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roosterforme · 17 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

--------------------------

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

-------------------------

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

-----------------------------

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

-------------------------

This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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899 notes · View notes

unfriedough · 3 months

Note

Hey sorry if your request aren’t open but I had a thought about Zuko x water tribe/bender reader!Like three years after the war he wants to propose to reader and So he ask Katara and Sokka about marriage traditions within the tribe and he carves a betrothal necklace for her?? And the readers reaction!! Thank you

An: HEY. Sorry this took like, so long I think you requested last summer, however I’ve kinda lost most of my determination to write and this account became more of a chore than what I had initially wanted. Either way, maybe somehow I’ll be able to be more consistent soon but I also don’t wanna make myself hate writing so :(

Thank you for requesting, I really do appreciate it, hope you enjoy :)

Zuko’s nose twitched as the cold nipped away at his extremities, huddled up in a few too many jackets. There’s a striking difference between cold and cold and right now he wished he was on fire.

Your gloved hand was intertwined with his as you lead him off of the fire nation ship and onto the white snow of the southern water tribe. This trip was planned as a way to visit Sokka and Katara, but Zuko had another plan in mind.

Finally, after three years of struggling to settle down, the fire people finally relaxed and he was able to make more time. In that time, he realized he’d wanted to marry you more than anything. So here he was, in a nation far too cold for someone like him, with a goal in mind.

He had exactly 5 days (and a half if you’re counting from now) to get ready a betrothal necklace. Why a necklace? Well, Zuko had watched you for days on end in the castle library, a book bigger than your head on the table being analysed by your eyes. You’d smile brightly when you locked eyes, and call him over. He’d sit next to you, shoulder to shoulder, attempting to read with you. The books were always about old water tribe traditions, tales, legends, history, everything of the sort. You’d wanted to stay connected to your culture and upbringing - it made you who you were today.

And so that brings you to today, here, the water tribe.

“Katara!” You squealed, running forward and pulling her into a hug. You two squeezed each other tightly, excited noises being expressed.

Zuko and Sokka nodded to each other, trying to be kinda nonchalant but Sokka couldn’t hold it much longer, he sprinted at Zuko and tackled him to the ground into an oh-so-warm hug. You laughed at the site, Katara too. Zuko felt a twinge of pink on his cheek, from the cold or embarrassment he couldn’t really tell, but he still wrapped his shaking arm around his buddy. After a few more ‘I missed you!’s and giggles, Zuko and Sokka got back up. Katara grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the village, you laughed the entire way, giddy from being back home here with your family. You threw a glance backwards at the fire lord, there was something very slightly off about the way he was smiling, you brushed it off as just the cold getting to him.

It was most definitely the cold getting to him.

Sokka led him to the ice on the outskirts of the village and brought some chairs along. They were gonna go fishing while they talked. As they both sat, another shiver ran up the poor fire bender’s back.

“How do you guys survive the cold?” He groaned.

Sokka chuckled, handing him a rod, pushing the bucket of bait closer to him, “You get used to it… I could ask you the same thing about the heat,”

“I’m a fire bender it’s in my blood,”

“Yeah well you learn a thing or two when your lovely sister starts learning how to bend and suddenly you’re always wet,” he cast the line, leaning back, putting one leg over the other.

“I guess,” he laughed.

They sat in a suffocating silence for a minute, Zuko just awkwardly holding the pole and Sokka staring into the sky.

“Are we going to address the camelephant in the room?”

Zuko looked to him from his peripheral, “I’m kinda nervous I guess, I don’t know what to do,”

Sokka sat up a little straighter, getting up to help Zuko with his fishing issues. He stood behind him and helped his arm into the correct place, slowly to be sure he understood.

“Just like fishing, you have to be precise and confident to get what you want, and if you cast your line just right, you’ll catch the fish,” he winked once the bob hit the water, stepping back to admire his own work.

“Not sure that’s the best metaphor,”

“Say you love it, he's been working on it ever since you wrote to him,” Katara rolled her eyes, holding your hand as you both struggled to not slip on the ice.

“KATARA.”

Zuko couldn't help but laugh, then he was met with the puzzled look on your face.

“I thought this was a surprise trip, when’d you write to them,” you tilted your head, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“…needed to make sure they were free,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“That totally checks out,” you rolled your eyes, getting a serious case of FOMO.

Sokka coughed to try to clear the awkwardness, “So fishing…”

“What’re you trying to catch anyways?”

“Does it matter, it’s about the process YN get with the times,”

“Since when did you fish for fun?”

“Since now.”

“I thought you hated fishing,” you were all standing up by this point, including Sokka and Zuko.

“Only because Miss Katara always splashed me,”

“And I won’t hesitate to do it again!” She bent a small stream into his face, giggling when he stumbled back.

“Oh it’s on Katara,” he paused, “As soon as I get snow,” he waddled away to get to the snow on shore.

You laughed when the waterbender used more ice to cause him to slip.

“I’ll go help him up,” you laughed, moving towards him as he laid helplessly on the ice, not even bothering to get up anymore.

Zuko watched your figure, missing the way Katara turned to look at him.

“I think you should do it here,”

“What?”

“The proposal,”

“That’s not enough time, it’s barely enough for me to learn how to carve the necklace,”

“Lucky for you, Sokka’s pretty efficient with plans, he’s been plotting since you told him,”

The fire bender smiled, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket. “Okay, maybe, but how can I get started when she’s with us all the time?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her,” she smirked.

“Are you sure this is safe?” You shivered, standing in your bathing suit on top of a huge rock, below it freezing water.

“No!” Katara, “But let’s do it anyways,”

“I don’t know, what if I freeze?”

“Good thing we have a fire bender with us,” she pointed to Zuko, who was in the distance learning about what tools to carve and what stones to use, he’d settled on one that reminded him of your eyes, and the band matching the deep royal blue usually used. He wanted to alter the pattern as a way of commemorating both elements. Currently, he and Sokka were doodling designs on the snow with sticks.

“Look at those dorks, I wonder what they’re doing,”

“You know Sokka, they’re probably drawing,” she laughed nervously.

“Hmm, that kind of looks like a-“ you were cut off as she pushed you off of the rock. You shrieked as you first dropped, then as you got more air time you changed into a more streamlined position with your head downwards. Instant regret when you hit the water though.

You resurfaced, drenched and in pain from the cold. Your fingers felt like they were gonna fall off any second now. Before you got to dwell on it, Katara joined you, also screaming in fun-agony.

“WHY’D YOU PUSH ME?” You splashed her.

“You were talking for too long…” she giggled, going under and pulling you down.

You inhaled a large amount of air before going under, making sure to keep her under with you as well. After a few seconds of freezing cold, you resurfaced, feeling pain in all your joints from the water.

“Why did I ever think this was a good idea?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” she shrugged, waterbending herself back up to the ledge so she could jump again, “But it sure is fun,”

Sokka and Zuko heard a splash in the distance.

“I think Katara is torturing your wife,”

“What?” he mumbled, looking at where you were very clearly lecturing her about something, “What’re they doing?”

“Ice bath, Katara tricked me into doing it once… I never fully recovered,”

Zuko chuckled, using his stick to doodle another design. Which he then stared at for a while.

“This is it.”

“Oh?” Sokka glanced at it, “It’s perfect.”

The men stared at each other proudly, as if they’ve just completed a super hard mission.

Immediately, Sokka took him inside a tent, quickly teaching him methods of carving with different tools. A few more splashes could be heard and you and Katara had fun.

“I wonder what he’s doing to Zuko,”

“Boy stuff,”

You furrowed your brows, “what does that even mean?”

After a lot of time (and a few cuts) Zuko finally had a necklace ready. Sure, it needed to be refined, but his hands were tired and shaky. Sokka patted him on the back, watching the fire bender weave the blue band into the loops.

What they failed to notice was you approaching, now covered in a warm coat.

“What’re y'all up to?” You breathed out, still cold but beginning to gain your senses.

Zuko panicked, hiding it under his leg. You looked at him weird.

By this time, Katara had joined the group, and behind her the sun fell into a pink and purple type hue. Zuko didn’t miss the way your breaths were so laboured, and he took it upon himself to lead you back to where Sokka said you two were staying. You changed into some clothes while he surveyed the room, moving around nervously.

“You’ve been acting weird all day,” you pulled a sweater over the thermal shirt, reaching over to grab an undercoat.

He walked up to you, fingers working shakily to button up the buttons. “Just cold,”

“No, the cold doesn’t make you avoid me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,”

“Really? It feels like Katara and Sokka are trying to keep us apart.” He grabbed another, heavier coat and draped it over your shoulder, you inserted your arms in the holes.

“I didn’t notice,”

“You’re lying,” you stepped back, putting your boots back on and tucking your pants into them.

He frowned, reaching out to you, but you stepped back.

“It’s weird, the letter thing as well- why didn’t you tell me you sent it to them? I thought it was last minute?”

“It was!”

“You’re lying again,” you frowned, folding your arms.

“I promise it’ll all make sense soon,”

“How soon? What’re you hiding?”

“I-“

“Actually. Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.” You huffed, storming out of the room, leaving a different kind of cold lingering.

Zuko sat down on the large bed, dropping his head into his hands. He sighed deeply, reaching over multiple layers of clothing to his pocket to pull out the carved stone. Truly, it was mediocre at best. And after this misunderstanding, the sinking feeling of impending rejection poisoned his thoughts. He couldn’t help but trace his finger over the patterns, wondering what could’ve been- he was half sure he was single now.

“I forgot-“ you gasped as you walked back in the room, catching a glimpse of the rock in his hand.

“Yn!” He quickly shoved it behind him.

“Zuko… what was that?”

“What was what?” He said, looking so suspicious it was stupid.

You took a few steps closer, inching towards him slowly, “In your hand,”

“My hand’s empty…”

“Liar…” you dragged on, standing right infront of him now.

“Zuko,”

“Yn,”

You tried pulling at his arms, but he wasn’t budging.

“Cut it out! What’s behind you?”

“Nothing!”

You sighed, walking away in defeat, just as he let his guard down, you pounced, having to grab it and rolling onto the bed. He barely had time to process it when your face immediately changed.

You sat up, moving on your knees towards him on the bed, patting his bicep, “Zuko light,”

The fire lord frowned, embarrassed that he was about to get rejected, although that’s no foreign feeling. A small, dancing red flame illuminated the carved necklace.

“It’s…” you covered your mouth with one hand, tears welling in your eyes.

“Tacky- I know, I just thought- you don’t have to do a-“

“Beautiful…” he glanced sideways at you, “Zuko…”

“This isn’t at all how I wanted this to go…” he sighed, dropping his head.

“No… probably not,” you sniffled, “but it was perfect,” you laughed, he chuckled as well.

He got up, lighting an oil lamp for better lighting. Zuko circled the bed and stood next to you, still nervous and fidgety.

“Yn,” he breathed out, shakily.

You nodded, glossy eyes meeting his.

“The years you’ve spent by my side, against me, with me- those have been the best years of my life. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m truly myself. I’ve never,” he swallowed harshly, “I’ve never felt more at home,” he paused again, looking up at the ceiling, “then when I’m with you.”

You let out a small noise of excitement, bouncing your legs.

“I’ve made so- so many mistakes in my life, every single day of it, but I think… I think letting you go would be my biggest mistake, Yn-“

“YES!!” You pounced on him, hugging him so tight as your heartbeats both skyrocketed.

You giggled as he looped the necklace around your neck, it was simple, and dainty, but most of all it was so Zuko. The more someone could stare at the imperfections in the craftsmanship, the more they’d love it. A man carved it with love and intention.

You held each other for a while, just swaying in the dimly lit room. You leaned back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Is this why we're here? You wanted to carve the necklace?”

“Yeah, pretty much, you ruined my plans though,”

“I did, didn't I?” You giggled.

“I had a lot planned for us, with the help of Sokka of course,”

“Ohh now that makes sense,”

“What makes sense,”

“Literally everything, you were being so weird,”

“I’m not great at keeping secrets,”

“Good, never keep one again,” you kissed his cheek.

“I suppose we should tell Katara and Sokka,”

“Yeah, I suppose we should.”

And so, hand in hand, you walked out to the bonfire, where the siblings sat.

Sokka was so mad his plan foiled.

#atla #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #fluff #avatar zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko angst #zuko #zuko atla #zuko x Reader #fire lord zuko x reader #zuko x female!reader

980 notes · View notes

thatsdemko · 7 months

Text

junipers dad- g.russell

pairings: George Russell x albon!fem!reader

fc: lyssieloooloo (from ig and TikTok)

requested: y - “What about something to do with all the pets the Albion’s have?? I think it would be super cute if George was trying to soft launch the relationship but because he’s such good friends with Alex people just assume that he’s hanging with the Albon family. And then it just culminates into either Albon!reader (or maybe Alex😂) just getting tried of George’s moping that his long planned out soft launch isn’t going to plan so they just decide to hard launch.”

a/n: a little something to lighten to mood xx— ps happy non-red bull podium!!

f1updates

liked by albon_pets, gr63updates, lilyandalexlover, & 6,794 others.

f1updates: it seems like George is hanging out with the Albon’s this weekend after Silverstone! he posted this cute picture of an albon cat ☺️

400 comments

f1lover22: I love that George and Alex hang out!

charleslechair: Alex and George two besties that can’t be separated

alblondo: is that y/n?! that’s so cute that George is friends with all of his sisters

princessgeorge: I’m also p sure that’s y/n’s cat juniper!

—

he sits cross legged in the chair, juniper sound asleep in his lap while he scrolls through Instagram for inspiration of his next launch. the last one was an ultimate fail considering half of formula one fans believed he was just hanging out with Alex. didn’t they know juniper was your cat?

“what’s got you so consumed online?” you peer over his shoulder, he’s searched high and low on the instagram tag ‘#softlaunch’ and it makes you giggle that he’s warped into introducing you properly to his instagram.

“why don’t you just post a picture of me and juniper? that way it looks more like you’re hanging out with me than with Alex.” you take the sleeping cat out of his lap, an alarmed grunt comes from her lips as you hold her in your arms for a picture.

“that outta do it right? Alex is nowhere to be seen.”

—

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, y/nalbon, & 77,931 others.

georgerussell63: spent some well needed time off

509 comments

albon_pets: 🐱❤️

maxverclerc: omg did George spend the weekend with the Albons?!

lewrussell: obsessed over that he and the albon siblings are friends

mercedesgeorge: everyday George proves more and more that he and Alex are still besties

—

“I don’t get it, why does everyone think we are friends?”

“well to be fair you did post a picture from junipers birthday party and everyone remembers that day.” you say it in a matter of fact tone that makes him groan as he scrolls through the comments.

albonlover: george was adopted by the albon family and I think that’s so cute

britcedes63: does he regularly hang out with them? I wouldn’t be surprised! he and Alex are really close

he shuts off his phone and watches you play with juniper. the fish on the stick being her worst enemy as she attempts to tackle it down in the air when a brilliant idea comes to his mind.

“why don’t you post me? that way everyone will be suspicious on who you’re dating!”

you roll your eyes playfully at his comment, but when you look over at him he’s handing you your phone to take a picture of him and juniper.

“if this will make you happy, then why not?”

—

f1gossiplover

liked by russbuss63, checorbr, yukisuzuka, & 7,250 others.

f1gossiplover: photo submitted by anonymous! y/n albon seems to have a new man who looks awfully similar to George?? what’s everyone’s thoughts!

300 comments

hamilton44: that’s not George that’s some imposter

gaslycharles: too short to be George

gr63babes: I know George and that’s not him

—

“what do they mean that’s not me?! that’s so clearly me in the picture.” he huffs in annoyance, phone balanced against his water bottle as he eats breakfast. the recent topic of your posts for each other is all he seems to be able to talk about, and you’d had enough. you’d really thought that semi hard launch would’ve been enough to make fans suspicious, but nobody budged.

you curse Alex for being such close friends to George, that way it was ten times harder for you to actually post the relationship like normal couples.

“why does it matter so much to you again?” you sit beside him, reaching over you take his phone and toss it into the empty chair beside you. he’d spent enough time on the device than paying attention to you.

“I just want to do it right. I don’t want to hard launch you and you realize it was too soon.”

you smile at his concerns and reach to grab his hand, “you’re too cute, Georgie, but truthfully I don’t care how you post me, but it seems to be upsetting you very much, so I have an idea.”

—

y/nalbon

liked by albon_pets, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1, & 6,530 others.

y/nalbon: juniper enjoyed some sun with her dad @ Georgerussell63

300 comments

albon_pets: uncle George has been promoted!

georgerussell63: daddy loves you juni!

roscoelovescoco: playdate soon?

mercedesamgf1: petition for juniper to join us in the paddock?

williamsracing: not on our watch!

lewishamilton: where do I sign up to get me and Roscoe matching sweaters?

alexalbon: don’t hold your breath she’s still making George and me our matching jumpers

tags: (sorry to lazy to tag everyone just gonna tag a few) @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @oconso @motorsp0rt

1K notes · View notes

rollinouttahere-writes · 9 months

Note

The Searing Pain part 2 ad Merfolk AU part 2 WAS FIRE🔥. Especially the emotions in Searing Pain, I swear I felt my heart ache when Luffy cried there.

About the request , It's more about the Merfolk AU but feel to make it with regular Strawhats pirates!

So , what if the Merfolk AU Strawhats meet Y/n who lives alone in the island and actually doesn't mind them hanging around as long as they won't bother them. Y/n don't hate them or scared of them but doesn't like them.

Happy birthday @emtynessinmyworld ! I hope you like this! Sorry if it feels rushed, but I wanted to get it done in time for your b-day!

What's the harm?

Yandere Merfolk Straw Hats x GN!Reader

2.1k words

“They’re back again,” you muttered while peering out the window.

The “they” in question was some pod of merfolk that have decided to make your island their favorite hangout. It started with them stopping here to get some fruit off of the trees near the shore. You didn’t particularly care that they were here. There was more than enough fruit to go around, so you decided to just leave them be.

However, they were not content to leave you be.

Once they realized that you weren’t going to chase them off, they became enamored with you. It makes sense, you suppose. When the usual reaction they get from humans is either a fearful or violent one, it’s understandable that they might become fond of someone who was simply indifferent to them. If they want to chill here where they won’t be harassed by humans, then you’ll let them.

You just wish they would stop trying to bother you. When you chose to make a small abandoned island your home, it wasn’t because you were dying for social interaction. Quite the opposite. All you wanted was to be left alone, and for years you were. Now? You were lucky to go more than a week without seeing those people.

Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepare for what’s to come. There were lots of things for you to do today. A storm passed through last night and took a heavy toll on your roof, so you’ll need to patch that up. Your garden probably also isn’t faring too well. Fortunately, you were able to drag the potted plants inside, but everything in the ground is probably dead. You need to do some fishing too, but you’ll wait until they leave to do that. Being that close to the water when they’re here is a hassle.

Steeling yourself, you push open the door and slip outside as quietly as possible. These efforts were all in vain, as it seems they were waiting for you.

There’s a call of your name behind you. A look over your shoulder revealed it to be who you assume is their leader, Luffy. The bull shark merman flashed you a wide, sharp toothed smile and waved frantically at you.

You had to fight the urge to go back inside, he was the worst offender out of them all. This guy genuinely did not seem to understand the concept of personal space. He also didn’t know how to stop talking, much to your chagrin. There’s also the issue of him being able to go into freshwater, something you learned about him while trying to fetch some drinking water from a river flowing through the island. Not only did he scare the hell out of you with his sudden appearance, he also launched himself out of the water to tackle you in a hug. You don’t like hugs at the best of times, but you especially don’t like them when they result in your water being spilled and getting soaking wet.

“Hey! Do you wanna come swim with us?!” Luffy shouted.

He asks that every time that they’re here, regardless of the fact that you’ve refused every single time. Apparently he wasn’t getting the hint.

“No, Luffy. I’m busy and have lots to do today, I don’t have time for that,” you answered. Not giving him a chance to ask more questions, you sped off towards your garden, praying that no one tries to follow you. You’ve had to drag Luffy back into the water on multiple occasions when he attempted to come after you and got too dried out from being out of the water. Much to your dismay, he took this as a sign of friendship and not just basic human decency.

As expected, the garden was in ruins. Your heart sank at the unfortunate sight. After removing all the debris thrown onto it by the storm, you saw that nothing had survived. Everything was ripped up and destroyed. You felt sick to your stomach knowing how dangerous it was to lose this many crops. It was early enough into the season that you could replant it and still harvest them in time before winter, but that would require you going back to the mainland for more seeds.

You hated having to go back and be around so many people, but it had to be done. Maybe you could set sail tomorrow? If the merfolk were gone by then, of course. You don’t want them following you for the entire two day journey.

Since the garden is done for, looks like you’ll be doing some foraging today. After the roof repairs. Those definitely take precedent here. Sighing, you turn and make your way back to your home. It’ll probably take most of the day to finish it based on how bad it was leaking last night. Your home was within eyesight of the shore, which meant that the merfolk were going to be trying to talk to you the whole time. How annoying.

As you get closer, you’re confused to hear what sounds like hammering. Where is that noise coming from? Picking up the pace, you hurry to the source and see that it’s coming from your house. Looking up, you see the colorful form of Franky crawling over what once was your roof and hammering on new planks of wood. Beside your home was a pile of discarded roofing tiles and wood.

All you can do is gawk at him while your brain tries to process what he’s doing. The large mantis shrimp notices your presence and stops what he’s doing to wave at you, “Oh hey! I saw that your roof was all messed up so I thought I’d fix it for you! At first I was just going to retile it, but then I saw that the rafters were damaged too, so I’m rebuilding all of it. Don’t worry, I’ll have this finished before it’s night.”

With that said, he went back to work. You didn’t know what to do or say about this. Given that your entire roof was now ripped off, you didn’t exactly want to tell him to stop. As much as you don’t want him to be doing this, it felt too late to keep him from it now. You’ll just have to let it go. Also where in the same hell did he get lumber and roofing tiles from? You doubt you’ll ever know.

Hazarding a glance to the shore, you can see the rest of them relaxing. Nami is currently laying on the shore and sunbathing with Robin reading a book next to her. Luffy is dangling from a tree hanging over the ocean trying to grab some fruit from the higher branches while Usopp and Chopper egg him on.

Oh good, he’s occupied and hasn’t noticed you. Grabbing a basket from outside your house, you run into the forested area of the island to forage. You’re hoping that if you stay out long enough that they’ll be gone by the time you get back. You’ll need to gather at least enough food to last you on your voyage to get seeds.

Lucky for you, the food on this island was plentiful. Between you being the only person on the island and the minimal animal life, there were plenty of fruits and root vegetables to choose from. You could hunt for birds too, but usually you got your protein from fish.

The foraging was going well, but the heat was starting to get to you. Today was not only hot, but also humid and you felt like you were suffocating. Sweat was pouring down your back as you pulled yourself up the tree to grab some fruit. You wanted it to be a little under ripe so that it would ripen up during your journey. Your basket was hung up on a lower branch for you to drop your findings into.

After dropping the last of the fruit you found into it, you slumped against the trunk of the tree. You wanted to do more foraging, but this heat was becoming too much for you. All of the sweating had made you dehydrated, too. If you don’t head back soon you’ll be putting yourself at risk of a heat stroke.

Nodding to yourself, you climb down and grab the fruit basket. It’s full enough that you’re content to call it a day. You can only hope that the merfolk have left by now, but at this point you don’t care. You just want to drink something.

Your house comes into view and you’re pleasantly surprised to see the roof is finished and Franky is nowhere to be seen. Despite your annoyance at him inviting himself to work on it without your permission, you have to admit that his handiwork is impeccable. The roof looks noticeably nicer than the rest of the house, and there is a large blue star painted onto the front of it.

Where he got the paint from is beyond you. Probably from wherever he pulled the lumber out of if you had to guess.

Before you could go inside to get something to drink, someone calls for you. Your head hangs and you groan. You’re in no mood to deal with any of them right now. Why must they insist on bothering you again?

Looking to where the voice came from, you see Sanji pulling himself across the sand with one hand while holding a coconut in the other. Admittedly, you’re impressed at how well he’s able to do that. As he pulls himself closer, you see that the coconut is open on the top.

“I’ve been looking for you! I made everyone some drinks and wanted to give you one too!” Sanji thrust the coconut towards you and watched expectantly.

Setting down your basket, you hesitantly eye up the drink. It looks like a mixture of various fruit juices mixed together in the coconut. Normally, you would never even consider taking anything from these people, and have turned down food from them on multiple occasions.

Right now, though? That looked like the most refreshing thing in the world and your throat was screaming for something to drink. It couldn’t hurt to accept it just this one time, right? What’s the worst that can happen?

Reaching out, you take it from Sanji’s hand, “Thank you, this looks really good.”

Sanji beams at you while you take your first sip. It’s delicious, and the one sip turns into you gulping down the rest of it in a matter of seconds. The tropical fruity drink felt like heaven going down your parched throat.

Sanji is still laying in the sand by your feet. His chin is propped up on his hands and he’s smiling at you while his long tail swishes behind him. Oh, he must be waiting to hear your opinion on it. It would be rude to ignore him after accepting the offering. “That was really good, thanks for that,” you answered simply.

“Do you want more? I made plenty! If you come with me to the shore I’ll refill it for you,” his hopeful smile almost made you cave, but no. You couldn’t give them an inch because you know they’ll take a mile if you do.

“That’s alright, I’ve got to get some things done around the house. Thanks, though,” you tried your best to let him down gently.

Instantly, his whole demeanor drooped, but he didn’t move to leave. Maybe he was hoping to make you sway if he looked at you with his kicked puppy face long enough. Guess that means you’ll have to leave first. Fine by you.

You spin on your heel to do just that, but stumble. That’s weird. All you did was turn around but you’re so dizzy that you’d think that you just spun in circles for a minute straight. Your vision started to blur as a horrifying realization dawned on you.

He drugged your drink, and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

In a last ditch effort to get away, you attempt to get into your home and lock the door. This amounts to nothing because you collapse after the first step. Your fingers dig into the sand uselessly, your arms didn’t have the strength to pull you forward. You weren’t even that far from the door, it was just barely out of reach. What a cruel joke.

Vaguely, you can hear motion behind you and feel someone pulling on your ankle. You can make out several voices, but your mind is too hazy to put any names to them. Boisterous laughter is the last thing you hear before everything fades to black.

Apparently, this was the worst thing that could happen.

328 notes · View notes

rottenpumpkin13 · 10 months

Note

Do the boys ever interact with Rufus Shinra?

Ah, yes. The incident...

• It started when Zack went to the Turk's floor to pick up Cissnei. She and Aerith had recently become friendly and the puppy was tagging along on their girl's night.

• He goes to her apartment and she says she's finishing up some reports before she retires for the night. Zack's bored and since he can't sit still for much longer, he keeps touching things he's not supposed to and distracting Cissnei from her work.

• She has enough and tells him to leave the apartment for a bit so she can finish up, suggesting he takes a stroll around the Turk floor.

• Zack's cool with this. He knows exactly what to do. He'll go find Tseng! Tseng's his buddy too, right? So off Zack goes toward the offices, and excitedly knocks on Tseng's door.

• After no answer, he tries the door and finds it unlocked. The office is empty with no Tseng in sight....

• But oh??? What's this??? There's a dog! Er...At least Zack thinks it's a dog. It's wagging its tail at least! And it senses Zack's naturally friendly nature.

• Zack is lovestruck by the dog, who immediately comes up and starts sniffing and licking him. He reads the spiky chain collar. Darkstar! That's her name!

• Enchanted by his new friend, Zack starts to feel sad and confused. Why would Tseng lock away such a cute friend in his office? All alone! With no one to love her!

• He wasn't aware Tseng even had a dog, or better: was a dog person. Poor Tseng. He's so busy he probably doesn't even have time to care for his new pet.

• It doesn't matter. Zack will help! But first, he takes out his phone and snaps a super cute selfie of him and Darkstar. He sends it to the last person he had texted: Genesis.

• Made a new friend! :) I'm going to take her out for a walk! #PupandPup

• Genesis had been working late in his office. He was going to finish all these late mission reports by tonight! Goddess be damned. He was going to prove Sephiroth and Lazard wrong! How dare they claim a lame chocobo had better work ethic than him!?

• He's taking a long sip from his coffee when he hears his phone ding. Ugh, he really shouldn't be entertaining social media nor answering texts. But it's okay, he's been overexerting himself. He deserves a little break.

• Taking another sip of his coffee, he reaches for his phone and—

• Genesis is scrambling. He's throwing open doors, booking it down the hallway and leaping into the elevator.

• He gets to Angeal's door and starts pounding on the door, kicking, screaming, the whole nine yards. Angeal opens it looking bewildered. A concerned Sephiroth is peeking out from behind him. Both men are still in uniform, thankfully, and look to have been in the middle of some drinks.

• Genesis does a poor job of explaining himself. He's hyperventilating, stomping his foot and pointing down the hallway all while mimicking dying fish noises.

• When Angeal and Sephiroth exchange puzzled looks, Genesis pulls out his phone and shoves the picture of Zack in their faces.

• It takes 0.2 seconds for them to connect the dots and run.

• The three are tripping over themselves, slipping and panicking all as they rush to find Zack. They're just—

• Meanwhile Zack is enthused! He and Darkstar are having a blast running all over the tower and playing catch with a rubber band ball he'd found in Tseng's office.

• That all changes when a blur of red leather rushes in and tackles him to the ground. Zack is crushed and pinned by Genesis in place. Angeal and Sephiroth have secured Darkstar by her chains. Her tail's wagging, she's excited as she sniffs Sephiroth's hand. More friends, yay!

• Zack: Hey! What gives? Get off me, you weigh like, a thousand pounds!"

• Genesis: ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT BEAST BELONGS TO!?

• Sephiroth: Why is it licking my hand?

• Zack: Yeah! Tseng! He got a new dog and the poor thing was stuck in his office!

• Angeal: Zack! That's Rufus ShinRa's dog!

• Sephiroth: It is now chewing my glove. What do I do?

• Zack: No way! ShinRa Jr. ? I never pegged him as a dog lover.

• Sephiroth: *pets Darkstar* There, there, who's a good.... monstrous abomination?

• Genesis: Yeah, well, he is! And this is his personal guard dog. Do you know how much trouble we'd all be in if you were seen with it!?

• Sephiroth: *continues to pet* You know, the poor creature looks enhanced. This has Hojo's hand all over it.

• Angeal: Look, let's just get this dog back in Tseng's office before Rufus notices it's missing.

• Angeal, Zack and Genesis turn around and—

• .......................

• Genesis: HEY, UH, SEPHIROTH!?

• Sephiroth: Yes?

• Genesis: WHERE'S THE DOG!?

• Sephiroth, looking pleased, points down the hallway where Darkstar is seen running away at light speed.

• Sephiroth: It's free now.

• Genesis: SON OF A—

• The four of them start sprinting after her. The security cameras around that particular area of the tower capture the wild goose chase. Darkstar runs down stairs, into elevators, and finally slows down just enough for Zack to latch onto one of her chains.

• Zack, refusing to let go, is now eating dirt as he's dragged by Darkstar. And Darkstar is only picking up speed.

• Meanwhile, Cissnei is ready to go, and is waiting for Zack at a booth near the Sky View Hall.

• She watches in wonder as Darkstar bolts past her seat with a long chain trailing behind her. Then in comes a screaming Zack being dragged across the ground. Lastly, Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal are seen running after him.

• Cissnei sighs, then takes out her phone. She texts Aerith: I'll meet you at Goblin's bar in sector 8. Zack's not coming.

• Aerith: Why not?

• Cissnei: Because he's going to be arrested.

• Meanwhile, Darkstar leads the party all the way down into a conference room on the 30th floor. Horror starts to sink in as the 1st class trio remember the interdepartmental meeting currently happening in there.

• Oh no.

• Darkstar throws open the door and rushes inside. Heads turn at the long conference table as every single director (Scarlet, Heidegger, Reeve, Palmer, Hojo, Lazard and the president) watches as Darkstar makes a beeline for Rufus.

• Darkstar barks happily and tackles Rufus out of his seat. Zack crashes onto the conference table, slides across it, then falls directly onto President ShinRa.

• Tseng is hyperventilating.

• Director Lazard sees the 1st class trio appear in the doorway looking disheveled. Sephiroth's hair is a mess, Angeal is out of breath, and Genesis is coughing up blood.

• Lazard passes out.

• Zack sheepishly gets up. Heidegger and Reeve run to help the president, who is bright red and nonverbal with anger.

• Rufus sits up. He's laughing as Darkstar licks him and demands attention. "Poor thing. Couldn't keep away from me for two seconds, could you?" He notices Zack and nods appreciatively. "Lieutenant Fair. Thanks for fetching her for me."

• While Angeal and Genesis run to go help Director Lazard, Sephiroth stares sadly at Darkstar. And then his eyes pin Hojo in place and that sadness is replaced by pure, unbridled fury.

• "You," he hisses, and starts towards Hojo.

#there were tears coming out of my eyes when writing this #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #zack fair #ffvii crisis core #ff7r #aerith gainsborough #cissnei #rufus shinra #tseng ff7 #ff7 turks #final fantasy vii #crack #storytime

250 notes · View notes

d1xonss · 3 months

Text

Desert Rose

Chapter 36 ~ The attack

✧ Paring : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 3

✧ Word Count : 6.4k

In this chapter ~ The following day wasn't any easier as the group needed to have a plan for if the Governor returned. It all led to a pretty big argument, everyone having a different opinion about what they should do. But none of their ideas or plans could've prepared them for the sudden attack they were faced with. However, nothing else seemed to prepare them for the familiar faces that had returned just in time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ROSE POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning finally rolled around after a long night of restful sleep, Glenn wasting no time gathering everyone together in the common room for some type of meeting. He began to question Carl about where he found Tyreese's group, knowing that if there was a blind spot somewhere, we had to find it. We weren't going to risk anymore walkers getting in that way, but more importantly, The Governor and his men if they planned to come.

I stood up against the wall as I watched Glenn draw out a map on the ground with a piece of chalk, going on and on about the spaces we needed to fill. His voice continued to bounce off the cement walls as he couldn't stress enough about how important this was, but I couldn't help but tune him out after a while. Ever since he had brought up that he eventually spilled where we were located to The Governor, now talking about how easily they could get in, I couldn't help but stew over it for longer than I intended.

A figure stepped up next to me then, bumping their shoulder with mine and I looked up to see Michonne, tilting her head towards me as she silently asked if I was alright. I only nodded my head and turned my attention back on Glenn, but I knew I didn't convince her.

"Why are we even so sure he's going to attack? Maybe you scared him off." Beth spoke up.

Michonne then quickly shook her head, "He had fish tanks full of heads, walkers and humans. Trophies. He coming." she said seriously.

"We should hit him now." Glenn said.

My eyes snapped back to him at the suggestion, "What?" Beth asked.

"He won't be expecting it," he continued, "We'll sneak back in and put a bullet in his head." he spoke, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. As if it were that easy.

"We're not assassins." Carol said bluntly.

He ignored her comment as he got up from his crouched position, moving closer as he spoke to Michonne, "You know where his apartment is, you and I could end this tonight." he attempted to convince.

But Michonne stayed silent for a while as she looked at him with almost uncertainty, "I'll do it myself." he tried.

She eyed him for only a moment longer, seeing how serious he grew about this, before silently nodding her head.

"No," I spoke up, grabbing his attention, "This plan is too risky, you haven't thought this thro-"

"Believe me I have." he cut me off.

"He didn't know you were coming last time and look what happened. You were almost killed, Daryl was captured, and you and Maggie were almost executed." Hershel said.

He turned back to face the old man, "You can't stop me."

"But I can." I piped up.

His head then whipped back towards me, and he got closer to my face, "No you can't."

"Is that a challenge?" I asked with anger lacing my voice.

The room instantly grew silent as my voice echoed around the space, everyone watched intently what we would do next. I would never hurt Glenn, but if he tried to leave and do this, I wouldn't hesitate to tackle his ass.

He didn't say anything as he swallowed thickly, so I did, "I'm not going to let you get yourself killed over a stupid plan you barely put any thought into. We wait, and come up with a better one."

"He could be gathering his men to come over here and attack right now!" he yelled in my face.

"Well then he wouldn't be in Woodbury waiting for you to kill him now would he?!" I yelled back, "And there goes your big plan."

I was a bit taken aback that he was here screaming in my face, not liking what this whole situation was doing to him. But I wasn't going to back down, I wasn't about to let him be as reckless as he wanted to be and get himself killed somehow trying to do this just because he was angry.

I could easily tell by his face that he wasn't expecting me to yell back, to stand up to him and get in his way, but I would do a whole lot more than that if he kept it up.

It was almost like a face off as we stared at each other for the long passing seconds, before Hershel's voice cut through the intense silence, "Rick would never allow this."

Glenn then turned towards Hershel and took a few steps away from me, "You really think he's in any position to make that choice?"

"Like Rose said, you need to think this through clearly. T-Dog lost his life here, Lori too. The men that were here. It isn't worth any more killing. What are we waiting for? If he's really on his way, we should be out of here by now."

"And go where?" Glenn asked.

"We lived out on the road all winter." Hershel pointed out.

Glenn sighed, "Back when you had two legs, and we didn't have a baby crying for walkers every four hours."

"We can't stay." he said calmly.

"We can't run." Glenn countered back.

I stayed silent as I watched him continue to argue with Hershel, his arms flailing all over the place just to prove his point, I almost couldn't believe how he was acting. He had every right to be upset for what happened to him and Maggie back there, for everything that asshole did to them, but he had no right to take it out on us.

He eventually concluded that we would stay put and fight for the prison and moved down to continue to tell Carl the plan about checking the tunnels again, but then he stopped in his tracks.

"Who's on watch?" he snapped.

No one said anything, causing him to get up quickly as he cursed under his breath, but I stopped him before he could fully walk out the door.

"No, don't worry princess, I got it." I assured while pushing his chest back a little.

Without another word, I left the common room and let the heavy door slam right behind me. I was so pissed off at his bitchy attitude, he was being so stupid it almost blew my mind. I understood that he wanted revenge, but this isn't how we do it. We had to be careful not to lose anyone else, and the fact that he was going around acting like he didn't care who we lost, made my blood boil.

Feeling relieved as I was finally up in the watchtower with a sniper in my hand, I needed some air, and a break from his stupid tantrums.

About two hours had passed in what felt like a flash as I sat myself near the bars of the tower, keeping an eye on the trees surrounding the place for any type of threat. Though there were many walkers that seemed to pile up a little around the gated fences, it was nothing new. Just the same old shit that we had been fighting since the beginning, no sign of The Governor or his people, not even a sign of anyone alive for that matter.

Though when Michonne made a comment about how he would come, I believed her. She knew how this man thought better than the rest of us did, expecting him to return with rage and destruction. But I never imagined we would get here. In a place where we were suddenly at some kind of war with a man and his community, one that we barely even knew. It was a lot to take in.

The door below began to creak open slowly from behind me and I rolled my eyes as I adjusted the gun in my lap, "Go away." I said in a sing-song tone.

"It's me." Maggie's voice called out, and I turned around to see her standing there with a solemn look on her face, "You want me to leave you alone?"

I pretended to think for a second before shaking my head, "Nah, you're the only exception."

She slightly smiled, "Thanks babe."

I nodded and gestured for her to come over and take a seat next to me, and she moved upon see in my silent invitation. We both sat down while the gun I had now rested in my lap, continuing to gaze out at the tree line just a couple yards away.

She stayed quiet from beside me but I knew she had a lot on her mind, she just didn't know where to start. I could feel her eyes on me as she tried to find her voice, opening and shutting her mouth a few times in hesitance. I didn't want to push her, but maybe if I lightened the mood it would get her talking.

"So, did you come up here to talk, or just stare at my pretty face?" I asked, glancing over at her with a smirk.

She let out a chuckle and looked down at her hands, "Both." she replied reluctantly, getting me to laugh along with her.

"What's on your mind?" I asked as I turned better to face her.

She hesitated for a moment before making eye contact with me, "Nothing, I just... kinda snapped at Glenn." she admitted, sounding a little ashamed.

I scoffed, "Well, apparently I was one step ahead of you on that one today."

She laughed with a shake of her head, "Yeah, I guess so...but I'm kind of glad you did. In my opinion I think he was way out of line, with you and my dad." she said.

I nodded my head, "He was. The Governor shoved a stick so far up his ass and now he's taking it out on all of us."

She silently agreed, beginning to nervously pick at her nails as she spoke the next dreaded words, "He's just mad about what Merle did to him. And...what The Governor did to me." she admitted quietly.

My eyes widened, but she answered the question before it even came out of my mouth, "No he didn't. He just...made me take off my shirt and bra, and...pushed himself up against me. He didn't do anything really, it was nothing...just scared me real bad."

I shook my head, "That's not just nothing Mags." I argued.

"It could've been worse." she said quietly.

"...It could've," I agreed, "But that doesn't mean you should brush this off like it was nothing...that must've been so traumatizing...I'm so sorry."

"Thanks." she nodded in appreciation, her voice coming out practically a whisper, "I'm just having a hard time processing it I think, and Glenn keeps avoiding me because of all of it...well until just a few minutes ago."

"What happened?"

"He...he came into our cell to check on me, but I didn't feel like saying a whole lot to him. But he almost pushed me to tell him what really happened while we were separated, what happened with The Governor. I didn't want to relive it and go into detail, but he kept asking...so I told him. And then I yelled at him...I think I'm just pissed he pushed me to tell him more about it. But...that's probably a stupid reason to snap at him huh?"

I shook my head, "No it's not, you weren't ready. He should've waited until you were comfortable enough to tell him about it yourself."

She nodded her head in agreement and looked down, "You want me to beat him up for you?" I asked.

I heard her laugh a little but she shook her head, "No, that's okay, I just needed some time to cool off. I'll talk to him later."

I nodded, showing her I understood completely before moving forward to pull her into a hug, which she gladly returned. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. And don't you think for one minute that we won't make him pay for what he did."

"I know we will." she whispered, still holding onto me tightly.

We stayed in each other's arms for a little while, the gesture and comfort being something she really needed before we finally broke apart, silence taking over once again. This time however, the silence wasn't tense as it seemed to be before. It felt peaceful just sitting with each other instead of both of us being by ourselves with our racing thoughts. I enjoyed the company even though I originally wanted to be alone, she somehow truly was an exception.

But I could then feel her eyes on me again after a few moments of her thinking, and I just knew the things she wanted to say. It was almost as if I read her mind, just by briefly seeing the one saddened look on her features.

"You don't even have to say it." I muttered.

Her frown stretched even further, "But I want to...we haven't talked about it."

"There's a reason we haven't." I brushed off, "It's over. It's done."

She sighed to herself, looking at me with furrowed brows and saddened eyes, "I'm sorry about Daryl." she said softly, so softly I almost didn't hear it. Though a part of me wished I hadn't.

"Maggie-"

"No," she cut me off, "You're hurting, I can see that. I just didn't want you to think that you couldn't talk to me about it. I'm always here to listen."

I shook my head, "I don't need to talk about it because there's nothing to talk about. He left. And I...didn't follow him."

"Do you regret not going with him?" she asked.

"No." I said instantly, "...Yeah? I- I don't know." I muttered in defeat.

"Hey," she whispered, placing a hand on my shoulder to get me to actually look at her, "I don't want you to think you have to put up this front like you're okay, because I can tell you're not. Just...let it out."

I shook my head, "I have, trust me. I just do it alone, I don't want anyone else seeing me like that." I said with a sarcastic laugh, before pausing upon seeing how serious her face had become. Maybe I had been putting up a front, more than I even originally realized.

And then it happened, he entered my mind again like he always seemed to do. "I miss him." I admitted quietly.

She sighed in sympathy before bringing me in for another hug, as I tried desperately not to break down in front of her. "I know you do," she whispered, "But it'll be okay, everything will work itself out." she promised, rubbing my back lightly.

Tears built up in my eyes, ones that she couldn't see. I couldn't bring myself to speak in fear that my voice would crack at the first word that left my lips, so I only nodded. Not fully knowing if I could believe that, but yet wanting to more than anything.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* DARYL POV ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My feet trucked heavily through the woods as fast as I could, ignoring Merle's quick steps from behind me as he yelled, trying to keep up to really rip into me. His reason for being this pissed was stupid, getting all fired up at me for stopping him after he wanted to rob an innocent family we came across. They were fighting off a small herd of walkers when we found them, leading to us making a beeline over towards their direction to help take care of the rest. Merle's actions honestly surprised me...until they didn't.

As some type of "payment" for saving them he wanted to pick through the supplies out of their car, shouting at them and threatening them however he pleased. But I had already had enough of his dumbass, aiming my crossbow at his head to finally get him to stop harassing these people we didn't even know.

I told the family to just drive, get away fast while I had stopped him for the time being and right when I saw they were far enough away, I turned around swiftly to avoid the confrontation, heading back towards the forest. I should've expected this from him, his old tendances resurfacing, but I guess it was something I didn't think about when it came to taking off with him again. But everything he did, everything he said, was starting to piss me off more than I could even describe.

Ever since the first night when he brought up Rose the way he did, trying to convince me of things that weren't true, I was even done with him then.

"The shit you doing, pointing that thing at me?!" he asked harshly while still following close behind.

"They were scared man." I said, not slowing down or stopping.

He scoffed, "They're rude is what they were. Rude and they owed us a token of gratitude."

"They didn't owe us nothin." I grumbled, thinking back to how they were struggling to protect themselves on their own, all while also trying to keep the baby they had safe. Helping them was the least I could've done in my mind.

"I see you, helpin people out of the goodness of your heart? Even though you might die doin it. Is that something your little girlfriend taught ya?"

I stopped in my tracks once he said that, whipping back around to look him in the eye, "There was a baby." I snapped.

"Oh, otherwise you would have just left them for the biters then?" he questioned, and I knew exactly what he was implying.

I shook my head, "Man, I went back for you. Ya weren't there. I didn't cut off your hand either, you did that. Way before they locked you up on that roof. Ya asked for it." I said.

To my surprise, his face formed into a smile as he started to chuckle a little to himself. "You know what's funny to me? You and sheriff Rick are like this now." he crossed his pointer and middle finger together, "Right? I bet ya a penny and a fiddle of gold that you never told him that we were planning on robbing that camp blind."

I paused for a moment as I thought back to our plan we discussed a long time ago, long when we first found the group to begin with. "It didn't happen."

"Yeah, it didn't cause I wasn't there to help you." he spat.

I took a step closer to him, "What like when we were kids? Huh? Who left who then?"

"What? Is that why I lost my hand?!"

"Ya lost yer hand because yer a simple-minded piece of shit!" I snapped.

Upon hearing that, he began to yell things that I couldn't bring myself to listen to anymore as I turned away from him, my eyes widening once I felt him grab the back of my shirt to pull me back, hearing it rip. My knees buckled and hit the ground at the amount of force he used, feeling his eyes burning at the spots on my back that I didn't want him to see.

I felt like I was melting under his gaze, practically feeling his eyes widening as he eyed every single one lining my skin. The feeling that came with his realization felt awful. Fearful even. But when I showed Rose, ashamed and scared, she kissed over them with such love I had never felt before, making my fear instantly disappear. Hell, I felt like I fell even deeper in love with her in that moment alone.

But here I was now, fully exposed to my brother who now suddenly was at a loss for words when normally he didn't know how to shut the fuck up. I quickly tried to pull my shirt back up to cover them out of embarrassment, but I felt it was too torn. So I quickly took my backpack instead, shrugging it on my shoulders to hide them once more.

"I-I didn't know he-"

"Yeah he did." I interrupted him, "He did the same to you, that's why you left first." I muttered almost bitterly.

I meant for my tone to come out loud and intimidating, but when I spoke all I could hear was insecurity in my voice.

"I had to man, I would've killed him otherwise." he told me.

I only scoffed towards him, not even looking him in the eye as I stood back up to my full height, walking away from him through the woods, "Where you goin?" he called after me.

"Back where I belong." I snapped.

"What? Back to your little girlfriend? Besides I can't go with ya. I tried to kill that black bitch, damn near killed that Chinese kid."

My blood boiled at his racism, "He's Korean." I corrected.

"Whatever! Doesn't matter man I just can't go with you." he replied.

I took a breath, "Ya know, I might be the one walkin away, but yer the one who's leaving...again." I spoke, walking away from him for good.

I should've known from the beginning not to go with him and leave everyone else behind. Leave Rose behind. But that was a stupid mistake, and all I could think about now was finally getting back to her. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her and how she never once left my mind, how I was constantly trying to find a way to come back to her.

And now I was.

My feet couldn't take me nearly as fast as I wanted to go, harshly pushing through the branches in my way as if that would somehow get me there quicker. To finally get back home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ROSE POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maggie left a little while ago to go back to her cell to have some time by herself, while I stayed on watch for a little while longer. No one else had offered to take over for me whilst I had been up here for hours, but I honestly didn't mind. In a way it gave me some peace of mind that no one remained out in the distance watching us. Seeing for myself that there truly wasn't a threat, even though I continued to double and triple check.

But my attention was pulled away from the tree line once I saw a brief glimpse of Glenn getting into another argument with Hershel just outside. I caught myself almost stepping down to yell at him for flipping out on the poor old man again, but he was already making his way to a truck before I could say a thing.

My eyes slightly widened, "Glenn Rhee, don't you dare get in that truck!" I yelled down to him.

Everything was screaming at me, telling me that I knew exactly what he was doing. He was going back, and he was going back alone.

But like a child, he just made dead eye contact with me, slightly glaring, while slowly getting into the driver's seat anyway.

"Glenn!" I yelled again but he quickly started it up and drove off, stepping further on the gas and out of the gates before anyone had a chance to stop him. I cursed under my breath as I watched the vehicle disappear further into the distance, leaving only a smoke cloud behind.

The man was being so goddamn stubborn, and he was going to get himself killed. Tossing the gun I had on the ground, I turned to make my way down from the watch tower to talk to Hershel about what was said between the two of them, but something else in the distance caught my eye.

There was a person lingering towards the woods, wandering around the outside of the prison gates. In a split second, I had picked the weapon back up, looking through the scope to spot the figure clearly, but stopping completely when I saw it was Rick. He was looking left and right repeatedly as if he was looking for someone, and I lowered the weapon with furrowed brows.

I didn't hesitate then to get down from the watchtower, exiting through the gate before jogging across the field to talk to him. I was growing more worried about him with each passing day, watching him slowly lose his mind as his eyes spotted things that weren't actually there. His movements only reminding me of what happened the other day in the common room, staring up at the balcony before breaking out in a cold sweat as if something was watching him.

By the time I made it up to the fence, he had walked a little further into the woods as he continued searching, making me have to call his name multiple times so he would acknowledge my presence. After a few seconds, he finally heard my voice, turning back slowly to walk over up to the other side of the fence.

Once he was close enough, I spoke, "You know I wouldn't have ran my ass all the way down here if it wasn't important." I tried to joke, still slightly out of breath.

A soft smile crossed his lips, "When are you coming back? I love Glenn but that man is really starting to get on my nerves. We need you." I said.

"If you're worried about him leading this group, then you lead." he said seriously.

"Hilarious." I deadpanned, briefly looking around behind him, "What are you doing down here?"

He paused and looked away from me as he stuttered, "I've- I've been, I've got, stuff out here. Stuff..." he trailed off suddenly.

"Stuff." I repeated with a slow nod of my head, "Well...how much longer does this stuff need?" I asked, my concern for him only growing.

He shrugged, "I don't know."

"Rick, you know you can talk to me. Why are you out here?" I asked softly.

He stared at me for a few moments, wanting desperately to tell me what was on his mind but something was holding him back. Maybe it would sound crazy, maybe he felt that no one would believe him, but the truth was I would. I just wanted to know what the hell was going on with him, so I could know how to help him.

"I saw something..." he finally said, "Lori. I saw- I'm seeing Lori...I know it's not really her, but there's got to be a reason. It's got to mean something you know?"

I nodded my head as I saw him finally confiding in me, "Do...do you see her now?" I asked cautiously.

He looked around for a moment before shaking his head, "I don't think you're just seeing her...I think you're looking for her." I stated.

"I'm waiting." he corrected.

"For what?"

"I don't know, something. There's an answer. I know it doesn't make sense- well it does, it can make sense, I think in time it will make sense-"

"Rick," I sighed to stop his rambling, "When was the last time you slept?"

He shook his head, "I...I don't know." he admitted quietly.

"You need rest." I told him gently.

He didn't reply, just looked down at his feet as his mind clouded with more thoughts, "Do you remember last night when you told me not to blame myself...for what happened to her?" I asked.

He slowly looked up at me and nodded his head, "The same goes for you." I spoke, "Don't blame yourself...it'll destroy you. Especially when it wasn't your fault." I repeated back to him.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but then looked over my shoulder as if he caught a glimpse of movement. At first I was fearful to turn around, not knowing if there was going to be an actual person behind me or not, but I slowly managed to turn over my shoulder to only see Hershel hopping his way down carefully towards us. Thank God.

When he caught up with us, he placed a hand on my shoulder, "Mind if I talk to Rick for a moment, dear?" he asked me and I nodded, glancing back to Rick once more before heading back up towards the prison to give them a second alone.

As I was walking across the long field, I spotted Michonne standing by the abandoned bus in the grass, giving me a small wave once our eyes locked. Raising my hand up to wave back, I slowly made my way over to her instead.

But right as I was finally close enough to speak, opening my mouth to say something, I didn't even get a chance as she quickly reached out and pulled me back with a thud against the bus. Her hand was placed firmly on my shoulder as she kept me behind the hunk of junk, peering around the vehicle with widened eyes.

My brows furrowed as I tried to ask what she saw, but not a second later, I heard a single gunshot fire come from the trees. Then a loud, shocked scream came from just inside the prison gates, whipping my head over to see it was Carol as a body collapsed on top of her. It was Axel, a bullet piercing through his head and his blood splattering over the side of the watchtower.

My eyes got wide as I scanned the area for where the shot came from, spotting a single car in the distance with a few people surrounding it. It didn't take a genius to know who it was, and I quickly became furious. That son of a bitch really came back here.

After I spotted him standing still, far enough away from our gates, I quickly loaded the gun in my hands. That's when more gunfire started coming from all around us, and I peeked out from around Michonne just in time to see Hershel dive to the ground to avoid the flying bullets. I pushed past her lightly and began shooting at the men standing behind their vehicles in the tree line, firing at the ones who were the closest to him.

My gaze then spotted a stranger standing near one of the watch towers, shooting at Carl and Beth as they were trying to take cover. I quickly moved my aim, firing right at the man and instantly watching him go down with a single headshot. Not even hesitating as I whipped back to my original spot and kept firing just as before, in hopes it would buy the older man some time.

But then it very quickly grew silent, everyone stopping their actions suddenly. But once I listened more carefully, I could briefly hear the engine of a car coming our way. I hoped to God it was Glenn, but my face dropped even more when I saw it was some type of white van coming straight at our gates and quickly barreled through them without a second thought. It rushed past the bus Michonne and I were still hiding behind, feeling her hand quickly pull me out of the way so I wouldn't get hit.

It came to a stop in the middle of the field, leaving us all waiting in anticipation for something else to happen. Then all of a sudden, a man popped out of the driver's seat and headed towards the back, ducking and avoiding all the shots our people were trying to fire at him. He opened the back doors quickly, letting walkers spill out of the van and onto our land.

I immediately panicked once I saw how close they were to Hershel, attempting to run over and get to him but Michonne pulled me back again, seconds before someone began firing right at the spot we were hiding behind.

"Hershel get out of there!" I yelled.

I saw him pull out a small gun and start firing at the walkers, while trying to crawl away as best as he could, not being able to get back up without help. The Governor's people all started to make their way back to their vehicles to make a run for it, leaving our group to spread out further to kill all the many walkers they had just released. Fucking cowards.

I saw the van start back up, beginning to turn around and beeline it out of the field right as Glenn's truck pulled back up through the broken gates. Oh, I wanted to kill him right now.

He made his way over to Hershel the second he caught sight of him, and I began to run alongside of the truck so we could help get him in and get him the fuck out of here. Michonne was killing off walkers around us as we ran, and I finally made it to Hershel who was still laying on the ground, putting one of his arms around my shoulders, helping him up and back towards the truck.

Glenn then hopped out of the vehicle only seconds later, rushing over to the two of us to help him move faster on the other side of him. Hershel jumped as fast as he could as we guided him over to the passenger side, glancing behind us to see Michonne still stalling the walkers away from us.

Once he was in safely, I slammed the door shut and watched Glenn get back into the driver's seat, starting it back up again. Michonne turned back to jump in the back, kicking her legs over to make it in safely and reached a hand out for me to take. I ducked out of the way of the walker's grasp, trying to make it over towards where she was reaching, but I was quickly cut off as more of them caught sight of me in the middle.

I pulled out my gun again to try and shoot at them, but it clicked. Fuck.

"Rose!" Glenn yelled from the driver's side, knowing he couldn't wait much longer with the amount coming at him.

"Just go! Get them out of here!" I screamed.

He hesitated for a moment before groaning to himself, driving back up towards the prison where everyone else was watching. I got my knives out and began to throw them at any corpses coming my way, backing up slowly so they couldn't corner me. Many of them had now caught sight of me alone, and I looked over to see if Rick was still outside the gate, but I couldn't spot him anywhere from where I was placed.

But the second I caught an opening through the small herd of walkers, I booked it through the space in attempts to make it back up to the prison on foot. My curly hair bounced wildly as I pushed myself to run as fast as I could, the wind momentarily blowing it towards my face to a point where I couldn't see anymore. I moved my hands to get it out of my face the second it was in my vision, but it was already too late as I missed the walker coming at me from my right.

It collided with me and I fell to the ground harshly. I was so close to the gates that I could hear everyone calling my name desperately, hearing them try to make it over to me. I groaned and struggled with the walker on top of my chest, catching it trying to claw at my shoulders. But then it fell limp against me just as quickly as it tackled me.

My eyes looked up to see a bolt sticking out of the side of its head, piercing through the entirety of its skull. My breath caught in my throat at the thought, but he left. He couldn't have come back, right?

As soon as those thoughts echoed in my mind I looked up and my eyes widened. There he was. Side by side with Merle and Rick as they fought off the many walkers that got too close, firing repeatedly at their skulls. I finally shoved the walker off of me and stood up immediately, nodding back towards the gates without a second thought so we could actually make it out of this thing alive.

"Come on!" I yelled at them, and the three quickly followed me the little distance we had left to go, Maggie rushing to open the broken gate before slamming it shut behind us.

The moment I knew we were safe, my eyes connected with Daryl's from the space between us. I didn't hesitate before I was running towards him quickly, watching as he stayed firmly in place, opening his arms up for me to crash into. I practically tackled him in a hug with a gasp and my legs immediately wrapped around his waist, feeling him hold me up in place while burying his face into my neck. I felt myself begin to tear up at the familiar feeling I had craved so badly, his grip on me never loosening.

We held onto each other for what felt like forever before he leaned forward a little and set me back down to my feet, his arms still glued around my waist. I pulled back to get a look at his features, seeing his perfect blue eyes again and I sighed to myself as I placed my hands on either side of his face, bringing my lips up to his cheek to kiss him multiple times.

He chuckled as he brought me into his chest once more, hugging me tightly again as if he never wanted to let go. I couldn't even begin to explain the emotions I was feeling right now, but all I cared about in that moment was that he was here. He came back. I couldn't bring myself to care about anything else at the shock was still so evident that he was truly here standing right in front of me.

As we finally pulled apart, he quickly placed a kiss on my forehead before looking back down at me. "You're here." I whispered.

"M' here." he repeated, "I ain't goin anywhere else, m' here." he said softly while taking his hands and wiping away the tears that somehow managed to escape my eyes.

I laughed, unable to contain my happiness as I pulled him in for another hug, our intertwined bodies rocking from side to side. I took everything in as I held him close, glancing over his shoulder momentarily to see Merle standing off to the side with an odd expression on his face. Though I couldn't tell what that expression was for, nor could I tell what was going on in his mind. But I didn't linger on it for very long as Daryl pulled away slightly again.

"I'll explain everythin later. But right now..." he trailed off as he glanced back to Rick.

I turned to look over my shoulder, following his gaze to see Rick standing there with his eyes on the field, looking about ready to burst into flames with how angry he had become. But the man didn't utter a word. Not a single word as he just nodded back towards the prison, expecting us all to follow behind him.

This should be fun.

~Thanks for reading!

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

Text

Fake It Till You Make It

Arthur Curry x plus size reader

Never pair two borderline insane superheroes together on a mission.

Warnings: black eyes, some injuries, fluff, fake marriage

WC: 716

Minors DNI

Picking up strange undercover missions was your specialty. You couldn’t even count the number of times you had to wear some crazy disguise and sneak into a drug running ring or a mobster dinner party. You have been in outfits ranging from heels taller than your will to live, covered in makeup and wearing jewels worth more than your life, to oil stained coveralls who had last been owned by Superman himself.

But this, this tops the lot.

“Let me get this straight, you want me to pretend to be married to Aquaman so we can infiltrate a wildlife sanctuary which has been using great white sharks to smuggle drugs and guns over international borders.” Batman’s face remained stoic, as always.

“Yes.”

“And you actually expect this to work.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, fine I guess. I’ll do it but I expect appropriate compensation.”

“You can’t drive the batmobile.”

“Five minutes.”

“No.”

“I sit in the passenger seat and you drive but I pick the music.”

“…..Fine.”

“Hell yeah! I guess the only thing left to do is to actually meet this fish man.” His eyes narrowed at you from behind his cowl.

“Don’t call him fish man.” You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“Jesus Christ, old man. Lighten up a bit.” His scowl deepened. But before he could reprimand you, there came a mighty yell from down the hall, causing both of you to turn and look at the source. A man, who could only be described as a giant, was barrelling down the corridor, long curly hair flowing behind him wildly as he ran. He was topless, which you greatly appreciated, considering the fact that he was built like a linebacker with tattoos covering every inch of his copper skin.

“Wifey!” And the next thing you knew, his broad shoulder was firmly planted in your soft stomach and you were moving backwards. Your back met the cold floor of the tower and a huge weight settled on top of you. It took you a second to realise what had happened.

“Did you just rugby tackle me?” His head tilted as if to say ‘duh’. He straddled your plump thighs, keeping you pinned to the ground, his hands were planted firmly by your head. Dark curls framed his face as he leaned forward, your noses almost brushing.

“Hi there wifey.” And he smiled brightly. Maybe this mission wouldn’t be too bad.

——————

You were soaked from head to toe, one eye swollen shut from a particularly good punch, your body completely sore from running and a chill that settled on your bones. Arthur wasn’t much better off than you; a few cuts along his arms and stomach, a dark bruise on his jaw.

But you were both smiling widely, still holding hands, your wedding bands glittering in the low light of the batplane.

Batman looked thoroughly exhausted. “What do you mean you’re married for real?”

Arthur shrugged. “We had to make it believable.” You nodded, backing up his point.

“He’s right, we would’ve been caught otherwise.”

“That’s what the forged documents are for!” You glanced at your counterpart, both of you trembled trying to contain your laughter.

“But those are fake, you could tell that from a mile away.”

“So your solution was to get legally married?!”

“Yep.” “Pretty much.” You spoke at the same time. The older hero collapsed into one of the many seats on the plane, rubbing at his temples.

“I’ll have Alfred draw up the paperwork to get your marriage annulled.”

“No can do pal!” Bruce glanced at Aquaman, already dreading what was about to come out of his mouth next. “We’re married in Atlantean culture too and divorce is not an option.”

Bruce sat there for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as his brain attempted to comprehend the sheer stupidity of the two people in front of him. And yet, he could only blame himself. Then, he said something he thought he would never have to say: “I should’ve listened to Superman.”

“Yeah you really should have.” You agreed, giving Arthur’s large hand a squeeze as you glanced up at him. “But hey! Now we’re permanent partners and we work really well together!”

“You blew up the wildlife sanctuary.”

“We got all of the animals out first!”

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marlynnofmany · 1 year

Text

Talking Sports

“And then I found out we weren’t the only species to invent football!” I said to Wio as she opened food packets. Normally I would have enjoyed watching the way someone with tentacles unwraps things, but I was focused on my story. “I mean, I know it’s a very simple concept, but that was incredibly strange to turn the corner and see a bunch of beefy dinosaur-looking people tackling the quarterback.”

“I’m sure,” Wio said, popping the lid off a jar. “Is this one of the ‘gimme the ball’ games, or ‘get rid of the ball’ games?”

“Um.” I paused to think. “I guess you can categorize them like that, can’t you? Never thought about it. It’s a ‘gimme the ball.’”

“Are those the more common type?” Wio pushed my own lunch tray towards me, which I’d forgotten about.

“Thanks. Maybe?” I poked through the stack of individually-wrapped human foods as I thought. These were from another mystery box of Earth stuff from our last supply run. I started with the turkey jerky. “There’s a lot of sports to keep track of. Fighting to keep the ball is football — and rugby, which is similar — soccer, where you just use your feet; basketball, where you have to keep bouncing the ball; hockey, where you smack it across the ground with a stick… Oh, and lacrosse, where you throw it with a stick that has a net on it. And I’m probably forgetting a ton.”

“Mm,” Wio said conversationally. She scooped up a mouthful of stinky fish paste with the Strongarm version of a spoon, which had a handle shaped like a jumbo tongue depressor. She didn’t bother grabbing it, just sticking her suction cups to the underside. “That’s six. What about games where the goal is to chuck the ball into the sun?”

I talked over a bite of jerky. “There’s probably not as many, at least if you’re strict about the definition. In baseball you’d definitely be a star if you hit the ball into orbit, but the others tend to have a specific place where you want the ball to go. That can be the other side of the court, like tennis, volleyball, or badminton — or even ping-pong — but then there’s golf, where it looks like you’re trying to whack the ball as far as possible, but really you’re aiming for a tiny hole at the end of the field.”

“Six again,” Wio commented. “Or just one, depending on definitions.”

“I know I’m forgetting some,” I said. “What else is there where you throw the ball as far as possible? I mean, there’s competitive javelin throwing, but that’s not the same kind of game. One person at a time going for the highest score, instead of two teams playing against each other at the same time. With javelins, that would just be actual warfare, and then you’d be aiming at people anyway, not going for distance.”

Wio finished the fish paste. “You do seem to have a lot of team games,” she said. “I’m used to more of that ‘highest score’ kind.”

“Yeah?” I asked, intrigued. “What kind of sports do Strongarms have?”

“Well, we do have some that are cooperative,” she admitted. “At least where I’m from. A lot of races, some with an object to carry and a goal. Sometimes the object is a teammate. And there are a few varieties of wrestling, some with limitations or challenging locations.”

“That sounds fun. Challenging how?” I reached for more jerky, and realized the package was empty. I moved on to a squeeze-tube of applesauce.

“Oh, there’s a bunch of options,” Wio said, waving a tentacle. “People are always coming up with more. My favorite is probably the balancing on top of a pole one.”

“Cool.” The applesauce was nice and cinnamon-y. “Do you have a least favorite?”

“In a box,” she said immediately. “That one is stupid and hard.”

“I bet!” I said.

Wio began peeling what looked like a blue-and-green onion. “But anyway, most of the competitions are solo challenges. Lots of puzzles. And many of the ones with multiple people acting at once are just a way of saving time so we don’t have to wait to see who’s best at the puzzle.”

“Do you do any climbing?” I asked. “Obstacle courses?”

“Oh sure,” she said. “Some of the races are vertical. And there’s a whole category of seeing who can wriggle through odd-shaped openings the fastest.”

I watched her peel the thing, which had far more layers than I’d expected. “Sounds like the only games with a ball to move around are the races. Some of them.”

Wio paused and stared at the wall with a thoughtful expression on her octopuslike face. “I’m probably forgetting some too, but nothing’s coming to mind. There are things with floating objects, but those are more swimming challenges, not focusing on the objects themselves.”

“Pity,” I said as she finally ate the core of the onion, which was the size of a grape. “Ball games can be a lot of fun.”

“I believe you,” she said in the tone of someone not particularly motivated to do anything about it. Then she started eating the blue onion skins like potato chips.

“Have you ever tried one?” I pressed. “Even a simple thing like catch or keep-away?”

“I don’t know what either of those are, but I can guess.” She said, crunching away.

“What about…” I searched through my food options for an orange or a walnut or something. I found a tuna can. “Table hockey! Here, set the trays on the bench; I just want to show you real quick.”

I didn’t really expect her to agree, but she shoved the last of the crunchy things in her mouth and moved the remainder of her lunch. This table wasn’t very wide, hardly a proper playing field, but that would make it easier for a rookie. I set my tray on the bench seat next to me and explained the rules. “We just whack it towards each other and try not to let it fall off our side of the table. If you get it off my side, you get a point. Got it?”

“And the other sides are no one’s point, right?”

“Right. If we want to make it harder, we can say you lose a point for hitting it off there, but no need.”

“All right.” She splayed an unfair number of tentacles across her side of the table. “Let’s do it.”

I shoved the can at a reasonable speed, only to have her thwap it back at me hard enough to hurt when I caught it. I laughed. “Oh, it’s going to be like that, is it?”

Wio smiled with her weird little alien mouth. “Was that meant to be difficult?”

“Oh, it is on.”

Thus began a riotous game of table tuna, which ended up making such a ruckus of laughter and whacks against the cabinets that Eggskin came in from the kitchen to see what was going on.

Wio waved three tentacles at them. “We’re playing an Earth sport!”

“I see,” they said, turning their scaly head in a clear inspection for damage to the cabinets. “I trust you’ll be eating the contents of that can, now that you’ve thoroughly dented it.”

“Sure, sure,” I said, turning the can over. “Oh, this is starting to leak, isn’t it?”

“And I trust you’ll be cleaning up your own mess?”

“Yep. Sorry.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Eggskin swept away with all the dignity of an elder who’d caught the kids getting into trouble. I had no idea how old they were, but they definitely had grandparent vibes sometimes.

Luckily the can had only dripped a little, and was easy to wipe up. Wio and I were soon back with lunches in front of us. I was looking for crackers to put the tuna on when Wio spoke up.

“You should try a Strongarm game now.”

I looked up. “I suppose that’s fair. Do you have one in mind?”

She held up a white jar with multiple seams and no obvious lid. “A classic puzzle is opening something without looking. Like this youth-proof seal.”

“Okay,” I said, holding out a hand for it. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Instead of handing it to me, she grinned wider. “You can’t just sit there, of course. You should lie down on your back. And open it under the bench behind you.”

“Whaaat,” I said. “You are making that up.”

She was outright giggling now. “This is literally a child’s game to see if they’re old enough to open containers on their own.”

“Fine.” I got as comfortable as I could on the hard bench, and she handed me the jar. I held it under the bench, and immediately regretted my choices. “Ow. This game was designed for someone who has tentacles instead of shoulder joints.”

Wio’s voice oozed amusement. “Surely you can handle a child’s puzzle? Come on, I’ll open this one at the same time. See if you can beat me.”

I grunted, twisting at yet another part that didn’t twist. Today’s lunchtime had turned out so educational. “I guarantee you I cannot.”

~~~

Inspired by this post, and also partly by the octopus skill at opening jars.

Ongoing backstory for the main character of this book. More to come!

#my writing #the Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eidw #sports #humans are space orcs #sports classification

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running2reanimation · 9 months

Text

Gone

...fishing!

King had just finished packing the cooler when Purple strolled out of his room, already dressed for the day. He looked surprisingly more awake than King was used to at this hour, "Good morning, Purple. I'm afraid I haven't started on breakfast yet."

"Oh, that's okay, Baba, I am up early after all. What's... all this about?"

"Oh, I'm heading out fishing this morning. I should be back in time for supper, but you'll be on your own for lunch."

"Ah," Purple looked at the cupboards, and at the cooler, and finally at King, a hand to his chin before asking, "Can I come?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, of course. I just never really took you for the fishing type."

"... I'm not, but... maybe that was just because of the company... y'know?" Purple laughed before looking away and clutching his arm.

King nodded knowingly, not pushing Purple for any further details on that, "Well then, let me go get some supplies for you. You want to make up a sandwich for yourself and tuck it into the cooler while I go grab them?"

"Oh, uh, sure," Purple nodded, broken out of his thoughts, and the two of them scooted around each other in the small kitchen, King heading into Gold's room.

He looked at the room, having barely touched it other than to dust it occasionally. He took a deep breath. This was okay.

Gold would be okay with lending Purple his fishing pole. He would have done it without a thought.

King opened the closet, and found the pole leaning against the far right wall, tacklebox and hat sat at its base. Ah yes, they'd been planning a fishing trip before... and Gold had hunted it down and set it aside.

King smiled, and reached to touch his face. It wasn't the first time he'd smiled remembering his son but it was not yet a frequent occurrence. It still took him by surprise.

He reached out and gathered the gear in his arms.

When he came back out to the kitchen after setting the pole and box by the door, Purple was just tucking his sandwich into the cooler. King grinned at him and pulled out the hat, plopping it on Purple's noggin.

The hat was one of those classic fishing hats, decorated with various lures. Honestly, it was an eyesore. It definitely did not fit Purple's general aesthetic at all.

"Do I have to wear it?" Purple groaned, pulling a face.

King laughed good-naturedly, "No, not if you really don't want to, but you will definitely want a hat, or your face will get very sunburned and a hat with less brim won't protect you enough, and a much wider brim will definitely get caught by the wind on the beach."

Purple frowned, hand leaving the hat with a sigh, "Fine..."

"If it actually turns out you like fishing we'll buy you your own hat and rod, alright?" King reassured, grabbing his own equally tacky - get it? because it's covered in lures aka tackle? - hat.

"...Wait, you mean this is...?" Purple took the hat off, looking at it again in a new light.

"Yes. It's Gold's old hat," King confirmed, noting Purple's frown, "You really don't have to wear it if it makes you uncomfortable, I'm sure I can find another hat."

"No, it's not... it's not that. Just... are you sure I can... wear this?"

"I wouldn't have offered it to you otherwise. Just be careful with it, okay?" King reassured, shifting the cooler in his hands, "Now grab your rod and tacklebox and let's get out to the car, we're going to miss the tide."

"Right, yes, sir! Uh, King!" Purple hastily corrected himself, grabbing the borrowed rod and gear while King held the door open for him. Purple looked back into the house one last time, feeling a real connection with the boy who used to be there, "Thanks for the gear."

#alan becker #avm #ava #animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #avm king orange #avm king mango #avm purple #avm mango #avm king #king #purple

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eoieopda · 7 months

Note

for absolutely no reason at all

svt members as your partner when you come home from work and become the equivalent of a dead fish because your job has sucked your soul from your body and you have nothing left to give but a few halfhearted flops

LET’S FUCKING GO.

seungcheol and jeonghan also have dead fuckin batteries.

they’re on the ground when you walk in the door. they may or may not have a “reason” for it, but they are fully in starfish mode on the floor, unwilling and unable to be moved. nobody is talking because that takes more energy than either of you have to spare, but it’s nice — finally being able to be quiet. it’s like the at-home equivalent of hiding in the work bathroom/walk-in freezer/whatever to have just a SINGLE MOMENT OF PEACE. sometimes, you just need a good Floor Sit™️. ya know? but…. you’re gonna order the takeout, right? their phone is a meter away, and they cannot be assed to sit up to grab it.

mingyu, joshua, and seokmin are gonna nurture the shit out of you.

you may be a shell of a person rn, but that just means there’s room for whatever criminally delicious thing they’re going to cook for you. they keep looking over their shoulder to check that your soul hasn’t left your body; and they only step away from the stove to top up the drink they made for you. tbh i would not put it past any one of them to hand feed you because they’ll be goddamned if you have to lift a finger. they’re also team Self Care™️ but you have to be the one applying their face mask because they got some in their eye last time and wailed for many minutes about it. y’all are also accidentally drunk on a week night. ooops 😇

jihoon, minghao and chan have already asked whether you want to vent or brainstorm solutions, and you chose the latter.

now, they’re actively listening to every single thought you have about your garbage day. they’re highly emotionally intelligent + pragmatic, so they have 10/10 insight to share without seeming pushy or patronizing about it. when you have a plan worked out for how to tackle xyz bullshit on zero (0) brain juice, they say or do something unexpectedly ridiculous in the midst of this ocean deep convo. that makes you crack tf up. you no longer wait for the sweet release of death 💘

👆🏻if you chose to vent, vernon and seungkwan are ready to rumble.

vernon sits quietly next to you (like, if you’re sprawled out on the living room floor, so is he; no questions asked). he soaks up every little word while emoting perfectly when your dramatic/comedic retelling calls for it. truly a 10/10 audience. you’ve never felt funnier/more interesting, and THAT is the spark you needed.

seungkwan, on the other hand, is getting amped with you — he doesn’t know who he’s fighting, but bitch, hold his americano because he’s coming out swinging. importantly, you’ve aired all your grievances and feel less like you’re being crushed to death under the heavy boot of a capitalist existence ✨

soonyoung, junhui, and wonwoo are on the emotional disaster clean-up crew — but in different ways.

you may be a flat tire, but even those can rotate, so soonyoung is doing his best to get you moving. he knows that partaking in a hobby of some sort is A Lot™️ right now, but it’s also the only thing that will restore your will to live. he’s right. you’ve successfully fought off the intense guilt that comes with foregoing joy due to exhaustion; and you have [insert labor of love project] to show for it.

junhui is more mellow in that he’s fine to leave you as a lump on the couch; HOWEVER, he’s going to be doing silly shit in your peripheral vision until you finally notice and start laughing. who ordered the prop gags? it’s a one-man show and it’s INCREDIBLE. he tires himself out and you both sleep like fuckin babies, and it doesn’t take you 59 years to force yourself out of bed the next morning 👏🏻

wonwoo, on the other hand, is subtle with it. i feel like he would dump himself next to you on the couch, pull up some sort of video game, and be content to exist quietly in your proximity. but just because you’re not talking doesn’t mean he’s not pulling shenanigans. i feel like he’d find the most fucking RIDICULOUS mods known to man (ex. replacing the dragons in skyrim with thomas the tank engine), or make a character that looks like you and run around doing super dumb shit that doesn’t advance the story but makes you cackle. he’s got that very specific lil wonu smirk going on, too, because he knew he’d be successful.

#jade speaks #jo 🧙🏻‍♀️#svt #svt headcanons

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nevernonline · 1 month

Text

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #17; happy trails.

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 3.2k

note: a fully written chapter for my baddies. 🖤

masterlist ▸ 016 the part we play. ▸ 018 damage control.

Keys are jingling in her face as Joshua stands inches above her head. Smiling down at her still trying to buckle the torture device women call heels.

"Are we ready yet, princess?"

Y/n didn't respond with words but a big sigh meaning no. Packing her purse frantically while she runs around the apartment in search of lipstick to match the red of her dress.

“Y/n, you’ll be fine. I would say trust me but I feel like we're beyond that.”

Running back and forth between rooms she still didn’t know what to say to Joshua, she decided to let the tensions between the two of them go away for the night as they tackle the bigger fish.

“Josh. I know. Minghao texted me that he’s going to pretend to be on Mimi’s side. He said we have to be careful. I’m just not sure why.”

“We’re like seven against one. It will be fine.”

“Will it? Who knows what she’s capable of, she's very capable of taking all of you down to get to me. She proves it all the time. Maybe I just shouldn’t go. This is stupid even entertaining her.”

“Do you still care about me and Minnie? Even if you don't, you do care about Minghao. I know for a fact if you don’t show up she will blackmail us forever. I also have a feeling she’ll go for Seokmin somehow, she knows he’s weak. If she can’t take you down, she will definitely take him down.”

“Then let’s end this once and for all, please.”

Locking her front door, feeling fire in her gut to take down the girl who had done everything in her power to hurt y/n, she couldn’t help but feel like there was something brewing that she wouldn’t be able to come back from.

With the air around her full of pressure, she sat in silence in the back of the uber next to a friend who used to be her entire world and now was barely a part of it.

Something about the ride to Mingyu’s bar felt like it was going to be the last time she saw herself like this, full of anxiety about the days going forward, worried that the other shoe will drop.

When the two of them finally arrived they were met with an obnoxious banner outside the front door, that the bar was closed for an ‘exclusive’ event.

Seokmin was standing off to the right, clutching his phone in his hand, looking obviously nervous waiting for y/n to arrive.

She quickly jumped out of the car with a thank you and ran into his arms, holding onto him for dear life before you went inside.

“You look beautiful, y/n. Perfect revenge dress.”

“Thank you for being here to help me.”

“Where else would I be? Hi, Josh.”

“Hey, Seok. Where are.. You know.”

“Out back, they parked Won’s car in the staff lot and are waiting back there.”

“Okay. Cool. Let them know we’ll give them a signal to come in.”

Walking through the front door, still sticking Seokmin on her arm. Feeling his physical touch to put y/n at ease following behind Joshua.

There was a table set up at the front, small bags designed for everyone's phones at coat check, the security guard asked to confiscate everything on them including their bags.

Getting a deep wondering look in her eyes, Joshua was asking for permission if it's okay, though she was apprehensive to hand over the items that could be useful for her escape if needed she knew but she also knew she had to do it.

Seokmin told the guard he just had to send a final message, assuming it was to the nerd back in the parking lot, you just sent him a small smile.

After hanging over the personal items, the three piece crew, much smaller than normal, were handed numbered masks, assumingly part of Mimi’s plan to know who is who.

“Guys, please stay close. Okay?”

“We’re not going to leave you, y/n. We promise.

“Good.”

Placing their masks over their eyes, Seokmin in something that looked like a green dragon, Joshua a white jester, and y/n a black sparkly mask with two small horns placed over her eyebrows.

“I see she still has a sense of humor.”

“I’m not sure if I think this is very funny, y/n.”

“Humor keeps me living, Shua.”

“Clever.”

Walking through the black velvet curtain, there were swarms of people everywhere, some holding trays with champagne and other clear liquids, a parade of dancers on tables, and some party goers looking at the three of them, trying to suss out who they were.

“How the fuck are we going to find her in here?”

Y/n leaned into Seokmin’s ear and whispered the things Minghao had told her before she gave up her phone.

Minghao was supposedly the only male guest in some type of red mask and knowing Mimi it had something to do with the devil.

“Guys, I’m going to go grab us some drinks, don’t take anything from anyone if they offer you something. She may have spiked a drink since I’m sure she knows you’ve arrived.”

Joshua was right, y/n hadn’t even thought about the possibility of Mimi doing something dirty to take her out and make her embarrass herself.

Y/n pulled Seokmin along to the bathroom that was sitting next to the bar, locking them both inside for a moment to talk before their night.

“Look. Let’s not drink anything, okay? And we can’t eat either. Joshua reminded me of something from that video of me that Mimi had put out at Minghao’s event. She said she could get us some stuff to have a fun night and to loosen me up more so I could go over to Joshuas and lose my virginity.”

“She’s so sick. Y/n I'm so sorry.”

“It’s fine. I just don’t want anything to happen to you, because if i-”

With a small scream from Seokmin and y/n from a small knock on the door, she just yelled out they’d only be a minute, but the knocking persisted.

“Y/n? It’s Minnie. Let me in.”

“Uhh, Seokmin is having a bit of a bathroom emergency. Just one second.”

“Guys. I know you’re lying, just let me in. I know you don’t want to see me. But, please.”

Unlocking the door and letting Minnie slide through the crack, you noticed her mask as something to be aware of. It was some sort of bunny with pink crusted jewels all around it.

“What do you want, Minnie?”

“Seokmin, just let me talk okay?”

“Fine.”

“I know you guys don’t want to see me, I’m sure Joshua explained a little bit of what was going on considering you came with him here willingly. Just know I didn’t do it to hurt you, I did it to save myself. I was being selfish. Mimi knew stuff that I have never told anyone, not even the two of you, she was threatening telling my parents and I couldn’t come back from that, they’d nev-”

“Minnie? We don’t care right now, why did you want to come in here?”

“Because, I have an idea.”

“Which is?”

“Let me trade places with you tonight. Give me your dress and mask. That way whatever she tries to do to you, it’ll be me instead.”

“But, our hair is different, they took my bag so I don’t have the matching lipstick for you to wear.”

“Mingyu is doing work in his office, you can go hide in there with him. I have an overnight bag with some stuff in it that you can put on. I think it’ll be better if we're both not out there.”

“What about Seokmin? And wouldn’t she be suspicious if you’re not out there?”

“No. When I came to set up, I told her I wasn’t feeling well and that I wanted to go home early. She doesn’t even know he and I are still here.”

“How do I know this isn’t part of her plan?”

“Because I didn’t tell her about your friends waiting for you outside and about you and Minghao being friends still? Other than that you just will have to find it in your gut to believe me even if I betrayed you.”

“Okay.”

“Y/n are yo-”

“Seokmin, I’m sure.”

“Aright. We’ve been in here too long hurry up and change, Joshua is probably confused.”

“Follow me to the office, we'll swap there.”

Minnie led y/n and Seokmin down to the end of the hall holding her eagle eye on the room full of party go-ers looking for Mimi before making a clear getaway into the room Mingyu was held up in.

Unlocking the key to his office door. Minnie swooped her former best friend into the room where Mingyu was sitting at his desk, airpods in his ears, sipping on a beer.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Gyu.”

“Long time no see, y/n. Seokmin.”

“We miss you, big dog.”

“I know, Seoky.”

“Mingyu, y/n is going to stay in here with you while me and Seokmin go around the party. Okay? Keep her safe.”

“What about Seokmin?”

“Why does everyone keep asking about me?”

“Because, you’re the glue.”

“Aw, Mingyu.”

“Guys. Turn around so we can change.”

“Why it’s not li-”

“Mingyu.”

Y/n giggled at the interaction between Mingyu and Minnie, still unsure if they’re officially together or not, but she had hoped they were.

Slipping out of their dresses, y/n changed into Minnie's casual clothes, a pair of grey sweatpants and hoodie as Minnie slid into the red dress that fit like a glove.

“I have makeup wipes and other stuff in my bag, feel free to use it.”

“Okay.”

“Ready, Seok?”

“I think so, but what about Minghao? And the guys?”

“I can call them for you, I still have my phone.”

“But, how will you know when?”

“Cameras.”

“Wow, no shit. Okay. Be safe.”

“Seokmin?”

“Yeah, y/n?”

“If you see Minghao.”

“Don’t worry.”

As y/n was peeling her makeup off, Minnie and Seokmin slipped back out the door they came in from and back into the party hoping to uncover truths for their friends as she was stuck in an office with her old flame, in secret once again.

“Want a beer?”

“Please.”

Mingyu handed over a glass bottle as he popped the top off swiftly, y/n chugged at the golden liquid hoping it would settle her stomach slightly.

“Minghao, huh?”

“What?”

“You guys, are uh? Dating? Friends?”

“We’re just friends.”

“For now.”

“What?”

“You like him.”

“I did. I don’t even know anymore.”

“You do. You just don’t trust him.”

“Not fully, no. Not yet. I really only trust Seokmin and the guys. Which is sad.”

“Not even me?”

“I’ll be honest, I thought you had something to do with it for a while.”

“Y/n, come on.”

“I just wasn’t sure. Joshua told me everything. I know you didn’t. I’m sorry I doubted you I guess.”

“Do you think if all of this never happened things would’ve been different between us?”

“Maybe. How are you and Minnie?”

“The same. I think she has a lot of stuff to work out before anything would ever be able to happen seriously.”

“Like?”

“A lot of things she should tell you herself, but I don’t like that she hurt you.”

“Mingyu, you know-”

“No. I know. It’s silly I still like you after you made it clear to me your feelings, but I can’t help it. I’m competing with your childhood crush and your knight in shining armor I get-”

“No. Mingyu.”

Y/n pointed to the screen, watching Minnie approach who y/n thought was maybe Mimi, watching their interaction carefully. Mimi ran her hand over Minnie's masked face and took Seokmin’s hand in hers, jumping a little bit off the ground. Holding her hands out to show them the work she had put in for y/n's birthday.

“Do you think she knows?”

“That it’s not you? Maybe. She is a good liar.”

“She definitely is.”

Y/n noticed to their side seated at a table was Minghao, something about his demeanor and watchful stance, plus the hint of the red mask, let her into the detail.

“That’s Hao.”

“In the red? Where’s Josh?”

“To the left. White mask.”

“What do you think they're talking about?”

“No clue.”

Mimi handed Seokmin and Minnie drinks off the tray that were brought over and cheered them on as she went to take her spot on the stage to introduce the DJ for the evening and also thank the guests for coming, a sign the party was officially in full swing.

Y/n and Mingyu kept watching on as Seokmin and Minnie sipped their drinks, when he suddenly stopped her from putting the cup to her lips and swapped their drinks without letting Mimi onto what he was doing.

“Do you really think she’d drug your or Minnie, but your drinks?”

“I do. I told Seokmin to be careful. Joshua was the one actually who told me.”

“Why do you think she hates you so much?”

“Because I’m the only person who never put up with her shit.”

“And you’re the only person who can get what she wants but can't have?”

“Not true.”

“It is. She wanted Josh, she got him, but really he wanted you. She got Minghao to fall for you unintentionally even though she had him first and wanted him to do her dirty work by lying. She hates you because you’re everything she isn't. Kind and Honest.”

“I don’t feel that way. I never tell people what I want. Even Seokmin. I don’t know how to tell people my true and honest feelings. I just skirt around them. I act like I’m okay and I’m not. I’m not okay. I sometimes feel like she’s onto something. Maybe she’s helping me go after things I need.”

“See.”

“What?”

“Even though she’s fucking with your life you have compassion enough to say maybe she’s helping you. You’re a good person, y/n.”

“Maybe.”

“Trust me. That’s why I fell in love with you.”

“Don’t. Mingyu, please. Not now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

As the pair was sitting and drinking at Mingyu’s desk, they entirely missed Mimi’s devious actions in spiking the drink that belonged to one of their friends.

“Wait. Why is she on stage?”

“She’s talking.”

“Do you have sound on your cameras?”

“Yeah, one second.”

Mingyu unmuted his laptop and watched as Mimi paraded around the stage.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Mimi, of course. I know you can’t tell under my mask. But, I’m here to celebrate the birthday girl, y/n. She has been in my life for a long time, we were such good friends as kids. Did you know y/n stole my boyfriend? It’s funny, she’s always doing things people don’t expect. I want to bring her up here tonight to let her tell you her story for herself as she turns another year older. y/n? Can you please come to the stage?”

Seokmin nudged Minnie who was looking unwell, the girl on his side pretending to be someone she wasn’t slinked onto the stage next to Mimi, clearly inebriated.

Mimi smirked and handed her the microphone, letting her know it was time for a speech.

“Uh, Hi. Sorry, I’m not feeling well.”

The crowd of people they may or may not have known the girl who stepped on the stage wasn’t the girl of honor, y/n and Mingyu watched in disbelief holding eachothers hands without realizing it.

Minnie fell to her knees which prompted Seokmin and other masked guests including Joshua and Minghao to run to her side as the microphone cracked loudly over the speakers.

Mingyu tugged tightly on y/n’s hand before she forced him to run out to the girl left on the small stage who had fainted.

Y/n was sitting and watching everything go down when all of the sudden the lights cut out, following the last bit of light from the computer screen.

“Y/n?”

“Hello? Who is it?”

“Aw, are you scared?”

“Mimi?”

“Who else?”

“What's wrong with Minnie?”

“Oh she’ll be fine. You should know better than to cross me. Bold of you both to go against what I actually had planned, but she meant well. I can't fault her for that."

“What do you want?”

Y/n felt Mimi’s presence beside her, her breathing slowing more in the faint black room.

“You. Well, for you to go away.”

“If I agree to what you want, will you leave my friends alone?”

“Yeah. I need you to do something for me first.”

“What is that?”

“Lie for me.”

“Why?”

A flashlight suddenly lit up the room, illuminating both of the girls' faces, Mimi had a sinister smile on her face.

“Because you owe me.”

“What do I need to do? And before I agree you have to promise me all of them will be okay.”

“I promise.”

"So?"

“I need you to go, I need you to find somewhere out of the city. I’ll tell your friends the rest. I put a bag in my car out front. It has everything, your phone, your wallet. Just get in and drive. I don’t care where you go, but just know if you show back up or contact them. I’ll find you. I’ll handle everything else.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Hm. I’ll give you this.”

Mimi handed y/n a small pink zip drive hooked onto her key unit. Something for her to hold onto. She took it in the palm of her hand and shoved it inside the pocket of Minnie’s sweats.

“Can I ask you a favor if I do this?”

“I guess. What is it?”

“Take care of Seokmin and Jun. Even if you don’t get too close to them, just make sure they are alright. Everyone else can handle themselves. I just need to know the two of them will be okay.”

“Yes, y/n. Your bitch boys will be well taken care of.”

“Okay.”

Y/n took the keys from the top of Mingyu’s desk, ready to make her exit as the tears welled up in her eyes.

“Y/n?”

“What?”

“Aw, don't cry. I just need you to sign this letter I wrote. So they think it's from you.”

Y/n took the pen from Mimi, only reading the first few words of the fake letter meant for her friends and signed her name at the bottom. Maybe it wasn’t right, but she knew if she ever got the chance to apologize they’d understand.

“Actually can I ask you for one more thing before I go, Mimi?”

“Yep.”

“Why does it have to be like this?”

“Well because I know if I don’t force you out I’ll never get what I want. Good luck, y/n. You’ll need it.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

Y/n slipped out the back door of Mingyu’s bar for what she thought would be the last time. She took a deep exhale watching her breath follow the wind as she walked to Mimi’s car and slammed the door shut behind her. Finally letting the tears fall from her face before she started it and drove away.

She made a promise to herself as she left, just minutes until she became a year older. That somehow she’d find her way back, even though she may be picking up the pieces of what she left behind.

note: my girl y/n going thru it?? everyone going thru it?? ik she's not a text chapter but I hope u enjoy!! (also fully writing my author note low-key drunk?) anyway! after the next two chapter + the epi my big gawg is ending (sad?) but I hope u all will enjoy my pfd fic etc sorry it took me so long to get her up I wanted her to be good! ok! (steam nct dream smoothie ?? or unknown the whole album hits ily??)

taglist: @sun-daddy-yoriichi@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo@minhui896@wonwooz1@porridgesblog@jasssy051@soonyoungblr@saucegirlreads@musingsofananxiouspotato@young-adult-summer@punkhazardlaw@bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo@k-drama-adict@90s-belladonna@blaycke@dnylwoo@to-mi-yo, @nonononranghaee

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drabblemesilly · 3 months

Text

Alex Lyon #1

Requested by Anon: Can you please please write a short one about Alex Lyon of the Red Wings?

*I got you anon! Who's just as happy that he's been getting to see so much action lately? Def one of the most beautiful men in hockey! Enjoy! :)*

Word count: 1,006

Oh, he’s in a mood. You can hear Fireflies by Owl City playing on loud even before you opened the front door to Alex Lyon’s house. Good or bad, not sure yet but there’s a reason you only hear that song after a hard loss or a phenomenal win. Seeing that their last game was two nights ago and the next one is tomorrow, you’re in unknown territory here.

The strong smell of garlic enveloped you as you enter the house.

“In here,” you heard him shout above the music – which was restarting. Oh, so Fireflies is on loop. Interesting.

On one of your very first dates, Alex mentioned that Fireflies helped him calm down, “it helps me get grounded every time I get overwhelmed,” he said. Something about the instruments or lyrics, you really didn’t pay attention to him much then. His eyes were distracting and his pretty, pretty face was overwhelming. Ha!

You found him in the kitchen, wielding a knife, flour streaks all over his face and neck. Oh gosh, is that a piece of onion stuck in his hair?

“What is this?” you laughed, putting your purse on the counter and peering, “salmon vs Alex Lyon?” you gave him a quick peck on the cheek, “honey, I think you’re gonna lose,” your nose crinkled, “you already smell like fish!”

He giggled, the kind of giggle that only he can do, music to your ears, honestly, “make yourself useful and peel some potatoes, pretty girl!”

“Pretty girl? Oh buttering me up too,” you smiled, getting some potatoes from the sink, “you seem cheerful today. Should I run for the hills?”

His grin even got wider, “I’m starting in the next five games, I got the call this morning.”

Dropping the potatoes, you gasped, “Alex, what did you do?”

He looked up, eyes wide and wild, “what? What?”

“What did you do, Alex?” you feigned seriousness.

“What?” he asked again, all serious and panicky now, “what did I do?”

You grinned, eyes sparkling, “to James Reimer.”

Alex visibly relaxed, finally catching the joke, “you’re mean,” he pouted, “no salmon for you.”

Shrugging, you jumbled over to him and nearly tackled your smelly boyfriend, “I’m kidding, you dork,” jumping up to kiss his flour-covered neck, “wow, Alex, wow. That’s good, right? We’re happy, right?”

He nodded, squeezing lemon into the salmon marinade, “we’re very happy,” he pointed to the fish, “we’re having salmon!”

He stopped chopping or whatever he was doing to the fish for a second and looked at you, “so when are you finally gonna have me teach you to skate?”

Reaching out to bump him a little, you smiled, “now that,” you smirked, washing your hands and pouring some red wine in a discarded glass, “is something for later,” drinking a little wine, you peered over his shoulder at whatever he’s concocting, “there’s a reason you’re a goalie buddy,” you joked.

“I hope you choke,” he laughed, taking your glass and sipping from it, “I’m joking,” he said in the next breath. Alex never figured out how to read your reactions to his jokes so he always felt the need to clarify.

“I know,” you assured him, “I’m still not trusting you to teach me to skate.”

He stomped a foot, “but I’m a professional hockey player. I’m on skates the same amount of time I’m in shoes.”

The foot stomping caused a belligerent curl fall on his forehead, you snickered at that. Sometime he just looks like a lost little puppy. Or a kitten. If he has his way, he’d be a lost secy kitten.

You reached to tug on the curl, “honey, you’re not Sidney Crosby.”

“I have his butt, though,” he offered.

“Still a no,” you laughed, “don’t worry, cutie, you’re more good-looking. And you’re a better goalie.” You gulped, “I think,” you said, “I hope,” you scoffed, “you never know with Sidney Crosby, he’s probably better at it than Linus Ullmark.”

Alex Lyon is one of the best goalies in the NHL and you will die on that hill. Did people think he was overrated when he skipped his last year in the NCCA to turn pro? Yes. Did he get shuffled around from Philly to North Carolina to Florida and now to Detroit? Yes. Did he once question how good he was at hockey because he couldn’t seem to get his footing in the NHL? Yes.

Did those ever diminish the fact that you believe him to be one of the best goalies in the NHL right now? No. You will die on that hill.

“If Sidney Crosby is a better goalie than me, I wouldn’t even be surprised. Linus Ullmark is definitely better than me.”

Your nose automatically scrunched, “what are you talking about?” popping a slice of cheese, you bent over the counter and winked, “I think you’re the best goalie in the NHL right now.”

He snorted, “let’s not go that far,” shifting so he can give you a loose hug.

“Not the best cook,” you pointed at the discarded fish, “but definitely the best goalie. At least for me,” you smiled, hand snaking around his back.

Resting your chin on his chest, you took a little sniff, “yup, still smelling like fish.”

He looked down and placed a small kiss on the top of your head, “I think I’ll be fine. I like it here.”

You’ve never seen Alex get more excited than when he signed with the Red Wings. That meant you were moving to Michigan and leave so many of your new-found friends in Florida but you’ll probably follow him to the ends of the world if he asked. At this point, you won’t be surprised if the sun actually shone out of his ass.

“You will be fine, Ally,” you whispered, rubbing his back, “one step at a time.”

He sighed, another round of Fireflies starting over, the fourth time since you got here, “it takes a little time but yes,” he agreed, “one step.”

“So,” you clapped, “about that…” you gestured to the fish.

He snickered, “pizza?”

“Pizza it is."

#hockey imagines #nhl imgaines #drabbles #drabble #my writing #fanfic #imagines #detroit red wings #Alex Lyon

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cceanvvaves · 8 months

Text

warm; m.mn

(moved to isanggayfrog) warning: literally one swear word

"I swear I did not mean for this to happened." I groaned.

My sister had just called me saying that she couldn't pick me up. Yes, I can drive, but I don't have the car with me right now since my sister took it this morning, offering to drive Mina and I to the amusement park instead.

My mom can't pick us up either, because she was probably still at work.

Ughh. All I wanted was for my first official date with Mina to be perfect! The worst thing is, there was no taxi in sight, and it was so late that the last bus had left. So now we either had to wait for 2 boring long hours waiting for my sister or start walking.

Mina chuckled beside me, "It's okay," she said, "at least I get more time with you."

Despite the cold winter air nipping at my skin, her words warmed my heart. Honestly, how can a woman be so perfect?

I gently took her soft hand in mine. "Wanna wait?"

"Nah, I'd rather walk. It's less cold that way." she said softly. "Okay then, whatever you want my queen." I joked, bowing as if I were her servant. Her adorable giggle entered my ears, making my lips form a smile. "Shall we walk, my bodyguard?" I laughed, "We shall."

She pulled me along with a skip in her step. She looked around, admiring the beauty of this silent winter night, but I admired her beauty instead. "Y/N!" she suddenly said. "Look! There's a dart stand over there."

I looked in the direction she was pointing at and saw a stand with balloons at the back, surrounded with plushies. "Can we go there?" Mina begged. "I promise I'll do something you'll like next time."

Next time... I fished out some bills from my back pocket and discovered that I still had 20,000 won. "Alright."

My lovely girlfriend grinned and excitedly waddled to the stand. "Hello, ma'am." I greeted the old lady in charge. "I'd like to play." She beamed at me. "Of course, of course. 10,000 won for a cup of 15 darts." "I'll take 2, then." I handed her the money and began to play.

Out of the 30 darts, I missed only 7 balloons. Mina cheered. I glanced at her. "Which one do you want?" I asked. She shyly pointed at the penguin plushie. Ah, of course... The old woman handed her the plushie. "Good night, you two. You make a great couple." she complimented. "Good night, ajumma! Stay warm!"

We left, Mina now clutching her new toy. I chuckled at her and pinched her cheeks. "Ah, so cute." I cooed. She whined and tried to pry my hands off. I refused, so she hugged me instead, taking me by surprise.

I started to feel a bit cold and shivered against my will. Mina pulled away. "Ah, you're not wearing your scarf properly." she scolded. "You'll really get cold, then." She handed me the penguin and fixed my scarf around my neck. "Okay, that's better."

I got an idea. "Last one to the corner is an old, ancient human!" I shouted and sped away. "Yah!" She screamed after me, trying to over take me. In the end, she won, because I let her win. "I win!" she taunted, sticking her tongue out.

I sighed dramatically and quickly took my phone out, snapping a picture of her cute expression. She blinked in surprise, then tackled me, trying to take my phone. I had he advantage of height, and even with her tiptoe-ing, she could not reach it.

"Y/N~" she frowned, "delete it." "Why?? It's cute." She scowled further. Then her eyes lit up. She smirked mischievously. "Oh no." She poked my stomach. "Ah!" I yelped. "Mina, stop!" She started giggling and kept poking me, until I made the mistake of lowering my hand.

She grabbed the phone and deleted the photo. "Ah..." I said sadly, "it was so cute..." She winked at me and switched the camera to selfie mode. She made an even more adorable face and handed me back the phone. "There. You better make that your wallpaper." I rolled my eyes playfully and kissed her forehead. "Obviously."

I spotted a light nearby. "Hey, you hungry?" She nodded. I led her over to the store and almost drooled at the food for sale. Fish cake, Tteokbokki, Sotteok Sotteok, bungeoppang...

I ordered a cup of fish cake. I heard Mina grumbling behind me. I turned to her. "What's wrong?"

She pouted at me. "My hands are cold." I snickered and handed her the hot pack in my pocket. "Thanks..." she mumbled. After a few minutes, the guy selling handed me the food. With Mina's hands occupied with her plushie and hot pack, I fed her. "It's still hot." I warned, blowing at the soup before letting her take a sip.

We finished it after a short while, now warm inside. We resumed our walk, still not tired, surprisingly. The leaf-less trees loomed over us, casting shadows on the ground. I heard the chirping of crickets, and the lonely road was illuminated by street lights every few meters.

I noticed that it had started snowing. "Minari, look, it's snowing." I whispered to her. She eagerly looked up and tried to catch the little snowflakes. I secretly took a few more photos of her.

"Y/Nie! Let's take a photo together." I walked next to her and posed, poking her cheek just before the countdown ended. "Ahhh~" she whined. She smacked me on the arm. "Go over there, I'll take a picture." Laughing, I obeyed her, not wishing to receive another hit.

We had fun taking photos of each other and playing around before I checked my watch and realized that it was 2:03 in the morning. Oh shit, her dad is gonna kill me...

"Mina, let's go." We arrived at the subway station, and all the way to our stop we stayed silent. Finally, we arrived at her house. Before she unlocked the door, she turned to me.

"We'll have another date, right?" she asked. "Of course. You're my girlfriend after all, one date isn't enough." I replied. "Promise?" "Promise." She held out her pinky finger, Smiling, I intertwined our pinkies. "Satisfied?" I said, a little teasingly. She nodded and turned back to her house. She held out a hand to the door knob. Instead of getting in, she hurried over to me and placed a quick kiss on my cheek.

When I got back to my senses, she already disappeared into the house. "Oh, Mina..." I told myself, holding a hand on the cheek she kissed, "the things you do to me."

I made my way to my house, humming happily and recounting the things that happened today, excited to see my girl again tomorrow.

#gn!reader #twice #myoui mina #mina x reader #twice imagines

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transformee · 1 year

Text

5th Annual TF Writer Christmas Exchange

Thank you to my new friend @fridayotter for the wonderful story, and Merry Christmas!

———————————————————————

Can’t touch this… 😉

Doug chuckled to himself as he hit send on his latest gym selfie along with an old cheesy MC Hammer gif. Being the alpha top that he was, he loved giving his partner Chase a little lighthearted teasing. Chase had started to work out with him some days to try and put on some real size like Doug, but his progress had been slow. Chase’s one standout asset was just that - his ass - and Doug certainly relished in it as well. He even secretly tailored some of Chase’s workouts to focus more on his glutes. Doug was an ass man through and through, and Chase’s belonged to him. Not that Chase was against it himself. Their relationship worked for them overall, and Chase couldn’t get enough of that feeling when Doug’s alpha cock would work its way through his cheeks. But once… just once… Chase longed to know what it would be like on the other end, plunging into Doug’s muscular haunches. He had topped with other guys before, but never with Doug. Doug was adamant about his position in the relationship, in a nice and caring way thankfully, but he was unwilling to make an exception, even for special occasions. It was the one part of their relationship that made Chase sigh a mix of longing and frustration. He quickly packed that all back away as he heard Doug coming back in the door from his last pre-Christmas workout.

“Cute pic, stud, haha,” quipped Chase as he gave Doug’s ass a playful slap as he headed to the shower. A smirk crossed his face as he had indeed touched that. “Hehe, you know that’s not what I meant, babe…. Maybe one day!”

Chase sighed again as he heard the shower started up. One day…

——————————————————————

Christmas Eve came and went with presents opened and merriment had. The winter sun streamed in the window, rousing Chase from his dream. He stumbled towards the kitchen for some coffee when something caught his eye in the living room. There was a single stocking on the floor under the tree with something inside. Doug followed moments after Chase made his way to the tree.

“Morning, Dougie! Hey, do you remember this stocking last night?”

“Morning, babe,” said Doug with a grin. “Nah, it’s not mine. Go for it - all you!”

Chase reached inside and fished out a single item.

“What the… what is Wishing Lube? Cute, haha. I assume you got this for us to play with later…”

Doug had an oblivious look on his face. “Nope, was me,” he shrugged. “Sounds like a gag gift but only one way to find out!” he said with a grin.

“Haha, well how about I wish you finally let me use it and top for a change!”

“Maybe when you really commit to those workouts and get bigger than me, haha. How’s that for a deal?” Chase just smiled. “Bet!” He knew better than to actually get his hopes up. “But in the meantime… I’ve got a stocking you can stuff if you want to give it a try…” Chase playfully traced his finger along the tube as he headed back to the bedroom. Doug sprinted after Chase and tackled him onto the bed with a grin. “Don’t have to ask me twice!”

Clothes flew off, and Chase assumed his position over the side of the bed. He could hear Doug squirting the lube into his palm and moaning as he slathered his stiffening cock. “Mmmm, Merry Christmas to- mmmmm, me!” Doug shoved his rock hard cock into Chase’s ass with a moan as he had so many times before. Back and forth, in and out, he animalistically pumped into Chase, failing to notice the slight wisps of… something swirling around Chase’s body. It looked almost like a frosty mist as it flowed around him, slowly working its magic. Unbeknownst to Doug, Chase’s eyes had long since rolled back under its influence. Doug simply raced towards his climax, feeling a massive load building up. Something about it felt like the biggest cum of his life. It soon became overwhelming as the wisps of frost quickly grew, enveloping the couple. And from somewhere inside that frosty veil, Doug blew his enormous load into Chase’s ass with a roar, and with it went so much more.

———————————————————————

“Babe! Babe! Wake up! Doug…!”

Doug startled awake as someone violently shook his shoulders.

“Look at me! I’m huge! This feels amazing!”

Doug’s eyes went wide as he watched the gargantuan stranger snap his dog’s huge bone in half.

“Who… who the fuck are you?!?! What are you doing in my house?!”

“Babe, Dougie, it’s me! Chase! I must’ve passed out, and when I woke up, I looked this! And you…” Chase’s voice trailed off. Doug sprang up off the bed, but something felt off. He rushed over to the bathroom mirror. “What do you mean??? What about me-“ Doug froze as he looked at his reflection. Sure enough, it mimicked his movements perfectly as he slowly moved his hands around an unfamiliar face and body.

“Wha- wha- I- I’m?!?”

Doug could only stare at the mirror in disbelief, but somehow he could feel it and knew it was real. His muscles… his height… his age… it had clearly been sapped away, and it seemed like Chase had been the benefactor.

“Wha- how-?” Doug stammered. Chad threw up his massive shoulders in a giant shrug. “How should I know? One minute we were having sex like normal with that Wishing Lube and then…” Chase’s voice trailed off as they both instantly thought the same thing. It couldn’t possibly…

“Where is it?!? It has to be here somewhere!” Doug barged past Chase, bouncing off him in frenzy before pouncing on his prey on the bedside table.

“To Chase. From Santa. Use responsibly. Effects may last for up to a week?!? The hell…?!?”

“I dunno! I thought it was from you. And you’re the one who used it, remember? Calm down. We’ll figure this out!”

And with that, somehow, some way, Chase’s words washed over Doug, dissolving away the moment of panic and uncertainty. “Yeah, you’re right. At least I’m still cute!”

Chase’s eyebrow shot up at Doug’s remark. Cute? He had never referred to himself that way before. And why was he suddenly so calm? “Are you sure you’re OK? You seem… different all of a sudden…”

“Yeah, babe, I’m fine! It was just a shock at first. Who knew that stuff could actually work?”

It… worked? Chase’s mind started racing. Had he really made this happen somehow? If so… he had to test it.

“Hey, so, ummmm, do you remember our bet, Dougie?”

“Bet? What bet? I don’t…” Doug paused as he realized what Chase meant. “Ohhhhhh, that. I, um… hmmm, well I guess a deal’s a deal?” Part of Doug couldn’t believe what he was saying, but another part of him was curious. Chase was definitely bigger than him now, and what would it feel like to have this monster boyfriend inside of him? “I guess I can make an exception given the circumstances, but only til this wears off!”

“Sold!” Doug was quickly tackled onto the bed with ease by a gleeful Chase. They pretended to wrestle for a moment, not that it would have been a contest at that point, before Doug found himself bent over the side of the bed just as he had done to Chase so many times before. He found himself surprisingly excited though. He had never bottomed before, much less with someone as big as Chase had become. A familiar squirting sound snapped his back to reality as Chase lubed up to fulfill his wish.

“Just go easy on me, big fella!” Doug joked. “This is a first for me, so- aaaaAAAHHHH!” Doug yelped in surprise from the unfamiliar sensation as Chase plunged into his virgin hole. “Oh Jesus! Shit shit shit!” That was all Doug’s brain could process as Chase’s thick cock rammed his prostate on repeat. Is… is this what he had been missing out on all this time??? I… I could get used to this! God, I wish this could go on forever! The men moaned together from their new perspectives as those nearly invisible traces of frost blew lightly through the room, shifting reality ever so slightly in response to Doug’s newfound desire. The increase in his moans was definitely not slight however, as Chase exploded into Doug’s for the very first time. It went through him like a wrecking ball, both physically and mentally as his knees buckled, and deep down in his soul, his old preconceptions of being an alpha top shattered like glass as the men collapsed on top of each other once again.

———————————————————————

The rest of the weekend went largely the same way, save for a few changes that went unnoticed by either man. With Doug’s cherry popped, he found himself craving the sensation of being filled up to the brim, and with every load that Chase pumped into him, slowly but surely, his past desires to top simply melted away. And with every time Doug felt that climax inside of him, those cold wisps of magic passed by once more. As his inhibitions about bottoming fell away one by one, aspects of reality shifted as well, balancing back towards a happy medium of the mens’ desires. The new Chase remained as he was, but Doug began to change. After one round, his glutes grew rounder and stronger. The next, some of his previous bulk began to return. And some more. And some more. Before long he was almost as muscular as he was before. However he was so happy and content with his new dynamic, Doug however didn’t even notice. Everything simply felt right as his beard started to return with some flecks of gray. A few days later, the last bit of lube remained. By the point the wishes of both men were perfectly in sync. Rather than returning to his former height, Doug’s age grew instead as reality snapped into place one last time. Chase ultimately got what he wanted in his new size and alpha top role, while Doug received what he never knew he desired. When the last traces of magic dissipated, Doug stood proudly as a power bottom muscle daddy, and all was as it was supposed to be…

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justimajin · 10 months

Text

Winter Splashes

Genre: Pure Fluff (with like a drop of angst)

↳ Writer Reader x Painter Taehyung AU

Words: 14k

Summary: Being a writer is a difficult job - you have daunting deadlines to meet, new characters to develop and constantly seek out bundles of inspiration. However, this profession also demands that you go with the flow, a simple phrase that morphs into a much bigger business issue when your book sales are on the verge of disappearing. It doesn't help that you're thrown a major curve-ball, one that leaves you asking a very ominous question:

✒ How are you supposed to write about romance?

The large brown table has a mountain of colours spewed on it, ranging from hard-covered to soft-covered, light laughs to deep wails, a short stack of words with sharp statements to a long flow of words that could have imaginations whisked away. The bound pages each have different illustrations depicted, their sheer volume only seeming to be endless when another array of them starts to form right below the table. Among all this, two words are engraved with a swirl into each of them and it’s a name that never fails to raise a hearty smile.

“Y/N L/N.”

The man on the other end repeats in the midst of your thoughts, your eyes trailing along with every book he takes out of the cardboard box. His brows are furrowed whenever he leans down, brown locks falling down onto his eyes and flush lips stretched out in wonder. He glances over at you with wide eyes from where you’re seated in the corner, the forecasted dreamy look you hold immediately vanishing into bewilderment. “There’s seriously a lot of them now.”

With a smile, you nod as he places the last batch underneath the table and turns to face you, “All of them did well in the market too.” He picks up a black book with dark purple and red swirls lining the cover, clouds of smoke in the background of a woman who holds a horrific expression, “Even after you created this,” Another book meets his hands, this time with hues of pink, blue and yellow splashed on the surface, a multitude of flowers scattered on the surface, “And then this.”

A chuckle escapes you, springing up from your seat with a cherry grin.

“Well, you know what they say!” You point a cheesy finger at him, placing a powerful hand on your hip like you were some kind of superhero, “The biggest risks will always lead to the best results.”

“Or the worst results.” He pursues his lips, “But you have managed to tackle a lot of genres in your writing, I’ll say that much.”

You stroll closer, eyes dramatically wide and mouth agape, “Was that a….compliment?”

He whips around, appearing offended. “Hey! I’ve given you plenty of compliments before.”

“You said my last book was ridiculous and that I wasn’t allowed to turn the main character into a fish.”

“Because that was ridiculous! Why would you even write something like that?!”

“It’s unique! You know, the good ol’ being interesting enough to read more?” You smirk, leaning towards him with suspicious eyes, “Are you sure you’re an actual editor, Jin?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, placing the book in his hands down with a sigh, “I’m just saying that maybe you could try writing something simple this time around. Something without all the plot twists and weird revelations.”

You narrow your eyes, not yet ready to budge until he glares at you in exasperation, “Hm, Fair enough. So what’s hot on the market?”

You eagerly eye him, aware of his tendency to keep tabs on what the current status of the highest selling books were.

“There’s been a demand for something else recently.” His voice grows wary and you raise an eyebrow, following after him as he brings over a sealed box you’ve haven’t seen before. He slices through the tape and begins taking out the paper packaging, revealing a new set of books that don’t carry your signature.

“What is this?” You probe, picking one up that has an intricate image of a boy and a girl with glittering golden and silver eyes. “A werewolf story?”

Jin hums, “There’s other ones too.”

The books go flying from the box as you toss them out, taking one quick glance before allowing it to meet the pile you’re forming on the table. There’s covers depicting snow with a vampire, an image of a stethoscope, another of a basketball court, and heck, even one with the premise of two people switching bodies. You stare at Jin perplexed, not grasping onto how these random titles were going to be helpful to you.

He leans back, resting himself on the perch of the table. He smiles like he knows something you don’t ‒ a gesture that has you nearly pestering him for an answer until he finally speaks.

“How do you feel about romance?”

“The genre?” He nods, “I don’t know, I guess it’s nice? It’s cute and all, and that-”

He continues to smile and there’s something about it that’s unintentionally connected to the dots for you.

You’ve made up your mind already, “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s romance!” You raise up your hands in exasperation, but Jin just stares at you, not understanding the big deal, “You know, people gushing and giggling over each other for an entire book. Who wants to read something like that??”

“This is coming from someone that wrote about a guy turning into a fish.”

“It was unique!” You chime in again, but Jin simply sighs and slides over the books you had previously yanked out.

“It’s not what the market wants though, Y/N. All of these books went on to become popular just for being in the genre.” He attempts to reason, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I still think you should give it a shot.”

Your lips set into a firm line, gaze drifting over to the atrocious covers that Jin’s lined up on the table.

You suppose it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, you’ve been through writing spurts, endlessly crafting out fantasy words in efforts of making it through the deadlines you’re faced with. You’ve faced the mixture of stress and adrenaline, desperately pushing yourself to keep going even if your tank of fuel is failing on you. You’ve spent the long hours of digging your nose into hours of research, familiarising yourself with something out of your comfort zone just for the sake of making your writing better.

But...romance?

A genre you’ve skimmed over in hopes of creating something else, a genre that you’ve barely given a second glance because…...well…

You research things. You try to improve things. And the best way to improve, is totry…...

Even though you have no clue what you’re getting yourself into.

“I don’t know…” You quietly mumble, fiddling with the bottom of your sweater. “What if it sucks?”

“You’ll never know unless you try.” Jin offers, but it doesn’t take away the unsettling feeling in your stomach from just thinking about it. He simply stares as you grow silent, letting out a sigh.

Reaching over to grab a familiar coat, he tosses it over your head. You immediately react, flabbergasted by the sudden flying article of clothing.

“What was that for?!”

“Come on.” He slides his arms through a brown one with a knowing smile, “You work based on inspiration,” He glances around the dusty office, nearly packed with opened cardboard boxes and books, “and I don’t think you’ll get much from here.”

You grin, slipping on the rough material instantly.

***

The streets are bustling, packed with crowds of people huddled together. They’re surrounded by cream coloured skyscrapers from a far distance, rows of bare oak trees lining the roads. The scent of fresh winter lingers in the air, newly arrived after the scattering of orange and red leaves on the ground.

You fist your hands up, a cheer erupting from your throat. A hand suddenly pushes through, covering your mouth.

“Why are you screaming?” Jin asks in exasperation, staring at you in disbelief when you still continue despite his attempts at halting you.

You pry his hand off, “I haven’t been outside in so long!!” You instantly run off, bumping into some civilians with no care and then giving them a cheeky wink when they glare at you. Jin rushes forward, grabbing onto you again.

He sighs, stuffing his icy hands into his coat pockets, “Y/N, you’re supposed to be a writer, not a hermit.”

“You can’t have both, Jin.” You remind him, “Plus I’ve spent hours working on my deadlines so I’m in need for some fu-Ooh! Look!”

He whirls around to see you dashing over a pile of leaves in the corner, diving headfirst into them before he can stop you. Giggles escape you as Jin can’t help but smile a bit at the display too. However, that’s when he remembers why he even offered to bring you out inside, leaning over to grasp onto your arm.

“Alright, come on Miss. Tree Lover.” He helps you up, quirking an eyebrow at the leaves currently trapped and poking out of your hair. You instantly brush them out, following him around.

“Well?” He says with hopeful eyes as you take in the busy area.

“Well what?”

“Really?” He ponders, leaning closer, “No crazy amounts of inspiration yet?”

“That’s not how it works!” You chide, “It takes more than that, you know? I gotta have a type of feeling.”

“A type of feeling?”

You roll your eyes at his obvious sarcasm, “Yeah, like I see something and the urge to write just‒”

Your eyes spark up at a particular store and before you know it, you’re yanking Jin to come along with you.

“What is it??”

“Look!” You point over to the shop burgeoning with hard bound books. Planting your hands against the window, the glass fogs with the warmth you radiate as you peer inside, seeing countless of titles you recognize.

“Aren’t those…?” Jin whispers from behind you, a huge dreamy smile crossing your lips.

“Yeah.” You glance at the familiar works in front of you, eyes carefully watching people that walk across the selves. A particular group huddled in the corner catches your attention right away, one of them flicking through pages you’ve probably dispensed part of your soul into.

She pauses at one page, eyes starting to focus in and appearing intrigued. Her lips have thinned out, lost in thought even with the group near her talking amongst themselves.

You know that look.

The excitement in your eyes instantly shifts into tenderness, simply content with watching someone hold curiosity in them from your words.

But the perfect mirage cracks.

“Hey guys, check this one out!”

The girl immediately spins around, shuffling over to view the alluring title her friend has pulled out. However, in the midst of this, the familiar hard bound pages are instantly discarded, plopped back onto the shelf without another single glance.

Your smile falls, eyes tingeing with dismay. You can only watch from afar as she swipes through new material, her attention grasped unlike before.

Sight lingering down, you recognize the type of literature she holds. It only contributes more to your sorrow, left hopelessly gazing at the genre you’ve strayed extremely far from.

Jin is silent from behind you, noticing that your immediate cheerfulness has disappeared within seconds. He’s still silent when you turn to him in disappointment, muttering the words he’s been trying to drill in your head since this morning.

“I think….I’ll give it a shot.”

He hums, gesturing for you to leave. “Just try your best, and don’t force yourself.”

You nod, following after him once you’ve managed to tear your vision away from the scene. Although you’ve come down to the resolve he’s wanted, it doesn’t help at all to take away the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

***

You already have a concept in your hands. Now all you gotta do is write it.

How hard can it be?

Within the span of ten minutes, soft thugs begin to resonate through the room. You lull you head over and over again against the surface of your table, deep exhausted sighs leaving your body.

Did you really say how hard can it be? Did the you of ten minutes ago actually think this was easy?!

Sinking back into your chair, you stare at the blank document with empty eyes. It hasn’t moved an inch in that time frame and neither have you.

Romance ‒ that’s it. Just write a story about two people falling for each other and seal the deal with a pretty looking bow.

But then why are you still stuck staring at the screen?

A groan of defeat leaves your lips and you slump against your desk. A brown-haired individual pokes by your door, raising an eyebrow.

“All good?” Jin asks. You barely move your head, an indecipherable murmur releasing from your throat.

“I see…” He hums at the answer, straightening up and leaning against the frame, “If you’re that stuck, why don’t you do some research about it? You usually like that, right?”

At the sound of the suggestion, your head immediately whips back with a hopeful glint in your eyes. Jin conceals his laughter as you start rapidly typing on your keyboard, taking that as an indication to leave you be as he goes back to editing your recent stories.

Meanwhile, you’re having the time of your life.

Of course! Research! The saving grace in a writer’s world!

You’ve done it countless times before. Whether it was about being knowledgeable in understanding the mechanics of worldbuilding, to figure out the basic meanings of things you’ve previously had no clue about.

However, the aspect you’re not accustomed to is your screen filling up with random articles.

“How to tell if you’ve met your lifetime soulmate?” You narrow your eyes, “Ten ways of getting your crush to like you back…?”

You scroll through, coming across more strange suggestions that give you zero insight for your current situation. Frowning, you wonder if you’re not searching hard enough ‒ until your eyes are left staring at the small advertisement in the corner of the screen.

“Check out the latest kdrama’s here….?” Hovering your mouse over the link, a broad spectrum of shows flood your eyes instantly. There’s a range of story types and titles, but what catches your interest the most is the tagline.

In need for some romance? Heal the woes of your lonely heart here then!

You lean back, staring at the shows. You suppose it won’t hurt to check one of them out, after all, it could give you the details you’ve been searching for.

Making up your mind, you commit the mistake of watching the first episode of a series.

***

Jin rubs his sore eyes, letting out a low yawn. He’s been unpacking more and more boxes from the publisher, carefully organizing them based on genre for the past couple of hours. After that horrendous task, he has decided to go through the latest story you’ve handed over to him, vision glued to his monitor as he highlights and circles places of improvement.

He doesn’t want to take the harsh approach, but it goes without saying that your writing has been a little lacking these days. Usually he lets you do your thing and he does his own as long as you meet the deadlines, but he wonders if you’ve sacrificed the caliber in your writing in exchange.

It isn’t terrible as you would probably take it. It still follows the unique concept trend you’ve focused on for so long. However, there seems to be something missing, something he can’t quite pinpoint even after going through pages and pages.

With a sigh, he squeezes his heavy eyes shut for a moment before narrowing in onto the screen again. But his thought process is snatched away with a loud thud, and he instantly raises his head, wondering if a book has perhaps fallen down.

Surprisingly, nothing’s fallen.

Glancing around, he can only ponder until a boisterous laugh echoes through the walls, closely followed with prolonged wails. He slowly rises from his seat, following the intense sound as the frequency increases.

He comes to a pause in front of your door, knocking softly. “Y/N?”

Instead of words, he greeted to a chain of sobs. Twisting the knob to your office, he pokes his head in.

“Y/N? Are you ok‒”

To his defence, your office looks exactly how he has initially left it. But now it’s completely dark save for the subdued corner in the room, where you lie wrapped around with a blanket. Your eyes are glued to the bright source of light in the room, namely your computer screen, and there’s a bag of popcorn alongside a box of tissues right next to you. Aside from the strange position, your cheeks are completely drenched and there’s a hysterical look to your eyes.

He doesn’t know what to say.

“Uh….”

The sound of his voice catches your attention, eyes widening, “Jin! Oh my god, Jin, it's so sad!”

“What’s sad?”

“This kdrama!” You point to your screen, “It’s so sad! First they were friends, and then they started liking each other, but then they kissed and everything went downhill after this second guy came in!”

Jin crouches down, barely able to make out what's on screen due to the excessive water sticking to it.

“You’re watching a drama?”

You hurriedly nod, “Now the girl is starting to fall for the second guy because of a misunderstanding! How are they going to fix all this?!”

“Y/N…” Jin says in exasperation, “Is this what you’ve been doing for the past couple of hours?”

You pout, hiding the device that clearly displays episode seven.

“N-No........”

Jin pretends not to see it, “Y/N, your next deadline is within two weeks. You really need to start working on this.”

He grabs hold of your arm, pulling you out of the kdrama cocoon you’ve built around yourself. You let out a deep sigh, pressing your hand against your temples.

“You’re right...I need to stop wasting time…” You whisper and Jin hums, swiveling around.

“I have to get back to editing but I’ll come back in an hour once I’m done.” You nod as he turns to leave, slumping back down on your desk with a tired exhale.

He was right. The moment you clicked onto that link, the hours spun by faster than you could count them and you’ve got nothing done at this point.

Prying open your laptop again, you resume back to the blank document.

***

Jin has assumed his words have knocked some sense into you as he makes his way back to your office.

What he doesn’t assume, is to see you sitting on the ledge of the broad window with a book in your hands.

“You’re reading…?” He wonders. Normally he wouldn’t even question it, but his eyes drift over to the blank document once again and something tells him there’s more to the story than he initially thought.

You look up surprised, as if you hadn’t expected his arrival. His eyes stray over to the title of the book in your hands, a groan leaving him.

“Oh god, not this again Y/N!”

“It’s to help me understand!” You try to reason, but Jin is short of a few words when you’re reading a bulky thick book called ‘The Philosophy Behind Romance’.

“How is this supposed to help you?” He points to the book and you defensively curl your arms around it.

“Hear me out for a minute!” You quickly place it in your hands and rapidly flip through the pages. “Romantic love is considered to be a relation higher than the metaphysical and stems from a desire that transcends the physical body.”

Jin frowns, “What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea. But!” You hastily intervene as Jin looks like he’s about to protest, “I think it can help me with creating the story.”

“I don’t think any of this is going to work.”

“What?” He walks over, taking the book out of your hands and straight up discarding it into your trash can. “HEY!”

“You’re starting to run out of fuel.” He states, noticing the way your expression sours. You know he’s right, but won’t admit it. “You need to get away from all this.”

He gestures to the book and the blank document you still have pulled up, reminding you of the ill circumstance you had yet to do something about.

A dreary sigh leaves your lips, brows knitted together, “I’m trying Jin, I really am.” You gesture to the same empty document, “It’s just so hard. I-....I don’t know what to do.”

Jin places a hand on your shoulder, nodding, “You’re out of your comfort zone and you’re having writer’s block. It’s understandable, but I don’t think research is what's going to help you this time.”

You pout at that, but then Jin swivels around and hands your coat to you.

“Why don’t you try going out for a walk? Clear out your mind and come back with some fresh inspiration?”

“That doesn’t sound too bad…” You reminisce. Tugging your arms through the sleeves, Jin smiles and opens the door for you, ushering you towards the stairs that descend down. You wave at him before disappearing, hoping to yourself that you can get something out of this to clear away the clouds brewing over your creative mind.

***

Glittering stars fill up the night sky, a bright crescent moon twinkling and illuminating the empty roads. Save for the sound of awake crickets and the faint honking of cars nearby, the sidewalk you trudge on is completely silent.

It offers a different scenery compared to your cramped office room, something you didn’t realize you would appreciate as much until it dawns on you that you’ve probably spent several hours in the midst of trying to figure out your story instead of actually writing it. After all, you have been posed with a solid issue and as time spins by, you begin to think that it’s more than doing some mere research could possibly resolve.

Tugging the hem of your coat closer to your red nose, your eyes glance around. You attempt to take some of Jin’s advice to heart, pondering if anything nearby can perhaps spark a flame of inspiration that you’ve been desperately lacking.

That’s when you see it.

Your brows furrow and you have to blink your eyes twice for it to make sense. Sheer curiosity traps you as you saunter over, tilting your head to the side and then to the opposite direction until you blink once more.

Strokes of black and blue envelope the delicate white background that peeks through, specks of gray and white blotted carefully where the lines meet. There’s a peculiar circular shape portrayed in the middle of it, messily splattered with a hue of dull yellow. It looks like something you’ve come across before, something that felt familiar, something that‒

Your eyes look up, the same image appearing right above you.

A frown mars your lips and when your vision focuses back on the piece, a head full of blonde hair sticks out from behind it.

You’re almost ready to unleash a scream, not quite expecting movement from the presumed stationary canvas. You hear a soft sound, seemingly sounding like a low mumble, before silence takes over again. Raising an eyebrow, you take a step forward.

It occurs to you that the canvas you had noticed was actually perched up against a wooden bench, and on that bench, is a person that’s sleeping.

You hesitantly peer at them, noticing that the stranger was in fact a man. He appears to be in the middle of a snooze fest, chest lightly rising in the midst of soft snores escaping him. His face is entirely covered with a black beret, strands of blonde hair peeking out.

There’s a list of questions in your mind, starting from why he was randomly lying down on the bench in the middle of the night to the painting that’s positioned next to his head. While the absurd scenarios explaining his situation run through your mind, his arm moves and you experience your second heart attack for the day.

The beret falls down onto his lap as he stretches his arms, a deep yawn passes by his lips. You remain frozen as he does so, having moved a couple inches away once it dawned on you how odd it would probably be if he found out you were staring.

He sleepily blinks his eyes, narrowing them at you. You’re about to explain yourself, but he instead asks you a question.

“What time is it?”

“Uh…” You scramble around for your phone, the screen lighting up, “11:34pm.”

He hums, getting up and dusting off his jeans. Grabbing the fallen beret, he pushes the strands of his blonde hair back into the hat, revealing strong eyebrows underneath. He pulls out an old camera, hanging it around his neck and letting it drop down onto the brown coat he wears.

His feline-like eyes glance at you in wonder, drastically different from his sleeping appearance on the bench. You let out an awkward cough, a light hue of pink spreading over your skin.

After a moment of silence, he speaks up.

“Do you like my painting?” You raise your brows and blink.

“Your painting?” He nods, a soft proud smile looping on his lips. You peer at the artwork in curiosity again. “You made this?”

He hums, observing it with you, “I waited for hours to paint it.”

He points to the sky and the image finally begins to piece together for you. The black and blue embodying the sky, the shimmering stars scattered all over and the radiant moon, painted so brightly in the centre of all of it.

“You waited out here to paint the sky?”

A drawn out sigh escapes him, “Yep. I’m kind of stuck in a rut, you see.” He gestures to the painting again with a somber look in his eyes, “I wanted to paint something different, but I didn’t have any ideas, so I came out here instead to get the experience.”

“Experience?”

He hums, “It’s a lot easier to experience the moment than having to imagine it in your head.”

“R-Right…” You whisper, still staring at his painting like you were stuck in the middle of a daze. You’re alarmed when he suddenly bends down and picks up the canvas with one arm, pivoting around to face you.

“I have to get going now. Spent too much time painting that I didn’t get enough sleep.” He warmly smiles at you, outstretching his hand, “It was nice meeting you.”

You take it confused and he gives you a small nod before leaving. You watch his back disappear, gaze averting to the large canvas tucked underneath his arm.

Spinning around to head back, you dwell on his words more than you would like.

Maybe this whole time your writer’s block was stemming from something else, something you truly didn’t realize was important until now.

Experience.

But how do you experience something that’s supposed to be completely natural? Something you’re utterly clueless about?

Letting out an exhale, it seems like there’s only one person who can give you clear answers.

***

You start off the next morning at a place you would never consider yourself to express interest in.

The art museum.

You recall hearing whispers and murmurs of a new art showcase going on, your curiosity only seeming to drag you there. The sudden spike in motivation causes Jin to question about your early departure, to which you retort that you’re drawing closer to grasping a solid idea for your story.

Heading in, the gallery is completely adorned in pieces of art. There’s various types ‒ paintings, sculptures, graphic design ‒ you name it. You don’t realize you’re standing in awe until a couple behind you urges you to keep moving, an action that strains a sheepish smile across your lips as you hurriedly scurry away.

You constantly glance around, observing each work you come across. One painting captures your attention, hues of pastel pink and mint green mixed together on the overlay of a figure carrying a smaller figure in their hands. Your lips set into a firm line as you draw closer, eyes tracing the outline.

“You won’t understand it better if you keep staring at it like that.”

You whirl around at the sound of the voice, not quite expecting to run right into the person you were searching for. The man smirks, wearing the same brown coat you saw him in last time.

“How would you interpret it then?”

He takes a step closer, narrowing his eyes in a way you did and you scoff at his mimicry.

“I think it’s a painting of a mother and a child. She’s embracing her child and rocking them to sleep.” He points to the outline, “The colors are supposed to represent a sense of joy and relief with having her child in her arms.”

You blink, managing to piece together everything he said perfectly. The figures do appear like a mother and child, and the colors only emphasize the warmth the outline portrays.

“Woah.” You whisper, probably having not realized all that unless someone told you, “How did you figure that out?”

He smiles, “I’m the one who painted it.”

“Oh.” A chuckle escapes him at your embarrassment and you sheepishly smile. Your eyes are drawn to the painting again, but this time you narrow down on the faint signature at the bottom.

“V?” You raise an eyebrow, “Is that your name?”

He softly shakes his head, “That’s just what I use for my art. My actual name is Kim Taehyung.”

You hum and he leans forward, eyes curious.

You automatically shift away, averting your eyes from his strong gaze. “What?”

“This is the part where you introduce yourself.”

“Oh, right.” You outstretch your hand, “Y/N L/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He shakes your hand and swivels around, tilting his head as a means for you to follow him, “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

You nod, hurriedly rushing behind him as he points out several pieces and their artists. You take occasional glances around at other pieces of artwork as well, one with a solemn blue background depicting a mountain catching your eyes instantly.

“That’s really pretty.” You point out, and Taehyung endearingly laughs, glancing at you peculiarly.

“I wonder if I should be flattered that you seem to like all my work.”

“Y-You painted that one too?”

“Yep, this gallery is pretty new so a lot of my work is in here.” He slightly turns his head, enough to see you behind him, “What about you? Got a real keen eye for art?”

“Not really…” You truthfully admit, “I just happened to be walking by and thought I check it out.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?”

He suddenly pauses, causing you to stop on your heels before you plummet right into him, “Are you sure you’re not stalking me since yesterday?”

Your eyes enlarge, “What?! No, of course not! I just came in here because I heard about the recent showcase and thought...uh...” A deep sigh leaves you from your horrible inability to lie properly, “Thought I might run into you…”

Taehyung pursues his lips, “Now that’s something I’m not sure if I should be creeped out or flattered by.”

“Please don’t be creeped out!” You raise up your hands in defence, opting to tell him the truth, “I’m just stuck in the middle of writing a book and then I saw you yesterday…you were talking about how experiencing something helps you with your art…”

His voice spikes up in awe, “You’re a writer?”

You nod, “Ah, so different cameras but similar lenses…”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He fully turns to face you, a huge grin on his lips, “I don’t know if I’ll be of much use, but I can help you out if you’d like.”

“Really?” Your eyes spark up, “Thank you so much, I-I can’t believe you would want to help me out…”

“You’ve seen me being stuck in a rut.” He smiles, “I know the feeling.”

You warmly return his smile, tempted to ask him more about his experiences in painting when a woman with a clipboard suddenly approaches the two of you.

She intervenes, “Mr. Kim, the gallery would like to confirm your next showcase.”

His eyes widen, “Ah, yes-” You watch as he shoves his hand into his coat pocket, hurriedly fishing around.

He yanks out a small card, handing it to you, “It has all my contact information on it, shoot me a message whenever you have the chance.”

You quickly take the card before he’s dragged away, sending him a nod in response. He grins, waving you farewell before turning and weaving through the crowds of people viewing the showcase.

Gyrating around, you think it’s best you head back as well, knowing that Jin will be suspicious of the length of your disappearance. As you exit the museum, you glance down, reading the contents of the card.

The background is an array of colours ‒ ranging from blues, greens, reds and even yellows that are splattered in a way that seems to form a tornado. His art name and phone number are in the corner, eerily reminiscent of the way he paints his pieces ‒ drawing you in with the outlays and colours before declaring himself.

The corner of your mouth quirks up.

***

You set out the next morning, the sun beginning to shine brighter as you head closer to your destination.

You find him by the river, an old camera hanging from his neck ‒ just like the first time you had found him by the bench.

A grin makes its way to his lips, his hand waving for you when you begin to draw closer.

“Have difficulty finding it?” He gestures to the river behind you.

You shake your head, keeping a pondering finger to your lips, “Not really, I’ve been here before. I usually go over there to see the book shops.”

You point over to the area you had last visited with Jin, reminiscing about finding your own books there.

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, “You’re a fan of reading other’s books?”

“Of course!” You nervously chuckle, “It’s always great to see what other writers do with their books as well!”

Taehyung stares at you for a moment, his gaze unwavering.

“You went to go see your own books?”

You sigh, squeezing your eyes, “I went to go see my own books.”

Taehyung lets out a low chuckle and you look down, biting your bottom lip.

“I’ll admit, it is a little odd‒”

“Not at all.” He shakes his head, “You found me at my own showcase, didn’t you?”

You blink, “Right…”

He shrugs, “It’s a thing for everyone who creates. You want to see how the public reacts to your art.”

You hum, a tad bit surprised by his straightforwardness. It’s an aspect that no creator would take into consideration first hand, but it’s an integral part of being one.

The public always warrants how art is received, after all.

Taehyung lifts his camera, adjusting his lenses before snapping a picture of the bookstore. You watch in confusion as he examines the picture.

“I’m surprised you like taking photos.” You innocently inquire, “Does it help you paint?”

Taehyung glances at you.

“You know the feeling of trying to stop time?”

Your brows knit together and he softly smiles, “When you take a picture, you capture a moment and stop time for a second. It isn't long, but it’s enough for a photograph.”

You watch as he slips his hand into his coat pocket, showcasing a small array of photographs. Images of the sun setting with mixes of bold orange and solemn blue are shown to you, another with a stream of ducks making ripples within the water. There’s ones of buildings and people too, but all of them are taken in angles that are captivating shots of laughter and shots of despair that could have easily been missed if the photograph had a lapse of time.

It almost reminds you of when you’re attempting to capture a particular scene in your mind as your fingertips glide on your keyboard, drawing in an atmosphere that has the reader’s senses all working.

The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls, observing the gears in your head turning.

It only takes you a handful of seconds to notice, a bashful smile lining your lips.

“Writing is like that too, not exactly similar⎯” You retract immediately, “But trying to draw in the five senses around you and bringing it out into literature…”

You glance up at Taehyung, curious to see if you were making any sense at this point. He’s no longer facing you at this point. Instead his body is facing the river, eyes fluttering shut.

There’s a spark in your own, and you hurriedly continue.

“Like this river isn’t just the scene,” You point out, “it’s the sun shining down and reflecting on the surface near the moss. It’s the birds crossing alongside the path and the voices of people nearby echoing. It’s the faint breeze in the air and the smell of greenery.”

“It’s peaceful,” Taehyung hums in content, “and calming.”

A soft smile crosses your features, “That’s what writing is like for me, taking inspiration from the real world and capturing it all into words.”

His eyes open and you notice the knowing gaze he holds, as if everything that you’ve tried to explain is second nature to him.

“So what has you stuck?” He inquires.

A deep sigh escapes you, the acknowledgement occurring that he was actually here to help with your current predicament.

“A new genre.” You admit with a grimace, “I’ve written plenty of different ones before, but there were always ones I understood well and I had no problem with creating stories from them.”

You continue, “And even if it was hard, I’ve always been able to figure it out somehow, you know? If I didn’t know about something, I would research it. If I was confused, I look it up-”

You decide to stop yourself, knowing that those outlets hadn’t been much help at this point. “I’m just…really out of my element, and the worst part is that it’s exactly what the market wants right now.”

You cross your arms, a small pout landing on your lips. It’s not like that you haven’t been vocal about your frustrations, but more so that you’re just slumped, unable to conjure anything up onto that document with the slightest clue of where to even begin.

Taehyung ‒ who had been quietly observing you the entire time ‒ puts his camera down and places his finger on his chin.

“Sometimes when I struggle to paint something new, I procrastinate.” You arch up a brow, “Like bad procrastinate. My canvas starts to collect dust.”

A chuckle escapes you and he smiles, “But then I try to think why I’m procrastinating. Do I just not feel like painting? Or is it because of something else…?”

He stares at you intently, like he’s waiting for you to finish his sentence.

You ponder, “I guess…I’m scared in a way? Of not knowing what I’m doing.”

He hums, “When that happens, I like taking out my camera. Going around and taking pictures not only gives me experience, but also lets me experience my surroundings better.” He glances around until his eyes land on you, “Sometimes I can find inspiration. Sometimes I can find interesting individuals.”

Your eyes round and he turns, angling himself back a bit and taking a snapshot of the river. You peer over his shoulder and he moves closer to you so you can view the picture better.

It’s pretty ‒ he was able to get the forecast of the sun over the bank of the river perfectly, alongside the little daisies growing alongside the shore.

“Nice?” He wonders and you nod, face brightening, “Good. Now just don’t ask me to paint it, that’ll be scary for me.”

You laugh and he turns to walk down the bank of the river with a smile.

***

The next time you get an opportunity to meet Taehyung, there’s a whirlwind in the sky.

It’s been a couple of weeks since your first encounter with him at the art gallery, but regrets are thrown all over the place the moment the wind blasts through your hair. The chills run down your spine, pickling at your skin as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Jin tells you not to go, or at most, to re-schedule. But a part of you is incredibly stubborn, frustration running through you when you know you’ll just end up in the same place ‒ staring at that blank document for endless hours.

As you hug your body as much as you can, you strut down the bustling street and glance back and forth.

Taehyung thankfully appears within a couple of seconds, his silhouette emerging from across the street.

Your eyes round.

He wears the same brown coat he always wears, but this time there’s no beret on his head. Instead his blonde locks are pushed back by the wind, his strong brows furrowed and eyes closed as he tries to navigate himself against the vicious breeze.

You’re not sure if it's the cold nipping at your cheeks or the shiver running through you, but the way your cheeks burn is enough to notice.

He glances up, eyes locking with yours. A wide smile stretches up on his lips that nearly makes you falter.

“Y/N.”

His deep voice calls your name, concern crossing his features.

“Have you been waiting long?”

You shake your head, “I-I just got here.”

“That’s good.” He hums, glancing around. “Not exactly my ideal weather, if I do say.”

You laugh, “I’m surprised my ears haven’t managed to fall off yet.”

The corner of his mouth lifts and before you know it, he’s extending his arm forward. You glance at him surprised, but he nudges you and then gestures in the opposite direction.

“Come on.”

You slip your hand in, linking your arms together. Taehyung begins to walk forward, navigating you around the busy marketplace. Surveying around, there’s various stores lined up across the edge of the street, vendors alike having many displays for you to view.

There wasn’t anything in particular for you to buy, but Taehyung had suggested that it would be good for you to come out with him and explore the new area. It makes you wonder if he wanted you to get more experience going out since after all, you spent more of your time writing and being bit of a hermit.

You peer over at him, noticing his eyes occasionally flickering and observing all the stalls he went past. It was one thing you had learned about Taehyung quickly, that it didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing, he always had this way of taking in his surroundings carefully, like he was studying every aspect.

That’s when you hear a soft gasp escape him, his hand finding yours as he rushes forward. His feet then come to an abrupt halt and you nearly trip between your own two feet.

Regaining your balance, you peer over his shoulder and notice his eyes are sparkling. Before you have a chance to question any of it, your hand is being tugged again, the bell to the store’s door ringing above you.

Your most straightforward assumption at this point was that the store must have had something to do with painting, but you’re pleasantly surprised to find yourself surrounded with pieces of clay, all decorated with bold and bright colours on various shelves.

Ceramic Art.

You distinctly recall reading about it in a book once, but had never gotten the opportunity to see it up front and close.

A piece captures your eyes immediately, your brows drawing together.

“That’s a unique one.” Taehyung remarks, stepping to stand beside you.

Quirking an eyebrow, the question lingers in your mind.

“I didn’t know you did ceramic art as well.”

Taehyung chuckles, “I actually don’t.” He puts his hands within the pockets of his coat, “It isn’t my area of expertise, but I like seeing different forms of art. Ironically, I find the way of expressing it to be the exact same.”

You blink as Taehyung steps away, taking strides towards other surrounding pieces of art and inspecting them. You’re left staring as he gazes at a pot that’s been shaped similar to a moon, swirls of dark blue and yellow specks decorating the smooth ceramic.

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips.

“It looks just like something you would have painted.”

Taehyung frowns, before the corners of his mouth quirk up. “I didn’t even notice, I just thought it looked beautiful.”

“You definitely have a good eye for art.”

“It would appear so.” He lightly laughs, turning around to view more of the art.

A part of you curiously lingers, walking up to him.

You peer over, “Does this mean you see my writing as art too?”

“Of course.” His head snaps back, “Art’s all about expression, doesn’t matter what medium you choose.”

Your face lights up.

“However,” He brings up and your eyes widen, “Every artist is never the same. People always have different stories to tell and that’s completely okay. That’s what makes them all unique.”

A glimmer enters your eyes. After the endless frustrations with your recent book, his words do send you a sense of reassurance. It can sometimes be difficult to have someone else understand why you do things the way you do ‒ even you and Jin have had your fair share of arguments over various disagreements ‒ but it all pinpointed to seeing everything in a different perspective.

You grin, “I can understand that.”

His eyes soften, “I think it also means that some genres can be harder than others, but everyone can bring their unique take on them.”

Brows lifting, your gaze fixates on him. But he spins around, gesturing for you to come over and to observe more art with him.

You walk over with no hesitation.

***

The following time you find Taehyung, fall is still letting her leaves shed and he invites you over to his studio.

A part of you is beaming with excitement ‒ having only ever seen his artistic ways when he was attempting to paint the stars and you had coincidentally stumbled across him that night. But a part of you can’t shake away the jitters, jitters that you don’t want to spend time trying to understand, deciding to just push it all away as you set out for the day.

The wind is gustful, snipping at your nose and cheeks. Hues of warm orange and bright yellow litter the ground and top the trees, the sun hiding behind grey clouds that ever so let droplets of water release.

It’s scenery that grasps you within its clutches, glimmering your eyes with awe and leaving your mouth agape.

And it’s the same scenery that he seeks to capture.

You have the simple pleasure of watching as he draws lines of jade for the trees and splatters on specks of orange and yellow. He scrambles to paint the few individuals that walk past his vision, capturing their essence into carefully placed frames.

His art style lingers between mimicking the surroundings but somehow elevating it as well, drawing in the observer with his interesting use of colour and texture.

You can only seem to watch, lost in it as well.

Time flies from you as he adds the final touches to his piece and you finally notice the way his hands are completely stained, some paint having even made its way to his nose. His brushes have seen the light of day, piled next to him in a canister.

And in the midst of it, he looks upon his painting and grins. He turns to you for the first time since you’ve arrived, breaking the complete silence as he laughs with his deep tone.

“Well, that was a lot of fun.”

You can’t help but burst into laughter as well, completely astounded by the difference in his demeanour. Astounded how easily you saw both a painter in his element and a man in his twenties observing his surroundings within the same split second.

You end up helping him clean each of his used brushes, watching him walk down the street with you as paint still remains on his face and hands.

***

“Someone seems to be doing well for themselves.”

The retort breaks you out of your thoughts, your eyes snapping up.

“Huh?” There’s a book encased within your hands, one of the few titles you had referenced in writing your mystery story.

Jin laughs under his breath. He hasn’t been able to see much of you for a while, only just knowing that you had met a painter by the name of Taehyung and he was all you would talk about these days.

He tucks away a book in his own hands, “You were smiling so much that I assumed everything has been working out. Has Taehyung’s advice been that helpful?”

Your eyes twinkle, spinning around on your heels.

“It has been! He’s so much fun to talk to, and he’s got great insight, Jin.” Your smile widens, “Who knew seeing eye to eye with a painter would be so easy?”

Jin grins, “It’s definitely got you in high spirits, I can tell you that.”

“I need to introduce you to him, Jin. I think you’ll get along great!” You chirp, reaching down to open another box.

“Woah, woah,” Jin draws closer, halting you, “I’ll take care of that, you’ve got some writing to do, remember?”

A giant pout arises on your lips, “But I said I was going to help you.”

“And you will, by writing for your new book.” He points out, “Spending time with Taehyung should have sparked something, no?”

You hum defeatedly, knowing he had a point. You had spent so much of your time with him, it was only hopeful that his words would have incited some creativity to strike you.

Letting out a big sigh, you drag yourself back to your desk and open up your computer, the blank document is showcased once again to your eyes.

***

You want to pound your head against the table.

The good news is that your document is no longer left blank. There’s rough jot notes littered on it, some random junctions from the brainstorming you were doing on ideas for the story. You’re trying to indulge your unique perspective onto the story, concepts for certain scenes stemming from a cool night out in the stars, a riverside and a busy marketplace.

But it isn’t enough.

The bad news is that you, out of all people, know that ideas are just a base. You need to build up a coherent story from it, create characters, create dynamics. And you have none of those at this moment.

It’s like all the surface level information is just complete, not the heart of your story.

You contemplate on how to begin, eyes sweeping over the jot notes listed on your document countless times. You start pulling at anything in your mind, anything that could be linked to writing romance.

A deep exhale leaves your lips, shoulders slumping down. Your hand reaches out for your mouse, closing the document tab before going to the search bar, the urge to delve in and research the topic tempting you.

You know you had tried to take a different approach with this, tried not to linger too much on the various articles, but despite the unique types of experiences you’ve had in the last couple of weeks, there still isn’t an answer to the question in your mind.

How do people even start to fall in love?

You’re in the midst of searching the question, eyes already filtering through various articles ‒ when suddenly there's a flicker in your dim eyes.

Halting your racing fingertips against the keyboard, the mouse in your hands is abandoned.

You shoot up from your desk, yanking the door wide open and running outside.

***

Jin hums a soft tone in the serene silence, opening up a box to unload the books onto the table. He’s been set on organising the newer ones that had just come in, attempting to distract himself before he checks in on you and your progress with your writing.

The door comes bursting open.

The book slips through his fingers and a blood-curdling scream escapes his throat. He spins around, brows furrowed together.

You stand in a starfish stance at the door, eyes wild and breathing heavy.

“What happened?!” Jin questions, holding a frantic hand against his racing heart.

“You‒” You raise a shaking finger at him, still gasping for air. Jin wonders why you even decided to run so fast when he’s literally a couple of doors away. “You have a girlfriend.”

He blinks, sheer unamusement crossing his features, “Seriously? That shouldn’t be news to you!”

“I know!” You raise your hands in defence, “But I have some questions I want to ask you.”

He cranes his head to the side, “You’re going to interview me?”

“Kind of.” Jin doesn’t have time to react when you’re already reaching out for a chair, dragging it closer to him.

He sits down opposite to you with a groan, “At least tell me this is for the book.”

“Hold on.” You settle down, scrutinising him, “Do you love your girlfriend?”

A scoff escapes him, “Of course I do!”

“Good, now how did you fall in love?”

Jin blinks, surprised by the genuine question. You seem interested as well, eyeing him intently.

“We met back in college.” He softly smiles, his complexion tinting pink, “She was close to someone in my friend circle and I thought she was really cute.”

“Was it love at first sight?”

“Sort of.” Jin tilts his head, “She was kind, but I wanted to get to know her before anything so we became friends first.” He explains, “Eventually, I realised I liked her a lot and asked her out.”

You hum and Jin doesn’t even realize you’re writing something down, pen in hand as you scribble onto a piece of paper.

“I can’t believe you wanted to hear about my experience.” He remarks.

“Well, I don’t really understand the romance genre in general.” You mumble, still writing. “And Taehyung said that sometimes experiencing things can help with his art, so I thought talking to someone who has experience would help me.”

Jin quirks a brow, a scrutinising look brewing in his eyes. It catches you off guard when you finally look up, taken aback by him surveying you.

“What?”

He narrows his eyes, “What’s the deal with Taehyung?”

You stare at him wide-eyed. “Deal? What deal?”

“You know what I mean.” Leaning back in his chair, he crosses his arms. The suspicious look in his eyes doesn’t disappear. “Ever since you met him, there's been a lot of ‘Taehyung this’ and ‘Taehyung that’.”

You sigh, his words drawing out a conclusion from you.

“He’s not being distracting, Jin.” You firmly state, much to his surprise. It was always a rare occasion for you to be completely serious. “I’ve learned a lot from him, and he’s truly really fascinating and inspiring to be around.”

A soft smile spreads on your features, recalling all the fond times Taehyung was either teaching you about the way he viewed the world or the places he would take you to explore.

You’re so caught up in your own thoughts that you don’t realize that Jin is still staring at you, the suspicion only increasing further in his eyes.

Jin doesn’t beat around the bush this time.

“Do you like Taehyung?”

You nearly choke, reality bringing you back as the air leaves your lungs in an instant. Glancing up at Jin mortified, you wonder how he drew up that conclusion.

“W-What?! No!” A hue of pink scatters onto your cheeks and Jin quirks his head to the side, like he’s not impressed.

“Really?” He wonders out loud, “Since that museum trip of yours, your head seems to be up in the clouds and as someone knowledgeable in the romance department,” He flutters his fingers like he’s throwing sparkles at you, “I’m starting to think otherwise.”

“That’s crazy!” You retorted in defence, “I can’t like Taehyung!”

“You can’t?” He says playfully, “That’s far from don’t.”

You hurriedly get up, collecting the notes you’ve written. “I-I need to get back to writing.”

The corners of Jin’s lips lift, since this is the first time he hasn’t had to ask you himself to work on your book.

***

He’s just assuming.

You think, hurriedly slipping into your chair. Tapping on your computer, you wait for the pitch black screen to light up.

There was no possible way. Taehyung was simply just helping you with your writer’s slump.

Blinking your eyes a couple of times, you attempt to shake away the lingering thoughts and bring yourself back into focus for this novel.

Only for your eyes to land right on your lit screen, the search you had begun popping in front of your face.

The curiosity is drawn out from you, and before you know it, you begin to scroll.

Majority of them fall within the same bracket of the research you were attempting to do in the beginning process of this book, with links advertising love advice and even counselling. A new link to a kdrama even pops up, something you have to will yourself to ignore.

Until one article crosses your eyes, one that has you more curious than ever.

Having difficulty in finding out if you’ve fallen in love? Find out here!

You frown, hovering over it for a split second. But then you shake your head, reciting to yourself that it was for the sake of writing the novel.

The articles flashes before you, paragraphs of information presented that you proceed to skim through.

“Falling in love is compared with the feeling of euphoria…”

You mumble under your breath, moving past it.

“....There is a semblance of love and trust…”

An idea for a climax ‒ you note ‒ that would tie in nicely with the finale of a romance book.

“...Rifts are commonly experienced…”

You have to create conflict somehow, maybe a difference in opinions.

“Usually the act of falling in love progresses within five steps𑁋“

Your nose crinkles, the corner of your lips twitching.

“There’s steps?” You mutter, body abruptly freezing. Drawing closer to your screen, your eyes slowly drift over the words.

“Stages are reached, each increasing with the notion of being in love. They are known as,”

Attraction.

Curiosity.

Attachment.

Denial.

Acceptance.

It’s a list.

Your genre can follow a list?

Tossingthe thought into the back of your mind, you eagerly continue, curiosity running haywire at this point.

“Attraction is the initial stage, symbolising the origin of interest and can be considered on physical guidelines.”

“Curiosity follows as second, with interest in the person only increasing as time passes by.”

“Attachment signifies the creation of a bond, the mind filled with new thoughts and changes.”

“Denial is the hesitance, acting against any forms of acceptance.”

“Acceptance. Welcoming the thought that you have fallen in love.”

Your mouth twists, each stage sounding more vague and philosophical as the one that came before it. The thought of digging out your ‘The Philosophy Behind Romance’ book from where it was discarded suddenly occurs, until you find yourself re-reading the stages a couple of times over again.

As you lean back into your chair, there’s a glint in your eyes.

Your biggest mistake was assuming you had the willpower to wave off the lingering thoughts, because they come pouring right back in before you can stop them.

If by any chance, he was right𑁋

The stages would have to be followed….

Right?

You cross your arms, skimming through the contents once again.

Attraction.

Did you find Taehyung attractive?

You recall first finding him underneath the glittering moonlight, his sleeping form residing on the bench and his artwork displayed just inches away from him. You can remember him stirring, his feline like eyes holding a strong gaze that almost made you lose your breath.

It’s the same gaze he holds while he’s painting, you pinpoint, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

You abruptly blink, shaking your head.

Curiosity.

To say you didn’t find Taehyung interesting, would have been a huge understatement.

He was different from you, but not in a way that you couldn’t understand. Instead, you found yourself a lot more alike than you had expected, his artistic lens meeting yours.

Attachment.

What even is that?

You can’t help but ponder, thinking at the most you were attached to your writing and books, having an avid imagination since you were young and always finding your footsteps gravitating towards the library. You would find yourself absolutely consumed with the different worlds, eventually leading you towards a career within it.

It was a bond in a way ‒ one that you would always have.

Your lips pursue, a hardened expression taking over.

Was it possible to have the same feeling with another person?

You let out a long sigh, eyes flickering over to the next stage.

Denial.

You freeze.

The hesitance, acting against any forms of acceptance.

The thought snaps into your head unannounced and soon you’re scrambling, attempting to get back to working on your book.

A low chuckle leaves you, tinged with nervousness.

“There’s no possible way…”

***

You stand awkwardly in front of the door, swaying between your two feet.

The home before you is small, looking only to being one-story high and consisting of old granite. There’s an exceptional amount of greenery near it, with a small garden at the side where you can notice subtle cherry tomatoes growing.

There was no telling how you could have best reacted when Taehyung had suddenly messaged you, asking if you would like to come over. You had accepted as always, but you didn’t realize what that exactly entailed until you were standing a mere couple of footsteps away from his door.

Looking down, you groan, wishing Jin had never said anything to you.

The sound of a lock turning has you abruptly on guard, the door yanking open before you can even collect yourself.

And it seems like Taehyung doesn’t give you that opportunity either.

He’s dressed in a casual tee and sweatpants, blonde hair falling to his eyes and a bit ruffled. It’s a stark contrast to constantly seeing him in his brown coat and beret, a casualness that feels too utterly unfamiliar for you.

“Hi.” He says in a low voice, greeting you with a warm smile.

For a moment, you could feel time stopping ‒ one simple thought occurring to you.

He really is beautiful.

Taehyung seems to notice your daze, brows furrowing for a moment.

“Y/N?”

“Uh, hi!” You squeak, probably too many octaves too high.

“Is everything okay?” He ponders and you aggressively shake your head, to which Taehyung stares at you peculiarly for, but ultimately decides to take your word for it.

“Come in.” He steps back in and leaves the door open for you, gesturing to you to follow. You carefully step forward, getting welcomed to the humble abode he calls his home.

The inside is spacious and ornate, the walls being painted with striking colours and light decorations littering the area. The interior seems to match the exterior in a way, appearing rustic but unique at the same time.

It’s cozy. And comforting.

“I apologize for it being messy.” Taehyung states from behind you, quickly picking up a couple of art books on the ground and moving them into a nearby shelf. “My two roommates left to go out of town, and I’ve been here by myself.”

“That’s okay.” You say right away, only to realize that also meant the two of you were alone in here.

He seems to read your mind as well, quickly continuing, “I brought you here for a reason, though I’m not too sure how you’ll take to it.”

You glance at him confused and he walks past you, heading towards one of the doors in the hallway.

Following behind him, he turns to face you. “You saw what my recent art pieces were like at the showcase, but I wanted to do something different for my next pieces. Something more abstract," He explains, eyes lighting up, “and something that’s a bit more fun.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls agape. Because before you is a completely empty room and in the center of it stands a giant blank canvas.

“What…?” You whisper in awe, walking towards it. Taehyung leans against the door frame, a huge grin on his face as he watches you.

You turn, “What is this?”

“I know you’ve been struggling with your novel,” He confesses, “and I thought we could paint this together. Give your creative mind a nice break.”

You’re still in disbelief and he struts up next to you, a playful tone in his voice you’ve never heard before. “Of course, I’ll give you credit for being part of my piece.”

A laugh escapes you, shaking your head at his antics.

Your eyes connect with his.

“Let’s do this.”

***

A wave of light orange splatters diagonally onto the white of the canvas.

You glance at it surprised, the bucket of paint still in your hands.

Taehyung chuckles, amused with your aim. “Not bad, Y/N.”

You smile, putting it down as Taehyung grabs a bright green one, putting all his force into it.

It splatters in the opposite direction, almost creating an ‘X’ shape.

He whistles at the sight and you dash over to the other buckets, kneeling down for another colour. Taehyung had luckily lent you his clothes for the occasion so as to not ruin your own, but as a result the clothes you adorned were a bit bigger in size, hanging off your frame.

You pick up a white in curiosity and Taehyung fondly watches as you quirk your head side to side, ultimately deciding to just go with it.

Chucking the colour against the canvas, the white creates a splatter right in the center. Taehyung hurriedly rushes over to you, a can of smaller paints in his hands with different colours. You chuckle at his eagerness and the way his hands are already stained with colour.

“Keep going,” He encourages, eyes brighter than you have ever seen, “It looks incredible.”

You nod enthusiastically, taking the smaller ones and splattering them across. They come out this time as blots and lines, giving more dimension to the base you and Taehyung first made.

After having used all your energy in attempting to add in more depth with the shapes and colours, Taehyung continues, following your streaks instead of disrupting them. He’s always had an exceptional visual eye, understanding perfectly on where to pick up where you left off, and it’s definitely another one of things you’ve adored about him.

Taehyung’s eyes are wide, a childish glint in them that you’re so happy to have been able to witness. But you don't know that it matches the same glint residing in your own eyes, mischievousness running through every fibre of your body when you pick up a small bucket of blue.

He turns and before he has the chance to say anything to you, a hue of azure blue covers half of his face.

He blinks in shock for a moment, hand coming up to swipe and realize that there was indeed paint on his face. However, his eyes flicker up to connect with yours and all he can see is you grinning from ear to ear.

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up a red that lands all over the front of your shirt and side of your ear.

From there, it’s like a chord’s snapped.

Colours are flying back and forth, from high to low volumes, and in the midst of all this, yours and Taehyung’s voice are running loud, laughs and giggles echoing around the room. As if two children are playing together rather than two adults simply trying to paint.

Taehyung matches your energy so well, attempting to create even more chaos when there’s orange landing directly on your hair after you skillfully managed to get a splatter of purple on his. It’s when the paint shoots out from your hair onto the canvas that an idea occurs to him, his blue covered hand slipping onto yours.

“Wait, Y/N!”

You freeze, staring at him puzzled. He takes your hand, leading you into the front of the canvas before backing away, gazing at you with intent.

The look in his eyes makes you fidget a bit, wishing he would hurriedly tell you what was on his mind.

He raises a hand, halting you in place. “Stay there. Just like that.”

To your surprise, he picks up a large volume of purple, standing right before you.

“Close your eyes, Y/N. Put your hands over them.”

His stance finally alerts you to his intentions, eyes squeezing shut and hands reaching over when you feel a wave of cold paint splash all over you. You wait for a moment as it all drips down, collecting into a pool of purple right below your feet.

Taehyung takes your hand, leading you away from the canvas and next to him as you blink, the piece of art showcasing itself to you.

There’s colours. Everywhere. All appearing between a mixture of random to extremely skillful. All coming from you and Taehyung. And right in the middle of the mix is you.

Your silhouette perfectly lined with a gorgeous shade of purple.

“It’s beautiful.” Taehyung breathes.

You are suddenly very glad there’s paint all over your face, unsure if you would be able to hide the burning expression over your features.

However, the burn abruptly increases, a stinging sensation coming from your face that wells tears.

“Ah.” You wince, rolling into yourself as your hand hovers over your eyes.

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s hands are cupping your face before you can say anything. “Y/N, look at me.”

You obey his instructions, facing him but keeping your eyes squeezed shut. His thumb pads hurriedly brush out the paint that has managed to drip near your eyes.

“Is it gone?” You urgently ask, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Give me one second.” Taehyung whispers, his hands disappearing for a moment before a cool cloth is pressed against your eyes.

You let out a sigh of relief and the cloth is promptly discarded, your eyes fluttering open.

A part of you wishes you kept them closed.

Taehyung’s face is just inches away from yours, and you can feel the low breaths he lets out.

It’s a fact he seems to realize in that instance himself as well, and there’s a silence that cuts through the air as you continue to stare into each other’s eyes.

Your heart pounds frantically within your chest. After what feels like an eternity, Taehyung moves first, attempting to close the gap but keeping his eyes trained on you. You don’t move for a second, kept frozen beneath his entire presence being so close to you.

It’s when his lips are hovering just above yours, you break the comforting silence.

“W-Where’s your shower?” You look away, grimacing at how broken your voice sounds.

Taehyung doesn’t respond at first, a flash of hurt crossing his features that you don’t see. But it quickly disappears and he clears his throat, separating from you.

“The first door on your left.”

“Thank you.” You quietly say, turning around immediately.

You stalk up to the door, halting when your hand meets the knob. Glancing back at Taehyung, he’s standing with his hands in his pockets, staring at the artwork you’ve just made together with a somber look in his eyes.

Your body stiffens and he glances back in your direction, a small smile on his lips that doesn’t seem to meet his eyes.

Turning to leave, it’s difficult to ignore the way your chest tightens.

***

Your shower was supposed to only be fifteen minutes, but it ends up feeling like a century.

The intent should be to get the copious amounts of paint out of your hair and skin, but as the steam clouds the air and the water drips down from your forehead onto the ground, your head remains planted against the shower wall, eyes squeezed shut.

It doesn’t help that there’s still a faint pool of purple swirling around your feet.

Stepping out of the shower, you open the door and peek outside, only to find your clothes folded on a small chair that’s been positioned right before the bathroom. Sheepishly reaching out, you discard the clothing Taehyung had given you and put your own back on.

You bump into Taehyung within seconds of exiting.

“Y/N.” His eyes meet with yours and you halt your steps. There’s unease brimming in his, but it’s something he doesn’t try to bring up.

“You’re leaving?” He ponders and you shake your head, completely confused on what to even say.

“Taehyung…” You begin, “I‒”

He raises his hand up, “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

It’s hard to not let the guilt show up on your face, but Taehyung leads you to the front door, opening it up for you.

“You helped me with creating a great piece of art.” He says optimistically, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“O-Of course.” You mumble, casting your head down.

Before you can step out, his hand finds your wrist.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispers, “And I wish you the best of luck with your book. If it’s you, I think it’s sure to come out amazing.”

His words always have a way of giving you a sense of comfort, your frustrations and conflicts with yourself melting away.

But you don’t expect what he says next, “If you ever need anything, anything at all,” The gaze in his eyes leaves you forgetting how to breathe, “I’m always here.”

It’s not until he lets go of you that you remember your intent to leave, slipping away slowly as he closes the door.

***

Jin doesn’t understand why you’re so intent on giving him a heart attack.

The door slams open and you suddenly emerge. But Jin doesn’t have time to retaliate about you freaking him out constantly or that you’ve been out all day and that you need to be making more progress with your book.

Instead, it looks like a piece of your soul’s been crushed.

“Y/N?” He loudly ponders, simply left just staring at you as you hurriedly kick your boots off.

“Jin!” You exclaim, seemingly breathless.

“Did you run here or something?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his words. You simply hand him your coat, heading into your room.

“Where’s my computer?” You question, glancing at him wildly. He’s taken back a bit, but he answers your question.

“There was an electrical issue that needed to be fixed so I temporarily moved it.” He points down the hall, “It’s in the spare room with all the hard copies.”

“Good.” You exhale, dashing over.

“Wait, Y/N‒” He isn’t able to get a word in, the door closing with a loud thud.

There’s a plethora of questions at the tip of his tongue, ranging from why it took you so long to what could have possibly happened, but Jin isn’t able to ponder for long when he suddenly hears the frantic typing of your keyboard.

***

Twenty-four hours.

Jin crosses his arms, standing in front of the room that you have yet to emerge from since the past twenty-four hours. He didn’t say much after you had barged in yesterday and confined yourself inside, simply locking up for the day and leaving some takeout on the table outside in case you got hungry.

And that was all due to the look in your eyes.

It’s a look he’s seen before, on days where you’ve been engrossed in your writing, too occupied with your own racing mind to halt your actions. However, this time he notices a sense of urgency that wasn’t there before.

Which is why when you do finally emerge, he can’t believe what you’re waving in front of his eyes.

“Here you go.” You say, handing him the USB in your hands, “It’s all done, the entire novel.”

“Y/N.” He says astonished, staring at you in pure awe, “How did you manage to write it all?”

You laugh at that and Jin is a little unnerved, wondering how on earth you didn’t look crazy after staying in that one room for so long and just simply typing.

“I think I’ll always be a hermit to some degree.” You toss your coat over your shoulders, reaching down for your shoes.

“Where are you going?” He questions, watching as you finish putting on your boots.

You smile, “I have to go find someone.”

Jin’s eyes widen and without saying another word, you turn to head towards the door.

He scoffs underneath his breath once you leave.

“I knew it.”

***

Taehyung isn’t picking up your calls.

You hurriedly dial the number again on your phone, hearing the familiar ringing over and over until you’re sent to voicemail.

Once the other end beeps, you mumble underneath your breath.

“Taehyung, call me please.”

After leaving the message, you slide your phone into your coat pocket, glancing at the destination you hurried towards.

The home is still there, appearing exactly how you had just left it two days ago.

You frantically knock against the door.

Surely it opens, but to reveal someone else entirely.

“Oh.” You mutter, your expression of relief morphing into awkward surprise. The man standing before you looks equally confused, surveying your face.

“You are…?” He squints, like he’s attempting to place a name to your face.

You answer right away, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N?” He repeats, eyes sparkling. “Really? Wow, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

A nervous laugh escapes you, “And you are…?”

“Oh, sorry.” He sheepishly smiles, reaching out his hand. “My name is Jimin, I’m one of Taehyung’s roommates.”

You nod in recognition, “Are you looking for Taehyung?”

“Yes!” You suddenly exclaim, “Do you know where he is?”

“I just got back in last night.” He says with a grimace, “But Taehyung wasn’t here, the last I heard he was preparing for his next showcase.”

Your eyes widen.

“Thank you, Jimin! I’ll be on my way now!” He waves you goodbye and you spin on your heels, knowing exactly where you needed to be.

***

The art museum looks exactly the same, pieces on for display and spectators walking from room to room, inspecting each one.

However, each exhibit represents a multitude of different artists, none consisting of the one you’re searching for.

“Excuse me.”

You poke a lady that’s wearing a gallery uniform, expectantly looking at her.

“Where is Taehyung’s‒” You bite your tongue, “Sorry, V’s exhibit?”

“Ah, I’m afraid we’re in the midst of clearing up for his next one.” She says with remorse, “There are some of his pieces still left over there if you’d like to view them.”

“I see…” Your shoulders slump in defeat, but you do thank her for helping you out. Heading towards the direction she pointed out, you find the paintings from the last time you had visited the museum.

The corners of your lips curl up. You recall being here, attempting to find the peculiar man after seeing him underneath the starry sky without knowing much about how close you would grow to be.

You come across the same painting, remembering how easily his ability to capture expansive sceneries was. But that��s when you see one of his new pieces, a soft gasp escaping you.

It’s the painting you created together, fully displayed in all its glory.

But it’s not the only one.

There’s a set of three different canvases, all with artworks of you.

One of them is the same painting of the night sky you saw before, but the sky is painted with a deep purple now, the same colour that was outlined with your silhouette. The moon is completely full, stars scattered around that are brighter with a hue of white. You don’t fall to notice that there’s also a bench added at the bottom.

Another one of them is a splatter of photographs, photographs you didn’t even know he took of you. There’s images from the river side, pictures coming from the marketplace, and in all of them he’s managed to capture the spark in your eyes.

The last one has you frozen.

It’s a portrait, but not just a portrait of you.

It’s a portrait of you reading.

The image is uncanny, the light hitting your side profile at a lovely angle, the book in your hands being carefully held, the excitement in your eyes even brighter than the photographs.

Your brows furrow, wondering when Taehyung could have gotten such an image of you. But then you realize he doesn’t ‒ that he’s created the image through himself.

That’s when your eyes have the instant to flicker down, breath hitching once you discover what he’s named all three pieces.

My Muse.

By Kim ‘V’ Taehyung.

Everything stops, and all you’re left being able to do is to simply stare.

“I’m assuming I can’t keep this a surprise anymore.”

You whirl around at the speed of light, recognizing that deep tone from anywhere.

Taehyung stands before you, a soft smile on his lips.

“It’s incredible.” You whisper, “How did you…?”

“I was working on it for a while.” He steps next to you, pointing to the first, “That one was made a few nights after I met you.” He points to the second, “That one was after we had spent time together.” He points to the last, “And that one I made last night, after finishing reading one of your books.”

You stare at the portrait, observing that the book that you’re reading is indeed one of your own.

He read the one where a man turns into a fish.

“You read it?” Disbelief is laced in your voice, mixed with an odd sense of pride.

“Of course, I’ve been wanting to read one of your books since I met you.” He explains, scratching the back of his head. “You saw my art, but I never got a chance to see yours.”

You’re simply at a loss of words. You ‒ the person that had a remark for anything and was able to write countless words at bullet speed, had no more to say.

Taehyung stares at the ground, chewing down on his bottom lip.

“Has your novel writing been going okay?” He blurts, attempting to draw the attention away from his art.

That snaps you out of it. “Uh yeah, I actually finished it.”

“You did?” His head snaps up in astonishment, “Congrats.”

You warmly smile, “Thanks.”

After a moment of silence, he clears his throat, “Listen Y/N, I’m really sorry for not expressing it sooner.” He gestures to his art pieces, “I’m not the best with explaining my feelings, so it's easier for me to integrate it somehow into my‒”

You cut him off mid-sentence, your lips meeting his. The surprise spreads over his face instantaneously, but it doesn’t take Taehyung long to reciprocate, moving his lips against yours.

You separate from him and he blinks, as if caught up in a daze.

“You never asked me what my book was about.” You breathe out.

His brows furrow, “What was it about?”

You grin mischievously, “It’s about a writer and a painter falling in love.”

Taehyung seems to be at a loss for words now, gazing at you in pure surprise.

“Really?” He asks, and you cheerfully nod.

“Yup.” You find his hands, interlacing them with yours.

“I’m really sorry.” Remorse enters your eyes. “Romance has truthfully, never really been my genre.”

Taehyung lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Maybe we can see if that changes.”

There’s a giant smile on your lips that he matches with his own.

Tightening his warm hold on your hand, the pair of you walk away together from the exhibit.

You laugh to yourself.

Maybe romance as a genre wasn’t so bad after all.

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