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ravenforce · 4 years

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Stark Legacy II

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Wanda Maximoff x Maria Hill x Reader

Word Count: 2983

A/N: Stay at home and read fanfiction. You’re literally saving lives by staying home, guys. Please, and wash your hands. Sanitize. Take your vitamins. Eat well. If you’re quarantined on your own, you’re alone and you’re feeling lonely, my ask box and my inbox are open, just pop in and give me some time to get back to you. We will get through this difficult time. xx

Parts: 1 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

“But it is,” you continued. “Wanda can prove it.”

***

Everyone turned to the young witch as she continues to just stare at you.

“I…” She started to say. Her eyebrows knitting in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You smiled at her. It has been more than five years after all. “Dig deep, Wanda Maximoff,” you whispered with a ghost of a smile on your face. Wanda’s look of confusion turned into one of focus as she searches her mind for the answer. It took a couple of tensed silence before Wanda started shaking, along with the facility.

Nat, Carol, and Maria looked at their girlfriend as her eyes and hands started to glow. “Wanda,” Carol who was standing nearer to the witch said. Maria, Bruce, and Bucky (who just emerged from the back room of the lab) started ushering everyone out of the facility. Happy tried to tag you out too but you were rooted on the ground as Wanda quite literally go down memory lane.

“Y/N, please. We have to go,” Happy pleaded nervously.

“It’s okay, Haps. Wanda’s in control.”

“Wands,” Maria whispered calmly in front of her girlfriend as she caressed her face. “Come back to me, Maximoff.”

Wanda gasped forcefully that she stumbled into Maria’s arms, while Carol supported their weight.

“You’re alright,” Carol assured, stroking Wanda’s hair.

Nat scavenged water out of a mini-fridge in Tony’s office. She came over and handed it to Wanda. “What happened?” she asked worriedly

Wanda drunk the pro-offered water before looking up and looking straight to your Y/E/C eyes. Then she looked at the people around her and the facility.

“We should go,” Wanda suggested. “I’ll explain later.”

Everyone agreed and started filing out one-by-one. Maria ushered you towards one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s standard black tinted Ford Explorer. Happy jumped into the driver’s seat.

“For a secret organization, you do know this car screams exactly that, right?” you asked as you try to find a comfortable position to sit in. Not that you can feel any stiffness with your new mechanical body.

Bruce and Bucky chuckled. Happy glanced at you through the rear-view mirror. “I’m sorry your majesty but I don’t have the keys to your Evora or your Corvette,” he teased.

You gasped exaggeratedly as Happy pull out of the parking lot. “Not those two but you could have stolen Anthony’s Audi Q7,” you said while looking out of the window. You sighed. “Ask Romanoff, she knows how to roll.”

Maria who was just listening in let out a melodious laugh.

***

It took at least two hours before your convoy started rolling through the gates of S.H.I.E.L.D with Natasha’s Rubicon on the lead. A downside to being not fully human now is that you can’t partake on sleeping on a road trip. You have only been awake for at least a week, in which Maria used that time to repair the damages done by nature to your shell while you’re sleeping alone for more than five years in that dark, mouldy cavern facility. So you don’t know how to boot yourself on and off just yet.

“Happy,” Pepper called out. She got his SOS, so she came as fast as she could using one of Tony’s jet.

You looked at your sister-in-law behind the tinted window of the car. She looked exactly the way you remembered her, maybe a little tired around the eyes but that is to be expected since you assume Tony left Stark Industries in her capable hands. Happy smiled while hugging the woman. You can hear Natasha ordering everyone inside. Wanda walking ahead like she about to combust by withholding information.

“Hey,” Bucky, who stayed behind for you, greet after opening the car door. It’s been too long since you’ve stepped into this building, and it looks different. It looks new, maybe it is. You’ll find out later when you download information about the past five years into your database. “Ready?”

You smiled at him gratefully before nodding and following everyone inside.

***

“You guys are making me nervous,” Pepper said.

There is tension, questions, and confusion in the air; she can smell it. She was about to ask everyone what the heck is happening when the door to the conference room opened. Bucky walked in first and closely followed by none other than you. Pepper nearly fell off her chair if not for Happy supporting her.

“What is happening here?” Pepper asked, voice rising from both confusion and anger. “Who is this? Is this some kind of a joke?”

Maria explained everything that she knows. “This can’t be true,” Pepper whispered quietly.

“But it is,” Wanda echoed the same statement you told Natasha a couple of hours before. Everyone turned their attention to her.

“How?” Natasha asked. “How is it possible? And how are you connected to all of this?”

Wanda looked at you, and you nodded at her.

“After the first snap, you and Tony were in an accident,” Wanda started looking at Pepper.

“We were.”

****

After the first snap, Tony secluded himself with Pepper at the lake house. Shortly after, she got pregnant with Morgan. Tony called you, and after setting your affairs straight in Switzerland you came home. You stayed with them the whole time. One day, Tony bored out of his wits and tired of being the designated cook all the time, told everyone that you all will be driving to the next town for some greasy food. Tired of Tony’s home cook meals, you and Pepper agreed without question.

It was a great night out. The air was crisp, the moon was out. The three of you were happy, or at the least trying to be with what is left of the destruction and for what is to come. Then a truck came out of nowhere, propelling Tony’s sports car out of the freeway. It was like what they do in the movies when something tragic is about to happen, everything was in slow motion. You can see everything, and in one last ditched effort to save the future of the Stark, you unlocked your seat belt and protected Pepper from the blast.

“She was sputtering blood,” Pepper said with a faraway look in her eyes. “She said…”

“Live, Pepper Potts.” You finished for her. Pepper gasped and looked at you with wide-eyes.

You held on as long as you could until medics pulled the three of you out of the car. Your vision was getting darker and darker but you didn’t allow it to swallow you until you heard one medic yell that the pregnant woman is alive and her baby has a heartbeat. Another medic yelled that Tony’s breathing too, and then nothing else mattered anymore. The three most important people in your life are alive, and you were so tired.

You closed your eyes. Tony became reclusive after you became comatose. If he wasn’t taking care of Pepper, he was always in his lab. Pepper knew he was up to something but she was getting close to giving birth that she didn’t have the energy to question him, especially if it’ll just end up with them fighting.

Then Morgan came. Tony knew that he couldn’t pursue his experiment anymore. He has a daughter now, someone he needs to focus on. In a last, desperate attempt he called Wanda.

“What is he working on?” Bucky muttered. “I would understand if he called Bruce if he needed scientific help. No offence, Wanda.”

“It wasn’t what he needed,” Wanda sighed.

***

“A what?” Wanda asked surprised.

She came as fast as she could when she received a text from Tony. The guy rarely needed any help. If he ever did, he would rather struggle silently, and work tirelessly before asking anyone else to give him a hand.

“I tried everything but she really wouldn’t wake up.” Tony banged his hands on the table. “They said I should let her go.”

“Maybe you should,” Vision said, standing beside him. Tony shook his head with an eerie smile on his tired face.

“I can’t. If the tables were turned, I know she wouldn’t let me go. Not like this.”

“You said you’ve tried everything,” Wanda asked softly. She can understand the burden of having to potentially lose your only sibling. “What can I do?”

“I tried every proven scientific method, yes but I haven’t really done everything yet.” Tony dropped a huge old book in the table. Wanda and Vision came over after the dust settled in. Alchemy, the book cover read.

“Tony,” Wanda whispered. He must really be desperate to turn to this.

“I search to the edge of the earth for this,” Tony said while holding a huge chunk of red stone.

“That can’t be.”

“Oh yes it is, and I spent a shit load of money for it. So please, Wanda, help me.” Wanda’s heart ached for the man. In the time they have worked together, she has grown to love him like another annoying brother.

“This experiment has a low probability of success,” Vision stated in front of the glass enclosure full of liquid where you’re body is currently submerged. Tony clenched his fist on the table. He knows that. Of course, he knows that but desperate times calls for desperate measures. He’s willing to turn to something he doesn’t believe in if it means he can get another chance to see you open your eyes again.

“I know but I need to try one last time,” he said brokenly.

***

“What did you do?” Carol asked. Wanda shuffled her hands together.

“She performed a soul transfer ritual,” you answered to help the girl out.

“It didn’t work,” Wanda countered. “After the ritual, nothing happened. You didn’t open your eyes, Tony was heartbroken.”

You sighed as you watch Wanda look so stricken. “You did everything right, Wanda but something was amiss then. It wasn’t your fault.”

The woman in question looked at you through wet eyelashes. “Thank you, you saved me,” you said with a smile.

“So, what’s special about a week ago?” Bruce asked. He genuinely wonders what could have woken you after being dormant for years.

“It’s Tony’s first death anniversary,” Happy whispered before averting his eyes. You looked at him though. You can count on the man to keep your brother’s memories alive. Sure they don’t always see eye-to-eye then, they both like to annoy each other whenever they can but you know that they’re friends. You know that they loved each other, and you love Happy for that.

“You’re right,” Maria said. “It was raining heavily a week ago. There were thunder and lightning.”

“Lightning,” Bruce chewed on his lower lip.

“When I was checking the perimeter, I saw that the generator was struck by lightning,” Bucky added.

“Lightning,” Bruce muttered again like a tape on loop. He looks like he’s trying to recall something. It felt familiar but he just can’t quite put the pieces together. It took a minute before Bruce pushed away from the wall he was leaning on.

“Lightning! Wanda! It’s the lightning,” he yelled, startling everybody. It was a eureka moment for it. He understood then why it was so familiar. Pepper begged him to just be out with it. Bruce started laughing hysterically.

He feels utterly stupid for taking too much time to figure it out. Wanda stood abruptly too. She remembers now. She remembers how Thor used his hammer, and the lightning breathed life into Vision.

“This is insane,” Natasha said frowning. You anticipated the reaction though. You know any thinking, logical human being wouldn’t be able to swallow the truth that easily.

“Okay. Asked me something only you and I would know. You can shut me down immediately if I answer incorrectly.”

Natasha cocked an eyebrow. She thinks that you’re either telling the truth or a confident liar. She’ll just have to find out

“Alright. When was the last time we saw each other?”

“Moscow, 2020.”

Natasha didn’t say anything, prompting you to keep talking.

“I was representing Stark Industries in a tech conference there. Your mission got sideways and needed help getting home. S.H.I.E.L.D can’t pick you up because of the treaty. So, Tony called to ask me to pick you up from a safe house and get you home.”

“Is that why she doesn’t talk about Moscow?” Carol whispered to Maria. Natasha clearly heard it though and quickly shoot her girlfriends a glare. You chuckled after catching the little interaction.

“Crossing borders on my own was a breeze but with you, on my passenger seat, it was harder. It didn’t help that you had a habit on scowling at the police.”

The room burst out laughing for a second before they see the infamous scowl directed at everyone.

“We had to pretend that we’re on our honeymoon and just getting back in the city to catch our flight back home. Should I continue?”

“No, that’s quite enough.” Natasha, amidst herself, started to turn a slight shade of pink. Maria, Carol, and Wanda can see it. The redhead is blushing.

“No, continue. We want to hear the rest of it,” Maria said a little loudly. Carol nodded her head animatedly. You looked at the redhead.

“Is it embarrassing? If that’s the case, please, continue,” Bruce said, his voice teasing. Natasha glared at him again but this time he wasn’t having it. He wants to know the rest of the story since if he remembered it correctly, Natasha came home from said mission unharmed but she still won’t speak about it.

“We had to cross two borders from the safehouse. The first border, we crossed without a hitch. The second was tighter. We can see they don’t buy our story. So little Miss Sunshine kissed me in front of the police.”

The room fell silent. If looks could kill, you’re sure you’d have dropped dead a minute ago by the number of scowls and glares Natasha’s directing at you. “I’m pretty sure there was tongue involved,” you teased one last time.

Nat turned beet read and groaned. “Okay, fuck! I believe you,” she said with gritted teeth.

You grinned at her. The tension was alleviated when Carol and Maria started laughing like a maniac. Wanda gave her a you’ll-have-to-tell us-everything-later look.

When everyone settled down, Pepper asked you a question too that was easy enough to answer.

“It’s really you,” Pepper said after crossing the length of the room to stand in front of you.

She cupped your cheeks using both of her hands. She started tearing up when she saw how Tony probably spent a lot of time figuring out the plans, and the materials to use to give you the best shell possible. He made the shell itself ball-jointed, allowing you to move more fluidly than any other robots in existence yet. It also allows you to easily rip a part of it for repair in case of damage or degeneration.

She can’t see everything yet but she can guess that your shell is just a tip of the iceberg. There are more to this suit than meets the eye.

“Hey, P.” You pulled Pepper in a hug. There’s still a hint of disbelief in everyone’s faces but that’s a problem for another day. Right then, you’re happy. You could be happier if you woke up in a world where your brother is still alive but you’d have to take what you can get. Your brother died saving the world, you’re not gonna use the chance he gave you by moping. You have a family to protect, you have a company to get back to, and a life to live.

“Welcome home, Agent Stark,” Fury said from the doorway, startling everybody. You smiled at the man. You’ve never joined S.H.I.E.L.D or the Avengers officially. You think they can’t really handle two Starks but the man never called you anything else but that.

#natasha romanoff x reader #carol danvers x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #maria hill x reader #natasha romanoff x carol danvers x wanda maximoff x maria hill x reader #unholy trinity x reader #unholy pentagon #avengers imagine

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 5 years

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You’ve Got Mail: Jungkook One Shot

Request: Hi! I really love your writings! If your requests are still open, can you pls write a Jungkook story? Ex-lovers in high school where he broke up with her because he got bored or something like that. Then they met again in university and wants her back again. (Angst but happy ending pls). Thank you!

Description: After a messy breakup with high school heartthrob Jeon Jungkook, you swore off dating once you got into college. Even though it left you lonely, it was easier than being hurt. But one fateful blind date changes everything for you, and you realize that maybe isolation isn’t the answer either.

Word Count: 12.9k

Pairing: Jungkook x (gender neutral) Reader

Tags: Barista!Reader, Graphic Design Student!Jungkook, Non-Idol!Au, Ex-Lovers to Enemies to Lovers (? I guess? Haha)

Genre: Whole lotta angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: None!

A/N: It’s been two weeks since I’ve posted wtf!! But I’m back and less than a week away from the Rose Bowl concert, holy cow. This ask has been in my inbox for MONTHS, so I need to say thank you to the anon who sent it for waiting so long! I really enjoyed this request, so I hope you guys like it too!

Also, if you want to follow me on Twitter please do so! My handle is @/plzpunchmebts. I would post a link, but rumor has it Tumblr killed links and I’m not taking any chances. I’ll be posting concert videos and pics there, so please give it a follow if you’d like to see that!

- Mercury

You were never too keen on blind dates. Everything about them felt…artificial. It wasn’t that you were a romantic, not especially, but you had to admit that being forced on a date by meddlesome friends took some of the magic out of dating. When Sua had mentioned a cute new boy in her class who was too busy studying to date, you had to admit the red flags began waving in your mind. Of course, you could relate. College was taxing and it was difficult to find time to even eat three meals, let alone date. Perhaps if things had cropped up organically, you’d have been more excited. But the forced union was a little cumbersome.

The nerves and the insecurity and the fear, none of it was especially fun. But Sua had been adamant that the two of you would hit it off, and with her eyes round and expectant, her brows raised, and her lips pouted, you really didn’t have any room to deny her. You figured one night of discomfort was better than months of guilt, and even though you figured things wouldn’t work out with this mystery man, you’d humor your friend. After all, making friends in college wasn’t easy.

Making friends in general wasn’t easy.

You sighed as you waited with your chilly hands clasped around your phone, standing at the entrance to the subway station where Sua had instructed. The mouth of the entrance was muggy with exiting passengers as the wave of people clambered up the steep stairs and onto the street, lined on all sides by buildings that reached the sky. Every now and again, someone would graze their shoulder against yours without apology, or perhaps step on the toe of your sneaker. You took a few inching steps backward, glancing over your shoulder to be sure you wouldn’t hit anyone. Not that they’d care. You backed up until you were out of the streamline and instead took up a quieter spot beside a fish cake vendor.

You checked your phone once again, furrowing your brow. Sue said eleven, didn’t she? You pulled up your messages and scrolled through carefully, head tilted to the side as you read her most recent text.

Sua: He said he’s running a little late, but he told me to tell you to wait.

You: I am waiting…

Sua: He says he’s sorry and that the subway is close to the terminal now.

You: That’s good.

Sua: He says sorry again.

Sua: You know, this is kinda dumb. Let me just give you his number so you can text him.

Sua: 51-XXX-XX24

You pursed your lips and crossed your arms over your chest. Sua was right, anyway. Making her your proxy wouldn’t really do you much good, considering she wasn’t here to help you in person. But wouldn’t it be a bit forward to just…text this guy? You didn’t know him yet. And besides, what could you say that Sua hadn’t? Hey, I’m doing this out of obligation, sorry to disappoint! or you can just go back home now and we can tell Sua things didn’t work out. You shook your head and rubbed your fingertip along the screen of your phone, working your lower lip between your teeth. You were just looking for an out. And really, you didn’t want to bail after Sua had gone through the trouble of setting things up. Still, just texting a stranger was a little…

But then again, he’d agreed to the blind date too, hadn’t he? It wasn’t like you were someone he was forced to talk to. He’d come on his own accord. Rubbing your bare forearm in the spring breeze with one hand, you used the other to tap the phone number and save it and, with only your index finger, drafted a slow message.

You: Hey, I’m Sua’s friend. I think we’re supposed to have a blind date today? Haha. That sounded kind of awkward…

Within seconds, your phone dinged with an incoming text and you jumped, nervous, before glancing at your phone once more.

Blind Date: Oh! Haha, hello. It wasn’t awkward at all. Ahh, I’m really sorry I’m late. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I bumped into a cyclist and he gave me an earful so I missed the first subway.

Blind Date: But I’m one stop away! You’re outside exit 2 right?

You: Yeah! I’m next to a fish cake stall. I’m wearing a red blouse, so you can’t miss me :-)

Damn, you thought, was that smiley face too much? You picked at the skin around your nail and glanced up to see the near-constant flow of people was still in full force, the subway exit spitting pedestrians onto the cement sidewalk in droves. You squinted a little, trying to keep a good visual on the staircase leading out. With a sigh, you leaned over your bag to slip your phone inside when it buzzed again. Despite yourself, your heart raced and you eagerly unlocked it to see if he’d responded.

Blind Date: Cute! Let’s get some fish cakes then before we go to the movie.

Blind Date: Ah, subway just pulled in! I’m only a few sweaty staircases away now~

Blind Date: :P

Without meaning to, you smiled a little. Your nerves settled as you leaned on your right foot, grinning softly at your screen. He seemed like a good guy, at least. You were relieved. After the jerks you dated in high school, you’d sworn off dating for a while. Maybe trying to cleanse your palate. It was…oddly refreshing to be talking to someone who didn’t make you feel like you weren’t all that important. Like you were disposable.

Still smiling, you responded with a simple text.

You: I’m excited to meet you :-D

“Y/N?” asked a familiar voice from beside you.

A voice that sent chills up your spine, and not the good kind.

You stiffened and turned, eyes wide, toward the one person you’d been hoping fervently to avoid for life. Standing with his big, brown eyes wide and his hair slightly windswept, Jeon Jungkook stared down at you like you were a ghost. Your lips parted and, heart hammering, you opened and closed your jaw a few times. What were you supposed to say to the boy who broke your heart when you were sixteen?

Years later and he was still the heartthrob he’d been back then, only now he looked…like a man. His cheekbones were prominent, strong jaw, heavy brow and a serious, toned build like he’d lived at the gym in the years between your meetings.

You swallowed hard and slipped your phone in your bag, crossing your arms and thus closing yourself to him. You glanced up at him with a furrowed brow. “Jungkook,” you said with a sigh. “I’m actually waiting here for someone and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, so if you could-,”

“You’re on a blind date?” asked Jungkook, lips agape.

You shrugged, glancing down the sidewalk toward the open maw of the subway exit, squinting in the hopes of catching your date’s attention. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Wait, but-,”

You sighed and shut him up with a single look his way, sharp, venomous. “I’m gonna to wait someplace else if you’re gonna keep standing beside me.”

“No, it’s not-,”

You huffed and shuffled into the crowd once more, walking purposefully away from him, but Jungkook was hot on your tail and wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Every few paces, you’d glance over your shoulder and see him following you feverishly, angling himself through the narrow spaces between bodies. But you kept going, pushing through, until you were blocks away from the subway station and Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

You exhaled long and slow, patting your chest to calm down, and veered off toward the shops on your right, taking cover beneath an awning. Something in your bag vibrated and you jumped. Shit. Your date. The spring day sun was warm on your hands as you fumbled with your bag, grabbing your phone once again.

Blind Date: Where did you go??

You gripped your nose bridge and exhaled through your nose. Of course he’d be confused. You were lucky he was nice enough to reach out at all after seeing you weren’t where you said you’d be. You typed your reply quickly, desperate not to hurt his feelings.

You: God, I’m SO sorry. I ran into someone…from a long time ago lol. I couldn’t shake him off, so I ended up down the street a few blocks. By a Burger King.

You: I’m making a really bad impression, huh? I’m sorry. Just…he’s the LAST person I wanted to see today, you know?

You: Or…well, ever haha.

You awaited a response with bated breath, brows knit, and chewed on the inside of your cheek. This blind date was a wild card, really. Since you didn’t know him yet, you didn’t know how he’d respond. And it wouldn’t be his fault if he decided you weren’t worth all the hassle. Honestly, you might’ve been a little relieved if that was the case. Running into Jungkook…it made you remember why you avoided dating.

But despite your expectations, your phone buzzed again and you jumped to grab it.

Blind Date: This person…you really didn’t want to see him?

You: No. It’s just a painful reminder of the past.

You: !!! God, I keep saying awkward things !!! Haha, please forget I said anything. Where are you?

Blind Date: No! It’s not awkward at all. I’m just…

Blind Date: I’m sorry you had to see him then, I guess.

You: Jeez…

You: You’re a really nice guy, aren’t you?

Blind Date: Haha! I don’t know about that…

Blind Date: How about we reschedule for another time? I get the feeling you wouldn’t really be up for a movie right now anyway.

You panicked, heart kicking up. Despite everything you told yourself, you were a little bit happy he was being so understanding. And even though you were scared, you wanted to see if…well…if maybe this guy might be different.

You shook your head. Of course you shouldn’t think that way. Putting your heart out there to be toyed with and thrown aside…you didn’t want to go through it. Not really. And what relationship could be worth all that? You sucked in your breath and typed a quick response, ready to cast Jungkook and this blind date into the banks of your memory to gather dust. Even if this guy did seem sweet…

So had Jungkook, at first.

You: Yeah. That’s probably for the best. I work at that coffeeshop on campus, so I’ll shoot you a text once I get my schedule. :-)

You: I’m sorry for all the trouble today. Seriously.

You sighed and turned on your heel toward the street. If you kept on this sidewalk for a few more blocks, you’d find exit 3. And from there, it was only a 20-minute subway ride home whereupon you could finally collapse on your couch and wait for this cursed weekend to be over.

But before you could take a single step, a text came.

Blind Date: It was no trouble. :D I just feel bad that you had an unpleasant experience…

You: Hey, it’s not your fault haha.

You: Oh yeah! I never gave you my name, did I?

Blind Date: No, actually. Haha.

You: It’s Y/N.

Blind Date: It’s nice to meet you again, Y/N.

Blind Date: You can call me Nochu.

You: … Nochu … ?

Blind Date: Haha, it’s weird huh?

Blind Date: It’s a nickname I prefer.

You: Ah! I see. I’ll call you that then.

You: Nochu.

Blind Date: Y/N :-)

You stood and placed your hands on your lower back and stretched, groaning, a week later. Classes had been dragging lately and with several coworkers sick with a cold, you were one of the only employees left who wasn’t too ill to work. Your body felt like it was slowly failing you. Even your feet were sore from constantly running from place to place. And the quiet coffee shop before you made you feel like taking a long and well-needed nap. Mismatched chairs and bistro tables littered the trendy place and students congregated around the windows or the fireplace or the used bookshelf. Nobody really bothered you except to order or ask for to-go coffee sleeves. Mostly, you just stood there. For hours. Watching everything and nothing at once.

But today the energy was a little different. You’d heard from Sua that the graphic design students were approaching an important deadline, and from the looks of the crowd it seemed that deadline was heavy on everyone’s minds. Laptops and drawing tablets and plenty of coffee littered the tables as students chatted in small groups, none of them looking all too happy. You wondered what the project was, but didn’t want to bother Sua with a useless question. So instead, you just watched over customer’s shoulders as they added thick white lines to separate sections of illustrations or grabbed whole images with slender styluses and slid them to new spaces.

“Excuse me?”

You jumped and turned to the queue which up until moments ago had been completely empty. You made sure to manage your expression with a tight smile and bowed your head. “Sorry,” you said quietly, lifting your eyes to meet the customer.

And, to your shock and horror, you saw a familiar face amongst the group of thee college-aged boys. Jeon Jungkook stood in the middle, a half-pace behind the guy who had roused your attention, and if his expression was anything to go by, he was just as horrified to see you as you were to see him. You felt your back go perfectly straight, eyes wide and lips parted through which only shallow exhales escaped. Your palms grew sweaty and your heart thump-thumped to an uneven cadence.

“Um, what can I make for you?” you asked finally, managing a tight smile at the speaker of the group whose attention was affixed to the sign above your head, reading the menu with squinted eyes. “If you need more time…,” you hedged, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze which you felt burning circles into your face.

“Ah, no I’ve got it,” said the first guy with a polite smile your way. “I’ll have a green tea latte.”

You nodded and wrote it down on your notepad, just to keep things straight. Had your coworkers been stronger in their constitution, you’d have given the order to one of them to get started on. Perhaps you’d even get started yourself and leave the cashiering to them. But alas, you were alone and painfully aware of it.

“Will you be paying separately or together?” you asked, a tinge of hope in your voice. Please say together, please say together, please say together, you thought over and over, like an endless mantra.

The first boy chuckled and gave Jungkook’s shoulder a firm punch. “Like I’ll pay for these good-for-nothings,” he joked before returning his attention to you, smiling. He had a kind smile, but even that did little to ease your anxieties. You simply nodded and took his card as he stretched it out toward you.

The second guy approached, another brown-haired college kid with a polite grin and baggy spring clothes, and hummed. “I’ll do the caramel macchiato,” he said with a nod, fingers still clasping his chin as he scanned the menu and you scribbled his order. “Ah!” he said, pointing at you. You jumped, still on edge with adrenaline coursing through you, but quickly settled with a smile. “And a slice of banana bread.”

“Banana bread,” you mumbled to yourself as you wrote it. “Okay.”

The second handed you a credit card which you swiped quickly, eager to get this whole encounter over with. He took it back with a bow and a smile which you struggled to return because the moment you glanced over his shoulder you caught Jungkook’s gaze, intense, warm browns peering at you like you held answers he’d been searching for. Despite yourself, you blushed and glanced back toward your notepad.

Finally, the moment of reckoning arrived and your nerves made your hands a little shaky as they clasped the pen and paper. Your eyes wavered around the space between your own hands, measuring the empty air, desperate not to look at Jungkook again.

“Um…,” he mumbled, voice a low rumble in his chest. You almost wanted to squeeze your eyes shut altogether, even though you knew how dumb that’d make you look. “Can I get a strawberry smoothie?”

You almost laughed. It was so like him to come to a coffeeshop and order something like that. It was so like him to still have a weak palate when it came to bitter things. It was so like him to chase after you that day, to show up here on coincidence. It was so like him to be exactly who you remembered him to be. Exactly who he was back then.

Slowly, once you’d written his order down, you lifted your eyes and looked at him properly at last. He was dressed well, casual as you expected, all black as you expected, handsome as you expected. His hair was half-styled out of his eyes, and those eyes were the problem really. Dark and depthless, staring down at you with furrowed brow, jaw clenched. If anyone had doubts you two knew each other before, they’d certainly know now with the way he was watching you. The way he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for even a second.

“That’s all?” you asked.

“Um…yeah,” he responded, blinking at you like he had more to say.

By then, his friends had begun setting up camp amongst the mismatched sofas and recliners, setting up their computers. You caught sight of a drawing tablet as its corner poked out the top of the first boy’s backpack. So they were design majors too? Maybe your blind date had met one of these guys, then. But wait. If his friends were, did that mean…

“You’re a design major?” you asked, unable to stop yourself.

But once you said it, you wished to suck the words back inside like tapioca balls through a straw because across Jungkook’s face flashed a brief glimmer of excitement, eyes wide, mouth already open and poised to respond.

“Yeah!” he said, smiling a little. “I…uh, well you remember how I liked to draw.”

You nodded, typing the total into your cash register. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Listen, Y/N, I’m really sorry about-,”

“Let’s not rehash things here,” you said, eyeing him from beneath your lashes, scanning the shop like a conspirator in search of any prying eyes, any listening ears. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’ve both moved on so let’s just keep it at that.”

Jungkook shut his mouth and, after a long moment, sighed. “Alright,” he said, sounding defeated. You hazarded a glance up at him and found his eyes long-sighted, gazing down at the counter between you without really looking at it.

“It’ll be 3,500 won,” you said, holding out one hand towards him.

He blinked and shook his head a little, as if returning to himself, and yanked his wallet from the front pocket of his loose joggers. He pulled out a bill and handed it to you. 20,000. Was that the smallest bill he had on him? You examined it with a thinly-veiled scowl. Of course, he was probably making good money doing something impressive. That was Jungkook anyway. The type of guy who just…made things come to him. Like the universe responded to his will. You sighed and went to work on the old register, punching in the amount and sliding the bill inside. You produced his change to find him already bounding toward his friends with his broad back to you.

Panicked, you rushed to the side of the barista station and called out to him. “Hey! You forgot your change!” you shouted, cupping one hand around your mouth. A few patrons turned to look at you and Jungkook.

He barely glanced back at you when he said, “You can keep it.”

And suddenly you were blushing for a very different reason.

That jerk, you thought to yourself as you watched him plug away at some ad he was working on on his tablet. Evening had fallen slowly upon the city of Seoul, and you wanted nothing more than to stroll out into the lavender evening, forgetting this whole unpleasant day. But instead, you had to wait for your coworker, Sora, to relieve you after making you work fifteen minutes past the end of your shift. Scowling, you kept a hawk’s eye on Jungkook and, unbeknownst to him, wished silent curses upon his head. I hope you go bald, you thought. Or worse, I hope you go out for fried chicken and you get only tendons. You crossed your arms and lolled your head to the side.

You shouldn’t have expected Jungkook to change. He’d always been a ‘my pace’ kind of guy. Maybe leaving that tip was his way of flexing his money to you. That he had enough money to just throw around at random baristas he used to hook up with in high school. Or maybe he was pitying you, looking down on you for working such a menial job. Either way, it made your blood boil. You felt the money crinkle in the pocket of your jeans with every step.

You’d briefly considered spitting in his smoothie, but you didn’t want to lose your job over Jeon Jungkook.

After all, you’d already lost your youth to the kid.

You glanced outside and watched the rainclouds gathering. Of course, you’d forgotten to bring an umbrella. It wasn’t like you’d checked the weather on the way out. Grumpily, you glanced down at your phone to check the time. Twenty minutes late now. What did Sora have to do that was so important? Normally, you’d complain to a friend. But Sua was about the closest you had these days and you weren’t sure you could trouble her with it.

But…were you really friends if you didn’t reach out to her from time to time?

Sighing, you glanced around the shop, making sure nobody was watching you, and unlocked your phone. So much had already happened that a quick message didn’t seem reasonable, but you couldn’t very well bury your head in your phone so after every few clicks you’d sweep your gaze around. You settled for an anxious few words between nervous glances at the rest of the shop. Realistically, you were off the clock anyway. But you didn’t want any bad Yelp reviews on your behalf.

You: Sua, on God today is cursed.

You waited a few moments for a response before growing impatient. Everything was taking forever today: that interaction with Jungkook, Sora taking over your shift, and now Sua not responding. Of course, she had no obligation to. She was probably busy with her own preparation much like the other graphic design students. You had no right to expect that of her.

Wasn’t that your problem from the start? Expecting too much?

Your phone buzzed in response as your mind began to drift toward melancholy thoughts and as you slid it open your eyes went wide and your fingertips chilled as the blood rushed to your cheeks.

Blind Date: Hah…I’m not Sua, but I am willing to listen if you need it…?

Blind Date: Was wondering when I’d hear from you.

Mortified didn’t even begin to cover it. You cupped a hand over your lips in horror, and just as you were about to melt into a pile of melted pride on the floor, the door swung open and a breathless Sora met your eyes with a nervous smile. You swallowed hard and pocketed your phone, offering Sora your full attention. He bowed his head to you, bending at the waist, as he approached the counter.

“I am so sorry for being late!” he shouted, loud enough for every patron to glance at him and, subsequently, you.

Your flushed face went beet red as Jungkook turned to stare at you, eyes wide. Of course, another embarrassing moment in front of that guy. “U-um, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you said, waving your hands.

He sniffled and looked up at you, eyes red with impending tears. “I really didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep after class today and-,”

“Sora, it’s cool,” you said, removing your apron and hanging it on the rack behind you. “I’m gonna go now though so I can catch my subway.”

Sora stiffened and nodded, giving you a salute before scampering behind the counter and putting on his own apron. “I really am sorry!” he called after you.

You waved a hand and rushed out onto the sidewalk, lingering beneath the awning as the rain began to drizzle from overhead. You returned your attention to your phone, pushing your hair behind your ears so you could see properly, and swallowed your nerves.

You: I…am such an idiot.

You: I’m so sorry. I was at work and I’m not supposed to be on my phone, but I just…

You: Jesus, honestly you can just delete my number. I don’t think I can look at your contact anymore without cringing.

You were poised to take a step out into the rain when your phone vibrated again and you jumped to read it with barely shaking hands.

Blind Date: No! It’s okay. Seriously.

Blind Date: I can list dumber things I’ve done today alone.

Blind Date: Besides, sounds like you need someone to talk to anyway…?

You blinked at your phone screen a few times, cocking your head to the side. Somehow, his words had calmed you down, just a little. Your flaming cheeks were cooler now when you poked one with the pad of your finger. Your heart wasn’t a hammer against your ribcage. And as you glanced over your shoulder at the window into the coffeeshop, you found Jungkook was no longer in sight. With a few texts alone, things seemed a little better.

You: I won’t bore you with all of it, haha.

You: It was more of a Sua story anyway I think.

You: I’m trying to break through that kinda hesitant first stage of friendship with her and

You: Well anyway, I’m sorry to bother you. Hope you’re doing good?

Blind Date: Haha, hey I get it. Friendships are weird. Took me a while to make any real friends this year since I was so shy.

You: You were shy?

Blind Date: Oh big time. I still don’t really know how to approach people without saying or doing something wrong.

Blind Date: Like today. I think I came across like an asshole to someone.

Blind Date: That happens a lot actually -_-

Blind Date: Being nervous makes me act weird.

You: Really? You sound really confident over text.

Blind Date: Haha really? That’s good to hear at least.

Blind Date: I’m about the least confident person I know.

Blind Date: Whew, not exactly the impression I wanted to give to a possible date! Oops.

You smiled at your phone and began typing out a response when the door by your hip swung open and out walked Jungkook and his friends. Jungkook caught your eye as your smile was slipping into a scowl and you quickly righted yourself, looking away down the busy street. You held your phone close to your chest and popped a hip out to the side, feigning disinterest.

“See you guys tomorrow,” said one boy.

“Yeah,” responded Jungkook, and you saw out the corner of your eye that the guys parted ways. Jungkook lingered beside you underneath the awning, watching you keenly. “Who were you texting?” he asked.

You stiffened and glanced up at him with a frown. “Is that any of your business?” you asked.

He flushed a little, rubbed the back of his head, and let out a few breathy laughs. “Sorry. Guess not,” he said with a sigh.

For a few moments the two of you just stood there, silent. You weren’t sure what to do next without an umbrella, and you didn’t want Jungkook to think you were just…spending time with him for fun. But still, you didn’t move or make a sound. Just watched the steadily increasing rainfall splatter against the pavement, gathering in pools beside the sidewalk.

“Listen,” he began, turning to you properly. You eyed him from below with raised brows. “I really don’t want any bad energy between us, okay? I know things were messy before, but we’re in college now. It’s been years, right?” Some of the tension between you broke, but it was quickly replaced by a new tension: your outrage.

You blinked at him, working your jaw. “Jungkook, you don’t get to tell me when I’m allowed to stop being hurt,” you said, shaking your head. “Seeing you is a little painful, even though it’s been a long time. So…maybe just ignore me.”

Jungkook sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You know I am.”

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t really want anything to do with you,” you said, meeting his eyes. Your own calm surprised you. He looked desperate, brows knit and lips parted. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to just leave me alone.”

He blinked a few times, eyes wide. “I…I mean, we go to the same school now and everything. I just transferred this year and it’s…I don’t really know many people. It’s not like we’re strangers, so why should we act like we are?”

You swallowed your anger. “I’m gonna go now,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and walking out into the rain. You turned to look at him. “I don’t think you get what I’m saying, so it’s not worth repeating it again in a different way. Just…leave me alone.”

But before you could take a single step toward the subway entrance three blocks away, Jungkook was beside you in the rain, fiddling with his umbrella. “Wh-what are you doing? I just said to leave me alone!” you called at him over the sound of the rain around you.

Jungkook spat rainwater out from between his lips and shook his head as the umbrella finally popped open and the rain stopped pummeling you, now ricocheting off the nylon. You stared up at Jungkook underneath the dark umbrella, confined beneath it, confined to this small, enclosed space. Your chest was nearly touching his arm and his breath was warm as it fanned across your face. Strawberries. Like his smoothie. Rain was caught in his long eyelashes and his rosy lips were still parted, cheeks a warm pink. He stared down at you and for a brief moment, you felt a hot, shooting sensation running from the top of your head to your toes.

“Let me walk you to the station at least,” he said, scanning you.

You felt a little faint, and the sweet scent of his cologne only made you more disoriented. “I’m fine. It’s only a few blocks,” you said, but even you could admit your voice sounded weak.

He sighed, eyes falling to the ground. “I know I hurt you a lot back then, but…,” he began, then shook his head. “Even if it’s small, I wanna make it up to you somehow. So…let me walk you.”

You rubbed your bare forearm and inhaled sharply, shutting your eyes for a moment. “Fine,” you forced out and the two of you began walking.

“So…,” said Jungkook after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “How was your date the other day?”

You groaned. “What we’re not gonna do is this.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “Just curious.”

You watched your hands, clasped in front of you, and sighed. “It didn’t happen,” you said. If nothing else, at least your time with Jungkook made you remarkably comfortable talking to him about your thoughts and feelings. “We cancelled.”

“Why?” he asked, brows high.

You shrugged. “After seeing you, I was kinda crabby so…”

“It was my fault?” He pointed with his free hand to his own chest, eyes wide.

“I mean, yeah but not really,” you said with an easy exhale. “It’s for the best anyway. He seems like a really nice guy. I don’t wanna end up hurting his feelings or something.”

“You’d rather be alone than risk having things end badly?” he asked.

You peered up at him. “Wonder why that is,” you mumbled before glancing away.

He sighed. “Sorry.”

“Mhm.”

The rest of the walk was silent as the two of you were forced to simply live with the words you’d exchanged, unable to do anything to alter the events that led you here. All you could do was walk forward, united under a shared umbrella for just a moment, until you ducked out from beneath it and disappeared down the subway station stairs, not even pausing for a moment to wave or say goodbye.

Blind Date: Yikes, did I really scare you off?

You raised your brows at your phone screen as the subway bumped along. It was too crowded to find a seat, so you stood cramped between a stout businessman and a high school girl, all of you holding the railing overhead for stability. You couldn’t help it, but again you smiled. After all the craziness that had come from the day, this stranger seemed to help you feel at ease.

You: Haha nope! It’d take more than that.

You: I bumped into someone I didn’t want to see, so I had to take care of that.

Blind Date: !!! Same person as before??

You: Yeah, if you can believe it lol.

Blind Date: (o_O)

Blind Date: How unlucky can a person be?

You: That’s what I’m saying. (￢_￢;)

You: That’s actually one of the things I was gonna complain to Sua about.

You: Y’know, teenage heartbreak and high school angst. Etc.

Blind Date: Hey, I said it before. I’d love to listen!

Blind Date: Aight, that was too enthusiastic. How about: I wouldn’t mind hearing you out!

You: Lol, good addendum.

You: I mean, it’s not like it’s really that serious. Just…in high school I was really shy. I didn’t have very many friends and I thought that I was fine on my own, you know?

You: But I guess I was lonelier than I thought haha. There was this really handsome guy in my class who started sitting with me on the roof at lunch. At first, neither of us really said anything. Just…sitting together.

You: But after a while, we got pretty close. Half a school year maybe. He said he came up there because the air was nice, but I had a feeling it had to do with the fact that he was a little too popular for his own good. Everyone wanted to talk to him. But he was like me.

You: Introverted, I mean.

Blind Date: Sounds like you two were good friends, then?

You: Yeah, until I caught feelings lol. Mistake.

Blind Date: You confessed??

You: Hehe…yes.

You: After a while being close, I felt really comfortable telling him anything. I told him it wasn’t like I was expecting him to date me or anything. I just wanted him to know so he could be a little more careful around me.

You: But it seemed like he reciprocated.

You: We started dating…I guess?

You: Never put a label on it, which was another mistake on my part for not asking.

You: But we did everything couples did, just…not really in front of anyone from school.

You: Never asked about that either lol.

Blind Date: Oh…

Blind Date: I mean…that doesn’t sound so good…

You: Haha, it’s probably exactly what it sounds like because once we’d been together for about a year, he ended things really suddenly. We were getting ready to apply for colleges and he was gonna go for one in a different city. He said it wouldn’t work out.

You: I fought really hard for it, but he started saying pretty mean things and I didn’t want to get hurt so I ended up conceding.

Blind Date: Mean things?

You: Things I don’t really wanna type out haha…

Blind Date: Shit! Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.

You: Hey, don’t worry! Old wounds. I should probably get over it, really.

You: No time like the present!

You: He said he never really liked me and he was only with me because he felt bad for me. Didn’t really love hearing that.

You: He said because I didn’t have friends, he pitied me. That was why he went to the roof to eat with me. Why he kissed me and all that. Took me on dates. ┐(￣ヘ￣)┌ Pretty dumb, imo, but that’s what he said and it seemed like he meant it anyway lol.

Blind Date: Y/N…

You: Hey, you asked!

Blind Date: That’s really shitty. You didn’t deserve that.

Blind Date: You carried that around with you all these years?

You: Hah, admitting it sounds kinda pathetic, huh?

You: I guess it’s not the sort of thing you just…get over. I think I really loved him too, so…

You: Anyway, seeing him now is really weird. Never thought I’d see him around here again, but suddenly he’s everywhere haha. Definitely doesn’t feel great, tbh.

You: Ew, sorry for laying all that on you. Not exactly small talk.

Blind Date: No!! Don’t apologize. I’m glad you talked to me about it. Honestly…I feel really sorry for you. It sounds like the whole thing affected you a lot. :-(

Blind Date: If it makes you feel better, I think I can understand you a little!

Blind Date: Like I said, I’m a bit shy myself. It’s not an issue of having friends, but finding good ones. It’s hard for me to socialize without saying something dumb and regretting it. So for a while, when I first started college, I isolated myself a lot. I didn’t want to make any more mistakes, you know?

Blind Date: But recently, I’ve met some people who are really kind. People who don’t judge me when I mess things up (which is often haha). They help me communicate better.

You: You communicate really well, I think :-)

Blind Date: Haha, thank you. I’m actually blushing a little, whew. Uh, I guess it’s because it’s easier to type things out. Speaking is hard because you can’t just reword things before sending them. You say it out loud and it’s forever, you know?

You: Yeah! Jeez, that actually happened to me today (—_—)

You: I’m glad someone else understands it lol

Blind Date: Yeah, me too.

By the time you received the last message, you were already back inside your apartment, soaked from the walk home. You’d used your bag to cover your phone as you walked and typed, so now the thing was slumped against your dining chair like a sopping wet creature. But still, you smiled at your phone. Even though the conversation with Jungkook had been jarring, you’d almost forgotten it after chatting with your blind date. It felt oddly vulnerable to reveal so much to him, but his reaction had been really reassuring. You set your phone aside and padded to the bathroom to dry yourself a little with a towel, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were a little flushed, eyes clear, and still smiling. You shook your head, trying to shake off your grin, but when you glanced back at your reflection it was still the same.

With the towel dangling across your shoulders, you returned to the living room and saw your phone lit up with another new text. Smiling, you unlocked it and read what he had to say.

Blind Date: Off topic, but uh…

Blind Date: Did you happen to catch the most recent episode of Game of Thrones?

Blind Date: Because I need to talk about it or I might explode.

You raised your brows and, without meaning to, you laughed. Was this okay? Was it alright to become close to someone like this again? Was it alright to be excited about someone again? You were fearful, cautious, hesitant. After everything with Jungkook, you’d found it impossible to trust people’s intentions. Were they being nice to you because they liked you or because they felt bad for you? Would you get hurt if you trusted the goodwill of the people around you?

You: Um…

You: CAN WE TALK ABOUT ARYA???

You weren’t going to talk to him again.

Well…that was your intention anyway. But by Friday, you’d spent every night up late chatting with this Nochu guy. It wasn’t like you talked about anything all that interesting or profound. Music you liked, games you played, anime you watched. You’d spent the better portion of Thursday night talking about whether Fullmetal Alchemist or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood was superior. You weren’t sure why you were compelled to respond every time his name lit up your phone. And you really weren’t sure why you were the one reaching out to him now as you sat watching your professor detail the process of molecular movement across a cell membrane.

Perhaps you’d missed making easy conversation with someone you liked talking to…

After high school, you’d become something of a recluse. You spent more nights in than out and despite doing well in your classes, you’d found yourself…slightly lonesome. That’s why when Sua gave you her number after you’d successfully finished a project together a few months ago, you’d been quick to take it. Even though it was a little scary, some small part of you wanted to trust people again.

And maybe that’s why too. Why you were sending this stupid text in the middle of your lecture.

You: Hey dude. You free today?

Blind Date: Hm? Why?

You: Idk, Burger King or smth?

Blind Date: Hehe, are you trying to revive our dead romance?

You: O.O Our romance died already? After one failed date?

Blind Date: Hahaha I mean…you can try giving it CPR if you want…?

Blind Date: Mouth-to-mouth ;-D

You: Yuck, I take it back. Our romance is dead and buried.

You: Anyway, you free?

Blind Date: Uh yeah probs later. I’ve got class until 4.

Blind Date: Does that work for your Burger King plan?

Blind Date: I know it’s hard to get a reservation at that place on short notice >.<

You: I take it all back.

You: I have plans tonight, soz.

You: Talk to ya later, weeb.

You smiled and set your phone down beside your notebook, refocusing on your professor. But your attention was quickly assuaged by your phone vibrating once more. You smirked down at it and, covertly, read the slew of oncoming text messages with a chuckle.

Blind Date: !!! That’s rude !!!

Blind Date: You can’t just offer a Burger King date and snatch it out from under me like that.

Blind Date: I’ll be mad if you jerk me around >:-(

Blind Date: You see that face? I mean BUSINESS.

You: Calm down lol, I was kidding.

You: Let’s meet at the Burger King next to the ramen place near campus?

Blind Date: Hehe, sounds good :-P

Blind Date: Ah, but don’t be too surprised when you meet me, okay?

Blind Date: I don’t want you fainting when you see my handsome face 8-)

You: Mhm, I’ll be sure not to faint.

Blind Date: I mean…a little fainting is fine…

You: Haha shut up. I’ll see you there. Looking forward to putting a face to the texts!

Blind Date: Hopefully my face doesn’t disappoint lol.

You: Yikes, mine either.

Blind Date: Yours won’t.

Blind Date: Haha, I’m sure you’ll look great. That’s what I meant.

Blind Date: Ew, all of that was hard to read. Forget I said anything hhhhhh.

You smiled fondly at your phone before sliding it into your bag. “You look kinda smitten,” said Sua from beside you.

You jumped and glanced at her as the rest of the class began packing up. She was grinning at you like a co-conspirator, brows low, knowing grin on her face. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been texting someone named Blind Date during every class period for a week,” she said, cocking a brow. “I take it you guys hit it off?”

You felt yourself go warm. Not like with Jungkook the other day, but like something else. Something a little deeper than a physical reaction. Nonetheless, you cleared your throat and smiled at Sua. “He’s a good guy. I think we could be good friends.”

“Friends?” she asked with a laugh, flitting her hand as the two of you stood together. “Sounds boring. Get a smooch or two out of it or it’s a bust.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t really know if he’d be interested in me that way.”

“What about you?” she asked, eyeing you. “Would you be interested?”

You stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide, and opened and shut your mouth a few times. “I…,” you began, then glanced at your feet. You followed her out into the hallway where students hurried by in a flash beside you. “I mean…”

Sua paused her walking to stare back at you, her teasing grin replaced with a genuine one. “Wait, do you actually like him-like him?” she asked, eyes alight.

You stiffened, scratching your arm, and sighed. “Jeez, I don’t know! Maybe,” you said, waving your hands. “Forget it, I’ve got another class soon.”

She laughed as you maneuvered around her through the hall, calling after you. “You’re cute when you’ve got a crush!”

You sat at a booth by yourself at Burger King, waiting for your not-date to show up. It had only been a few minutes and already your anxiety was starting to speak in your ear. He’s not showing up, it whispered, You’re an idiot. And maybe you were. Looking around the fast food joint, you saw more than a few couples, sitting side-by-side or gazing at each other over fried chicken. You didn’t envy them. Not that way. Just…maybe it was the human connection you missed more than anything. Last time you’d been in this situation, you were still deeply in love with Jeon Jungkook.

You were sixteen and you sat twiddling your thumbs on a suburban bench overlooking Seoul. Trees swayed in the summer breeze and carried with them the scent of young hopefulness, naivety in the form of dogwood blossoms. You watched the uneven cityscape before you as it resisted the pull of the wind, and far in the distance, slightly glittering in the sunlight, the Han River. Jungkook had said he’d be there at exactly two. It was ten past, and you were getting a little nervous. You’d confessed not a week prior during the last week of school, and to your shock Jungkook had been receptive. He hadn’t said anything bold like ‘I like you too’ or ‘let’s date’ but he had invited you out for some ice cream and you figured that was much the same thing for him.

Maybe he’s just being nice, you thought to yourself with a sigh. You’d spent a long time picking out the right outfit, getting your hair to lay just right. And still, you didn’t feel quite up to par with him. Girls were always confessing their love for him. Guys too. What made you any different than the dozens of other hopefuls? He probably won’t come…

“Y/N!” called a voice from the winding, hilly street.

You jumped and turned, and your heart swelled as you saw Jungkook running down the sidewalk toward you, grinning from ear to ear. And that was what did you in. That sincerity, that vigor, that enthusiasm…all for you. You stood up to meet him and chuckled as he caught his breath, patting his chest.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, panting. “My mom started lecturing me, so I got tied up.” After a few moments regaining his composure, he finally looked at you properly and when he did, you noticed his cheeks going red hot, eyes round. “Oh, wow,” he said, glancing away with a jittery laugh. “S-Sorry, you…you look really nice.”

You felt a little faint. You’d spent months pining after this kid, pining after this purity you kept glimpsing in him, and now…

He was saying you looked nice.

It was almost enough to knock the breath out of you.

You smiled at your shoes and rubbed your neck. “Th-thank you,” you said.

He laughed, nervous once more, and gave your shoulder a shove. “Hey, don’t get all clammy on me, okay? Nothing’s weird between us. Just…two pals…on a date.”

You jumped and stared up at him with unbridled surprise. “Date?” you asked, shameless hope in your voice.

He laughed, eyes turning to crescents, and nodded. “What else would it be?” Of course. Of course, since it was Jungkook, the answer was just that simple, wasn’t it?

You swallowed hard and tried to manage your expression, but you couldn’t fight the smile teasing your lips. “Oh,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh.

He examined you for a moment, scanning you. You weren’t used to going out with friends, let alone dating. All of this was new and exhilarating to you. But you felt a sudden wave of shyness that you couldn’t fight off, and a slightly pleasant self-consciousness. You felt him looking at you, and it didn’t feel like he hated looking. You became very aware of your body, each limb, each finger. Still smiling a little, you laughed again, unsure of what else to do. These were uncharted waters, after all.

“Hm,” he said, bending down to meet your eyes. You blushed and leaned away a little, but he was blushing too and it made you feel better knowing perhaps he was just as nervous as you. “Lemme prove it.”

Your eyes went wide, but before you could say or do anything, Jungkook closed the distance between you, tipping his chin so that your lips met. His lips were warm and soft. They tasted like chapstick and banana milk. You didn’t move, not a single muscle, and perhaps this worried him because he was quick to lean away and stare down at you, fresh insecurity on display in his warm brown eyes.

“Sorry! Was that too sudden?” he asked, laughing and glancing away, down the quiet street. “Jeez, I got carried away, huh? Ha, I’m sorry.”

Before he could spiral, you took a timid step forward and pushed yourself onto your toes. Gently, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself nearer to him. He jumped and looked at you with stunned eyes. But you didn’t give him a chance to think too much, because before long you were kissing him, head tilted to the side, eyes shut. Without much pause, his hands found your waist and stayed there, respectful, unsure.

And somehow, you’d summoned the courage to do it. To kiss him back.

Because he showed up, after all.

He didn’t leave you alone…

Fifteen minutes now and you were beginning to worry. You reasoned that at least there were worse places to be stood up. A nice steakhouse, for instance. At least here you weren’t the only solo diner. But nonetheless, the feeling of a deep gut-punch was only growing. Dread and disappointment mingled into a bitter cocktail in the pit of your stomach. Wouldn’t this just be…poetic? Getting stood up for your first date after years of fear and emotional isolation?

Wouldn’t that be exactly what would happen?

Thirty minutes. At first, you tried to tell yourself he was probably just running late from a class. After all, the walk from campus alone was around seven minutes. Maybe he’d gotten released late. Maybe he’d gotten held up with a professor or classmate. You stared at your Whopper with dead eyes now, watching the cold burger as all the heat drained from it. It was too late to save it now. And perhaps it had never been meant for you to eat anyway. Maybe it was your destiny to become a vegetarian or something.

Nonetheless, you sent a text.

Even though it felt pathetic.

You: Hey, uh…we still on for Burger King?

You: No rush, haha.

You: Just a little worried…

Was this revenge for ruining the first date? Some elaborate plot to get back at you? He seemed like a really sweet guy, but so had Jungkook after all. After several minutes without a reply, you began to accept the fact that you’d been thoroughly stood up. Your throat constricted, eyes going a little hazy, and resolved to wait a little longer. Just a little.

Forty-eight minutes. No reply and no date. By then, plenty of customers had come and gone through the front doors, none of them him. You couldn’t bring yourself to take even one bite of food, the money wasted, the time wasted too. How much time had you wasted, really? How much of your life had you spent watering dead plants?

When Jungkook told you he wanted to break up, you’d been in disbelief. The two of you were close, so close it almost hurt, and the sudden end felt like a slap in the face or a jolt to the heart. You’d fought him in his room that night, the sunset turning the ends of his hair gold, turning his eyes gold too. He had no right being so handsome at a moment like that. You asked for a reason and he said he didn’t want any strings going in to college. He wanted to be unaffiliated. But you couldn’t accept that. You couldn’t accept that the time you spent together had meant so little to him, that the relationship was a dead plant from the start.

I was only dating you because I felt bad for you! he’d shouted once he’d had enough. Ever wonder why I never told anyone about us?! You’d been stunned then, stunned silent. Your brain was failing to process his words. He’d never spoken that way to you before. How much time had you spent in love? How much time had he spent pitying you? I was your only friend, for God’s sake! What did you expect me to do?!

Perhaps you’d been right after all. Perhaps giving yourself to other people was too dangerous, too painful. Perhaps loving someone wasn’t worth it, perhaps it could never be completely reciprocal. Perhaps any relationship you had would be a waste of time. Perhaps all you were destined to do was water dead plants until finally, you decided it was enough.

One hour. You stood up from your seat, wiped beneath your eyes as the tears you’d been fighting finally crested over your bottom eyelid, and carried your tray to the garbage. You slid your trash into the bin and, sniffling, wandered out toward the exit. Customers avoided walking too close to you, likely noticing the tears that were now tracking stubbornly down your cheeks. You would have wiped them, had you had the energy to care.

But all you wanted was to go home and be alone.

Alone for a while.

You pushed your way outside, taking in the fresh spring day. No more rain, even though you would have welcomed it. It could have concealed your crying, your red nose and swelling eyes. You could have cowered beneath a bus stop and nobody would have noticed you. Nobody would have noticed.

Instead, the spring day was gorgeous, teasingly beautiful. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, and people milled about through the street, smiling and chatting easily. Sniffling, you wiped your nose and joined them, walking down the sidewalk toward the subway entrance near campus.

You were overreacting. You didn’t even know this guy that well yet. He wasn’t a boyfriend, he wasn’t someone you’d given your whole heart to. He hadn’t betrayed you, because deep down you’d expected this. Maybe that’s what upset you so much. Being proven right.

You exited the crowd of people a block from the Burger King and walked with your head down toward the subway entrance. You were about to step on to the escalator when you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned slowly, eyes bleary from all the crying, and rubbed your tears away to see them clearly. Again, like he had some sort of sense for when you were most humiliated, Jungkook stepped toward you. His face was contorted in worry, thick brows knit, mouth agape as he stared down at you, scanning you.

You sniffled and nodded. “What?” you asked.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly, taking you by the crook of the arm and leading you toward a more sparsely populated alley beside the sidewalk. You didn’t fight. Didn’t have it in you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his own eyes watery as he looked down at you, forcing your head up as he held it between two big, warm hands.

You kept your gaze on the dirty ground. “Let me go,” you said, but it was weak.

“Y/N…,” he whispered, smoothing his thumb against your cheek. “Jesus.”

“What?” you asked, looking at him quick, fierce. “Are you pitying me?”

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. Looking at him now, he seemed pretty shaken himself. Why did the two of you keep bumping into each other like this? “No! No, that’s not it.”

“Then what?” you asked, shaking his hands off your face. “What is it, huh? Here to show off your money? Show me how good you’re doing while I’m working minimum wage? Huh? Do you like feeling superior?”

He swallowed hard, his expression revealing some sort of hurt you couldn’t name. “No! Please, it’s not that! Let me explain-,”

“No! You don’t have any right to ask me to listen to you!” you said, sobbing. You wiped your eyes with your forearm and shook your head. “Just leave me alone! Everyone!” you shouted.

Jungkook took your shoulders in his hands to keep you still and you tried a few times to shake yourself free, but to no avail. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You kept crying, the ancient pain welling up from inside you like some age-old reserve finally erupting. Your body rocked with the force of your tears. “Isn’t it pathetic? The minute I start trying to reach out, I get stood up?” you asked with a manic laugh. “Doesn’t that just make you feel so good? Aren’t I pitiable?”

Jungkook’s own tears were pooling in his eyes and you could see them there, threatening to fall. “Please,” he said quietly.

You shook your head. “Isn’t this what you want? Someone to look down on? Someone to feel bad for?” you asked, face wet from the tears. “Can’t you just leave me alone?!” you shouted, loud enough to rouse the attention of a few people on the sidewalk behind Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook, without another word, sniffled sharply and pulled you flush against his chest. You struggled against his strong hold for a few moments, writhing, before finally submitting. Without even meaning to, you wrapped your arms around his torso and sobbed into his black shirt. He held you close, resting his cheek on your head. You could have sworn you felt a few tears hitting your shoulder.

But before you could get too comfortable in his embrace, you pushed yourself away and stared at him, bitter, angry, from several feet away. You looked at him like a feral thing, like an alleycat. And the way he watched you was different than it was that day by the bench. It was worried now, like a shadow had crossed over his face.

“I’m sorry-,” he began.

You shook your head and shoved past him. “Don’t talk to me. Ever,” you spat as you walked by, rejoining the stream of people on the sidewalk toward the subway entrance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Sua as the two of you left class.

Half a week had passed, and you were eager for more time to distance you from that unpleasant day. You’d received a slew of texts from your blind date, all of which had gone unanswered. They ranged from the typical I’m so sorry texts to more in-depth explanations. Apparently, he’d gotten nervous. Cold feet, he’d said. Nervous for what, you didn't know and you wouldn’t ask. You were meeting at a Burger King for God’s sake. What could he have been that nervous about?

You glanced at her and offered a tight smile. “Mhm. I’m good. Just…uh…gotta get to work later so I’m thinking about that,” you said, over-explaining. Of course, lying just wasn’t for you.

Sua sighed and hooked an arm around your elbow, leaning close to you as the two of you walked down the hallway. You edged away just slightly, and it seemed she noticed as she turned to you with wide eyes. You hated to admit it, but everything with that Nochu guy had made you wary of even Sua. They did know each other after all. Had this been one big setup from the start? Were the two conspiring to hurt you?

You shook your head and patted her hand with a smile. Of course not. Of course that was crazy. But…something about this whole thing had you feeling crazy. “Sorry,” you said quietly. “Just…met up with someone from my past the other day and it didn’t feel so good.”

She raised her brows. “What? You never mentioned anyone like that before…,” she said, her brows lowering. She looked a little hurt.

You swallowed hard. “Ah, well it’s no big deal,” you said, flitting a hand with a choppy laugh. “It’s in the past for a reason.”

She pouted. “You know you can talk to me, right?” she said, eyeing you.

And with those words, your chest constricted a little and a small pang of guilt clenched your stomach. You didn’t want to end up hurting her. She was sweet and she wanted to be close to you. But what could you do if you just weren’t ready for that? How could you tell her you may never be ready?

Instead, you turned to her and offered a smile. “I know.”

Blind Date: Y/N…

Blind Date: Please respond. Please.

Blind Date: I really really want to explain everything to you.

Blind Date: I know I really hurt you, but I want to explain.

Blind Date: Isn’t that selfish of me?

Blind Date: To hurt you and then ask you to listen to me?

Blind Date: I’m sorry.

Blind Date: I’m selfish.

You sighed as you watched your phone. The coffeeshop was quiet, fewer patrons now that the design students had finished their projects, and you felt safer looking at the onslaught of texts that just wouldn’t stop flooding your phone. You know you can talk to me, right? That’s what Sua said. She had reached out her hand to you.

And you’d pulled back.

You eyed your phone for a long few moments. Wasn’t it time to stop running away because you were scared of being hurt? Wasn’t it time to stop expecting someone to walk all the way across the tightrope to you and start walking to meet them in the middle instead?

Wasn’t it wrong to punish people for something someone else did?

You: Hey…

You: Sorry I haven’t responded. I just needed space I think.

Blind Date: Shit, I know. I’m so sorry.

Blind Date: You know I care about you though, right?

Blind Date: You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you on purpose, right?

You: I mean, we’ve only known each other a few weeks haha.

You: Honestly, I probably overreacted.

You: After everything that happened with that guy I told you about, I think I’m just a little too sensitive. And I took it out on you. And that was wrong.

Blind Date: No, no! Please don’t apologize. Jesus. It’s entirely my fault. All of it.

You: Haha it’s really not. I shouldn’t hold you and him to the same standards when you’re different people. That’s on me.

Blind Date: Can I see you?

You: Huh? So suddenly? I’m working…

Blind Date: The coffeeshop on campus?

You: Yeah…

You: Don’t come right now though!

You: I won’t be able to talk to you anyway.

Blind Date: I’ll wait. When do you get off?

You: Nine…

Blind Date: I’ll see you at nine.

You blushed, staring down at your screen. Since when was he so direct like this? And why did it make your heart race, just a little?

Sua was right. You definitely had a crush…

You watched the front doors as you began cleaning up the coffeeshop. Closing time was coming soon, and with five minutes until nine you were beginning to feel that festering fear that you’d be stood up again. But as that voice returned to your mind, you were quick to quiet it. You wanted to believe in people again. You couldn’t live your life all alone.

So you swept beneath tables and propped chairs atop them. You cleaned the windows. You hummed a pop song to yourself, trying to keep your mind busy. When you glanced outside, you noticed the spring showers had returned and the rain was falling in bullets from the dark sky. With a sigh, you settled down on one of the recliners by the window, watching cars and buses and people speed by. You wondered which one would come inside despite the sign now reading ‘closed’. You wondered who this person was.

Before you realized it, you were dozing off, struggling to keep your eyes open as you reclined against the comfortable cushions. Your breathing became more rhythmic, deeper in your chest with each inhale, and you snuggled into the back of the recliner with a heavy sigh.

And that’s when you heard it. The distinctive ting of the bell dangling over the front door. Your eyes opened wide and you saw his reflection in the mirror beside you. Tall, dressed in dark clothes, hoodie up over his head and an umbrella in his hand, trailing droplets of rainwater onto the wood floor. You wanted to greet him right away, to get a proper look at him, but with your heart racing the way it was you couldn’t find the courage. It was enough for you just to respond to his texts. And now he was here, corporeal, right behind you.

You shut your eyes tight and feigned sleep.

“Y/N?” he called, and somehow you recognized his voice.

No way.

It couldn’t be…

You kept your eyes shut and curled your knees closer to your chest. Slowly, you heard him mill around the shop before pausing beside your recliner. His footsteps got closer, rounding the side of the chair to stand right in front of you. And, quietly, he laughed. And you were certain now. You knew exactly who he was.

You felt a warm, big hand press against the side of your head, smoothing your hair down, and heard a fond sigh. “Jeez,” he mumbled. You felt him crouch down beside your feet and his arm dropped to rest on the arm of the recliner. He gently rocked the chair back and forth for a moment, humming. “Don’t hate me too much, okay?” he asked in a whisper.

And, without another moment’s hesitation, you opened your eyes and stared right down at him. “Jungkook…?” you asked, scanning his face.

His eyes were round with shock and his whole person was wet. He gazed up at you from where he crouched on the floor and, mouth agape, said nothing. Wordlessly, you reached a hand out and touched his cheek with the pad of your index finger. Soaking wet. You sighed and pushed to your feet. Jungkook stumbled a little to accommodate you as you slipped past him to the counter. You rifled through the cabinets before producing a towel. By then, he’d followed you to the counter and was waiting on the other side. Sighing, you waved a hand, signaling for him to join you behind the register. He jumped and followed your silent command, and suddenly you were staring at his broad chest up close.

You swallowed your nerves and draped the towel atop his head. “Dry off,” you said, hopping up to sit on the counter. The lights in the shop were low, and the music still bumped lowly through the stereo. It might have been romantic, if it was anyone else. “Then we can talk.”

He nodded and fluffed the towel through his hair, obscuring his face from view for a few peaceful seconds. “I…I know I have a lot to explain.”

“Yeah,” you said.

He peeked out from behind the towel with one eye, watching you. “Are you mad?”

“Fuming, actually.”

He nodded and let the towel drop to his shoulders. “I expected that,” he said with a sigh. He came to stand in front of your knees, looking right at you with enough sincerity to knock the breath from your lungs. Just like that first date. “I don’t know where to start.”

“So you know Sua?” you asked, letting your heels bounce against the counter’s cabinets.

“Ah, uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “We’re in the same major, so…”

“And you transferred here?”

“Yeah,” he said, meeting your eyes. “It was…no good out in Busan. I missed home too much.”

You nodded, watching your thighs on the counter. “Figures.”

He chuckled wryly. “You know me too well.”

“Thought I did.”

Carefully, he took a single step forward and you jumped, meeting his eyes like a frightened prey. “I never meant for you to carry all that with you for so long,” he said, brows knit and eyes hazy like he may cry. “I didn’t expect you to be so hurt.”

“That’s stupid,” you said. “You can’t tell someone you were only with them out of pity and expect them not to be hurt.”

“I know, I just…Jesus, I’m just stupid,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “Since I was moving away, I didn’t want you to waste your time waiting for me to come back, so I wanted to give you a clean break. Since I knew you wouldn’t wanna break up just because of distance.”

You stiffened. “You…what?”

“I didn’t mean it,” he said. “Any of it.”

You felt like you’d been hit right in the diaphragm, like when you play dodgeball and someone throws a ball at your chest. You sat up straighter and stared at him, watching him carefully. “You lied?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, meeting your eyes seriously. It really looked like he might have cried. “I didn’t think it was fair to keep you from meeting new people and making new connections.”

“Then why didn’t you tell anyone we were dating?” you asked, brow low, scanning him for any signs of insincerity.

His eyes went wide. “I…I told you before, my high school friends…they weren’t so great,” he said, shaking his head. “I meant it when I was texting you about all that. How t’s hard for me to find good people.”

“And you didn’t show up to Burger King last time because…?”

He sniffled. “I meant what I said about that too. I was…really nervous. I was scared you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me.”

You sighed. “Why weren’t you just honest with me from the start?” you asked, all animosity draining from your voice as you saw him wiping his red, swelling eyes. “Back in high school. Why didn’t you just tell me all of it then?”

He sniffed and looked away. “I was scared you’d think less of me if you knew I was so insecure. And I didn’t want you to wait for me in college, not when you could’ve been out making new friends.”

“Well, the opposite happened actually,” you said with a dry laugh. “I got really worried that any friends I made would be doing it out of pity.”

Jungkook stiffened. “You…you did?”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“Shit,” he breathed out, gripping his forehead with two hands. “I’m so stupid!”

Distantly, the sound of the rain picked up outside. You nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking at you once more, startling you with his sincerity. “I messed up so bad. I messed up everything.”

You blinked at him, standing nearly at eye-level, and slowly reached out to wipe beneath his eyes with your fingertips. “Well, you were right about one thing. I wouldn’t have accepted it had you not said what you said.”

He furrowed his brow and leaned into your touch. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you said.

He swallowed hard and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” you said with a shrug. “Now that I know everything, it’s hard to be mad at you for being a jerk when you were really just being an idiot.”

He stared at you, inching forward so he rested just between your knees. “I’m so sorry,” he said again.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, letting out half a chuckle as you let your hands drop to his shoulders, giving them a pat.

“Really,” he said, nodding once as he stared right into your eyes.

“Jungkook, it’s-,”

Before you could finish, he had closed the distance between you, one hand grasping your jaw as he pressed a kiss to your lips. You jumped back, eyes wide, and stared at him in shock. He too looked shocked, like he hadn’t meant to do it at all. He shook his head, eyebrows knit, stuttering out syllables that didn’t add up to anything.

“I-I-you-I mean-,” he sputtered, irises shaking. You noticed no small margin of fear in his eyes, like he was terrified he’d messed things up again.

I didn’t want to make any more mistakes, you know?

The words he’d trusted you with through the screen, his sincere thoughts. He really regretted it a lot, didn’t he? Your expression softened as he continued struggling to find words, and, without even really meaning to, you wrapped your fingers around his neck. He didn’t seem to notice, or he was too spooked to comment on it, but you slowly pulled him closer. Just like that day in high school, just like it was when you’d first entered hopefully into this fateful relationship, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, shutting your eyes. Stunned, he was completely still for a moment before eventually his hands moved to your hips, then slid along your sides, then hooked around your lower back. You hadn’t intended it, but the kiss was getting steamier with each passing moment. You felt his hot breath on your skin as he pulled back to adjust his position before crashing into you again.

As the fever settled down, Jungkook was the first to pull away, but only by a faction so he could speak. “I love you,” he whispered.

You stared wide-eyed at him, only inches away from you, eyes heavy-lidded and forehead resting just barely against yours. “O-Okay,” you said. It was all you could manage.

He chuckled once, still embracing you as he stood between your legs. “That’s it?”

“You expect me to say it back?” you asked.

He smiled, staring down at you. “I guess not.”

“You’re gonna have to give me some time,” you said with a nod.

He nodded too, shutting his eyes as he held you close. Slowly, he moved to rest his forehead against your shoulder, resting against the crook of your neck. “I understand.”

“Like…a lot of time probably.”

“I know.”

You let out a shaky exhale and only then did you realize your hands were shaking. As silly as it seemed, this reunion was pretty jarring to your system. The foundation on which you’d rebuilt your sense of self had broken down beneath your feet, leaving you to stand among the rubble once again. Just like back then. Everything you thought you understood had been proven wrong.

But nonetheless, you smoothed your palms against his back and rubbed gently. Not to comfort him, but to comfort yourself. To let yourself know that, even though it was scary, it was okay to trust people sometimes. Self preservation shouldn’t come at the sacrifice of human connection. And even though you knew the road ahead was going to be long and that trusting Jungkook again would take a long time and a lot of work on his end, you were ready to try.

So, as the two of you left the shop under one umbrella, you drafted a text.

You: Sua, I have SO MUCH to tell you.

#jungkook one shot #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts request #bts reader insert #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fluff #bts angst #bts series #bts scenarios #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook reactions #jungkook request

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Ghosts Are Just as Real as You and Me - Part 5

Five parts? This is further than I thought I’d get. All I can say about this chapter is that Aragon is a saint and she deserves all our love for being the best person ever. Aka she’s the only one who hasn’t made bad decisions yet. This chapter might seem a little disjointed, seeing as it’s written in snapshots, but I wanted to try the new style. Hope you enjoy! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, the only thing I’ve eaten today is a burnt piece of toast off the floor.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, (very) brief violence, cursing, Henry VIII

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Anne Boleyn had a plan. Or well, half a plan. Okay, maybe more like a fourth of a plan, but she was trying. There was no way she intended to help Henry tear her family apart, but there was only so much she could do. He had put her in an impossible position and Anne needed all her wits to figure a way out.

At first, she had tried avoiding Kitty. If Anne didn’t hang around Kit, she wouldn’t have anything to give Henry. After her confrontation with Cathy yesterday, Anne had gone to her room to make sure everything was as it should be. Henry had demanded she write him a letter on everyone’s actions in the past week, so she had done as he asked, leaving the finished product outside her window. By isolating herself, Anne’s hope was that the letter wouldn’t provide him with his much needed information. But her behavior had become suspicious. Cathy was catching on, Anne knew that, so she had to try a different approach. It was a long shot, but Anne needed to start acting on her fourth of a plan.

“Hey Kit,” Anne poked her head into her cousin’s room. Kit glanced up from her book and smiled.

“Hey Annie, what’s up?” She put a bookmark in the page and set the book down, devoting her attention to Anne.

Inhaling through her nose, Anne pushed away any internal doubt. “Do you want to go on a walk with me? Through the park or something like that.”

Standing up Kit agreed. “Sure Anne. Two days in a row, this must be a record.”

Silently recalling what Kit was referring to, Anne remembered Kitty’s absence as well as Jane’s and Aragon’s. That must’ve been what she was referring to. Anne felt a pang of hurt run through her body because of how little she was involved in what was going on with her cousin. Usually they were attached at the hip, but because of Henry… “Great! Let’s go now.”

Anne ruffled Kit’s hair goodnaturedly as the two of them shared a grin. Without even acknowledging any of the other queens, the two of them beelined for the door. Praying no one would comment, Anne opened the door and ushered Kit outside. “Anne where are you taking -” she heard Cathy call, but Anne shut the door and blocked her voice out.

“Did someone call your name?” Kit asked, taking a step towards the door.

“Nope,” Anne blocked her advance. “You’re probably just hearing things.”

Kit’s eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Anne, but she said nothing about her strange behavior. “Right…”

Attempting to cover up, Anne put on a dazzling smile. “Let’s get going, eh.”

Staring at the door, Cathy hadn’t moved from her spot. Anne had completely blown her off. For usually being the center of Anne’s attention, it was startling to Cathy. Not that she... wanted Anne’s attention. But it didn’t feel good to be completely disregarded. She must have looked offended, because when Jane entered the room, she immediately stopped in front of Cathy. “Is something wrong?”

Turning away from the door, Cathy faced Jane. She debated what to tell her, before confessing, “Anne’s been acting weird. Not weird in her normal way. I asked her where she was going with Kit and she totally ignored me.”

Jane frowned. “She has been very withdrawn lately. Is there anything else?”

Cathy bit her tongue. She could tell Jane about Anne’s journal or… “No. Just that her personality did a full 180 and that’s what’s bothering me.”

“Yes, well Anne is unpredictable, maybe she’s planning something?”

Glancing around Jane at the door, Cathy flared her nostrils. “Yeah, maybe.”

Catching Cathy’s strange reaction, Jane was flooded with suspicion. There was something Cathy wasn’t sharing with her. Jane wouldn’t push, but filed away the thought for later. If Cathy was being secretive, that immediately made Jane trust her less, especially around Kit. “There’s certainly a lot of pressure on everyone. Especially with Henry popping up everywhere.”

Pausing, Cathy swiveled her head back to Jane. Her mouth opened slightly. “The only person who’s seen Henry was Kit. Unless…”

“No,” Jane quickly covered up. “I meant it… not literally?” Her excuse sounded more like a question than an answer. “It feels like he’s everywhere, is what I mean. No one else has seen him.”

If Jane was suspicious of Cathy, Cathy was doubly suspicious of her. Jane tended to be more collected than the others (bar Aragon), and seeing her suddenly stuttering was a red flag for Cathy. Something wasn’t right. Jane knew something like Cathy did, and she wasn’t sharing. Two could play that game.

The two women who had been helping each other only moments before were now standing in cold silence. They both regarded each other with narrowed eyes and upturned lips. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go write.”

“Of course,” Jane replied, the usual warmth in her gaze gone. “I wouldn’t want to keep you.” They shared a nod, the same thought on both their minds.

The game is on.

“So Kit, what’ve you been up to lately?” Anne started the conversation, putting her hands into her pockets.

The girl in question shrugged and kicked a rock on the sidewalk. “Not much. I started looking into taking online school.”

Smiling supportively, Anne gave her cousin her approval. “That’s really cool, Kit. What classes? Please don’t say something boring like maths.”

“Nah,” Kit shook her head. “Science and art. But mainly history.”

Scrunching her nose, Anne fumbled with her words momentarily. “Are you - uh, sure that’s the best option?”

“Yes,” Kit stated resolutely. “History’s always interested me. I want to know more, even if I’m a part of it. We missed so much Annie, aren’t you the least bit curious about how we got here?”

“I know how we got here -”

“You know,” Kit laughed, “what the internet and Hamilton have taught you. There’s more to it.”

“Eh,” Anne wasn’t particularly dedicated. “Why focus so much on history when you can live in the now? I’m tired of worrying what already happened. What’s done is done. We’re here for a second chance, we shouldn’t waste it.”

It was hard for Kit not to agree. “I can’t argue with that. We should use our second chances to do something we want to.”

Realizing she was being given a perfect opportunity, Anne gently prodded, “Speaking of second chances, why do you think Henry’s got one?” It was a good way for Anne to get the conversation started so she could press Kitty harder on the Henry topic.

“No.” Kit stopped in place. “I’m out on a nice walk with my cousin who’s been avoiding me for the past week. We are not going to talk about that -” she clenched her teeth in order not to curse, “terrible man. He’s not here right now. I’m not going to let him ruin a perfectly nice afternoon.”

Anne had to admire Kit’s resolve. The protective part of her was ready to defend Kitty at every corner, but the girl looked plenty capable of protecting herself. After the initial shock of Henry’s confrontation had faded, Kit had hardened herself. She had let him get to her once, and she wouldn’t let it happen again, even if it meant she had to cut off her fear. On the inside, Kit felt all sorts of emotions churning in her chest, the kind that would send her running to Jane normally. But she couldn’t do that. She would power through, and she would survive.

Anna had locked the door to her room as she practiced her boxing. A punching bag was makeshift hung from the ceiling as she practiced her stances and kicks. Her grunts were loud, a mix of exertion and frustration. She wasn’t getting the results she wanted and it was working her up. Punch after punch after kick after punch, the bag swung back and forth. Still, Anna was having trouble with the heavier weighted bags. If she couldn’t beat something that wasn’t fighting back, how could she match Henry?

A knock came from the other side of her door followed by, “Can I come in?”

“One second,” Anna called. As fast as she could, Anna took down the punching bag and slid it into her closet, out of view. Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she attempted to appear cool and collected. Unlocking the door, she let Aragon in.

Aragon’s eyes darted around the room as she walked in, sensing something off. She didn’t comment on it, electing to give Anna her privacy. But there was something she did need to talk about with her fellow divorcee. “Anna.”

“Catherine.”

Sighing, Aragon held her hands together. “I’ve noticed you’ve been out a lot lately. Or shut up in your room. I know how close you and Kitty are, and I don’t think you should be doing this.”

Feeling her defensive instincts kick in, Anna stepped forward. “What do you mean, ‘doing this’?”

Staying calm, Aragon stared Anna in the eyes. “I don’t know, and I don’t need to know. But you’ve disappeared and it’s not helping anyone. I know you care about Kit. She’s doing fine on her own, but we’re all worried about her. If she breaks, you’re the best person to help her. I know Jane or Anne might not feel that way, but I see the way you two act around each other.”

“That sounds vaguely like spying,” Anna commented, leaning against her wall.

“I suppose it does.” Aragon just seemed tired, drained. Anna felt bad, treating her so rudely. “I mean to say that she trusts you more than anyone else. Kit knows you in a way she doesn’t know any of us. She may trust Jane and Anne with everything, but you’re her best friend.”

There was a twinge in Anna’s heart as she thought about Aragon’s words. She had barely seen Kit this past week, too busy with her own goals. But if Anna didn’t do this, she would be putting Kit in harm’s way. She could afford to lose some of Kit’s trust. She couldn’t afford to lose Kit. “You said she’s been doing fine on her own,” Anna stated bluntly. “She doesn’t need me.”

“Of course she needs you,” Aragon fired back.

Straightening up and stepping away from the wall, Anna tightened her fists. “Don’t treat Kit like a child. She may be young, but she’s not a baby, Catherine.”

The bags under Aragon’s eyes seemed to become even more pronounced when she looked down. “I don’t mean to baby her. I’m not trying to control anyone, but we need to stay unified. If Henry is coming for us, he’s going to come for our cracks. Pulling away from Kit isn’t going to help anyone, Anna.”

“Well that’s not your choice to make now, is it,” Anna refused to give in. Part of her hoped Henry would come and attack them. That way she would have her chance to take him down.

Murmuring, “One track mind,” Aragon started to make her way out of the room.

“What did you say?” Anna asked, trying to disguise the frustration building in her voice.

Her eyes boring straight through Anna, Aragon replied, “One track mind. Don’t focus so much on one thing that you block everything else out.” With that she exited the room and closed the door, leaving Anna alone.

“What does she know,” Anna consoled herself, going to the closet. She pulled the punching bag out, hanging it up once more. Even if Anna secretly understood what Aragon was telling her, she couldn’t take the time to listen. Anna wouldn’t allow herself to waste a second.

On the other side of the door, Aragon had sunk to the floor. She curled up in a ball and muffled her screaming. Yesterday, she had acted like she noticed nothing, being the happy companion Jane and Kitty had needed. But Aragon saw the nervousness behind each of Kit’s movements, especially when she struggled to tell the barista her order. She noticed Jane’s change in demeanor after parking the car. She was witnessing Anna pull away from the group and hurt herself in order to do whatever it is she thought she was doing. Aragon saw how suspicious Cathy had gotten of everyone, constantly watching and judging. She saw how Anne had lost her light and hidden from them all in some misguided attempt to protect her cousin.

The worst part of it all was that Aragon could watch on and do nothing. The others didn’t give her credit for her observations. Aragon wouldn’t push, that was a violation of respect towards the others, but God, did she want to. If she could just help them, any one of them.

A sob came out of her mouth as she curled into herself tighter.

Anne and Kit had reached a small children’s playground when they decided to stop walking. It was the middle of a school day and no one was around but the two of them. Kit was sitting on one of the swings while Anne stood at the top of the play structure. It was a bit of an odd picture, both of them being far too big for the miniaturized playthings, but neither of them mentioned it. “I missed this,” Kit spoke up.

“Missed what?” Anne smiled down at her cousin, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“You and me,” Kit explained. “I know it’s only been a week, but you disappeared and I started thinking maybe it was my fault or -”

“No!” Anne quickly assured her. “It’s never your fault Kitty.”

“Then why were you avoiding me?” Kit stood up off the swing and walked until she was under Anne. She tilted her head up and reached a hand out. Grabbing her cousin, Anne helped to hoist her onto the structure.

“I wasn’t avoiding you.”

Frowning, Kit pushed, “Then what were you doing?”

“I…” when Anne couldn’t find an excuse, she admitted, “Okay, I was avoiding you.”

Hurt flashed across Kit’s face, but she stifled it. Best not to dwell on feelings if she could avoid them. “Why would you avoid me?”

There was no way Anne could explain it to Kit without telling her everything. “It’s… complicated.

“Perhaps I could help explain.” The two cousins whipped around at the familiar voice, bodies freezing when they saw him. Henry was standing on the other side of the playground, his smirk just as sickening as Kit remembered. “It’s not as complicated as you make it sound, Dear Anne.”

“Get the fuck away from us,” Anne ordered, stepping in front of Kit.

Henry pretended to look offended. “But I thought you would love to see me after agreeing to help me. Your letter was very insightful.”

Holding back her fear, Kit questioned, “What’s he talking about Anne?”

“It’s not important,” Anne said, not taking her eyes off Henry.

“It actually is quite important,” Henry contradicted Anne, approaching the two. Anne and Kit started to take steps back off the structure. “Without your insight I wouldn’t be able to see how well things are going. You’re all so predictable,” he spit out the last part.

Eyes widening in betrayal, Kit started to step away from Anne. “You’re helping him?”

“I would never help him,” Anne growled.

“But you are,” Henry’s tone was light but his eyes were threatening. “I even have your letter if you’d like sweet sweet Kitty to see it.” He pulled out Anne’s letter from the night before and waved it around like a prize.

The betrayal on Kit’s face was enough to break Anne. “Kit, you have to believe me, he’s lying.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Kit’s eyes flicked between the two of them. “Did you bring me here so he could find me?”

“Of course not!” Anne shouted, distress building in her stomach. There was the fear building that Kit wouldn’t believe her, and she couldn’t afford that. Anne had a plan. She wouldn’t let Henry change the game before she got her turn. “There’s a lot going on that you don’t understand, Kit.”

“Because you never tell me anything,” Kit shot back, her voice icy.

While the cousins argued, Henry had come closer “I can’t stay much longer,” Henry brought the cousins’ attention back to him. He was now far too close for comfort, his terrible stench engulfing the two girls. “But you can have a little souvenir before I go.”

And then he pulled out a knife and stabbed Kit.

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

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo @dont-lose-your-queerhead @obliviousasheck @theatergirl06

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sergeanttpoliteness · 5 years

Note

idk if you’re taking requests or anything, if you aren’t ignore this, but if you are I would die for a classic, upside down spider-man kiss with the loml spider-noir. poor guy would probably be very surprised at first but suddenly its his favorite thing to do. thanks I love you and your work!!

AND➝ mayhaps…. a first kiss with noir? if u have time!

sorry for answering so late nonnies! i feel so bad about that, i promise i wasn’t ignoring y’all. same goes to the few other requests i have in my inbox right now!

——-

➹ inconvenient feelings➹ (spider-noir x reader)

word count: 2.5k

a/n: can you tell i had no idea what to call this lol. i didn’t edit either bc… oof. i’ve been struggling a lot with writer’s block (nothing new, honestly lmaoo) lately and someone close to me recently passed away and i haven’t quite… been able to wrap my head around it?? i don’t know, not to be a little bitch but this week consisted of a lot of school stuff, emotions, and anxiety so thanks @ the people who requested this bc i needed to write some wholesome stuff. also thx at my bestie for helping me out w ideas, ily broz. anyway, there’s some minimum ripeter x reader although it’s solely platonic! hope you all have a lovely week (:

taglist: @marvelousmorales

It’s not convenient. Convenient was that one person with the pretty smile whose eyes seemed to possess an affinity to him that one time at a jazz club, or the singer with the honey voice and smooth runs more soothing than the late night singing of a mother to her child. A poor goon who smooched his fist whilst it collided with his face could even fit the designation, really— but what mattered, the simple component they shared, was that all three were just a speck in a sea with no end; an eternal blue void with only more possibilities hiding in the pitch-black depths neither he nor the light’s fingertips could touch. They were safe. Uncomplicated.

Peter stared out the window, at a completely distinct world, far from a city in a vintage film: the ongoing the mechanical song of speeding cars, the newer and taller lit up buildings, the blinking golden lights, identical to a field of a thousand miniscule suns. This was not convenient. It’s… so different— like day and night, water and fire. This meant to swim out of the ocean he belonged to and reach for a foreign land, to run after a mere drop of water when a whole fucking body existed behind him. It’s not safe. It’s complicated.

Your sleepy eyes roamed the same page for the fifth time with no precise purpose, more disoriented than a newcomer in a large city until they traveled and spotted their true destination: Peter’s own sight deeply engulfed in the view outside, the twisting of his brows every now and then filling your mind with wonder and curiosity at what could possibly be running through that brain of his. You could’ve continued with the ogling like the damn creep you were (seriously, you gotta stop it with that, you told yourself), but you slipped and made a mistake— the most laughably absurd misstep— worse than trying to take a picture of a stranger and then, to your utmost terror, the flash going off— which wouldn’t have occurred in the first place if you’d paid your electricity bills on time. Your apartment wouldn’t have been plunged into darkness, and you wouldn’t have, without thinking, your head clearly not in its right place at the moment, slightly tilted your phone and directed your phone’s flashlight right at the side of his face. You quickly pulled the beam of light away, as if that would work; however, his gaze drifted to you. “Sorry.” You blurted out, acting casual and pretending to focus on the journal on your lap. “You were so quiet, I thought you had fallen asleep.” You lied.

“No, I’m awake.” He said, furrowing his brows to himself— of course you already knew that. You mumbled a small ‘good’, holding the notebook close to your face, like a child staring through the window of a pet shop at some puppies, shining the ‘smartphone’, he’d learned, over the pages. You bit your lip, your shoulders shaking with your surfacing laughter.

“Oh, man, this one’s so dumb.” You snickered before running your finger up the paper, clearing your throat. “October 8th, 1999. Today I came back from my camping trip with Peter, Ben, and May. We ate a lot of s'mores— Uncle Ben makes the best! We also told some scary ghost stories, and I even made Pete scream. It was awesome. You will not believe what happened!” You read the last sentence with a dramatic tone, similar to that of a terrible news headline from a sketchy website, making yourself more comfortable on the L shaped bench seat and leaning into Peter’s side.

Peter tensed at first, but slowly, he pushed himself to relax after you rested your head on his shoulder, a quiet voice in the back of his head speaking against his desires, echoing the terrifying thought that he could get used to this. “I don’t know, enlighten me: what happened?” He asked, amused. You lifted your finger, eyebrows raising gradually, building up the suspense. He waited, and waited, and waited, until, finally—

“I have to go eat dinner. I’ll tell you later.” You finished with an unhumorous voice and a poker face. Yet again, he awaited in silence, interested. Man, you took this suspense thing quite seriously— wait.

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?!” He looked down at you and you nodded. “Oh, c'mon! You just gonna leave the reader hanging like that?”

You shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin, loving his genuine disappointment as you flicked the page. “Sometimes that’s just the way it is.”

“Oh, what malarkey!” He laughed softly. You crinkled your nose— malarkey. What a dork.

You resumed scanning the barely discernible handwriting, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards. “Alright, this one does have an ending.” You sat up, rolling your shoulders back only to go back to your position of hunching over the journal. “April 3rd, 2000. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long, I forgot I had this journal. Something crazy happened.”

“The end.”

“Shut up.” You shushed him, shaking your head. “'I hung out with Peter today. We rode our bikes, had a race down the hill near my house, and I also got a butterfly to land on my finger. Man, I love insects!’ …and I still do.” You smiled and he glanced down at you, his mouth twitching. A peculiar glow in his chest grew, fueled him after he recognized that you felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with him; an insight on the stories that carved you into the person that you were today, the being that made every classy, pearly white grin and musical prodigy so boring, so undesirable.

You shuffled on your bum to turn and face Peter, continuing, “We came back home to play some more. We were sitting in front of the TV when, suddenly, he said my name, and like a normal person would, I looked at him…” You inclined forward, voice quieting, looking up at him.

“You won’t believe what happened.”

His eyes darted heavenward and he groaned. “Oh, lord.”

“He kissed me!” You cried out, with as much emotion that past you spilled onto the paper with the five exclamation marks and the three times you underlined the sentence. You slammed the notebook shut and let out a strangled clamor. “I still remember it very clearly. It was just a peck, but he fucking… smashed his mouth into mine, it hurt so much and my lip started bleeding and everything.” You giggled, abashed, rubbing your eyes.

Peter’s brows rose with surprise, pondering how an alternate seven-year-old version of him from another universe had more balls than him. He had to admit, though, the scene playing in his head was more entertaining than unfortunate. “And what’d you do?” He questioned, his mouth twitching.

“He was just curious and wanted to see what kissing someone was like, so we promised we wouldn’t talk about it ever again. He was so embarrassed, though, and felt so bad for making me bleed that he almost started crying.” You recalled, chuckling as you eyed the cursed diary one last time and placed it beside you. “What an idiot. I miss him.” You sighed, peering up at him, grinning. “What was your first kiss like, huh?”

It was comical, almost, the raging blush that trickled his face, the greyish tint screaming for the world’s attention. It was just a Peter Parker thing, you guessed: blushing like there was no tomorrow. “Uh, my first kiss?” You nodded. “Well… it happened when I was eighteen.”

You put the side of your head against the wall, eyes going round, your inquisitiveness close to that of a kid listening to a grandparent’s story. “Was it romantic?” You wanted to know everything: who the person was, the place, the context. Did he enjoy it? Did he make the move? And if so, then was there a chance that, maybe…

Unlike you, he did not have much interest in the subject; he stuttered, searching for a way to move on from the memory before he imploded. “I don’t, I don’t think anyone’s first kiss is romantic.”

You squinted at him, noticing his obvious attempt at dodging the question, but chose to spare him. Just for a few milliseconds, though. “Have you ever had… a perfect kiss?” You said, unsure of how to word such a silly question. He shook his head and you hummed, silently taking in a quick breath, your gaze moving to your right. “Have you thought about what you want it to be like?”

Should he say it? He wanted to. He really did. But he couldn’t, even if his eyes almost flickered down to your lips. “Who thinks about that?” He muttered. Perhaps he had. Perhaps he’d been guilty of having the thought slither into his mind once or twice— possibly more than just that. Perhaps it’d pestered his mind as of recent, like that damn small scratch on his glasses that won’t go away no matter how many times he tried to wipe it away as if that would even help. Perhaps it returned as you unconsciously licked your lips and raised your shoulder, a bashful grin growing on your face.

“I have, when I’m bored. An upside down kiss with a cute guy.” You admitted, your eyes narrowing afterward, only just now realizing how bizarre the idea was once you said it aloud. Your impatience throbbed in your head so badly you didn’t mind the embarrassment as much, though. You really were doing this, huh? “I think I found the cute guy.” You hinted, your heartbeat pounding in your throat.

He understood the insinuation, of course he did. But what better way to run from your feelings than close his trembling hand into a fist, pretend to be clueless, and act like an idiot?

“Who’s the lucky fella?”

Didn’t think he was so stupid, you grumbled in your head, masking your faint irritation. You pressed your lips together, sight on your cushions. “Someone I like quite a lot.” You vaguely said, voice distant. “Though I don’t think you’d understand— you’re not one to fall in love, no?”

It was half a joke but half a real question, one with solely one right answer you yearned to hear from him if you got lucky enough. Peter blinked nervously, fear burning in his stomach, clenching his insides as his tongue dared to break free from his control, from his cowardly spell. “Lately I’ve had someone in mind.” He breathed out, close to breaking out in a sweat. He watched how your eyes dimly lit up, hesitance impeding the light from fully glowing.

“Really? And who is this ‘someone’?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Tell me.”

“Not now.” He gulped. You pouted, begging with your eyes. “N-no.”

“Are you ever gonna make a move?”

Peter drew his lower lip between his teeth, feeling dizzy just by thinking about it; the downfall of the relationship once the distance became too much, once the malaise with no cure finally rotted the adoration, infested the heart, decayed it. “No.” Same answer. Same bedeviled word that boomed in his head whenever his emotions were close to getting the best of him.

“Why haven’t you done it yet?” You whispered, not caring anymore about how obvious you were

being. He frowned. Why hadn’t he done it yet?

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Why not?”

Why not? His own thoughts repeated, betraying him. The confusion unlatched the cage, released all the questions and doubts about his reasons and dread. They crowded his brain, rang in his ears. “It’s… it’d be too hard to keep the relationship alive.” He retold more to himself and the storm of interrogations than you.

Your brows snapped together, your own fear knocking on the door again. “Is it not worth it to try, though?” It’s what you’d told yourself: the antidote to unfreeze your limbs and wave goodbye at the concern hanging in there, because… was it not?

In the overwhelming haziness, he finally looked at you. It’s what he needed to come upon a realization, a truth he knew all along but crumbled and threw away. Everything hushed, one single, final phrase in the quiet of it all.

Convenient wasn’t what he wanted.

“It is.” He said under his breath.

You heard him, and your eyes twinkled. “Well, then make the move.”

He couldn’t help it anymore. His eyes found your lips.

“I will.”

You stared at each other for a moment, anticipation never more warming than right then as it fluttered in your chest. To your biggest disappointment, he broke eye contact and stood up. “Close your eyes for a moment.” He ordered, his face indistinguishable in the dark now that he was further away.

“Creepy, but okay.” You huffed, your eyelids fluttering shut. “You better not be running away right now, you’d break my poor ol’ heart.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not the case.” You heard him say. You trusted him, which could’ve been a terrible choice. The total silence that followed didn’t put you to ease at all, honestly. Maybe you annoyed him so much with your questions that he was about to murder you, and if that’s what was happening, you were quite sad, to say the least.

Your eyelids were itching to open and you lifted a brow, straining your ears to distinguish any sign of his presence. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re not gonna believe what’s about to happen.”

You snorted at his reference, but his voice was… oddly close. You opened your eyes, and— “Oh, fuck!” You yelped and jumped back in your seat. Damn right you weren’t gonna believe what was about to happen, for Peter dangled from the ceiling right in front of you, upside down.

“Is it too much of a strange idea? I was going to simply stick to the ceiling upside down, but then I thought… that’d be… worse.” He clumsily explained. You looked up at the web he hung from, laughing in disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing?” You repeated, but you weren’t mad— your large smile backed that up. You couldn’t figure out if it was a blush creeping up his face or if it was from the fact that he was upside down. Both, maybe.

“I’m making a move.”

You giggled, glad you confessed what you considered to be a perfect type of kiss to him or else you wouldn’t had witnessed how absolutely ridiculous he looked right now. “So you’re willing to help me check 'kissing someone upside down’ off my bucket list?” You smirked.

He grinned. “It would be my pleasure.”

You bit your lip, placing both hands on his head. “Alright, then.“

You leaned forward, the tip of your nose brushing against his chin. You softly kissed the area below his bottom lip to tease him, but he didn’t want to wait any longer. Not after so long. Quickly, he enclosed your own bottom lip with his mouth, lastly fully aware that inconvenient truly was magnificent.

#spider noir x reader #spider man noir x reader #spider noir one shot #spider noir imagine #peter parker x reader #spider noir x you #spider noir x y/n #spider noir #sm:itsv #spider man: into the spider verse #spiderman noir #spider man x reader #gender neutral #fem!reader #male!reader

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bonesandpoemsandflowers · 4 years

Note

Hey! I am asking for advice. I fucked up a few years ago at the telling apart ghosts and gods and would rather not go through that again. Could you help me out? I really want to get back into it but that was a very bad experience so I'm anxious. Thank you!!

Anon, I love this question and if you're willing to drop some more details in my inbox, anon or not, please do. I'm sorry that you had such a bad experience, but take heart, maybe, that everybody does this at SOME point, and taking a few years off to process is actually a pretty snappy turnaround time.

(spooky occult people only pls)

(scroll along, the rest of you)

It IS a tricky question, though.

Tough love up front: there is no entirely safe, entirely pleasant way to do magic. Fundamentally magic is transformative and therefore often uncomfortable. There's fears and negative emotions to work through, and there's also just some straight up tedium and drudgery, and no matter how cool you are, no matter how sure you feel about your place in the grand scheme of the universe, you will eventually question everything and get some things wrong. There will not only always be risk: sooner or later there will be pain.

But! Is it worth it? ABSOLUTELY, anon, and I'm not gonna try to persuade you because if you're asking, you've already made up your mind. You just want to not make the same mistakes over again. You want to make brand new mistakes! It is the only way to move forward.

There is a difference between the merely uncomfortable and the truly dangerous, so ultimately it's a game of knowing when fear is a just a trial to get through versus when fear is a warning keeping you safe. The first time I tried to answer this question I made a quick list of protections, but that's not really the issue. You're wiser than that. You're asking about something diagnostic.

Discernment is the greatest occult skill and one that’s difficult to quantify. It's one of those paradoxes of inexperience, nigh impossible to hone without practice, yet a skill you need in order to get out there and practice.

whatever your prior experience was: what did you learn from it? what was the point where you started to feel something went wrong? identifying that moment, how it felt, how you felt it, will help you more than anything I or anyone else can tell you.

I am, honestly, not the best person to describe how to increase your psychic sensitivity or whatever. The good news, maybe, is that you don't have to be great at discernment before you start. Yes, you can put all your effort into sharpening your senses before you even go out there, which is a noble way of doing it and maybe it will eventually even work, OR—you can put on some safety gear and wade out into the swamp wearing your little floaties so that you don't sink.

Your metaphorical swimming wings here are protections and banishments and the preemptive assistance of something bigger than you on your side. This answer is mostly going to focus on that last part, because "ghosts and gods" implies, I think, that you are ready to work with gods, or at least eager, which is, like, at least half of the process.

However, even then, I do wanna say—while I don't want to discount your negative experiences at all! I don't know anything about them, but I'm sure it was awful!—you, all by yourself, can probably banish most ghostly things you're likely to run into. There's a lotta bark, and usually not that much bite. I wrote up some less formal banishing methods and posted them here on ye old witch blogge, but really, you can mostly just yell at stuff to leave.

(there is a fair amount of repetition between this post and that one! I apologize. I mostly typed these late at night over the course of several days)

Now! Assistance. An ounce of prevention vs a pound of cure and it’s good to pack light.

So much of magic across time and cultures is about negotiating with spirits of some flavor or another. Maybe it's worship or maybe it's bindings or maybe it's strictly transactional, but as beings made of flesh we are forever making pacts with beings made of something else, and hey, it usually works.

The complication here is that the distinction between ghosts and gods maybe isn't that simple. Mess with the wording a little and Catholic saints are basically both. And so are some orisha, some loa, and so on. Baron Samedi (lord of the cemetery, best bang since the big one, etc etc etc) in particular, out of the vodou pantheon, may or may not have been human once, depending on who you ask.

Further: the most readily available spooky occult forces you have are your ancestors. So you'd file that under ghosts, maybe, except that with ancestral veneration practices and all, we inch closer to god territory, in a sense. At least—the rituals start looking the same from an outside perspective. Santeria, Vodou, Epiritismo and many more practices that the ones I'm familiar with involve working with your ancestors to accomplish your worldly goals. We don't consider them ghosts when we work with them; that's not the word we use. But arguably—why not?

So the trick here isn't necessarily how to sort ghosts from gods as much as it is to hang out with some NICE (to you) ghosts and/or gods.

How do you do that?

If you have a good relationship with your ancestors, then you start there. If you, like me, or lots of other long disowned and disinherited magicians, have a disconnect there, then—welp. Consider getting over it by going back further in the family tree (this is what you will inevitably eventually do). Somewhere in there you have someone kind, I promise. But that's not advice I could have followed ten years ago, so I'll get to the alternative in a minute. Let's assume, for the moment, that you accept the logic that your ancestors have a vested interest in protecting their line, and in fact having an active magic user willing to work with them probably makes their afterlives much easier.

There's tons of guides online about how to work with your ancestors. I think sincere, unstructured prayer and a glass of water are the simplest and most powerful of offerings. A candle, if you have one. Just flipping on a lamp or a light switch if you don't.

(I travel with a little LED tealight and a mala made of skull beads carved from ox bone, but I am unnecessarily spooky and dramatic. If anything, my ancestors prefer the plain obsidian mala I first started with. But the aesthetic.)

I'm very, very informal in my ancestral practice. It still works.

Tell them you want to establish a working connection, talk to them about what's going on in your life. Keep it short and don't worry about whether or not you feel anything yet. It might take weeks before you feel something, and that's okay—discernment is, like I've said, the most important but also hardest skill, and it usually takes time and repetition. Offer them something—anything, really, and honestly the plain glass of water is traditional—and ask for their protection. They will almost certainly give it to you.

"But Flowers," you might say. "Fuck that and fuck 'em. I'm not ready to fuck with my family yet."

Alright, little one! I feel ya. It took me ages to warm up to the idea. I promise that it's worth it when you're ready, but having covered ghosts, let's move on to

GODS

Step one: ask yourself if you need to fuck around with gods in the first place.

Step two: fuck around and find out.

Step three varies depending on who you're looking for. There is a great deal of anxiety about this in occult circles, especially among people who use the term "baby witch." People are terrified of making the wrong choice. They want it to be PERFECT. They want to be correct. "Who is calling me?" ask a thousand seekers, across forums and places. "I saw a butterfly the other day. IS IT A SIGN?"

(shit, dude, I dunno, probably not, but potentially maybe. Nobody can know but you. just keep in mind that butterflies etc exist on their own and go around doing their own thing and this has absolutely nothing to do with you the vast majority of the time)

You don't need to be wait to be called by a god to offer worship and/or develop a working relationship. I would argue that most people aren't really called, and if you are, you will KNOW. Tumblr likes to say gods need consent and I think that's fucking hilarious. There is no folkloric precedent for that. If you are Called, capital letter Called, you will know, and whatever happens next is between you whatever bizarre shamanic experience you end up having, because you WILL have it, good luck.

But probably that's not the issue here! Moving on with our hypothetical.

You're not waiting around for divine intervention. You're being proactive. You're not waiting for The Call, or even a mild call. How do you choose what god you're petitioning for protection? I doubt you're entirely neutral about it. You probably have a god you identify with or just find really friggin cool. That's a fine and dandy place to start.

The working relationship need not be forever.

Which brings me to my next point. If you are absolutely undecided about what direction to go in, consider going to one of the liminal gods. Your crossroads gods, your messenger gods, often trickster gods. Your between spaces gods. Your portal opening gods.

In Santeria and Vodou, which I keep on referring back to because those are the systems I was raised in, your messenger gods get called very early on in the ritual. Why? To open the way for everybody else. There's a suggestion here that certain gods are closer or more easily reached, so if you want an opener—ask somebody with keys, yeah?

(also technically there's spirits called before then like the rhythm/dance/drums but let's not complicate things. Broadly speaking: key holding gods first)

Catholic saints wise, you've got Saint Peter, right? Santeria has Elegua. Vodou has Legba. Vodou also has the Baron as a crossroads god and yer liminal spaces god and sometimes he also has keys and hey by the way, he's really great, but where was I?

Hermes is another option. Mercury.

There's a bunch of American indigenous options I don't know enough about to confidently say.

SPEAKING of indigenous american, right, there's always Quetzalcoatl—technically—sky god, wind god, messenger god.

There's Odin and I'm actually a big fan, but the Norse magic community is often kind of garbage these days because we've got too many nazis running around, which is a shame.

My point is: there's gonna be somebody who feels close, either because of your cultural background or your aesthetic, and you might as well ask.

Settle down. Call their name. Offer water and a prayer and ask for protection, tell them what it is you want to do, ask for their help on this new life journey.

Worship isn't really complicated unless you want it to be.

Again, don't worry about "feeling" anything. Don't expect anything dramatic. Just offer something, every day or every week or whenever you have the time and headspace for it. Do the motions and mean it even a little bit and with time the rest shall come.

Because EVENTUALLY, you will feel something. It will probably be a mild sense of peace. The ritual feels calming. Something about it feels cozy. Presence is often subtle, but that counts.

Once you feel solidly good about your ritual, I would say that means you have at least some degree of protection, and it's time to wade around the swamp and see what's up. What do you do next? I dunno! I don't know what your goals are! But you have your ancestors at your back, or you're on a god team, or maybe BOTH—go explore!

Confidence isn't everything. But confidence, my friend, is a LOT. There's more to it, of course, but especially early on: fake it till you make it and dream it and you'll be it.

Best of luck, anon. <3

#ask box #occult only pls thx

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readonline · 3 years

Link

https://nyti.ms/3r9diMp 17, 2020 at 09:09PM

Modern Love

Auditioning for the Role of Boyfriend

When you have been strung along and ghosted by guys who play it cool, how do you handle a man who is adoring and sincere?

Credit...Brian Rea

By Amre Klimchak

It was nearly midnight by the time I reached Erica’s backyard party, after going to a concert in Prospect Park and taking a long subway ride to Williamsburg. Honestly, I was proud that I had managed to drag myself out at all.

I had been in the habit of canceling plans, too depressed to leave my apartment. My career had stalled. I’d just extricated myself from a long entanglement with an emotionally unavailable man. And my father had recently died from cancer only three months after his diagnosis.

The beers I had downed at the show were giving way to a gnawing hunger. Before me, on a dessert table, lay a sumptuous chocolate cake, but I couldn’t find any forks.

I turned to the guy next to me: “Do you know where the utensils are?” (I was ready to eat with my hands.)

He produced a plastic spoon. “No, but you can use mine if you want.”

“You don’t have any diseases or anything?”

“Nope.”

He seemed harmless and kind, so I grabbed the spoon, served myself a slice and walked away, shoveling mouthfuls.

Later, as I was leaving, I bumped into him again, and — no longer blinded by my appetite — I felt as if I were seeing him for the first time. Tan and handsome, he looked to be just shy of 30.

[Sign up for Love Letter, our weekly email about Modern Love, weddings and relationships.]

“I’m James,” he said. “How do you know Erica?”

“We work together,” I said. “I’m an audiobook producer, at least for now. I’m quitting soon.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to drive across the country with my dog, Reine.”

“Like ‘Travels With Charley,’” he said, referencing the famous Steinbeck book that I owned but hadn’t read. He was focused squarely on me, undistracted and earnest in a way I hadn’t experienced since moving to New York from Atlanta four years earlier.

“Maybe it’ll be like that,” I said. “I haven’t read it though.”

“Where are you going?”

“Everywhere. I have friends all over and family in the South, and eventually I’ll get to the West Coast.”

“I’m from Arkansas,” he said. “If you go through Little Rock, you can stay with my mom.”

I thought he might genuinely mean it. Southerners are known for their hospitality, after all. “That’d be great,” I said. “We’ll see.” I wasn’t sure how seriously to take him. “Well, I have to go now.”

“Have a good time on your trip!” He smiled, gazing at me intently.

Was he flirting? Most of my romantic prospects in New York had cultivated an air of disinterest, always scanning the room for better possibilities. I would connect with men only to have them ghost me. Assuming he was no different, I said, coolly, “Thanks, nice to meet you,” and sauntered off.

After Erica’s party, I thought about James but let go of the idea of him until a few days later, when Erica called me.

“My friend, James, is into you,” she said. “He said you made him ‘weak in the knees.’”

My heart somersaulted. “The one with the light-brown hair and great smile?”

“Yeah. He’s 23, but you’d never know.”

I gulped. I’d thought we were closer in age. “Never mind then,” I said. “I can’t date someone that young. Besides, he’ll lose interest when he finds out I’m 36.”

“He won’t care! I’ve known James for years. He’s an old soul. You should have a drink with him. Come on.”

For the past year I had rejected new romantic possibilities as I pursued my commitment-phobe. Now I was ready to move on.

“OK,” I said. I was nervous, but my father’s death had upended my life, bringing new urgency to changes I longed for.

“Fantastic! I’ll do an email introduction.”

Over the next hour, until I received her email, I checked my inbox approximately 316 times.

“James, meet Amre. Amre, meet James. Bye!”

This was all the encouragement James needed. He emailed right away with the subject line “Travels With Charley,” asking if I was free for a drink that weekend. He was following the basic recipe for successfully asking someone out: show clear interest and make a straightforward request. It sounds simple, but after a year of chasing a man who never once did that, I found James’s frankness to be an unexpected delight.

I told him I was available Sunday night. He promised to call that day to firm up plans. I was equal parts thrilled and terrified.

At 9 p.m. Sunday, I waited for James outside of one of my favorite Williamsburg beer bars, its outdoor garden perfect for a first date on a late summer night. He soon arrived, and we embraced. A sense of familiarity washed over me, as if we had done this before.

We sat outside under a bright moon as he asked about my road trip.

“My father passed away, and that’s why I’m going,” I said. There I was, being vulnerable with ease.

“I’m really sorry about your dad,” he said. “You’re brave to go by yourself with just your dog.”

“Thanks,” I said, blushing. “I don’t feel brave.”

Our voices floated along a light breeze as we confided our aspirations. James was an excellent listener and gifted storyteller. He had moved to New York on a Greyhound bus, which was the deciding factor in his current boss, a TV producer, hiring him. She thought he had more spunk than all the wealthy private-college grads who had applied. His ambition was to direct his own films, and I could see he was hard-working, driven and resourceful. I sensed myself falling.

At the evening’s end, he said, “Can I walk you home?”

When we arrived at my building on Kingsland Avenue, we stood at the bottom of the stairs, gazing into each other’s eyes. I was lightheaded with anticipation.

“I had such a good time tonight,” he said. “I have a crush on you, and I’d like to take you out again.”

“I’d love to.” I turned my face to meet his lips in a long kiss under the moonlight.

About two minutes after our date ended, I started to obsess. I couldn’t help it.

The next morning at work, my mind kept drifting toward our possible future together. Since he knew I was leaving in several weeks, did he see me as a pleasant diversion? Should I even bother to bring up the matter of our age difference? Would that ruin everything?

Over the next few weeks, the relationship blossomed. We watched “Pierrot le Fou,” ate vegetarian food and listened to soul music. We decided at midnight one evening to drive to Coney Island and drink wine on a blanket under the stars. I wasn’t afraid to tell him he was a frequent visitor to my dreams. He assured me he’d been dreaming of me too. Our gap in age seemed unimportant, but we still hadn’t discussed it.

After Labor Day, I worked up the courage to ask what had been simmering in my brain for weeks: “I think I know the answer to this, but are you seeing anyone else?”

“I can’t imagine wanting to see anyone else.” His guilelessness melted my anxiety.

I told him about the guy who had kept me hanging as he saw other women, worried that I was exposing too much about my past relationships.

“Well, I was seeing about nine people,” he said, “but I managed to squeeze out the other eight for you.”

We laughed, my fears vanishing.

A week later, we were circling the McCarren Park track with Reine when I asked James if he wanted to meet me on my road trip.

His response meandered as he found his way to the point: “I don’t know if you’re looking for a boyfriend, but if you are, I’m auditioning for the part.”

I was stunned. I had not had any romantic interest ask to be my boyfriend since I was in junior high. It was such a refreshing change from the ambiguity I’d suffered through with all of the men I’d been attracted to in New York.

A week before I left, James was helping me pack one evening when I finally decided I needed to reveal my age and see how he reacted. “I have to tell you something,” I said. “I’m 36.”

“Are you sure you’re not lying?” he said, teasing.

“Why would I lie?” I said.

“But you’re just so good looking.”

I thought he was joking and started to laugh, but he looked hurt.

“It’s not a joke,” he said. “I’m serious.”

As it turned out, James had discovered my age through an old online profile. He had known all along.

Four and a half years later, we were walking around the McCarren Park track when he stopped and said, “I don’t know if you’re looking for a husband, but if you are, I’m auditioning for the part.”

And now we call McCarren Park “Marriage Park.”

Amre Klimchak teaches and advises at CUNY’s LaGuardia Community College.

Modern Love can be reached at [email protected].

To find previous Modern Love essays, Tiny Love Stories and podcast episodes, visit our archive.

Want more from Modern Love? Watch the TV series; sign up for the newsletter; or listen to the podcast on iTunes, Spotify or Google Play. We also have swag at the NYT Store and two books, “Modern Love: True Stories of Love, Loss, and Redemption” and “Tiny Love Stories: True Tales of Love in 100 Words or Less.”

From Modern Love

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omgjennastyleshoran · 7 years

Text

Please Eat for Me... Part 2 (Bughead Imagine)

.Hi everybody, I am back. So sorry I haven’t updated in so long. I am busy with work and enjoying my summer vacation and other stuff. But as requested, I am making a part 2 for this Fanfiction!! If you haven’t read Part One then go and check it out! To clarify, this Imagine talks about some sensitive topics. I highly suggest everyone to take the trigger warnings seriously. ALSO NO HATE TOWARDS ME FOR MAKING CHERYL A BITCH! I LOVE CHERYL!!! And please continue to send in more requests in my inbox. :)

Warnings: Eating Disorder. Long read.

Pairing: Bughead (Betty and Jughead)

Fandom: Riverdale

Takes Place In: 1x09 (Pretend the gifs are in episode 9)

Heavy Breathing. Loud Footsteps. And little sniffles were all you could hear in the hallways of Riverdale High. Jughead was running down the hallway with Betty in his hands. Betty was as light as a feather. She was skinny. Too skinny.

He rushed into the Nurse’s Office and cried for help. The nurses got up from their desks and took Betty out of his hands and into the other room.

“Thank you for bringing her here. You can go back to class now Mr. Jones.” Head Nurse Garland said,

“NO! I wanna know if she’s gonna be okay! I’m not leaving! I don’t care if I get written up or suspended, I’m gonna stay by my girlfriend’s side!” Jughead proclaimed.

“Garland, I’m calling the ambulance, something isn’t going right. Issue a Shelter In Place until further notice.” the other nurse said. Jughead rushed inside and held Betty’s hand. He gripped her small hand, hoping he can get a squeeze in response from her.

“Betty..” Jughead said, weakly. He started shedding a couple of warm tears as he heard Nurse Garland announced that everyone should stay in their classrooms until the Shelter In Place was lifted.

The ambulance came and placed Betty on the gurney and placed her inside. Jughead didn’t hesitate to hop in as well and hold Betty’s hand while the doctors were trying to figure out what was going on.

“Betty please be okay. I can’t lose you.” Jughead cried. They arrived at the hospital and nurses rushed Betty inside the Emergency Room. Jughead was instructed to wait in the waiting room until the doctors were done evaluating her.

Jughead couldn’t stop thinking about how thin Betty was. All he felt was bone. She looked like a ghost. He wanted to get to the bottom of this situation. It can’t be because of Cheryl right? Is it her parents? Polly? Or... is it me? The thoughts raced through his head, and he knew that it would take a while for them to go away.

The sound of Veronica and Archie rushing in made Jughead snap back into reality.

“Jughead! Is Betty okay?” Veronica said,

“The doctor didn’t tell me anything yet. They’re still examining her.” Jughead exclaimed, his tears started coming back.

“She’s gonna be okay.” Archie said. Jughead looked at him wildly.

“You don’t know that Archie. Did you see how different she looks now compared to a couple weeks ago? She doesn’t look healthy anymore!” Jughead said. He started feel the anger and anxiety rise in him until he heard somebody call out “Elizabeth Cooper?”

The three of them stood up from their seats as the doctor approached them, holding a clipboard.

“Miss. Cooper will be okay but I need to tell him something.” the doctor said, pointing to Jughead. Veronica and Archie stood there while Jughead walked with the doctor to another room.

“Is Betty gonna be okay? Please tell me she will be.” Jughead pleaded.

“She’s gonna to be okay. But we need to discuss about her weight. We looked at her health history and she was at a perfect weight of 123 pounds back in the beginning of September, its November and she’s currently at 98 pounds. Do you notice any unfamiliar behavior from Betty recently?”

“Yes. She’s been depressed for a couple of weeks. So much is going on in her life with her parents, her sister, school, and cheerleading. I really don’t know what could’ve led her to become so thin.” Jughead exclaimed.

“When was the last time you saw her eat?”

“I don’t know. A couple days ago at lunch. She only ate an apple and drank a full water bottle. She claimed that she had a big dinner at home.” Jughead hated to admit it. Jughead knew that this was a very serious matter.

“Ok. My theory is correct then. Malnutrition. Depression. Stress. Miss Cooper has an eating disorder, also known as Anorexia. Her parents will be informed and we will provide her with eating disorder counseling and support groups she can go to...” The words went through one of Jughead’s ears and out the other. Eating Disorder kept echoing through his head.

“...Miss Cooper can be released when she wakes up. I’m guessing you’ll be the one signing her out.” the doctor said and walked away to tend to another patient. Jughead walked inside Betty’s hospital room, there she was. Laid on the bed, changed into a hospital gown rather than her cute little outfit.

Jughead walked over and held Betty’s hand. He felt her fingers, forearm, and arm. All he felt was bone. He didn’t know how to talk about this to Betty. Why did she keep this from him? He just wanted to know. His eyes couldn’t hold back the tears.

“Betty... Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Jughead said, bawling his eyes out.

“I’m such an idiot. I knew something was wrong. I should’ve asked you what was going on.” He felt a squeeze and heard a groan.

“Juggie?”

He didn't say anything, he just looked up and pulled his girlfriend into a tight hug. He held her and didn’t want to let go.

“Jughead where am I?” Betty croaked,

“The emergency room. You collapsed in the Locker Room Betty.” Jughead said,

“Will everything be al-”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were starving yourself Betty?” Jughead said, very sternly. Betty had no words. She felt a lump form in her throat. The words wouldn’t come out, all she let out was a heartbroken squeak and some tears.

“Answer me Betty!” Jughead said. Everything was just starting to look up for him. His dad started working again, his family has a slight chance of coming back home and being together again, him and Betty started going out. But this incident made all of the recent happy thoughts go away.

“IT’S EVERYTHING!” Betty yelled.

“Polly going away to the Sisters, Jason’s murder, the whole Archie incident, now Polly is living with the Blossom’s and now Mom and Dad are fighting and now Cheryl-”

“Wait a second. Archie? and Cheryl?” Jughead asked,

“Since I got on the squad, I heard Cheryl and her friends talking about how disgusting I was and that nobody would go out with me and then Archie didn’t like me and rejected me.” Betty said, putting her head down and crying. Jughead wiped her tears and gave her a slight kiss on her cheek.

“Betty, what Cheryl said is not true. Archie only thinks of you as a friend. You are perfect no matter what. You were so healthy and full of life in the beginning of the school year and now... you look like a ghost. Look at yourself! You’re killing yourself at the rate your going!” Jughead said.

“I just don’t know who to believe anymore...”

“You can believe me. Betty Cooper, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I can’t believe you took Cheryl’s word and not mine about how you look.” Jughead stated, Betty knew he was disappointed.

The door opens and Betty looks up to see Veronica and Archie and Betty’s mother.

“Betty! Thank god you’re alright!” Archie said, the three of them rushed over to Betty’s hospital bed and sat down in the chairs.

It wasn’t long before the doctor came in with the discharge papers and Miss. Cooper was more than happy to sign them. Betty had all of her things ready to go back home, she was ready to get another lecture at home from her mother.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later, I’m gonna head to Pop’s. Jughead said and walked far away from the hospital. He wasn’t actually heading to Pop’s, he was heading to Thornhill.

He made his way up to the entrance and ran the doorbell. Cheryl’s mother, Penelope Blossom, opened the door.

“Forsythe Pendleton Jones III. How unexpected of you to show up tonight.” Miss Blossom said.

“Hi. Is Cheryl here?” he said, he wasn’t in the mood for games.

“She in the living room with her friends. Please come in and take your shoes off.” She directed Jughead inside.

Jughead stepped inside quietly, trying not to disturb the trio of girls giggling.

“Did you see the way Betty did the routine today? It was god awful.” Tina said,

“Yea she looked like a newborn horse. Her legs kept wobbling.” Ginger laughed. Cheryl laughed along with them.

“You think it’s okay to bully a girl with Anorexia?” Jughead said, making the girls turn around in shock.

“What are you talking about you hobo?” Cheryl exclaimed,

“I’m talking about what you said to Betty this morning you bimbo. Thanks to you, you pushed her over the edge, she has an eating disorder now because of you Cheryl!” Jughead said, the anger rising in his voice.

“What?” a voice said,

“Pollykins!” Cheryl said, sounding fake as ever.

“What happened to Betty?” Polly said, waddling over to Jughead and holding her very noticeable bump from her pregnancy.

“Betty has developed Anorexia, and Cheryl was the tip of the iceberg for her. Betty can only take so much, you have no idea how much stress she’s been under since you decided to move in with the Blossom’s!” Jughead exclaimed. Polly had no words. She was completely appalled at Cheryl for treating Betty that way. Polly walked away in pure anger.

“I hope you feel sorry sooner or later for breaking such a beautiful girl with spirit and soul. And someone who’s a lot more prettier than you’ll ever be.” And with that Jughead showed his way out, leaving Cheryl and her girlfriends at a loss for words.

(wow that took longer than expected to write this, there will definitely be a part three and it will be fluffy AND CONGRATS TO THE RIVERDALE CAST FOR WINNING AT THE TEEN CHOICE AWARDS! SO PROUD OF EVERYONE VOTING FOR THEM!!)

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aroberuka · 7 years

Note

Evens for writers ask meme?

2. Where is yourfavourite place to write?

Either the kitchen table, which is the perfect height for my laptop & the only place in the house that gets sunlight in the morning, or my bed tbh.

4. Do you have anywriting habits/rituals?

Not writing habits so to speak but I do have a getting ready to write ritual that mostly consists of dragging myself out of bed and going for a walk.

6. Favourite characteryou’ve written?

Mouse!Surana, hands down. I kinda just made her on the spot for that one oneshot and as a result she ended up radically different from my usual OCs (they’re not usually this… driven xD), which made her such a blast to write.

8. Do you have anywriting buddies or critique partners?

@coppercaravan has been both for a little bit over a year and they’re such a pleasure to work with tbh.

10. Pick an author (orwriting friend) to co-write a book with

1) @coppercaravan we should stick our OCs together and see what happens, y/y?

2) That being said it’s super easy to get me to write with you literally all you have to do is drop into my inbox like “hey we should write a thing” and be very patient with my spoonie ass.

12. Which story ofyours do you like best? why?

Honestly it’s the quasiplatonic solavellan fic. I love Tathas, I put a lot of work and also a lot of me into it, I have a lot of thoughts about what’s coming next and I really wish I could finish it already esp since it wouldn’t be that long (like. 8-10 chapters tops, not counting a potential Trespasser sequel) but I haven’t been able to get in a DAI mood for forever x_x

14. What does it takefor you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?)

Ideally I’d need the stars to align perfectly on a week with two Mondays, but more realistically what I need is:

-a playlist, or at least a couple artists that’ll put me in the right mood

-character sheets with some basic info + relationship charts + their stake in the plot

-a rough chapter by chapter plan that will inevitably fly out the window by the time I finish chapter 1.

16. Cover love/dreamcovers?

Not really, no.

18. Tell us about thatone book you’ll never let anyone read

So back in January there was that self-insert month thing, and I figured why the hell not, but b/c I’m apparently unable to write self-indulgent fluff and also I was in a Mood it turned into a writing as therapy thing and now I don’t know what to do with it b/c on the one hand I do want to write it & I think it would help me deal with some stuff but on the other idk that I would ever be able to let anyone read it, let alone post it online.

20. Any advice foryoung writers/advice you wish someone would have given you early on?

Length is overrated, short chapters are fine and the only good piece of writing advice is that there is no such thing as universal writing advice.

22. Tell us about thebooks on your “to write” list

… I’m not gonna give you a full list b/c it would be ridiculous but the ones that are on my brain atm are:

-- Présages aka The Novel aka that one story about ghosts that turned into a story about the importance of healthy communication & a good support system.

-- A novella about an aromantic protag that was supposed to be a subplot of the previous but is now its own thing so I can give it the attention it deserves.

-- A fantasy novel that started with me listening to too much critical role and is basically a thinly disguised metaphor for fighting against depression.

(All of them are depression books tbh and I’m not even a little bit sorry.)

And then there’s the fics:

-- A post Akuze longshot feat. Leo, grief and politics.

-- A Leverage/HP crossover feat. pre-canon Eliot, wizards and poor attempts at dragon smuggling.

-- A CCS/Naruto crossover that I’ll probably never write tbh b/c the sheer size of it is terrifying to me, but I like to dust it off every other month anyway b/c I put a lot of thought into it.

24. Do you remember themoment you decided to become a writer/author?

I don’t remember the moment I started to write – that was a long long time ago – but the moment I decided to become a writer I’m pretty sure was when I read The Princess Bride, b/c I very distinctly remember closing the book and going “I wish I’d written that”.

26. What’s the mostresearch you’ve ever put into a book?

It’s kinda hard to tell tbh b/c my research, like everything else, tends to be scattered in short bursts over months/years, but my most recent research-heavy project has been the Leverage/HP crossover, which has led me to a lot of reading on poaching/smuggling as I tried to figure out how one would go about smuggling a dragon.

Turns out there’s no actual book on dragon smuggling but I ended up learning a lot about butterfly smuggling, which as it turns out is

1)a thing

2)very serious business.

28. How do you stayfocused on your own work and how do you deal with comparison?

I don’t. I don’t stay focused on anything, ever. I also deal very poorly with comparison even tho the only one doing the comparing is my own self.

30. Do you like to readbooks similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works?

I do! I find it very helpful esp. when I’m writing in a genre/style I’m not used to. I try to avoid it with fanfiction tho so as to avoid accidentally absorbing other people’s headcanons into my own work.

32. On average how muchdo you write in a day? do you have trouble staying focused/gettingthe word count in?

Tbh I usually count in ‘pages’ (quote/unquote b/c I’m using my own format which is considerably shorter than what you probably think of when you hear ‘page’), and I’m trying to get myself to two pages a day for The Novel but I’m considerably slower when I’m not writing in French b/c language is hard.

34. Unpopular writingthoughts/opinions?

-- Character death is overrated.

-- The idea that conflict is necessary to tell a good story is highly subjective and even if it wasn’t a good conflict shouldn’t just boil down to ‘characters being horrible (or downright abusive) to each other’/‘characters being forced to commit or witness atrocities’ over and over again.

-- Romance is boring and so is smut.

-- Young/aspiring writers need positive feedback way, way more than criticism, constructive or not; constructive criticism overall is overrated (which isn’t to say that it’s never useful but like it’s not The One True Way For A Writer To Improve that a lot of ppl try to sell it as).

36. Post a snippet

She’s always been lucky is the thing.

Lucky to find the Reds when she needed them, lucky to lose them when she no longer did, lucky to get caught by the right people at the right time, lucky to be offered military service instead of prison, lucky that Anderson had seen something in her no-one else ever had.

Lucky to survive doesn’t feel so special.

38. How do you nailvoice in your books?

Honestly that is one thing that comes p much naturally to me? Like whenever I write in a character’s voice I can usually ‘hear’ what I’m writing so to speak, which makes things considerably easier tbh.

40. Do you look up toany of your writer buddies?

What kind of question is that I look up to all of y'all??? I’m not even kidding here y’all are amazing and talented and I’m so thrilled I got to meet all of you?

42. How many drafts doyou usually write before you feel satisfied?

I’d say 2-3 though it’s kinda hard to tell b/c I don’t strictly speaking work in full drafts, I tend to go back and forth between paragraphs instead.

44. Why (and when) didyou decide to become a writer?

I must have been like 16 or something. Hell if I remember why except I love stories and it seemed like a good idea at the time?

46. Past or presenttense?

I actually prefer past tense despite my current inability to write it (idk why all my fic end up being present tense but I suspect English).

48. Do you prefer towrite skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut it back?

I mean most of my fics are already under 500 words long can you imagine if I actually cut stuff from them? :p

50. Do you share yourrough drafts or do you wait until everything is all polished?

I tend to wait until everything is polished but also, again, it’s super easy to get me to share rough drafts or even outlines with you b/c I am weak and crave validation.

52. Who do you writefor?

Me. Always.

Like listen the fact is actually talking openly & honestly about personal stuff even to people who have been there for me in the past is literally the hardest thing for me to do and I got so damn good at avoiding it I don’t even have to think before I do it anymore, and sometimes it feels like writing is the only way I can actually properly communicate anymore. So yeah I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care about ppl loving what I write but it will always be first and foremost something I do for myself.

54. Favourite firstline/opening you’ve written?

already answered here

#ghouliissh #marti #marti why i thought we were friends #i didn't even reread this i'm just kinda assuming i didn't leave any answer unfinished

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daebakinc · 7 years

Text

Mind Tricks (I)

Summary: When a coworker offers you a magical solution to your one-sided office crush, you’re desperate enough to take it with unexpected results. Pairing: Junmyeon x OC Genre: CEO AU, Magic, Fluff, Smut

“You’re welcome.”

“Excuse me?” You turn around from your desk to look at your teammate with a half smile.“Your last free coffee’s already waiting by your desktop, genius. A week is all we agreed to when you helped me with that presentation.”

“Wrong answer.” Baekhyun smirks and pushes off the counter he was leaning on to saunter into your shared corner. He flops into his seat. “The correct answer is: ‘Thank you so much, Baekhyun, my best friend in the world, for solving my weeks long inability to make a move on my crush.'”

“Could you be any louder?” you hiss, desperately throwing a glance over your shoulder. Thankfully, everyone within hearing distance is either late or still too deep in their morning stupor to pay attention to your loudmouth friend. “And it is not a crush. I-”

“Oh, it is so a crush,” Baekhyun chuckles. He does lower his voice though as he continues, “I was sitting right beside you when he first came in. Kim Junmyeon, Human Relations extraordinaire, here to make us the most fantastic team in the city. You were all moon eyed from the start. That’s not to mention everything else.” He starts ticking off on his fingers. “First, you’re like the teacher’s pet in his meetings when you normally just observe in those things. Second, you started eating in the downstairs cafeteria, where he eats, instead of in the floor break room. Third, your voice gets a pitch higher when you talk to him; thank god you don’t do that fake laugh thing some girls do or I’d disown you. Fourth-”

“My voice does not get higher,” you cut in. You cross your arms in warning, but he persists.

“Yes, Mr. Kim, here are the surveys you wanted,” Baekhyun teases in a falsetto, fanning himself. “I’m so sorry they’re late. I just got lost in those sparkling brown eyes-”

“One more word and I am never saving your ass from a bad date again.”

“Okay, okay.” Baekhyun raises his hands in surrender, but his smile is still in place. He reaches into his jacket pocket, toying with something. “Does that mean you’re not interested in what I got you?”

Turning back to your computer, you gamely reply, “Correct. Thanks, but no thanks. Knowing you, I don’t want to know.”

“Well, I’m going to give it to you anyway because that’s what friends do.”

Soft fabric brushes your arm, accompanied by a dull thunk. Glancing to the side you see a lilac velvet pouch, no bigger than your hand, kept closed with a thin gold string. “A bag is going to solve my problems?”

“Open it. Unless you really meant you didn’t want to know.”

You take another look at the bag. It looks like an antique, a bit battered but obviously high quality at one point. Like Pandora’s box, it gives no hints of its contents. Instead, it begs to be opened, to have its secrets revealed. Your mother always warned you that curiosity killed the cat. However, you’d always retorted that satisfaction brought it back and like the proverbial cat, you often depend on those extra lives. Your eyes flick over to Baekhyun. He’s trying to look invested in his inbox. The eager tap of his fingers and smile still tickling the corner of his mouth give him away.

“I hate that you know me so well,” you grumble with a sigh. Saving your work, you undo the gold knot and reach inside the pouch.

The heart shaped vial you pull out is made of old fashioned thick, cloudy glass. Scrolls and whorls on its surface bleed into one another and invite your fingers to trace them. The pale wooden cork on top is soft with age. It keeps dark burgundy liquid safe inside like an old secret. Some sunlight seeps through the glass to the liquid, catching flecks of light in it so the liquid seems to swirl even though you hold the bottle still.

You raise your eyebrows. “Please tell me this isn’t you suggesting I get him or both of us drunk and make out or something.”

“It’s not alcohol. It’s perfume. Kinda. ” Baekhyun rolls his eyes and flips around a small tag you hadn’t noticed.

“Love Spell?”

“Yep.”

“Baek, where’d you get this?”

“Remember how I went back to my grandmother’s for the weekend because I’ve been promising Yixing down the hall we’d go for forever? Well, we did and right before we left, he saw a sign for fortune telling and wanted to go in. Honestly, I was surprised she’s still around; I remember her when I was a kid and she still looks the same.

Anyway, I was looking around while she read Yixing’s fortune and I saw this. Not that I don’t believe in you, but I thought you could use the extra help. The fortune teller said that’s her most potent potion too.”

“Baekhyun,” you laugh. “Thank you for the thought, but a magic potion? I really hope this isn’t some weird way of hitting on me.”

He laughs too. “Been there, done that, remember? We were fun, but no sparks. That’s why you’re my wing-woman. That potion’s legit.”

“Magic doesn’t exist.”

“It really works!” Baekhyun insists. “My grandmother knows at least five couples it helped get together and they’re happy as can be! You just put three drops on like usual perfume while thinking of the person you want to fall in love with you and the instant they smell it, boom! They’re hooked. Kiss them at midnight on the 12th day of wearing the perfume and they’re yours for good.”

You eye the vial, still skeptical. “Five couples?”

“Look.” He leans forward, his gaze becoming sincere. “Junmyeon is only here another week. You don’t make some kind of move now, you might not ever be able to.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

“'If’ is a more dangerous word than people give it credit for.”

Looking over your cubicle wall, you find the object of your affections. Unlike his predecessor, Junmyeon always has the blinds of his office open, he says to encourage people to drop in and talk. The amazing thing is that he actually listens and tries to help when he can. Kind, polite, and good-humored, Junmyeon was going to be missed by more people than just you. He is without a doubt a gentleman, a rare specimen in today’s world.

Dedicated man he is, he’s already at his desk, jacket on the back of his chair and shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His dark hair is classically styled, but some still manages to tickle his forehead. The thick frames of his glasses can’t hide the little lines that form between his eyes as he frowns in concentration and it’s unbearably cute.

You almost sigh, but catch yourself when you remember Baekhyun is watching you. He grins a shit-eating grin anyway. You put the bottle down with a glare.

“You gonna do it?” he sings.

“You don’t have any confidence in my feminine charms?”

Baekhyun snorts, ruffling your hair. “When you’re not trying, you’re irresistible. When you intentionally flirt, not so much.”

“I know,” you moan, dropping your head in your hands. “Why is flirting so hard? Why can’t I just woman up and ask him out?”

“That’s what this handy-dandy potion is for. So you don’t have to. Junmyeon can man up and ask you.”

“Junmyeon-”

The man in question suddenly calls your name and you pop out of your seat so fast you almost fall. Regaining your footing if not your dignity, you calmly ask, “Yes, Junmyeon?”

“Would you mind coming in here for a second, please? I need your opinion.”

“Of course.”

As you move to leave your desk, Baekhyun catches your wrist and nods towards the potion. “Worth a shot, no?”

You glance at the bottle. The potion within winks at you invitingly. Finally, you throw up your hands and mutter, “Fine.”

Baekhyun smiles and puts the bottle in your hand.

You pull the stopper. Jasmine, cherry blossom, and lily of the valley suffuse the air, bringing to mind summer and first love’s innocence. “Here goes nothing.”

“Don’t forget to say his name three times.”

Junmyeon’s name ghosts on your lips as you quickly dab three drops of the potion on your wrists and neck. Baekhyun gives you a thumbs up. You hurry out of your area and into Junmyeon’s office.

He looks up at you and smiles. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” You smile back, your heart fluttering helplessly. “You needed something?”

“Yes.” Junmyeon pushes his glasses up and gestures at his desktop. “I’m planning the company retreat for next month as a favor to the president. You’ve been here longer than I have of course, so I wanted to ask what you think of the events I’ve planned.”

You walk around his desk and he obligingly shifts his chair so you can look closer. Leaning in, your arm brushes his chest, but you try to ignore it.

Scrolling through the lists and itinerary he created, you nod in approval. “Looks good. I think it’ll be a really fun day.”

“Not too many corny team-building events?”

“We all know they’re obligatory, so you won’t hear any complaining. Besides, you end before lunch and then everyone can choose their own activities, so I think that’ll make everyone happy.” You point to part of the list. “Maybe you could add some indoor activities too for the older employees since it’ll be hotter in the summer? Like a sauna or dance class if it’s not too late to book?”

Junmyeon taps a pen to his lips. “Excellent idea. I’ll contact the resort after my meeting later. Thanks.” He scribbles down a note to himself on a sticky note. “

“You’re very welcome.” You straighten up and move towards the door. When he calls after you, you turn around, hand on the door frame. “Yes?”

Junmyeon coughs. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound strange, but… are you wearing perfume?”

You stiffen. Baekhyun’s ridiculous magic potion can’t be working. It can’t.“Yes.”

“It’s nice. Really nice,” he says shyly. His eyes linger on yours, a different smile than you’ve seen before on his lips.

“Oh. Thank you.” Heart racing, you retreat.

“So, how’d it go?” Baekhyun asks as soon as you’re back in your chair.

“He complimented it,” you reply with a shrug. “He didn’t propose to me, if that’s what you were looking for.”

“That’s what day twelve is for.”

“Okay,” you snort.

“Well, if you’re going to be a non-believer,” Baekhyun says, reaching for the bottle that’s still sitting by your keyboard, “I’ll just take this back and-”

You swipe it out of his reach, making him laugh. “I didn’t say I was going to stop using it. A little superstition never hurt anyone. Besides, I like how it smells. If nothing else, it’ll make a nice perfume.”

He grins knowingly.“Sure.”

“You’re still here?”

Glancing up, you’re not the least surprised to see Junmyeon leaning on the divider, chin resting on his folded arms. Both of you are almost always some of the last people to leave.

“I was just finishing up some emails from this morning. Less to get behind on tomorrow.” You push back to grab your bag from under your desk, stand, and stretch. “All done now though. You?”

“Same.”

Junmyeon waits for you, falling into step beside you and pressing the elevator button. It’s almost a habit for you and Junmyeon to walk out together, pleasantly chatting about nothing until you part ways.

Not expecting anything more, you say goodbye once you exit the building and step towards your way home.

Junmyeon reaches out and touches your arm. “Would you mind if I asked you something?”

Curiosity engaged, you shake your head.“Of course not.”

“I’m sorry to be strange again, and doubly so if this is too personal a question.” He hesitates, catching his lower lip in his teeth as he looks at you. “Are you- are you and Baekhyun… seeing each other?”

“Like dating?”

“Yes.” His cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink that makes you want to kiss them. Words tumble over themselves as he adds, “It’s not really any of my business and I assure you, it’s not that I think dating should be forbidden between coworkers, because honestly that just causes more problems than it prevents and-”

Taking pity on him, you interrupt. “We’re not. We’re just friends, coworkers. Nothing more.”

“Oh. I thought… Never mind. In that case, I know it’s a little out of the blue and I’m going back to my company after Friday, but would you like to go to dinner with me this Saturday evening?”

Your heart thuds in your chest.“This Saturday?”

“If not Saturday, maybe Sunday?” Junmyeon asks hopefully, watching your face carefully.

“Saturday is fine.” You give him a small smile, trying not to beam or squeak or something equally embarrassing as to scare him off. “I’d love to.”

The smile he returns is brilliant. “Awesome. Great. There’s a great little place a friend of mine opened a few weeks ago and I think you’ll love it. I’ll pick you up at 7, okay?”

“I could meet you there if you’d like.”

“It’s no trouble, really. Oh, may I have your number so you can send me your address, please?”

It’s unbelievable how cute politeness can be. You readily recite the digits of your cellphone number, adding him as a contact as soon as you receive his text.

“Couldn’t you have pulled both from my file in human resources?” you ask.

“Ah, but that would be using my powers for selfish gain, not the greater good, and I am forbidden by my Kryptonian father from doing so," Junmyeon jokes, his smile widening when you laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Until tomorrow. Have a good night, Junmyeon.”

“You as well. Get home safe.” With a nod of his head, he turns and heads down the sidewalk. He glances back at you once, smiling sheepishly and looking away quickly when he catches your eye.

Once he rounds the corner, you start walking towards your bus stop. Grabbing your phone, you speedily dial.

He answers after the second ring.“Hello?”

“Baekhyun, you are never going to believe what just happened.”

“Junmyeon asked you out.”

You frown, a little disappointed you didn’t get to say it. “How did you know?”

“It’s the potion,” he says smugly. “Seems your friend isn’t as crazy as you thought, huh?”

“I don’t know.” You take the bottle out of your purse and gaze at in wonder. “Magic doesn’t exist but this… this is unreal.”

“Anyone ever told you love is magic?”

“Oh my god, Byun Baekhyun. That is one of the corniest lines I have ever heard you utter.”

“I bet Junmyeon has even worse that he’ll try on your date, judging from those awful dad jokes he likes telling.”

You giggle then stop. “I’m actually going on a date with Kim Junmyeon, aren’t I?” The realization hits you again and the exuberance you suppressed before bursts through with a loud squeal that probably has Baekhyun holding the phone away from his ear.

Next Chapter

#suho #exo #suho scenario #kim joonmyeon #exo scenarios #exo suho #kpop scenarios #kim junmyeon #kim joonmyun #exo-k

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