#so I COULD have used a picture of the ACTUAL locket instead
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POV, You find a pair of heart shaped lockets, lying on a bed of golden flowers, at the end of an empty cavern:
A little arrangement, by me.
I like to think that "Flowey" didn't stick around too long after everyone else left... two best friends, together again. It's bittersweet, but I think they'd be happy to see him, and he them... two best friends, finally at rest.
#undertale#undertale asriel#undertale chara#original audio#kinda#more of a#song cover#this is just His Theme and Home/Once Upon A Time together#also#original art#made by HEAVILY editing like 3 images made with#stable diffusion#this tech still sucks btw#it is legit easier to just ask for what you want in pieces and stitch it all together in like photoshop or gimp or something#also i do own the collectors edition of UT#so I COULD have used a picture of the ACTUAL locket instead#but I didn't feel like trying to get a clean pic in decent lighting#maybe I'll remake the cover image at some point but for now#this is what you get
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Baby bump?
-Hyunjin
Warnings: fluff, pregnancy?😂
Pairing: Hyunjin x reader
Summary: he travels to Greece and comes home to a surprise
!not proofread!
This is a quick little story because I’m working on requests lol🩷
**
I quickly run up to my bathroom and throw up the lunch I just had ate. Felix quickly follows behind me and hold up my hair.
"Your gonna have to tell him eventually." He says. I let out a whining sound before I was interrupted with vomit.
"I don't want too" I cry while flushing the toilet and getting up to brush my teeth.
"He's coming back home today, his gonna be suspicious." Felix reasons with me.
"I know but I haven't even taken a pregnancy test yet." I sigh as we walk back into the living room where the other boys were playing the ps.
"Should we go grab one right now? I'll come with you." I smile and give him a hug.
"I would love too" Felix was my bestfriend, all the boys were but me and him were just different. We understood eachother we told eachother everything.
"Guys we're quickly going to the store to get something." He tells the guys.
"Grab us some sodas!" Chan calls and we make a mental note before getting it or he car and driving to the stores.
Hyunjin had left a few days ago to Greece for a Versace fashion show and I had been throwing up. Only Felix knew this because he caught me one time and asked me what was wrong. After doing some research we found out that i could be pregnant. My worst fear. I was so terrified that I decided I would rather not know but what if I actually was and one day a baby just pops out of my virgina. Crazy right?
I finally gave in when Felix convinced me to take a test but I had been so busy with my classes and training that I didn't have time but now that we had a day off and Hyunjin was coming back I had to do it now or never.
"What about these ones?" Felix points at the digital pregnancy test and I just nod.
"Hey it'll be okay. If you really are pregnant we'll or raise him or her and turn her into a stay warrior,"
I let out a laugh and poke him on the side.
"As if" I scoff "I would never let them listen to y'all"
"That's offensive!" He gasps.
"Whatever major loser" I tease him and he pokes his tongue out.
"Come on let's pay." He grabs my hand and we walk to the counter where the lady stares at us weirdly. Great.
My phone buzzes and I quickly look at it:
Babe❤️
Hey baby, just got home but the boys said you went to the store with Felix. You okay?
I sigh. I couldn't say 'oh welcome home btw I may be pregnant surprise!' That would be crazy. Instead I just sent a simple text saying we would be home in five and indeed we were home in 5.
I walk through the door and up to Hyunjin room where I walk in. He was drying his hair meaning he had just come out the shower.
"Baby!" He squeals and hugs me tight.
"I missed you Jin!" I squeal and he chuckles. "How are you? How was your trip? Come on you have to tell me everything!" I pull him over to the bed and we sit down.
"Wait before that look what I got you!" He pulled out a bag from his suitcase and hands it to me.
"I told you not to get me anything" I roll y eyes but open it anyway.
"I had to get my girl something! I was in Greece don't blame me." He pulls me onto his lap and I open the the little box where I see a locket made of gold.
I gasp and look at him.
"Hyunjin..."
"Look it even has out names engraved and when you open it, it has pictures of us together." My heart starts to beat faster and I feel tears prick my eyes.
"I love it so much babe, I love you so much" I put it down and hug him giving him so many kisses causing him to laugh but thats when it hit me. I hadn't told him about the pregnancy stuff. I didn't know how he would react. I didn't want to ruin this moment. What if he freaks out?
"Babe are you okay?" He asks looking at me a bit worried.
"Yes yes, I'm just so lucky to have you in my life Hyunjin."
"And I'm so lucky to have you Y/n" he kisses my cheek and helps me put the necklace on.
I run downstairs to show it off to the boys and he just stood by the kitchen door watching and laughing at how excited I was about it. Showing it off.
"I'm gonna grab some food, do y'all want anything."
We all said a quick no and continued admiring the necklace.
He walks into the kitchen and a few moments later I hear a something fall and crash.
"Hyunjin?" I call but no response. I walk over to the kitchen to check on him and that's when I find the most scary sight (well at the moment) he was holding the bag with pregnancy tests.
"Uh..."
"Y/n..." he slowly looks up at me "why are there pregnancy test in a bag, by your keys and wallet?" He asks slowly.
"Well you see.."
"Don't lie to me y/n,"
"Fine.. I was gonna tell you I really was but then you were so happy and I didnt want to ruin our moment and you've been gone and it's just so scary," I rant and feel tears in my eyes.
"Hey babe, it's okay. Don't cry. I've got you" he pulls me towards his chest and let out a sob.
"What if I am Hyunjin, my career is over."
"Well we'll figure it out, I promise. Do you wanna go test right now?"
"Hyunjin.." I sob again and he tightens his grip around me.
"Hey it's okay, I'm right here with you." He assures me and kisses my forehead.
"Okay I'll do it." I wipe my tears and he holds my hand as we walk to his room.
"I'll be right outside I promise." He gives me a kiss and I quickly go into the bathroom and take the test.
I come back outside and sit on the bed with Hyunjin as we wait for the 5 minutes. Longest 5 minutes of my life. He kept assuring me that everything was going to be okay but I could sense that even he was nervous. My stomach was churning and the alarm clock did not make it any better.
"You ready?" He asks as he holds the test in his hand.
"Just do it." I sigh and he turns the test. His reaction was blank.
"W-hat is it?" I asked scared.
"Negative babe." He says.
I swear to God I wanted to jump up and down. It felt like all the weight in the work was lifted off my shoulders.
"Oh thank God." I let out a relieved sigh and he chuckles.
"In my opinion you would look good carrying my baby." He says and kisses me.
"One day babe, one day." I smile.
**
#skz comfort#skz imagines#skz angst#skz x reader#skz drabbles#skz fluff#skz stay#skz x y/n#skz x you#stray kids drabbles#skz hyunjin#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x reader
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The Locket With A Masquerade {Tate Langdon x Reader}
You own a locket, you weren't sure who originally owned it until Tate helped you find who was in the picture.
Fluffy, and a bit short. 💜
First Tate fic, so I apologize in advance if it sounds ooc, but I love this idea.
Your perspective
⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷
"What are you fiddling with?" Tate asked. He turned around so we were facing each other after cuddling for a bit. Then he gently held my locket. It was a simple oval shape and had a fuzzy picture or drawing in it.
"Not sure." I got it when I was 10, and got it adjusted as I aged, so it never accidentally choked me. He stared at it for a bit, sort of in awe at the actual locket itself. "It is a pretty necklace I'll admit."
"It looks beautiful on you."
"Shut up." I gently pushed him away out of embarrassment, and looked away from him, out the window instead. He just smiled and moved towards me more. The window was foggy and it was difficult to see out of but, it was nice anyway.
"Do you know who is on the locket?" Tate asked, wrapping his fingers around it again. We faced each other again, and at this point, I was practically on top of him, not that either of us minded. But I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his neck, snuggling into him.
"Let's look."
"nah.."
"Why not? It could be fun."
"Sleepy."
"Come on, let's go have a look." I begrudgingly rolled off him, and grabbed my small laptop, opening it up, and letting it turn on. The rain was turning into a storm, so I lightly groaned.
"A storm usually means the wifi is gonna go nuts." Rolling my eyes, I checked the wifi, and it seemed to be okay, so I clicked on Internet Explorer, staring blankly at it. "Where do we start?" I mentioned, turning over to look at Tate, who was in his little world.
"Helloooo? Mr Langdon sir?" He shook his head, reached behind my neck and took the locket off. Then he opened it and studied the picture.
"A woman." Tate started. Very helpful. "From...the 20's? I think?"
"Very helpful Tate. Millions of women lived through the 1920's." Despite my negativity, I searched for a registry and looked for women who lived in California in the 20's. "Is there anything else you can see? I know the picture is very blurry."
"...look up Rudolph Valentino."
"Valentino? Uh, okay." As I looked him up in the registery, I saw no clues. "Why?"
"The Woman in Black! The one who always visited Valentino's grave. Have you never heard of her?"
I shook my head, then laughed at the prospect of constantly visiting someone's grave. "Apparently not." But I decided to search for her anyway.
A few minutes of silent searching went by. "Elizabeth Johnson. Born 1902, death year unmarked." I muttered, running my finger along the information it gave me. "A background actor on the set of The Sheik and worked with Valentino."
"Do you think this is her?"
"There aren't any photos of her to reference." But I shrugged my shoulders and carried on deep-diving the internet for a few minutes as Tate cuddled himself up next to me, resting his cute head of blonde hair on my stomach. As I read an article about Valentino, I kissed Tate's head, so he knew I appreciated him. "Is this her?" I asked soon enough, bringing up a picture of a woman standing next to Valentio and the other actors. Blonde hair, crimped up, the famously thin eyebrows from the '20s, and wonderful, red lips. Her eyes had something. A light we both liked to look at.
Tate then looked at the fuzzy picture, and the face structure was as similar as we could make out. We both switched between the picture in the locket and the photo in the Google search. "I think so." He smiled, closing the locket and putting it back around my neck. "You're so much more beautiful than her."
"She's gorgeous, I couldn't compare to her. I do wonder how she died though. And when."
"...No you're much prettier." Tate grinned, closing the laptop and putting it on the floor right by us.
"Shut up." I chuckled quietly, kissing Tate and bringing him close. Elizabeth looked wonderful, in the picture, and in the locket. I started to wonder about my connection to her if I had one at all. My mum never spoke to me about my family or our history. Or if she just put a random picture of a 1920s actor in the locket to make it seem like I was interesting.
Tate didn't seem to mind at all. He didn't seem to hear any negativity I said about myself at all. But I stared at him while he lay on my chest, sleeping. It felt cheesy to think that he was like Rudolph Valentino, but, not an actor. He slept peacefully, but I decided to place the locket around his neck. It made him, and I thought it fitted him.
"I love you, Tate," I whispered to him.
⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶
Tag requests: @strangerthings420
#ahs#evan peters#american horror story#tate langdon#tate langdon x reader#murder house#ahs murder house#Tate Langdon x you#evan peters x you#evan peters x reader#ahs x reader#ahs langdon
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riding fakie | ksj
(or, the one where you think you’re getting a fake boyfriend, but you end up with a whole lot more.)
→ pairing: seokjin x f. reader
→ genre(s): enemies to lovers (lite), fake dating | humor, fluff, angst
→ rating: mature
→ warnings: based entirely on this edit i saw ages ago so good luck, swearing, reader is a trust fund kid with awful parents so classism and screwy family dynamics, a very brief but referenced two-night-stand with taehyung who has a foot fetish (canon) and is ultimately plot irrelevant, this is lite enemies to lovers so sometimes they are not very nice to each other, kissing. i think that’s it? this is mostly tame, all things considered, but i will revise if needed.
→ word count: 14.2k
→ written for: the catch of the century collab. thank you to @raplinesmoon / @joheunsaram / & @kithtaehyung for hosting and allowing me to participate! ♡
→ thank yous: my holy trinity for keeping me inspired and accountable and letting me know when i don’t word good. @the-boy-meets-evil / @hot-soop / @effortandmore. also my husband who actually skateboards and helped me to sound knowledgeable but will also never, ever see this.
→ a/n: [looking a whole lot like the dehydrated spongebob meme] hey, long time no see. this fic absolutely kicked my ass like nothing has ever kicked my ass before, but it’s finally done and here. i don’t think i’m super happy with how it turned out and i think it’s probably rushed, but i hope you all enjoy it regardless! now, if you need me i will be sobbing on the floor holding a locket with seokjin’s picture inside.
[THE THREAT]
The thing about privilege is—
Well, nothing. It’s just there, propped up in the corner, looming over every aspect of your life. And usually it’s fine. You want for nothing. People just hand things to you. But, just like the apple tree and Isaac Newton and the Law of Gravity—everything that goes up must come down. Nothing gold can stay. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. You might have your name and your money and your status, but you also have your parents and your brother.
Your brother, who has somehow found someone to marry him and is planning a wedding.
Your parents, who are threatening to revoke your trust fund if you don’t attend. And bring a date.
“I don’t want to hear it,” your mother says, preemptively cutting off your protests. She’s always had a knack for dictatorship, and another one for doing so as she barks orders to the hired help in the background. “This wedding is very important for us as a family. Do you know how bad it’d look if you not only didn’t show up, but showed up alone? It won’t do.”
On your end of the line, sitting at some bougie outdoor café with an overpriced latte in hand, you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t it look worse to cut off your only daughter and leave her destitute? God forbid, what if I have to get a job?”
An aggravated click of her tongue. “I don’t know where you got that smart mouth of yours, but it’s unbecoming. I’ve at least managed to talk your brother’s fiancee out of including you in the bridal party, so you could show a bit of gratitude instead of being a brat.”
(Impossible, you think. Your brother had taken all the suck-up genes and left nothing for you. Alternatively, you’d taken all the backbone, so it’s almost even.)
“Why don’t you ask the youngest Jeon boy? They’re coming anyway, and it would look good for your father if the two of you were seen together.”
You grimace. “Jeongguk? Absolutely not.”
Another click. “Fine, but don’t you dare even think about showing up with some—”
“Piece of shit loser,” you finish for her. Usually she’d scold you for swearing, but it’s apparently allowed in the name of shitting on the middle-class. “Yes, Mother, I get it. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare sully our good family name by associating with the poor.”
She doesn’t trust you, you can tell by the way she huffs and starts mumbling under her breath, but it’s clear she’s just as done with this conversation as you. “You have three months to figure it out.”
Privilege can go to hell.
[THE SEARCH]
Park Jimin is a lot of things.
He’s got money. He’s got hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers for no reason other than he’s hot. He’s got a closet full of in-season designer clothes, so he’d look stunning hanging off your arm in a tailored suit. He’s got charisma and charm and that innate ability to talk to anyone about all that boring shit you can’t stand.
Most importantly, he’s got a chip on his shoulder, too. He’s on your level.
Park Jimin is telling you no. “Sorry, I’ll be out of the country that weekend,” he says. He doesn’t look sorry. “One of those things I can’t skip. You know how it is.”
Your eyes narrow. “You’re full of shit.”
Park Jimin’s got a laugh that rings like Tiffany crystal. “Maybe.”
Still, you’re not above begging. The list of acceptable arm candy candidates (which you’ve taken to calling The Armcandidates, because you also got all the humor genes) is rapidly dwindling, and although Jimin’s not bottom of the barrel, he’s close. “Jimin, please. Whatever you want, I just need this one favor.”
“Don’t barter with things you’re not willing to give up,” he chides, nothing but heat. Would you fuck Jimin to keep your trust fund? Pillowy lips, slutty little waist, thighs that could crush your head like a grape—you could definitely do worse, all things considered.
“Who says I’m not?”
Jimin would come dead last in a poker tournament, the way surprise flashes across his face. “Well, in that case, I’m actually sorry I’ll be out of the country that weekend.”
You groan, head dropping onto your folded arms. “Can’t believe I outed myself like that and you’re still turning me down.”
Laughter trails behind him as he disappears into his massive closet. “Have you asked Taehyungie? He loves weddings.”
“The last time I talked to Kim Taehyung, he jerked off on my feet and cried. I don’t think I could look him in the eye, let alone invite him to my brother’s wedding.”
Jimin snorts. “He’s actually quite lovely once you get past the foot stuff. Think about it.”
Regretfully, not only do you think about asking Taehyung, you actually go through with it.
One day you’re talking to Jimin and the next thing you know, you’re once again on your back in Kim Taehyung’s bed. No weird feet shit this time, you’d told him, and, well, here you are. Skin tacky from sweat, entire room stinking of sex. Kim Taehyung is weird as hell but he’s unreasonably hot, and you’d made it all of ten minutes in his presence before folding.
(The last time it’d been five, so you’re making progress. Surely that’s something to be proud of.)
“I actually came here for a reason,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. Beside you, Taehyung hums an acknowledgement. You try not to wonder if he’s staring at your toes and that’s why he’s breathing so hard. “I need to bring a date to my brother’s wedding or my parents are gonna cut me off.”
He whistles. “Damn, that’s cold. Fully?”
“That’s what they say.”
“And you’ve decided to ask me? I’m honored, angel.”
“I asked Jimin first, to be fair.”
Taehyung’s face falls comically. “I’m no longer honored,” he jokes. “Jiminie’s great at weddings. He said no?”
You shrug. Something about his rejection still stings. You’re trying not to take it personally. Or think about it too much. “Said he’s going to be out of the country that weekend. Told me to ask you because you quote-unquote ‘love weddings’.”
“He said that?” Taehyung asks, voice pitched higher, dopey look overtaking his features. “Wow, we’re so in sync.” Wistful, like he’s lovesick. “We really must be soulmates.”
You choke. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”
“Uh, no. Is the wedding the weekend he’s going to Milan?”
That ‘no’ seems to be carrying a lot of weight. You eye him suspiciously. “Apparently.”
“Ah, I’ll be in Paris. I asked him to come with me and he told me no, too. Guess you know how it feels.”
You sit up, sheets clutched to your chest. “Seriously, what’s going on with you two?”
Taehyung heaves a long-suffering sigh. “How much time do you have?”
You roll your eyes. “About three minutes.”
“Next time, then. Sorry I can’t help with the wedding. You’ll find someone, though.”
Another day, another rejection. You tell Taehyung not to look at your feet as you get dressed to leave.
Jung Hoseok isn’t generationally wealthy, but he’s got enough money to be deemed respectable in the eyes of your parents.
He’s also got a 24 karat smile and a meticulously highlighted and underlined study guide for your upcoming exam, so he’s currently ranked number one on your Armcandidates list.
“Hobi, have I ever told you you’re my favorite person?”
He eyes you over the lid of his coffee cup. “A few times, yeah.”
“Jung Hoseok,” you singsong, “actual sunshine, number one human, best thing since sliced bre—”
“If you finish that sentence with some fire of my loins Lolita bullshit I’m leaving.”
You pout. “I need a favor.”
He tosses the study guide in your direction. “Just take it. I have another copy in my bag.”
“Not that,” you say, but you take it anyway. Hoseok’s study guides are a thing of legend: even if you don’t use it, you’ll be able to sell it to some idiot underclassman for a week’s worth of coffee. The bougie kind with whipped cream on top. “I need a date for my brother’s wedding.”
Now it’s his turn to choke. “And you’re asking me?”
“Yeah? What’s wrong with asking you?”
He shrugs, suddenly antsy, like he’s too big for his skin. “I don’t know. Don’t you have, like, actual prospects? Every dude in our cohort wants to date you.”
“Because I’m hot and I have a shitload of money,” you retort, and Hoseok makes a face that says yeah, fair. “I’d rather be tarred and feathered than ask any of them. We’re friends, and I trust you. Additionally, your family’s rich enough to get my parents off my back and we’d look good together.”
“Ah, yes, that last point is very important.”
You scoff. “Of course it is, it’s my brother’s wedding. Do you know how many pictures I’m gonna be forced to take? Hundreds. Possibly thousands.”
“Sounds terrible.”
“It will be, which is why I need a brother-in-arms. A confidante. A comrade.”
“Have you asked Jimin? He’s great at weddings.”
You nearly start shrieking. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“...Is that a yes?”
“Of course I asked Jimin. I asked Taehyung, too. They’re both going to be out of the country and are probably fucking, and that’s not particularly something I want to get in the middle of.” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “It could be serious,” you argue. “Like, Actual Feelings kind of stuff, and that shit gets messy.”
“Yeah, fair,” Hoseok concedes, out loud this time. “Plus Tae has that weird foot thing.”
“Exactly! So you get it.” Finally, a lead! “Will you come, then?” You flutter your eyelashes. “Pretty please, Hobi.”
“When is it?” As you rattle off the date, Hoseok digs through his bag for his phone. Then he pulls up his calendar and frowns. “Shit, no can do, either. My elective rotation starts that prior Monday.”
“Ew. What elective are you taking?”
Hoseok nearly blinds you as he smiles. “Reproductive endo and infertility.”
Your eyes widen. “Holy shit, that one you applied to ages ago? You got it?” He nods. “Oh my god, Hobi, that’s amazing!” You launch across the table to hug him. “I still hate you for bailing, but think of all the tiny raisins you’re gonna help bring into the world!” You wipe away a fake tear. “You’re a god amongst men, Jung Hoseok.”
He takes a bow. “Thank you, thank you. Speaking of which, how’s the volunteer gig in the ER treating you?”
“It’s fine.” You groan, put-upon, and sometimes Hoseok is so smiley and endearing that you feel guilty unloading all of your burdens on him, so you aren’t going to. Not unless he asks. Because he’s prone to dramatics and neuroticism but not like you are, and you know it can be a lot for someone not expecting it.
However—
“That’s good. Is that annoying guy you told me about still bothering you?”
Wrong question.
You cock an eyebrow. “This is the third time this week.”
In front of you, Kim Seokjin just grins, dried blood cracking on his plush lower lip. “Yep.”
“It’s Tuesday,” you deadpan. The grin grows wider, warping the purple-black bruise beneath his eye.
Because he’s arguably the most annoying person on earth, Seokjin just hums an acknowledgement, leaning further against the reception desk. “Well,” he says, voice interlaced with honey, “you’d have to take that up with the Babylonians, since they invented the modern calendar. Not much I can do about that.”
A pause. Then, “You’re really fucking annoying, do you know that?”
“It's a bit rude to insult someone seeking out your services, don’t you think?”
You roll your eyes, pushing your tongue into the fat of your cheek. “Not really. Not if it’s you.”
Surprisingly—or maybe not, considering everything seems to roll off his back—a laugh comes tumbling out of him. “Listen, I know it’s probably overwhelming to be blessed with the sight of this face not once, but three times in a week. I can understand and excuse your insensitivity, so I won’t report you this time, but—”
Ignoring him, you slam a clipboard onto the space between you. ���You know the drill.”
“What if I’ve forgotten it?”
“Name, address, insurance information, reason for treatment.”
“You know my name, you know where I live, insurance hasn’t changed, and I’m just here to soak in your sparkling personality.”
With as murderous a stare as you can muster, you push the clipboard further in his direction. It hits something solid. Probably a rib, judging by Seokjin’s pained wheeze, but you don’t get paid enough to care. “Do you need a pen?”
“Why, so you can stab me with it?”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
He rolls his eyes. Thumbs through the intake forms and pretends to read them, even though the last time he had to sign one he’d just drawn a stick figure giving you the finger. “Have you ever spoken to anyone about your sociopathic tendencies? Might do you some good.”
With prolonged eye contact, you toss a pen in his direction. Hits him square between the eyes. “A million times,” you deadpan. This is where you’d blow a bubble and pop it if you were allowed to chew gum on the clock. “I’ve been diagnosed with an incurable case of bitchitis. It’s a very tragic burden to bear. Fill out the form.”
Seokjin huffs. Stays standing right in front of you as he does as you say, ignoring the line of people behind him that’s rapidly stacking up. Someone towards the back yells at him to get out of the way, but the protest dies immediately once he turns around and smiles. You think an elderly woman faints. She definitely bobbles, at the very least.
“Thanks so much for your help,” Seokjin says, handing the forms back with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. They’re free of doodled middle fingers, so you wave him off. “Have a great day,” he lobs over his shoulder. When you look down, he’s giving you the finger at waist-height.
“Have the day you deserve,” you fire back.
Your skin needles with anxiety for the rest of the day.
Seokjin comes into the emergency room again on Friday.
He’s got a large gash just above his eyebrow that’s gonna need stitches. You tell him as much as he fills out the same forms as the day before, and he tells you to tell him something he doesn’t know as he rolls his eyes and winces immediately.
“Here’s something you don’t seem to know: karma is real, and she also thinks you’re an asshole.”
You get the finger again for that one. Honestly, you can’t say you don’t deserve it.
“Kiss my ass.”
You pretend to pout. “Health hazard. Against hospital policy.”
Seokjin pauses. Seems to study you for a while, and then he’s cocking an eyebrow and asking, “What do you actually do here, anyway? Besides be a giant bitch.”
Wordlessly, you point at your name tag. There, right beneath your first and last name, lies the answer to Seokjin’s question. He squints. Winces again. “You’re a med student?”
Again, you point at your name tag.
“That means I can write a complaint.”
“Go ahead,” you retort. “My mother’s on the board of directors, and luckily for you she already knows I’m a giant bitch.”
Seokjin snorts, jaw dropping slightly. Just enough to draw attention to his mouth, which you’ve seen a hundred times for a hundred different injuries, but it looks especially sinful today. Maybe it’s just because he’s being mean to you, which is something you might need to explore with Taehyung in exchange for pictures of your feet.
“Ah, I should’ve known. You’ve got overwhelming nepo kid energy. Probably never had to work for anything a day in your life, huh? Probably a legacy to whatever shit-tier medical school was bribed into accepting you, too.”
Until now, you’d thought your banter with Seokjin was relatively harmless. Barbed, sure, and definitely effective. You’d throttle Seokjin if given the chance, and you know he’d do the same. But it’s never been outright cruel.
You try to look unfazed. Try to look like you don’t care about Seokjin and his words at all, because they’re nothing you haven’t heard before. Not like you’d asked to be born to your parents, so shit like this usually rolled off your back.
Now, though—
Your face must fall, just a little, because Seokjin immediately looks remorseful. Moves to say something, but you’re retrieving his clipboard and intake paperwork before he can stutter out an apology. “Thanks. They’ll call you back shortly.”
“Hey, I—“
“You can take a seat over there,” you interject, eyes locked on your computer screen. If you tear up, you can just blame it on eye strain.
You don’t see Seokjin for another two weeks.
And that’s… fine. His absence has given you some time to digest, some time to mull things over, decide if you’re actually upset or if you’d gone temporarily insane. It’d taken ten days, but you came to the conclusion that it’d just been a fleeting moment of sensitivity. People are mean to you all the time in the ER; if you took each insult or attack on your character to heart, you’d be in for a world of hurt.
So, yeah. You’d had a rough day and Seokjin saying you were a good-for-nothing nepot stung a little. That’s it.
Because you’ve got more pressing matters to attend to. You’ve managed to piss away an entire month without securing a date to the wedding, and now you’ve got time breathing down your neck. Two months, your mother’s shrill voice shrieks in your head, and it devolves into weeks and days and hours the longer you let yourself spiral. It’d seemed like so long before: you’d been so certain you’d have a date by the end of day one, and then the universe had to go and humble you. Cruel.
But the universe is also fair, because one day it’s been two weeks since you’ve seen Seokjin, and the next it’s a painfully slow Thursday afternoon and he strolls in with splinted fingers and a sheepish, weary expression.
“Uh, hi.”
You look up from your computer, taking in all the bruises and scars that dot his face but take nothing away from the beauty of it. “Sorry, exorcism hours ended at noon.”
Seokjin swallows, nostrils flaring. He looks like he wants to argue, just because he’s him and you’re you, but he acquiesces with a little nod. “Fair. I deserved that.”
“Here for the usual?” you ask, tone dry and neutral. When Seokjin doesn’t answer, you grab a clipboard and start your usual spiel—name, address, insurance information, reason for treatment—and then there’s a choked-off sound, not unlike a cat dying.
He looks pained when you dare a glance. Face contorted into a grimace, just like all the parents who bring in their constipated babies. “No, no,” he says. Sucks in a deep breath, and you nearly roll your eyes in exasperation. This guy’s acting like he’s about to give a speech at the goddamn United Nations. “I’m here to… apologize?”
You blink. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Telling you?” A pause. “Yeah, definitely telling you.”
“Okay.” Another pause. Seokjin fidgets, shifts his weight from one leg to the other, wipes probably-sweaty palms on his jeans, picks up every pen in the cup and drops it back in. “Well, the floor is yours.” More silence. His face seems to shift into reluctant acceptance. “Any day now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Okay.”
“I was having a bad day and I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Okay.”
“I still think you’re really mean—”
“Sure, that’s fair.”
“—but I’d like to make it up to you. I think.”
“You sure are thinking a lot. Wanna give those brain cells a break?”
“Fuck you,” he replies automatically. “Here I am, trying to be nice—”
An idea strikes you then. Parts the hazy recesses of your mind like the Red Sea, and it feels like you’ve been struck by lightning. “How were you planning on making it up to me?”
Because he’s not wholly an idiot, Seokjin sends you a pointed look. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
You’re sure your smile looks straight out of a Creepypasta, but there’s an opportunity here, and you’d be a fool to let it slip through your fingers. “Because I just so happen to need a favor, and here you are, ready to dish one out.”
“I never said it was a favor.”
You pout. “But Seokjin,” you whine, “you were so mean.”
One of his eyes twitches. “Why does this feel like a crossroads deal?”
“I think the Grinch felt similar. Right before his heart grew three sizes and he saved Christmas.”
He doesn’t respond right away, and you can almost see the scales tipping in his brain, weighing whether or not it’s a good idea to entertain you at all. Which is impressive, all things considered, because he doesn’t even know what you’ll ask for yet. He could be expecting something humiliating at his expense, or a monetary bribe—you’re pretty certain asking for a date will catch him fully off-guard.
“What do you want?”
“Oh, nothing big,” you reply easily. Twirl your hair around your finger. Bat your eyelashes. “Just a little date.”
Seokjin sputters. “A what.”
“A date,” you repeat. “I just so happen to need a date to my brother’s wedding, and you just so happen to be overcome with guilt. It’s a win-win.”
“We don’t even like each other!”
You click your tongue. “Even better, because I don’t like my brother, either!”
“So this is… what? A game? Some kind of petty revenge? Bring the guy who looks like me to your brother’s wedding to rebel against your parents?”
“Yes, absolutely,” you answer, not even bothering to sugarcoat it. Seokjin doesn’t seem convinced. You sigh. “Look, you can say no. Or I can throw in something extra if it feels unfair—”
“Like what?”
You shrug. “I don’t know, I haven’t had time to prepare a fucking offer sheet, Seokjin. What do you want?”
“Depends. What’s this all entail? Is it a one-time thing or do I have to pretend to be your boyfriend?”
You choke. “My boyf—” But then it hits you: your brother will hate this. Your parents will hate it even more. Without even needing to ask, it’s clear Seokjin isn’t from your world, and if they’re ready to disinherit you for showing up to your brother’s wedding alone, might as well commit to the bit. So you clear your throat and smile again. “And if I say yes?”
“It’ll cost more,” Seokjin deadpans.
You nod, feeling a little like you’re swindling this poor man. “Add it to my tab, boyfriend.”
[THE MEETING]
Finding a date was supposed to be the hard part. Turns out, it’s only the beginning.
Your parents are thrilled and a little stunned when you tell them you’ve secured a plus-one. (So is your brother, but you have better luck with him listening when you tell him to fuck off. It’s a little hard to say the same to your mother and father when they’re dangling a trust fund in front of you like a carrot.) And, in true upper echelon form, they grill you. For hours. Family name, family business, how you met, what their intentions are, blah blah blah. You feel a migraine coming on somewhere around question two.
Eventually, your mother says, “I don’t know about this,” and your father grunts in agreement. You don’t think he’s used full words in years. Not with you.
“What’s there to know?” you whine, nearly rolling your eyes. “I’m not marrying the guy. It’s just a date.”
Your mother flutters around the kitchen, pointedly not looking at you. It’s weird seeing her like this: almost like a real mother, almost like she’s going to say something comforting and serve you a plate of freshly-baked cookies instead of huffing and puffing at everything you say and treating you like a pariah. “Do you even know this young man?”
“Of course I know him.”
“Do I need to remind you that it’s bad etiquette to bring a first date to a wedding?”
There’s a pang of annoyance that you have to tamper down. “It’s not a first date.”
“Oh? You’ve been seeing him regularly?”
This time you do roll your eyes. “Sure, Mom.”
“Don’t roll your eyes at your mother,” your father says, not bothering to lower the newspaper in front of him.
“How did you—”
“Is this young man your boyfriend?”
You think about what Seokjin had said: It’ll cost more. Not, you couldn’t pay me eight billion dollars to pretend to date you. Not, no thanks I’d rather die. Just, it’ll cost more. So, as you sit in this opulent kitchen with your parents and some ungodly amount of Italian marble, you think there’s nothing you wouldn’t pay to make these people miserable. These people, who never saw you beyond a status symbol. That traditional nuclear family tucked behind the white picket fence. Two kids. Golden retriever. Pool boy. Family vacations to five-star resorts, only your parents smiling in the pictures before they abandoned you and your brother with the nanny.
So, no, Seokjin isn’t your boyfriend. Not really. But he’s willing to play the part and that’s good enough. “Yeah,” you answer, and one simple word stops your mother in her tracks and gets your father to finally abandon his stupid newspaper, and just this little bit of power feels nice.
“Oh,” comes your mother’s reply. She shares a look with your father.
Because the patriarchy is alive and well and he loves to play the arbiter, he says, “I think we should meet him.”
And, because you’re not an idiot, you say, “Don’t forget the rule was that I had to find a date, not that you had to approve them.”
With a huff, your father disappears again behind his newspaper.
You: i need another favor
Rapid Onset Migraine: how much
You: shouldn’t my boyfriend want to do nice things for me out of the kindness of his own heart
Rapid Onset Migraine: no
(“Shouldn’t you have him saved under his actual name? Maybe a little heart emoji?” Hoseok asks, looking over your shoulder. “Unless he has a degradation kink, I don’t think anyone’s going to buy that someone named Rapid Onset Migraine is actually your boyfriend.”
“Shut up, Hobi. It’s one of those things that are violently affectionate and ironically cute.” A pause. Then—“Do you think Thunderclap Headache is better?”
“No. No, I definitely do not.”)
You: you don’t even know what the favor is
Rapid Onset Migraine: don’t care
You: fine
You: i would like to formally demand your presence at dinner with my parents this thursday at 7
Rapid Onset Migraine: i’m busy
You: i will literally venmo you rn to cancel your plans
Rapid Onset Migraine: i’m suddenly free. @jin-k92
Rapid Onset Migraine: five hundred dollars please
You: fuck off
You: $50. final offer. take it or leave it
Rapid Onset Migraine: leave it
You: sent. see you thursday!
It’s Tuesday night and you’re fresh off your shift, headed to your car, looking forward to doing nothing but absorbing into your couch and maybe using that new bath bomb, when someone on a skateboard crashes into you.
You’re on your ass before you can process, stunned, staring up at the fluorescent lights of the parking lot. A familiar face enters your line of sight, not looking all that apologetic. “Whoops.”
You groan. “Worst boyfriend ever,” you retort, sticking your hand in the air. “At least help me up.”
There’s absolutely no grace in the way Seokjin hauls you to your feet. Doesn’t bother to steady you when you bobble, either, and you have half a mind to give him the finger. Instead, you say, “Are you stalking me?” and delight in the split-second of panic that overtakes his features.
“No,” he eventually says, expression right back to neutral. “You’ve already agreed to date me. Why would I need to stalk you?”
“There’s at least seventeen different problems with that statement and I’m not going to touch any of them.” You take a second to look him over: no obvious injuries, still obnoxiously attractive. Hair a little longer than usual, rogue strands hanging loose and framing his face. No one should be allowed to look like this. He really, really gets on your nerves. “Why are you here, though? You look fine.”
“I am fine—”
“Uninjured,” you clarify, which earns you a scoff.
“I’m that, too,” he snarks, “but I came to find you to figure out the game plan.”
“Why didn’t you just text me?”
“I was already in the area,” he lies.
“Uh-huh.”
“And I thought I could con you into buying me dinner.”
“What’d you do with the fifty bucks I sent you the other day?”
Seokjin looks at you like you’re dumb. You’re really starting to wonder if you are. “I spent it.”
“On what?”
“Are you my accountant now?” he huffs.
“No, but you’re not my sugar baby, either. Buy your own dinner.”
He bats his lashes at you. “But honey…”
“Fuck off, Seokjin,” you say, stomping towards your car. Unsurprisingly, he’s right behind you, the wheels of his skateboard noisy as they glide along the concrete. “This is why you’re always needing stitches?” you ask, knowing he’s close enough to hear.
“Yep.” A louder noise; probably some kind of trick. You’re not going to dignify him by watching and being impressed.
During your second semester of college, Hoseok had gotten you into this horrible habit of parking far away. So you get your steps in, had been his reasoning, and it’s hard to say whether you’d given in to the 10,000 steps per day hysteria or just Hoseok’s convincing, evil little smile, but you still do it. And you’re really regretting it now, when you have to traipse through a half-mile of parking lot with the world’s most annoying person on your heels.
“Are you gonna take me to dinner, though?”
That’s how you wind up sitting across from him at a diner.
His cheeseburger is demolished in record time. Fries are halfway gone, too, by the time he asks what the plan is and seems genuinely shocked when you say there isn’t one.
“What do you mean there’s no plan?”
“There’s no plan,” you repeat, dipping your own fry into his ketchup just so he has to swat your hand away. “I mean, dinner is at seven, but that’s it.”
Seokjin looks confused, like you’ve tilted his world on its axis. “There’s gotta be a plan,” he argues. “There’s always a plan with you trust fund kids.”
Another dig, and you can tell by the way he avoids your gaze once he makes it. “There’s really no plan,” you say, ignoring the quip. There’s a reason you’ve got a fake boyfriend, and it’s not because your parents are benevolent and easy-going. “I don’t care what you tell my parents.”
“Now I know for sure you’re setting me up.”
You shrug. “Believe whatever you want.”
Seokjin studies you, clearly still unconvinced. “You’re telling me,” he begins, sticking the straw of his root beer float in his mouth, “that I can just walk in there and sabotage you? That I have carte blanche? That I can tell them you literally paid me to be there?” You shrug. There’s a disgusting slurping sound. You grimace.
“Well, I’m hoping you won’t, but I certainly can’t stop you.”
“You’re terrible at fake dating.”
A sigh escapes you before you can stop it. You don’t want to delve into twenty-plus years of parental trauma, especially not with this guy, but sometimes it can’t be helped. “Look, I don’t want to go to my brother’s wedding. I don’t like him, and I don’t like my parents. No one else wanted to fake date me”—you hold up your hand to kill the obvious comment before he makes it—“and, honestly, my parents are gonna hate you and that’s the entire reason I asked for your help. So, no, I don’t care what you tell them, because I don’t care if they approve. I’m sick of them making me jump through hoops just to be their kid.”
Unfazed, Seokjin breezily replies, “You obviously care enough to keep taking their money.”
“I consider my trust fund to be reparations.”
“That why you were so touchy about that nepotism comment?”
Nodding, you fidget with the hem of your scrub top, hands suddenly sweaty. “Well, it doesn’t feel great to have my accomplishments credited to my last name or whatever, but it’s not something I can stop anyone from assuming.”
“Are they?”
“It’d be naive to think they aren’t.”
“You got into med school, though,” Seokjin says, and you tamper down the flush that’s creeping in. You are not going to care about any man’s acknowledgement. “That’s not an easy thing to do.”
“Can you tell my parents that?”
A laugh bellows out of him, and you’re horrified to learn it’s a terrible sound. Everyone in the diner turns to stare, and you’re flushed crimson and trying to duck under the table.
Still, you can’t help but smile. Your parents really are going to have a stroke.
To your delight, Seokjin is good at getting people to hate him. Like, really good—almost scarily so.
He’d shown up twenty minutes late, having ignored the dress code entirely, clad in a pair of ripped black jeans and a plain black t-shirt, arm tattoos and innumerable scars proudly on display. He hadn’t bothered to shake your father’s hand or introduce himself to your mother, just fell into the seat next to you, stage-whispered a, this place is a shithole huh, and stuck his nose in a menu. When the waiter came by, he ordered a bottle of wine older than the two of you combined and the most expensive entree on the menu.
Now, an hour in, your parents are teetering on the edge of a major cardiac event.
“So, Seokjin,” your father says, voice gritty and forced, “what do you do?”
Seokjin shoves a large piece of meat in his mouth, making sure to smack his lips. “What d’you mean?” he asks, the question garbled around the food.
“For a living.”
Scarily good, you think. Seokjin pretends to choke, pretends to look shocked and appalled. “I don’t work,” he answers, tone bang-on to the one your parents use when they’re being condescending. “My parents give me money, and I figured I’d date this one”—he flicks you in the temple—“until she becomes a doctor and can support me. Then we’ll get married.”
Your mother gasps. Your smile is involuntary.
Your father, on the other hand, knocks over his wine glass. Spills it all over the table, goes red in the face, and it’s the most distressed you’ve ever seen him, usually composed to a fault, immovable. “You’ll do no such thi—”
Seokjin fakes a yawn. “You ready, babe?” He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, just stands, tosses his napkin on the table, and grabs your hand. The two of you are out of the restaurant before either of your parents can utter a word.
Feels like one of those movie moments, you think: the cool breeze in your hair, against your flushed cheeks, your hand in Seokjin’s, both of you not daring to breathe or make a sound until you’re safe outside, away from your parents and their gobsmacked expressions. And then you crack, just enough for laughter to spill out, and Seokjin snorts, another horrible sound, and before you know it, the two of you are collapsed against the side of the restaurant, tears in your eyes as the brick scrapes against your skin.
Maybe something shifts. Maybe the smile Seokjin sends you is genuine.
[THE RELATIONSHIP]
Much to your horror, fake relationships aren’t all that different from normal, authentic ones.
Which means two things: one, that your brother and his wife-to-be both received an earful from your parents about Seokjin and The Dinner, and two, you still have to compromise.
The first one wasn’t so bad. Your brother had called you and issued a vague threat, of course, because he’s never had a sense of humor about anything, but you hadn’t answered so it’d been easy to delete the voicemail and forget about it. And, luckily for him, your future sister-in-law was far more lax. Bring him, she’d texted. He sounds like a good time.
You’re not sure you’d describe Kim Seokjin as a good time, but you replied with a thumbs-up emoji regardless.
All of that had been fine. You’re well-versed in dealing with your family by now, so it’s easy to let their bullshit wash over you and down the drain like rainwater.
No, it’s the fake but has to look at least semi-real relationship that’s proving to be difficult.
Because you don’t like to compromise. You want to do what you want to do when you want to do it, and you don’t want to hear about it from anyone. But here you are, doing a quasi-photoshoot with Seokjin so he can “soft launch” you on his Instagram—which, honestly, is a little daunting. He has a lot of followers. Not surprising, considering the way he looks, but the thought of being perceived by hundreds of thousands of strangers makes you feel like you’re wearing your skin inside-out.
“Can you try looking less constipated?” he asks, tone dry as toast as he scrolls through the series of selfies the two of you just took.
You scoff. “First of all, I don’t look constipated.” Really, you don’t. “Second of all, why do you even need to do this? We only have to convince my parents, and you pissed them off so bad I’m not sure they’ll ever ask me to bring a date to anything ever again.”
“Because I have a competition next weekend that you’ll have to go to, and I don’t want anyone asking any questions.”
“What if I’m busy?”
“You’re not,” Seokjin retorts, all conviction. “If I had to clear my schedule for that dinner, you’re free for this.”
“What if I have a school thing?”
Seokjin raises an eyebrow. He’s looking at you, and you’re looking at him through his phone camera. It’s really not fair, the way his face is. “Do you?”
“No, but what if?”
He takes another picture and cackles, gleefully showing it to you. “See? You definitely look constipated.”
With a glare, you wrestle the phone out of his hand and aim it the way you want—the way you know looks good. And maybe you do a little pout, too; do that thing with your eyes that looks seductive and a little dirty. Not because you care about what Seokjin’s followers think, because you’re hot and you know it, but because you want him to suffer. Just a little bit. It’s illogical, the way you want him to look at this picture and feel… something. Half pride, half longing.
So, you angle and pout. Delight in the caught-out expression on Seokjin’s face this time, like it’s the first time he’s learning that you’re hot and that it troubles him a little. “Is that better?” you ask, sugar-sweet.
Seokjin doesn’t respond, just posts the picture to his Instagram story.
Skateboarding has never been your thing.
Your brother had gone through a phase, once. Spent all his allowance on the video games and collected CCS catalogs, spending imaginary money as he’d thumb through the pages and circle everything he wanted. Never bought a real board, though—just developed a superiority complex because he listened to the Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2 soundtrack one too many times and thought it was a legitimate substitute for actual pre-teen rebellion.
However, fake-dating Seokjin means you’re getting a crash course.
“What do these do?” you ask, holding up a set of wheels. There’s an alien holding a bong on them. They make you laugh.
Seokjin eyes you from across the shop and pointedly ignores your question. Instead, the disgruntled guy behind the register answers. “They’re wheels,” he says, tone clipped, which you answer with a surprised noise, like you’ve discovered something new.
“Wow, wheels,” you intone. “Cool.”
Done picking out new grip tape, or whatever the hell he’d said, Seokjin plucks the wheels from your hand and puts them back where you’d gotten them. “Fascinating invention, huh?”
The man behind the register smells like weed. Reeks of it, actually, and the stench is almost overbearing as you sidle up next to Seokjin at the counter. Yoongi, his name tag reads. You don’t think he looks like a Yoongi, because it kind of lends itself to a stoner character, but it also sounds kind of sweet, and the man in front of you looks like he could snap you like a twig and enjoy it.
Then—“Oh, you’re Instagram girl.”
You scowl. “I’m who.”
First, you’re reduced to nepotism and your family name; now it’s Instagram. There’s a huff halfway out of your mouth when Seokjin wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you against his side. You think he’d press a kiss to your temple if this was real. “My beautiful girlfriend,” he says, playfully hip-checking you.
Yoongi looks between the two of you, then pushes the tape back in Seokjin’s direction. “You know you don’t have to pay for this shit, man.”
“Sure, but I can. I have a rich girlfriend now.”
He yelps when you step on his foot with the heel of your boot. “Aren’t you so lucky,” you grit out.
You don’t see the way his gaze softens, but Yoongi sure does.
Anticipation crackles in the air.
Feels like the day you’d sat for the MCAT—that brand of nervous, determined focus, bordering on excitement. Something that will really only go one of two ways with a million variables, and it’s a small relief to not be the one in the hot seat.
Hoseok had been there last time. Now, a man that’s seemingly all limbs plops down beside you, ungraceful and awkward.
“You’re Instagram girl,” he says, before sticking his hand out. “Hi, I’m Namjoon.”
Seems like Seokjin’s idea of a soft launch is anything but. Briefly, you wonder how many more people are going to forego your identity entirely in the name of Instagram, but it’s kind of nice, too—nice to be someone other than your parents’ daughter, your brother’s sister, your family name. There’s a long way to go before the patriarchy is smashed entirely, because it’s not so nice to be newly reduced to Seokjin’s girlfriend, but baby steps.
For now, it’s all right.
For now, there are far worse things you could be.
“Hi, Namjoon,” you finally reply, because he seems out of place and nice enough—nicer than Yoongi, at least. Definitely far less gruff and abrasive.
He chokes a little, like he’s surprised you responded to him. Not for the first time, it’s just sort of par for the course when you are who you are. “Oh, sorry,” he says, cheeks flushing under the guise of the relentless afternoon sun. “I just—recognized you? And couldn’t help myself? Which probably sounds really creepy, which was not my intent, it’s just—Jin doesn’t bring anyone to these things. Like, ever. So it was a little shocking! Kind of like meeting a celebrity? Even though I’ve never really done that, either. Oh! I met Greta Thunberg once. That was cool. It was, like, on accident, though? So…”
On and on he goes, bless him, because he just talks endlessly without expecting a response. You look around: the bleachers are starting to fill up, awestruck kids with humored parents, and you wonder what that’s like. To have an interest in something and have it nurtured, instead of having to live up to expectations you never wanted. Maybe you would’ve been a skateboarder, too. Maybe you would’ve shucked all those societal norms and did something you wanted, even though it doesn’t really matter now.
“Hey,” you say, stopping Namjoon’s latest spiel in its tracks, “do you come to these things often?”
Namjoon lights up like Christmas. People must not ask him about himself much. “Yeah! Well, sometimes? I’m in grad school, so I come when I have time. I thought it’d be a good idea to get two master’s degrees, so I finished my first one—in philosophy, before you ask, which was pretty stupid, because what am I gonna do with that, you know? But I guess it worked, because I had a full-blown existential crisis and decided to get a second one to put off the inevitable second existential crisis over what I was going to do with my life—”
“What was that one in?”
Namjoon startles again, and it’s almost hopelessly endearing. “Huh? Oh, Botany and Plant Pathology.”
You blink. “Plant pathology?”
“Yeah! It’s really interesting, because everything’s connected, right? Like, you can’t really fight climate change and food insecurity if you have all these diseased crops and forests, and I leaned pretty heavily into biological philosophy for my first degree, especially environmental ethics and conservation—”
“...And you come to skateboarding competitions for fun?”
His ears turn red; his cheeks and neck follow shortly thereafter. “I like physics, and skateboarding has a lot of physics.”
Just your luck. “Can you explain to me what’s going on, then?”
Namjoon does as you ask, and takes his job very seriously. He explains the rules and the implications, the rankings and what they mean for the future, who’s who and the major players. He explains tricks as they happen—how they got their names, who did them first, notable events. You remember your brother screaming at the TV the night Tony Hawk landed the 900 at the X Games, and Namjoon’s smile is so bright when you tell him about it.
“Yeah, that’s—that was so fucking cool, man. You know he was 31 when he did that? I think about that sometimes. There’s all this emphasis on aging, this juvenile notion that life peaks in your twenties, that you need to have it all figured out before you’re thirty: the job, the marriage, the house with the white picket fence, and it’s bullshit. I know it’s bullshit, but sometimes I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything at my age, and I just think: Tony Hawk landed the first 900 when he was 31 years old, and now 10 year olds are doing it. That’s fucking dope.”
He’s off on another tangent almost immediately, telling you about how he’d met Seokjin and how they became friends. You hear none of it. Seokjin comes in second place. You don’t remember much of the celebration, either.
You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve been dunked in ice-cold water. Feels a bit like drowning.
You’re good at compartmentalizing.
You have to be, growing up in the family you did. Because Namjoon’s words had rattled you, sure, but you can’t linger on them. Lectures still need to be attended, hospital shifts still need to be worked, and it’d really hurt Hoseok’s feelings if you bailed on your study sessions, so you have to tuck away all those wayward thoughts for later.
Not until you’re alone, tucked into bed far too early for someone in their mid-20s, do you think about it.
Well, it’s less ‘thinking’ and more ‘ah, these are the existential crises Namjoon was talking about.’ Certainly not your first crisis, and it won’t be your last, but it’s still… unnerving. Being a doctor was something you’d always been rock-solid about. You hadn’t wanted to go into business like your father and brother, had no interest in kissing ass in the political sphere and wielding influence like your mother, but you’d been told all your life you had to do something. Something important, something impressive, something worth bragging about—because what were you worth if your parents couldn’t talk endlessly at fundraisers about how much better you were than everyone else?
You glance at the clock: almost two a.m. There’s only one person that’ll be awake at this hour, even though you shouldn’t. Seokjin has one job, and it isn’t talking you off the proverbial ledge in the middle of the night. Still—
You: you up?
Rapid Onset Migraine: this is happening a little fast don’t you think?
You: ??? huh
You: wait no
You: that’s NOT what i meant
Rapid Onset Migraine: yeah sure
Rapid Onset Migraine: well obviously i’m awake
Rapid Onset Migraine: you ok?
You: yeah, i’m sorry to bother you about this
You: i think i’m just having a bad time?
That’s that, you think, because minutes pass without a response. But then your phone’s vibrating, lighting up in your hand. Rapid Onset Migraine flashes across the screen, his contact photo set to a meme of Handsome Squidward just because you’d thought it was funny.
“Hello?”
“Sorry,” he says immediately, “I needed to make a pot of coffee before I had this conversation.”
You hum. The comment doesn’t sting. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink coffee.”
“I don’t,” Seokjin answers. “Well, not usually. Only if I have an early flight or something.”
“Or need to talk through your fake girlfriend’s two a.m. existential crisis?”
“Yeah.” Seokjin laughs, and it’s almost enough of a balm. “But I’m friends with Namjoon, so I’m an expert in those by now. I keep weird hours, anyway, you know? I’m either skating or gaming, so he used to call me at, like, four in the morning because he’d read too much Kierkegaard or Beauvoir and was spiraling.” You hear him take a sip of coffee. He starts sputtering immediately. “Shit, that’s hot. Fuck, I think I burnt my tongue off.”
“Luckily you know a doctor.”
“I do,” he says, and his tone is warm. Almost proud? “Anyway, what’s going on? You read Being and Nothingness, too, or what?”
For a moment, you’re just quiet, trying to think of the words to say. You’re well aware of your privilege, make a conscious effort to not throw it around the way others might, so there’s a lot of guilt that comes with something like this. You know what people probably think: poor little rich girl, with her family money and their connections, it must be so hard to be her. It’s not, and you’re fine, but—
“Did you always want to skate professionally?” you ask, because you figure it’s safe. Doesn’t give it all away, even though Seokjin’s smart enough to read between the lines.
And, to your surprise, he plays along. Doesn’t call you out or press on the bruise, just says, “Hm, no, not really.”
“No?” you repeat, incredulous. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he confirms. “This is really embarrassing, but I wanted to get into software engineering or coding. Whatever would let me make video games.”
“Why would that be embarrassing?”
“Because it’s me?” Seokjin forces a laugh, pure self-deprecation. “That’s the kind of stuff people like Namjoon do. And that’s—it’s fine. I’m good at skateboarding and I get paid to do it. That’s the kind of thing kids dream about, right? Getting paid to travel around and skateboard all day?” He sighs, and it’s broken in a way that’s unsettling and familiar. A sound that could be coming from your own lips. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it and I’m thankful I get to do this as a job, it’s just not what I thought I’d be doing with my life.”
A brief silence, and then Seokjin’s talking again before you can reply, which you’re glad for. Everything feels off-center. “Is that what’s going on? School stress?”
“Maybe,” you admit, still a little breathless. “I’m just… struggling? I think? With knowing what’s actual desire and what’s just expectation.”
“Ah, I see. I don’t think I can really help with that beyond empathizing, but I’m sorry you’re going through it.” Then, like he’s telling you a secret, “If it helps at all, I think it takes a lot of courage to do this kind of introspection. It’s not easy, especially when you’re likely to find things you don’t want to.”
You can’t help but snort, but it’s gentle. Quiet, though still loud in the stillness of your bedroom. “Thanks,” you eventually reply. “Surprisingly comforting.”
“Yah, I’ll have you know I’m a very comforting person!”
“Of course you are.”
“Besides,” he says, and his tone takes on such conviction you’re sure you’ll believe whatever comes out of his mouth next with no hesitation, “it’s fine if you decide this isn’t what you wanna do. It’s never too late, or whatever, but for what it’s worth, I think you’re going to be a great doctor.”
“Or whatever,” you echo, smile creeping up on you. “That makes it sound so easy.”
“I guess it is.”
What’s it like to live like that, you wonder. Completely devoid of expectations, just going with the flow, doing what you want without crippling fear of the consequences. Must be nice, is your conclusion. Life doesn’t work like that for you, and you’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with that, so it’s fine. You’re on a path and maybe it’s not what you would’ve chosen had you had time to look at all the possibilities, but you’re on a path and it’s yours.
You want to say this to Seokjin. You want to thank him, both for the pep talk and the unfounded confidence, but your eyelids feel heavy and he’s just babbling now, something about the first time he landed a tre flip, and it’s soothing. Comforting.
Sleep takes you before you can think about it too hard—think about how Seokjin used to be nothing but a menace, the worst part of your day, and now he’s not.
You’re on another night shift, third in a row, and you’re the kind of exhausted that has you smelling colors.
Nothing makes sense. Your bones hurt. When you think about going home and finally going to bed it feels like when you’re starving and wait too long to eat and don’t feel hungry anymore. Then you finally do and it’s not satisfying, kind of makes your stomach hurt, and the cycle repeats.
Seokjin texts you to check in. After your two a.m. convo, you’re hyperaware of how much time you spend venting, so you assure him you’re fine. He drops off a coffee and some snacks, anyway. Just because he’s already up.
—
There are other hangouts. You don’t call them dates, because that word has implications and meaning and this is fake, but you have them nonetheless.
Overindulgent takeaway, equally expensive alcohol that has sat unopened in your apartment for far too long, shitty movies playing in the background, and Seokjin’s inability to stop talking. He sneakily lobs popcorn at you when he thinks you aren’t looking. This prompts an all-out war, and you both have tears streaming down your faces by the time Seokjin calls a truce.
Just days later, you spread out a gingham blanket in the park. Seokjin makes up bullshit constellations, gives them horrific names and backstories, and revels in the sound of your infectious laughter. When your head feels too heavy to hold up, you lay back in the grass and try to keep your heart in your chest when Seokjin does the same, slender fingers searching out yours in the dark.
You want so badly to kiss him. Want to crash your mouths together and kiss him breathless, but you don’t.
On your third hangout, you cover each other in silly temporary tattoos and take too many selfies. Seokjin snorts at how dumb he looks in the filters and asks you to send him some, immediately setting a particularly couple-y shot as your contact photo.
And if you get butterflies when he posts one to his Instagram story? Well, that’s your business.
—
Seokjin gets the dumb idea that he’s going to teach you to skate.
Which is not only dumb because it’s impossible, but because you’re sure your skeletal system is probably insured for millions of dollars, knowing your parents. You can’t do any of your clinical rotations with broken bones—instant dismissal—and Seokjin knows this, but he’s annoyingly persistent and assures you you’ll be fine, so you relent because you trust him, despite all odds.
Physically, you are fine. Seokjin holds onto your waist and doesn’t let you fall, which is about all you can ask for when it comes to unwanted skateboarding lessons. Emotionally, though? Not so much. You’ve been close to Seokjin before. Enough to feel his body heat; enough to get goosebumps; enough to nearly become delirious with your want to taste him.
Normally that’s fine. But now, as he uses one hand to hold your waist and the other to hold your own hand, you can’t think of a single logical explanation for depriving yourself of more of this. Because he’s steady and warm, and sometimes you teeter and he grips tighter, causing your mind to wander and think about things it shouldn’t. You’re only human, and Seokjin is an otherworldly brand of handsome, so you don’t beat yourself up over it.
Still. It ignites something, that’s for sure, and if it’s anything like Seokjin himself, it won’t be easy to extinguish.
—
It’s by complete accident that you meet Jeongguk.
Well, that’s not entirely accurate. You’ve met him before, at some bougie function your parents dragged you to, but it was brief and forced and awkward. Jeongguk was weird back then. Still is, probably, judging from his entire… presence, now.
He’s dangling upside down from a tree branch when you meet him for the second time.
“Oh. Jeongguk. Hi?”
“Hi!” he says, smile brighter than the sun, and before you can ask him why he’s upside down in a tree there’s a massive camera in front of his face. “Are you here to see Jin?”
Here is a public sidewalk, but you don’t say that. Instead, you say, “I’m on my way home. Why are you in a tree?”
His response is nonverbal, just a finger point dead ahead of you. Some Brutalist architecture leftover from the ‘50s—a large set of stairs, public fountain, weird art sculpture, a small crowd. Doesn’t take long to learn what they’re there for: Seokjin grinds down the rail, lands perfectly, nearly skates into the street and gets whacked by a car. Everyone cheers.
Ah, that explains the camera, too. You vaguely recall your mother telling you the youngest Jeon went to school for filmmaking. She hadn’t sounded impressed. You wonder what she’d think if she knew he was your delinquent, skateboarder, fake boyfriend’s videographer. Probably something aneurysm-inducing.
“He’s so cool,” Jeongguk says, whimsical and dreamy in a way that sounds like he has framed photos of Seokjin on his walls. Maybe his picture in a heart frame, like that one meme. “You’re so lucky.” There’s definitely some jealousy there.
You raise an eyebrow. “You wanna date him instead?”
Jeongguk seems to mull it over. Doesn’t move from his spot in the tree, either, and you reckon he’s got another sixty seconds before you forcefully turn him right side up. “Nah. He seems really happy with you.”
“We’re not—” Together, your brain finishes, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. So you cough, hope Jeongguk hasn’t caught it, and say, “Yeah, we’re not doing too bad,” instead.
—
“I think you’re too far gone, personally.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. What does Hoseok know? Okay, he’s probably the smartest person you know, but that’s medicine. He hasn’t had a long-term partner in years, so yeah, what does Hoseok know.
“I am not,” you insist, because the majority of your time in this library has been spent defending the validity of your love life, not studying. “Hobi, look.” You sigh, snapping shut your notebook. A migraine is forming just thinking about the amount of reviewing you’re gonna have to do at home to make up for this. “Does it really matter, in the grand scheme of things? Life is fleeting and we’re all inconsequential, so I understand why you’re grilling me on this and not the MLE review book we paid for—”
He pulls a face. “It was fifty bucks! You’re acting like I’m out thousa—”
“Not the point!”
Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut. Pinches the bridge of his nose. Presses his fingers deep into his frontal sinus points. “I think it not being the point is the point, though? None of this was necessary. You could’ve just brought him to the wedding without having to pretend he’s your boyfriend.” You move to protest. He waves you off. “I know you wanted to get back at your parents. Your parents suck, so I get it, but don’t you think this is a little much?”
“How?”
Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to sigh. Put-upon, like he’s a beleaguered parent talking to a very idiotic child. “Uh, how about the fact that the two of you are going on actual dates, for one? And they’re definitely dates, so I don’t want to hear it. You took him to a Michelin star restaurant, quote-unquote, just because.”
“I was hungry!”
“Sure, okay, whatever you say.” He throws his hands up, clearly defeated, and it settles all wrong in your gut. Hoseok gets mad, sure, but never at you. Not even annoyed. “Have you given any thought at all, even considered just a teeny-tiny bit, that this might not be as fake as you think?”
“No,” you retort, petulant, because it is fake and you don’t need Hoseok to tell you that.
But Hoseok is smart, you know, so you were never going to get off easy. “I think you actually like him.”
“I know. You’ve said that a hundred times.”
“And I’ll say it a hundred and one, if I have to. Fuck, your head must be made of concrete.”
“Could be,” comes your breezy response. “Maybe that’s why my mother hates me.”
Hoseok chokes. Knocks his tea over and onto the MLE guide, which prompts a distressed shriek from him and a harsh shushing from the rest of the library.
So much for it only being fifty dollars.
—
Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi does leave his skate shop, which comes as a shock for a man who has severe cavedweller vibes.
“Hey, Instagram,” he says, smelling like actual cologne and laundry detergent instead of a dispensary as he stands behind you in line.
Yoongi is clearly talking to you. You know he’s talking to you, but you still pause, fragile like a deer caught in headlights, and look over your shoulder as if he could be talking to anyone else. “Uh. Hi?”
He squints. “You are Instagram girl, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I thought so, but you looked at me like I was the one who’s stupid so I wasn’t sure.”
Did he just call you stupid? “Did you just call me stupid?”
Yoongi shrugs. “What’s good here?” he asks, changing the subject. He definitely called you stupid.
“I—most things? I don’t know, I always just get a cold brew with oat milk.”
He grimaces. “Ew, gross. I’m gonna go grab a table. Grab me a medium iced americano.”
You order him a small, purely out of spite, and Yoongi doesn’t come to this coffee shop often enough to know the difference so he doesn’t even notice when you set it down in front of him. Takes all the satisfaction out of being petty. He must know. “Thanks,” he says, not looking up from his phone as he unwraps a straw and stabs his drink perfectly in the center.
“Sure. I’ll send you a Venmo request.”
“Oh, I don’t have Venmo.” He finally looks up. “Are you going to Jin’s thing?” All he receives in response is a blank stare. “The skate comp. Second qualifying round for the big championship event? Surely he’s told you about this.”
Let no man ever say you’re a bad liar. “Ah, yeah, of course! Med student brain. It’s all memorizing neural pathways and… stuff… and forgetting skate competitions.”
“Hm,” comes Yoongi’s response, and he quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t question you further.
(You bring it up to Seokjin later, expecting him to laugh it off, extend an invitation out of obligation. Instead, he laughs in a way that sounds fond. Says, “Yoongi beat me to it,” in a way that brings his scarlet red neck and ears to the forefront of your brain, and follows it up with, “I’d really love it if you came, but I understand how busy you must be right now,” that has your skin flushing all the same.
You’re loath to make promises, but sometimes they’re easy.)
Time is not on your side.
You barely make it to Seokjin’s second competition. Barely have your ass in the bleachers, hairline dotted with sweat and anxiety coursing through you, before he’s dropping into the bowl for his first run.
He’d mentioned it offhand. Told you it wasn’t a big deal if you couldn’t make it, because he knew how busy you were with school and that you needed to study because exam season was relentless, but he’d looked so relieved when you joked that it wasn’t so easy to get rid of you, that you’d be cheering him on from the first row. That being anywhere else just wasn’t an option.
And that had… taken you aback. Watching him skate is a good enough distraction for all those thoughts. You don’t have to dwell on the whys: why the thought of sitting in your apartment, nose stuck in a book instead of being here, had been so unconscionable. Instead, you’re able to focus on him, which is almost worse. Because the way he looks—wind pushing his hair back off his forehead as he skates around, calf muscles flexing every time he kicks, shirt fabric darkening under a light sheen of sweat, smiling at kids and the countless people he knows—is a little overwhelming. You’re winded for two reasons.
It’s a beautiful thing, watching someone do something they’re passionate about. Seokjin especially, but you’re biased. You want only good things for him.
His first run finishes. He chews on his bottom lip as the judges huddle together. Numbers flash on the scoreboard. Good—great, even. You know what the stakes are: score high enough and he’ll advance to the championship. More sponsors will fall in line. Someone will present him with one of those comically large checks that he’ll probably spend on god-knows-what at Yoongi’s shop.
More skaters follow. Highs and lows. Seokjin watches them all, enraptured, just as happy for their successes as his own. Someone bails out right next to him, arms out to break their fall, making a sound an arm should never make, and Seokjin’s there right away. He’s good.
Except the universe doesn’t always reward goodness. His second run starts off well: smooth as butter, impressively technical. Seokjin is fluid when he skates. Makes it look easy, like you could hop on a board and do it just as well. You watch him, but you almost like watching everyone else watch him more: the wide eyes, the whistles under their breath, the nods of approval. Seokjin’s got all of it, truly thrives on the admiration. He’s good, he’s good, he’s good.
You know it’s coming. That trick he’d told you about—the one he’s never been able to land during a competition. The one that’s gnawing away at him. He’s going to try it, and you’re holding your breath as he kickflips, grinds his board along the rail, does some kind of dismount that looks absurd and impossible to your untrained eye.
Then he’s on the ground.
He’s still for a second. Huffs in frustration. Back on his board before you can blink.
Seokjin’s not a child, but you know it stings. You’re overwhelmed by the urge to comfort him, the way he’s done for you countless times, but you shouldn’t so you don’t. The two of you don’t talk until after, and by then it might not matter.
It isn’t until he’s about to drop in for his final run that he scans the crowd. You want to believe the look on his face when he spots you is relief, but it’s painted over in a nanosecond. He smiles, smug but content, and then he’s shoving his helmet back on his head, clapping someone on the back, and he’s off.
Maybe the universe does reward goodness, because everything goes right this time.
Seokjin lines up to attempt the trick again, because if he’s going to go out it’s going to be on his terms. Completely unshakeable, the kind of attitude that gets plastered on those bullshit inspirational posters about falling down nine times and getting up ten, and you wonder, briefly, if it’s stupid. A good score would be enough to get him through, but he wants to do this.
And he does.
Everyone around you erupts as soon as the trick is landed. Seokjin calls the run early—just a handful of seconds left, anyway—and his fellow competitors are on him immediately. Someone picks him up in a bear hug and spins him around, and the joy on his face is so pure, so unbridled, that you almost cry.
But the wait is torturous. His second run had gone so poorly and those in the top spots had done so well that it’ll be close, even with a gazelle flip under his belt. Nothing is certain, and the way you can barely bring yourself to look at the scoreboard is proof enough. Seokjin is good, and you want only good things for him, and you can barely look at the scoreboard but you can’t look away, either—
The roar of the crowd is deafening.
A freeze-frame moment. All around you, there are fists in the air, shrill yells of Seokjin’s name, maybe a chant, nothing but chaos. You can hardly hear yourself think, but you can see just fine, and what you see is Seokjin’s gaze locked on yours. The corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. A flicker of hesitation before he’s gracefully shrugging everyone off of him and making his way over to you, and then it’s just reflex. Here, you know what to do.
You barely flinch when he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in.
Everything is soft. Feels a bit like floating.
Seokjinnie: do you wanna come over later?
Seokjinnie: i can either cook or get takeout, your choice
The apartment is small and you love it because he kisses you at the door. Seokjin has lips you want to memorize, so you kiss him again as he pulls away. The two of you kiss for a long time: throughout the “tour,” which is just the large studio space and the bathroom, all over the kitchen as he finishes cooking, until he exaggeratedly pulls out your chair, until you have to shove food in your face to keep your mouth off of him.
Seokjin has the kind of lips that leave you questioning if it’s really this easy.
Because Hoseok had been right: this isn’t fake for you anymore. Hasn’t been for a while, if you’re being honest, and maybe before this would’ve been a realization that scared you, but this doesn’t. Not when it’s Seokjin. So, yeah, maybe it is easy.
“Wait,” he says, chest heaving, gently pulling away from you. “Before I—wait, I have to talk to you about something.”
You just smile, hands still grazing over warm skin. “I think I already know.”
He stills. Takes a few seconds to reboot his brain before he’s smiling, laughing in a way that almost sounds unhinged. “God, yeah. Yeah, me too. But it’s—not that.”
“What, then?”
Immediately it’s clear this is not going to go well. Seokjin sighs, tilts his head back against the arm of the couch. His neck is gorgeous, littered with marks from you, but you gear up for a fight nonetheless. “The competition,” he says, as if that’s enough explanation. “The final round got pushed up.”
Your stomach drops. You know what’s coming, but you still ask, “To when?” because you’re a little bit masochistic. Because maybe you’re itching for the fight. Itching to say see, I told you so, I knew this was never going to work, because it’s always been fake. Itching to hurt, because you want what’s familiar when you hurt.
“Saturday.”
The day of your brother’s wedding. “Of course.” You snort; the universe loves a good dose of irony.
He sighs again. Looks so genuinely distressed that you find it hard to truly be upset. “I’m sorry. I just found out today.”
“It’s fine,” comes your instantly reply, auto-generated. Some silly, naive part of you refuses to spiral, stubbornly convinced you can salvage this. You’d found a date. That was the rule. You’ve done exactly what your parents asked of you, and you think with a rueful smile that they’ll probably be relieved when you show up alone.
But Seokjin’s not convinced. There’s still turmoil painted across his face—some silly, naive part of him clinging to something stubborn, too. “I’m going to ask you to be there.”
Yet another freeze-frame moment. The part in video games where it’s clear you have a very important choice to make, neon signs practically blinding, saying you better choose right, better not fuck it up. But you’re going to. You’re going to say no, and it’s going to hurt Seokjin, and you have about ten seconds to come to peace with that.
“I can’t.”
To his credit, Seokjin doesn’t look surprised, and you think that might be more painful. He’d expected nothing from you and you still let him down, so his snort is sardonic and derisive when he says, “Of course you can’t.”
And your tone is defensive and disbelieving when you retort, “What’s that supposed to mean? What exactly do you expect me to do here?”
“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t expect you to do anything, I’d foolishly hoped you’d say yes.”
Your jaw drops. Snaps shut when you swallow around the lump in your throat, because you’re not going to cry at not living up to another set of invisible expectations. “It’s my brother’s wedding, Seokjin. It’s not some small thing I can blow off.”
“Is that it?” he challenges, eyebrow quirked, expression bemused. “Or do you not want to lose your precious little trust fund?”
“Are you serious? Of course I don’t want to lose it, but I—”
“You don’t even like your brother,” he continues, giving you absolutely no reprieve. No chance to catch up, catch your breath. “You don’t even like your family, but I guess you like their money. Nothing was ever gonna be more important than that, huh?”
“That’s not fair, Seokjin.”
He hums; knows you’re right. Doesn’t try to get in anymore jabs, but he looks broken. “I don’t think this has been fake for either of us for a long time. It was stupid to think you’d go against your family on this, but I thought maybe, for me—”
“Again, that’s not fair.”
“I know it isn’t fair,” he shoots back. “I know that. I just…” He rubs his hands over his face. “I can’t skip this, and you’re not willing to skip yours, so I don’t—I don’t know what to do.”
“I can just go alone,” you say, because it seems simple. “I already did what they asked, so I can just go alone. It’s fine.”
“It’s not like that for me.”
You’re stunned into silence. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s irrational, but it’s… the principle. For me. I’m never going to match up, you know? I’m never going to be from your world. I can make all the money in the world doing what I do and I’ll still never come close. So I had this stupid thought in my head, like, if she comes then it’s real for her, too. It means something. If she’s there, we can figure it out.”
“And that’s the only way? It’s only real if I do this one thing? Doesn’t matter how we feel?” You laugh, exasperated, and you’re up and halfway to the door. “That’s bullshit, Seokjin. How am I supposed to live up to these expectations you’ve got of me if you never tell me what the fuck they are? You know, that’s—this is exactly what my family does, and you—you know that, what the fuck.”
“Hey, no—”
“I can’t belie—” Things go all glassy. Crystalline. You need to get out of here. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. I’m sorry.”
“Wait—”
You press harshly into your eyes. You’re not going to cry over this. “Good luck, Seokjin.”
[THE CHOICE]
Things come full circle during another two a.m. crisis.
You’d stared at the ceiling. Scrolled mindlessly through your phone. Ignored Seokjin’s texts and thought about texting Hobi but decided it wouldn’t be fair and instead went cross-eyed watching some questionable late night paid program. Tried to disregard the crippling weight on your chest. Couldn’t. Thought about what Namjoon might do, because he seems well-versed in these sorts of crises, and looked up Sartre quotes on the internet. Got as far as one and quit, both because it hit too close to home and because all you can think about is your last two a.m. crisis.
Seokjin’s voice had been so soft. It wouldn’t have that same tenderness if you called him now and that stings, knowing you had a good thing, something velvet, and you let it go.
And still you think about Namjoon, about the ethics of conservation: when to preserve and when to let die. Does preservation ensure survival, or does it stave off the inevitable? It all gives you a headache, because nothing is guaranteed but that doesn’t mean you don’t try.
Jimin goes to Milan. Taehyung posts a selfie looking sad and beautiful on some balcony in Paris. You don’t want to be like them, doing some perpetual song and dance. Resisting an obvious thing.
Your brother answers on the second ring.
“Hello?” Groggy and confused. A voice you’ve heard a million times that still feels indistinguishable from a stranger’s.
“I can’t come to your wedding.”
A moment of silence, both literally and for your trust fund. “Uh, okay.”
“I’m sorry,” you rush out, because it feels important to say even if you don’t necessarily feel sorry. “I, uh—I am sorry, because I like your fiancée and I know this is probably a huge inconvenience considering your wedding is in a few hours, but I can’t—”
There’s some rustling. You don’t think you’ve ever talked to your brother in the middle of the night before. “It’s really fine.” He yawns. “This couldn’t wait ‘til the morning, though?”
“Not really.”
“Alright. Why do you sound like you’re about to have a panic attack?”
A lightbulb moment: he doesn’t know. “I am. You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“That Mom and Dad threatened to cut me off if I didn’t show up at your wedding with a date.”
More silence. Then, slowly, the trickle of laughter. Just a quiet snort at first, and you’re a little confused, wonder if you should be laughing too, if he’s laughing at you, and then it compounds until he’s nearly in hysterics. “Oh my god.” He’s almost shrieking. “Holy shit. That’s why you brought that guy to dinner, isn’t it? The one they hated?” It’s the first time you’ve heard him sound like this.
“Yeah.”
“That’s fucking hilarious. Fair play.” You wonder why you’ve spent two-plus decades hating this man on the other end of the line. “Okay, then. Why can’t you make it?”
You talk until you’re hoarse: about the competition, the fake relationship that hasn’t been all that fake for weeks, about the trust fund and growing up under the weight of your family’s money and expectations and always coming in third behind societal ass-kissing and your brother. You’re not looking for an apology but you get one anyway. A heart-to-heart in a moment that’s not entirely built for one, because the sun is coming up and your brother is still getting married in a few hours even if you won’t be there to witness it.
“All right, I really gotta go, but listen: I’ll talk to them, okay? And I’m rooting for you. Maybe in a few weeks you and Seokjin can come over for dinner, if it all works out.”
“Yeah, sure.” You agree readily, and it’s nice to have someone that shares your name in your corner. “I’ll make sure he behaves.” Your smile drops, chest cracked in half. “If it works out.”
Your brother says goodnight and wishes you well. Hangs up, and the silence is deafening and consolatory. You think about the Sartre quote again: Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.
Whatever happens, you think you’ll do just fine when it’s on your own terms.
Perhaps naively, you expected the day of your brother’s wedding—and subsequently Seokjin’s competition—to be gloomy. Of course, the weather is perfect. Mid-70s, light breeze, cloudless blue sky. When you’re wounded everything feels like an attack, so maybe before it would’ve felt like the universe was mocking you, saying look how beautiful and intact the world is when you’re falling apart, but you see something else.
You’d done a lot of thinking. Soul-searching and introspection and all those uncomfortable, vulnerable things you and Seokjin had talked about before, and you’ve made it to the other side, so a cloudless blue sky on a beautiful afternoon doesn’t feel like an attack. What you see is clarity being reflected back at you.
But it still takes a lot of courage. Instead of putting on a stunning, designer dress and painting on a smile to pacify your family and anyone else important enough to be granted entry, you’re pulling on normal clothes and normal shoes. It doesn’t matter if your hair and makeup are done. Everything feels wrong for a moment, like you’re forgetting something important, and you suppose that’s normal. This is arguably the biggest and most consequential decision you’ve made thus far in your life. No wonder you’re out of sorts.
Normally, this is where you’d compartmentalize. Tuck all that discomfort away for later: a problem for Future You. But that had been your go-to for years, and it did nothing but turn you into an emotionally constipated mess, so you’re done with that—trying to be done with that. Which is fine, because you don’t have a plan, not really, but sometimes it’s enough to simply show up, so that’s what you’re going to do.
Rejection is likely. You’re smart enough to know that, and you’re mature enough to accept it, if it comes down to it. But you don’t want Seokjin to feel rejected. Not again. That’s more important. So you’re going to show up, heart on your sleeve, and if he rejects you, fine, but you’re going to be there. And you’re going to cheer when he wins, even if your voice is drowned out.
Another packed event. It helps to feel anonymous when your sympathetic nervous system is working overtime like this. You’re trembling by the time you find a spot—a little out of the way, no room left on the bleachers. Seokjin probably won’t see you here, wouldn’t think to look, and it’s okay. You’re here for him but you’re here for yourself, too. Just to prove you can. Just to prove that you’re still human.
It all goes by in a blur. The skaters you don’t recognize, some you do. Scores that are both meaningful and meaningless until they aren’t. Seokjin’s name gets called and your stomach drops, but it’s okay. You see Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jeongguk, all nervous energy and bit fingernails and cautious smiles. They don’t see you, but it’s okay.
Two runs happen in a nanosecond. Seokjin holds steady in third. The guy sitting in first falls on his final run, and it’s best of three so you’re not breathing easy yet but your fingers start tingling with anticipation. The guy in second does well but nothing good enough to improve his score. Your phone’s blowing up in your pocket. Presumably your brother’s told your parents by now, and you can wait just a little longer to get cut off. What’s in front of you is more important, it is, and you know it when—
Call it divine intervention, but Seokjin looks up just as he’s about to drop into the bowl. Looks right at you, and the tingle spreads from your fingers all over. Another freeze-frame moment; the two of you are getting good at this.
He smiles. He wins.
Feels a bit like falling in love.
As always, thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤
#btswritingcafe#thebtswritersclub#btshoneyhive#btscarnivalnet#bts imagines#bts scenarios#seokjin imagine#seokjin x reader#jin x reader#seokjin x you#jin x you#bts fanfiction#bts fic#seokjin fanfiction#jin fanfiction#seokjin fluff
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Voyager rewatch s2 ep6: Twisted
Okay but I actually love this one too. It has all the things you could ask for in an episode.
It starts off with an adorable birthday party for Kes on the holodeck, with the crew coming together to celebrate and give her presents and teach her about human birthday traditions, awww. Neelix even grits his teeth and doesn't go on a jealous tirade when Tom gives Kes a locket. (Wow, what a concession Neelix, to not yell at your girlfriend on her birthday! What a catch you are! ugh.)
Meanwhile, back on the bridge, they spot a space anomaly (because of course they do) and as usual, they poke it with stick (brilliant) and then get caught in it (as you do).
It seems as though it'll be a standard 'go back to the bridge and launch a probe at it/phaser it/do funny particle beam stuff to it' episode, but no. The senior officers can't get to the bridge; they keep being taken to other parts of the ship instead. At first it's comical, but then it turns serious as the crew figures out the ship's configuration is being altered around them by the anomaly. The sense of impending doom builds slowly and steadily as more and more of the ship is affected. Throughout, we get lots of wonderful character scenes as they slowly realize that time may be running out, and they say things they've wanted to say to each other in case they don't get the chance again. Captain Janeway tells Harry she's proud of him! B'Elanna calls Harry 'Starfleet' again! Even in the confrontation between Chakotay and Tuvok, it was nice to get some acknowlegement that yeah, maybe they do still resent each other in some way, but they both know they have to put it aside for the sake of the bigger picture.
The crew finally ends up trapped together in a walls-closing-in scenario that's genuinely quite intense. There's many Star Trek episodes where the whole crew almost dies, but they usually involve frenetically working to avert a warp core breach or defeat an enemy ship in a battle- the kinds of situations where no one has time to sit and reflect on the fact that they might die in the next few minutes. Having them all sit together, and wait together, knowing these could be their final moments, is a heartbreaking, but very moving moment. You see the love between them all spelled out so clearly, and it gets to me every single time I watch this episode. They're not just people thrown together by necessity anymore, they're a family now. <3
(And of course they don't die in the end!)
Tl;dr: An excellent episode that builds to an intense climax, while still making time for moments that give us insight into the characters and their relationships.
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Klaus x reader
Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Marshall the younger sister of Hayley Marshall. Side note I love Hayley one of my favorite characters. Basically Y/n will be pregnant instead of Hayley and I will be changing some things up but then that it should stay pretty close to the series. I hope you enjoy the story! Also, if you like I have a Castiel x reader
Paring: Klaus x reader
Word count: 1,932
Warnings: Some language, Typical the Originals violence, Spoilers for season one of The Originals, Pregnancy
I got the divder from
saradika
Chapter 5: Fruit of the Poison Tree
POV (Y/N)
So Elijah came back. “We just came back from the bayou and Rebekah poured us some drinks. “ I don't care if we have to get you a leash, that was your last trip to the Bayou. What is it with you and those wolves, anyway? “ Rebakah downed her drink with that one. “Hayley and feel like we're connected somehow. I don't know. Maybe it's just some pipe dream that we have of finding any real family out there. But sometimes, when I feel like it's us against the world, it keeps us going.” I knew Hayley agreed with me. “Well, if you ask me, family is a pain in the behind. And as for being in it alone, how dare you? I don't ruin a perfectly fabulous pair of boots traipsing through the Bayou for just anyone.”
In her own way, Rebekah did care. “Thanks, Bex.” Hayley thanked her and it was nice to see her trust someone else than me. When Bex was downing her second and Hayley her first Klaus walked in. “Nik, finally! What—” Elijah was behind him. Bex and him hug in a tight embrace never wanting to let go. “Elijah! You're safe! Now that you're home, is your first plan to kill Niklaus? “ “Excuse me just a moment. “ He walks to go see Hayley, which is properly good because she is pissed. Rebekah goes back to drinking and once again it’s just Klaus and I. “So did the two big bad wolves find what they were looking for today?” He said with his usual annoying but good wit. “Ha ha very funny. And no I know there is something out there I just don't know what that could be, connected to us.”
“Well, love you don’t have to go all out to the smelly Bayou to find family, it's inside of you now.” He gestured to my stomach. He was right if anything Hayley had a niece and I had a daughter waiting to meet us. “Speaking of her I wanted to show you something.” I brought out the ultrasound photos. “I managed to save these before we were almost witch stew last night.” He looked at the photos in wonder like he could actually believe that he was having a child. He had no words. “I know I had the same reaction.” I smiled. “Thank you, love.” He tried to hand them back.
“No these are yours, plus I have my own. I would like to eventually get a locket for it and you deserve to have a picture of our little girl.” He looked up to me and moved closer like was about to hug me when Elijah walked back in. “Ohh Elijah I am so happy you're alright.” I moved to hug him. “How are they?” “Well, they is a she, and she is doing great!” Klaus left the room with a smile but a bit of jealousy also. “A baby girl! Oh, that's Studepedus Y/n!” “Thank you Elijah really.” “It's an honor Y/n.” That's when I noticed the bit of red stinge on his cheek. “I see my sister welcomed you back with open arms.” “Yes, well I did break my promise.” “But you didn't mean to, my sister has had a lot of people let her down.” I tried to explain her behavior. “And you didn't?” “Growing up in the foster care system you get used to it pretty quick.” “Welcome back Elijah.” I bid him a goodnight.”
Since then everyone has been a little tense and that is not helping with my pregnancy. I walk into the living room and what I see makes me almost puke. “Uhh If you guys are going to have a lively breakfast can you do it not in a ten-foot radius of me.” I held my bile back while talking. I sat down next to Klaus while taking out some chips. Elijah got up and took them right as I was about to bite into them. “Hey! That’s my breakfast that doesn't have a pulse well used to.” I said looking at the body in disgust. “I will return with an actual breakfast for you.” He goes to the kitchen not only for my food but to talk to my sister. I looked over to Klaus and he had on a stupid smirk from me being mad from the chips being taken.
“What are you reading?” “A poison tree? What’s it about?” “Nothing that would be interesting, love.” “Ahh, I don’t know Klaus. I was top of my english class and I read at my high school graduation so I'm pretty good at old books.” “Really graduation speaker! Smart and beautiful.” I turned my head and blushed. “Would you have gone on to do something with that?” I did not expect him to ask that. “Umm before Hayley and I came here I was thinking maybe something with social work I would want to make sure kids never went through what I did.” I felt some tears rise but I pushed them back down. “Well, Y/n after we cut the string between you and Sohpie you love you can do anything you want.” I stared into his eyes and I couldn't look away. But then Elijah walked back in. And we backed away. “Oh, thanks, Elijah!” I grabbed the eggs and bacon from him in awkward silence.
A little later I went to look for Klaus again but all I found was Rebekah. “Hey where did your brother go?” “The one that always causes trouble or the one that is falling for girls with a face like your sister’s.” “Ha the first one.” “They both went to go fix this thing between you and Sophie. And I was left to babysit you and Hayley.” “Oh well might as well make the best of it. Have you ever learned how to make pie from scratch?” “Do I look it?” “No but there is a first time for everything so let's go!” “Hayley kitchen!”
“So this is how you roll the dough.” “Can’t we like I don’t know do anything else.” Both Hayley and Bex were not stoked to be doing this. “Guys I know this is not as fun as drinking or eating seafood which I can do neither right now so I am doing something I know I have control over so I hope you enjoy this as much as I do.” I could hear their eyes rolling. “And I want to make some for Elijah to welcome him ba- OW WHAT THE FUCK!” It felt like a quick stabbing pain with lava filling my veins. Both of them drop their rolling pins. “You ok!” Hayley turned me to her in concern. I touch my neck and I see blood. “I don’t know” I turned my hand to them and they had the same expression on their faces that I did.
I had to sit down after that and try to get it off my mind. Bex comes up with an apple for me. “Oh, thanks.” I took it not really wanting to eat it which is weird because I'm basically always hungry. “Please do me a favor, and don't die on my watch. I'll never hear the end of it.” “You know when I first met you, I thought you were a real bitch.” Hayley walked in saying that. “What changed your mind?” “Oh, I still think you're a bitch! I've just grown to like that about you.” We all laughed and it was it felt like we were starting to become friends.
“Aw, well, that's sweet of you to say. Remember it when I'm gone.” “Bex Gone? Where are you going?” “ I only came to town to make sure everything was okay with Elijah. He's fine, and he hasn't punished Klaus for daggering him, so... as usual, they'll be thick as thieves, and I'll be left to clean up the mess. It's time for me to fly the coop.” “Well, Rebekah if you're not here for your future favorite niece's birth lll-” Suddenly I felt awful. “What's wrong?” she felt my head. “I dunno, probably morning sickness…” It was like summer but 100 degrees more in my body. “Oh, you're burning up, actually.”
I had ten Ice packs on me AC full blast and I was still boiling. “Stop fussing, will you? Elijah will be here any minute.” “I feel like I've been thrown in a toaster oven.” I groaned. “Hey! Just because you're carrying a baby doesn't mean you get to act like one! I'm sure my little niece is healing you up as we speak.” I hope so. Elijah and Klaus with Sohpie run in. Sohpie sends Bex a list of herbs to help me. “Bex wait.” She kneels down next to me. “Thank you.” “Of course now you just rest.” I nodded in agreement.
While waiting the temperature kept rising. Please please to whatever is out there don’t take her before I've even met her. Klaus sits down next to me.
“Well love, I knew I was hot but not this.” “Ha ha, that was a terrible dad joke.” “Did it work?” “A little” “Good.” “Look Klaus if I don't make it tonight-” “Don't say that you will be here tomorrow to have morning sickness again.” Sophie runs in. “Guys, let's go!”
We go out to the pool. Sophie gives me some herb water to drink. Klaus feels my head. “AHH!” “ She's burning up! We need to do this now.” “Get her in the water!” Klaus leads me in the middle of the pool. “Her temperature is sky-high. The water, with the help of the herbs, should cool us down. You're going to have to get her heart rate down.” She said to Klaus. “How do you bloody suggest I do that?” “Hold her. It's a natural human remedy to slow the heart rate and reduce blood pressure.” Klaus picks me up and this is the closest we've been since that fateful night. “I can't breathe!” I screamed out, the pressure was building. “Okay, long deep breaths, Y/n! Look at me. Long deep breaths, just focus on the sound of my voice. You'll be okay. You'll be okay. Love.” He guided his hands to my face to look at him. And suddenly it's like the pressure exploded in me.
“AHHHH! AHHHH!” Then it stopped. “I just felt it lift.” “Klaus I'll be okay!” I hugged him and he hugged back. “Yes you'll be love. Lets go.” We start to get out of the pool. “Ive got to go okay.” “Okay.” And he speeds away to kill the bitch who placed this evil curse on me. “Elijah... he'll kill Agnes. I know you don't owe me anything, but please, don't let him kill her.nElijah! She's our only access to the power we need to survive. Promise me that you'll stop him!” “It's me, where are you? Don't hurt her. I'll be there shortly. make you one last promise. I won't let my brother kill Agnes.” He goes. I start to walk out of the water and grab Sohpie. “Sohpie, If my baby is hurt at all or if you ever try that again I will rip you apart.” Hayley has a towel for me and we walk in.
I was waiting outside for Klaus near the pool feeling the cold air when I heard a branch snap behind me. “Hello? Hayley? Mysterious wolfs?” I turned and I heard a swoosh and I turned back and all I saw was darkness.
I loved writing this it was so fun! We also are getting more into the relationship between Y/n and Klaus. Also excited for the next episode thanks for reading.
#klaus mikaelson#klaus x y/n#klaus x reader#elijah mikaelson#the originals#hayley marshall#tvd fanfiction#tvd klaus#marcel gerard#rebekah mikaelson#hope mikaelson#tvd universe#Y/n marshall
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Hi! I love your writing so much and i hope you are having a good day ❤️ so i was wondering if i could get some Mikan x platonic!reader where the reader always looks out for her when she trips and helps her with anything they can etc, and meaning to confess their love for her? I love Mikan and I heard you like her too
so i can't wait to read your writing:)))
I'm glad you enjoy my writing. I certainly hope I don't disappoint. -Mod Kokoro
Mikan x Reader who looks after her and confesses!
Mikan Tsumiki activated your protective side since day one of you meeting her. From how she constantly apologizes for just existing, to tripping and falling in a very embarrassing pose, you knew something wasn't right. So you took it upon yourself to watch over her, and do your best to protect her from anyone and anything that could try to take advantage of her. This typically involves catching her before she falls and scaring off Hiyoko.
Everyone came to know you as Mikan's protector, and it was widely understood that those who tried to hurt Mikan would suffer the wrath of S/O.
Now, Mikan actually greatly appreciated this. She was grateful to have someone who cared so much about her like this, and wouldn't bully her, and instead look out for her. How you'd always help her with anything she would need, always caught her before she could fall. How anytime someone tried to harass her, you'd immediately scare the daylights out of them and make them regret it.
Every time she forgot something, you always had a spare for her to use. Every time someone bullied her, they'd be met with a fierce reaction that can range from terrifying death glare to shoved against the wall and beat up.
Over time, you couldn't help but develop feelings for her. You grew to fall in love with her and wish to be with her. The two of you became inseparable. Mikan was actually rather obvious, constantly blushing around you, eager to hug you and hold your arm. She'd look at you with dreamy eyes and always be enthusiastic to spend time with you.
So you decided it was time to officialize things. You wanted to be able to call Mikan your beloved girlfriend. You decided to buy her a heart-shaped locket, silver with deep purple lettering that read "Love." In the locket was a picture of the two of you under a Sakura tree, petals in your hair and smiling together.
You took out your phone and called.
"Hey, Miki. Are you free right now?"
"S/O! Yes of course. I'm always available to spend time with you."
"Can you meet me at the botanical garden we saw last week? There's something I have to tell you." You were blushing, realizing you'd truly go through with this.
"That sounds lovely! I'm already on my way. Meet you there!"
You hurriedly made your way there. As luck would have it, the garden was going to be empty besides just the two of you. Waiting patiently, you went over in your head what you were going to say when Mikan got here. You looked at the perfectly wrapped gift in your hands. You couldn't help the nervousness you felt in your chest, but you knew deep down she felt the same. It would only be a matter of mere moments before you'd finally, truly be together.
"S/O!" That adorable voice called out, as she came to hug you. You hugged back and picked her up, spinning her around.
"Hehe! I'm so happy to see you." God she was so cute.
"I'm really, really happy to see you too. There's something I want to give you, and something I have to tell you." Here we go.
"O-Oh? What is it?" She looked at you attentively.
"Mikan. You're special to me. You've become the most important person to me in my life, and I've thought about you a lot. Everything about you is amazing to me. I've thought over all the times we had together, and everything we've done. I've come to realize that, out of everyone in this world, you're the one I want to spend my future with. I love you, Mikan. You mean the world to me. ' You pulled out the gift and held it out to her.
"S/O....." Mikan teared up. You knew they were happy tears.
"I love you too, S/O. You make me feel truly safe, and loved. You're perfect. You're everything I have ever wanted and needed. I love you more than anything. More than life itself. I want nothing more than to be with you for eternity." Mikan confessed back. Before you could even respond, she pulled you into a loving, passionate kiss.
You wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as you shared a beautiful kiss together.
"Please, open this. It's for you." You reminded her of the gift.
"Oh, I bet it's something wonderful." She began to carefully unwrap it. Her face lit up at the sight of the locket. She cried another tear of joy at the picture inside.
"S/O, this is so beautiful!"
"Thank you, I'm glad you love it." You helped Mikan put on her new locket.
The Sakura petals fell gracefully from the tree around you, as the sunset gleamed marvelously in sync with a kiss between you and your beloved Mikan.
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~ More than anything ~
Pt.1
Stalker!2012 Donatello x Stalker!Female reader.
Not proofread. Im so sorry-
_______________________________________________________
You're walking home at night, getting home from a party your friend was holding at her place. You check your phone for notifications, your friend had held onto it so you could 'distance yourself' and 'live a little'. Whatever. Who needs to live when I have all the people I actually care about right on one screen! Instead you spent 5 hours at a party with many couples surrounding you. Making out, groping eachother. They should get a room, gosh. You see many texts from your best friend, Donnie.
Donnie<3: Y/N where are you? 9:12 PM
Donnie<3: I went by your house and you weren't there 9:34 PM
Donnie<3: Im worried sick about you 9:46 PM
Donnie<3: Please just respond 10:27 PM
Donnie<3: Please don't ignore me 10:35 PM
Donnie<3: Dont make me use the tracker I put into the T-Phone! 11:52 PM
Donnie<3: A party? Really? You know how dangerous those are. Especially for someone as pretty as you so late at night! 1:49 AM
You'd forgotten about the tracker, but how he knew it was a party confused you a bit. Nobody had told him about it and you didn't see him there. Whatever. You feel so bad for him. Such a poor anxious innocent soul. You shoot him a quick text to attempt to ease his mind.
Y/N<3: Donnie, im so sorry. I meant to text before I left but I forgot. I promise to text next time. Sorry, D. 2:03 AM
You get an immediate reply
Donnie<3: Star, you had me worried out of my mind! 2:03 AM
Y/N<3: I knowwwww. Im sorry. I swear on everything I am ill try to pay attention more 2:04 AM
Donnie<3: Good. Get back to the lair. You need sleep. I'll grab us snacks.
You smile down at your T-phone. He'd always been so considerate. Especially towards you. He'd always know where you are, who you're with and what you're doing. Just to keep you out of trouble of course. You'd always been so trusting of others.
You walk to the lair. You look around you to check if anyone sees you. You see a familiar set of white glowing eyes. You ignore it, figuring he's just out on patrol. Opening the manhole cover and hopping down, you make your way towards the lair. You arrive and all of the boys greet you. Mikey gives you a big hug and you pat him on the shell. Leo and Raph are busy training or doing something along those likes, you never really cared to ask. You walk too the lab and Donnie is waiting at the door for you. Wasn't he just- nevermind. It was probably just your imagination. He hugs you and rubs your back, murmuring against your hair about how much he'd missed you.
"Its been way to long, sunshine" He says, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. You look up at him with an eyebrow sarcastically raised. "Donnie, I saw you yesterday" He replies with a smile "Yeah, thats what I said. Too long" *you roll your eyes. He lets go of the hug after a solid minute. He does the usual. Shows you everything in his lab. Every new invention or project. Or just random small things he'd been tinkering with to pass spare time. He pulls out a small box from a drawer in his desk. "I hope you like it. I spent days on this" You take the small box into your hands and open it. Its a necklace with a few charms and a locket. You notice how its not metal that would make your skin turn green from wearing it too long. He spent time and actual money into this. You open the locket and see a picture of the two of you that Donnie had taken about a year ago. In it, you were asleep on the couch, my head leaned against donnies shoulder. There are a few charms. A purple turtle and two hearts. One a simple love heart and the second a realistic human heart. Both out of Sterling silver. You look up at him with a wide smile. "Donnie... I don't know what to say. Its lovely" He gently puts it around your neck. He smiles as he sees the colors of the metal against your skin. Though, the picture in the locket. You don't remember him going to your house. Like, literally ever. You always went to the lair. So how did he get that photo? You're sure whatever the answer is, it is perfectly rational. You had most likely just forgotten. He continues to ask you questions about the party. Like who you were with, what you were doing, what you drank. He knew all of this already but he couldn't have you know this though. He was just kind, sweet Donnie. He'd never do something as demented as to stalk his best friend. At least, thats what he believed you thought. In reality you knew the whole time. You knew he was around. Even when you couldn't see or hear him, you could feel him around. The thickness of the air, the soft scent of his cologne that according to his brothers, he only started buying after he'd met you.And you absolutely adored it, you loved it more than anything. The attention, but only because it was from him, little did he know, you we're just as obsessed with him as he was of you. This could go so many ways, who knows where this deranged dynamic duo will go.
#tmnt 2012#2012 donatello#donatello x reader#use of y/n#tw stalking#but like consensual?#female reader#This is my first fic please be nice#Yall I wrote this at 3 AM. have mercy on me#ive never written before-
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Aemond and Aegon brat taming lannister daughter oc. (Not their daughter BTW they ain't related)
Made by me but requested to be brought back by: @elegantsplendour. Here you go my friend.
This will likely be a short story and contain around maybe 10 chapters but I hope yall enjoy.
Warnings: Dub con non con mean mc mc being a bitch and poking fun of Aemonds eye and spankings, mentions of sex and actual sex, ass fucking, orgasm denial and humiliation and slut shaming (tho they both quit that once they learn she is not the whore they thought her to be) mentions of owning dangerous protected animals (Mc owns a lion) (YES THAT'S BAD OK WE SHOULD PROTECT ALL ANIMALS!!!!!) MC HAS A SHOPPING ADDICTION. (This is not meant in a funny way she uses it to make herself literally be happy. I have the same thing so I know what I'm talking bout)
Mc when she is challenged (Basically picture a blonde mini Blair)
Aemond: (once you call him a charity project)
Aegon: (once you call him a drunk)
Mcs mother.
And Twyin if he was alive, describing Aemond and Aegon:
It's another bloody hot day in the hell called Kings landing. You and your friend, Harmonia Beesbury, just watch Criston Cole, and one of the princes fights in the yard. The king had three sons with the new queen, but they could take your head, and you wouldn't know their names.
They are going at it, completely lost in their little fake battle. Men. You don't understand.
Harmonia does. She has a smitten blush over her face with two glazy eyes. Cole and the prince circle each other like savages and also destroy a good shield. Which is likely paid with your family's coin. Savages.
You'll never understand men: They pretend to play war when there is no war, they fight in wars when there are wars, and if there aren't any wars: they make sure there are. They are so eager to die, and for what? To create a legacy? To become a legend? Most of them won't even be mentioned.
You whine a bit by your best friend. You like to shop. It makes you very happy to purchase new things. 'Harmonia; I've seen plenty. Shall we go do something useful and pleasant? Instead of watching this savagery?' You suggest.
Harmonia pouts a bit. 'I'd like to watch them finish.' Of course, she does. Harmonia is stuck with her nose in a book every moment of every day. For her, this is probably her ultimate fantasy, two knights fighting for her hand. Except they aren't fighting for her hand, just lame training.
Your eyes roll, and you sigh. 'You enjoy yourself doing that, I have an appointment in town.' You don't. But she doesn't know that, does she?
Harmonia sighs but follows along, grabbing your arm. 'Fine, fine.' She says. You grin. A Lannister always gets her way.
You two walk to the gates where another Dornish guard carrying the name Cole waits for you. It's ser Criston's bastard-born son, Mesan.
'Lady Lannister, Lady Beesbury' He says with a nod. You scoff at him. How dare he even look at you? He is filth. Harmonia gently greets him back with an innocent smile, but you lean in and try to keep your grins hidden.
You nod to the prince.
'Bastard, watch out. It seems like your father has found a new charity project to support.' You nod to where Cole applauds for the prince who bested him, pride written over his face. You see Mesan's jaw clench, and his eyes harden. You grin before leaving the keep, but not before you watch Mesan confront the prince.
---
You sit in the newest boutique in King's Landing. They just had your size done, and now you are fitting necklaces when the seamstress works on dresses.
'Leyonara, that was very unkind. Prince Aemond and Ser Mesan are not charity projects.' Harmonia says when you try two red with gold necklaces.
Your poor friend must be so confused. 'I didn't ask about them; I asked: what necklace looks better on me? The one with the golden locket or the heart one?' You say, ignoring her comments about the one-eyed charity project or the bastard.
Harmonia sighs. 'I'm serious, Leyonara.'
'Well, hello serious. I'm Leyonra.' You dryly say. 'I didn't come here to bitch about boys. I came here for a nice new necklace that will get me lovers and a new enemy.' You say.
'Prince Aemond is worth your respect. He is your prince. That you are a Lannister doesn't change that at all.'
You feel a bit icky just thinking of that one-eyed silver-haired man.
You decide on the locket. The heart is too soft. You add the Locket to your growing collection of jewellery. There is nothing a good shopping won't solve. 'He is not. I don't know why he is not sent to the wall yet. He is a waste here. He will never be king. Neither will his brother. At least Aegon has two eyes to make up for it.'
'Leyonora! They're our princes. We should treat them with respect-' You feel your lips curl but hide it very quickly when you drop the necklace in a jewelry box.
You turn around to face her and just see how worked up she got from your harmless argument. There is no question or doubt about it. You can read her very well. 'How long have you been in love with that mutilated monster?' You grin.
You try to calm it down but part of you finds it so ridiculous that she of all people fell for that....thing.
You go on. 'You know he will never marry you? He is royalty. He has to marry for his house.' You say, teasing but it works.
'I'm not stupid!' She growls nearly shouting at you. You lean in and grab her by her throat suddenly. You don't choke her, but you want her to understand you.
Your voice is thin as ice and cold as stone. 'Good. Get rid of those feelings. We are not men, dear. We will likely be married off and Aemond isn't exactly an option.' You don't want him to be.
Harmonia's big blue eyes soften.
'It's nice to fantasize, not? I mean...He has become handsome.' She touches a necklace as well. It's a silver one with a big blue sapphire.
You suppose?
You never really thought about him that way. 'He is forbidden. No need to dwell on him. He will only destroy your reputation and bring ruin to your house.' It's for the best to be like that. If you don't reach for the stars you will never fall.
You do see her heartbroken little face and feel bad instantly. A bit. You hope she knows you mean well. 'Come, let's pick a new necklace for you. I heard Aemond likes sapphires. Do you want a necklace? My treat.' She looks at the necklace she has been toying with since you entered this place.
'I'd be so embarrassed if he knew why I'd worn it.' You can imagine. It would be so embarrassing.
But the bigger part of you hates the thought of her holding back because of him. 'Fuck him. If you like to wear it, you wear it. He is the prince, not a god.'
'Alright...'
--
That night you enjoy a nice big cake. In your dream. Shirtless servants feed you and you count your diamonds happily...
Until there is a hard knock on your door like someone tried to personally hurt it. One of the newer servant boys enters and quickly bows. 'Lady Lannister-'
You cover yourself and scream at him. 'By the Seven! Do you wish me to die from a heart attack?!' You scream at him. 'I am not properly dressed! Do you know I could have your eyes poked out for this?' You continue berating him and even grab your golden lion statue that stands next to your bed ready to smash his brains in.
He gawks.
'I'm so sorry my lady, you have a visitor. That's all.' He scurries off.
You sigh. You get out of bed and put on your robe made of golden silk and brush your hair very quickly. You apply some light blush and put on earrings before leaving your room.
Inside your study, two men are waiting for you. You instantly feel the tension rise. One of the two is the charity project you insulted. The other is the brainless drunk you also insulted many times.
Aemond wears his usually black clothing and is busy inspecting your desk. Touching it and everything. You will ask them to clean it later for you.
Aegon waits on your sofa, toying with a pillow. You will replace that, just in case. 'I assume there is a good reason for you two to be here at this ungodly hour of the night?' You speak directly to Aemond. He is easier to insult.
He looks at you.
You hope he looks at your necklace and not your breasts. 'New necklace?' A very transparent desperate attempt.
You scoff, covering yourself even more. 'What do you take me for, a simpleton? Explain yourselves, or I will have you removed.'
Aemond chuckles at your threat. 'Hm. There are rumours you said something very improper about us.' He makes it sounds like you were complimenting them or fawning over them like some smitten girl.
You quickly clear it up.
'Don't flatter yourself, I was just insulting you.' You will not have them think you think of them. No. Not at all.
He blinks with one eye, very displeased. 'That's what I was referring to.' He says. 'Something about...a charity project? Did you know what was said, Aegon?' He asks his brother, but you just know he knows very well.
Aegon thinks, but surprisingly enough, he does remember something. 'Something about you being better off at the wall. How we were both useless, but at least I still had both my eyes. And she called me a drunk.' And so what? Where is the lie?
The other prince smiles sweetly at you, tilting his head a bit. 'Oh yes. That was it, indeed.'
They woke you for this nonsense. You regret not having your lion with you. 'Do you want me to apologise for hurting your feelings? Do you want me to take it all back? Maybe get on my knees and beg for forgiveness?' You suggest, sarcastic and mockingly.
'No.' Aemond speaks firmly. 'We have something else in mind.' You try to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your head and just keep calm. He comes closer and grabs your chin, touching your face when leaning in closer and closer. You feel your cheeks become red but don't pull away. You won't give him that satisfaction.
'What is that, exactly?' You ask, leaning in too so your noses can nearly touch. As can your lips. You can nearly taste the wine he had hours ago and it tastes so good just from the smell.
'Punishment.' You freeze.
'What?' You laugh. 'Punishment? Who are you, my father? My husband? My Septa? You don't decide when I have Punishment. You can't punish me I'm an adult.'
'I am very certain I can and I will. The question is: Will you make this easy and lower your Punishment or will you disobey and add to it?'
You understand finally how serious he is.
You look at his sitting brother. At him. At his daggers. And finally at the door. Aemond follows your gaze but he is never prepared for the kick you give him before running off. Aemond curses before following you.
You scream. A guard opens the door quickly and sees you and Aemond fighting. Well, Aemond dragging you and you just clawing at his face. 'Get him off of me!' You groan.
Aemond stares the guard down. 'I am your prince. Get out of here. You saw nothing. Understood?' He loses his patience and hits you across your face. You knock to the ground and feel your split lip.
The guard nods and leaves. You still scream at him enraged. 'No! You're supposed to protect me! I fucking pay you, you brainless imbecile! You worthless street rat!' Aemond chuckles.
You groan.
'I hate you!' You groan as he pulls your hair. 'I hate you, I hate you!' You don't want Punishment. It sounds scary and very unpleasant.
Aegon chims in.
'You'll accept it sooner rather than later. I think we'll start with a nice spanking to warm up. Then we can think of all the fun and dirty ways you will apologise to my brother and me.'
------
Twyin if he saw his ancestor alive and slowly getting closer to two royals.
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#dark aemond targaryen#house of the dragon fanfiction#dark aemond targaryen x oc#aegon ii targaryen#dark aegon ii targaryen#dark aegon ii targaryen x oc#aegon the drunk#brat mc#brattaming#dom Aemond targaryen#dark!#head the warnings#dubcon#possible triggering content#She/her reader#AFAB Reader#DarkFantasy#Possible noncon#Possible gore#Old work
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Lots and lots of thoughts and theories on Hades 2 so far. My Greek geek is overflowing and I have no where else to hyperfixate so here you go. Apologies in advanced and I’m so excited! (and will def be disappointed by the theories that don’t come true but that’s just the life)
First off, I definitely think Melinoë came after Zagreus reunited their parents and the sequel is set eons after. Time and the development process works different for gods so it could def be plausible. I’ve seen people saying she’s the older sis or that she’s been a secret the whole time, and while those are fun to think about, I don’t think there’s any way that’s gonna be the case here.
People call her Mel the same way they called Zagreus Zag.
Zag was STOKED to be a big bro and Mel loves him (even though she groans when he bear hugs her).
Persephone and Hades being relationship goals and they better keep them being lovey to each other and their kids. I’ll be so disappointed if they try to make it “edgy” by giving her a bad upbringing or having her been abandoned. Give me all the healthy relationship representations!
And of course, an updated portrait! Maybe as like a locket or picture frame in her bedroom at Hecate’s since we won’t be in the actual house.
I just really really want to see Mel loving her family. I hope she’s awkward and kind, but kick-ass and ready to kill for those she loves.
One of Hecate’s main stories is how she witnessed Persephone be stolen and helped Demeter search for her. I like to think that with the revised “kidnapping” story that the game does, this will also be revised to reflect Hecate and Pers being buds. Maybe she thought Pers got stolen and then helped her out when she realized her friend had fallen in love. Maybe she even helped construct Persephone’s home on Earth so she was hidden from everyone?
There is this blurb in the description referencing her affiliation with the Underworld, so hopefully that’s what they’re going to talk about.
Either way, Aunt Hecate.
It does look like in the trailer Mel calls her (or someone, I assume it’s Hecate) “Headmistress”, so I guess she’s maybe at a boarding school for witches? Idk how I feel about that, but again as long as she was raised with her awesome parents and bro, that’s all I care about for her backstory lol.
I mean, it could just be that Hecate is training her, similar to how Zag calls him “Master” Achilles because he was his teacher. But the “head” mistress part heavily implies that there’s going to be more mistress teachers, so that’s why I’m banking on a boarding school.
Also hope they reference Mel’s nightmare affiliations as well instead of just leaning in on the witchcraft stuff. It feels very heavy on the witchy stuff so far and the only thing that’s really referencing that part of her is the arm and leg (I’m guessing). I just hope they make this a big part of her personal journey since she is the “bringer of nightmares and madness”.
Would love to see her constantly fighting with this aspect of herself. Have her be sweet and kind and just wants to do good in the world and everything she touches turning into madness. I wanna see her fight to figure out how to flip this “curse” of hers around.
With that, it’d be neat to see like the Oneiroi and Morpheus, or other dream/nightmare related characters.
A dream realm would be sick!
I feel like it’s going to be similar in story mode to Zag’s where we’re just dropped into Mel’s story after it’s already started. Either the issue with Chronos and Hades happened after she started her school with Hecate, or she’s at the school as a result of.
If they don’t do this^, I’ll be surprised but not disappointed. I just can’t see them putting us through a backstory/training storyline. I feel like one of the cooler parts of Hades is the fact that you just drop in and slowly start to figure out what’s going on.
Aunt Nyx. Or at least some reference to everything she’s done for the fam.
GAIA (she could be like the Chaos equivalent)
Give me Mel descending into the Earth, into Gaia’s realm for some treacherous boons. It would be cool to show her having a real conflict with how she feels about her involvement in both using Chronos to kill his father Uranus, and then “helping” Rhea and Zeus kill Chronos. But now helping Mel because she’s her great-great-granddaughter (or triple great, depending on how they handle that incest bucket) and also knowing her son is cray.
Moons used in the same vain as Nyx’s Darkness, or something that is a call to Hecate’s three moon symbolism. I see that a lot of her design already has some references to moons paired with the sickle so that’s already pretty cool.
Same with like herbs/potions or stuff to collect for spells or levels up. It looks like there’s going to be a “magick” element to restore.
Hecate’s black dogs. Give me all the floofers.
And of course Cerberus being on guard as she gets to the gates of Styx. And I’d be down with him being a cuddle monster just like with Zag. (this will also depend on the storyline of the underworld and house and how Cerbs has been effected by Chronos, but a girl can dream of her giant three headed Clifford making a reappearance)
I do see the giant frog (her familiar, maybe?) and Mel giving it cuddles in the trailer. From the looks of it, that seems like her bedroom, so that’ll be interesting.
And since I consider this a direct-ish sequel, the Olympus family members will all be backing her up (which the game description does imply it as well). Maybe we’ll see some repeats for boons, but I kind of hope we get some new people and just some references to the OGs or special guest appearances.
That being said, give me Grandma Demeter again BUT transformed into a spring or summer version to show her transformation of having her daughter back and newfound family. Give her a new look and badass boons that rep that. Don’t go lazy on me supergiant.
Since we’re getting Apollo from the OG lineup, let’s see Hestia and Hera too with some badass boons. Give me fire and peacock emblems.
Hephaestus as the Daedalus equivalent. He’s too busy to meet in person but he gives you some kick-ass weapon upgrades.
Zagreus running Hades and not being happy about it. (again, depending on the story sitch. I just love the idea of grumpy responsible Zag lol)
Or Persephone, since she is the Queen after all.
And if that’s the case, then Zag could help Mel in some way. Idk if I’d want him to be a boon exactly, because there’s others that I’d want to see before him.
Either way, I definitely don’t think Zag will still be trying to escape out while this is happening. That’s another one that’s funny to think about and make memes of, but I’ll be very disappointed if that’s actually the case. I want to see the whole Hades fam in an uproar and fighting like hell to save Hades and the Underworld.
Or if Persephone isn’t running Hades (or maybe even if she is, whatever, again just depending on the story) it’d be cool to have her be a boon giver to her daughter. Her keepsake was sick and I’d love to see how powerful her boons are!
I hope we still get new and alt weapons with references to all kinds of fighters and witches, and maybe some ancient titans. It’s already exciting to see the sickle used for ref to Chronos.
In that same vain, seeing other myth or famous story references with the weapons the same way we saw before, with like Arthur’s sword, Lucifer’s gun, Gilgamesh guns, Beowulf shield.
Also how they brought in Nemesis using her sword aspect, I hope they bring in a couple of the other Greek characters that were named in the aspects using their weapons. Like Eris, Talos, and Chiron.
It’d be cool if they incorporated Selene in there too since she’s the Moon goddess and Hecate is all about them moons. (I just have a soft spot for Selene)
Selene could also be likened to a Chaos equivalent where Mel ascends to the moon or something. I still love the Gaia idea but this could be neat too.
Or seeing some more non-dark/night gods and seeing some like super cute bubbly bright ones that are like crazy deadly. Like imagine Iris, goddess of the rainbow, giving you crazy destructive boons to kill your enemies!
Also give me some more famous witches and enchantresses who help Mel out, or maybe who she has to fight, like Circe, Medea, Calypso.
It does look like in one of the screen shots there’s some odd looking creatures in the (what I’m guessing is) witch boarding school. So maybe it is related to Circe?
I hope Nemesis is used in a similar way as Meg (or even Thanatos kinda), where like maybe they’re fighting but over time they end up growing on them. Gotta love enemies to lover!
Same with Moros. And please have him bitch (but also idolize) about his more popular big bro Thanatos lol.
Speaking of Moros, in the trailer it looks like theres a super long scroll next to him and he says “there’s an opportunity for you”. So I wonder if he’s going to be like a Charon equivalent where you buy things from him or something like that.
It would also be cool to have some friendly Titans as side characters as she makes her way down, like maybe Prometheus or Atlas.
Some more heroes like Atalanta (give me a female heroine I beg you), Jason, Perseus, Bellerophon.
There does look like there’s a handsome unnamed character in the lineup that wasn’t in the trailer, and he’s exuding loads of hero pompousness lol so that’s my guess. Just not sure which he’ll be, prob Jason or Perseus if I were a betting gal. He looks too posh to be Hercules.
Or some hero-adjacent people like Hippolyta (Amazon Queen), Helena (of Troy), Cassandra (cursed prophet), Medusa, or Pandora who are pissed with what happened to them or want revenge. Idk, might be far fetched for this but you love to see it lol. (also didn’t intend for all those examples to be girls, but it’s funny how that ends up, ain’t it?)
Other mythical creatures that might be more earth related like cyclops, giants, Pegasus, chimera, sirens, griffins, etc.
I’ll be interested to see how they incorporate the time aspect with Chronos. I wonder if it’ll be like a time loop and that’s how they emulate the “dying” aspect from the first game. I hope there’s some time related items.
Please for the love of the gods, make dick jokes about Chronos castrating his father and the variation in myth of how Zeus then did it to Chronos. Like, I get it if it’s too cringe to outright talk about, but if they don’t make SOME reference to either, I’m calling cowards.
An equivalent to the fishing feature, maybe planting seeds or something dream related. Just give something cute and fun again.
Also having some crazy ideas of even another sequel. Especially if this one ends up being on Earth or focusing on the middle plane and getting to the underworld, how awesome would it be for one day having like another sequel where you actually get to fight through Olympus. Like maybe a backstory for Hades would be cool, of how they rose to power and he made it all the way to Mount Olympus just to draw the short stick and get sent back down.
Ok I’m done for today. Carry on with your lives and I’m sorry again for this long post showing up on your feed.
#hades#hades 2#hades ii#Melinoë#Zagreus#Persephone#Hecate#hades supergiant#supergiant games#hades game#hades 2 game#Greek#greek mythology#mirth rambles#theory time#the hubs can only take so much#so that’s why I’m here lol#also just realized the way they spell chronos#who I usually spell Cronus or Kronos
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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #79
It's very late here, so today's letter will likely be shorter than normal. But even though I'm very tired, I still wanted to make sure you knew that someone out here is thinking good things about you and wishing for nice things upon you.
My mind is still fairly empty today. I feel pretty tired for a variety of reasons. Some of it is the simple fact that we are going through the second part of your story, and I'm VERY worried about how things might turn out for you; I really don't want to see you get hurt, but at the same time, if you don't stop making choices that harm others, you will need to be stopped. And that's unfortunate, because I would much rather see you turn yourself around and try to become strong in the real way, instead of parroting the definition of it that was taught to you by people who didn't care about you.
The bulk of my reasons for being tired, though, is other stuff going on in my world that I can do absolutely nothing about. And a small amount of it is still me trying to recover from our long trip, and some of it is the recent changes in the social dynamics of my immediate circle. Maybe I'll try not to worry about it. Maybe instead I'll show you the most recent cups of tea I made, since… y'know… I can't actually pour any for you, much to my immense dismay.
…To give you the pictures of the tea at its most beautiful and interesting is the best I can do. And the fact that it is the best I can do is… sad, really. I'm sorry.
I had intended to go to the grocery today to get the supplies to make stuffed cabbage casserole; I was sent a beautiful-looking recipe by an awesome human being from the internet, and I wanted to give it a try. But my energy was very low today. Br offered to be a body double, and she visited, and it was wonderful. We talked a lot about various things, but I still didn't have the energy to go out before going to see R, and for various reasons, I think neither did she. I'm glad we decided to spend time at home though; it was peaceful.
Br went with J and I to go see R today though, and it was a good time. We stopped somewhere to pick up a couple of snacks, and we did some catching up with R. R is an astounding baker; I wish that you could try the things that he creates. He made bonbons for us, and peanut-butter-banana bars with chocolate chips and walnuts, and they were absolutely wonderful. And we also went out to a Thai place for food. I can't help but wonder if your world has some equivalent of Thai food somewhere. I'll show you what we got:
Have you ever had crab rangoon? Pork belly? Rice pudding? Pad Thai? Did you like them? I wonder what you think. I wonder what you think about a lot of things, actually…
There's so much I wish I could show to you. There's so much I wish I could give to you. So many things I wish you could do and see and try. I wish that you could see the world through my eyes for just a moment… just for a moment. And then maybe you'd see that although the world is broken and has a lot of pain and a lot of problems, it's still not so bad. It's really not so bad. Not everyone is mean like the people you met. And even though a lot of things might seem really weird right now, it's never hopeless. There are good things everywhere, if only you have the courage and strength to look around hard enough.
It's for this reason that I hope you'll try to become strong in the real way. Please try. Please try so that you can come back home to us. We miss you.
I'm exhausted, so I'm going to stop writing here, because if I don't, I'm going to ramble even more than I have already.
Hey, Sephiroth? Don't forget that there are people who love you out here. People who don't care about your status, fame, or whatever else, but rather… people who will make you a new locket if you lose your old one. People who will make you pumpkin soup if you're sad about missing out. People who will make you things like garlic bread and pasta. People who will make you little trinkets like music boxes and trees made of gems and songs made only of human voices. People who will write you letters just to try to show you that you're cared for. I can't be the only one out here who is like me… if only because you are a little bit like me, and you exist, even if it's only in an abstract way.
…Is any of what I can do enough though, I wonder? Enough to reach you? Enough to move you? If you don't turn around… will it be because I didn't try hard enough…?
…Maybe these questions are ridiculous. Maybe I really am just tired. There's so much that I don't know… and sometimes that scares me.
I can't wish you were here in good conscience, because things where I am are looking pretty bleak sometimes. But I can instead wish that you could be somewhere safe, wholesome, and happy.
I'll write again. Though I'm not sure what about.
Your friend,
Lumine
#sephiroth#ThankYouFFVIIDevs#ThankYouFF7Devs#ThankYouSephiroth#final fantasy vii#final fantasy 7#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy vii crisis core#final fantasy 7 crisis core#final fantasy crisis core#ffvii crisis core#ff7 crisis core#crisis core#ff7r#final fantasy vii remake#final fantasy 7 remake#ffvii remake#ff7 remake#final fantasy vii rebirth#final fantasy 7 rebirth#ffvii rebirth#ff7 rebirth#final fantasy 7 ever crisis#ffvii ever crisis#ff7 ever crisis#ffvii first soldier#tea and snacks#tired musings#wholesome
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Capt. Arjun HC's
I was conflicted whether to make HC's of Scarlet or Arjun, well, I never made any on Arjun, so I thought I'd make of his first!
- Arjun was born in a Marathi-Punjabi family, his mother being a Marathi and his father a Punjabi. So, Arjun has two birth languages, but the most prominent one is of his mother's.
- Arjun is likely a reserved person, who doesn't prefer telling anyone trying to know his backstory of how he became a Captain.
- Solitude doesn't affect the Captain at all. Not at once. Unless you have Commando Aditya planning with his friends to group with Arjun and have a friendly, enjoyable conversation. And guess what? Arjun secretly likes it!
- Surely, Arjun is someone with a bad temper, and his face says it all. He does scold his teammates when they lack in some skill or do some mishap in between training, especially mocking them for not doing much effort. But the commandos don't take his words seriously and instead take the initiative of working harder, and it works.
- Arjun doesn't show much emotions, unless you are his wife, or a closest friend whom he can rant his feelings about. If he cries in front of you, it means he truly trusts you in bursting out his thoughts he pushed down for a long time.
- During his Lieutenant days, Arjun was a quite more sane and decent person, before meeting the tragedy in his life. The whole behaviour and personality of his changed into a whole different shape, thus making it harder for others to dive inside his mind.
- He wakes up at 3 AM in the morning, getting himself ready and making the soldiers go for a morning run under his supervision.
- If anyone had the most strong and detailed body in the group, it is of Arjun, and it's surely a fact.
- He has scars, on his upper back and one on his lower stomach. He was likely stabbed during the missions he had been present in and it gives him a little trauma if you ask or remind him about them.
- His poker face? Emotionless but serious. No one knows what's going on in the Captain's mind, but it's assured he does think of something that works in the future meantime.
- Arjun sometimes prefers to have conversations with Colonel Kulshrestha, incase he wants some useful advice.
- He's really aware and cautious about his surroundings. He can understand when danger might take place and when he has to act towards it. Like when he was with the 141 and found out that Graves wasn't their ally all this time, his mind created a strategy on how to take down the Shadow Company for a short while so that the others could escape. Arjun's intellect is very straightforward, something a rare being can possess.
- Arjun likely has hopes for all his teammates, but he finds a hidden talent inside Commando Aditya, and he did show it to him during his training where Aditya had to face off his Captain.
- Arjun sometimes keeps a locket in his pocket, that actually has a picture of his wife, Kavya. And a pen that he keeps in his drawer but never uses it. One doesn't know for what purpose he doesn't but for Arjun it holds a deeper meaning, and he wishes not to reveal it to anyone unless necessary.
#oc#oc headcanons#original character#my oc#indian oc#cod#call of duty#cod mw#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw22#call of duty modern warfare 2022#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty oc#captain arjun#task force 141
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So here's my Kuro Shinigamis x Miraculous Ladybug Au
I actually have a lot to say about this but imma just keep it short and snappy
The shinigami corp is now a superhero corp, training and dispatching miravulous holders instead of reapers. Depending on how good you did in training you'll get a stronger miraculous. Undertaker, the once in a generation prodigy, got the black cat but eventually grew bored of the monotonous work and deserted, taking the Miraculous with him. Only with Grell, next generation prodigy, they finally got another on his level and she earned the Ladybug. Dispatched to find and catch the stray cat her loyalty to the institute is challenged by Undertaker not only understanding her struggled but also being hot.
Yes, i ship it and you just gotta deal
I unfortunately don't have names for their gero personas. I think Undertaker can stay Undertaker bc graveyard cat? But idk
References and more info dumping under the cut
Just mishmashed these iconic poses together for the cat boy
I just had to shorten his coat and hair and boom, perfect outfit for him. The locket chain turns into little bells bc who needs to be stealthy. Bc he doesn't wear glasses his mask covers his mouth and i made it follow his scar bc i thought that'd be cool. Yes he has actual cat ears. With his super long nails included under his suit his hands don't look human and i love that for him
Kept Grell's silhouette for her outfit bc she's too iconic not to. Also her hair is shorter to see any of the design. Butler Grell is here bc i took the wispy hair from that design to stand in for bug like antenna. Yes she still has shark teeth i will rather die than take those away from her. Her mask is kinda in the shaoe of her glasses with two spots overstepping the shape to stand in for her cool skull beaded chain to hold said glasses. She has black eyes now, i swear i can explain . Instead of the chain she has at her hips that's where she parks her jojo weapon now
A pic of the show miraculous ladybug for all who need it
Translating my two fav reapers into ladybug and cat noir was so much easier than i thought bc it basically writes itself! Picture Undertaker swinging his baton real fast and with green action lines it looks like a scythe now, and the jojo in the show mostly spins for attacks anyways so that makes instant chainsaw vibe. And the summary up top you already read but can't you just imagine in their first confrontation like in black butler in book of the atlantic where Grell was confused about not cutting throigh Undertaker's weapon and he not so subtly tells her there's one thing a death scythe can't cut through? It can literally be the same conversation with the Miraculous Weapons!
Shinigamis in BB all have green eyes bc they're shinigamis but now they're superheroes so their eyes change colour to suit their miraculous if they're good enough. I also want the miraculous symbol to show up in their eye when they use their super power that's why both have an extra eye sketvhed next to them
I could go on forever, thanks for reading, if you wanna hear more I'm begging you to ask
#Kuroshitsuji#Black butler shinigamis#Kuroshitsuji reapers#grell sutcliff#Undertaker#Miraculous ladybug au#Third time posting this#Tumblr stop eating my formating challenge#Forth time please work#Sixth time I'm actually begging
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Drabble - Locket
Happy Sirius and Harry Saturday.
Short little drabble. Sirius gives Harry the locket that James had given him as a sort of proposal.
***
Although Sirius knows that most of the members of the Order wouldn’t approve of him telling Harry something that might possibly throw Harry’s vision of his parents and him out of whack, Sirius didn’t care. Harry deserved to know the truth of his parents, and Sirius is the only one that can tell him.
Thus, he finds a way to get some time alone with Harry – who seemed eager to spend any time that he could with Sirius, even when it meant that they were visiting with each other in Buckbeak’s stinky room.
“So, what did you want to tell me?” Harry asks, as he bows to Buckbeak so that Buckbeak would let him pet him.
“Well, I’m not really sure how to tell you, so I wanted to give this to you instead.”
Sirius hands over the locket that James had given him as a proposal of sorts after he’d proposed to Lily and Sirius had been a bit jealous. It’s silver and heart shaped with the engraving James and Sirius Potter, 1976 to forever. Inside had pictures of James and Sirius kissing on one side and them with baby Harry on the other.
Harry looks down at the locket confused, “I – I don’t understand, this doesn’t look … platonic?”
“That’s because it isn’t,” Sirius says, slowly. “See – I loved your dad; we weren’t just friends.”
“But what about my mum?”
“Well, see – as weird as this might sound, Lily and I shared James. He basically dated both of us – he would’ve married both of us, but we decided to hide our relationship as just best friendship because of the war and my family. I couldn’t risk giving them a bigger target.”
Harry’s frowning, which worries Sirius slightly until Harry says, “Why didn’t you say that to Dumbledore or Mrs. Weasley? I mean – you’re more than just my godfather then – you would’ve been like another … third parent? You would actually know what they would want for me, right?”
Surprised, Sirius shakes his head. “I – no one knows. I did attempt to bring it up once, but someone said they thought I was … confusing my feelings for James for what actually happened. That maybe I – was imagining our relationship.”
Harry gives him a confused look. “But this is a picture of the two of you kissing?”
“Uh, yeah, well… this is something I didn’t want to share with anyone else.”
“Will you tell me how it happened? How everything was?”
Sirius smiles, “I will tell you everything and I want you to keep this locket.”
“Thanks,” Harry smiles as he puts it around his neck. “It’s nice to have something so special.”
“I’m happy to give you something else of your parent’s… now, why don’t we go somewhere a little bit less stinky to talk about it all?”
“Sounds brilliant.”
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An Uninvited Visitor
Well, great.
Serena had never really expected to have to share Jason in any way. If it had been his actual mother, she wouldn't have objected. But him keeping this random brat in their home just because she *kind of* looked like his mom? That was a different matter entirely, and she made sure to let the intruder know that that's what she was. An intruder.
An intruder who quickly found out that unlike Jason, Serena was very much verbal and therefore assumed that she would be open to negotiations.
But Serena consequently ignored her presence. She just went about her day as if that little thorn in her side wasn't there.
After keeping her there for two months already, Serena became more and more irritated. Just what was Jason's endgame here? Was he gonna keep this girl prisoner forever?
Serena shook her head defensively while scrubbing the dishes from breakfast, all too aware of the eyes on her.
"H…hey…"
She whipped around and gave the girl a withering glare. "What?"
Despite the tone, she seemed to take the fact that Serena was finally reacting to her as a good sign and continued:"Can… can you please at least tell me why I am here?"
"The locket around your neck", Serena replied curtly.
"The locket?"
"Aye. That's a picture of Jason's mother in there. That should tell you all you need to know."
"So he is keeping me here because I look like her?"
"That's the gist of it, yeah."
A short moment of silence followed. "And you don't like that."
Serena snapped:"What kind of sane person would *like* sharing their boyfriend with some random skank?"
"Then let me go!"
A bitter laugh escaped Serena and she turned her attention back to the dishes. "And let you sic the cops on us? I don't think so."
"But you don't want me here, and you can't kill me because it would hurt Jason."
"That sums it up quite nicely. Just because you and your trashy little friends had to come trampling into our territory like you own the place, Jason and I are now caught in the world's most frustrating stalemate and have to use part of our already limited resources to keep your sorry ass alive. So the *least* you can do is *not bother me*. Understood? Make yourself as easy to ignore as possible and I will have less of a problem with you." With that, Serena returned her attention to the dishes, and once they were all clean and dry, she left the room.
Jason of course did notice his girlfriend's increasing frustration. He understood that this whole situation was far from ideal, he really did. Hell, he had wanted to kill that girl. His axe had been mid-swing, but one good look at her face had made every muscle in his body freeze.
He couldn't bring himself to kill her. But letting her go would put him and Serena in danger. One time, after a week or so of keeping her there, he had considered just letting Serena kill her instead. But the mere thought of it gave him flashbacks to the night his mother died, and made his heart race until he felt queasy and forced him to spend some time blowing off steam in the forest.
So he just tried to ignore the unwilling visitor as well as he could. He tried to show Serena that he was sorry, but gestures of apology all rang fairly hollow when, at the end of the day, the girl was still *there*.
And Serena, bless her, tried so hard not to blame him, despite how much it clearly got to her.
She approached him from behind and wrapped her arms around his mid-section. It was comforting that she was still as physically affectionate as ever. Hell, maybe even more affectionate than ever before.
"There are people at the lake", she muttered into the coarse fabric of his shirt. She considered emphasizing that these people stank of booze and weed so badly that even a human should be able to smell it, but didn't they always? Stating it was redundant. Part of her wanted to tell him not to pick up any more "pets" but she stopped herself. She knew Jason couldn't help it, and felt genuinely bad about the situation. And in the end, it was that rotten brat's fault for waltzing into their territory uninvited. "Do you want ne to scout them out?"
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💢🍧🙈 for the ask game!
Hey Cotton!! 💜
🍞Emoji OC Asks
💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?
Her messiness! I don't think people, on first impression, someone would realize what mess her home when living alone is. It's like the damn bitch you live like this? meme. Her work is very organized and she's always very methodical in literally every other aspect of her life. Except taking care of her home and herself. She slacks off pretty bad and sometimes doesn't pull through even when she promised to do some chores. It takes a while for Prosciutto to get used to it. And to be honest, he didn't just "get used to it." He forced the habit out of her! Still, he has to pick up after her and he doesn't like it.
🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?
Her heart locket! It's a gift from her family that contains their pictures. Since she leaves them, it's the only way she remembers them and connects to them. She'd be absolutely devasted if she lost it, it's literally irrepliceable. Her relationship with her family is complicated, so she wouldn't want to lose the object even if she doesn't always have fond memories of them.
🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?
To be honest, it was her bad habits from the first question. I wish she could be pristine and perfect! But she's also just another human prone to things like laziness, lethargy etc and it's largely connected to her loneliness and depression. She works on it! It's not like she wants to be irresponsible, clumsy, and forgetful on purpose. I think she's ashamed of it even if she doesn't have to be and I feel the same way. That's why I think it's better to actually talk about it instead of hiding that side of her!
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