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captainsophiestark · 27 days

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Picture Perfect

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Benedict's childhood best friend, who he's recently started courting, notices he's been a bit off lately and decides to see if there's anything she can do to help.

Word Count: 3,045

Category: Fluff, a little bit of Angst

A/N: It's been a minute since I rewatched season 2, so I may have the timing wrong a bit. For the purposes of this fic, though, Benedict finds out that Anthony paid to make sure he got into art school at the same time that they're all at the Bridgerton's country estate.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Something was wrong with my best friend.

I could tell from the minute I saw him, as his mind was clearly somewhere else. He also gave his brother Anthony a colder shoulder than usual, which I knew Anthony likely deserved, but that Benedict rarely gave him. It must've been something pretty bad.

A few years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to drag Benedict somewhere and get some answers out of him, followed by doing whatever I could to cheer him up. But unfortunately for the both of us, despite having grown up together, now that we were both adults in society and he had recently started courting me, we were no longer technically allowed to be alone together. Things were usually a bit looser when it was just the Bridgertons and I, but while I'd joined them for a trip to their country estate, another family had joined us as well, tying my hands more than usual.

Still, I managed to corner him slightly away from the rest of the group after dinner that night, when I'd first noticed something off. He'd been on his way upstairs, rather than joining the rest of us in the parlor after dinner, and I managed to get in front of him quickly enough to make him stop in the hallway.

"Benedict," I said, trying to keep my voice low. He let out a long, deep sigh, but didn't move to step past me, instead fixing me with a tired stare. I frowned. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "It's... nothing."

I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Benedict Bridgerton, I have known you since the age of five. There is no chance of that terrible lie convincing me of anything, besides perhaps that I made the right decision about checking on you."

He sighed again, this time even heavier, and when he met my gaze again it was with an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You remeber I shared my excitement with you about being accepted into art school?"

"Of course! Don't tell me something went wrong..."

He shook his head. "The opposite. Apparently my dear brother took it upon himself to make sure I got in, offering a bribe to secure my acceptance. Yet again, I fail to step out of my family's shadow and generate an accomplishment of my own, without their name and money securing it for me."

I frowned and reached out to touch his arm, but Eloise's voice from the other room promising to find where I'd wandered off to broke the moment. Benedict mustered that hollow smile again, then finally stepped around me.

"I'll be fine, I promise. Don't worry about me. Just go enjoy the rest of your evening."

I frowned after him, but he didn't look back as he climbed the stairs and disappeared onto the second floor. I briefly debated following him, but Eloise's hand on my elbow broke me from that thought.

"Y/N, what on earth are you doing out here? You're missing Kate and Anthony sparring over something trivial again."

I forced a smile onto my face that was hopefully more convincing than Benedict's and turned to face Eloise.

"Well, that's certainly something I don't want to miss. Let's go."

Eloise still looked like she had questions, but I didn't give her room to ask them as I joined the rest of our group in the parlor. Benedict stayed on my mind for the rest of the night, although I tried to hide my worry. Hopefully he'd been right about himself, and would be feeling better in the morning.

*****************

Benedict clearly wasn't feeling better in the morning. I was witnessing the man I loved having an existential crisis, and by the afternoon, I decided I couldn't sit by an watch anymore, society and the Ton and the gossips be damned.

I spent the next hour gathering and setting up the things I'd need, then went to find Benedict. He wasn't anywhere to be seen in the house, so I asked Eloise, who directed me to his bedroom.

I'd been in his bedroom before, of course, since we'd practically grown up together. But now that we'd started on the path to being something else to each other, with my heart registsering significantly more romantic feelings for the man Benedict had become, I found myself slightly nerovous as I stood outside his door. Still, I forced myself to ignore the nerves as best I could. Benedict was hurting, so everything else had to be put on hold while I helped him.

I knocked on his door, pretending my faster-than-normal heartbeat didn't exist as I waited for a response. That became much harder to accomplish when Benedict opened the door, his shirt far more open than normal and without anything over it, hair looking a rumpled mess. My heart did backflips, despite me mentally telling it to calm down.

"Y/N! I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. I must look a mess-"

"No, not at all!" I said much too quickly. "You look, uh... very nice."

The familiar lopsided smile I loved so much appeared on Benedict's face as he leaned on the doorframe before me. He raised an eyebrow, the familiar spark of mischief that I loved so dearly igniting in his eyes, and for the first time in more than a day, he looked to be slightly back to himself.

"Well, I'm very glad to hear you think so. What brings you to my door, then?"

"You haven't seemed to be doing very well since you got the news about Anthony. And don't try to deny it, I know you too well. So, I thought I'd come find you and try to help cheer you up."

Benedict's eyebrow rose again as he crossed his arms.

"And what exactly did you have in mind?"

"I'll show you. But we're going to have to be a bit sneaky about leaving."

Benedict's mood lifted the moment he found out we were going to sneak out of the house together. We'd been regular trouble makers as children, sneaking out for adventures at least once a week, but since we'd both grown up that had basically come to a stop. Now, as I took his hand and dragged him along behind me and we ran through the countryside and left Bridgerton House in our wake, I couldn't stop a wild laugh from bubbling out of my chest. I'd missed this much more than I'd wanted to admit.

"Where are we going?" Benedict called, his own voice breathy and laced with laughter as we ran. I just shot him a grin back over my shoulder.

"You'll see!"

He huffed, but didn't protest as he followed after me. Finally, after winding through the woods and climbing a rather steep hill, we reached the spot I'd spent so long making nice this morning.

This hilltop looked out over the countryside stretching beautifully below us, even better now as the sun had started to get a bit lower in the sky. Waiting for us was a picnic blanket spread out in the grass with all of our favorite foods, wine, and an easel with art supplies set up right next to it. I dropped Benedict's hand as we came to a stop, instead turning to face him with a grin.

"Well? What do you think?"

He stared at everything I'd laid out, mouth open slightly in shock. His brow furrowed when he saw the canvas, and he turned back to me.

"What is all this?"

"It's a picnic, for the two of us," I said. "To watch the scenery and the sunset together without the pressures of society or being a Bridgerton to bring us down. The easel is optional–we can pack it away right now if you want to. But you told me you think Anthony's the reason you got into art school, and I don't agree. I've seen your work, and I know just how good it is. You got in on merit, Benedict. But I know I can't just say that and have you believe it, so I brought some supplies here so you can prove it, if you want to. Paint this moment for the two of us, and I'll swear on our relationship and everything I hold dear to be honest about what I think. Completely, totally, brutally honest."

Benedict's eyebrow quirked again.

"Well, I don't know if brutal is completely necessary..."

"I mean it, Ben. I hate to see you like this, doubting yourself. So if there's something I can do to counter Anthony's idiotic meddling, I'd like to."

"And what if..." He cleared his throat, emotion swirling in his gorgeous brown eyes as he met my gaze. "What if the truth would only serve to enforce what I know? That Anthony's meddling and money is the only reason I've gotten where I am."

I shook my head. "That won't happen-"

"Y/N." I stopped, biting my lip and forcing myself to meet Ben's stare again. He took a few steps forward until we were right in front of each other, then took my hands gently in his own. "What if it does?"

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. "Then I will keep my word and tell you so. One way or another, I will tell you the truth, even if it may not be what I want to tell you. I swear it, Ben."

He nodded slowly, eyes scanning my face. We stayed like that for a few long moments, and briefly, I thought Benedict might make a move to do something I never though he'd do with the Ton hovering over both our shoulders whenever we were together. But then he sighed, a smile returning to his face as he stepped away.

"Alright then. I believe you, and I value your opinion. And since you went to all the trouble to drag these supplies up here in the first place... I may as well get started."

I beamed at him. "I'll pour us some wine."

"Please."

When Benedict first sat down at his canvas, he kept fidgeting nervously, his hands hovering and twitching over various paints and brushes as he second-guessed his decisions. But slowly, as I kept up a stream of conversataion, supplying him with food and drink for fuel as he needed it, I noticed him beginning to relax.

"This is nice," I mused, leaning back on the picnic blanket and looking out at the scenery as Benedict worked. The sun had gotten much lower in the sky than when we'd left, which Benedict had grumbled about as it impacted his painting. Still, the golden light, soft breeze, and warm, fresh air felt like heaven to me.

"I agree," he said, not taking his eyes away from his easel. "I missed running off on adventures with you at the drop of a hat."

"So did I. But, hopefully... we may be able to get back to that again sometime soon."

Benedict looked over at me from his easel, a rougish grin on his face.

"If I didn't know better, Lady Y/L/N, I would think you were boardering on making me a marriage proposal."

I faced forward and closed my eyes under the guise of feeling the sun, trying to ignore my heart pumping frantically in my chest.

"Well. Fortunately for us both, you do know better. And it's not as if you're some strange man I met at court. You're... Ben. My best friend."

"I never said I wouldn't like it, did I? It would be an honor to be proposed to by you."

I cracked one eye open, turning my head to face Benedict with a grin. He wasn't looking at me, his stare focused on his canvas, his face completely serious. My heart stopped threatening to explode out of my chest, and instead settled into the unique, glowing warmth of love I felt whenever Benedict and I were together.

"I love you, Ben," I said, my voice soft and quiet. He stopped his work completely to turn and look at me, a soft smile on his face.

"I love you too. Very, very much." We held each others' stares for a moment, soaking in the comfort and joy of being together, and then Benedict's smile turned into a more edged grin. "It's a good thing we feel so strongly, since we may just be forced into an earlier marriage than planned to avoid a scandal after disappearing for an entire afternoon and evening together."

I huffed and waved him off. "Fortunately, I predict your brother will be accidentally helping us and making up for causing this crisis of confidence in the first place. He and Miss Kate Sharma are so ridiculous and dramatic together, I highly doubt anyone will notice we're gone."

Benedict chuckled, turning back to his work to scan it one last time before finally setting down his paintbrush. He took a deep breath, then stood and offered a hand to me.

"I've finished," he announced as I took his hand. He pulled my to my feet, but instead of looking at the painting, my eyes stayed fixed on him. We were almost chest to chest, and I could tell from his furrowed brows and darting eyes just how nervous he was about my verdict. "Remember, you promised me honesty."

"And honesty you will get."

Finally, I turned from Benedict to the canvas he'd been working on all afternoon. I'd resisted peeking before now at his request, so I wouldn't have any bias from watching his process. Fortunately, just as I'd predicted, his work was magnificent.

"Benedict..." I breathed as I took in the soft lines and vibrant colors before me. It perfectly captured how I felt looking out at the valley before us; it captured the gorgeous scenery, yes, but it also infused everything with a bit of magic that I only felt in this space with him. "This is absolutely incredible."

Benedict came around to stand next to me, arms crossed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him shaking his head.

"Now please don't forget, you promised me honesty."

"I am being honest! Benedict, this is fantastic. The way you capture the myriad of different shades of the light shining across the valley, the seamless lines giving the world a slightly hazy, dreamlike look, and the way you've left the paint a bit messier with the clouds, to make it look like they're moving? It's all perfect, Ben. And masterful. It's a picture of the valley, yes, but it looks like it's alive. And you somehow managed to capture what it feels like to be here in the moment together, the sun on our faces, with each other even when we're not supposed to be, in a truly special way. You're an incredibly talented artist, and I'd be saying that even if you were a complete stranger that I didn't particularly like."

He snorted, then after a second, wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest. I leaned into him immediately, sighing a bit as he leaned his head against mine.

"I have a hard time believing you'd say all that to a stranger you didn't like."

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach, and he laughed without letting me go. A smile spread on my own face despite myself.

"Alright, maybe I wouldn't say all that to a stranger I didn't like. But I'd say it about their work when they couldn't hear me, probably to you. My point stands, Ben. You are a very skilled and talented artist. Anthony isn't the reason you got into that school. You are."

His chest rose and fell with a long, deep breath, and then finally, I felt him nod.

"Thank you. I can't promise it will always be easy for me to always believe it, but... I'll try to remember your words, and not my brother's, from now on."

"Good. And if you feel down again, you can always come to me. I'll always be there for you, Benedict, whenever you need me."

"And I you, my love," he said, moving down to whisper the words in my ear as he wrapped his other arm around my waist, too. He kissed my cheek, and I leaned back into his chest for a moment before turning around in his arms to face him.

The beautiful, kind smile I'd fallen in love with stared back at me, along with his warm brown eyes. I smiled too, then finally stopped ignoring my racing heart and decided to continue the theme of ignoring the Ton and what they might say.

I leaned into Benedict, closing the distance between us with a glance at his lips before meeting his eyes again. Both of his eyebrows shot up, but he didn't pull away.

"Y/N... if anyone found out..."

I smiled. "They won't. Besides, they'd just make us follow through on something we're already planning, anyway."

Benedict huffed a laugh, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he looked at me like he couldn't believe I was real. Then, his arms tightened around my waist, and he leaned in even closer. I closed my eyes, feeling Benedict stop just a hair's breadth away from my lips.

"Are you sure-"

I closed the distance myself before he could continue. Benedict smiled into the kiss a moment later, pulling me closer to him, the two of us locked in each others' embrace as the sun set in the hills behind us. Truly, I didn't think anyone would be able to find out about how we'd spent our afternoon, but I also truly didn't care. I loved Benedict, and even though it was technically early in our courtship, I'd known him for most of my life. I knew we were meant to spend our lives together, and I knew he felt the same way as I did. Sooner or later, we'd make it official with an engagement and marriage, and be able to disappear together whenever we wanted without the Ton batting an eyelash. But, in the meantime, I didn't mind sneaking away for private moments like this one bit. No matter what had led to it in the first place.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

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scudslut · 3 months

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em's masterlist/guidelines

fluff - 𐙚 || smut - ♱ || angst - ✾

➳ Daryl Dixon

one-shots: sins and honey flavored sweetness 𐙚 ♱ ✾ heartsease 𐙚 ♱ a summer wasting 𐙚 midnight refreshments 𐙚 a new years surprise 𐙚 ♱ lazy mornings 𐙚 stay with me 𐙚 ✾ too sweet ♱

drabbles: taste me ♱ head w/ daryl 𐙚♱ daryl’s uncut ♱ s4 daryl 𐙚 ♱ ✾

➳ Scud Frohmeyer

one-shots: take me however you want too ♱

drabbles: cockwarming w/ scud ♱ scuds a slut (canonically) ♱

➳ My Edits

normy's bday dhl burn, burn, burn

please send requests!

About Me!

em | 20 | gemini

hi everyone! this is so long awaited (i’m legit so lazy) but finally i have a masterlist/about me!

╰─▸ my names emma, i’m obviously in love w daryl dixon/norman reedus. i love to write and make edits — u guys should totally follow my tiktok account @mrsemmadixon or otherwise known as scudslut;)

i met norman jdkskajajs at the nyc comic con 2023, he signed the back of my phone case, i’ll actually die on a fucking hill. yes, he’s just as godly in person.

in my day to day life i work with animals 10 hours a day, they are my main passion aside from writing and whatnot, so if i post a photo of a really cute dog i met, that’s why lmao.

i have 2 cats right now, my baby lily i got last year and sophie who i’ve had since i was a kid. typically we rescue all our animals!

i deal with extreme anxiety and depression from a major accident that happened in my life a few years ago (so if i don’t respond or have trouble posting sometimes… that’s why and i really hope everyone understands.)

I love, love, love music. I play the piano and guitar, probably not very good but who cares. some of my all time favorite artists are.. and here we go on a rampage... deftones, cigsaftersex, wheezer, nirvana, mac, frank, lana, djo, catpower, the vines, dinosaur jr, 21 sav, labi siffre, the kills, tom odell, basement, strokes, velvet underground, kendrick, norah jones, red hot chilies, the smiths, billy idol, the cure, no vacation, mazzy star, fleetwood, empire of the sun, pinegrove, otis redding, neil young, etta james, summer walker, motley crue, guns'n'roses, foo fighters, biggie, shady, drake, nelly, jay-z, $uici$ide boys, gucci, trippie... and so much more, my music taste is actually bipolar.

on that note, i actually have a playlist for daryl + norman (music he reposts/i think he’d like) lmk if u want me so share them.

i’m canadian, born and raised.

my parents are both extreme alcoholics, so i suffer from a multitude of childhood traumas as well as current ones. we love it here!:) but id like to think i relate to daryl in some sense, if its the only comfort i get from it.

i love pasta and wine so fucking much, if u don’t we are gonna have issues…

i spend my time either at my job, reading, writing, editing or spending time with some close friends.

and that’s pretty much me!:)

please feel free to ask me questions or request fics, i will absolutely love to do them! (as long as they follow guidelines) if your unsure, just message me to clarify! i won’t ever leave u on read, i promise!

My Guidelines:

absolutely no rape/SA/even slight connotations of it.

no incest.

hitting, slapping, or any extreme violence during play, is a no. (daryl loves to smack your ass when he hits it from the back… that’s okay… but he would. not. hit you.)

age play - i will dabble in this but nothing major where reader is barely an adult. the most i’ll do is early/mid 20’s and daryl is his canon age.

oh yes, and i will write for all norman reedus characters! if you want someone else, messsage/ask me!

gifs/dividers from @cafekitsune

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lesbianloml · 1 year

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the beginning

my babysitter au

type of piece(s): imagine, oneshot, drabble, series

type(s) of writing: smut, angst, fluff, dark (the story will contain all of the above)

pairing(s): milf!dom!dark!wanda maximoff x innocent!sub!immune!witch!fem!reader

warning(s): legal age gap (wanda is 33, reader is 21), perverted men, mentions of sex, this is just where they meet so nothing big

summary: when wanda hires a new babysitter, she is shocked to find that there are some things she doesn't know about her town. the biggest shock is you, you are immune to wanda's powers. an even bigger shock comes when wanda finds out you have powers of your own.

a/n: this series is going to be LOOSLY based on my wandavision dr. if anyone has anything they would like to see or something, let me know. and if anyone wants to talk about shifting, hit me up. i kinda imagined reader as a soft and quiet girl. also, you're kinda a whore. and you love to read and bake. in this series, wanda doesn't really do a tv show or different eras, it's all just normal. but the agents and stuff outside the hex have a big part. reader works at the local café that she owns and spends most of her free time in the library. anyways, enjoy part one!

1.8k words

(not my pics)

(pretend she had billy and tommy before the hex)

"what's the name for your order?" you asked, a little annoyed. you loved your job, but the older man standing in front of you made you want to throw your apron down and quit. "cohen, babe. don't forget next time" cohen shoots you a wink. you hold back a gag as you try to smile politely, writing the name on the side of the cup and turning your back to begin making the drink. grabbing a bag from behind you, you set the cinnamon pastry you made a few hours prior into a container and set it in the bag. as quick as you can, you mix up his drink and slap a lid on it while rolling up the top of the bag, wanting him to leave as soon as possible. "here you go" you say, spinning around and handing the bag and the drink to him. he gives you a look and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, you tap the counter three times swiftly. your work best friend, sophie comes around from the back. "hey babe! is he causing you trouble?" cohen glares harshly at sophie, but one thing you love about her is the way she doesn't back down. sophie gives him a look that immediately has cohen scurrying out the door, tail between his legs. "thanks soph" "anytime love. we get off in fifteen, where you going tonight? your apartment or your mom's house?" you look around to see an empty café, emptier than usual. usually, the shop is packed full of starved or thirsty customers. but it's dark outside, and who would come get caffeine and food at 9:45 at night?

"I'll just stop by the library real quick before it closes and then head home and watch a movie or something." you say, smiling as you think about the old library downtown. it was your favorite place to be whenever you had free time or just needed some quiet. you turn and stacked some more cups and filled up the napkin container while waiting for your shift to end or another customer to walk in. you hear soph come out from the back room, where she was restocking supplies. "hey girl, can i ask a favor?" "yeah i'll stay and lock up so you can go fuck shawn" you say with a smirk and a giggle. sophie gasps dramatically. "how'd you know what i was gonna ask?" "because you ask me at least once a week. and the fact that you're a year older than me and supposed to be more mature makes it even funnier" "thank you! i'll see you tomorrow. don't forget, on sunday night we're baking treats for the elementary school bake sale on monday." "got it. i love you. see you sunday. enjoy shawn!" you sing as sophie laughs. "i will. love you too." "today is friday so on sunday, i need to be here by 5:00am so i can set up the tables and stuff to be ready to open at 6:00am. then i'll work until 10:00pm, close up, and help sophie bake some treats for monday's bake sale at the elementary school" you plan your day tomorrow in your head. glancing at the clock, you see it reads 9:55pm. 5 more minutes until you can lock up and leave. you work on monday, wednesday, friday, and sunday from 5:00am to 10:30pm. you usually open at 6:00am and close at 10:00pm 4/7 days a week. you love your job but hate the hours. your job at the coffee shop payed extremely well, so no matter how much you hated waking up before the sun, you weren't going to quit. you grab a rag and wipe the counters down. 3 minutes until you lock up and leave.

you spin around when you hear the little bell above the shop door ding, signaling someone came in. you almost drop the damp rag you're holding when you see her, a women, maybe in her early thirties. she had beautiful red hair and striking green eyes. her clothes were casual and relaxed, but you were sure she was some sort of powerful figure from the way she walked and held herself. you had never seen her in westview before, you were sure you'd remember her, and you'd lived in westview since you were eighteen, so three years now. you shake your head before walking around the counter to greet the women. she's even prettier up close. "you came in at the perfect time. i was just about to lock up." you tell the women with a smile. "oh, i can leave if you're closed-" before the women starts apologizing, you cut her off. "oh no, it's ok. i don't mind, i was getting lonely in here anyways. what can i get for you tonight?" "just a coffee and a piece of apple pie, please" you nod and turn to make her order. you don't ask her name, too shy to do so. it's a good thing that this women isn't. "i'm wanda." "y/n. i don't remember seeing you around westview. did you just move here?" you ask, sliding her drink and bag with the pie in the container to her over the counter. "no, we haven't moved here yet. i was just looking around, getting ready to move in with my boys" "oh, you have kids? how old?" "i have twin boys. they're ten" wanda's face lights up when she talks about them. "cute! i guess i'll be seeing you around more if you're going to move here" "you sure will, sweetheart." you wonder what that's supposed to mean as wanda smiles at you before paying and exiting the café, leaving a trail of perfume in her wake.

wanda turns the wheel to the left, not really knowing what she's looking for, but knows she's looking for something. wanda reminds herself that she needs to head back to the hotel and rest up for tomorrow when she and her boys were going to move into their new home. ever since vision kicked them out, they've been staying in a hotel but then wanda remembered the house that she owned in westview. the perfect place for her and her boys to start over. as wanda is thinking, her head droops and stomach grumbles. she hasn't drank or eaten anything all day. wanda continues driving around the streets, looking for a restaurant or something that she could get a bite to eat at. wanda slows the car when she sees a little café on the corner, letting out a sigh of relief as she sees movement and light from inside. she wouldn't have made it the forty five minutes back to the hotel without eating something. she quickly climbs out of her car and enters the café, not really paying attention to who's there with her. wanda just wants to get back as soon as she can. "you came in at the perfect time. i was just about to lock up" wanda almost falls over at the sound of the other female's voice. it was so relaxing and quiet. so beautiful. she glances up to look and sees you. wanda swears she stops breathing for a moment. you were the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen. with the prettiest smile, even at the disturbance, and the softest voice, wanda swore she just met an angel. you had to be an angel. you're smiling. at her. "oh, i can leave if you're closed-" "oh no. it's ok. i don't mind, i was getting lonely in here anyways. what can i get for you tonight?" you were so sweet, so kind. "just a coffee and a slice of apple pie, please" wanda smirks to herself when she sees the tint of blush on your cheeks. you were so cute, too shy to talk to her or ask her name. "i'm wanda" "y/n. i don't remember seeing you around westview. did you just move here?" wanda watches you slide the bag and coffee across the counter towards her. "no, we haven't moved here yet. i was just looking around, getting ready to move in with my boys" wanda states. "oh, you have kids? how old?" "i have twin boys. they're ten" she smiles at the thought of her boys. "cute! i guess i'll be seeing you around more if you're going to move here" "you sure will, sweetheart."

as wanda clambers into her car to begin the drive home, she thinks about the girl at the counter. "y/n" wanda thinks to herself, smiling at the name. she thinks it suits you. and as wanda is turning onto the freeway, she thinks to herself, "that girl will be mine"

as you lock up the café and slide into your car, you think about the women you saw. she was very pretty, and you hope that her and her kids move in ok. as you turn you car on and pull out of the parking lot, you rest your hands on the wheel as you begin driving home. your mind is pleasantly empty on the drive back to your apartment.

the first time wanda ever met you, wanda thought about you the entire drive back to the hotel. you were the most angelic person she'd ever met, and she was enchanted by you. the first time that you met wanda, you thought about her once before driving home. she was just another customer to you. but little did you know, you were becoming so much more to her.

little do you know, this is just the beginning

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autisticempathydaemon · 1 year

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Hello! Are you hyperfixated on RedactedAudio?

Do you want (need) to know who to follow to cultivate your dashboard and feed your gremlin brain good, good boyfriend roleplay content?

Cool, I’ve got you, and I’ve got hyperlinks. Buckle up.

(Note: This is by no means a comprehensive, objective, or complete list. I've only been in the fandom for six months or so. I have biases and favorites and limited time. I hope to update this list periodically, and if you feel I've missed someone, please feel free to reblog with your additions! I just would have loved a guide like this when I got into the fandom back in August and wanted to spread some positivity~!)

Fanfiction:

@angelnoodlesoup: she/her

Sophie is just one of the sweetest David stans that's ever existed who writes, like, the sweetest things about him. Her posts are just going to make you feel warm, fluffy, soft things in your heart area; give into the sweetness. Highlights: Sophie writes this adorable timestamp series of vignettes exploring Davey and Angel's day, but I'm particularly attacked to their David/Angel neighbors to lovers AU~

@arrowfleur

I was actually going to put Max in the visual content portion of this post, because they post delightful Redacted edits on Tiktok (under the same username, highly recommend~), but then they made a uquiz that gave me an existential crisis, so here we are. Highlights: This quiz sent my whole server for a loop and has made me reconsider my relationship with Lovely as a character and kin; it's a great time.

@batch-of-pengwings: robin/bird, she/her

Robin, an absolute sweetheart who makes all the fun ask games that keep the community interconnected and thinking and talking which is just really sweet and fun in the best way. Highlights: The Winter Wonderland game is the one who went around most recently, and it’s so fun to engage with the fandom and discuss who we think is stupid enough to get their tongues stuck on a telephone poll~

@bicyclepainting: they/them

Clover, the fandom's resident Smartass, doing the lord's work and reminding us all how fucking smoochable Aaron is on a regular basis on top of being the coolest astrology nerd don't give them your birth chart you will be perceived /lh Highlights: No one is doing Aaron/Smartass like they are; like, read and absorb the delicious, domestic delight that is them. I also recommend their deep dives into the Redacted bois signs, if you're into that; they're very thorough and fun to read!

@cashandprizes: she/they

My Lexi, my queerplatonic soulmate… She is on a quest to dissect and critique fandom brick by philosophical brick, and I both love her and fear her in equal measure. (That’s a lie, I love her infinitely, more than anything, but she is in fact incredibly intelligent and intimidating.) Highlights: Come for the scathing insights into gray-morality and DD:DNE’s place in fiction, stay for the stripper!Gavin fic they’re working on and their sequel to Lasko’s SexTember audio because she really wanted to make him cry

@ejunkiet: she/her

EJ, the very first of my Redacted loves~ Not only is EJ an endless well of kindness and positivity, but she also writes fucking bomb ass everything. You get angst, you get smut, you get fluff- We stan a multitalented, ace queen. (She also writes really cute CastleAudios fanfiction and original stuff as a cherry on top.) Highlights: EJ writes just some of my favorite David/Angel smut; she captures Angel's little shit nature perfectly. She's also written the sweetest thing of Damien meeting Huxley's moms that I can't get enough of~

@dominimoonbeam: she/her

Domini, truly one of the pillars of the fandom. I don't know what'd we'd be without her fantastic fics or her original novellas or her fantastic, beautiful, rarepair-creating brain. Highlights: God, there's too many to choose from! There's the Sam/Darlin fake dating AU that has us all gripped by the proverbial balls. There's the David/Darlin tattoo shop AU that has me frothing at the mouth because tattoo artists are stinkin hot. That's not even getting into their Cam/William fic, because god, that is such a good rarepair. We love two immortals finding love with one another, we really do. My personal favorite has got to be their Huxley/Darlin piece though, because Darlin gets to be cute and awkward and so, so loved in it.

@frenchiefitzhere: she/her

Frenchie, the fandom's unofficial (but basically official) Marie Greer, not only a gorgeous writer but also the creator of the most fantastical and unique fansongs (who makes original audio content to boot~) Highlights: We would be nowhere as a fandom without the Marie/Colm greer backstory and saga or her audios as the Greer Matriarch herself, but personally? Her Imperium!Lasko/Adam fic kind of changed my life, I'm kind of obsessed with it.

@friendlyfaded: he/him

Miles, the king and professor of the rarepairs! Beware, you will leave his blog wishing for fics for a ship that doesn’t actually exist yet. It’s unavoidable when you read the careful, creative, thoughtful way he considers seemingly silly pairings and makes them gorgeous. Highlights: I recommend his whole rarepairs with prof tag for a snack and his Sweetheart/Lasko/Milo fic for a whole meal~

@gingerbreadmonsters: she/her

Ginger, literally one of the sweetest, friendliest people in the entire Internet. I cannot adequately describe the absolute magnificent poetry of Ginger's prose, so you just have to read it for yourself. You will not be disappointed. Highlights: Ginger's Milo/Sweetheart series is for if you're feeling sweet, and her Vincent/Lovely/Gavin/Freelancer foursome fic is if you're feeling spicy~ Or if you're like me and are longing for an character we'll never see again, you can read her gorgeous, Doctor Who-inspired look in Marcus's mind.

@glassbearclock: she/her

Beans, also known as the best Milo/Sweetheart writer in the game. Their banter is taken from the mouth of god and first name Erik last name Redacted himself, and you could not convince me otherwise. Highlights: I’m a big fan of her sweet, wholesome, Jewish!Milo sick fic, but aYO her Milo/Sweetheart first date fic is so good y’all like goddamn Sweetheart phases through their door and makes Milo faceplant it on accident man that shit is so good

@horrorscoupes: they/he

My beautiful, darling Lotus, my gloriously deranged brother in arms (affectionate). The way they write each and every d(a)emons is just so -chef kiss-. Highlights: I think about their Regulus/Doll fic, like, literally every day, it's just yummy and depraved. Though, for a true taste of genius, for a galaxy brain treat, you've got to read his Shark!Vega/Pet masterpiece.

@k9rage: he/xi

My beloved Calico, our helpful Image Description fairy. He is just so cool and writes the most glorious smut like the world has ever seen. As of publishing, he's writing a Vega/Lasko street racing AU that's gonna be just smoke ash cinder fire hot. Highlights: You need to read his Damien/Gavin waxplay fic; like, this changed my life, I think about it daily. Ooh, AND his Aaron/SmartAss/Gavin threesome fic, because he didn't do all that thinking and imagining for us to not appreciate it. I'm also reccing @calicostorms, his other blog and spotify, so you can get at his stellar Redacted character playlists!

@lovelylonerliterature:

Lovely, absolute stand-out writer in the fandom! Would you believe they have a whole (as of posting) 95 works for the RedactedASMR fandom on AO3? There’s <2000 fics, which makes Lovely a whole five percent of the fanfiction on their own. That’s wild and so hella cool. Highlights: Literally everything they write. Explore their extremely well done masterlist, it’s beautifully put together, and you’ll find something you love. (I’m particularly fond of the Darlin/Vega fic they wrote based off of one of FriendlyFaded’s posts~)

@romirola: she/her

Dr. Romi, the one and the only and one of the legitimate sweetest goddamn people that has ever existed. You've never met a more polite, darling person in all your days. How did she write all these thousands of words of art while getting a doctorate? God, I wish I knew... if only we could also be so beautiful and wonderful and accomplished. Highlights: You haven't existed until you've read her Milo/Sweetheart Tangled AU; like, what are you doing here? GO. (I also deeply recommend her found family Shaw Pack + Sam fic, if you're looking for something that's still ongoing!)

@sealriously-sealrious: they/them

Chrys who writes- no contest I think we can all agree- the best Huxley that this fandom has ever seen. He is just so well-explored and so multifaceted, just the top-tier himbo content we all need and deserve. Highlights: Huxley and Freelancer at the aquarium, Huxley and Freelancer going camping, sfw, nsfw, whatever you want, we've GOT. (There's even some imperium!Huxley, if you're so inclined >:))

@starlitangels: she/her

Starlit, another absolute powerhouse of the fandom. Just look at this masterlist, I think there’s something here for literally every character. That’s what babes call RANGE. Highlights: The way they explore the Shaw pack is so fun; I’d highly recommend her fic exploring Gabe and his backstory or her fic exploring the Shaw’s future pups~!

@taelonsamada: she/her

A pillar- or should I say fence post?- of the fandom and just an utter peach. Always has a nice word to say and says the best nice words about Sam and Darlin- Highlights: Her nsfw Geordi/Cutie fic holds a special place in my heart (the blindfold? the gag? Be still my beating heart), but you haven’t lived until you’ve read her Shaw-centric Ranch AU~!

@teasandcardigans: she/her

Mads, another lovely creator that could be in either section of this post- that's how talented she is! Not only is she a lovely writer but she also designs the most fun Redacted stickers! Also, she's got the only Redacted fan tiktok that Erik has confirmed seen and liked, can't not mention that it's so cool Highlights: Honestly, there's too many to mention! A really popular of hers is a "What If" echo-esque reimagining of everyone's stories which is so fun, and my personal, biased favorite is her Alexis & Gavin fic hear me OUT-

@the-sugar-crash

Cait, out here doing the most and the best. They’ve run the Redacted Winter Gift Exchange for the past two years, connecting blogs who might have never spoken to each other, inspiring creativity, and spreading holiday cheer~ Highlights: I recommend taking a look-see through the “Redacted 2022 Winter Gift Exchange” tag- much thanks to Cait for making it possible- to consider if you’d like to join next year! Until then, there’s a compilation of their cute headcanon posts to inspire you!

@zozo-01: she/her

Zo, one of the sweetest people in the fandom~ Not only is she a fantastic writer, but she is also one of the friendliest people in the space! Constantly excited and supportive and positive and a joy to follow and befriend. Highlights: Her Sam/Darlin Deity AU is going to change the world and break some hearts, I just know it. (Just like her Alexis and Darlin meeting fic broke mine-) If you're not up to getting your heart broken and just want a friend, I recommend asking her about her Powerpoint of Bollywood scenes that could be Sam/Darlin moments~!

Fanart:

@andr0leda: she/they

Androleda’s art is so gorgeous in that most of them are uncolored or working with a smaller palette, and it just makes those colors stand out and the line work all the more elegant. Highlights: Their wolf!Darlin piece got so popular, and you can see why! It looks like the cover of a really cool YA fantasy novel. Also, her Sam/Darlin art just melts the heart- the gentle hand, the key around the neck-!

@artbykays

Kays, a fantastic artist who plays around with the prettiest, brightest colors and has the prettiest (hottest) fem listeners. They also have super fun Redacted playlists! Highlights: Their Sweetheart, Valentina, is kind of smokin hot, I mean look at her, but also good lord, have you seen their Warden like lock me up anytime hello-

@belovedbow

Bow’s art just makes me so soft and gooey inside I dunno. Their art is so pretty, and they always have the most expressive faces. Not to mention the colors- like, Bow uses the simplest but most emotionally evocative shades of pinks and blues that make me inexplicably feel things, and I love it. Highlights: Literally all their Davey/Angel is the sweetest, but I also have this deep fondness for their imp!FL and Vindemiator pieces, because look at these deep, mournful blues, they’re beautiful!

@cascadiiing: they/them

Atlas creates the most beautiful, squishable, smoochable characters on top of being the most beautiful, squishable, smoochable (platonic) sweetie in existence~ they’re so sweet and friendly on top of being so talented at such a young age, and I would protect them with my life. Highlights: Their Sam kind of makes me so lovesick, I could barf- he’s just that pretty. Their Alexis/Christian art is fanart of my own fic, I’ll grant you, but it’s also so fucking pretty look at the dreamy colors and it MOVES-

@claracatlady

Where would we be without Clara, like honestly- What really stands out about their art is- other than the overwhelming talent- the obvious thought and joy that went into designing the outfits. Only the best from our resident fashion design student! Highlights: literally everything. If I must be specific, the David design pinned to their blog is utterly ahdhkakshdjsk, and I am particularly partial to their Alexis design, because I love my beautiful, possibly complex lady okay-

@fregget-frou : he/they

Mal has the prettiest Listeners; I’m lowkey in love with all of them~ I love the way he does such fluffy, voluminous hair, and I dunno, all their listener OC’s have this fashion model-esque glamour and posture about them that’s really attractive. Highlights: Of their listeners, Mal’s Angel has got to be my favorite. Look at this fluffy-haired cutie! Look at this menace! I would also propose to them, they’re gorgeous!

@gwenifred: she/her

Gwen draws the most gorgeous, swoon-worthy Huxleys and is just a big sweetpea to boot. Her and Pali sharing OC’s and art trades here and on Twitter is a testament to how friendly and sweet the fandom can be! Highlights: Everything she draws is gorgeous, but you haven’t lived until you’ve seen her animation work!

@ice-palace-art: They/It/He/Dae

Darby has some of the most beautiful designs, I can hardly stand it. He creates the most gorgeous, realistically proportioned characters and listeners, and they’re just really smoochable okay let me live- Highlights: It has this one piece of Gavin and Lasko having a sleepover that fills me with the warm fuzzies every time I see it, and their Aaron design fills me with longing I am hopelessly in love with their dad-bodded Aaron.

@itsdaifuku: she/her

Y’all don’t even know the little happy stim storm Fuku’s art sets me on; like, all her art is so cute and joyful and somehow colorful even when it’s in black and white? It just gives the vibe of life and vibrancy constantly? How does she do that? Highlights: Literally, everything she draws is gorgeous and sweet, though her designs for the Shaws and their mates are so S-tier and so cute. (I’m also particularly fond of her designs for Love and Alexis, my favorite characters, I’m biased, sue me)

@mr-laveau: he/they

Laveau, my favorite Milo kinnie~ (Yeah, I said it out loud; I’m callin you out.) Charming, thoughtful, friendly, much more talented than they have any right to be when they’re also so funny and sweet, AND also writing at their other blog @bratty-telepath. You’ve never seen such a double threat. Highlights: Literally, everything he makes. All his designs are colorful and gorgeous and filled to the brim with deliberate, intentional details (though I am incredibly partial to their Alexis and Darlin designs and the parallels he included between them.)

@nais-doodles

Nai is a fucking blessing unto this fandom, and we are not worthy. You haven’t really lived, haven’t experienced all the pure, positive silliness that this hellsite has to offer until you experience Nai’s Redacted Actor AU. It’s pure serotonin, and we’re all here listening to Boyfriend ASMR, I know we could use it. Highlights: Other than said AU posts (which really are so fuckin good), have you seen their drawing of Vincent and Sam’s Monarchal ball? Ooh, and if you go to their tiktok under the same username, you can see some of the really cool dating sim they’re working on!

@nanowatzophina: any pronouns

Na’no is not only a must follow on tumblr, but I also highly recommend their tiktok if you wish to wade through the horrid cesspool of that app (I say with tiktok as one of my top social media sites- we have a codependent relationship) Their art is super cute and expressive, and I get massive gender envy from the way he draws hair and teeth. Highlights: Her aspec Freelancer is just so close to my heart; I adore Avery so deeply. Also, the way they draw imperium!Vega and Pet makes my heart fucking melt and want to jump out my chest- the size difference, my god

@obsessivedino: they/them

Mint’s contribution to the fandom cannot possibly be overstated. Their art style is just so clean and neat and with the cutest expressions, and I love their designs so much, especially for the d(a)emon bois I just ahhhhh Highlights: If you’ve joined the official unofficial Redacted Discord server, you’ve seen their adorable stickers reminding you to kick that ass or hydrate unless you want to die-drate, and you haven’t truly embraced life unless you’ve seen their two-year anniversary masterpiece. Ooh, or pocket caelum!

@palilious: she/her

There is no Redacted fandom or fandom list without Pali, and we’ve all accepted that. Her style is so uniquely and instantaneously recognizable as hers, and everyone adores it, including but not limited to GBA, Nomad, and Cardlin! Highlights: Literally everyone she draws is so pretty, though I have a soft spot for her Vincent or her Nomad drawings if you’re looking for more VAs to listen to!

@pearl-kite: she/they

Kirehn has the most huggable humans and the most awe-inspiring d(a)emons. The way she draws the d(a)emons with constellations worked into the designs and color palettes is just so gorgeous and purposeful and thoughtful. Highlights: Their Vega is so frightening but beautiful, you just can’t look away from him. I’m also particularly in love with their Darlin!

@queendread

Do y’all ever do this thing when you see an ethereally beautiful person and you have no words, all you can do is giggle like a vapid schoolgirl(gn)? That’s me with all of Anna’s paintings: no words, just awe. Highlights: I don’t even really like Gavin, okay, he’s not my type, but lord above, Anna’s Gavin is something else. Their Sam also has those Captain America, boy next door good looks I imagined, it’s like they took him right out of my daydreams.

@ryokoaoi : they/them

Ryo has the absolute cutest, most adorable art style, one can barely handle it! Everything they draw is just so pretty and so colorful and detailed and sweet. (Except the sad things, those are less sweet but gosh they’re still so pretty.) They also have this Magic Swap AU that they design that is so fun to read about! Highlights: Their swapped! Gavin and Avior designs are so fun, I adore them deeply, and if you need something to cheer you up, you can always depend on their DAMN pieces that always include a little invisible Caelum to bring you joy~!

@slushrottweiler: she-they

There is nothing like seeing Slush’s signature blue linework on your dashboard, it’s such a sweet treat- or spicy. There are also very good, very spicy treats. Her blog is a magnificent roulette wheel of blue surprises. Highlights: I love their Sam/Darlin stuff, especially this one because wowee them shoulderblades, but their HuxDami BA piece takes the cake.

@spookybeandoodle

Spooky has my whole heart and wallet and my other heart if I had one I fell in love with their rich color palettes and shading and Alexis right away and had to commission them. Could not recommend enough, they were a treasure to work with~ Highlights: I’m not biased- okay yes I am but not now their Alexis is fuckin smoking hot but also their Cam might be my favorite Cam look at that smile-!

@sri-rachaa: she/her

Rae is such a treasure to this fandom, we hardly deserve her. Her art is so ethereally pretty and delicate? The way she draws hair and noses and silhouettes- her line work is just phenomenal. Everything she creates is just a delight to look at. Highlights: The Southern Siblings AU is a gift, a treasure, a boon that cannot be ignored. I’m also a big fan of her Lovely OC who is ridiculously pretty~

@tankwolf : she/her

June has been posting fanart for only two months, but I’m already absolutely obsessed. I just find her monochrome character portraits so visually engaging and interesting. I would love so badly to be friends with her listener OC’s… Highlights: …or more than friends, because her Sweetheart is something else good lord. I would just love it if June could stop putting the hot people in crop tops please (but also don’t cause whoa)

@terrazaurio

All the fanart Terra creates is so bright and vivid and colorful and expressive, they’re really such a treat to see and experience. I’m a sucker for the colors they use, cause it makes my lizard brain all happy and go “shiny pretty happy.” Highlights: Everything they draw with the Shaw Pack is pure dopamine, like this one of the bois and their mates hanging by the pool. I am particularly attached to this piece from Milo’s HBS, because they’re so fucking in love, your honor, I love them.

@thefablefoxart : she/her

Angelina’s Redacted couple series is one of the truest delights of the fandom; like, they’re so colorful and cute and just adorably designed. I’m also deeply in love with the way she does hair. Everyone just has really fucking good looking hair, and I can’t get over it-Highlights: On top of the aforementioned couple series, I just want to bring attention to this adorable chibi Sam that she drew- it brings me so much serotonin- and their Darlin, Kai who I wish would just give me a shot okay I have a Southern accent too-

If you’re reading all the way here, I hope you found the post helpful and smiled while making your way through it! Or both! The RedactedAudio fandom is truly one of my favorite spaces on the internet; it’s so intimate and creative, and I’ve found some amazing, perfect friends here, so I hope you will too 💖

again playing around with the formatting please stop hurting me tumblr I’m trying to be nice

If you can see this, I love you, and you’re watching me try to format this post so tumblr doesn’t cut off the bottom of it please ignore the Android behind the emerald curtain go about your day

#redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #redacted

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tqngerine · 1 year

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ stay in the middle

(like you a little) | hueningkai x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Huening Kai would do anything for his best friend Taehyun, and this one small favor is no exception. It appears that Kai’s fellow campus journalist Y/N has caught his attention, and Taehyun needs help connecting to them. Befriending someone outside of his small social circle wasn’t something Kai did often, but he comes to find that it’s easy to get close to Y/N—maybe even getting a little too close.

TAGS: social media au (+ written), college au, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, crack if i want to be funny, angst but only later on

FEATURING: rest of TXT, Le Sserafim Chaewon & Yunjin, Enhypen Jay & Jungwon

STATUS: in progress (hiatus)

UPDATES: whenever i can

⋆｡°✩ MASTERLIST ✩°｡⋆

PROFILES:

drama kids | yeonjun’s beagles | misc.

CHAPTERS:

TAGLIST: open!! leave a comment below or send me an ask to be included in this taglist ^^

@kaisdefender @fairysh4mpoo @0rangemilk @beomsbeanie @hanjisungsgirl @luvsoobs @goldennika @spagettae @solarsolarity @hy2ka-i @aestheticsluut @sophie-writingtime @quitbeingawhore @destinylightlove42 @softpia @strawberry-kirby @matcharetsuko @txtbrainrot @taekwondoes @tatanbin @uno7 @catsyoon @fzy-b3om @concatpng @wezbin @fandcmwritingss @officiallyjaehyuns @wannabeyn @youbettertellmeyes @umbreonwolfy @yumilovesloona @softcabur @tsookies @amazingly-amazing-loser @junhuicosmo @planethyuka @minhoino @heartattackreader @beomiebears @makiswrld @catsyoon @suzirumas @mikitaxt @veryjeongintxtkid @ndriixx @imsiriuslyreal @suurejann

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butterflyknifegirl · 1 month

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ᖭ༏ᖫ Knives and Pens ᖭ༏ᖫ {Episode 2}

Ellie x Female Reader MDI 18+ Word count: 4013

Aria Rose is a trained surgeon from Orion, Alberta coming to Jackson. Originally from Buffalo QZ in New York, you fled after the death of your mother, an ex Firefly. You meet Ellie Williams when arriving in Wyoming. Hope is a fickle thing and the past will come back to haunt everyone.

A.N: Like I mentioned previously this is my first fic and so I'm taking my time with writing and enjoying the characters. This takes place in the TLOU2 or a little prior to when the game takes place. Slight changes to the story will happen. Rated 18+ as sex and sexual themes are mentioned. Slow burn. Eventual Smut.

Any songs used in this story were released prior to Breakout Day; September 26th, 2013.

Warnings for this episode: angst, fluff?, cursing, violence, gore, nudity, lesbian sexualism/erotica, mentions of murder, pregnancy trauma, mentions of self harm.

↢ PREVIOUS EP // NEXT EP ↣

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Enjoy :)

Episode 2 : Jackson

Song: Nothing Brings Me Down - Artist: Emiliana Torrini - Released: 2005

+++++++

The VCR tape in your mind starts to play a black screen. A small light emerges in the darkness and illuminates your old kitchen back in Buffalo. The table is covered by the smuggled Firefly letters your mother was reading. You walk over to the table. “Honey?” you turn and your mother enters the kitchen with her bag.

“Mom,” you say quietly. It echoes in your mind like rippling water.

“Are you okay honey? You look sick.”

“I’m fine.” You look back at the letters on the table. “What’s going on with the Fireflies?”

She kisses your head and sits at the table. “Uh well a lot. My friend Marlene wrote to me. She wanted to know if it was possible to extract cordyceps from the brain without killing the host.”

“What’s the point?” you scoffed, “To extract it you would cause major damage to the brain, killing them anyways. And it spreads fast, so the person is already lost.”

“Yes, but as a means to create a form of… cure?”

“From infected brain tissue? It wont work. Cordyceps only knows how to take over a host.”

“But, what if it mutated,” She raises an eyebrow at you. You give your mother a deadpan stare.

“Mutated? The host would still be infected.”

“But what if they were still themselves, still human?”

“H-how? Cordyceps is foreign to our bodies. Even our antibodies try to fight it off before it completely takes over the brain.”

Your mother starts to shuffle and pile the smuggled letters on the table.

“Mom?” your voice echoes as everything starts to shimmer in your mind, “Are you saying there’s someone who's immune?”

“Damn did I fall asleep?” you roused to the sound of someone knocking on the door. Your knees were bent to your chest sitting on an armchair. You were still in Hannah’s room keeping watch of her and Sophie, but the fatigue and exhaustion caught up to you and you had fallen asleep. You unraveled yourself to get up with a few cracks and opened the door.

Joel stood there with his hair wet from his shower, “G’morning, we’re thinking of heading out in ‘bout an hour. You need help with anything?”

“Yeah, can you watch Sophie while I get Hannah dressed?”

You washed Hannah the best you could, with water and a rag, and got her dressed. You assisted her down the stairs. Joel and Tommy were feeding the horses outside. Hannah went outside to get Sophie and talk to Joel. You went into the living room where the safe was to get supplies. You heard the bathroom door open and footsteps coming down the hall.

“Good morning.”

You turn to say good morning back, Ellie stood there with her hair down- wet, she wore a gray hoodie, dark jeans, and her converse.

“Good morning..” is what finally came out as your train of thought returned and you put fresh ammo in your pistol.

“How’s the baby?” she asks, coming over and checking the safe. There was a sheen on her cheek and a few droplets running down her short layers onto the sides of her face. Her pine aroma was a warm musk in the cool morning air. Despite taking a shower, she was still groggy.

“She’s with Joel and Hannah right now. I had Joel watch her for a bit, he didn’t seem to mind,” you both hear Hannah laugh outside. Ellie doesn’t say anything and grabs some rags. You feel like somehow you struck a nerve but you let it be and zip up your bag.

Ellie had her sleeves pushed up exposing her ink. “Your tattoo,” you started, “I like it. What does it mean?”

“Thanks, I, uh, got it when I was 17, my friend Cat did it. I have a guitar with a moth on it that I like and decided to use that as the main design. The fern is something that Cat helped me come up with. I wanted a large design taking up my forearm. She said that the fern represented hope and family,” she looks at you and you can’t help but smile at her. Your smile must have been contagious because she smiled back at you. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“I do-,” but before you could finish Tommy came into the house.

“Horses are ready, let’s head out.”

You were back on Shimmer. Tommy was leading the way and he was eager to get back before noon. “I found Maria this ring, I swear it’s gold,” he held it up as if that would confirm whether it was genuine.

“Is that even her size?” Joel mumbles.

“Looks a little small, maybe I make a cast and melt it down into somethin’.”

You look over to see Hannah using a nursing cover that she sewed back in Orion.

“Is she latching on?” you ask.

“Oh yes, she’s feeding well.”

“Good,” you sigh in relief. One less thing to worry about. You felt a little selfish but you were still tired and decided to slowly rest your head on Ellie’s backpack.

“Tired?”

“Hm? No, I’m awake.”

“So..uh about your tattoo,” Ellie's voice was in range so that only you could hear her, “you said you had one?”

“Look down,” you instruct. Ellie looked and you stretched your right arm out and flipped your wrist over to reveal a small five pointed star. It could’ve been mistaken for a large freckle at first glance. Ellie is surprised she didn’t notice it yesterday. “I got it done back home in Buffalo. It was against the rules to get tattoos because they said it encouraged gangs, but a couple of us got together past curfew and tattooed each other with some needles and ink, not really the safest thing to do. My uh, best friend and I tattooed stars on each other.” You think back to Emily.

Ellie’s eyelids flutter and she flashes back to Riley. “I had a best friend back in Boston,” Ellie questioned herself for a split second as to why she felt like she could open up to you. Was it because she was just interested in you? Or did she have a deeper longing to feel connected to someone; someone to open up to, not someone to watch from the sidelines, but someone who was just for her. “We snuck out after curfew too.” She squinted and rolled her tongue in her mouth. That was the end of her story.

“We made it to one of our trails,” Tommy announces ahead, “Stay on guard, this route is one of the more active.”

You got your pistol ready. You rode by a library and took a mental note to come back to see if there was anything worth taking.

“Hey, who usually does this route?” Ellie asked without being too loud.

“No one makes it out this far other than Eugene when he gets a chance,” Joel responded. Ellie kept quiet.

Tommy suddenly halted and raised his hand. The sound of a distant clicker was heard. Tommy hopped off his horse and took out his sniper. The clicker emerged out of one of the distant buildings and Tommy used his scope. “G’damn it.”

“What’re you seeing?” Joel asked.

“There’s about 30 or so cramped by the ol’ coffee shop, more inside.”

“Suppose they were migrating up the mountain for spring?”

“Yeup..” Tommy looks back and nods Joel and Ellie over.

You watched as the three plotted a way around the infected. You scanned the buildings around you for any movement. You weren’t the type to get nervous without cause, but a ball of anxiety was curling in your abdomen and you couldn’t figure out why.

“Okay then,” Tommy turns around, “We are rerouting and avoiding this area altogether to keep the baby safe. There’s a dirt path going down to a stream close to Jackson. Keep eyes out for stragglers. When we get back home we’ll send up a team to clear this place out.”

The path was steep and muddy going down the mountain. Joel’s horse jumped down a steep incline before catching its footing again. “Easy girl,” he said.

Sophie started crying. Her newborn cry was faint but persistent. “Shh Sophie,” Hannah tried to hush her and rock her in the swaddle.

Then, the distant noise of a runner waking up echoed, followed by another one, and another. They came out from behind the trees a small distance away screaming towards Joel and Hannah.

“Let’s move!” Tommy started going faster downhill.

Tommy led through the mud down the mountain trying to avoid trees, the steep drops, and cliffs. You looked back and saw about 20 runners following behind and 4 clickers. You shot down one runner before having to grab hold of Ellie’s waist to not fall.

“There’s about 25 of them after us!,” you called out.

“We can’t bring this shit back to Jackson!” Ellie yelled.

“Tommy she’s right,” Joel echoed.

“At this point I’m trying to not fall off this damn mountain, you got some place in mind?”

Ellie thought for a second. She wasn’t used to this route but remembered coming out here when she was still doing group patrols. “The Baldwin Lodge. There’s a fence around the place!”

“Okay you heard that Tommy?” Joel said.

“Sure did, let's haul ass!”

Sophie cried all the way to the lodge. After entering the fence Joel and Tommy shot at the now 35 infected through the fence. Ellie ran inside and retrieved two molotovs that she threw at the horde. From deep inside the lodge two runners emerged and from behind the group. You and Hannah shot and killed them.

Then, quiet. Only the sound of Sophie’s soft cries remained. You brought Hannah inside and took a drinking syringe out your backpack and prepped it with a small dose of sleeping medicine. “Just for now, until we’re safe,” you said, feeding it to Sophie. Hannah nodded.

The cries ceased as she fell asleep. “You ladies alright?” Tommy comes inside with Joel and Ellie.

“Yeah, just put the baby asleep.” You look over at Ellie who is already looking at you. At your left arm to be specific. She comes over and grabs it. You feel some pain then notice the tear in your sleeve and a bloody gash. A small stream of blood goes down your sleeve and drips from your hand. “Oh I didn’t even feel it.”

“It could have been a branch, you need stitches, I can do it,” Ellie takes a rag and applies pressure

“Ellie, you take care of her, we will make sure this place is secure. We probably won't be out of here for another hour until the horde clears,” Joel said going downstairs and Tommy went up.

You and Ellie sat in a small bedroom upstairs where there were two chairs by some windows. You held down pressure to your wound as Ellie set up. It was nice to watch her from the front. Her sleeves were pushed up again and the sunlight coming through the window brightened up her green eyes. It was like meeting her all over again; you really couldn’t get enough from watching her. “Okay, let me see it,” she instructs, her voice low. You lifted the rag to reveal some blood. You removed your sleeve and lifted the bottom hem of your shirt to rest on your shoulder. You wore a dark gray bralette with a deep V. Ellie cleaned the wound with alcohol- you winced.

It’s not the most comfortable thing to go through, but it wasn’t your first time. Ellie drew in close to you and held your arm. Her rough fingers were firm on your smooth skin. With her first stitch your chest rose as you held your breath in anticipation of the initial shock of pain.. but she was good, and the pain wasn’t so bad. You started to breathe again and she went in for another. You looked down at her hands, “You’re good at this,” you quietly purred.

Ellie examines your face looking down at her handy work. Without saying anything, her hand holding on to you, with just her fingertips, slowly slides up your arm, sending a wave of chills forming on your arm. Then, she grips you again as she sticks the needle in. You gasp and look away, closing your eyes and indulging in this mixture of pain and pleasure. “I’m almost done,” she says, drawing closer to you.

“Yeah okay,” you couldn’t say much more.

Your body stayed still under her touch. Her hands skillfully closed up your wound, “There,” Ellie admires her work and runs her thumb parallel to the stitch line. She lets go and puts the stuff away in your small medical pouch. There was deafening silence as you slipped your arm through your sleeve again. There was so much you wanted to say to her; ‘How did she get so good at suturing?’ She’s better than some of the students you’ve had, ‘And her hands..’ they were definite in every thrust and pull of the needle..

“A couple years back, Joel got hurt pretty bad.. It was just the two of us, and it took him weeks to recover. He was completely unconscious and needed stitches. I was shaking trying to hold on to the needle, I didn’t do a good job. I promised myself I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to him again..” she zips the pouch up, “so I practiced- even on myself.” Ellie rubs her tattoo.

“Does your tattoo cover up a scar?” you notice the uneven surface under the ink.

“Yeah, uh a chemical burn actually,” she gulps a smile and looks at you.

You meet her deflective smile with a concerned look, but you hold your tongue. You weren’t the voice of reason when it came to indulging in “self soothing”.. “When my mother was killed, there was nothing I could do but listen when it happened. I replay that day over and over in my head every night, afraid I might forget something important. After that night, I promised that I wouldn’t let her death go in vain. I became a better doctor.. And with the losses along the way,” you look down at the star staining your wrist, “I promised I wouldn't let them down.”

Your mother’s image comes into mind, then Emily's. "I guess… that’s the long version of me saying, I like to drink,” you laugh to yourself.

Ellie smirks, “Hah I drink too, but I like to smoke,” she tilts her head, “Have you smoked before?”

A sheepish grin spreads on your face, “A stale cigarette once, I almost threw up,” you scrunch your face and stick out your tongue in playful disgust.

Ellie shakes her head and laughs at you a little, “No I mean the good stuff.”

“Oh you mean-”

“Yeah, if you want, I can roll you a fresh joint when we get to Jackson.”

“I haven’t tried it, but it sounds fun,” your eyes linger on Ellie as the tension in the room shifts. Ellie held an air of confidence around her. She smiles and nods at your response then passes you your pouch.

You shake your head, “I can’t tell,” holding one end of the pouch.

“Tell what?” she leans in keeping eye contact.

“If you’re going to be a good thing, or bad thing for me.”

“Maybe I’m both,” she studies your mouth.

“I hope so,” you watch Ellie’s tongue whip across her lips and they glisten in the sunlight. You suddenly became very desperate to taste them when-

“Ellie, you almost done up there? We are just about ready to leave.” Joel calls from downstairs and you both hear footsteps coming up.

You start to pack your backpack again and Ellie gets up to return her chair back to the other side of the table.

“Yeah coming down,” Ellie calls out dryly. Joel was already approaching the doorway.

“Good, there's some stragglers outside the fence. We can still make time if we leave now. How’s your arm Aria?” He leans on the door frame.

“Yeah doing good,” you smile and put your backpack on slowly.

Joel digs in his pocket and hands some ammo to Ellie.

“I’m still good,” she scratches her ear.

“Me too,” you clear your throat.

“Okay,” he puts it back in his pocket, scratching his head nonchalantly.

You stand next Ellie, “Ready?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“Alright…,” Joel leaves and goes back down.

Ellie rolls her eyes and leans on her hip. You couldn’t help but laugh at her frustration. She turns around, “What?”

You take her hand, “Just c’mon,” and lead her to the stairs.

Going down, shots were fired outside. Joel and Tommy start killing stragglers and Ellie joins them outside.

“All patched up?” Hannah comes over with a suggestive smile.

“Mhm,” you smile. You check her bandages and help her up off the couch. She will be recovering for the next couple weeks. “I think we have a date.”

Hannah’s mouth dropped in surprise, “Wow you held back huh? Taking things slow was never your thing Aria.”

You shake your head doubting, but a stubborn spark of hope lingers in your chest, filling your lungs and sitting in your throat. You look over at the window panes lining up to the ceiling.

“But maybe this is a good thing,” Hannah reassures.

“All clear!” Tommy calls out from outside.

“Okay,” you respond. The twist of anxiety fills your gut again. The windows loomed high above like a wall of eyes watching, judging, unable to speak, to warn of something. You look around the room one last time before taking Hannah and walking outside.

“There it is,” Joel slows down, “ Jackson.”

+++++++

Song: Lesser Known Good - Artist: Nym - Released: 2011

+++++++

It laid beneath the mountains; your new home.

The gate opened into the stables. Ellie helps you off. “Welcome back!” a guy runs over, “Any encounters?”

“Just infected. We gotta set up a team. A horde is blocking the north trail by the library,” Joel says, giving his horse to a stable hand.

Hannah makes her way to you where she takes hold of your arm.

“I’m Jesse,” he comes over. He was charming and definitely had a good smile.

“I’m Dr. Aria Rose.”

“Hannah Moore, and this is Sophie,” she smiles a little too big.

Ellie watches from behind.

“I’m sure this one gave you a hard time,” He teases as he walks over to Ellie and gives her dab.

“Pfft, never.”

“Has anyone seen my wife?” Tommy calls out.

“He was cute,” Hannah whispers.

“I’m gonna find Eugene and set up a team for that horde, I’ll be seeing you later,” Joel nods a goodbye to Ellie and you.

“Tommy she’s walking on over!,” some guy on the watchout tower calls down.

“Do you think he’s single?” Hannah asks.

“If you like him, then he obviously isn’t,” you respond.

“Hannah!?”

A man and woman come running over and Hannah lets go to embrace them. “Bienvenue,” (Welcome) the woman says, almost crying. It was her aunt and uncle, the closest living relatives she had. Hannah had survived this trip and gave birth. She owed it all to you, her best friend, her sister.

“Thank you doctor,” they also came over to give you a hug.

“De rein,” (You’re welcome).

Hannah hugged you goodbye and they took Hannah and Sophie away. You promised to catch up with her soon.

You walked over to Ellie. “Was that?” she asks.

“Her aunt and uncle. Mission accomplished.”

“Dr. Rose?” an older short hair blonde woman comes over.

“There you are,” Tommy walks over to the woman and they hug.

“I’m Maria,” she shakes your hand, “ Welcome to Jackson. You must be tired from the trip. I have a place for you to stay. It’s not permanent but it’s the best we can do right now. Tomorrow I’ll bring you to the Medic tents and hospital and get you acquainted.”

“Sounds good.”

“Aria here did a whole g’damn c-section yesterday at the camp. Saved that girl's baby,” Tommy praised.

“Are you serious?” Jesse chimes in.

“I’m not surprised, that’s exactly what we need on our medical staff- someone who can work under pressure. Let’s get going and get you situated, Aria.” Tommy follows behind Maria, “Ellie you thinkin’ of coming by later?” she turns around.

“I’m helping Joel clear up the infected by the library. I’ll come by afterwards.”

“Okay, it’s pasta tonight. Stay safe out there.”

Before leaving with Maria, you turned to Ellie, “Thank you for taking care of me earlier,” her eyes were soft and lips were in a more prominent pout. You take a step closer, “When I’m settled in, maybe in a day or two, I want to see you, and we can do what we talked about.” Her hair frames her face and you push a strand behind her ear. She looks at you- eyes almost begging for you to stay.

“I want to see you too,” she almost whispers. She attempts to grab hold of your hand but she retracts before you could notice.

“Good,” you tenderly touch her bicep, then turn to catch up with Tommy and Maria.

Ellie watches as you leave the stables.

“She’s cute,” Jesse says leaning on the fence, “in a super smart doctor-y kinda way. You think she’s into comic book nerds?”

“I dunno,” she feels a tinge of doubt, “but we have plans, so..”

“Wow, like a date? She hasn’t even been in Jackson an hour and you’re already courting her?”

“Um who the hell says courting?”

“Not me, usually, especially not for you,” Jesse starts kicking dirt, “I mean no one else in Jackson seems to interest you, it’s good you’re getting back out there.”

Ellie bites her tongue. “You’re such a sap,” she teases.

“Space is a bit tight. If you choose to stay in Jackson permanently, we can arrange for housing, but in the meantime, I hope you find yourself at home,” Maria leads you into the guest bedroom of her and Tommy’s home.

“This is perfect Maria, thank you,” you looked around the bedroom; A full size bed, your own bathroom, a desk, everything you need. Your bedroom was situated downstairs across the hall from Maria’s office and your window faced the backyard.

Maria left you to settle in, but before you could unpack, you removed your top and looked at the stitch work in front of the mirror. You can tell there was going to be minimal scarring, but a scar nonetheless. You think about Ellie’s hands on you, her touch as she held you. You took pleasure in knowing that this scar will forever remind you of that. You look at the star on your wrist and smile.

END OF EPISODE 2

CLOSING CREDITS

Ellie Photo Credits

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Closing: Rahaf on pinterest - https://pin.it/4hmG4tgQu

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chaithetics · 10 months

Note

I was rewatching season 3(the Kendall birthday episode) and I thinking, maybe Stewy and Porce are married, or other story of course; and the part where Ken takes the siblings to see the mocking pictures and it could have one of Porce and Stewy together and Kendall "jokes" about the "crying baby and the shark" and it really upsets her(as it should) and even the siblings are upset by this, and she just turns to him and says "this is why my kids are playing with their cousins(Sophie and Iverson) ,so they don't grow up like you" and goes away. I think that'd be powerful, because the kids have a true bond, Rava and Porce are true friends and Ken is a j*rk, and when Stewy finds out, there'll be a reckoning

Porcelain and the Shark: Too Much Birthday

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

(reader has anxiety, no use of y/n, physical descriptions or other names but does have the nickname Porcelain/Porce - due to family viewing her that way not because of her complexion)

Word count: 3.1K

Chapter warning: 18+ MDNI (smut-free fic) established relationship, fluff, soft Stewy, anxious reader, some familial angst, some cussing, some misogynistic views, Roys being Roys.

Authors note: Thank you so much for sending this in lovely Nonnie! It was such an inspiring ask, I hope you don't mind the few changes I made, please do let me know what you think! I adore you! I'm so glad to be out of hospital and after reading this prompt I was inspired to rewatch this S3 episode. I went a little off-track and I think this one is a bit different to other fics but I made the connection about the misogynistic tones with this and also the poster that Shiv had and saw it as a great opportunity to explore and develop Porce and Shiv's dynamic. Especially with all the asks about girlhood in film and then with the Barbie film re-prompting those conversations I just wanted to explore it even more (this doesn't have Barbie spoilers or mentions btw) so I finished it pretty quickly. It's nice to be back! I'm still pretty unwell despite being out of the hospital so I can't promise or commit to a writing schedule again yet but I'll definitely still be writing more Stewy (I've had a few Barbie inspired asks which I want to get around to asap as well haha). I appreciate you all and I hope you enjoy this! Please do let me know what you think, I'd really appreciate it! Comments, reblogs and asks are more than welcome and appreciated! I adore you all! 💗(PS this hasn't been proofread..."

*****************************

Kendall was sensitive, controlling, and obsessive. Which often manifested around certain significant events and moments in his life. It was a quality all of the Roy children seemed to share to an extent, you’d seen it in your siblings numerous times and even occasionally yourself.

Kendall’s birthdays were often disastrous, he wanted perfection, he wanted to fill the hollowness inside with extravagance, validation and company. But it never quite was good enough, it was always disappointing and fell through somehow. You knew the self-created stakes would be even higher for Kendall as it was a ‘significant’ birthday along with the latest edition of family drama. Shiv’s letter had hit pretty hard and far.

You weren’t sure if any of your siblings would go, probably Connor, loyal as always. Rome? Maybe? He had an interesting, pained soft spot for Kendall. Shiv…? You’d think she wouldn’t want to show after recent events but Shiv was cunning and clever. She could show up to play a mind game perhaps? Or maybe they’d show up on behalf of your dad to really get into Kendall’s head. Would your father even attend? You assumed he’d been invited.

It was a lot of questions swirling around in your mind, you weren’t sure of any of those answers. Which was part of the reason why you were certain you needed to go, some visible and physical support for Kendall as you knew he’d be crumbling, you’d all been walking on eggshells your whole lives but the last few years for Kendall, they’d been getting more and more brittle.

You feel a little anxious as you’re stuck so deep inside your head until a familiar and soft voice brings you back.

“Where’d you go?”

His tone is laced with neutrality and an air of caution but his face clearly says that he thinks this is all a bad idea. He looks at you sitting down, facing the mirror, he thinks you look gorgeous but he notices your legs bouncing now that you’re back in reality.

“I was just thinking about Ken.” You try to keep your voice level, without a drop of any emotion.

“We don’t have to go-”

“No-”

“I don’t think we should go.” Stewy resigns. It’s at least the twelfth time he’s said it today.

Stewy hadn’t RSVP’d, he hadn’t acknowledged his separate invitation to yours and had been somewhat silent regarding Kendall. Which was extremely unusual. He didn’t like the direction of the mess of Waystar’s strategic and boardroom politics and his relationship with your family personally and professionally was strained.

You had to go to Kendall’s birthday to support him and you didn’t want to go alone. You felt bad about it but you and Stewy were both aware that the optics of Stewy being there was beneficial for Kendall’s sake.

“I know.” You sigh as you shift a little so that your head is facing him more as you look up at him standing. “He needs this though…And I need you.” You walk over to Stewy, giving him a gentle peck on his soft lips. “Please?” You press your lips against his and wrap your arms around the back of his neck as it deepens, his tongue brushes against yours and your hand tangles a little in his hair as you feel his hands wrap securely around your waist.

“We’ll just go for a little bit?” Your voice is soft as you break away from the kiss, you start to caress his cheek, your fingers dancing over his handsome beard that never ceases to amaze you with how well-trimmed and clean it is. Stewy tilts his head to gently lean his forehead against yours and nods as he inhales.

“You’re too good to me.” You whisper as you give him another kiss on the lips, you can taste the whiskey on him from his drink that’s sitting across the room half-empty. He’s sweet and his touch is so gentle with you.

“Well you’re perfect, you deserve nothing less baby.” He says as he gives you a quick but soft kiss on the lips. “Now, am I matching my turtleneck to what you’re wearing?” He asks with a smug smile. You laugh a little at that and nod, giving his cheek another stroke and then a quick peck on his lips before he squeezes your side and then walks over to the walk-in wardrobe.

****************************

You’d always been anxious about the concept of nannies and babysitters and when those services had been needed you’d preferred to have Connor (when possible) and Stewy’s family watch your children. But you trusted Rava with your life, you adored her and you knew she adored Sophie and Iverson more than anything. So with her reassurance, your children were with their cousins and would be looked after by Rava’s nanny. Sophie had been loudly looking forward to some quality time with her younger cousins which was sweet.

Those thoughts and the anxiety you’d had quickly left your mind though as you and Stewy walked into the venue and through what you were horrified and shocked to learn was a model of Caroline’s vagina.

“Do you think he talked to her about…this…?” You asked Stewy with widened eyes as you waved your hand around gesturing to the bizarre scene of a campy body horror film in front of you.

“No.” Stewy said as his eyes flitted across the room once again to take in the nurses, surgical equipment and very briefly, a “replica” of his mother-in-law's vagina. It was beyond reason, even for Kendall. “They don’t talk in the first place.” He spoke as his hand wrapped around your waist a bit tighter, pulling you in closer as he then navigated you both towards the bar. Stewy was certain alcohol would be necessary to make this night bearable, it was inevitable that someone would blow up.

As you and Stewy stand by the bar waiting for your drinks a man comes over, you don’t think you’ve seen him before and you’re not the biggest fan of the smug expression on his face as his eyes hone in on you.

“Hey, I’m Kyle.” He says boldly, Stewy’s right next to you with his hand on the small of your back. Your ring is visibly on your finger. You’re kind of surprised at the audacity of him, especially with Stewy right next to you. You look at him a bit confused, hoping he’ll end it but his smile persists. “So what’s your name?”

You say your first name as Stewy wraps his arms around you, leaning against your back with his head on your shoulder, making a point.

“Shit, you’re a Roy?!” Kyle asks, you see the flash of excitement in his eyes at that prospect. It grosses you out.

“Hosseini Roy.” You say somewhat firmly, as Stewy quirks an eyebrow and then starts to press some kisses to your shoulder and your exposed neck.

“Right, where’s your husband Ms Roy?” Kyle asks. You don’t know if he’s a stupid asshole or an arrogant one but you know for sure he’s one either way. You feel Stewy chuckle a little at that as the movement of it and its breath tickles your neck.

“The international space station-” You dramatically quip, and Stewy stops his kisses for a moment to laugh at that against your neck. This stranger is being ridiculous and so you may as well if he’s going to be so oblivious, it just so happened to be convenient that Tillie really liked space books and toys at the moment.

“That must be lonely-” Kyle cuts you off and the smirk on his face is too much. You scrunch your face up at him in annoyance.

“Can’t you see that my husband is here? Literally right here?! The whole time you’ve been doing this. Why the cuss did my brother invite you?” You ask with an eye roll as you take Stewy’s hand and walk off before Kyle has a chance to say anything else.

“What a douche.” You say as you lean your head against Stewy’s arm. He pecks a kiss to the top of your forehead with a grin on your face.

“You handled that impeccably.” He says with a small chuckle.

“Well, your act was pretty good.” You say moving your hand to rest against his back and trace patterns there.

“The international space station, I’ve never been. Do you think it has some villas with good views?” He asks playfully.

“Possibly. I don’t think we should invest in space tourism or realty though.” You answer and he laughs.

“Does Tillie think I’m an astronaut?” He asks, thinking about Tillie’s fascination with space.

“No. She’s never said it and I haven’t told her that. But I do think our children are far too young to understand the financial market.”

“You sure? I’d understand if you were worried Jonathan was going to mansplain stocks to you.” Stewy teases, as he presses another kiss to your head as you scoff.

“We’ll leave the mansplaining to you, darling.” You say tilting your head up from his arm to press a kiss to his lips, they’re soft and warm. He looks at you with a large smile.

It’s not long after that that somebody who knows Stewy through work comes over and the three of you have a conversation for a few minutes, you’re pressed into Stewy’s side with his arm around you. You tilt your head and then you see Shiv and Roman coming in and then there’s Ken.

You’re stuck inside with a hit of worry at first, you look at your handsome husband as he’s mid-sentence talking to this finance bro that you’re not the biggest fan of but who is considerably less gross than Kyle. As Stewy finishes his sentence you quickly cut in placing a hand gently on his cheek, he leans into the touch and looks into your eyes affectionately.

“Sorry, Kendall’s over there, I’m going to go over. I’ll find you after okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course, baby.” He nods and your lips brush for a quick affectionate kiss, you apologise to the man that you’ve been in a conversation with who nods as you walk off.

You walk over to where three of your siblings are discussing and come over when you hear Shiv saying she couldn’t find a card that said “Happy birthday” and “Get well soon” You look at her with a somewhat pointed expression, she shrugs slightly and raises her eyebrows at you.

After he hugs Shiv, Kendall’s eyes land on you and he smiles. You can tell that he’s glad Shiv and Roman came, even if they’re biting him. It makes you sad but you’re glad that he at least has some solace in that. There’s a bit of banter and you do raise your eyebrows when Roman asks about the vagina replica. When he does his little pleased expression and gesture at being told he can take it home you glare at him.

“Roman!” You exclaim and he smirks at you.

When Shiv asks if Stewy is there, there’s a pointed look from her, some smugness and a pointed look from Kendall but it’s different. It’s more desperate. You nod.

“Yeah, uh- Stewy’s here. He was talking to some finance bro. He’ll come over soon Ken. I just wanted to say hi first” You say. You’re not sure if it’s a half-lie or not yet. But you know it’s better for Kendall’s sake for you to say it, he nods at that and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t read but boy does it worry you. Shiv drops a few more names and it’s very clear that she and Roman showed up to use it as a business opportunity.

“Hey, I got something to show you. This way. This way!” Kendall says somewhat excitedly and then walks ahead with the Roy siblings following him.

You watch Roman hand Kendall an envelope and after that he retreats back a bit for Shiv to go ahead of him, you raise your eyebrows at him and he raises them back at you.

“Please tell me you’re not stirring the pot?” You ask quietly as you walk side by side.

“I’m not- it’s nice- it’s nice. It’ll be good for Ken.” Roman says, his tone is earnest which surprises you.

Kendall then grabs your attention by talking about what he’s going to show you, you recognise some of the names and you’re intrigued by whatever it is based on that and Kendall’s imagination.

You walk into a room that’s being used as an art gallery space. As you walk in your eyes are immediately assaulted by the fictional headline of Roman. Roman’s response is more upbeat and amused than the tone of his voice or his facial expression. You can see it in his eyes, he’s retreated somewhat and he seems to get lost the longer he looks at it. Everyone knows of his intimacy issues and it’s cruel to point them out in this way you think.

You look at Shiv’s and you just feel angry. It’s a pit in your stomach of fire and you don’t feel this way often, it’s an odd feeling but it’s strong. Connor gets angry with Kendall over his and you understand that but you’re more focused on this. What was Kendall saying? Adding more stigma and cruel jokes onto sex workers? Shaming his sister for her sexuality? Reducing her to just an anti-feminist sex joke?

Shiv’s bobbed around hers and then her eyes land on your one. You turn, already upset at Shiv’s as you clock her shocked gaze at yours before you get a chance to look at it, to process it.

It’s an image of you from your childhood as a baby, it’s been digitally altered so that you’re a baby and you’re in shark-infested waters. You read the headline and comments and feel tears forming in your eyes and they’re hot. Your eyes flit between yours and Shiv, Shiv’s doing her best to hide her discomfort.

Shiv looks at you, her eyes silently saying “I can’t say anything.” And she can’t. You know that. Each step of hers is a careful calculation to avoid the emotional, hormonal, overbearing, hypersensitive, incompetent woman accusations they already throw at her. Whether it’s unspoken or spoken, and it’s both, they all say her head is unfit for that coveted heavy crown.

As a woman, sister, and mother, it’s already there. Your fate, reputation, and purpose. You’re emotional, a crybaby, sensitive and hormonal. But unlike your siblings, and well Shiv, you do not need nor want that tragic fate that they all betray each other for. While there is a sting in providing them ammunition for those perceived claims from your actions and words, it won’t kill you in the same way. You give Shiv a small nod, a silent “I know.” That is only for her.

“What the absolute fuck Ken?” You ask, he looks at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” He asks with a chuckle.

“What the fuck is this?” You ask gesturing behind you to the large images of you and Shiv in your brother’s eyes.

“It’s a joke, c’mon you don’t need to uh get so emotional about it-” He says and you let out a humourless laugh at that.

“Kendall?! This is disgusting! You’ve reduced Shiv to ‘wife of Tom Wamsgams’ yes, because that’s all she is?! A wife? Oh, and it’s an embarrassing joke to say she’s a sex worker?! So your Times Up campaign is just strictly performative? Mr Fuck the Patriarchy is actually a SWERF trying to humiliate his sister and women for an already stigmatised career? And this is coming from the fact that Shiv has a sexuality…?” You question, he looks at you, not saying a word. Shiv stands near you watching you carefully, as Roman looks down uncomfortably and Connor and Willa stand together tensely. You’ve never spoken out like this against any of them.

“And what is this?” You exclaim as you point to the image behind you. “I’m your sister, you’re meant to care about me. Not infantilise me like that and make cruel, perverted jokes about my marriage. It’s sick Kendall. Stewy and I are there for our kids- we probably see Sophie and Iverson more than you do. This is why they’re close and Rava and I work so hard with them all, so they don’t end up doing this.” You breathe out shakily for a second, Connor looks at you sympathetically, Shiv is still silent but she’s grateful for everything being said. The tears are hot and burn your cheeks where they stay. “You have no idea what it’s like and you’re part of the problem. This is just cruel and it all reeks of so much fucking misogyny. I’ve-I’ve defended you. I’ve defended and supported you my whole life- I didn’t, I didn’t even sign that letter because it was harsh and cold but this is misogynistic and disgusting. This is just so mean and gross.” You finish.

“Fuck off.” Kendall says, it’s somewhat playfully, he has a smirk on his face but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I can’t do this Ken, I can’t. You need to reflect on this and just do better. For us, Rava, Sophie. Just everyone.” You sigh out as more tears come, there’s nothing else to say to him and you’re ready to leave.

Shiv looks at you again, it’s not a scowl or an attempt at nonchalance. It’s also not a smile but her facial expression has softened. There’s another silent conversation, one that surprises you both as they often happen with every other sibling you have except each other. For you both, it’s a moment of understanding. It’s a genuine thank you and the usual, unusual display of Roy love and affection. You both do care about the other and you’re bonded in the impossible difficulties of being a woman. A brief few seconds of sisterhood are shared between you both. For possibly the first time, and even though you both know Shiv may never see you as more than competition due to her nature and your upbringing, you hope it’s not the last time.

You nod looking at her, giving her a small, tight-lipped smile and then leave the room to find Stewy. Shiv watches you leave and gives your quickly retreading silhouette a small smile.

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haesunray · 3 months

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FINDING MEANING — l.dh, s.hb (PREVIEW)

PAIRING: (mainly) haechan x fem!reader, best friend! sung hanbin x reader

GENRE: major angst, eventual fluff, classmates to lovers, super slowburn.

PUBLISH DATE: to be determined.

WORD COUNT: to be determined.

WARNINGS: contains heavy and triggering topics. self-reflection, grief and unhealthy representations of mourning, character death (hanbin), reader goes through grieving process, self-harming behavior and drug abuse. A few sentences in the beginning about weight insecurity, fat-shaming, and weight loss. If any of these topics are triggering for you, please proceed with caution, or skip the fic. You are responsible for what you choose to read. Because this fic has pretty dark and serious topics, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Due to the nature of the fic, it will take a while to get into the Haechan x reader part, so if you’re looking for something lighter, this might not be the fic for you hehehe

SYNOPSIS: you had never been good at dealing with loss. with the passing of your best friend still a fresh wound in your heart, you find yourself alone in the dark, left to pick up the pieces of your grief.

then one day, against all odds, you find something that might just be your compass, in the shape of a boy named lee haechan, who swears he will stand by your side to navigate the storm.

And though the pain in your chest makes you struggle to breathe, he chooses to stand with you under the rubble of your broken world, and he shoulders some of the weight.

NOTES: a good friend of mine passed away very recently and I needed to write something to get it off my chest. Maybe this will help me process my grief, or maybe it won’t. But i found the process of this very therapeutic. I sobbed a lot while writing this, just because the main character is a reflection of how I’m feeling currently. It’s mainly a self-indulgent piece. I’ve experienced so much loss in the past few years, and this is a cathartic piece for me.

(Side note) I’m actually kinda nervous to post this since it’s literally my first fic on tumblr but I hope it goes well!

THEY SAY HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS, and you suppose they are right.

For your home had been left a heaping swelter of smoke and ash, doors torn from hinges and paint scraped from walls. There were no remnants of the solace you once held in your sacred home, now reduced to gunpowder and gasoline, and all that is left is a house that isn’t quite a home, leaving you feeling a stranger in your own house—an alien in your own body—and you can’t help but curse the very person who created that quote because how dare they make you feel so powerless, knowing that you had lost the very one who held your heart, and now you will never get it back.

The irony of the quote is not lost on you. The positive implications; that a home has no bounds, that four plaster walls and a shingled roof don’t fit the criteria. That instead, a home is made of flesh and blood and sweat and tears.

You found your home when you were six. You found him in Mrs. Park’s kindergarten class in the shape of a round boy named Sung Hanbin, with grubby glue stained fingers and paper cuts from the broken origami butterfly he had made you. Your home had a gummy smile and eyes that reminded you of summer days in Busan, and a heart so big, it made your home feel like a castle of gold and ivory. He invited you in and you made it your own, and the origami butterfly was the first decoration you placed on the shelves of your newfound house.

You protected your home when you were ten, earning a month of detention when you used a pair of your mother’s favorite kitchen scissors to cut off Sophie Jung’s long ponytail on the playground after she made him cry by calling him a ‘chubby potato,’ (and at the smile he gave you as you wiped away his tears, you realized you’d gratefully take a year of detention if it meant he’d smile at you like that again).

You’re fourteen when Park Jeongmin spreads rumors about you to your whole grade because you rejected him, and when the whispers start to crawl up your back and dig holes in your mind, Sung Hanbin is there to walk with you and defend your name. He pulled you into his warm, enveloping arms and told you not to listen to the whispers, and yet he was the one who seemed to be stewing in anger. It was the first time you had seen Hanbin angry, and it was the only time he had ever gotten in trouble at school (and after punching Park Jeongmin straight in the nose and getting cleaning duty for the whole spring semester, he told you that he’d do it again if you asked him to).

You both were eighteen when he grew into his body and his beauty finally became noticed by more than just you. You protected him when he overworked himself over and over and over again, when he would run until his knees buckled and his chest collapsed, chasing an unattainable goal built on a road of the insecurities you tried to convince him were his own perfection. You held him when he refused to eat and sat with him when he cried, and you tried to hug his demons away even when they told him he wasn’t trying hard enough. You whispered in his ear that he was worth every bit of love you held and more, that every inch of your home was worthy of being lived in and loved, that it doesn’t matter what shade the walls are or how expensive it was, he was your home and you would never change a thing about it. And that no matter how many people looked at him now that he was conventionally attractive, you had always seen him as beautiful.

It’s New Year’s Eve of last year, and you both are twenty-two and more than a little drunk when you share a kiss. Had you both been more sober, it probably wouldn’t have happened. After all, at a Christmas party a few days earlier you’re sure you saw him ogling the boy from your poli-sci class, Zhang Hao—who had been taking up more and more of Hanbin’s time these days—but yet here he was, the boy who was nothing less than perfect in your eyes, pulling you by your flushed cheeks as the timer ticked down to one, and when the world erupted in cheers as the new year emerged, your ears fell into a calm hush, because Sung Hanbin’s gleaming eyes had fluttered shut and his lips finally met yours.

It was the one and only kiss you guys shared, and yet, despite the alcohol in your system, it was committed to your eternal memory, a vivid painting you had framed and hung in your home.

As the night came and went and the morning took its place, he woke you up how he usually did after a night of drinking; with a cup of coffee, a few ibuprofen, and a plate full of food, and no matter how much you wanted to say something about what happened the night before, you didn’t. And he didn’t either.

Maybe you both were pretending it didn’t happen. Or maybe he didn’t think it was important enough to bring up. Hell, maybe he didn’t even remember it. All you knew was that you were too chicken shit to open a can of worms that shouldn’t even be opened, because you thought it was better to keep your mouth shut if it meant keeping him.

Minutes turned to hours and hours turned to nights. Your calls going unanswered and rain checks from him created a monster inside you named jealousy. He was slipping through your fingers, opening the doors of your house to someone new. You hated the person it made you; hated the person you became. You locked the doors and chained him up. You protected his gold-filled heart because it was worth more than money, worth more than jewels, worth more than anything because he was your home and you couldn’t bear to open the doors to someone he might just like living there more.

Maybe it’s the vile, bitter taste of regret that runs through your veins right now, thinking that maybe if you had told him earlier about how you felt, it wouldn’t have come out sideways. Maybe if you had been less pathetic and scared to let him know, he wouldn’t have walked out the door last night. He wouldn’t have gotten in his car and left. Maybe he’d be in your arms right now, and you’d be joking about how silly Ricky’s hair looked or bickering over what to make for dinner tonight. Maybe if you had said something earlier, an unresolved argument wouldn’t be the last conversation you’d ever have.

They say home is where the heart is, and you suppose they are right. For your heart is ripped out of your chest, artery from artery and vein from vein, placed in the cold, unmoving hands of the boy who you would have died for, and now you’re left with the words you wish you had said, because you could have protected him and you didn’t.

This is your fault. You made him leave.

There’s no recovering from this. There’s no feeling better, because your home currently lies in a coffin, cold and breathtakingly beautiful as ever, and you see yourself lying right beside him because he had taken the part of you that was worth living for. The truth was impossible to reckon with, a bitter pill that you would never, ever be able to swallow down.

Sung Hanbin had died, and he took the world and everything good in it with him.

#haechan #lee donghyuck #nct #sung hanbin #kpop #zerobaseone #zb1 #nct x reader #zb1 x reader #nct haechan #haechan x reader #haechan x y/n

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captainsophiestark · 2 months

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Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Summary: When a serious magical threat comes to Mystic Falls and puts Josie and Lizzie at risk, Caroline and Ric send Klaus' ex down to New Orleans to seek safe harbor for the girls with him. Or, what if Y/N went to New Orleans instead of Caroline, and Klaus was free to see them.

Word Count: 2,966

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I chewed my lip as I stared up at the building before me. If this were any other situation, I would've turned on my heel and run by now. But there were two little girls, one on either side of me, who needed me to be strong. This was their best hope of being safe, which meant all of my stuff needed to take a back seat.

I took a deep breath, trying not to let the girls sense just how nervous I was, then started heading for the door to the bar. It was the middle of the day, so hopefully no one would mind me bringing two kids in with me.

Caroline and Ric had trusted me with Josie and Lizzie, and I refused to let them down. Some new supernatural none of us knew existed had come to town and, worse, had started going after the girls. So, I'd sat down with their parents, and we'd figured out a plan to keep them safe: take them to the bigger, badder supernatural who I used to know.

My eyes scanned the bar for the familiar face of Klaus Mikaelson, and after a moment, I found him. He was leaning against the counter talking to the bartender, and I was surprised he couldn't hear my heart beating out of my chest from here. I hadn't seen him in years, and I'd also rejected him the last time I saw him. But he was the best chance the girls had, so I was just going to have to hope he didn't hate me now.

I cleared my throat, shook my nerves off as well as I could, herded the girls into a booth where I could keep an eye on them, then turned to face the bar. I found Klaus already looking at me, his arms crossed and a curious look on his face as he leaned against the counter. A wave of emotions hit me at once, but I shoved back against the feeling, squaring my shoulders and putting one foot in front of the other until I stood in front of Klaus.

"Hello, love," he said, and my heart damn near stopped in my chest. I took a deep breath. "It's good to see you again."

"It's... it's good to see you again, too."

And it was. Most of my friends had been relieved when Klaus finally left town, and they'd freaked out the minute they found out he'd come back to see me. And at the time, I'd convinced myself they were right, and that it was better he was gone. But standing before him now, that slight smirk on his face, I realized I had really, really missed him.

"So what brings you to New Orleans?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked past me to where the girls were playing a clapping game in the booth. "I take it it has something to do with them."

I sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."

"And who's the father?"

Now it was my turn to cross my arms and raise an eyebrow.

"They're actually not mine. But I'd say you don't have a lot of room to judge, considering the reason you moved to New Orleans in the first place."

"Who said I was judging? I was just trying to gauge how jealous I might need to be."

I huffed a laugh, trying and failing to hide my smile by glancing at the ground. Nik grinned at me, and for just a flash of a moment, it was like nothing had changed between us since the last time I'd seen him.

But then I heard Josie and Lizzie behind me, and I remember why I'd come here in the first place. I sighed and met Nik's eyes again.

"I need your help."

His eyebrows immediately drew together, and he straightened up from the bar, taking a half step towards me. The intensity of his worried stare made my heart melt.

"What's wrong, love?"

"There's a new supernatural in town. Or a few new ones, I guess. We're struggling a little bit to deal with them, and they've made Josie and Lizzie their targets. Caroline and Ric are their parents for all intents and purposes, and we sat down and decided our best chance at keeping the girls safe is if I left with them, alone, and came to you."

"And whose idea was that?"

"...Mine. It... actually took a lot of convincing for Ric and Caroline to let me bring them to you."

A hint of a smile flickered across Nic's face as he huffed a barely audible laugh. His beautiful blue eyes met mine with the intensity I'd seen a thousand times for both good and bad moments, and it made my heart race.

"You will always be welcome here, with me. I'll keep the three of you safe."

Relief washed over me. I closed my eyes, taking a minute, and when I opened them again I found Nik still watching me intently. I thought he might lean in for a hug or a kiss or something else, but instead, he just gave me a small smile and nodded in the direction of the girls.

"Mind introducing me?"

The girls absolutely loved Nik from the first moment they met him, and he was nothing but sweet and patient and kind. He made a few absolutely ridiculous jokes that had them falling out of their chairs laughing, and had my heart melting all over again. We left the bar together, the four of us strolling through the streets of New Orleans as Nik led us to his home. He glanced over at me a few times with the roguish smile I'd come to love, and despite the fact that I'd come here on the run to protect the girls, I couldn't help enjoying this moment with him. In different circumstances, it might've just felt right.

"We're almost home, but I just had a thought," said Nik, his arm swinging back and forth with Lizzie's as they marched down the street together. Lizzie and Josie held hands, and I did the same with Josie, making us a little chain. I turned to smile at Nik over the girls' heads.

"And what's that?" I asked. Nik smiled at me, then turned his attention to the girls.

"My favorite ice cream place in the whole of the city is very close to here. Does anyone else feel like we ought to make a pitstop?"

"YES!" the girls screamed in unison. I laughed as Nik stopped abruptly, turning on his heel and then pulling us in the other direction.

"Alright, come on then!"

The girls cheered as they marched after him, and my heart soared as I followed along behind the three of them. I'd gotten to see Nik like this every so often in Mystic Falls, but a lot of our interactions were colored by whatever drama he and his family had going on with my friends and I. Being with him, like this, and seeing him being so amazing with the girls was seriously doing something to me.

"This place really does have the best ice cream," Nik assured me as we stepped inside and joined the line, the girls bouncing excitedly in front of us as we stood shoulder to shoulder. "Hope loves it."

"Hope... how is she? How's... how's Hayley?"

Nik smirked. "They're both good. We've had our rough patches, but Hayley and I have found our rhythm as coparents despite not being together."

I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, and Nik laughed.

"Now look who's trying to gauge their jealousy."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't hold back a grin all the same.

"Whatever. But... you're happy? Being a dad, and being here, and... and everything?"

The corner of Nik's mouth quirked up, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Like anything, it's had its ups and downs. But I wouldn't trade Hope for anything in the world."

I nodded, and the two of us fell into comfortable silence as we worked our way through the line. The girls were ecstatic to try their cones, and Nik recommended his favorite flavor to me, which lived up to the hype he'd promised. The four of us wandered slowly the rest of the way to our destination, which turned out to be an absolutely massive compound in the middle of the French Quarter.

Nik pushed open the door and led us inside just as the sun began to set outside. I came to a stop in the beautiful open space just inside the front doors, staring around at it in awe.

"C'mon, love," Nik said gently, resting a hand on my back and guiding me in the direction of the stairs. "Let's get the girls settled in for the night."

I just nodded, putting my focus back on the girls as we followed Nik through the massive compound. He pushed open one of the many doors along the second floor, letting us into a bedroom with two beds. I even spotted a few kids books on the shelves to one side of the room.

I slid my eyes to Nik with a raised eyebrow, but he just shrugged.

"For Hope, and any friends she might decide to bring over when the time comes. No reason to not be prepared, especially since we have the space for it." The corner of my mouth tugged up into a smile, that warm feeling spreading in my chest again. "I'll bring a few of her pajamas in, they should fit these two alright."

"Thanks."

"Of course, love."

Between the two of us, Nik and I managed to get the girls settled down and in bed in under an hour. They'd had a long, tiring day, after all, and if I weren't practically jittering with nerves after the afternoon I'd spent with Nik I'm sure I would've been right behind them.

Instead, I found myself following him after we closed the door to the girls' room, going who knows where in this massive house in his new life since he'd left Mystic Falls. After a few moments, I couldn't really take the silence anymore, so I spoke up.

"Where are the rest of the Mikaelsons?" I asked, my voice thankfully even. "I'd expected to see at least one of the siblings by now."

Nik turned to give me a little smirk over his shoulder, and I hated that he could probably hear my heart race.

"They're busy with other things for the night. And Hope is with Hayley having a mother-daughter weekend away from everything. It's just us, tonight."

My heart sped up even more, although that shouldn't have been possible. After a moment, Nik led me into the kitchen and headed straight for the refrigerator. I took a seat at one of the high stools at the counter, watching him as he moved.

"I assume you still like hot chocolate more than most other drinks?" asked Nik without turning around. I smiled.

"Absolutely. I know it's been a little while, but come on Nik, I'm not a completely different person."

He paused to give me a smile over his shoulder, then continued in his hot chocolate preparations. I scratched at something on the counter while he worked, trying to get up the courage to talk about all the million things hanging in the air before us. Finally, I cleared my throat and forced myself to look up, watching Nik's back as I spoke.

"Thank you for this, by the way. For taking us in, even after... Well, even after I told to leave me and Mystic Falls."

Nik sighed, bringing our two mugs of hot chocolate over and setting them down on the counter before walking around to stand in front of me. We were barely an inch apart, but he didn't make a move to close the distance anymore. I'd set a boundary the last time I'd seen him, and he clearly had no intention of crossing it.

"I will always be here for you if you need me, love. If you seek me out for refuge, or to change your mind and take me up on my offer to show you the world, or even because I make the best hot chocolate in the entire world and you just can't live without it... I'll be waiting."

I stared up at Nik, a slight twinkle in his eye, as I fought to keep tears out of my own. He'd truly caused so many problems in Mystic Falls. My friends' dislike-to-hate of him made sense. But he'd always been sweet and funny, patient and kind and understanding, with me. If I was totally honest with myself, I'd been starting to fall in love with him before I'd decided to side with my friends and push him away.

"Don't cry, love. It's alright," he said, his eyes scanning my face. I hiccupped, the tears finally starting to fall, a combination of all the different emotions and stressors of my past few days coming together and overwhelming me at once. I'd held it together for the girls, but now they were in bed and taken care of, so I could safely fall apart.

I leaned forward, falling into Nik's chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly around me the moment I did.

"It's alright. You're safe with me."

That brought on a whole new wave of tears, not just for the stress of the day, but for everything I'd lost with Nik, too. He just held me tighter, rubbing soothing circles on my back as I let it all out, then slowly started to calm down.

I pulled back slightly once I managed to get ahold of myself. One of Nik's hands stayed on my arm, and he brought his other hand up to gently cup my face, wiping away a few of the tears with his thumb.

"What can I do, love? Tell me how I can help you and I'll do it."

I choked back another sob, this one turning into a half-laugh.

"You've already done enough, Nik. More than enough. It's just... it's been such a long day. I feel like I've been barely holding back a complete stress breakdown for like a week, and I always had the girls with me so I had to keep it together..."

"Well then, why don't we get you settled into a room so you can get some sleep, hm? We can always talk more in the morning."

Nik started to move to help me off the stool and up to bed, but I stopped him, hands resting on his biceps. He raised an eyebrow at me but didn't move away.

"No, Nik. I don't want to talk tomorrow, I need to say this. I... I love you."

Any hint of humor or lightness dropped off Nik's face, replaced by completely serious shock. My heart was racing out of my chest, and I knew he could hear it, but I pushed on anyway.

"I think I was falling in love with you before, and I didn't want to admit it to myself. But being with you here, now... it feels right. There are a bunch of powerful murderers chasing me, trying to hurt two kids whose parents have trusted me, exclusively, with their safety, and I'm in a strange city far from anywhere I've ever called home. But for some reason I just feel... happy. Happy to see you again, happy to spend time with you, about a thousand times calmer than I was without you. You feel like home, Nik, and I love you. I just... that just feels like something you should know."

Nik's eyes had been scanning and searching my face intently the entire time I'd been talking, the slightest hint of wetness gathering in his own eyes. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth once I'd finished speaking, and he brought his hand back up to cup my face, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek.

"I don't think I've made it any secret how I feel about you, love," he said, voice soft and tender. "But in case you need to hear it again, I love you. Always and forever."

A few tears managed to sneak out and down my cheeks again, but this time I had a smile on my face. Nik's expression mirrored my own.

"Once... once all of this is over, do you think... well, maybe I could come back here. To New Orleans, once the girls are safe back home. That is, if... if your offer to follow you to New Orleans still stands from the first time you extended it?"

Nik beamed back at me. "I can honestly tell you that absolutely nothing would make me happier."

My smile grew to the point of pain as I stared up at Nik, a light in his eyes that I'd missed much more than I'd realized. I leaned forward just slightly, Nik mirroring my move as I glanced at his lips. One corner of his mouth rose higher in the troublemaking smirk that always made my heart race before he closed the rest of the distance between us, his lips meeting mine, soft at first and then with the same urgency pulsing in my heart.

I'd kissed him before, but it had always been tempered by concern for my friends, and about what they'd think. But this time, as fireworks exploded in my chest and thousands of butterflies took off in my stomach, I couldn't bring myself to care.

I was safe and happy in the arms of the man I loved, kissing him senseless. I'd missed out on a lot of times like this, but from now on, I didn't intend to let anything keep me from spending every second I could just like this, friends and insane supernatural threats be damned. Always and forever.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

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myfairkatiecat · 2 months

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Team foster keefe headcannons?

YES YES YES OMG

So first, the angst

Sophie and Keefe have some hard stuff near the end of canon bc Keefe has a really hard time letting go of his urge to never trust, to separate off, to run away, and to steal from Sophie to do it (has anyone else noticed the sheer amount of times his little rogue plans involve stealing from Sophie?? Because I DEFINITELY HAVE)

There’s a scene similar to the one in nightfall where Sophie tells him off for it again but then she realizes that what he really needs to hear isn’t that he has to work as a team, but that whatever he’s thinking or planning or considering—he doesn’t have to do it alone. It can be the worst idea in the universe and Sophie won’t immediately shut him down. She’ll head him out and brainstorm with him and she PROMISES. She tells him she wants to be there for him and she can’t do it if he keeps shutting her out.

And when that seems to be working, she adds, “I promised you I wouldn’t let you mess this up, didn’t I?”

Tearful hugs.

Sophie realizes that actually being willing to listen to Keefe’s most outlandish ideas both broadens her own horizons and strengthens her connection with Keefe. Also, in some ways, it’s really helpful for Keefe as he heals from years of never even trying to be someone who could be taken seriously (because that always hurt too much. Because he’d come home to-)

For a while after the ending of canon, Keefe and Sophie spend a lot of time in the forbidden cities just… existing together. And they’re able to get therapy and a human understanding of mental health is HUGELY helpful for Keefe (not writing off abuse as a thing that doesn’t happen) but also for both him and Sophie (PTSD->insomnia and all the things)

And they’re able to heal from everything that happened in canon together. And eventually they’re able to come back to the lost cities.

And these two are freshly mentally strong and also have been around humans for a long time and they’re ready to dismantle the whole lost cities political system bc abskdhskshssj

And now they’re back to a fluffy, lighthearted Sokeefe dynamic that we all miss.

Keefe keeps up all the silly flirting and Sophie loves it.

Did I mention they’re dismantling Elvin political systems? Also matchmaking. Bye bye. Discrimination against talentless people? Twins and triplets? NO MORE. Not if Sophie and Keefe say so

They do some of this by being really huge figures from a well known rebellion that a lot of people used to hear about, sure. But also I think that as a couple they just sorta become the Elvin version of social media influencers, and become sorta this idolized power couple by the lost cities. This is how they’re able to sway public opinion, bit by bit, to question all the stupid systems the elves have

Silly fun flirty Sokeefe is back in the picture, just like they deserve.

Obviously their pasts aren’t erased

Sometimes Sophie still is kept up at night

Sometimes Keefe needs to be reminded of things

Sometimes they aren’t totally okay

But they’re better than they were. Their hearts aren’t broken in the same way. There are still scars, of course, but they’re healed.

And honestly they deserve to be a power couple taking on the lost cities injustices (oh did I mention their friends are TOTALLY IN on this part? Including their Elvin social media campaign. Biana and Marella handle their public image ofc)

Anyway this is definitely a roller coaster of angst and crack and fluff but WHATEVER HERE HAVE THE HEADCANONS!!

Thanks for the ask!

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #Sokeefe #team foster keefe #keefe sencen #sophie foster

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chicksung · 2 years

Text

Slippin’ || P.JS

Genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, high school au, skater boy au, PG-15

Pairing: skater boy!jisung x tutor!reader

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: lots of swearing, underaged drinking, non explicit details of injury, kissing, she/her pronouns used, inaccuracy about skateboarding (i know nothing bare w me)

Synopsis: Three days a week, two teenage hearts, one boy to tutor and several missing assignments. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since you started tutoring the one and only park jisung, it’s that it’s not just his grades that are slippin

Sophie’s Salutations: OH SHE’S FINALLY HERE!! I am so so sorry for how overdue this fic is 😫 but she is finally here and I couldn’t be more happy to release it! A special thanks go to @lebrookestore for helping with formatting, editing and listening to me ramble and rant about this fic. Feedback is highly appreciated!

playlist

Taglist: @lunaflvms @mora134340 @hanniejisungi @jisunglttlstar @yixingtion @flower-lise @mark-wife-renjun-whore @beemarkie @thesunsfullmoon @grassbutneo @jaeyunverse @lebrookestore @earth-to-that-asian @heartshyuck @jenotapes @fullbitchsun @sunfuls @duolingofanaccount @gyuwrites

Prologue: The One and Only

“Do you know Park Jisung?”

God, at this point, who didn’t?

He was the boy who never said much, never paid too much attention, not even to the girls who gave him goo-goo eyes during class. To him, all that mattered was his bluetooth headphones, his god awful music taste and most of all, his skateboard. He spent more time mastering tricks on that damned piece of wood on wheels than he ever did studying. It would definitely explain his straight D’s on his semesterly report card.

It would also explain why you were asked to stay after class by your English teacher for a quick talk.

“I mean, I know of him. I wouldn’t say that I know him,” You answered, readjusting the strap of your backpack in an effort to dilute the awkwardness. She smiled gently, turning away from you to retrieve a brown folder from her desk. It was labelled in thick bold writing, most likely from a black permanent marker.

‘PARK JISUNG - MISSING ASSIGNMENTS’.

She thrusted the folder towards you and gave you a sad, sympathetic smile.

“Jisung is failing my class. No matter how much I’ve tried to engage him, he won’t listen to me,” she explained, watching you as you flicked through the familiar papers, “I’ve given him the highest grade I possibly could without any of the coursework, but it’s not enough.”

“Miss Barnes, with all due respect, what makes you think that I can help him pass?” You looked up at her, seeing her hopeful expression.

“Trust me, if there is anyone that can help a struggling student like Jisung pass this class, it’s you,” she placed her hand on the folder one last time before she grabbed her keys, “Good luck, Y/N.”

Luck? Yeah, god knows you would need it.

i. Miss Optimistic

“Are you Jisung?” You asked. Considering he was the only student who had their skateboard resting against the desk he had claimed as his own, and the only one who had a fringe long enough to act as a barrier between him and the outside world, you could only assume you had the right person.

He didn’t respond.

With furrowed brows, you repeated your question once again, but to no avail.

You bent over, the covers of your books pressing into your chest, and were met with strands of his hair in front of his partially closed eyes. Had it not been for the slight nodding of his head to a silent beat, you would’ve mistaken him for asleep. From this angle, you could see the dark cups of his headphones and you were going to take that as the reason he couldn’t hear you.

After another failed attempt to get his attention, you knew why it may not be the best first impression, desperate times call for desperate measures. With one swift movement, you yanked his headphones from his head and undoubtedly a few of his hairs too.

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed, looking up to you, an unfriendly scowl on his lips. You sighed, only pulling back the seat across from him.

“I did call your name at least three times,” you said emotionlessly, sinking into the plush seat and placing your belongings on the table.

“Whatever,” he said in annoyance, shaking his hair out of his eyes. In a desperate attempt to fix the impression, you held out your hand to him, inviting him for a handshake.

“I’m Y/N, your English tutor,” you introduced, the best expression you could offer him was an awkward lopsided smile. To your unpleasant surprise, Jisung laughed in your face. The mean and sarcastic manner he did only dwindled your hope of helping him.

“Miss Barnes set you up to this, didn’t she?” He ran his tongue over the fronts of his teeth, a possible habit you pondered.

“You seem like a smart girl, so let me give you some advice,” Jisung watched you in amusement as you leaned closer to him. “You’re wasting your time. You want my opinion? Take this back to Miss Barnes and we will never have to deal with each other again,” he pushed the folder back towards you, a smug smile on his face. You, determined not to be discouraged by some boy who cared more about a piece of wood than his grades, slammed the folder back down to prove your point.

“I will not. If I didn’t want to do this, I would’ve told her,” you told him matter-of-factly, opening the folder so the two of you could look at the contents of it.

“And what makes you think I care?” He asked, boredom lacing his words. You realised you weren’t making any progress with him, your mind frantically looking for a way to engage him.

“You know, Miss Barnes said that if you don’t pass her class, you’re gonna be held back a year,” you lied, keeping a cool and composed front, but behind your eyes, you were panicking and hoping he didn’t detect your lie. A long groan left his lips, slowly turning himself back to you.

“Fuck, fine. Fine. I’m listening,” he groaned, his hands raised on either side of his head like he was surrendering to the authorities. “What do I need to do?” Satisfied with how smoothly you managed to trick him, you started pulling out assignments and tests that Jisung had either failed or failed to turn in.

“This is the coursework you need to complete, and depending on whether or not you do well enough, the coursework you need to pass,” you explained, laying out each one on the table. Jisung ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh at the sight of the workload, stress becoming evident on his face. Most papers had been marked with a rather large ‘D’ or ‘D-’ and on the rare occasion, a ‘C-’. They weren’t exactly grades to be proud of, in fact, you found it quite disheartening that Jisung hadn’t even tried to reach out for help, but it was his own choice.

“It seems like a lot, I know, however, there’s still another quarter left until summer break. I’m sure we can get through this,” you offered him a friendly smile, but it was quickly rejected by a scowl.

“Right. Not to burst your bubble, Miss Optimistic, but I’m not exactly a good student, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he leaned forward, the scowl turning into a smirk, “and you expect me to finish this in a matter of weeks? Keep dreaming, sweetheart,” his mocking laughter made your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but this kid was getting on your nerves, and you were convinced he knew it too. Brushing off the pet name, you stared him down.

“If you want to be kept back a year, then that’s your decision, but if I were you, I’d rather not be the laughingstock of my friend group because I couldn’t keep my feet off a piece of wood with wheels. I’m here to help you, and you have a test next week, so you better start paying attention.” Another angsty teenage groan later and he straightened his posture.

“There. Are you happy now?” He complained, and in return, a sarcastic comment of your own.

“Ecstatic.”

ii. A Deal with the Devil™

“D+? Really, Jisung?” You scoffed as you looked over the results of his most recent English test, and it wasn’t exactly the turnaround you were hoping for. The black-haired boy could only shrug in response, obviously not too fussed by the result. “I literally went over these topics with you yesterday. How did you forget so quickly?” Again, you were met with a shrug. With a groan, you threw the paper to the desk and pressed against the back of the chair.

“What went wrong?” You asked gently, not wanting him to feel guilty for his grade. Yet again, he shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just forgot,” he dismissed, his bangs covering his eyes. A long sigh fluttered past your lips as you glanced between Jisung and the test.

“Okay, let’s go over this step by step,” you said, twiddling your pen between your fingers, its nib pointing at the first question, “what is the difference between an adjective and adverb?” Jisung mumbled, but his voice was too deep for you to decipher what he was saying, “Park, speak up and clearly.” He cleared his throat and tried again.

“One describes a word, one describes a verb in particular,” he answered, which satisfied you. However, it was his written answer that disappointed you.

“So why did you explain a proposition instead?” You lost count of how many times he chose a wordless response over actually answering you, but it was better than being ignored. You didn’t understand why he didn’t just provide a reasonable explanation, but upon pondering this, you noticed Jisung wasn’t looking you in the eye. In fact, he wasn’t looking at you at all, and you didn’t have to follow his line of sight to see what he was looking at.

“You went to the skate park instead of studying again, didn’t you?” You deadpanned, biting the tip of your tongue to kill the long string of insults and pent-up frustration from flowing freely. “Jisung, if you want to pass, you can’t keep doing this,” you felt bad at the fact you sounded like a teacher scolding a misbehaving student, but given the situation, you both found yourselves in, it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

“Please, you think I want to?” He looked away and scoffed, as if he was trying his absolute hardest to stop himself from laughing in your face, “Listen here, sweetheart. Why should I have to suffer through something I find no joy or passion in, just to appease the capitalist views of society?”

His hands comfortably sat within each other, waiting patiently for your answer. His blunt yet pointed response, paired with the nickname that dripped with sarcasm, flustered you and rendered you speechless.

You gaped at him like a fish out of water, desperately trying to breathe again. Amused, he placed his pointer finger underneath your chin and forced your mouth shut, “Didn’t want you to catch flies,” he snickered as you swatted his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed, folding your arms across your chest, “then what? At this rate, we are making no progress. Surely, there is something I can do to engage you.” You admit, your approach was desperate and another teasing opportunity on his end but you were running out of options, and never once was one of them to quit.

“There is actually,” Jisung answered, clicking his fingers as a lightbulb went off in his head, “what is your view on skateboarding?” His question made you roll your eyes, which apparently was enough of an answer for him.

“Good, I know exactly how you can engage me.” He gestured to the skateboard that leaned in its usual spot against the desk, “if I do well on my next test, you come to the skatepark with me, at any given time.” You groaned, your eyes rolling so far back, Jisung was convinced you were looking at your brain.

“Seriously?” Of course, he chose the skatepark, what else would he have said?

“If I have to suffer through something I don’t like, so do you,” he smirked, unclasping his hand to stick one out towards you, “so do we have a deal?” He looked at you expectantly, stifling his laughter at your conflicted expression. Pushing all voices to the back of your mind, you completed the handshake, giving it one firm shake at that.

“Deal.”

What the fuck were you getting yourself into?

iii. only Idiots catch feelings

“He’s so annoying,” you ranted to your best friend as you paced around your room, practically ripping your hair out of your head. “He thinks he’s top shit, like he has this sort of power over me.”

“Well, from the state you’re in, he kinda does,” your best friend Wonyoung commented, having to hide her smile to avoid having a cushion throttled in her direction at a hundred miles an hour. You swiftly turned on your heel, squinting your eyes at her.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You interrogated, walking towards her. Wonyoung snorted with laughter behind your pillow, her only source of protection.

“Repeat everything you just listed off to me. Everything about him you find irritating,” she prompted, placing the pillow in her lap.

“Well,” you started, a little confused, “he’s never on time, he gets some sort of separation anxiety if his skateboard isn’t within his field of vision, he is constantly listening to this shitty underground artist and thinks it’s the greatest piece of media to grace this planet, he never studies, he always has this stupid smirk on his face, he keeps calling me ‘sweetheart’. The list goes on, what’s your point?” You couldn’t comprehend why Wonyoung was giving you such a strange look, not until she spoke.

“Someone has a little crush,” she teased. You picked up the teddy bear that sat at the end of your bed and threw it at her.

“What the fuck? No! Absolutely not!” You denied loudly, flabbergasted by her outrageous statement.

“Well, do you think he’s cute?” She asked, hugging the teddy close to her body. You froze, her words drowning out your sense of reality.

Jisung wasn’t unattractive, by any definition of the word. He was devilishly handsome, which went hand in hand with his devilish personality. In fact, he was quite popular with the girls at school, and he either flirted with them out of boredom or ignored them completely. Sure, he was cute, but to go as far as to say that you had a crush on him? No way, absolutely not. You scolded yourself for even entertaining the stupid idea.

“Earth to Y/N? You never answered my question,” Wonyoung reeled you out of your thoughts so fast, you swore you felt dizzy. You straightened your posture and folded your arms, ignoring how your heart was hammering in your heart.

“No,” you answered curtly, your voice certain and sharp. She snorted and looked at her phone, the fast tapping on its screen signifying that she was texting someone.

“Sure,” she raised her eyebrows with her unconvinced response, thankfully deciding to abandon teasing you. The conversation may have been over, but her words still swam in your head and mixed your thoughts and feelings into a strange concoction you could only describe as confused. Despite all the mixed feelings and incoherent thoughts, you concluded that you did not like Park Jisung.

Only an idiot would catch feelings for him.

iv. Nerds are NOT morning people

You didn’t understand why Jisung looked so smug when you came in for the first of three tutoring sessions for the week. He adorned his regular black hoodie, black ripped jeans that were more holes than style in your opinion, and white vans with the skeletal structure of a foot painted on them with black paint. The only difference you could pinpoint was his headphones hanging loosely around his neck, translating to he was listening for you, waiting for you. It was a foreign idea, and one you had mixed feelings on.

“You’re here,” he spoke first before you had even sat down.

“It does seem that way,” you quipped, moving to place your pencil case and book on the desk when you noticed a sheet of paper on the table. Curiosity tugged at your heart, your fingers gently pulling it towards you.

“What’s this? Did you put this here?” You questioned him as you picked it up, your heart thumping as you flipped it over. Your eyes focused on two things, his name written surprisingly neatly at the top of the page and the large 72.5% marked at the top of the page. Your jaw dropped dramatically as you stared at the red number, and you could feel Jisung’s eyes boring into you, his smirk undoubtedly growing wider.

“I believe I recall a certain someone promising that she’ll come to the skatepark with me if I passed my next English test,” he spoke, cockiness coating every word he spoke like chocolate-dipped strawberries. You slammed down the paper, your face showing utter disbelief.

“How? How did you-” you stammered and stuttered before Jisung shut you up.

“You told me to study, so I did. Are you pleased?” Pleased would be a stretch. You were beyond ecstatic but you couldn’t properly express it, still trying to get over the shock of the whole situation.

“Jisung, that’s a B grade,” you stated stupidly, your speech granting you the ability to finally able to formulate full sentences. He cocked a singular eyebrow, smirking in amusement.

“Does that mean you’ll come to the skatepark for the whole week?” He pushed, testing your limits. You glared at him.

“What? No? Well, I-Maybe? Fuck, fine!” You knew you might grow to regret your decision but you would come to that consequence when it came around.

“Gimme your phone. You’re gonna need my number in that case.”

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Oh lord. The time had come. You groaned tiredly, rolling over to check the rather loud notifications on your phone.

demon spawn: hey

demon spawn: i’m at the skatepark

demon spawn: i expect u here in 10

You slammed your phone back down onto the nightstand, looking up at the time. 5:41 am. The numbers glared at you in their bright red light. You refrained from throwing a fit in the bed, in fear of waking your family.

You silently resented yourself (and Jisung too) for dragging yourself out of bed at five am on a Saturday because of a stupid bargain you made with a failing student just so he would study. He passes a singular test and thinks he’s on top of the world. Smartass.

“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you pulled on a warm jacket and silently slipped out the front door. You momentarily worried about how you were going to explain yourself to your parents when they realised that their child was not residing within the warm covers of her bed, but eventually abandoned the idea when you started to think about the possible consequences that would be in place. It was still dark outside, and the early morning air was cold, cold enough that it quickly numbed the tip of your nose.

Whilst recounting the last ten minutes of your life, your mind became a forest and you were very, very lost. You walked, and walked, and walked. You would’ve kept walking if it hadn’t been for the voice that called out to you.

“Is the skatepark that hard to spot?” The familiar voice that belonged to the one and only, Park Jisung. Grey beanie, white shirt, the classic ripped jeans, however switching out his regular black for blue, and black Converse, a style you had never seen on him.

“You know, judging from your personality, I never took you like a morning person,” you teased as you rubbed your eyes, an attempt to dispel the last of the sleep from them. Jisung snickered at your remark, stomping on the end of his skateboard to flick it upwards.

“Applying that logic, I never took you as someone who wasn’t. Aren’t nerds, like, supposed to like mornings?” You scoffed at his side smirk, crawling up the skate he was standing on.

Having only seen him hunched over on the cushioned chairs in the library, you hadn’t realised how tall Jisung really was, around 6’, 5’11 at the very least.

“There’s a reason I brought you out so early,” he announced, breaking your train of thought.

“You mean at the ass crack of dawn,” you quipped grumpily but listened closely for his explanation.

“Whatever you wanna call it, drama queen,” he rolled his eyes, shifting his skateboard to the edge of the dip, so his back wheels were touching the silver tube-like barrier, “but I wanted to show you the sunrise over the city. Thought it would be pretty,” he shrugged slightly, his eyes cast back to you.

“Really? You dragged me out of bed at a ridiculous hour of the morning to watch the sunrise?” You huffed, feeling annoyance rise in your chest, yet when he looked at you like that, you couldn’t channel that annoyance towards him.

“Well, and this,” Jisung winked as he placed his left foot at the front of his skateboard and he fell into the bowl. Picking up speed as he whizzed towards the other side of the bowl, he shot his hand out, catching the piping, the other hand holding onto his board as he turned it and his body to you, zipping in the same direction in which he came from. He slid back into the position he originally held next to you as if he weighed nothing as if he had the dynamics of a feather in the wind. You looked up to him, clearly impressed with his stunt.

“Wow,” was all you could muster, making Jisung laugh. Not snicker, not sneer, but genuinely laugh, as if he had just watched a puppy fall over itself from excitement.

“I can do it again if you’d like,” he suggested, which was met with a positive reaction. You sat down, your feet dangling into the bowl as you watched him excitedly skate around the cemented pit. Your eyes followed him, drinking in every trick and stunt he pulled. An unknown smile broke across your lips, one that contained no nasty emotions, hidden by a sickly sweet facade.

Your heart gave a flutter when he skated past you and flicked his hair out of his eyes. Your previous annoyance had evaporated into nothingness and was replaced with something completely new, something different. Due to your nature of order and organisation, you didn’t like different. It threw off your whole balance and it would take a while to rebuild the balance you once had, now with the added weight of whatever ruined everything in the first place. However, this difference felt sweet, it warmed you against the chilly early December air. It felt safe, a homely feeling.

Still intoxicated by this feeling, you glanced to the sky, noticing that the previous deep navy that was littered with tiny stars had been broken up by streaks of burnt orange, pink and white.

“Jisung!” You called to him, pointing to the sky. The boy in question whipped his head around, almost slipping off his skateboard from his lack of concentration on the concrete he was skating along. You stifled a laugh and patted the empty space beside you, inviting him to fill it. He smiled softly, clamouring up the steep bowl and accepting your invitation.

“I understand why you wanted to show me now,” you sighed, shifting all your weight onto the palms of your hands. Jisung nodded wordlessly, mimicking your position. His feet kicked to and fro, an absentminded habit of his as his gaze shifted from the sky to you. He noted every feature of your side profile, specifically how the sunrise gave you a heavenly glow as if you weren’t a mere human being beside him, but in fact an angel. He examined every part of your face that was so uniquely yours.

“It’s so beautiful,” he breathed. You nodded, agreeing with him, but you didn’t see the context he was speaking in. Jisung knew it wouldn’t be long before you caught him, choosing to glance at his watch instead. “It’s nearly 7. We should probably leave before your parents realise you’re missing,” he commented, expertly hiding his reluctance to end this moment. You let out a deep but short sigh.

“Time flew,” you noted, stretching as you stood up, brushing the dust off your backside, “wait, what about your parents?”

“They won’t be out of bed until at least 9. They probably haven’t even noticed that I’m not at home,” he shrugged, tucking his skateboard under his arm, “and because of that, let me walk you home.” The bluntness of his request spooked you. You didn’t think it could even be classified as a request.

“Jisung, that’s not necessary-”

“Nonsense. I dragged you out here, let me at least take you home.” Your heart gave a soft squeeze at his words, and you knew you couldn’t turn him down. You pointed him in the direction of your house and set off down the path together.

You walked in silence, partly awkward, partly not. It was as if you had spent every word in your vocabulary on each other and neither of you had a new word to say. The chill was still by and froze the tips of your ears. Jisung noticed you trying to rub your ears, as you would your hands, to warm them up. Without skipping a beat, he tugged his beanie off his head and offered it out to you.

“Here,” he muttered, his long fingers holding it loosely.

“Oh,” you whispered before breaking into nervous chuckles, “it’s fine. I don’t need it,” you held up your palm to push it back towards him, but he shoved it back.

“I insist,” he declared, his eyebrows raised expectedly. You groaned a small ‘fine’ and snatched the beanie from your hand, pulling it onto your head. Jisung let out a chuckle, tugging at the side so it properly covered your ears. You fell back into the silence and completed the journey to your house. You stopped outside the small wooden gate that allowed access to the front yard and the pretty garden. You turned on your heel and gave Jisung a small lopsided smile.

“Thanks,” you said, stumbling over your words and thoughts to say anything more than that. He nodded and smiled back. You bowed your head to take off his beanie before he stopped you.

“Keep it,” he insisted, “I’ve got plenty more at home. Besides, it looks better on you.” His words heated your cheeks, convincing you that if it were to start snowing right now, the snowflakes that landed on your cheeks would melt at first contact.

“O-Okay. I’ll see you later,” you smiled at him one last time before lifting the latch of the gate and walking towards the front door. Jisung nodded and spun on his heel, impulsively crossing the street towards his best friend Jeno’s house.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, opening up your text messages with Wonyoung.

y/n only: fuck you. you were right. i think i am catching feelings

Satisfied with your sudden declaration to your best friend, you pushed open the front door. No sooner did you step through the threshold, than did you feel your heart stop dead.

“So,” your father started, “do you wanna tell us where you’ve been so early in the morning?”

v. Studying (your face)

You had dodged a bullet with your parents, the only punishment you received was to wash the dishes for the next two weeks without complaint. A single complaint would result in not leaving the house for however long they saw fit. However, you weren’t too distraught about not hanging out with Wonyoung, but more about the tutoring sessions with Jisung.

Ever since that morning in the skatepark, your feelings about the skater had been mixed around and twisted. Sure, he was annoying, and boy, did he make sure to remind you, but it didn’t seem to bother you as much as it used to. You found it charming if you defined charming as the stupidly irritating characteristic someone has that you learn to tolerate.

As ‘charming’ as he may be, he still had assignments that were missing and needed to be done, whether he liked it or not. He still had to hold up his half of the deal.

You shifted from one foot to the other anxiously, waiting for someone inside to answer your timid knock at the door. Your palms felt slick with sweat, why were you so nervous? Maybe it was because Jisung had randomly texted you, asking if you could study at his place instead. His excuse was ‘a change of scenery’ or something like that.

Your ears pricked up at the sound of shuffling behind the door. The door creaked open and revealed a petite middle-aged woman, presumably Jisung’s mother.

“Oh, you must be Jisung’s friend,” she smiled, one that perfectly replicated her son’s.

“Yes. I’m Y/N. It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Park, I assume,” you extended your arm for a handshake, which she graciously returned.

“Yes. It’s so good to meet you too. Jisung doesn’t bring many friends over, aside from Jeno and Chenle. It’s nice to see a new face,” you felt your cheeks heat up over her words and you nodded.

“Speaking of, where is Jisung?” You asked politely, leaving your shoes by the door. Mrs. Park pointed up the staircase, her other hand ghosting over your shoulder.

“Up the stairs, third door on the right. There’s a sign with his name on it if you get lost.” You thanked her and trekked your way upstairs.

The decor was enough to tell anyone that entered the home that the Parks were a happy family. The wall beside the stairs was lined with family photos, ranging from the perfect nuclear family of a mother, father, and two boys; to sporting events, family gatherings, and birthday celebrations. It blended in perfectly with the white paint on the walls, with not a scratch or smudge of dirt in sight.

You reached the top of the stairs and spotted Jisung’s room immediately. A small sign was tacked at eye level to the door that read, unsurprisingly, ‘Jisung’s Room’ in childlike font, a glimmer of his childhood innocence shining through his hard outer appearance.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in,” his voice called from inside. You cracked the door open to see Jisung, one earphone embedded in his ear, a pen in between his fingers, and a small smile curved on his plump lips. “Took your time,” he teased as he paused his music.

“Interrupt study time, did I?” You teased back, placing your bag at his door.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he gave you a sly smile as he tugged the other earphone out and swung his chair around to you.

“Right,” you strung out the sound, paired with a sarcastic nod of your head. You leaned over, doing a quick once over of his desk, disappointed but not surprised when you found Jisung had not been writing out the notes you had set for his homework, but in fact, he had been writing what seemed like poetry on several different pieces of paper.

“Really, Jisung? I gave you one job,” you exasperated, collecting the pages to get a better look at it. Before you had a moment to decipher his almost illegible handwriting, he snatched them out of your hand.

“Don’t look at those!” He squawked, pulling them out of your reach, his cheeks colouring a dark pink. His reaction had caught you off-guard.

“Jisung, they’re just sheets of paper,” Jisung shook his head at your claim.

“To you, maybe,” he corrected curtly.

“What are they, then?” He opened the drawer of his desk, messily shoving the papers inside.

“It’s not important right now,” he dismissed harshly before seating himself on the end of his bed. You occupied his desk chair and cleared a spot to place your book and folder.

“Alright,” you began, retrieving an assignment from the folder, Jisung’s name etched on the paper in his teacher’s handwriting, “this is the next assignment you’ve been set, well reset,” you explained, watching his fingers steal the paper from your fingertips. He skimmed over the task outline, his eyebrows furrowing the more he read.

“Short story task?” He deadpanned, glancing at you over the paper. You shrugged at his apparent annoyance.

“I can give you some ideas,” you suggested, swivelling around to grab your book, accidentally nudging a pencil of sorts off the desk. Cursing under your breath, you leaned down and collected it off the ground. As you went to place it back on the desk, you noticed the gold inscription on it. ‘Salem Black Eyeliner Pencil’. You spun back around to the boy sitting not a metre away from you. You flicked your gaze between Jisung and the pencil. How had you not noticed?

“Are you wearing eyeliner?” You asked, amused. He snapped his neck towards you, seeming just as amused.

“Yes I am. Is there a problem?” He mused, going back to the rubrik in front of him.

“No, just didn’t expect you to wear it,” you admitted, twiddling it between your fingers.

Jisung shrugged, “It makes me look cool.” You cocked an eyebrow at his comment and scoffed.

“News flash, Park. Wearing eyeliner isn’t a personality trait,” you taunted. Jisung laughed quietly, leaning closer to you.

“Have you ever worn it?” He was met with silence, “No? Too much of a goody two shoes?”

“I-It’s not like that-”

“Then let me put it on you.”

You have no idea what compelled you to say yes. Maybe it was the cute way his lips turned up at the thought of you wearing eyeliner. Maybe it was the sparkle in his eye, or maybe it was just because you simply could no longer say no to him. You were now sitting opposite him, your hands resting in your lap and bumping knees with him. His left hand held your jaw to prevent your head from moving too much.

“Keep your eye open and look up,” he instructed, pointing to his roof, helping you notice the twenty or so glow-in-the-dark stars tacked to it. He began his fiddly work, keeping his hand as still as possible so as to not poke you in the eye. Your bottom eyelid spasmed from the sudden contact of the sharp pencil to it.

“Do I really need to tell you to stay still?”

“Sorry.”

Jisung’s finger wiped across his work, smudging and blending it a little, again causing your eye to twitch. He leaned away for a second to study his handiwork. You watched as a grin painted onto his pretty lips. Did you just call his lips pretty?

“Y/N,” your friend breathed, “you’re staring.”

“Am I?” You stuttered, your cheeks heating, clearly embarrassed. Jisung didn’t say anything, choosing to lean in closer. Your noses were millimetres away. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. As if on cue, Jisung’s gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips. Hesitantly, he slipped his hand along your jawline and cupped it gently. You would’ve squeaked had your voice not failed you.

Slowly, your lips touched his in a gentle kiss. It was hesitant, sweet, and filled with teenage exploration. Feeling him kiss back, your hand fell on top of his and added to the sweetness of the kiss. Your lips moved in sync with one another, each movement more heart-fluttering than the one before. Jisung pulled away reluctantly, the sparkle in his eye growing brighter with astonishment.

“Woah,” was all he could manage to say.

“Woah indeed,” you gave a breathless chuckle, your lips stretching into a smile. Jisung nodded before turning back to his paper, now a little crinkled.

“You should probably go home. It’s getting dark and you’re already on thin ice with your parents,” he advised, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Nodding, you climbed off his bed, stacking your belongings on top of each other before pressing them against your chest.

“If you need any help with the assignment, you have my number,” you rattled off as you picked up your bag from the door, “oh, and Jisung?”

He raised his eyebrows at his name, “Hmm?”

“Thank you,” you said bashfully, “for doing my eyeliner and, you know,” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, but he knew the silent words that died on the tip of your tongue.

“Anytime,” he winked and with one last giddy smile from you, you left the room.

Jisung let go of an unknown breath, slumping into his desk chair and opening his drawer. He retrieved the papers he had hastily stuffed away. His eyes lazily glided over the words, thoughts and rhymes messily scribbled onto the page.

He promised himself that he was going to rewrite it in a manner that was readable, but that’s what made it so precious to him. The raw emotion and scrambled thoughts were poorly printed, words crossed out for various reasons, the simple doodles that decorated the white space in between.

He exhaled again, picking up his pencil, searching for a blank space to fill in at least one thought. The scratching of an HB pencil against paper was satisfying to Jisung, but not as satisfying as the sound of the pencil nearly bouncing off the table from how hard he slammed it down. He gave a peaceful smile as he reread what he had written, the words flowing from his lips effortlessly.

“If only you knew how my heart races for you, Y/N.”

vi. Complicated

“Wonyoung, you know I’m not a party person,” you reiterated to your friend. She was begging and pleading for you to accompany her to the seasonal party she attended.

“Please Y/N, Jaemin’s gonna be there and I don’t want to show up by myself. I’ll look like a loser.”

“You’re gonna look like a loser either way,” you teased lightheartedly, tossing your phone to the side.

“Hey, that’s not nice. I’m practically your older sister,” she furrowed her brows at you.

“What’s in it for me?” You groaned, propping yourself up on one elbow to better glare at your friend.

“I heard Jisung might be there,” she gave you a suggestive eyebrow raise, “he’s skating buddies with Jeno, so knows Jaemin by association,” she continued. She was dead set on having you attend this party with her.

“Ugh. You know what? Fine,” you caved, your best friend’s face lighting up like a golden sunrise.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” She squealed, tackling you in a hug.

You snickered, “Only when you get your way.”

“Oh, do not. Now, come on. We need to get ready,” she pranced around the room like a child on Christmas morning and you had to laugh at her ridiculously high energy. The things you do for friendship.

When you pulled up to the address of this party, your jaw hit the floor. The ‘house’ was more like a mansion and was like a sister location to the White House. The outside’s plain exterior was decorated with LED lights, displayed from hidden projectors, and you could already hear the bad EDM music blaring from within.

“W-Whose party is this again?” You asked your friend in a state of shock.

“It’s Donghyuck’s, but Chenle’s parents are out of town for the weekend, so he offered up his place,” you understood why Hyuck wouldn’t pass up on such a gracious offer. You felt like a fish out of the water as you walked along the cobblestone pathway to the entrance. You forgot what made you say yes to this, but you refused to believe that was by the mention of a boy’s name and informing you of his attendance.

Before you could work out what to do, Wonyoung had been dragged away by people who you assumed were friends of hers, leaving you alone at the threshold.

“Congrats on your first party,” you mocked to yourself, a hint of fear behind your words. This is not what you were about. You were all rules and dress codes, expectations, and high grades. Certainly not cramped spaces and sweat, loud music, and underage drinking.

You weaved through the sea of strangers, faces blurring together beyond recognition. You had no idea where you were going, looking around desperately for someone to stand out to you. It wasn’t until you fled to one of the many hallways that you finally did.

Ripped jeans, customised Vans, a silver chain, and a tank top of a band he definitely didn’t listen to. That was Park Jisung to a T. He hadn’t noticed your appearance, wrapped up in a conversation with three girls you didn’t recognise. You assumed they were friends of his. You took note of the phone in his hand, the Mickey Mouse cover confirming that it was undoubtedly his. You pulled out your own and typed out a quick text under his name.

y/n only: look behind you, dummy

You saw him crane his head away from the conversation to check the new notification. He squinted as he read it before turning around, looking around like a lost puppy. His lips curved into a grin that pushed up into his cheeks when his eyes fell on you.

“You were the last person I thought would show up,” he greeted you with a side-on hug, one you reciprocated. You let out a breathy laugh.

“So did I,” you explained, “my friend dragged me here.” He nodded as he tried his best to hear you over the thump of the music, loud enough to resonate in your chest. He hadn’t dropped his arm from around you, somewhat pulling you into him and allowing you to inhale the intoxicating amount of cologne he had. You weren’t going to voice your complaints, it did have a pleasant aroma to it, one that you could get used to.

“Judging by how you dressed, you’ve never been to a party,” he poked fun, looking over it. Embarrassed, you pulled your top down a bit.

“Blame Wonyoung. She convinced me to wear it,” Jisung broke out in a smile, his hand trailing down your arm.

“It’s fine. You look good,” he commented, “did you want a drink?”

Your eyes blew wide. “Jisung! Neither of us is old enough,” you sputtered, shocked beyond words. He couldn’t help but laugh at your naivety.

“Thank you for reminding me,” he said with gentle sarcasm, “it’s really not that bad.” You shook your head.

“My parents would kill me if they found out I’ve been drinking,” you declined, resulting in a snicker from your friend.

“Goody-two-shoes,” he teased.

“Lawbreaker,” you quipped, albeit weakly. Jisung shrugged and looked into the swarm of people.

“I’m gonna grab one. Wait for me, okay?” His hand came up slowly, his index finger gently brushing against your cheek. The small action was enough for butterflies to erupt and flutter in your stomach. He stared at you for a moment longer before dipping his head downwards and pressing his lips against your forehead. You felt like a malfunctioning robot, unable to process and turning you into a giddy mess as he disappeared into the ocean of strangers. Amidst your flustered state, you hadn’t noticed the three girls Jisung had been talking to before he ditched them to talk to you instead. The daggers they stared into the side of your head were sharp, burning hotter than your cheeks. It wasn’t until you heard voices that you saw them, ogling you like three hungry wolves hunting the same rabbit.

“Is that her?” One muttered to the rest of the group. You weren’t sure if they were trying to be discreet, but if they were, it certainly wasn’t working.

“Has to be. Did you see how quickly he left the conversation? He never acts like that towards any of us,” another whined, her arms folded over her chest and her bottom lip jutted out like a spoiled brat who had been told no.

“Right? He saw her and suddenly we didn’t exist,” the third one rolled her eyes, shooting you a side glance, “I don’t know what he sees in her. What does she have that we don’t already offer him?

Your heart hit the floor at her words. You had honestly forgotten how popular Jisung was, especially when it came to the ladies. You remember your friends referring to him and his friends as ‘heartthrobs’ and ‘stupidly attractive’.

With that in mind combined with what you had heard, you reevaluated your social status compared to him. How much higher he was on the social ladder than you, how he was compared to a god on a skateboard, and you were compared to nothing more than dirt under his mostly pristine Vans.

The thought of it all was sickening. Suddenly, your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear, the hallway felt like it was collapsing around you, and the butterflies started to lodge into your throat like bile. You shouldn’t be here. You don’t belong here.

Fragments of thoughts collided in your mind, each one a ridiculous question with no solid explanation. With every person you bumped into, a new thought would project itself into your mind like a lottery, and with every ‘sorry’ you muttered, you would compare that thought to the situation you currently found yourself in.

The atmosphere was suffocating, the heat from the attendants mixed with the amount of sweat in the air made you feel flushed, in some sort of drunken daze, despite not having tasted alcohol in your life. Your sights were set on the door, your one way ticket out of here without having to consider the window as an option.

Between his conversation with Chenle, Jisung caught something moving from the corner of his eye. Normally, he would’ve ignored it, waved it off as someone desperately trying to make it to a bathroom for whatever reason. However, something about it made him turn his head, and his eyes landed on you. You seemed skittish, unwell. He swore he hadn’t been gone more than five minutes.

“Hold that thought, and my drink,” he thrust his aforementioned drink into his best friend’s hands and rushed after you. He shouted your name over the music, his calls falling on deaf ears.

He squeezed and pushed through people in an attempt to catch up to you. Winter’s freezing breeze brushed against his cheeks, the sensation enough to make him shudder.

“Y/N, slow down,” he called after you and you stopped in your tracks.

“I’m going home,” you told him, refusing to look behind you. You couldn’t bear to look at him, knowing that if you did, you would come face to face with the reason those girls had talked about you in the first place.

“I know the first party can be intimidating, but it’s not all that bad. Trust me. I can show you,” he continued, his hand resting on your shoulder. You slapped it away.

“The party? This has nothing to do with the party,” you hissed at him, throwing him a sour look over your shoulder, “this has got everything to do with your little fanclub.” Jisung furrowed his brow in thought, recalling the situation.

“Mina, Hyejung and Yoonah?”

“I’m guessing so. I don’t know who they are,” you swallowed.

“That doesn’t make sense. Sure, they may be a bit thick, but I’m sure they didn’t mean it that way,” he defended, though his tone was gentle.

You scoffed, “I find that hard to believe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He glared through squinted and harsh eyes.

“It’s supposed to mean that they helped me realise something,” you worded it vaguely.

“Care to enlighten me?” Sarcasm dripped from his words as if to hide the toxic venom behind them.

“They made me realise how girls act around you. Pretty girls. Girls who are aware they have a sliver of a chance with you. Girls that aren’t like me,” a singular tear slipped down your face. How cliché of you, “They were right. What do I have that they don’t already? I’m not worthy enough to even stand in your shadow.”

Jisung could only look on as tears fell like falling stars down your cheeks. He hated this. He hated seeing you like this, he hated this cold winter night and even a twinge of hate towards Jeno for convincing him to come along. The feeling was mutual between the both of you.

“I hate you, Park Jisung,” you hissed bitterly before walking up the path you had come from not twenty minutes beforehand.

Jisung silently watched you, the girl he had applied eyeliner to and kissed in his bedroom just days before, walk away from him. He felt empty, void of any and all emotion. The alcohol in his system mixed with the headache-inducing music and what just played out in front of him was enough to make him feel nauseous. He trudged back inside, mood noticeably dampened.

“Hey, what was that about?” Chenle questioned, his concern for his best friend grew when he walked past him and grabbed his skateboard.

“I’m going home. If anyone asks, I’m feeling sick,” his words were rushed, distracted.

“Dude, you can’t just say that and expect me not to be worried,” Chenle’s brows furrowed, spinning Jisung round by his shoulders, “what’s going on?”

“I’ve fucked up, man. I’ve fucked up big time.”

vii. you have one (1) new voicemail

“Hey, this is Y/N! I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m out living my life, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I can!”

“Hey Y/N. It’s me, Jisung. A-Again. Look, I know you’re still upset at me, but please. Surely we can talk this out. Please call me when you get this. If you pick up and actually listen-or text me! Anything. Please. Bye.”

Jisung’s throat went dry when he heard your voice again. It was happier than it was the last time he encountered you. You hadn’t spoken to him since the party, whether it was at school, or through texts and missed calls.

You had started cancelling tutoring sessions for reasons he described as ‘bullshit’. Feeling unwell, even though he had seen you looking glowing and healthy that very same day, was your most recent excuse. It was one you had used previously, maybe because people tended to sympathise when they find out someone is sick. He didn’t like being lied to, but he can’t say he blamed you. Hell, he’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t used the excuse to get out of things he didn’t want to do.

However, this wasn’t some church activity his mother had signed him up for and he wasn’t eleven years old anymore. He was a high school student, a failing one at that, and his tutor, the girl he liked, refused to speak to him.

“Hey, this is Y/N! I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m out living my life, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I can!”

“Hey. It’s me again. I wanted to follow up on when our next session will be. I have a test coming up and I’d really love it if you helped me study. Please return my calls or messages. Bye.”

“I know she’s upset, but I just don’t understand,” Jisung confided in his closest friend and partner in crime (sometimes quite literally) Chenle, “I don’t know how to fix it if she doesn’t speak to me.” Chenle nodded, pretending he understood the heartache his friend was going through.

“Have you tried approaching her? Like, at school or something?” Chenle asked, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Jisung shook his head. “What am I supposed to say? ‘I know we’re fighting right now but let’s talk about that’?” Chenle gave him an apologetic smile and gave him the classic “maybe” shoulder shrug, hands positioned out and all.

“Helpful,” he rolled his eyes, falling back into his mattress and gazing at his ceiling.

“What did she say that night?” Chenle questioned, copying Jisung’s actions and laying next to him. His memory worked too quickly than he wanted to admit. The memory was stuck on replay in his mind, and had been for the past two weeks.

“She said something about pretty girls always falling at my feet. Made a comment that she wasn’t part of that category. How she wasn’t ‘worthy of being in my shadow’,” he made the air quotations as he recited his memory. Chenle hummed, the cogs whirring in his brain.

“So she feels unworthy of your attention?” He wanted to make sure he had Jisung’s story straight.

Jisung shrugged, “I guess so. In case you forgot, she hasn’t spoken to me since,” he said sarcastically and exhaled so harshly, his fringe flew upwards and stuck up awkwardly.

“She can’t ignore you forever. Especially if she’s your tutor,” Chenle offered, lifting himself up onto his elbows, now able to make eye contact with his best friend.

The best friend in question only sighed, muttering a ‘yeah’ before pulling his lips in a tight lipped smile, a habit of his.

The hours ticked by. Chenle had long returned home, leaving Jisung to his own thoughts and devices, probably the worst mistake anyone could make right now. His bedroom was completely dark, only the glow of his phone screen and the pale moonlight that shone through his window illuminated the small space.

He was staring at your contact. He hadn’t changed it since the day he logged it into his phone. The same stupid nickname with the same stupid emojis on either side of aforementioned nickname.

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for him. You were one button click away, and yet he felt butterflies lodge in his throat, knowing the rejection that lay on the other end of the line. Jisung was strong, but temptation’s urges were stronger than anything he had ever encountered. He chewed on his fingernail nervously as the line rang. To no one’s surprise, you did not answer.

“Hey, it’s Y/N. I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m out living my life, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I can!”

Before he could speak, he was surprised to learn that you had changed your voicemail.

“If this is Jisung…please stop calling me. Just don’t call me.”

viii. F in Feelings

Sunshine bathed the hallway Jisung trudged down, juxtaposing the horrible feeling that sat at the bottom of his stomach. He hadn’t tried to contact you since the last time he tried. That was nearly a week ago, and right now, he was scheduled for a progress meeting with Miss Barnes. He hadn’t done much with his schoolwork.

You kept cancelling sessions in the library, he had passed his English test by the skin of his teeth, and his grades were, once again, slipping.

As he walked, Hyejung and Yoonah appeared at his side.

“Jisungie!” Hyejung squealed, the nickname and pitch of her voice making Jisung grimace, “We haven’t seen you since Donghyuck’s party!”

“Yeah,” he said dismissively, trying to walk away.

“Oh come on, Jisung,” Yoonah whined, grabbing him by the cuff of his jacket, “we should hang out soon. Now, even.”

“I have to get to class,” he hissed, swiftly shaking off Yoonah’s manicured hand. Both girls looked at each other, both confused and shocked.

“Come skip with us, Jisung. Pretty please?” She batted her eyelashes at him, which only repulsed him further.

“I said no, Yoonah,” he reiterated bitterly, readjusting his backpack.

Hyejung scoffed, “What has gotten into you?”

“Yeah, since when have you been like this?” Yoonah added.

Jisung furrowed his brow, “Like what?”

“You’re telling me you actually want to go to class?” Forced laughter rang throughout the hallway, “You’re so funny, Jisung. Did you know that?”

“Like what?” Jisung repeated through gritted teeth.

“Like a nerd! You’re acting like a nerd. Are you trying to suck up to teachers so they’ll fix your grades?” Hyejung went to slap his shoulder in laughter, but he batted it away harshly. She hissed in pain (Jisung knew she was faking it. She just liked his attention) and looked to him, confused.

“What the fuck? Jisung, I-” Jisung cut her off.

“A nerd? Is that what you called Y/N?” That name. It felt heavy on his tongue, foreign even.

The girls looked confused, “Y/N?”

Jisung nodded curtly. “The reason I have been avoiding you lot is that you hurt her. She heard you talking about her and now she won’t talk to me,” he confessed venomously, anger rising quickly in his chest. His chest ached as he thought of you, the hurt expression you wore that night on the cobblestone path. Anger and hurt are a lethal combination.

“For your own selfish gain, you put someone else down, someone else who I care deeply for. How stupid and self-centred do you have to be to act so recklessly?” His words were like bullets, forceful enough to pierce through skin and loud enough to attract the attention of other students going about their day, “you want to do me a favour? Fuck off.”

The two girls stood before him bug-eyed, and with one final warning from him, they scampered away, their tails between their legs.

Jisung readjusted his backpack one last time before continuing down the hall to Miss Barnes’ classroom whilst occasionally throwing warning glares at students who were staring a little too long.

If he wasn’t upset before, he was now seething. The audacity they had was laughable.

Self-centred, airheaded idiots.

He knocked on the door, catching his teacher’s attention.

“Jisung, you’re here,” she smiled brightly and gestured to one of the two chairs placed neatly in front of her desk, “take a seat.” He nodded and accepted her invitation. “Now, we’re just waiting on Y/N,” she announced, plopping down in her chair and starting to remove his assignments from his folder.

“I’m not sure if she’ll come,” Jisung muttered, swallowing thickly. Miss Barnes looked up, concerned and a little confused.

“Whatever do you mean?” He felt his mouth dry out at her confusion. She doesn’t know.

“Ah well, you see, Y/N and I-”

“I heard my name.” Speak of the devil.

“Y/N, so lovely of you to join us,” Miss Barnes smiled, repeating the gesture she made to him when he had first entered the room. You reciprocated the smile and took your place next to Jisung. He swallowed thickly, deciding it best if he didn’t look at you. Did it make him look like a dickhead? Maybe, but he wasn’t ready to turn into a flustered, sobbing mess in front of his teacher.

“So, how has the tutoring been going?” She wasn’t asking him, she was asking you.

You visibly hesitated. What tutoring? There hadn’t been any for weeks, and it was obvious in Jisung’s grades as of recent. Your facade was faltering, and you needed to keep it up for the next few minutes of your life.

“They have been going well. Jisung struggled for a bit, but he was able to fix his study habits, and he has managed to make up most of his missing assignments, as I’m sure you’ve seen.” The most fluid set of lies you’ve ever told, especially to someone with so much authority over you. Sure, you had lied to your parents, who hadn’t? But to the faculty? Never in your life.

“I certainly have, and he’s made quite the improvement,” Miss Barnes agreed, licking the tip of her forefinger before flicking through the stack of assignments on her desk. Jisung reacted repulsively and made a mental note to wash his hands when she hands his assignments back to him.

“Jisung, your short story is absolutely beautiful. I had no idea you were capable of such things,” the compliment felt backhanded, but Jisung simply brushed it off for the time being.

“The development between the characters, the raw emotions between the both of them, the storyline. Everything was so well thought out,” she paused to skim over one of the paragraphs again, “if I’m being completely honest with you, I cried whilst reading it.”

You looked at him. Short story? He had never mentioned a short story to you. Sure, you had discussed that he needed to do it, the night that you both were majorly distracted by one another.

“Thank you, miss,” he mumbled, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Now, even with all this good work and high grades I can award you with, Jisung,” she said, placing his work on top of the neat stack of papers, “there is one point of concern. Your last test score.”

Chills ran down your spine. You briefly recalled Jisung asking for help with his study for it, and yet his plea fell on deaf ears.

“It’s the first time you’ve received a score like this in quite a number of weeks,” the teacher explained, her face riddled with concern, “I just want to know how this could’ve happened.”

“Oh Jisung, you goose,” you piped up and slid the test paper towards you, “we went over this the week before, don’t you remember?” Lies dripped from your tongue like honey, your voice sickly sweet like it too.

He was absolutely dumbfounded. “What?”

“Come on, Dory. We covered this.” Your lies were multiplying, and doing so rapidly.

“So, he just simply forgot? Could it be to do with your study plan at home, Jisung?”

Jisung shook his head vigorously, “I-It’s not like that-”

“I’m sure these concepts just slipped his mind, miss. I’ll work with him on improving his study routine,” you gave the teacher a pseudo smile and gathered your things, “I have to get to my next class. If you’ll excuse me,” and with that, you were gone.

“Um, I-I have to get to my next class. Thank you for your time, Miss Barnes.” He grabbed his bag, and made a beeline to the door, hot on your heels.

“Wait, Y/N! Wait up,” he chased after you down the hall until you turned around.

Your face was void of any emotion when you swivelled around. No sickly sweet tone, no smile visible on your face. Instead, you looked annoyed that he had to interrupt your day.

“What, Jisung?” The way you said his name made his heart clench and twist to the point of near shattering, and yet, it pissed him off further. Acting like nothing ever happened, like you hadn’t just spouted countless lies to your teacher.

“What the fuck was that?” He pointed back in the direction from whence he had came. You glanced over his shoulder, pretending to look around. A few seconds ticked by and you turned your attention back to him.

“I don’t see what you’re talking about,” you shrugged your shoulders. He clenched his jaw in response.

“I’m not as dumb as I seem,” he spat, venom lacing his tongue, “don’t play it.”

“I thought I made it clear that I don’t want to talk to you,” your arms were folded across your chest, clearly disinterested in the conversation. Jisung’s anger bubbled and rose in his chest. How could you be so nonchalant? How could you act like there was nothing there?

“Now if you’re quite done, I have a class to get to,” and with that, he watched you saunter away, leaving him agape and speechless.

Were things ever gonna get better?

ix. this is what happens when i leave you unsupervised (kiss and make up)

Things were not improving. Not even the faintest glimmer of hope gave Jisung the slightest chance of having you back in the life he was cursed to call his own. He heard the rumours that were chanted in the hallways that the closeness between you and him was for a different reason and the turmoil was due to a disgustingly messy end to whatever students say your official title was.

“Dude, just ignore it. It’ll die down in a couple days. It’s not all that important,” one of his close friends Mark advised. For someone who always boasted about being the eldest and demanding the most respect, he wasn’t very wise, Jisung noted.

Nothing changed. Rumours continued to circulate, tension was high, and once again, his grades were slipping. Jisung was never one to believe in destiny or luck, but in this case, he truly believed that both decided to simultaneously fuck him over and run his senior year of high school into the ground.

His grades fell from a lack. A lack of studying, a lack of attention in class, a lack of tutoring sessions with you. Initially, he thought tutoring sparked the want to learn and improve for him, so he asked Miss Barnes if he could be tutored by someone else after making some excuse about you having picked up after school shifts at a new cafe.

It took him no less than three minutes of sitting at the same table as Shin Ryujin to realise that it wasn’t tutoring itself that sparked his want to study. It was you. The very same person who would evade him in the hallways like he was the carrier of some kind of deadly virus, would pretend there was music blaring in her ears to excuse why she wouldn’t answer when he called her name and didn’t seem affected by the rumours that were spiralling out of control.

He had started to frequent the skatepark more often like the place was a drug and he was an addict. His preferred time of day was in the ungodly hours of the night when the air was the chilliest and the population of the park was one, Park Jisung.

Setting his decorated board down on the ground, he took a deep breath. The week had been terrible, a repeat of the last three weeks and each spookily identical to the point where Jisung had pondered whether or not he was stuck in a time loop.

His heel balanced on the back of the board, the front stuck out over the bowl like a pirate’s plank, that is if a pirate’s plank was covered in stupid stickers and meaningless graffiti.

The euphoric rush of adrenaline was what he craved, the feeling that he was untouchable and free. It was his drug and over these last couple of weeks, he relapsed into his addictive ways in his desperate attempts of escapism. He rolled back and forth in the bowl like it was second nature, occasionally adding a trick into his routine. He felt free, happy, and relieved. Hell, he even felt invincible. However, that analogy was short-lived.

Amidst his impressive moves and tricks, he was gaining speed with no hope of slowing down anytime soon. His vision was blurred by the velocity of his skateboard, the wind whipping past his face and numbing his cheeks from the sensation. He went for another lap around the bowl when his footing on his board slipped, throwing Jisung from his skateboard with a crash.

Wearing pain ripped from his wrist down his arm, crying and hissing in pain. He clutched his wrist tightly and rolled onto his back, continuing to wail into the silent abyss of the night. He was sure that his wrist was broken, or at the very least sprained, but he didn’t have the stomach to look at it.

His phone was within arm's reach from him. Must’ve flown out my pocket when I fell, he thought. Bracing himself for the worst, he momentarily released his wrist to grab my phone. With one hand, he scrolled through his contacts until his eyes caught on one. His thumb hovered idly over the top of it, twitching in hesitation. It was your contact. He hadn’t altered anything about it, not even bothering to edit the emojis he had placed there out of it. He sighed gently, he knew his options were narrowed down to two; you would pick up or you wouldn’t, but the situation was much different than it had been over nearly a month, he thought it would be different. He was injured and he was in desperate need of your attention, medically and physically.

Ring ring! Ring ring! The shrill sound of your ringtone echoed throughout the room and more importantly, rudely interrupted your studying playlist. You glanced at the contact, a pit forming at the bottom of your stomach. You had given up your tally on how many times he had called after 17. It was getting slightly ridiculous, to the point that the sight of his contact sent your blood boiling. How many times did you have to tell him that you didn’t want to talk to him? How thick was he?

Enough was enough. The record had to be set straight between him and you, besides your ringtone was irritating. You made a small mental note on the urgency of changing your ringtone. You tapped the green button, stirring up a thousand nasty sentences on your tongue before he even had time to speak.

“Stop fucking calling me! How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I want nothing to do with you. Seriously, how delusional are you-”

“Y/N,” Jisung interrupted, his voice raspy and quiet. The sound of your name on his tongue sent alarm bells off in your head, something was wrong.

You softened, visibly and verbally, “Jisung, is everything okay?”

A halfhearted chuckle tickled your ear, “Not particularly.”

Your heart rate spiked as you thought about every horrible scenario your brain could conjure up in seconds.

“What’s wrong? Where are you? Are you hurt?”

His silence was telling as if it told a thousand words he couldn’t.

“Are you at the skatepark?”

“Yes,” he muttered, hissing at the pain that was planted in his wrist.

“I’ll be there in five minutes with a first aid kit. Stay put,” you instructed, clicking off the call without a goodbye, and began rushing around to find your coat and the first aid kit your family stored somewhere in the house. You located it quickly (it was under the bathroom sink behind the year’s supply of hair products) and raced to the door. Your parents’ confused demands to know where you were going so late at night fell upon deaf ears. Your priorities were on Jisung and making sure he was safe.

His voice rang in your ears. You recalled the way it broke in certain places like he was trying to mask his pain, his tears. You cursed yourself aloud for letting your damn pride get in between your job and Jisung. There wasn’t a day that slipped by that you didn’t think about the damned boy. Sometimes, you would groan and mumble obscenities when you did, but in others, an ache settled heavy in your heart.

The skatepark grew closer in your peripheral vision. Your legs pumped faster as you raced up the hill and looked into the bowl. There sat the black haired boy, his bangs still covering his eyes just like the first day you had met him. The only difference between that first meeting in the school library and now was he was nursing his wrist against his chest.

“Jisung,” you called to him. He snapped his head in your direction, his eyes softened the moment he saw you.

“You actually came,” he replied, a little astonished. You shuffled down the sides of the bowl in an attempt to not slip and land face first onto the concrete similarly to Jisung.

“Of course I came. You’re hurt. I couldn’t just leave you out here in the cold,” You exaggerated your sigh as you knelt in front of him, plopping the first aid bag beside you and rifling through it to find the equipment you needed to patch up your skater boy.

Your. That word, when associated with Jisung, felt foreign in your mind. Proclaiming the injured boy as yours, pretending that for the last two weeks that you hadn’t been ignoring him, ignoring his calls, his texts, his entire existence.

Yet you picked up his call tonight. You remember the gut-wrenching feeling that set in your stomach like cement when his caller ID flashed across your screen. Something compelled you to pick up the phone, and that ‘something’ was the boy who preferred his skateboard to his textbooks.

You gently touched his wrist, earning a hiss of pain in return. You glanced up at Jisung, whose eyes were glazed over with a thin sheen of tears and he jerked his hand away from you.

“I can’t stop it from hurting if you don’t let me touch it,” you scolded lightly. Jisung it down on his bottom lip in thought for a split second before letting go of his wrist and letting you take a look at his swollen wrist.

Your eyes blew wide. “Well, that’s a sprain if I’ve ever seen one,” you commented, which was met with a blank glare from him.

“Wow, really? I never noticed, Captain Obvious. Thank you for that astute observation,” his voice dripped with sarcasm, making your face fall into a similar expression as his.

“I could leave you here and let your wrist heal incorrectly,” you threatened, turning to pack up the first aid kit. Jisung visibly panicked and shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” you couldn’t suppress the small smile that graced your lips as you picked a bandage and ice pack out of the bag and pressed it against his wrist. Jisung winced at the cold surface of the ice pack that made you laugh.

“How did you even get yourself into this mess?” You asked as you compressed the pack to his wrist, sounding a little astounded. Jisung snickered and shrugged his shoulders.

“I fell off my skateboard. There’s not much more to it than that,” he laughed, his shoulders shaking as he did. His laugh was like music to your ears, soothing and pretty to listen to. It was a perfectly full sound, like it would play whenever you opened the lid of a child’s music box.

“You never fall off your skateboard,” you crinkled your brows and looked him up and down as you removed the ice pack and picked up the bandage and began to wrap his wrist.

Jisung knew you were right. The last time he had fallen off his skateboard was freshman year, and even then, the biggest injury he sustained was a moderately sized scrape on his knee.

“Distracted, I guess,” he tried to play it off but you were stubborn and adamant.

“Bullshit,” you replied.

“Maybe,” he gave you a small smile.

“So, tell me.”

He swallowed thickly and diverted his eyes from yours, trying to pull his hand away from your touch, however your grip was firmer than he anticipated.

“Why are you acting like this?” Annoyance bubbled inside your chest.

“L-Like what?” He stumbled over his words, shifting his body weight onto his good hand, the uninjured one.

“Like you’re hiding something from me,” Jisung scoffed at your words.

“Why would I be so quick to tell you anything? You haven’t spoken to me in weeks,” he hissed as he attempted to push your hand away, yet was met with yet another fail. His words made you freeze mid-wrap.

“I was selfish, I know-”

“No shit,” he spat. Your heart sank in your chest at the sharpness of his words and the way they plunged deep into you.

“I’m sorry. Really I am,” you apologised gently, your thumb running over the back of his bandaged hand. It was a small gesture but one that meant a great deal to Jisung. It brought back colourful childhood memories of his mother and the caring and gentle ways she would handle situations with him and his older brother.

“You,” Jisung blurted out. You gave him a strange look.

“What? What about me?” You asked, making him shake his head.

“The reason I fell off my skateboard was that I was thinking about you.” His sudden confession took you off-guard, like someone had knocked the wind out of your chest.

“O-Of me?” You swallowed thickly. Had ignoring all of his attempts at conversations, all the chances of reconciliation made you a constant thought? A thought living rent free in his mind, and one that was eating him from the inside out.

“Do you need your hearing checked again? That’s what I said,” there was a teasing tone behind his words, and it lightened your heart.

“Even after everything?” He nodded, seeming a little distant to be thinking about the topic.

“As much as I didn’t want to, you seemed to be the only thing on my mind for weeks. I tried to convince myself that I shouldn’t miss you, but somehow that made me miss you more.”

You sat there, the silence between you growing larger. Somehow, you became hyper aware of how his hand twitched and moved under your touch. Your words sat uncomfortably on your tongue and you swear you could see the twinkle of the stars taking its pretty place in his eyes.

Jisung’s gaze drifted upward and the smallest yet prettiest smile formed across his lips. “You kept my beanie,” he noted aloud. His public observation made you fluster quickly, unintentionally telling yourself to touch the soft woollen hat. You fumbled over your words in a poor attempt to explain yourself, cut off only by his gentle laughter.

“Dork,” he teased, pulling it off your head. You squawked in surprise and swiped at the hat with your free hand to try and grab it. Damn Park Jisung and his long limbs.

“I’m surprised you kept it. I thought you would’ve thrown it out or burned it by now,” he said half jokingly as he admired the hat, swiping the pad of his thumb over the brand patch on the front of the beanie.

“I couldn’t bring myself to do either,” you admitted, shrugging your shoulders and disguising the fact that your heart was beating so erratically you could hear it in your ears. The thought of destroying something that a, didn’t belong to you, and b, belonged to the one and only Park Jisung, was against your moral code.

“Also, stay still, you need to elevate your wrist,” you instructed and lifted his forearm upwards.

Jisung threw the beanie back at you, “It’s cute,” he commented. The conversation fizzled back into silence and fleeting glances. Time froze as he tried to ignore the way your fingers would delicately glide over his like he was made of glass. His mind focused on how your fingers gently curled around the space between his thumb and his index finger.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You asked as you fixed his bandage and tightened it. Jisung nodded wordlessly, ready for whatever question you had.

“Do you think we could…try again?” He picked up on the slight yet unmistakable crack in your voice.

You missed him, and greatly at that. It didn’t matter how many times you ignored his texts or calls or his presence when he walked past you in the corridor, you felt this twinge of pain in your heart. You still had to see his contact pop up in your notifications every time you looked at your phone. Hell, even your voicemails were full because you didn’t have the heart to delete his voicemails. Sure, you were an asshole to Jisung after the party, and you regretted every moment of it, but you missed him. Even right now, when sitting in his presence, you missed him.

“We could,” he said stoutly. His tone didn’t immediately indicate if he was joking around or not, but your gut told you that it held a slight bit of resentment. You swallowed thickly and sighed loudly.

“Would you let us?”

“I might,” he said in the same tone as before. You looked down before shifting on your knees.

“Jisung,” you groaned at his lack of response, and he visibly caved.

“Okay,” he breathed, “we can try again. But no storming out on me at parties,” he teased gently as he watched you tighten his bandage.

“Don’t take me to parties and that won’t be a problem,” you gave him a loose smile, scooting closer towards him. The dark haired boy gave a hearty chuckle, until he jerked his hand in the wrong direction, to which it was sharply cut off by a hiss of pain.

“Alright, maybe we should take you to the ER,” you suggested, “I may have done my best but I’m no doctor.”

Jisung nodded wordlessly, looking over to his skateboard. Dissimilarly to him, it had sustained no injuries.

“Don’t even think about, Park Jisung,” you warned him as you helped him up, trying your best not to worsen his injury, and better yet, get him away from that stupid ass skateboard.

“Well, I can’t just leave it here! I paid good money for that skateboard!”

“You spent $150 for a plank with wheels?”

“And I’m not letting some runny-nosed, sticky-fingered iPad kid get their grubby hands all over it.” He huffed, leaning down to collect his skateboard, “also, it wasn’t $150.”

“Oh really?”

His cheeks tinted pink, “it was 175,” he mumbled. You reprimanded him for wasting such a large sum of money on a piece of driftwood and Jisung only scoffed and rolled his eyes, reminding you that it was a very good piece of ‘driftwood’. Despite your distaste for the activity, you picked up his skateboard and tucked it under your armpit.

“Now no little sticky fingered kid can get their hands on your ridiculously overpriced skateboard. Happy?” Jisung gave you a closed lipped smile, his cheeks causing his eyes to disappear a little.

There was a pause.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turned to him.

“Yes, Jisung?”

He displayed a small but grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

You reciprocated the smile, and a soft hue coloured your cheeks.

“Don’t mention it.”

The two of you walked together down the path. The air was still freezing and the silence between was just as bitterly cold. Your feelings on Jisung were mixed and stirred, like a drink whose flavour was bittersweet. Yes, you disliked him for the shitstorm of a party incident, but that didn’t stop you from thinking. Thinking about the hours you spent on him, hours of your life you would never get back. Did you really regret those hours? The answer was no. Time flew past before you could conceptualise it, which paled in comparison to how slow these last couple weeks moved for you. Not to mention that Jisung had loosened you up. You felt less tense in strange social settings and admittedly less uptight than you were before. He showed you that your teenage years were still meant to be fun, that you didn’t need to figure out what to do with yourself immediately. Jisung was your guide through a different side of the world you thought you knew.

You looked over at Jisung as you walked. He was nursing his injured wrist against his chest, his other hand helping support it. His bangs were pushed to the side and revealed his eyes and their deep shade of hazelnut brown. Slivers of light shimmered like stars in his irises whenever he passed underneath a streetlamp and swore he had this heavenly glow behind his figure, and you felt a little awestruck just looking at him.

The bright lights of the hospital buzzed quietly as you made your way to the front desk. A middle-aged woman with dark circles under her eyes and an expression that explained that she needed a cigarette and a nap sat behind it, mindlessly tapping on her keyboards and only drew her attention away from her monitor when the two of you approached.

“Can I help you two lovebirds?” Her comment alone turned the tips of Jisung’s ears pink and he looked away from the receptionist.

“Uh yes. My friend here hurt his wrist while skateboarding and I have reason to believe that it’s sprained,” you calmly explained as you pointed to Jisung’s wrist.

The woman leaned over the desk to get a better look at his bandaged wrist. She briefly raised her eyebrow before plonking herself back into her office chair and sluggishly pulled her keyboard towards her.

“Friend, huh? Is that what you young people call your partners now?” She joked. At least, you hope she was joking, “And does your ‘friend’ have a name?”

“Yes. Uh, Park Jisung,” Jisung spoke before you could. He may not know much but he can at least remember his own name for his medical records. His answer was responded with the obnoxious clacking of her keyboard before she asked for her date of birth, residence and emergency contact.

“Alright, just take a seat over there. We’re not busy tonight, if you couldn’t tell,” she gestured to the empty waiting area, “so the doctor will be with you shortly.”

You and Jisung thanked her before taking seats opposite each other and began to wait. The receptionist was right, they weren’t very busy. Obviously, they didn’t usually get patients who have sprained their wrist because they were trying to skate their feelings away. In fact, this whole situation was laughable. You swore you despised him twelve hours ago, but all it took was one phone call and you were running back to him. Did you even despise him at all?

Ten minutes had passed before the doctor emerged from the main hallway to the waiting area, asking for ‘a Park Jisung’. The boy in question pricked up his ears and twisted his neck in the direction his name was called. The doctor smiled widely.

“Park Jisung?” He said again in a cool voice.

“U-Uh yes, that’s me,” he stammered and scrambled to his feet. He turned to you, looking at you as though he was asking for your permission.

“Go. It’s your wrist that’s fucked, not mine,” a teasing smile displayed on your lips, “Unless you need mommy to hold your hand.”

Jisung scoffed in mock disgust and announced that he’d be back soon. With a final nod of your head, he followed the doctor into another room.

The room was in pristine condition. Every surface seemed to sparkle under the fluorescent lights and he was convinced if he looked at the counter, his own reflection would stare right back. The room was decorated with space related decals that were meant to appeal to young kids; planets and stars strategically placed on the door and wall next to the desk, and an astronaut with a visor that obscured his face and holding a flag that said ‘Dr Lim’. On the other side of the desk was a chair reserved for patients, and that is where Jisung sat himself down.

“So,” Dr Lim started, making Jisung turn his attention to him, “you’ve done something to your wrist?”

Jisung nodded to confirm his theory, lifting up his hurt wrist ever so slightly as to not cause himself more pain. Dr Lim gestured for him to bring his hand closer to him, and once it was in his reach, the doctor began unwrapping his hand.

“Did you wrap your hand yourself or was it the girl you came in with?” The doctor asked, noticing how well done it was.

Jisung shook his head, “Oh no, it was her. I think she did a good job.” Jisung felt flushed just thinking about those brief moments.

Dr Lim nodded, “She did a fantastic job. You’re quite lucky to have a friend like her.”

Jisung was sure that the good doctor hadn’t realised how much those words meant to him, but they made a small giddy smile settle onto his lips and painted the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks a dreamy shade of pink.

“Yes, sir. I am extremely lucky to have her.”

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