#THIS WAS SO LONG AND DEPRESSING OMFG

[heartsoji]

hello, everyone. its been a while.

im really sorry that i kinda dropped off the map with no notice and YES i've seen the sweet msgs dropped by anons and moots and its really sweet to know that people ive never even met think abt me and care for me. will be responding to moots privately shortly - anons, just THANK YOU SO MUCH it means the world to me that you care sm. if you ever drop off of anon, i'd love to be friends :)

ANYWAYS, the reason(s) i sorta disappeared: just some family issues! my family is going through some problems with some certain family members going through a really hard time, falling into frail health, you get the gist. it hasn't been exactly lovely, but we're working things out rn and hopefully it'll get better soon. i kinda got caught up in everything and sorta forgot about my little community ive grown here. my apologies for that.

um sorry for this lowkey rly dramatic and overly lengthy msg but i didnt rly know what to say now that ive dropped off the globe with no signal of being alive, and i feel safe enough in this community (yes, the wonderful tumblr anime SIMPS u heard me right ugs (and me tbh) R SIMPS. community.) that i dont feel the need to just hide away my problems and just say smth like, "oh i got locked outta my tumblr account!" or smth idek. i trust ugs! love these ppl ive never even met <3 (more than some of my irls, even. some of them dont know that anything happened LOLL)

MOVING ON, i'll try to be active, but no promises! i cant say fs that any real work will be put out for a little while, but the biggest lump of the issues is over, and im in a better mental space now, so i can probs do some things? idk. at the very least, ill be doing some interactions and rambles and more abusing of my "jisu talks!" tag. i love all of you, have a wonderful morning/day/night! <3

#uh this was so dramatic and emo-sounding #yk what #at least im getting better abt vulnerability #TELLING SOMEONE THAT MY PROBLEMS EXIST??? crazy #but on a diff notes ugs have no idea how much ur msgs in my inbox meant to me #like ugs didnt even know i was going through shit but like just being in a weird mental space and then opening this website to see all thes #ppl who care literally made me cry i love ugs #anons pls get off of anon and talk to me some of u were so sweet #THIS WAS SO LONG AND DEPRESSING OMFG #jisu talks!

[todayisafridaynight]

what makes minedai even sadder is that we never rlly see daigo try to build a bond with anyone else like he did with mine it rlly shows how badly it effected him like yeah he reached out to shinada in y5 but that’s rlly it and he probably would wanna leave him alone after that and not involve him in any yakuza stuff so i don’t think they would’ve hung out or anything like that afterwards. All he rlly had were saejima and majima but they were more like babysitters than anything, wish we saw more of their dynamic tho like we did with majima and daigo in dead souls since that was fun and we were lowkey robbed but in canon he’s just as lonely as he was before majimas promise to kiryu. And mine is the only person he really had a meaningful relationship with romantic or not they were still really close and we don’t see that again with daigo ever (from what i recall after y3) ok sorry for rambling LMFAO

even with shinada, he reached out to him more so out of 'duty' and trying to make up for the misfortune that befell him because of yakuza than wanting to rekindle any kind of friendship they might have had in high school (though it sounds more like they were just acquaintances if shinada needing a second to remember who daigo was is anything), so yah i doubt they really had any kind of bond afterwards

dead souls really was the only time after Y3 where we got to see daigo be more sociable with someone, but its as you say majima and saejima are more like retainers than close friends

#snap chats #you can tell i was into fire emblem when the first term that comes to my mind to call majima and saejima was 'retainers' omfg #but yeah ..... depressing .... #does make me wonder who daigo was on the phone with during the rggo story though. like clearly daigo has friends #apparently. we just never see or hear of them. tho ig it is implied those were his friends from the y2 era. as mine said flarkjla #REGARDLESS yeah after y3 daigo just feels depressing to watch #i think its just because he really has to do everything on his own now #but not even have a friend to just chill with at the end of the day- like the technical work is whatever. for the most part #THATS stressful obvi so to not have anyone to really be personable with thats probably the dire part. imo. #cause yk the world could suck but as long as you have that One Person to just relax with then its ok but with mine gone. 🧍‍♂️ #probably doesnt help that like. during the 'flashback' segment of y3 where we get to see daigo sitting with kiryu and nakahara #we see him all cheery and bein a lil jokester and just. A Happy Dude #granted this is barely a year or two into being chairman so The Horrors Havent Set In relatively but still ... i miss his smile .. #every time i think of daigo post-mine i think of those like. tragedies or accounts of people where its like #'after X's friend/lover died they never found another again' like thats the vibe i always get #he really packed it up and never got close with anyone else again and it makes me want to throw up #y4 widow arc still good tho it makes me chortle

[humbugg]

one of lifes biggest small pleasures is coming home to a comfortably made bed. Shame its such a pain to do

#to my younger self im so sorry i deprevied you of this for so long #its a bit embarrasing how happy it makes me to see my bed made #like i get it #i used to make fun of my parents bc they make their bed everyday #but if i came home after working and being a mom and saw my sheets still tangled id cry #and it just makes me feel so put together #also i paid like $50 for my bedding ill be DAMNNED if im not gonna display it #i just feel like ive struggled for so long to take care of myself properly and now im finally like #oh so its actually worth it? #like its the smallest fucking things #the smell of rain my chai tasting just right raspberries etc #they all make life worth it #and i feel like its so hard these days to find any joy #but once you see it its impossible to ignore imo #even though i work a shitty service job sometimes i serve someone a drink and they light up or they tell me its made perfectly and im just #like omfg?? #its so stupid but god your actions really do have consequences #idk im just glad ive figured this out now instead of later #bc my teen years have been fucking WASTED due to my mental health #and i could choose to stay the way i am just bc its normal now to be depressed and suicidal #thats not to say im completly healed though. still have my rough weeks but im also feel weird about healing and trying to be happy #bc if u post about sumth good thats happened somebodys always gonna be like well my dad killed the president #and its like??? that sucks bro but its exhausting and weird to shove ur miserableness onto everyone else #now i feel like i just dont get online that much bc it feels so performative. accepting that im behind on the memes is hard though #ironic bc im posting on tumblr but its different. nobody will see this #only thing im gonna do going forward is just be me fr

[srjlvr]

hit me up! on Roblox > ( 이희승 )

҂ PAIRING ➤ idol!heeseung X idol-fem!Reader

҂ SYNOPSIS ➤ your past on roblox was…..something special. especially when your only friend who played roblox with you is now a famous idol. after years of disappearing and not logging in your old account you decided to do it and search for your long lost friend, lee heeseung. oh! and what a surprise! he decided to do the same thing after craving for some connection with his long lost friend, who’s now a famous idol.

҂ FEATURING ➤ rest of enha members , ot5 lesserafim , shin ryujin as yn.

҂ GENRE ➤ fluff , crack , childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers (omfg).

҂ WARNINGS ➤ curse words (i cant hold it) , kms/kys jokes , roblox (idk if its a trigger but imma put it here) , obv annoying fans + i’ll include warnings in each ep if necessary !

҂ STATUS ➤ discontinued !

҂ TAG-LIST ➤ closed !

҂ NOTE ➤ please note that i do not remember a lot from roblox so sorry if i offend anyone in any kind of way!! HOPEFULLY i’ll be able to finish this smau too😭

!! DISCLAIMER !! everything here is FICTIONAL , if you don’t like it, don’t read it !! also, photos and so are NOT mine and i give full credits to the owners !!

PROFILES — ✧ ; mi less-fear👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻 ; epipen💯✅

— ✧ 01 ; ‘oh its lee heeseung’

— ✧ 02 ; ‘ilovejeonjungkook’

— ✧ 03 ; ‘im gonna cry myself to sleep’

— ✧ 04 ; ‘is that y/n…?’

— ✧ 05 ; ‘HAD A REUNION!!’

— ✧ 06 ; ‘living in denial might cause depression yk🤕🤕🤕’

tnx for supporting!!

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen smau #enhypen heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #heeseung smau #enhypen heeseung smau #heeseung scenarios #enhypen heeseung x reader #enha smau #enha imagines #enha heeseung #enha x reader

[purerae]

hi!!! I just read about kieran and omfg I love his character and I have so many ideas about this man😭

-what if reader actually straight up tells him they don’t like him romantically?(i love aggressive reader especially with playboys)

-reader having enough of kieran

-kieran finding out that reader is in a relationship

hii oh my gosh thank you so much!! let me know if you want a proper oneshot and i’ll write it for you but these are just some bulletpoints on how i’d think he’d react <3

SCENARIO #1

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ this man will not take no for an answer he will keep trying and trying.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ He’d take it as a joke but would begin screaming crying throwing up once he gets home.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ “Haha, don’t be so harsh~! I know you love playing hard to get cutie!”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ If you are persistent in your feelings, he’d end up kidnapping you LOL

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ he likes your aggressive behaviour so some part of him likes the chase and you rejecting him consistently.

SCENARIO #2

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ He honestly does not care if you’ve had enough of him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Although he wants to see you laugh and smile at his jokes he also loves seeing you getting annoyed by his antics

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ in the long run it would hurt him to see you genuinely tired of him and he’d start growing slightly insecure

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ no one would realise though because he wouldn’t change his behaviour

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ again in the long run if he can see you’ve had enough of him he’d probably kidnap you so you can’t move schools or switch classes.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ “It’s okay, you’re already tired of me, so what’s the point in holding any barriers now? Now I don’t have to pretend like you don’t belong to me <3”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Or he would use some sort of blackmail against you but would portray it as he’s trying to look out for you.

SCENARIO #3

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ he is so SO livid

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ he’s been trying for AGES and you’re in a relationship??

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Kieran would genuinely would try to ruin your partners life.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ He’d begin to spread nasty rumours about them and make sure they have a bad reputation

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ “Oh (P/N)..?? I heard they cheated on their ex..?? I dunno though someone told me that”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ He would make sure that no one would link it back to him spreading the rumours. Wouldn’t want you to find out he’s the reason why your partners life is hell now??

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ If you’re still with them, he’d threaten the partner and make sure you won’t find out.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ All in all, if you’re still with them, he’d most definitely end up murdering them.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ It wouldn’t trace back to him because he’s actually incredibly smart and has a social status. He would easily get away with it

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ He would notice you all depressed in chemistry class and realise it’s his chance to get closer to you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥“Oh princess…I heard about the news.. I’m so sorry~”

purerae<3

#kieran leave Y/N alone challenge!! #this man is insane #purerae #yandere playboy #yandere blog #male yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere oc #yandere playboy x reader #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere x you

[eoieopda]

foresight (myg)

It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader | Darksided AU Type: One-Shot / Prequel to darksided (no. 2) & blindsided (no. 3,) but can be read as a stand-alone fic. Word Count: 11.3K 😳 Content: SPICY FLUFF (18+ or else - oral (m receiving) and penetrative, protected sex (p in v)); strangers to lovers au; POV switches; discussion of anxiety and negative self-talk; alcohol consumption (primary setting is a bar); tteokbokki; and just the cutest fucking duo. ft. Seokjin and a surprise cameo by reader's cat. A/N: The origin story for my beloved babies, which takes place in 2016 (and uses Korean age, fyi.) I found this photo after I finished writing and nearly fell tf over because this was the Yoongi in my brain; jacket and all, omfg. My actual note (and tags) will be at the end! 💕 Listen to the playlist here. Read Interlude: Sunrise drabble here.

Min Yoongi wanted it on record that he tried.

When Seokjin pushed, and pushed, and pushed Yoongi to ask out that girl, he did. She was someone Seokjin knew from somewhere, and she seemed nice enough. All Yoongi really knew about her was that she was pretty, though he hoped to learn that this was the least interesting thing about her.

If nothing else, Yoongi proceeded out of spite. He wanted nothing more than to shove it in Seokjin’s face that he was capable of being a normal, twenty-four-year-old man. He wanted to prove to Seokjin — and to himself, if he were being honest — that he wasn’t a borderline-reclusive workaholic.

Or, at the very least, he wasn’t exclusively a borderline-reclusive workaholic. He did want to get out and meet new people; just in negligible and infrequent doses.

It had been so long since Yoongi last went on a date that three (3) generations of iPhones had come and gone. Children who hadn’t yet been born were now entering pre-kindergarten, making macaroni art with the motor skills they’d obtained during his romantic sabbatical. It was embarrassing; it was depressing; and it all piled up at his doorstep, barricading him inside his apartment.

There was a vicious cycle at play, making matters worse. It casted Yoongi as the lone sock, swirling and drowning inside his washing machine brain. The plot was as stupid as it was repetitive:

Relentless schedule aside, Yoongi didn’t date because it made him anxious. Then, he’d become more anxious because he wasn’t dating. Ultimately, he’d end up too anxious about his anxiety to address the thing that caused it in the first place. And around and around and around he went.

Why the fuck did people subject themselves to this on purpose?

Asking her out was the simplest part. With a quick text and an emoji — the latter of which Yoongi deliberated over for far too long — he’d knocked the ball into her court. She’d responded within minutes, which he assumed was a good sign. Saturday night, they’d decided, at eight o’clock.

Unfortunately, no part of what came next was easy.

Yoongi had spent the four subsequent days in a tailspin. Spiraling over where to take her, what to wear, and what the fuck to talk to her about. In the few interactions they’d had before, all she seemed to do was pepper him with questions about his career. Like everyone else, she was fascinated by Yoongi: the Concept.

Whether or not she cared about Yoongi: the Person was yet to be determined.

Worse, after three years in the public eye, Yoongi worried that he’d lost track of what once made him relatable. That boy from Daegu — with a chip on his shoulder and a fire in his belly — was traded in for a luxury model. He no longer had to debate between purchasing a meal or a bus ticket home from work because he was now loaded and living in Hannam-fucking-dong.

Ugh.

People looked at him with stars in their eyes, but he could never tell if anyone truly saw him. And even if someone did, what was left to see, anyway? Yoongi doubted that he could pick himself out of a lineup now.

Eventually, after three nights of tossing and turning, Yoongi had landed on something that felt meaningful. He would take this girl to a hole-in-the-wall that he loved dearly, which sat relatively unnoticed in a lesser-traveled pocket of Seoul. It was quiet and unassuming, but had a life of its own.

As far as Yoongi could see, it was the perfect place to find the parts of himself that’d dropped on his rapid, record-breaking ascent. Decidedly unremarkable but worth it, nonetheless. There, she could get to know the person behind the persona. Maybe she’d even come to like who he actually was.

Before heading out, Yoongi had pitched his plan to Seokjin and received a thumbs up in response. Unfortunately, her reaction came from two knuckles down. Her departure followed less than sixty seconds after her arrival. She’d fled so quickly, in fact, that she managed to flag down the very same cab before it could clear the block.

Through her window, she’d shouted out her scathing review: Yoongi was cheap; she would never drink bottom-shelf liquor with him in a glorified dumpster; and she both expected and deserved better because he could access better. Yoongi had stood stunned on the sidewalk as she disappeared — likely forever — in a cloud of exhaust.

Somehow, it felt like that cab had run him over as it peeled out.

To be clear, none of this was painful because Yoongi was disappointed; he wasn’t, not in the slightest. Good fucking riddance. It was worse than that. He felt validated, and he knew exactly how fucking sad that was.

See? Told you so, he’d thought bitterly to himself. Then, immediately, Yoongi criticized himself for being too critical. Hypocrite.

So, there he stood.

If Yoongi followed his instinct and went home, he could rebuild his barricade and watch several episodes of Chopped before passing out alone in his bed. A productive night, despite its fruitless start. But then, he realized, he’d have to answer when Seokjin inevitably called to ask what the fuck went wrong.

Fuck it.

Yoongi shrugged to no one but himself. He then slipped from the sidewalk, through the dumpster’s front door, and straight to the bar. Slumping down onto a leather-topped stool, he rested his elbows against the mahogany countertop and dropped his dejected chin in his hand.

Is this rock bottom? He wondered, Drinking in a bar alone on a Saturday night?

Within seconds, there was a loud crash several meters away. Yoongi jerked his head towards the source of the sound, but he saw nothing. His brows furrowed. All was quiet until a whine erupted from the doorway to the back room.

“Shit, shit, shit!"

Upon standing, Yoongi pressed his hands against the bar and leaned forward to investigate; equal parts concerned and nosy.

On the ground in the doorway, he found shattered remnants of what was once a bottle of Tanqueray. Crouching above the pine-scented wreckage, plucking chunks of glass off the hardwood, he found you.

Yoongi immediately grimaced at your chosen method of disaster clean-up. There was already a bandage wrapped around your finger — with a Hello Kitty pattern, he noted — that confirmed your ongoing battle with clumsiness.

You didn’t need to add to that collection and he couldn’t watch in good conscience while you made that outcome more and more likely.

Mind made up, he crossed quickly to the side of the bar he had no authorization to be on. As soon as Yoongi reached you, he saw the nearby bucket labeled “broken shit.” Then, he clocked the small hand-brush and dustpan resting against it. Wasting no time, he grabbed all three; and without a word, you allowed him to carefully usher you out of the way.

Crouching down the way you had, he began to sweep the broken shit into the dustpan. Too preoccupied to glance up, he asked without looking, “Are you okay?”

When you didn’t immediately respond, Yoongi’s eyes quickly rose to find you with strawberry-pink cheeks and wide, vaguely horrified eyes, and —Shit, was he staring?

Say something. Say anything. For fuck’s sake, Yoongi, at least smile so she knows you’re not angry.

What he landed on looked more like a grimace, he was sure of it, and it didn’t seem to fix that look on your face.

“I’m so sorry,” you squeaked once he finished dumping the glass into its designated receptacle.

You didn’t give him a chance to tell you that an apology wasn’t necessary, opting instead to rattle off your perceived sins at an alarming rate:

“I think I’m the only bartender in Seoul that’s this bad at tending bar. I mean, I didn’t even know anyone else was here — because I wasn’t paying attention — and now you, the patron I’m supposed to be serving, are cleaning up after me. It’s definitely supposed to be the other way around —“

A smile was twitching at the corner of his mouth that he couldn’t prevent. Without a door into the so far one-sided conversation, Yoongi had to jump through the window you created when you finally drew a breath. “Have you got a mop?”

Based on the way your eyebrows knit together, you’d been thrown entirely for a loop. You re-opened your mouth, likely to apologize for not following the sudden twist. Yoongi refused to allow further self-flagellation, though.

Classic Yoongi: demonstrating more compassion for strangers than he ever shows himself.

“For the gin,” He chuckled softly as he gestured down to the puddle at his feet. Suddenly and baselessly bold, he shot you a playful look and tacked on, “And for all the words you just spilled.”

The aforementioned eyebrows shot up as your jaw dropped further. Thankfully, it was amusement and not offense glittering in your eyes. Pretty. As you crossed your arms over your chest, you tilted your head and sized him up with a quick glance.

If this was a test, he was determined to pass.

“Maybe,” you hummed.

Yoongi wanted to volley your nonchalant tone, but he couldn’t swallow the laughter bubbling up from his chest. He was grinning like an idiot; there was no denying it. “Maybe?”

Your eyebrow twitched ever so slightly, the perfect overture to the mischief on your lips. When you replied, that microscopic smirk never faltered: “Let’s say, for arguments’ sake, that there is a mop.”

A manicured finger was held up to stop Yoongi from interjecting.

Mystified, his poor brain tried to crunch the numbers. Statically, it made no sense that — out of the thousands of people he’d met in his life — he’d never come across someone quite like you. In a matter of minutes, you’d pirouetted from adorable, to self-depreciating, to coy and confident.

All-encompassing, all electric, you moved through tone shifts far more gracefully than you did through the bar.

And if he’d done the math right, this was the first interaction he’d had in recent memory that didn’t deplete his energy. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Gazing at you, Yoongi began to wonder if this was how extroverts got to feel as they moved through the world. Like it gave back more than it took. Lucky bastards.

Once Yoongi was thoroughly disarmed, you continued breezily, “Hypothetically speaking, would you let me be the one to use said mop? After all, it’s both my job and my mess.”

“Hypothetically?” He repeated, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Your eyes narrowed further as he paused to formulate a counterpoint. Meanwhile, Yoongi’s involuntary smile spread in a straight line across his face.

You’re a goddamn delight, full stop.

“Assuming, for the sake of this argument, that I do concede the mop in question —” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, “— How could I be sure that you wouldn’t hurt yourself? After all, you did just try to clean up broken glass with your hands.”

If this had been a gun fight and not banter behind a bar, you would’ve shot him dead. Like lightning, you quickly unraveled your arms and held your hands at the ready. That effervescent grin of yours might be his undoing instead.

Eyes alight, you threw down the gauntlet: “Gawi, bawi, bo?”

Never before in your life had you played rock, paper, scissors, and lost at every single turn. You’d also never requested a rematch for every loss before, continuing the game into perpetuity; but you had a hypothesis to prove and a perfectly unique smile to make wider.

No matter what you threw, he’d offered a gesture to counter it. If his eyes hadn’t gotten wider and wider with shock as it just — kept — happening, you would’ve simply decided that he was psychic. A mind-reader, predicting your every move before you’d even settled on it yourself.

Spooky.

At the start, his amusement had been more or less concealed. Withheld, even, like it was dangerous to grin with every single one of his teeth. Eventually, though, his shoulders shook the way yours did; and mirth pooled in the corners of his eyes as he wheezed through laughter with you.

You didn’t know him, but still, you couldn’t help thinking: there he is.

At some point during your unending match, he doubled over to catch his breath. Seizing the element of surprise, you’d darted into the storage room before he could’ve stopped you. When you reappeared with a mop and bucket in tow, you’d immediately begun to address the mess you made. It took a few moments of buffering for him to realize what you’d done.

That time around, he hadn’t shouldered your burden for you and thank god for that. First impressions were never your strong suit, and you were already starting from behind. Always too much, you couldn’t be useless, too.

Instead, he’d simply resigned himself to swapped names and spiked blood pressure as you struggled — stubbornly and independently — to dump the contents of that yellow, wheeled mop bucket into the utility sink. Standing quietly out of your way, Yoongi had looked close to proud when you managed to do it all without spilling a drop.

See, you’d thought, I’m verifiably Not Useless!

Once the evidence of your clumsy crime had been disposed of, you’d returned the cleaning supplies to their rightful space in the storage room’s closet. Similarly, you and your patron returned to your rightful places: him on his stool at the front of the bar; you, finally fixing him a drink behind it.

Ardbeg, single malt, neat.

After sliding the glass across the mahagony to his waiting hand, you glanced towards the front entrance. As usual, there were no pedestrians wandering this way; no cars on the street, either. The only quiet part of Seoul — especially on a Saturday night.

The bar routinely bordered on empty, but it had some magical quality to it: Nobody you saw inside for the first time seemed to be there for the first time. This was especially odd because it wasn’t a place anyone went to, just a place they ended up. Nobody’s first choice, it was a last resort only visible to people who knew where to look for it.

Yoongi was the first one to speak, unknowingly putting an end to your mythologizing. You just barely flinched at the surprise of his voice, but he managed to catch it. Then, he conducted a brief yet careful study of your face to determine whether you were simply jumpy, or experiencing some sort of medical event.

A gesture like that, done in passing, shouldn’t have meant so much to you. Really, all he did was look at you. It felt like more than that, though, because it was the second-kindest thing anyone had done for you in months — and it occurred merely twenty minutes after the first-place winner.

Now, that’s depressing.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” He hummed, “I only ever run into Yang Daehyun-nim, though it’s been a minute. Honestly, I don’t even know if he’s still around. You know him?”

“Yes, absolutely. He’s my husband.” You deadpanned and Yoongi nearly choked to death on his drink.

You were, of course, fucking with him. The man in question was swiftly approaching ninety, but he looked twice as old. You successfully maintained your ruse until Yoongi’s tongue breached the barrier of his lips and gathered his runaway whiskey.

Where am I? Who am I? Is that legal?

Yoongi simultaneously picked up the joke and his glass. He raised both with pure amusement on his face, “Cheers to the happy couple, then.”

Never one to raise a toast empty-handed, you quickly dumped what little remained of a nearby soju bottle into a shot glass. His eyes sparkled as he watched you race to catch up; even more so when you leaned in to clink your glass against his.

Oh, so he’s pretty pretty.

“To the happy couple,” you echoed.

With both of your drinks dispatched, you grabbed the bottle of Ardbeg to top him up. Expensive taste, you noted, not the low-rent version you were destined for.

If Yoongi hadn’t shown up to order it, that bottle would’ve continued to gather dust on the top shelf. Like you, none of your regulars had the capital to even glance that high. Granted, the sample size was abysmally small at only three (3) people, but the point still stood.

Until Yoongi mentioned Daehyun, you couldn’t think of a single reason why your employer bothered to keep anything like that in stock. Now, that piece seemed to fit. Still, you were puzzled as to why Yoongi would come to a dive like this to drink liquor like that.

Clearly, the man sitting in front of you contained multitudes.

At the exact moment you asked how long he’d been coming here, Yoongi wondered when you joined the staff. Your respective answers came simultaneously, too. His six years easily dwarfed your eight months.

True to form, you joked that he was more qualified to tend bar here than you were. He said his only relevant skill was cleaning broken glass.

It made you sad in some stupid way to realize that you could’ve met a hundred times over by now. Had more conversations like this, haunted the joint jointly rather than on your own. Truthfully, though, you were at least semi-soothed by the timing.

You were a horrible bartender now, but you’d been even worse before. He might not have survived this long.

Once again, Yoongi set your runaway train-of-thought back on track. “Eight months ago.” He took a sip, then he asked, “Is that when you moved to Korea?”

It was a simple question, certainly not an offensive one. The reason it nearly bowled you over was that no one had ever bothered to ask. Nobody seemed to notice the non-native accent that occasionally appeared when you spoke — not unless you referenced its existence first, that is.

Even then, people forgot. You wished you were confident that they simply got used to it, but you had the sneaking suspicion that nobody really listened when you spoke. After all, no one had a reason to give a shit about you, so long as you kept their glasses full.

The weight of your curiosity caused your head to tilt to the side. You allowed a tiny smile to spread as you asked, “What gave me away?”

“Don’t get me wrong —” He held up his hands to prevent a reaction you’d never dream of giving. “It’s not obvious. You’ve got a better grasp than some of my friends do — which is kind of sad, actually. They’ve lived here their whole lives.”

He gifted you a reassuring smile, then came the true prize: he licked his lips absently before speaking again. You had to clench every single muscle in your body to keep from swooning.

That cannot be legal.

“I noticed it earlier, but you were already embarrassed. I didn’t want to risk making it worse.” Yoongi still looked like he was afraid to hurt your feelings. “When you word-vomit — like you did earlier — your consonants sound like they would in English.”

This linguistic assessment didn’t surprise you; it was dead-on. It didn’t embarrass you, either, but you blushed nonetheless. Without thinking, you mused, “Makes sense that you’re the first to say something. You spend more time overseas than most, right?”

For a split second, you swore you saw Yoongi frown. A little twinge, one you would’ve missed if you weren’t so fixated on his every micro-expression. If you could have, you would’ve hit the rewind button and reverted back thirty seconds.

Was it off-limits, finally acknowledging that you knew who you were dealing with? Did it bother him that you did know, and proceeded to speak to him like the glaring disparity between the two of you didn’t matter? Did it matter?

“You mean to tell me —” He started quietly with a flex of his eyebrow. You feared the worst, even though Yoongi didn’t strike you as the type to make your failure to fawn a problem. “— That the place you lived before wasn’t under a rock?”

As soon as he saw your expression morph from panic to blatant relief, his eyes crinkled until every one of his facial features contributed to his smile. It was difficult to process how an expression that gentle hit you like a punch, but it did, and you felt a bit dizzy.

Professionalism be damned, you cracked open another bottle of soju and filled not one, but two glasses. Yoongi smirked — likely unsurprised by your willingness to drink with him on the clock — and easily accepted the shot you slid his way.

“To the worst bartender in Seoul,” You cheered as you raised it.

He rolled his eyes at your self-depreciation, but followed your lead without any meaningful resistance. Like it was choreographed, you both downed your shots in unison. Straight, no chaser. Just the slight burn in the back of your throat and the very first thing your scrambled brain could think to say:

“Do you want to hear a joke?”

Yoongi was clearly stunned by your sudden maneuver, but you didn’t wait for him to co-sign your antics. You cleared your throat like you were about to say something worth hearing, then you warbled, “Knock, knock!”

You expected him to pause again; or worse, to leave you hanging entirely. It was, frankly, stupid how much of an effect the latter always had on you. You were a demented scientist and your bad joke was a litmus test, ready to reveal on the front-end what kind of person Yoongi really was.

Translation: Tell me now if I’m too much. I’m always too much.

“Who’s there?”

He didn’t hesitate. There was no blink of an eye, no breath taken in between your call and his response. This time, it was you who needed a split-second to buffer.

When your brain finally reloaded, you peeped, “Cargo.”

“Cargo who?” Yoongi asked slowly, growing visibly suspicious about where this stupid, stupid road was leading. Somehow, he looked as amused by you as he did continually bewildered.

Springing the trap, you accentuated your shitty punchline with a sing-song tone and pantomime for emphasis, “Car go beep beep!”

Nobody had ever — ever — looked at you the way Yoongi did when you concluded your comedy routine. As if your teary-eyed grin and raucous laughter were something beautiful; and your presence alone wasn’t killing off one, sorry brain cell for every minute that passed.

“Knock, knock,” Yoongi volleyed with a soft chuckle, and without breaking eye contact.

As if you weren’t too much.

Yoongi needed a minute to take inventory.

When he left his apartment at a quarter-til-eight, he was headed out for his first date in a long damn time. It was Seokjin’s setup and that girl’s letdown. For Yoongi, it was another drop in the bucket; one final reason to commit to life as a hermit.

Troll that he was, Yoongi was ready to crawl back under his bridge; emerging only to pose impossible riddles to passersby who didn’t know to stay away.

His brain had given him an out, but for once, he didn’t take it. So, what did he end up with instead?

You, sitting on the bar, going shot-for-shot with him; and telling your self-titled villain origin story with award-worthy narration.

Equally as enthralling as the story itself was the tangential webs you weaved along the way. As he’d already learned to expect, you apologized frequently for the way one thought trailed off in a direction you didn’t intend. He wished you didn’t; he had no trouble following wherever your mind led you.

You, born here but not raised here, returning to claim a master’s degree in photography and to reclaim what you felt you missed out on. Yoongi loved your foreign take on local foods, even if you hadn’t yet acquired a taste for pickled vegetables.

We’ll get you there, he’d promised.

You, gesturing with hand movements so impassioned they nearly knocked you off balance; right off the bar. He was down to listen to you talk about whatever — for any amount of time — because he could feel how much you cared about — well, everything.

Animated, fully alive, and so fucking refreshing.

Him, with one hand on his drink and the other hovering on the bar top near your hip — just in case your full-body laugh did, in fact, provoke a fall.

Yoongi, who do you think you’re fooling?

So, maybe it was never exclusively about concern for your safety — even though you’d demonstrated from the jump that it was warranted. Yoongi was quickly coming to realize that, when it came down to it, he simply liked having you close. He liked you, full stop.

Every now and then, you’d wiggle where you sat, and the denim of your jeans would brush against his knuckles. It was as innocent as contact could be, but for someone so secretly touch-starved, it was bliss. Is this the kind of feeling he gave up, locked away in his tower? It sure as shit made leaving feel worth it.

He was buzzed, sure, but not drunk enough to blame the warmth he was feeling on the liquor. Any flush on his cheeks would only be partly genetic. The rest of it was all you — and the way you talked with your whole body, and that giggle.

Seriously, what the fuck is that giggle? A wind-chime made out of stars?

“Yoongi?”

It didn’t dawn on him that he was staring until you called his name. Then, it dawned on him that he didn’t care if he’d been caught — not even a little bit. Red-handed, all Yoongi could do was smile up at you as you blinked down at him.

He’d thought it before and now he was thinking it again: You are goddamn delight.

You threw your head back and laughed. Maybe it was the soju, or how fucking obvious he made it that he was infatuated with you. Whatever the cause, the effect was music to his ears. He’d record it, if he could, and play it on loop to appease the butterflies going wild in his stomach.

Unfortunately, he was accurate in his prediction. The sudden movement of your laughter sent you reeling, but before you could fall, Yoongi was quick to intervene. He stood abruptly from his stool to secure you; one hand on your hip and the other — unintentionally — on your thigh.

“Shit — Sorry,” Yoongi muttered, though he was very much still holding you. Oh, fuck, his brain screamed as he glanced down at his hand on your thigh. Heart pounding, his gaze flitted from his touch to your face.

Your mouth was still slightly open, but that could’ve easily been attributed to the fact that you’d so narrowly avoided launching yourself headfirst at the ground. If it wasn’t that, then you were looking for the words to yell to get him to back off.

Those were the only possible explanations; and any minute now, his hand would accept his brain’s signal to pull away.

Any minute now. Any —

Yoongi watched it all happen in slow motion and he still couldn’t believe it when you leaned in. Or when your hair slipped over your shoulder and brushed against his. Or when you kissed him quick and pulled back just to smile from mere centimeters away.

“Impressive reflexes.” You were breathless but you still managed to sigh. Have you had freckles this whole time? “What’s that saying? Not all heroes wear Lewis Leathers?”

Your playful tug at his jacket had no force behind it, but even with his feet firmly planted, Yoongi knew that he was falling. His stomach fluttered from the pinnacle of that emotional rollercoaster and, for once, he wasn’t afraid of heights. He’d kiss you again and follow that thrill all the way down.

Or, he would have, if the bell above the door didn’t chime.

Just as quickly as you’d kissed him, you spun around and prepared to dismount from your perch on the bar. Yoongi’s hand still seemed to vibrate, even when you slipped out from underneath. It was absolutely ridiculous that his body missed you already — automatically — but he couldn’t think of any other explanation.

He wasn’t a violent person by any means, but he was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to throw the incoming patron out on their ass and lock the door behind them.

The audacity. Who does this clown think they are, coming into a place of business during their business hours? For fuck’s —

“Finally!” You squeaked as you stuck your landing. Then, you skipped around the edge of the bar and continued on your way towards the door.

Jesus Christ. Even the way you walk is cute.

Yoongi was initially too preoccupied with watching you to notice the intruder, but when he did, he couldn’t force the exasperated look off his face. That is, until he saw the panicked look on the prepubescent face of the delivery boy.

The poor kid’s eyes bugged out at Yoongi from under the brim of his uniform cap. Immediately, Yoongi felt inclined to atone, to bow. Instead, he offered a mildly apologetic grimace for the heart attack he didn’t mean to cause.

You accepted the bags of food into your arms, beaming like the fucking sun as you glanced over your shoulder to Yoongi. “You said you liked Hongdae Dakgalbi, right?”

Yes. Yes, he did. But his brain was spinning its wheels in the mud because —

What he finally said wasn’t a question, but it certainly sounded like one: “You ordered food.”

Clearly, Yoongi was missing something. He glanced around and confirmed that there was, in fact, an operational kitchen still situated at the far end of the room. He pointed to the small window carved out for taking and producing orders. “What about —?”

“Binna called off,” you shrugged through your explanation. Then, you tilted your head with a coy smile, “Were we supposed to starve?”

Yoongi had questions. A lot of them.

First and foremost: When did you summon takeout and how did you manage to go unnoticed in the process? He was certainly staring at you for long enough to catch it. Or maybe his heart-eyes were getting foggy with age.

Also, we? As in, you ordered food with the intention of sharing it with him? And you paid for it?

When his broken brain snapped back to attention, it registered the fact that you’d settled on top of the stool next to his. You either didn’t notice the smoke flying out of Yoongi’s ears, or you accepted his brain damage for what it was. Either way, you were too excited about the piping hot tteokbokki in front of you to notice the way he still lingered by the door.

The delivery boy was long gone by now; he took the first opportunity to get as much distance between himself and the visibly annoyed person he’d interrupted. Looking at it now, Yoongi’s fingers twitched with a desire to engage the deadbolt. But he didn’t — he, a coward, wouldn’t — so he simply reclaimed the spot next to you.

You immediately held up a pair of chopsticks as you fished out napkins with your other hand. Yoongi stared at them for too long, prompting you to look quizzically up at him. You asked no questions, and he couldn’t think of a single reason why he said it, but he blurted out:

“I’m supposed to be on a date.”

Unfazed by the lack of context, you gently tucked that pair of chopsticks into his useless hand. Yoongi blinked down at them like he didn’t know what to do with them. You went back to unpacking your takeout.

“And I’m supposed to be working,” You chirped, as if what he just said — unprompted — wasn’t completely idiotic. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Yoongi shook his head, praying it would knock his trapped thoughts loose. “I meant that I was supposed to be the one buying dinner.” He frowned down at the spread you’d provided. “If I knew you were hungry, I would’ve —“

“Taken a bite by now?” You teased with wiggling eyebrows. “Come on, Min Yoongi, you know the rules. The eldest eats first.”

Stunned wasn’t adequate. Entranced? His mouth hung open, primed to speak, without a single, coherent response on the horizon. Mystified, at the very least. You were always one step ahead of Yoongi, dancing off in a brand new direction.

How on Earth did you do it so easily? How were you so effortlessly bold when he couldn’t even blink without deliberating over the idea for days?

Yoongi wasn’t even jealous the way he would’ve expected to be, meeting his non-neurotic foil. He didn’t want to steal that spark for himself, or try to mimic your fearlessness. If he could just continue to witness it, that would be enough.

You threw him off again when you plucked a small piece of tteokbokki from one of the cardboard containers below and gently maneuvered it into his unwitting, waiting mouth.

Game over. Min Yoongi is done for.

“There we go,” You cooed with a smirk. Then, those chopsticks grabbed a piece of tteokbokki of your very own. You smiled adoringly down at it, winked up at him, and said, “Now we’re off to the races.”

After several minutes of deeply contented, quiet chewing, you turned slightly to gaze at him. You didn’t say anything at first; you simply watched and let your lips curve slightly into an understated smile. Yoongi didn’t care if that was all you did because — for once — he felt seen.

Eventually, you did speak. Your voice was soft, barely casting a ripple through the silence. “Can I ask?”

Your eyes scanned over his face for permission. Yoongi had no idea what your question was, but he doubted that he was capable of saying no to you. Fire at will.

“About the date you’re not on,” You clarified.

The one I was supposed to be on, or the one I might be on instead?

“Why aren’t you on it?”

He didn’t know how to explain any of it without sounding pathetic. He knew he’d rather die than have to relay his earlier misfortune to Seokjin; somehow, though, Yoongi didn’t hesitate to respond to you. Like everything else about the past few hours, it felt laughably easy.

“She’s a friend of a friend,” He began as soon as he wiped excess gochujang from the corner of his mouth.

“He basically harassed me into asking her out because I, uh — I don’t get out much. And I know a lot of people say that, but I really do mean it. You can probably guess as much from my frighteningly translucent complexion.”

Your mouth hitched up at the corner when he joked, but you didn’t laugh. In some odd way, he was grateful that you didn’t — not just because you didn’t enable his self-depreciation, but because you seemed too invested in what he was saying to interrupt him.

Nobody had ever looked at him quite like that before.

He cleared his throat, then he pressed on, “So, I did — and that part was fine. After that, though, I don’t think I slept at all. For, like, days. Now, I think I was just dreading the whole thing, but while it was happening, I figured I was nervous. Rusty, you know?”

Yoongi looked down at his hands, which fidgeted autonomously with his chopsticks. “I put way too much thought into the whole thing — I always do — even though I had this feeling that nothing was going to happen the way I planned.”

He paused, poked mindlessly at a lump of rice, and exhaled a breath he hadn’t intentionally held. Nothing had happened the way he planned, but if it did, who would’ve hand-fed him tteokbokki because they were too impatient to wait?

You dropped your chin in your hand as you continued to watch him. Wordlessly, you reached out with your other hand. Yoongi noticed just in time as you gently removed a piece of lint that had stuck to the tip of his jacket collar. Your eyes followed it as it floated off towards the floor.

Yoongi couldn’t see anything but you.

“You picked this place,” you murmured. Slowly, your eyes drifted back up to his face; he froze solid. The only thing moving was the pounding heart in his chest. “Must mean a lot to you.”

He wanted to be brave and tell you that it meant even more now. He wasn’t brave, though, so he swallowed that thought down with a mouthful of soju.

“She was not a fan, as it turns out. Hated it so much, just from the sidewalk, that she jumped right back in her taxi — yelled at me through the window that she deserved better than to drink bottom-shelf liquor in a dumpster with me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and he wondered which part of that statement bothered you the most. Having your place of employment referred to as a dumpster would be a reasonable sore spot; one he probably should’ve avoided. Fuck. Could he rewind thirty seconds and omit that part?

“Well,” you frowned, “Joke’s on her. This dumpster has exactly one bottle on its top shelf, and it was apparently reserved just for you.”

He could kiss you. He really, really could.

You shifted on your stool, though, and stared out into the middle-distance at nothing in particular. Deep in thought, too, judging by the way your frown curved even further.

“It’s kind of funny, in a shitty sort of way. She more or less told you that you’re not enough, and people love to tell me that I’m too much.”

It was Yoongi’s turn to frown. Who in their right mind could look at you, experience the goddamn magnet that you are, and willingly detach themselves from you? The thought alone made his jaw clench.

There hadn’t been a single second since he met you — albeit, not that long ago — where he didn’t want to see and know more of you. Where he didn’t beg those seconds to slow the fuck down because the night kept moving faster than he wanted it to.

So far, no amount of time felt like enough.

“You’d think it would be nice, being everyone’s favorite new toy,” You laughed, to Yoongi’s surprise.

Looking genuinely amused, you glanced over your shoulder at him. “And I guess, for a minute, it really is. You do your silly song and dance; and everyone loves you — until they don’t anymore. Eventually, your tricks get boring; you burn them out; then they take out your batteries. You get shelved pretty quickly.”

There was a flicker of genuine hurt in your eyes, but you were smiling when you picked your glass up off the bar and raised it. “To always being the wrong amount!” You giggled.

“Nah.” Yoongi shook his head. He grabbed his drink, touched his glass to yours, and winked, “To being just right.”

One way or another, you spent most nights watching the clock, holding your breath, and waiting for midnight.

On New Year’s Eve, it was hope that bloomed bright in your chest like fireworks. When those final seconds dissolved, it meant closing one chapter and opening another. Something bigger, something better, something blank for you to fill in. A year in fresh white paper, with every color at your disposal.

Ten — nine —

For the rest of your midnights, it was relief that finally allowed you to unclench your jaw and drop your stiff shoulders. Closing time. Freedom to clean up, clear out, and drag your tired, little body back up to your apartment.

Thankfully, when your work hours were over, there were only three flights of stairs separating you from your bed, your cat, and your Netflix subscription.

Eight — seven —

Tonight was an outlier, a statistical anomaly. As the short hand inched closer and closer to twelve, your pulse picked up its pace. For once, it wasn’t relief and it certainly wasn’t hope. It was distinctively dread forming a pit in your stomach.

Even more than that, it was a telepathic plea shooting out from your brain that begged, and begged, and begged for more time. Five more minutes, just five more minutes.

Six — five —

You felt stupid, of course, because you knew that neither of you would turn into a pumpkin when the clock struck midnight. There was no spell, just two strangers who happened to be in the same bar at the same time, with bad jokes and a bottle of Tanqueray.

No bomb would detonate, no one would drop dead. When it was over, you’d simply go home, and Yoongi would go home and then…

Four —

That “and then what?” had you frantic. What if this moment ended and nothing followed? What if the magic didn’t survive the night?

You couldn’t take that disappointment; you knew that much. Gripping tight to your last first night, you tore your eyes away from the clock and looked at Yoongi.

He didn’t notice you staring because he had also become fixated on the clock ahead. His brow furrowed just slightly as he observed it, and you wondered what it meant.

Three —

You knew what you hoped it meant.

For all you knew, though, he might’ve been begging that hand to move faster. The end all, be all of justifications to say goodnight and go. To drop the moment in the bin with the spent, citrus garnishes on the way out; and then crawl back into that bed he spoke so fondly of.

The way you did whenever four zeroes lined up in a row like cartoon cherries on a slot machine. A personal jackpot any other midnight, but the farthest thing from a prize now.

Two —

No. You refused to believe that.

In the reality you’d chosen, he was strapped into that rollercoaster car beside you. He felt his stomach flip the way yours did as you stared down at the path ahead. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you were sure that you weren’t up there alone.

So, when the countdown was over, you took a deep breath and stated, “I’m calling a time-out.”

In actuality, it was more than a statement. It was a shout and it startled him so badly that he flinched.

As soon as he resettled on his stool, Yoongi’s neck could’ve snapped with how quickly he turned to look at you. His eyes were wider than you’d seen them at any point in the last four hours. Those once-knitted brows shot up to kiss the blonde strands brushing against his forehead.

You envied them, as stupid as that was.

“You’re — what?” He peeped.

Even louder than before, you blurted out your explanation. “I’m stopping the clock!”

You might’ve been the sole American in the entire neighborhood, but you could guarantee that you still knew less about football than Yoongi did. Knowing all of that didn’t stop you from making your worst attempt at a metaphor, or throwing your hand out to mime your way through it.

“Flag on the play — or whatever, I don’t know.”

At first, his expression didn’t change and you began to panic. Maybe you could duck down behind the bar and he’d eventually forget that you were hiding there. Then he wouldn’t see how pink your cheeks were; how the hope in your eyes bordered on desperate.

Shockingly, you weren’t delusional. You’d simply underestimated him.

Yoongi glanced down at his watch — already two minutes into Sunday — and then back to you. “Wow. Would you look at that? Only a minute til midnight.”

You could kiss him; you really, really could.

“Do you want to, uh, hang out? With me? Like, not here?”

Yoongi was smirking slightly at your stammering, just enough for you to notice, but you didn’t faint the way your body wanted you to. Instead, you doubled down.

“I live in the apartment upstairs, and this isn’t a proposition — it’s also not, not a proposition — but I need to lock-up here, and I still want you with me when I’m done.”

He blinked rapidly like you’d once again shook him off your tail. You watched in slow motion as his smirk dropped, and his brows dipped back into thoughtful wrinkles at the lowest part of his forehead. It hurt, physically somehow, that there was something to consider.

Were you really this egregiously wrong in your conclusions, or had he finally hit his quota with you and decided that you — this — were too much, too soon?

You wanted to explain yourself, to say that you were just offering for him to come up and sit on your couch with you. Because you wanted to keep this night alive and keep talking for as long as you could. Because this was something and you knew it.

You opened your mouth to do so, but he was the quicker draw.

Yoongi looked genuinely conflicted and you believed him when he said, “I don’t think I can. I have to be up in four hours to —”

“It’s okay!” You chirped. Stupid little bird, flying headlong into a window. You smiled and prayed it looked genuine, but Yoongi didn’t look convinced. Still, you breezed, “Raincheck, then — maybe.”

Maybe when you take the trash out later, you can heave yourself into the dumpster with it.

Deciding that your disappointment shouldn’t be his burden, you grabbed the takeout containers from the counter and whisked yourself over to the trash bin to discard them.

In a magnificent showing of restraint, you didn’t stuff yourself inside it, too. Instead, your tidy tornado kept spinning, picking up every glass you encountered and shoving them hurriedly into the dishwasher below the bar.

Are you suddenly Employee of the Month? Why is this the moment you choose to actually do your job?

With your hip, you nudged the dishwasher door closed much more clumsily than usual. Then, you began wiping down the counter at warp speed; damn near scrubbing a hole straight though the wood.

Why are you so frazzled? Are you really this sensitive after being politely turned down by someone you just met? This is what they mean when they say you’re “too much,” and you know what? They’re right.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Yoongi asked because he was lovely.

You were, as it turned out, as bad an actor as you were a bartender. Your reassuring smile was more unsettling than anything else, but you hoped that — maybe — the shake of your head was enough to dispel the concern from his face.

In case it wasn’t, you quipped, “You’ve already done more than your fair share of cleaning tonight, I think. Thanks again for that, by the way. I ran out bandages, so…”

Your sentence petered out when you finally looked up and locked eyes with Yoongi. His expression was indecipherable and, only for a moment, it made your hurried hands stop moving.

“So, I’m glad you came in,” You finished through an exhale, quiet to the point that it was hardly audible. You hoped he heard you, though, as loudly and clearly as you meant it.

Straightening up, you dropped your bar rag into the “dirty shit” bucket underneath the counter. You quickly wiped your hands against your jeans, laughed with no real joy behind it, and hid your wobbling voice behind a poorly imitated French accent, “Et voilà.”

Yoongi was still staring, still unreadable. For a few moments, you simply looked at one another. Neither one of you made a sound — at least, nobody spoke. There were gears grinding in his head, judging by the look on his face, and you swore you could hear them from across the bar.

“I guess I should — um,” Yoongi eventually muttered as he gestured to the door. He briefly glanced at it, but you doubted that he registered what he was looking at.

Oddly, it wasn’t awkwardness that seemed to have him short-circuiting — not as far as you could tell. It was like his brain was moving faster than it could form words, leaving his mouth open with nothing to say.

You nodded. You knew where he was going with this, and you didn’t want to prolong whatever he was so visibly toiling with.

“Yeah, of course,” You squeaked. Somewhere, the world’s tiniest violin began to play as the corner of your mouth hitched up. “I’ll see you around, I hope?”

Then, Yoongi’s gaze dropped to the phone in his hand. If he heard your question, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, deep in thought, he mumbled, “I need to — fuck, okay —” Urgently, he looked back up at you and said firmly, “I’ll call.”

He dashed out the door before you realized the problem with his plan: he had no way to call you.

You’d been so caught up in each other that you never thought to exchange phone numbers. Not only was he now gone, but he hadn’t actually said goodbye.

Seems kind of fitting that yours is the only fairytale without a happy ending, huh?

You occupied the borderline between being a hopeless romantic and a masochist, so you immediately decided that, if you ran, you might catch him before he was truly gone.

Kiss him or kick him, it didn’t matter — you just couldn’t let it end like this.

You skirted around the bar and darted to the door, throwing it open and shocking the bell above it. You were already out on the sidewalk before it had the chance to chime. It was the only sound, and it echoed through otherwise dead air.

Similarly, you were the only person on the street. Judging by the dark windows lining the road, you were the only proof of life in that little corner of Seoul. The lack of visible stars was likely due to light pollution, but you wouldn’t be surprised if they dipped out on you, too.

No matter how many times you looked up and down the street, Yoongi didn’t appear. So, you closed your eyes like an idiot, and wished on a star you couldn’t see that he’d be there when you re-opened them. Standing on the other side of the street, laughing, and asking how you’d missed him on your thirty previous scans.

But he wasn’t.

Yoongi had disappeared like smoke right through your fingers; exiting your night as abruptly as he’d entered it.

You weren’t inclined to stand on the sidewalk all night, stunned by your complete failure to see the plot for what it was. You slipped from the sidewalk, through the front door, and locked it behind you. And once you did, you stood there with your hand on the deadbolt for several moments — just in case.

When no one came to knock, you turned all the lights out and flipped the sign in the front window from open to closed. From there, you made your way to the back of the storage room. Finally reaching the stairwell door in the far corner, you unlocked it slowly like the wait would make a difference.

As you climbed the three flights to your apartment’s entrance, the night’s events formed a whirlpool in your mind. The playback settled it: there was simply no way that you were this wrong — not about this.

Clearly, you weren’t clairvoyant to the extent that Yoongi seemed to be. You hadn’t seen it coming when you nearly fell backwards off the bar, but he did. He’d kept his hand close all night like he sensed you’d need it. Just like he sensed every rock, paper, and scissor.

Even still, it felt like a premonition every time you turned to look at him at the same time he did; and you couldn’t put a finger on it.

That something was more than simply chatting with a person stuck in your close proximity — more than commiserating and drinking simultaneously. That was the nature of your job: circumstantial friendship. Not uncommon, not designed to last beyond last call.

This, though? Cosmic interfere or craziness, maybe, but not nothing. You weren’t superstitious and you didn’t necessarily believe in fate, but the odds of all of this had to be shockingly low.

It felt cinematic, in a way, or straight out of a dream. You would have believed it either way if the pinch of your fingers on your forearm didn’t debunk both theories. It was all too perfectly timed to be a coincidence, though, you knew that much.

Out of all the nights you’d worked at this bar — and all the years he’d been a customer — this was the one time your paths had crossed. And when they finally did, he found you right when you needed him. The same, you hoped, could be said for him.

Too Much meeting Not Enough, proving perfect balance. It was just right, but the ending didn’t fit.

Sure, he knew where to find you — but that was assuming he wanted to. With his quick and wordless departure, your confidence in that assumption wavered as you unlocked your apartment door and stepped inside.

The ball’s over, Cinderella. Sorry about your shoe.

When his third call went to voicemail, Yoongi was ready to launch his phone down the alley.  

There was no fucking way that Seokjin — of all people — was asleep already. This could not be the night that he turned off whatever game he was playing and went to bed at a reasonable hour. Seokjin was rarely reasonable. As it turned out, he wasn’t reachable, either. 

Yoongi growled, kicking the nearby dumpster. He thought that some explosion of physical activity might take the focus off his anxiety, but it didn’t — it just made his foot hurt. 

“Fuck!”

He didn’t even want to make the plans he was now trying desperately to reschedule. He didn’t like fishing; he liked his friend, and his friend liked fishing. So, Yoongi agreed to share the cost of renting a boat that he would have to leave at five o’clock in the morning to catch.

If it's 00:17 now, I have three hours and forty-three minutes until —

The unexpected chiming of his phone stopped Yoongi’s pacing before he could wear a trench into the concrete. “Finally!” 

“Do you always yell at people instead of greeting them?” Seokjin scoffed. As expected, Yoongi could hear some sort of video game blaring in the background.

Typical.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry, but I'm not going to make it back in time. Can we re-schedule this fishing thing?”

Yoongi felt awful for having to ask in the first place, but he felt even worse as he anticipated Seokjin’s reaction. Yoongi swallowed disappointment and stewed in it. Seokjin was quite the opposite, and Yoongi didn’t want to ruin his night. 

To Yoongi’s surprise, he did not get yelled at the way he expected to. Instead, he got Seokjin’s juvenile, sing-song voice directed right into his ear, “Ooh, staying with Hyunjoo, are we?” 

Yoongi, having completely lost the plot, paused for a moment before asking, “Who?” 

“What?” 

Oh, fuck, was that her name? It’d slid out of his brain the second that abuse slid out of her mouth.

Quick to avoid that conversation, Yoongi sputtered, “I’ll give you the story tomorrow, hyung, but I really need to go. Can we push the fishing thing to another day?"

“Oh, I forgot to book the boat, so don’t worry about it!” Seokjin cheered and Yoongi was this close to following through with chucking his phone like a grenade. “Have fun with —” 

Not inclined to wait another second, Yoongi hung up and turned to sprint up the alley towards the bar’s entrance. When he reached it and found the lights out, he skidded to a stop so forcefully that he almost fell over. What the fuck? He tugged at the door handle just to make sure he wasn’t missing something. 

Didn’t he tell you he was going to make a phone call? 

Fuck! He'd said I'll call. He didn't say that he was going to call Seokjin, and he sure as shit hadn't clarified that he was going to do so right that second. There'd been no explanation, no “please wait because I promise I’m coming right back for you" — just a mad dash out the door to get rid of the only thing standing between him and more time with you. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

Yoongi never indulged in unadulterated rage because he decided a long time ago that it took more effort than it was worth. In that moment, though, he felt the overwhelming urge to punch himself right in the face. How did he fuck it all up this badly?

Instead, Yoongi scrubbed his hands over his face and begged his brain to figure out a better plan. He couldn’t just call you because he was too busy making googly eyes at you to ask for your number. He couldn’t pick the lock because it was illegal — and because he didn’t know how.

Unable to do anything else, Yoongi threw his head back with every intention of screaming at the sky. But before he could let his frustration rip out of his mouth, he saw it: his saving grace. 

Mere moments after he sprinted up the alley, Yoongi was tearing back down it like his life depended on it. The end of the iron emergency ladder sat too high off the ground for him to comfortably reach it, but — thankfully — he had garbage at his disposal. Without a second thought, he stacked whatever semi-sturdy trash he could find to bridge the gap between him and your fire escape. 

With all the strength and recklessness of a lovestruck teenager, Yoongi threw his twenty-four-year-old body upwards and grabbed hold of the nearest rung.

Maybe you overestimated that strength a little bit, eh, Yoongi?

He gritted his teeth and pulled himself up enough to swing a leg up, too. Groaning triumphantly, he hooked the bottom of his shoe on the lowest rung. 

From there, it was easy enough to reach the first landing. When it came time for Yoongi to tackle the other two, he picked up the pace — and he didn’t give a shit about how sore he’d be tomorrow. 

Finally, finally, finally, he reached his destination. Unfortunately, that fleeting moment of relief was replaced by fear as he stooped down to knock on your window. Staring back at him through the darkness was a pair of big, yellow eyes.

Yoongi shouted as he stumbled away from the window. He knocked over a planter on his way down, landing on his ass with a crash and a grunt. Adding insult to injury, that black cat looked positively smug as it stared down at him.  

It was quiet when you called out — in English — from another room. “Toph, did you break something? I thought we talked about this, bub." As your voice grew closer, you switched to Korean, "You can't ruin my stuff until you start contributing to this household.”

What's the incubation period for lovesickness?

Yoongi heard footsteps headed towards whatever room he’d failed to break and enter. He saw the light as it flicked on, and then he saw you — wearing a fluffy, tan headband with little, round ears at the top —with a bare face glistening as if you’d just finished tending to it.

Oh, fuck. Is lovesickness terminal? 

If your eyes opened any wider, they might’ve fallen right out of your skull. They would’ve landed where Yoongi did — in the mass grave of pepper sprouts he’d just outright annihilated. But they stayed beautiful where they belonged, and you simply gawked at each other. 

Yoongi spoke first despite not thinking first. “Toph? Like, Beifong?” 

Your shock gave way to the biggest, brightest smile and Yoongi was thankful it didn’t blind him. If it did, he would’ve missed the way your cheeks went pink to match the tips of your ears. Whatever the shade, it was his new favorite color.

Just bury me in this potting soil, doll. I'm dead. 

“Yoongi,” You started with a giggle that turned into a hum when you pursed your lips and tilted your head. Your eyes narrowed and then you asked, “Any reason why you chose the fire escape over the door?” 

The what? 

Sensing his confusion, you leaned out the window and pointed. Yoongi’s eyes followed the invisible line from your fingertip until they located an awning, which sat mere meters away from his impromptu stepstool made of trash.  

Inwardly, he winced. Outwardly, he turned to you with a lopsided smile. “I was checking out your little garden."

Yoongi cleared his throat, now wincing outwardly, “And, uh — then I killed it, a little bit. I promise I’ll replace everything as soon as the shops open. I am so —” 

“Cold? I bet,” You interrupted with a smirk, “Come inside then, Min Yoongi. Just don’t break the window too, alright?” 

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

Immediately, he was on his feet, furiously dusting potting soil off the back of his legs. When he suspected that he’d gotten it all, Yoongi turned around and glanced at you over his shoulder. Even without a question, you knew what he was asking; you signaled okay with your fingers and a giggle. 

With more care than he’d ever shown in his life, Yoongi crawled through the gap you created when you ducked back through the window. Once he had his feet underneath him again, he quickly toed off his shoes and plucked them off the tile.

As soon as he was upright again, you took his wrist in your hand — oh god, your skin is so criminally soft — and led him through your kitchen to the living room. 

Gently, you set his shoes down on the mat beside your front door. Then, you turned back around to gaze up at him. Looking at that face of yours, Yoongi forgot every word he’d ever learned. It was just his hammering heart beating in time with yours, until: 

“So, this is where I live.”

You were close enough that Yoongi could smell the toothpaste on your breath when you spoke, but still too far. You must’ve thought so, too, because you shifted your weight to your other foot and wound up slightly nearer to him. 

Yoongi hummed in reply, though he could barely hear it over his pulse pounding in his ears, “It’s nice.”

He didn’t actually know if that was the case because he’d spent every second so far staring at you, but he had faith that you’d prove him right.

More quiet, more anticipation disguised as quickening breaths.

Like a magnet, you drew him in. Yoongi echoed every tiny move you made towards him until the distance was gone; and he could feel the heat of your body mere centimeters from his.

This close, he could see flecks of gold in your irises that he hadn’t noticed before. Yoongi knew he shouldn't have been surprised. If he'd learned a single thing tonight it was that hidden treasures were par for the course with you.

“Yoongi.” 

It was baffling how you could sound so shy, even with desire blowing your pupils wide. Just as confounding was the fact that Yoongi knew, without question, that you felt it, too — that this new and perfect something was the start of everything.

“Please, just kiss me already.” 

That wasn’t an opportunity he’d ever expect to turn down. 

You were already breathless, weightless, and floating in fucking space when you finally crossed over the threshold into your bedroom.

Because, fuck, that man took your oxygen with him whenever his lips left yours. Without even trying, he’d fashioned himself into a ventilator that you really might suffocate without.  

Thankfully, whenever he pulled away, he didn’t stray far. Even as you both stumbled towards your unmade bed, tripping over obstacles — up to and including Toph, whose favorite spot was between your ankles — there was always one hand on your hip and another lacing fingers through your hair. 

As you moved, you couldn’t help thinking of the leftovers you’d brought home from work before. All single-use encounters, wastes of time that you normally didn’t care to recall. Though he may end up being the last, Yoongi wasn’t the first person to have you in this position.

He was, however, the only person to rescind his tongue just to comment on the tiny, design details of your shit-box apartment. 

“How did you —” He paused to moan into your mouth when your teeth gently claimed his bottom lip. “Find a place with — oh, fuck, you taste like spearmint – original crown-molding in this —” The back of his knees bumped into the edge of your mattress and suddenly, he was sitting. “Neighborhood?” 

There was no way you could ever explain Min Yoongi’s duality. He was unequivocally, fatally hot — and simultaneously, he was the most endearing, grandfatherly person you’d ever encountered. Somehow, this mind-boggling man turned architectural factoids into dirty talk.

You might orgasm on the spot if he brought up your built-ins, and you didn’t know or care what that said about you as a person. 

“I’ll show you the blueprints later if you want,” you giggled while Yoongi ‘s cheeks flushed. Before he could find a reason to feel embarrassed, you tilted his chin up in order to kiss him properly. As you did, you murmured against his lips, “But if you take those jeans off, there’s something else I’d like to show you first.” 

Your little finger was near to his throat as you held his chin captive, so you felt it when it when he growled. Against your knuckle, in your chest, and in that growing ache in between your thighs. There was roughness in him that you’d only seen snippets of, but you’d bet that you could pull it out if you tried.  

Maybe not now while you were both masking nerves, but eventually. 

When Yoongi made to stand, you backed up to give him room to do so. You were already on your knees when his belt came off, unbuttoning his jeans before the leather even hit the floor. As you pulled that zipper down — slowly and carefully — you glanced up at him from under your lashes and watched the breath catch in his chest. 

It wasn’t the first time you noticed how fucking beautiful he was; in fact, that thought had been looping through your mind all night. But there was something new in his expression as he observed you taking his cock into your hand.

Something reverent, like he believed he should be the one on their knees.

A few languid, kitten licks at the tip, and his eyelids fluttered. They screwed shut entirely as you ran the flat of your tongue along the vein underneath. When your mouth finally enveloped him fully, his head drooped backwards as he groaned. 

Your name would never sound better than it did exhaled from Yoongi’s chest. 

More often than not, fellatio felt like an obligation. A quid pro quo, you always figured, though none of them kept up their end of the deal. But with Yoongi buried in the wet heat of your mouth, it was a gift you might never get tired of giving. Every breathy moan and involuntary twitch felt like a prize — and still, neither came close to the way it felt when he looked at you. 

In those fleeting moments when he could focus, of course. 

“I’m fucking dreaming,” Yoongi groaned, bringing his hands up and scrubbing them over his face. “Shit. Perfect figment of my imagination, that’s the only explanation for you. Where the fuck have you been my whole life?” 

You hummed as you let him slip out of your mouth. In turn, it prompted a flurry of expletives to slip out of his. Tracing a feather-light line from hilt to head, you smirked up at him, “Waiting at a bar for you to show up, Min Yoongi. You sure did take your time.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” He laughed, “I already plan to regret that for the next — I don't know — forever?”

He dropped his hands from over his eyes and held them out to you. “Come here, angel. You’re too far away.” 

As soon as you were back on your feet, Yoongi enveloped you in the warmth of his arms. You were halfway to melting when he kissed you; dead and gone when he laid you back against the mattress; and downright astral projecting when the weight of his body was added to yours.  

Not to be dramatic, but is heaven a place on Earth? 

With your head resting comfortably on the pillow, you gazed up at Yoongi as he addressed the tied waistband of your sweatpants. It wasn’t until that knot came undone that you realized: if he’d come home with you earlier — before you’d swapped out your street clothes for shapeless knits — he would’ve had a prettier present to unwrap.  

Lace over your hip bones instead of cotton briefs. A black, balconette bra that made your tits into something worth looking at; not lackluster bareness that barely registered under your paint-stained t-shirt.  

Unintentionally mimicking him, you covered your face with your hands to conceal the way you were blushing. You didn’t even dare to peek through your fingers at him while he dragged your sweatpants down over your legs.

That is, not until you heard the world’s softest chuckle and it hit you like a bus. 

“Pretty girl,” Yoongi hummed. He left a chaste kiss on the top of your left thigh, and you whimpered. So sweet, so brief that your skin still tingled when he moved to mirror that kiss on your right thigh. “Where’d you go, baby?” 

Baby.  

That settled it. Min Yoongi was trying to kill you.

Nobody kissed you that carefully, not ever. No man, no woman, no one in between or beyond spoke to you that softly; turned you to putty in their hands with gentleness alone. Not like he did.

You were going to love him — you already knew it — and that stupid, four-letter word just sealed your fate. There wasn’t a single thing that you could do to prevent it, even if you wanted to. So, your options were limited to one:

Leaning into the fall. 

You reached out with the hand that once covered your face and grabbed him by the shirt to pull him closer. Once he was within range, with the tip of his nose bumping into yours, you stared him dead in the eye and told him just how badly you needed him inside of you. 

It took no time at all for the two of you to cast aside what remained of your clothing. Hand-me-downs mingled with designer items that exceeded the cost of your rent, and you didn’t give a fuck. You discarded your inhibitions in that heap, too, sitting up on your knees as he rolled a condom down his length. 

Yoongi’s return to you was marked by his hands cupping your face. He kissed you until you were no longer breathless, until you felt the rush of air filling your lungs. You followed his lead back down to the mattress where he rested on his side; and without any need for instruction, you draped your right leg over his hip. 

It was the closet you’d been to him, but it still wasn’t close enough 

“Is this okay?” Yoongi broke the kiss just to look at you.  

The fondness in his eyes was competing with concern, but that didn’t surprise you. Considerate to a fault, he’d no doubt been thrown for a loop when you went from zero to one hundred in merely half a second. “I can —” 

Oh, I bet you can.  

But you couldn’t wait. Impatient, through and through — and thoroughly dripping — you shook your head.

Your hand left its place on his bare bicep and dipped down to wrap around his cock. There were two individual heartbeats hammering in sync as you guided him to your cunt, though it sounded a lot like one. 

“Like you said earlier,” You sighed as he pushed into you. “Just right.” 

Six years later...

tagging: @mgthecat @jihopesjoint @jaejoontrashpanda @taebaelove @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @yoongiphoria @sstarryoong @xcherrywaltz @btschimeyplanet @persphonesorchid @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @goodsoop @jkoofier (couldn't tag)

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likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

a/n: holy shit. just, holy shit. i've spent less time on literal thesis papers than i did on this. i'm so thankful for everyone who blew up darksided and blindsided — i really hope this provides context for how these two got together, and how tf they love each other that much. i will not apologize for the sexual cliffhanger because this smut wasn't going to be included, initially! this was going to end at the bar, lol.

also, this is an ode to those very special (very impermanent) nights with someone new that feel like perfect lifetimes in just the span of a few hours. in my experience, they never went anywhere (which i think made them more special, in hindsight) but i wanted to write a fic where things didn't stop there.

anyways, i'm very tired of writing words now, so please enjoy and let me know what you think 🫶🏻

#myg #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts smut #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #re: darksided #re: blindsided #re: foresight #suga fluff #suga smut #bts suga #jade writes

[hrts4hanniehae]

Take a Chance with Me || fourteen

*mostly written parts

remember to comment and reblog

it was quite obvious that yn and seungcheol would be invited to numerous interviews. and of course, they went to most of them.

"so who liked who first?"

"we first met when we were trainees because yn's younger brother and childhood friend were friends with our maknae, Dino. yn was a trainee under a different company and... was his name Jae? I'm sorry but my memory of him is very fuzzy. I believe Jae was a trainee with us until he dropped out due to health issues."

"so we knew each other from the start of our trainee days and I debuted the same year as them, so we were quite close, I would say. But I think I fell first."

"no, i definitely did."

the interviewer sat up in her seat. "really? why is that so?"

seungcheol grasped yn's hand. "it was in 2014 when we were meeting up together with the other 95 liners in Seventeen. yn was wearing this winter coat that made her so pretty. I fell instantly. you can ask jeonghan, he'd be more than happy to embarrass me."

this was news to yn, who couldn't help but smile. "so you did fall first."

"so when did you fall for him, yn-sshi."

"when i first saw him perform during one of his dance practices. his presence was so strong and i don't know... he was so attractive."

seungcheol flushed red.

yn was at svt's dorm, celebrating her rekindled relationship with seungcheol.

"finally you both are together again. after 3 long years."

"thanks to hoshi actually. he sped the process up by a lot."

"noona, we should do a weverse live right now."

"yea, we should."

their weverse live hit record-high views. the app almost crashed. everyone was so curious to see domestic, drunk yncheol.

"hi guys. yn is super drunk and is having a mini concert with hoshi." - mingyu

"they've sung "just do it" 15 times. someone please stop them." - scoups

"wait they're singing yn's album songs now." - joshua

"oh my god i don't want to hear a drunk version of Oceans and Engines..." - jun

"stop hoshi before he ruins Take a Chance with Me" - minghao

"no wait i want to hear this." - jeonghan

"now hoshi is crying..." - wonwoo

"jihoon-ahhhhhhhhh" - hoshi

"no hoshi..." - woozi

"why is yn still singing... now she's crying... scoups!" - seungkwan

"on it." - scoups

"i'm so sorry for this me-"

"HORANGHAE." - hoshi

"..." - svt

"mianhae" - minghao

"everything okay, yn?"

"yea. i finally feel like... i'm home."

he pulled her in for a kiss. "i'm glad you feel this way. maybe now you'll continue writing those good love songs about me?"

she laughed. "we'll see, cheol. but thank you for... taking a chance with me."

now he laughed. "was that supposed to be a joke?"

"no, i meant it. I love you."

"i love you too."

-fin-

a/n THANK YOU FOR FOLLOWING "TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME" AHHHH!!! my first ever smau and kinda long fic. omfg thank you for all the love on this. i'm so so grateful. stay tuned for chpt fifteen, the epilogue. i have something special planned. special thank you to those who always commented/reblogged my posts. yall have a special place in my heart!!!!

note to my taglist: please reblog and comment abt the chpt so i know that you're actually reading my stuff.

summary: 3 years after your breakup with seungcheol, you release an album to cope with your still-broken heart. you didn't expose his name but quickly, your fans and fans of svt begin to connect the dots to the past you wish you could relive. little did you know, the man you loved so desperately would begin to chase you back with the same desperation you so very much desired

inspired by: take a chance with me

pairing: idol!choi seungcheol × fem!idol!reader

genre: past relationship, fluff, angst, best friend!booseoksoon, smau, miscommunication, pining, 2nd chance

warnings: implied self harm/depression, hate comments, updates irregular but will finish because i cried when i thought abt this idea

started: 13.12.23

taglist: fill out the form in my pinned post to be added to the taglist (specify this smau in the pw section)

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tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @atinybitlonely @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @coupskook

#caratsland #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen fluff #seventeen reactions #svtsmau #svt masterlist #scoups x reader #scoups #second chance #seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #dino x reader #dk x reader #hoshi x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #jun x reader #smau #svt angst #svt smau #idol!svt x idol!yn #seventeen smau #seventeen scenarios #svt idol

[souichieatr]

since you are open for writing more shinichiro got-rejected-twenty-times sano content

i am manifesting for you to write some shinichiro headcanons with the mutual pining trope (to not be confused with dating— just idiots in love and unofficial)

or better yet.. husband ! shinichiro content 👩‍🦲 whatever works for you the most qhqjekwl i’m not gonna force you.

but please nothing depressing, or i’ll actually combust on the spot, and not in the good way 😔 /hj

mutual pinning

a/n: shinichiro is the only person who could bring me out of hibernation also lots of clichés

- drops everything for you literally- there was a time he got a text from you saying how your were so tired and had to take the bus home as takeomi was there w him he stood up and told takeomi to watch the shop as he went to pick you up

- you two always hang out with each other omfg literally attached to the hip, everyone already thinks you're together!!! when someone asks you both get flustered and say nono just friends!!!

- you two are watching something on his laptop and your hand is resting on the corner when he starts typing your hands graze each other he stops for a moment and both of you go quiet, "i'm sorry" he says then moves

- one day he starts complaining how every other girl he asks out rejects him, pacing back and forth he can't see the hesitation on your face. "um yeah that sucks" you say fumbling your fingers "i should just date you since you can stand me long enough" after he says this you both stare at each other and laugh awkwardly

- you guys went to go see a movie and you try to whisper something to him and he turned to talk to you and your noses graze each other he backs away and clears his throat

- whenever he starts working on his motorcycle and you're always off on the side talking about something not thinking hes listening but later he'll always bring it up no matter the topic

- emma always teases shinichiro about you, "you like y/n" , "i'm going to tell y/n about this shinichiro!!" even mikey has joined in but takes it further and will say in front of you "shinichiro didn't you have something to tell y/n?"

- your friends tease you too, they nudge you when shinichiro is around or when he's looking at you they giggle when you two are together and they alwayssss say you guys look cute together

- he will never really go out until someone says you're going then he immediately changes his mind, "yeah i'm not really feeling it, i promised emma i'll take her to the mall early tomorrow" he says his friends give him a look "too bad i heard y/n was going" his eyes widen and he soon agrees to go

- going off of the last one, if he knows you're there he'll always sneak glances at you!!! if it's crowded his eyes will find you. he gets nervous when you're out of his sight

- on a windy day a leaf gets caught in his hair you laugh and he looks at you, "there's something in your hair" he tries to ruffle his hair to get it out which completely fails and it just gets lost so you reach up to get it, he leans down a little so your faces are close together you both make eye contact you pull the leaf out with a laugh

- will try and keep you away from the gang scene, anytime someone brings up fighting he'll flash them a glare then excuse themselves from you to talk privately

not proofread

#shinichiro sano #shinichiro fluff #shinichiro imagines #shinichiro x you #shinichiro x reader #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro drabble #tr shinichiro #shinichiro headcanons #shinichiro x y/n

[josibunn]

As another black woman in the Rory Fandom, I have to put my 2 cents in and go at all of the anons' throats who are tryna get buck in your inbox, so most of this is to them directly, love. My money is on the anon who said, "There's no proof that you like your own people" being a white person themselves and trying way too hard at virtue signaling to the effect that it looks racist in the first place. There are certain types of people who say "you people" or "your own people" in place of just saying "Black people!" For Christ's sake...you the type that won't ever use the word black and instead you'll say African Americans. Probably why you couldn't spell the word correctly. I already know you steady say, "I have an African American friend" or "My cousin's boyfriend is African American", and my favorites "I've never been with an African American not because I'm racist, but because I have a preference for my own race, which isn't racist at all."

Josie: You're obviously doing something good twin, congratulations you got your first hater(s). I'm sure these weren't the literal first ones, but it makes sense that you would have some green eyed monsters creepy around cause you gorgeous, you gorgeous lol. I absolutely love your blonde locs, what kind of locs are they?I'm a red/burgundy head now myself but am putting I red/burgundy butterfly locs super soon! Anyways, I'm sorry for blowing you/your feed and askbox up like this but I had to say something because that was wild and most likely all one person lmao. But I wish you the best sleep of your ñife, clear skin, no depression, the cutest pink clothes & accessories that God can grace you with as well as all of the cutest aestetic backgrounds to take selfies in front of, and lastly I wish you the person of your dreams with lifelong happiness.

omfg I remember you omg!! you were one of the first people to ever comment on my SECOND EVER FIC!!!

I remembered it so vividly bc you were so very sweet!! it’s so nice to hear from you again. thank you so so much for your love and support, truly. youn know how much it means to me to have someone many people have my back like this, especially someone who’s been on my account since like day one!!!

you’re the sweetest soul ever!!! also my locs are plain faux/soft locs I got in bulk from amazon ^_^ i’ve had burgundy before too!! thank u sm and it’s so great to hear from you and know you’ve been around for so long, truly!!!

my locs if you were wondering :3

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #rory culkin n reader

[redr0sewrites]

Self Care With Aaravos Hcs

🥀CW: the writer is ridiculously not ok over aaravos, fluff, mentions of non-sexual nudity and bathing, mentions of shaving

aaravos is someone who prioritizes self care alot, and has a lot of self care products. especially within his imprisonment, in the beginning he was very neglectful of himself and lowkey depressed but after he eventually understood the situation and adjusted he would prob start doing self care at least to occupy the time

he has the silkiest, smoothest, thickest most luscious hair uve ever seen and has like a billion products for it

his haircare routine is probably like 40 steps alone 💀 not to mention all of the time he spends styling his hair and brushing it through

aaravos has a wall of all the products that he uses and its all neatly labeled and organized in sections depending on what its used for

if u want to help him with his hair, he will gladly let you wash it for him however will instruct u on the specific process and will make u use all pf his products in a super specific order 😭😭😭

he would also wash ur hair for u too, and is super gentle if u have curly hair like me

i wouldnt say this is a self care hc, but when hes out of his prison he definitely styles his hair a lot more than just leaving it down! i hc that he would probably wear it in so many styles, and will spend a lot of time in the morning braiding it or tying it up and adding in accessories :)

i feel like he would do skincare too, i remember seeing this one silly comic on the official tdp website that you can find here, but its basically a (joke) comic ab aaravos dealing with a pimple that i just found hilarious and i feel like would it be very in character for him to have a super good skincare routine

if ur someone who has/had really bad acne and skin like me, he would definitely do skincare with u and would teach you about elven products that he likes (only if u wanted him too tho)

he likes doing face masks with u and the both of you love having self care and skincare days where u guys just chill

its so funny when u walk in on him relaxing with a face mask on and cucumbers over his eyes, but its also kinda endearing that he trusts u enough to be so relaxed and vulnerable around u!

aaravos has a lot of body washes and soaps, and when the two of u bathe together its like a whole mf spa he will pour in bubbles and use all these nice smelling soaps like omfg hes so spoiled but u both love it

along with that, i feel like hes the type to use a lot of body scrubs so he always smells nice yk? i also feel like hes the type to shave and keeps his body hair to a minimum, but doesnt really care what u do ab that he just feels more comfortable without it

when yall bathe or shower together u cant help but admire him cuz hes just so,, pretty and its so mesmerizing to watch him go through all the steps of his self care routines-

im imagining him gently running his hands through your hair as he washes it, humming softly to himself and gently holding your head and cupping your face as he rinses the soap out, placing soft kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders auugh. he then proceeds to carefully wash your entire body, softly rubbing his body soaps across your back, down your chest, on your legs and wherever u want, hes very content in just washing u and worshiping your body. aaravos will trail kisses all over ur body after washing u, hes so devoted to u do mi ti why not me im gonna cry why arent u real

i also feel like aaravos would have very pretty hands and uses a lot of lotions and oils for his hands and nails, he does nail and hand selfcare and will do your nails for u if u want him too!

i feel like he would keep his relatively short but still a little long, and would absolutely ROCK glittery silver nails!!!

he will kiss u on the back of ur hand when hes done doing ur nails for u hhhhhh im not ok

he loves it when u use his hand lotions, or any of his products really. theres a possessive part of aaravos that is very pleased seeing u enjoy his products, and the fact that u smell like him and smell good is a bonus

u both will have self care date days and will take care of eachother the whole day, taking turns doing all of ur routines and having a whole spa day and relaxing with soothing incense burning in the background and its just a wonderful and relaxing time with ur lover <3

what i would do to have him be real.... i put WAYY too much effort into this even with the knowledge that nobodies probably gonna read it cuz the aaravos x reader tag is so dead 😔pushing the acts of service aaravos agenda today 🤭 why isnt he real oh my god why isnt he reallllllll people better read this omg i spent so much time on this i put my whole heart soul and pussy into writing this

#tdp #the dragon prince #aaravos #tdp s5 #aaravos x reader #tdp aaravos #tdp x reader #the dragon prince x reader #tdp theories #aaravos fluff #aaravos tdp #aaravos headcanons #aaravos x you #aaravos x y/n #selfcare #self love #self care #this is so self indulgent #the dragon prince fanart

[kruinka]

VERY LONG! blue lock romfan hcs

i am not a writer and idk how to format but hear me out

isagi as transmigrated mc but before he transmigrates he was playing this otome game and was shitting on all the leads

“theyre all assholes why would the mc ever like them ew”

but he had to play it bc he promised his friend he would and isagi is a nice man and then next day he takes a soccer ball to the face and falls on a rock or smth and dies

-now hes in said game world as a side villain -bc yukimiya is the original mc -and side villain shows up for one scene shits on yuki and is never to be seen again

original mc yukimiya is def the horribly ill only child of a really doting marquis father who lost his wife (slept for three years and this tragic story is known everywhere)  -wakes up the day isagi transmigrates

boom

plot

rin & sae are imperial princes of the empire

BUT

sae self exiled and demoted himself to the far north so sae is ALSO the northern duke trope -which leaves rin in the palace having all the heir duties pushed onto him -but he doesnt want to be the next ruler bc he wants it to be sae -it was always meant to be sae until he uP AND LEFT HIM LMFAOOO

sae left bc he knew his supporters were plotting to kill rin to secure saes seat on the throne bc rins influence on the ppl as a prince was growing

so he gave up his right to the throne and left so rin would be safe in the palace

rin is the tyrant prince thats mean to everyone but also very hot and then you find out he has hellaaaa issues -including but not limited to: inferiority complex, abandonment issues, anger issues, emotionally constipated, 50 shades of anger and depression -the rin and sae routes are most definitely the most dangerous ones bc how do people not die when brothers fight

💪💪💪can u tell my brain opens big when it comes to romfan

kaiser is the young and newly crowned emperor from an empire across the seas or smth -ok bastard child born from a one night stand between emperor and a commoner maid -commoner maid became a consort but empress no likey -so empress and her children constantly go after his life -but after emperor dies kaiser kills them back?? and takes the throne himself and to protect his birth mother

ness as master of the magic tower -neutral faction -but ness himself comes from wherever kaiser is from and was his childhood playmate -ness is a funky guy that is smiley but has the power to destroy a village with a snap of a finger -fire magic user probably

nagi is one of the newcomers to the magic tower -a genius bc in these tropes not everyone can use magic -and even less are actually good at magic -wind magic bc its literally his NAME

nagi was commoner but one day found out he could use magic -bc he wanted to save his cactus or smth -and then elder of magic tower was like weewoo come with me i pay u lots and u just sit there and hes like okie

GASP

NAGI USED TO WORK FOR REO AT THE COUNTY AND THEY WERE CLOSE AND REO WAS DEVASTATED TO SEE HIM GO TO THE MAGIC TOWER OMFG

reo is heir to the richest county in the empire -nagi used to be his gardener or smth idk -so when nagi left him he went through his breakup arc -in original story he would fall for mc yukimiya who helps him out of his slump -but due to isagi shenanigans he somehow made up with nagi -and tries to buy him back from the magic tower????

bachira is human raised by fae -funky boi who hasnt lived amongst humans -also in magic tower -brings nagi to escape at night to go play and ness wants him dead sometimes

isagi is obv replacable with urself bc i want to make it so mc yuki falls for isagi too bc isagi harem yuhh

chigiri is illegitimate son of a marquis -the cheating wife dressed him as a girl and raised him like a girl so the marquis wont kill chigiri -bc if the illegitimate son was a boy he would have a right to be the heir and marquis no likey -if girl then he just wont give a shit abt the girl -later the wife has a son with the marquis which means chigiri is fucked -bc marquis wants HIS son to be heir but his son is younger than chigiri -should chigiri ever reveal himself to have a pp he would have to be sent off to the afterlife -after he becomes a legal adult he kills his dad or smth and becomes marquis himself or he just runs away -and hes hella traumatized

barou king of mercenaries must i say more

shidou head of some knight's division idk -but he swore loyalty to sae specifically -hes still guarding the palace tho

itoshi "why dont you listen to me" rin and shidou "i only take orders from itoshi sae" ryusei

kunigami is a war hero turned sword of the empire -traumatized by war -hella

kurona is palace attendant that has a bit of a crush on mc yuki -on the bad end of his route he dies trying to help mc yuki escape -but after isagi stuff theyre all besties and alive i guess

or more wink wonk

hiori is a smiley boi who became count at a young age bc he is very responsible and nice -but he actually owns the biggest information guild in the empire and has a whole assassin squad under him -do not mess with him he is gamer

karasu is the emperors assistant and he just wants to retire -everyday not only does he have to deal with the emperor -he has to deal with rin throwing fits -and making sure sae isnt actually starting a coup in the north

nanase is the mandatory best friend of transmigrated mc

noel noa as the legendary hero but is also a transmigrator that came before isagi

chris prince is the wacko shaman that lives in the forest that gives out this info abt noel noa i think thats it?? all the important ones at least

#IM SO SORRY FOR THE POOR FORMATTING IDK HOW TO DO THIS #I JUST COPY PASTED FROM MY MESSAGES TO MY POOR FRIEND #FOR THE ANON THAT WANTED TO KNOW MY BRAINROT #definitely doing art for this #adding tags bc my friend made me do it #isagi yoichi #michael kaiser #yukimiya kenyu #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #karasu tabito #hiori yo #shidou ryusei #nanase nijiro #noel noa #chris prince #kurona ranze #kunigami rensuke #chigiri hyoma #bachira meguru #barou shouei #reo mikage #nagi seishiro #alexis ness #blue lock #bllk #bllkrfau #krn bs ╰（‵□′）╯

[star4daisy]

people i wanna get to know better!!!

aaa i love this thx for tagging me @sugarsnappeases if i dont do this once a month I get depressed lmao

last song - kill bill by sza

fave colour - sea green

last film/show - film was the invitation, its not that good but i watched with my babe so it was fun and show was def pjo with my lil sis im loving it

sweet/savoury/spicy - i have a sweet tooth as in need to eat chocolate every day but i love spicy food as in every food needs to have peppers in it otherwise its not properly seasoned lmao

relationship status - lemme go check real quick

last thing i googled - how to say vesícula biliar in english lol

current obsession - im currently obsessionless and its awful omfg i need a new obsession desperately i miss it

last book - i haven't finished a book in so long like I've been bouncing between 3/4 hoping one of them will stick (i think the last one i ac finished was god of fury on december lmao)

looking forward to - travelling I'm going tomorrow and I'm so exciteeeed

np tags: @fromagony @reggie-the-inferi @satansssgayassistant @sylviaplathenthusiast @214lilacsky @orchideous-nox

#tag games

[ventique18]

Really really sorry for my flood of useless posts but I don’t know what to do with my feelings omfg. I love Malleus so much. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. I DON’T WANT TO SPOIL MYSELF TOO BADLY BUT I ALSO LOVE HIM SO MUCH THAT I FEEL SAD I’M NOT UPDATED ON WHAT HE’S DOING? But I also don’t want to FEEL bad by reading his depressing shit? I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I’M GOING INSANE? My heart is a mixture of happiness and love and impatience and longing and horniness for him and also a dash of pitying sadness IDK WHAT I’M FEELING

MALLEUS HAS ME CURSED. I CAN’T SLEEP. I’M SO TIRED PHYSICALLY BUT MY MIND IS ON AN OVERDRIVE. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

#ventique agonizes

[froggibus]

Fine, Not Fine - Baptiste

Pairing: Baptiste x reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 850

Summary: in your worst hour, Baptiste is there to comfort you

CW: panic attacks, allusion to depression, allusion to PTSD, very fluffy and cute after I promise

i am once again writing hurt/comfort lol. baptiste is such a cutie & ive wanted to write him again ever since he came out so here’s something lol <;3 also omfg the OW pride midtown gifs are so cute

————

Baptiste glares at the glowing of his laptop screen, the words on the page starting to blur together. He’s been working on this research for hours but he doesn’t feel any closer to getting it done. He sighs, his thoughts wandering back to you. 

You’ve been in bed for hours now but he’s almost certain you haven’t slept a wink. You haven’t been yourself lately, and no matter how many times he prompts you to talk about it, you refuse. He only wishes there was more he could do to help. 

You stare blankly at the tv screen in front of you, fists clenching in the blankets. You squeeze your eyes shut and attempt a deep breath, but the air won’t enter your lungs. You try to take another breath in a panic but it feels like all of the air in the world is gone. 

Your heart races almost as much as your thoughts, and every breath you get less and less air. It’s fine, it’s fine, you’re fine, you try to reassure yourself. But you’re not fine and it’s not fine and it hasn’t been fine in a long time. 

You move your hands from the covers to your hair, tugging hard on the strands. Anything for the pressure you so desperately need right now. 

You don’t even notice the door open or your boyfriend kneeling at your side. 

“Y/n,” his voice is soft, reassuring. The one you’ve heard him use a thousand different times with a thousand different patients. “Y/n, look at me.”

His words are an empty echo in your ears, drowned out by the crippling weight of your own thoughts. You shake your head, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You want to tell him you’re okay, but you can’t get the words out, and even if you could, that would be a lie. 

Seeing you like this, he’s vaguely reminded of himself. Of nights much worse than this, with thoughts just as bad as yours. Of the days before he met you when he would curl up and hide and wish he could take back everything he ever did. 

He remembers what he needed then, how he desperately wanted someone to hold him and tell him things would be alright. 

He climbs into the bed with you, pulling you close so that you’re sitting between his legs. Your back rests against his chest, his strong arms holding you tight against him. You’re so close you can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, feel each warm breath against your neck. 

He squeezes you between his legs and his arms, cocooning you within his whole body. He wishes he could keep you here forever—safe and warm and sheltered within him. He keeps his breathing slow and steady, keeps the pressure on you constant. The logical part of him knows that your body will begin to mimic his breathing and heart rate after a while, but the emotional part just wants you to be better now. 

The smell of his cologne washes over you. His body heat warms you, his touch consumes you. You shut your eyes and rest your head against him, listening to his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. You don’t even realize how much his touch calms you until you can suddenly breathe again, until your heart stops pounding and your head clears. 

Baptiste squeezes your upper arms, gently rubbing his hands up and down. “How are you feeling?”

“B-better,” your voice is raspy and your mouth is dry. “Thank you.”

“Let me get you a drink.”

You nod slowly, watching as he unfurls himself from around you and makes his way out of the room. You lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling until he comes back. 

He has a cup of tea in one hand, a cloth over his shoulder and a granola bar in the other hand. “I thought you might be hungry,” he admits. 

He places the cup and snack on your nightstand before settling into the bed next to you. He pulls the cloth off of his shoulder and starts to dab the warm fabric across your face. 

You look up at him with those sad, puffy eyes while he wipes away the salty trails left over from your tears. His touch is so gentle, so careful—it’s like he’s done this a million times. 

He pulls the cloth away from your face. “There, all better,” he smiles and kisses your forehead. 

You wrap your fingers around his index, tilting your head at him in admiration. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“For you? Always.” And you can tell from the glow in his eyes and the kind smile on his face that he really means it. 

He grabs the remote off of the bed and turns on your favorite tv show, letting you lay between his legs once more. He gently tugs on your hair, traces circles on your thighs, subconsciously touches you while he watches the tv. 

You let yourself relax into him, knowing that as long as he’s there, things really will be okay.

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #ow #overwatch fic #xreader #overwatch headcanons #x you #baptiste augustin x you #baptiste augustin #jean baptiste augustin #baptiste x reader #baptiste x you #overwatch baptiste #baptiste augustin x reader #baptiste #ow baptiste

[peccaberry]

I am archiving my April fools day ACD chapter here so when I take it down tomorrow people will still be able to find it! Thanks so much to everyone who read it and told me they got a good laugh, I had a ton of fun making it ❤️ (Also here's a link to ACD in case you want to read the actual fanfic and not just my joke chapter)

Hi my name is Rei Dark'ness Dementia Raven Akabane and I have short slate black hair (that's how I got my name) with spiky tips and steely grey eyes like a knife and a lot of people tell me I look like Champion Lucas (AN: if u don't know who he is get da hell out of here!).

I don't think I'm related to Lucas but I wish I was because he's a major fucking hottie. I'm a Pokemon trainer but my Pokeballs are all made of Red Chain because I'm wayyyy better than the other trainers. I'm also in the Survey Corps and I work for the Galaxy team in Hisui where I'm at rank ten (I'm only 16 tho LOL). I'm a badass (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly bloody ripped up uniforms because I get in so many fights with dangerous Pokemon ( I always win tho!!). I love Anthe's clothing stall and I buy all my clothes from there.

For example today I was wearing a bloody Survey Corps uniform with a matching red hat (because of the blood lol) and black eyeliner to make me look scarier. I was walking down the main street of Jubilife Village. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of security corp members stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

"Hi Rei!" shouted a voice. I looked up. It was…. Volo!

"What's up Volo?" I asked.

"Nothing." he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friend Akari call me and I had to go away.

The next day I woke up in my quarters. It was snowing and raining again. I opened the door of my cabinet and drank some sake from a bottle I had. My cabinet was oak wood and inside it was all the stuff I got from killing all those Pokemon out in the field.

I got out of my futon and took of my Kalos t-shirt which I used for pajamas. Instead, I put on a Fancy Cyndaquil Kimono, a Chatot feather necklace, and red sandals. I scowled into the mirror scarily and made my hair even messier than before.

My friend, Akari woke up then and grinned at me. She flipped her long waist-length Slate black hair and opened her knife grey eyes. She put on her Survey Corps uniform with a matching bandana and shoes. We put on our makeup (lots of black eyeliner and mascara so no one would fuk with us!!!)

"OMFG, I saw you talking to Volo yesterday!" she said excitedly.

"Yeah? So?" I said, blushing.

"Do you like Volo?" she asked as we went out of the Quarters and into Jubilife Village.

"No I so fucking don't!" I shouted.

"Yeah right!" she exclaimed. Just then, Volo walked up to me.

"Hi." he said.

"Hi." I replied flirtily.

"Guess what." he said.

"What?" I asked.

"Well, Irida and some of the others are having a concert at Prelude beach." he told me.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God!" I screamed. I love Irida! She's my favorite musician, besides myself of course.

"Well…. do you want to go with me?" he asked.

I gasped.

On the night of the concert I put on I put on a Fancy Cyndaquil Kimono, a Chatot feather necklace, and red sandals.

I ruffled my hair and made it look all spiky. I felt a little depressed bc I missed my parents, so I cried and made my mascara run down my face. I tried to read a depressing book while I waited for it to dry and I listened to Chatot sing in my voice.

I painted my nails black and put on TONS of black eyeliner. Then I put on some black lipstick. I drank some sake so I was ready to go to the concert.

I went outside. Volo was waiting there in front of the Ginko guild cart. He was wearing a Ginko Guild Uniform (they would be selling stuff at the concert too), huge boots, black nail polish and a little eyeliner (AN: A lot fo kewl boiz wer it ok!).

"Hi Volo!" I said in a depressed voice.

"Hi Rei." he said back.

We hopped into the Ginko Guild cart and Machoke pulled us to the prelude beach. On the way we listened excitedly to Chatot sing while we both smoked pokemon weed and drugs. When we got there, we both hopped out of the cart. We went to the mosh pit at the front of the stage and jumped up and down as we listened to Melli sing along to Irida's flute.

"You come in cold, you're covered in blood

They're all so happy you've arrived

The doctor cuts your cord, hands you to your mom

She sets you free into this life." sang Melli (I don't own da lyrics 2 dat song).

"Melli is so fucking hot." I said to Volo, pointing to him as he sung, filling the beach with his amazing voice.

Suddenly Volo looked sad.

"What's wrong?" I asked as we moshed to the music. Then I caught on.

"Hey, it's ok I don't like him better than YOU!" I said.

"Really?" asked Volo sensitively and he put his arm around me all protective.

"Really." I said. "Besides I don't even really know Melli and he's going out with Adaman. I fucking hate that poser, he's no where near as cool as Irida." I said disgustedly, thinking of his stupid smirking face.

The night went on really well, and I had a great time. So did Volo. After the concert, we drank some sake and asked Irida and Melli for their autographs and photos with them. We got souvenir concert charms. Volo and I crawled back into the Ginko Guild cart, but Volo didn't go back into Jubilife Village, instead he drove the cart into… the temple of sinnoh!

"VOLO!" I shouted. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

Volo didn't answer but he stopped the cart and he walked out of it. I walked out of it too, curiously.

"What the fucking hell?" I asked angrily.

"Rei?" he asked.

"What?" I snapped.

Volo leaned in extra-close and I looked into his grey eye which revealed so much depressing sorrow and evilness and then suddenly I didn't feel mad anymore. he suddenly ripped his clothes off and I got excited for a minute but he was wearing some sort of weird gold and white outfit under it. He still looked pretty hot though so I was ok with it.

"Rei this world is stupid. We should just force Arceus make a new one or something."

I gasped and put my perfectly painted black fingernails up to my black lips.

"Oh my god are you serious?!"

Volo shrugged.

"I mean yeah why not. I have a Giratina we can use to do it."

And then all of a sudden someone ran up to us….

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS!"

It was….KAMADO!

Kamado made Volo and I follow him. He kept shouting at us angrily.

"You ludacris fools!" he shouted.

I started to cry tears of mascara down my battle scarred face. Volo comforted me. When we went back to the Galaxy Team HQ Kamado took us to Captain Cyllene and Ginter who were both looking very angry.

"They were planning to destroy the whole world at the temple of sinnoh!" he yelled in a furious voice.

"Why did you do such a thing, you mediocre dunces?" asked Ginter.

"How dare you?" demanded Cyllene.

And then Volo shrieked. "BECAUSE I HATE THIS UNFAIR WORLD!"

Everyone was quiet. Kamado and Cyllene still looked mad but Ginter said.

"Fine. Very well. You may go to your quarters."

Volo and I went out of the while there Galaxy Team glared at us.

"Are you okay, Rei?" Volo asked me gently.

"Yeah I guess." I lied. I went to my quarters and brushed my teeth and my hair and changed into my favorite Kalos Tshirt and shorts with red sandals. When I came out….

Volo was standing outside my front door, and he had a Giratina with him and the sky was bloody red. He was wearing that weird gold and white outfit again. I was so flattered, even though he wasn't supposed to be there. We hugged and kissed. After that, we hopped onto the back of Giratina and flew off together to go end the stupid fucking world!!

The end.

#i obviously dont own my immortal so credit to whoever that genius is #i know you're out there somewhere and you're my hero #peccaspeaks #pokemon #pokemon legends of arceus #achillies come down fanfiction #rei pokemon #pokemon rei #pokemon volo #pokemon fanfiction #my immortal #april fools #a03 #pokemon legends #pokemon meme #akari pokemon #pla #legends arceus

[fatuismooches]

Omfg the angst so much angst for fragile reader with memory deterioration. Imagine that as it gets worse, you start to develop anxiety and depression because you will space out in the middle of reminiscing with you lover and like—"i cant remember! Why cant i remember?! It was my favorite memory!!! So how can i forget what happened?!?!" And then that frustration keeps piling up until the moods turn destructive.

The harbingers do everything they can to improve your quality of life. Writing journals to remind you what you did yesterday, albums to help you rediscover the memories you forgot, and love letters of their own recollections about the past to hopefully keep this relationship alive even at bitterly agonizing moments when you forget who they are.

Related to this!

Yes, it is so much angst, I don't know what was going through me when I randomly thought of it😭 And wow, what you wrote just made it 10x sadder 😭

The looks of pity other people give you hurt so badly. Sometimes you can't understand why - you can't even remember that you're forgetting things. Other times it makes you grit your teeth and curse everything that you can. You brush your fingers over a photo from long ago - perhaps it's a teal-haired man with scholarly robes as he forced you to carry his books, or a ginger trying to feed you some copious amounts of seafood, maybe a beautiful damsel on stage twirling you around. But it just doesn't make any sense to you. Who... were they...? Why couldn't you remember? Why you? Even though you've forgotten them, you can see that you're causing them so much pain.

Every time you look at them with a blank expression, their hearts squeeze and their nails dig hard into their palms, but they keep a smile on their face so as to not scare you more. They're all terribly busy, but they will never slack on trying to help you. Some of them like to hold you as they painstakingly explain every photo, every word of their love letters, no matter how hard it is. Others like to leave little hints around in hopes to spark your memory - maybe ordering your meals to be the ones you ate on the first date, gifting you simple knick-knacks they remember you liking.

It was a hard struggle for them, but the Harbingers' very existence was built on struggle. They could-, no, they will get through this. And you will too.

#smooches talks #fragile reader <3 #harbingers love notes <3 #btw everything relating to fragile reader is under that tag for easy access! #fatui harbingers x reader