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#and how he used to hang out w different cliques so he can have a gf in each one 💀 and that he got away w it for a whole year

bangcrizpychan · 4 years

Text

3 Things I Love Most: Strawberries, Books, and My Dandy Boy

☆Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

☆Genre: FLUUUUFF, high school!au

☆Requested: Yes

☆Word count: 1.8k

☆Summary: A teeth-rotting story about two high school sweethearts that will make Willy Wonka shut down his factory.

The library is always quiet, probably because only a few goes there, just to study and stuff, but you? You were a regular(a/n: Cos I need a bag on the regular, okay sorry) and you treated this place like your own home. So there you were on your daily routine, reading your nth book, and to be honest, you're starting to think the librarian might adopt you for always being there. You were so immersed in your book that you didn't notice someone put a drink in front of you. The person cleared their throat and finally looked up, it was your boyfriend Seungmin. He gave you that adorable smile and pointed at his gift, it was a strawberry milk, your favorite.

"Are you crazy?! You can't bring food in here," you whispered and the latter just laughed, "I thought I would receive a 'thank you', not a scolding from my beautiful girlfriend." You blushed at the word beautiful, you started to panic when you felt your face starting to get red and you avoided Seungmin's stare.

"You should get used to me calling you beautiful, because you are".

"stop it," you grumbled and covered your scarlet face, heart beating faster than usual. Your current state made Seungmin chuckle, how can he not when you're being so cute?

You never imagined that someone like you could ever be in a relationship with someone like Seungmin, you were this shy bookworm, you only have one friend, and you're socially awkward. Your boyfriend on the other hand seems quiet at first, but he's actually really funny and loud, also, he's a part of this popular group at your school who, you may add, consists of absolutely stunning boys.

You only got close to him because your teacher chose him as your class partner last year, and you did have a lot in common, both of you like strawberries, you're clean freaks, and he keeps a journal like yours. Call it fate if you will.

"Hey y/n, do you like someone?" Seungmin asked as you continued to scribble down your chemistry notes. Both of you were in the library, you just influenced this boy to understand the comfort the library offers.

"Wh-why do you ask? D-do you like someone?" you stuttered, completely caught off-guard by his question, after spending time with him by studying together and even hanging out without talking about school, made you fall for him, hard.

"I do like someone actually," he admitted and put a finger on his chin as if he was thinking.

"oh," that was all you said, a part of you hopes that the girl he likes is you, but a part of you breaks when you think about him liking someone else.

"she must be really pretty then, and lucky," you said and played with your fingers, "she is really pretty, it's one of the reasons why I like her," and there goes your heart, you can't compete with someone that pretty. "why do you think she's lucky?" he questioned.

"Well, it's because you're a great guy and any girl will be lucky to have you. Have you tried confessing to her?"

He leaned back to his chair and smiled to himself, "I'm actually planning on confessing to her today," you felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes, "t-that's great, y-you're so brave S-seungmin-a," you lowered your head so he can't see your watering eyes.

"Apparently, she's a little dense too," he sighed, "completely naïve to the fact I'm talking about her," you looked up at him questioningly.

"W-what do you mean?"

"It's you y/n, the girl that I think is really pretty and I'd be lucky to have, is you".

You blinked your eyes too many times that it started to hurt, you mouth felt dry and you started to stutter 'what' 'why' 'really' that you didn't make sense at all.

"It's okay, I know that the person you like is me," he chuckled and you raised an eyebrow at him, "yeah, you're that obvious, y/n," you stiffled a laugh at your stupidity and at his cuteness.

"But I think it's better if you confirm whether I'm right or wrong," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I-I like you too, Seungmin," you finally confessed and you felt the world spinning around you, you cannot believe you just admitted your feelings. The library was too quiet and you were scared he might hear the pounding of your heart.

You ditched your homework and hung out with Seungmin the whole day, your first real date. It didn't stop there though, you did a lot of fun and sweet things together until he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, to which you gladly said yes.

You couldn't help but to smile at the memory, a blush creeping up to your cheeks, "What are you smiling at?" you noticed Seungmin already took a seat while you were busy reminiscing about the past.

"I just remembered when you confessed to me, and our relationship as a whole," you said and leaned over to peck his lips. He bit his lip to stop himself from smiling as his ears began to go red.

"Are you going to Chan hyung's party later?" he asked as you downed the strawberry milk. You wiped your mouth and shook your head, "I can't go Minnie, I still have a lot to arrange at my place," Seungmin nodded but it was obvious that he was kind of disappointed.

---------

You were at your new apartment, cleaning and organizing your stuff when your best friend and only friend, Yeri, suddenly entered your room, "why are you dressed up?" she was wearing a tight dress and bangles plus a face full of makeup.

"Why are you not dressed up?" she said and started to rummage around your suitcase. Since both of you are going to the same university anyway, you decided to get an apartment early so it won't be hard for you to adjust. Thankfully, both of your parents supported your decision and offered to pay your first five months of stay.

"I don't need to dress up, I'm not going anywhere," "you're not going to Chan's end of school party?!"

You stopped arranging your bookshelf and let out a heavy sigh, "you know I won't fit in there, and I can have fun here, I still have a lot of episodes to catch up with," you turned your back against her and shifted your attention back to your books.

"Oh come on, y/n! Loosen up! It's our last year of high school, you don't even need to drink, just be there and have fun!" she gripped your arm and jumped up and down like a child. You're not uptight, right? The definition of fun is different for each person, which in your dictionary, it means lying down in bed, binging on Netflix and bawling your eyes out when a sad scene appears. That's fun. Right?

"Plus! Your boyfriend is going to be there!" you stopped and thought about what you were going to do.

"Well, he kind of looked disappointed when I said I couldn't go to the party," Yeri nodded, urging you to continue, "I guess a break from Netflix wouldn't hurt".

Yeri squealed and hugged you, screaming 'thank you' in your ear while you just released a very unenthusiastic 'yay'.

-----

"I changed my mind, I'm going home," Yeri tutted and linked her arms with yours and basically dragged you towards the house. You were wearing denim shorts that was way too short for your liking and a crop top, you weren't completely uncomfortable, but you felt a little exposed because the outfit is so unlike you. Thankfully, you convinced her to only give you a light makeup but you had to wear heels in exchange.

You hated it. The music was too loud, people smelled like puke and alcohol, Why do people think this is fun? You thought. Yeri left you on the kitchen and went to find her boyfriend, "Wow, what a great friend I have."

"y/n?" someone called and you turned to the source of the sound, it was Hwang Hyunjin, one of your boyfriend's friend.

"Hey Hyunjin, have you seen Seungmin anywhere?" "Yeah, just stay here and I'll call him," and you were left alone again. You knew some of the guests and they were pretty surprised to see you at a party, you merely avoided conversations succefully and you took a lot of interest at a coffee maker.

Who was the genius that came up with the idea to make a machine that could easily ground coffee beans and create such a delicious beverage?

"You're not talking to the coffee maker out of boredom, are you?" you whipped your head and saw your boyfriend, who laughed at your wide-eyed look. He eyed you up and down, and you suddenly felt embarrassed, Seungmin noticed your discomfort and quickly discarded his jacket, he wrapped it around your waist and tied it tightly to the front so it won't fall out. You thanked him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

You met with his other clique of friends and surprisingly, they were all pretty nice and awesome. The DJ then suddenly called the crowd to the backyard and since you guys were already there, you were overwhelmed by the guests who either looked drunk or just wanna party.

You lost sight of Seungmin as you were being englufed by the huge crowd, someone accidentally pushed you and caused you to trip, and because you never wear heels in everyday basis, you fell. You grabbed your ankle and you were sure that a bruise will form tomorrow.

Seungmin saw you on the ground and came running towards you, "y/n! What happened?! Are you okay?!" "I'm fine Minnie, I just fell," he helped you get up but it was too painful so he carried you bridal style and went back inside the house. As he was carrying you, you took a moment to appreciate his face.

"You could take a picture if you like," he teased, and you quickly diverted your gaze, feeling embarrassed, "well, it's not my fault you're so good to look at," he chuckled at your cuteness and dropped you gently when you arrived at your destination.

You were at Chan's balcony, far from the crowd and the loud music, it was perfect. The view there was also amazing, with the moon shining so bright and your boyfriend massaging your sore ankle, you loved every second of it.

You stayed there in comfortable silence, enjoying your quiet time together.

"Hey y/n?", you looked at your boyfriend who stopped soothing the pain and was staring intently at you. You melted at his gaze but you mustered enough strength to release a small 'hmm' in response.

"I-I think I love you," you couldn't help the smile that was forming on your face. How can your boyfriend be so cute when he's confessing his love for you. You removed your feet from his touch and leaned over towards him.

"Minnie, there are three things I love most; strawberries, books, and you, my dandy boy."

You closed the gap between you and Seungmin, and at that moment, nothing else mattered but you and the thief you willingly gave your heart to.

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whitherliliesbloom · 4 years

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it’s not even october!

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #20 (free write) - shiver ]

[ wol & ryne ] ★ [ 1,779 words ] ★ [ highschool / modern au ]

ryne, illya and mentions of alphinaud, alisaie, gaia, aymeric and laurelis who belongs to @ancientechos and kirishimi who belongs to @windup-dragoon.

alisaie wants to make sure every member among her group of friends visits her class’ haunted maze at least once - even the one who doesn’t do well with horror films.

“Please please please, Illya! You have to go with me! I-I don’t have anyone else to ask at this point!”

It’s not uncommon to find Ryne tailing her considerably shorter schoolmate with glasses around, nor would it be the first or last time she’s ever had to beg a favor for Illya.. but the desperation in Ryne’s voice would give unknowing casual observers the impression that what she was asking of Illya was something of a matter between life and death.

“Ryne.. if you’re that scared, why would you even want to go?”

“You heard Alisaie, right?? She worked really really hard on her class attraction.. She’ll be mad if we don’t pay it a visit at least once!”

The lalafell has serious doubts Alisaie would be so petty as to hold a grudge on her friends for not visiting her attraction... or maybe she would, but it certainly wouldn’t last long. Unsurprisingly however, of all people to take Alisaie’s threats seriously, it’d be the largely gullible, far too kind-hearted Ryne... who also happened to be one of the most faint-hearted of their clique, alongside a certain student council president that is.

Ryne was bubbly, outgoing, and popular with her peers to boot, not unlike Laurelis. But unlike the pink haired miqo’te, she doesn’t do well with any sort of scary attractions, horror films and of course, has never set foot inside a haunted house in her life.

It’s not likely that this haunted maze attraction put together by a bunch of highschoolers would be quite as elaborate or scary as actual haunted houses - ones that she hears Alisaie and Gaia frequent during the annual scare festival held in the Black Shroud.. but it’d be insensitive to tell Sailor-Moon loving, plush hugging and sunlight loving Ryne that she has no reason to be as frightened as she is, not when Illya herself has no idea what to expect from the haunted maze.

“W-what about Gaia? I’m sure she’d be better company than me..”

“She’s busy helping her class.. I asked Tataru and Kirishimi too! But Tataru is also helping her class’ maid cafe.. and Kirishimi says she’s busy too!”

Figures.. and it just so happens that Illya was the only one on her shift break. Her class, who had decided on opening a little carnival game esque stall, had assigned her on a half hour break during this period where there weren’t quite as many people walking about in the morning. The crowds were certain to pick up later, especially in the afternoon when the festival would be open to the public.

Illya doesn’t even think to suggest her boyfriend. He’d be far more hesitant on visiting the haunted maze than Ryne.. and he’s likely busy with his council duties anyway.

“O-okay, okay. I’ll go with you.” The lalafell droops her shoulder in defeat, and Ryne’s face practically lights up with relief.

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

“Welcome, welcome. Entry for two, I presume?”

A familiar sultry voice greets them outside the classroom, which has been thoroughly decorated by fake cobwebs, pumpkin and skeleton stickers as well as an array of other equally spooky props littering the little booth that stood right outside the entrance.

The windows and doors have been covered with black drapes, vandalized well with splashes of paint that would sell as convincing blood to all but the particular observant eye.

“U-um.. Yes.” Illya isn’t typically the one to lead the way while hanging with friends, nor is she the type to speak for anyone’s behalf. But she thinks it better with how her friend was already huddled behind her, shivering slightly. “They assigned you to collect tickets, Aymeric?”

He dramatically grabs his cape and wraps it around him, and she could just barely catch a glimpse of fake fangs beneath his lips as he smiles.

“Yes.. I’d have been happy playing a role within the attraction itself.. But my classmates said something about my face attracting more ladies.”

Oh, of course.

With a slight tilt of her head, Illya tears off two of her tickets from her booklet and hands it to the taller elezen, who gives a elegant bow before opening the door to the classroom.

It’s pitched black, and the path ahead is obscured by yet more black drapes. From beneath the cloth however, light fog seeps out and causes Ryne behind her to squeak. They went as far as to buy a fog machine?

“Then, I bid you welcome.. to your doom.” Aymeric’s voice greets them menacingly, though he is quick to look up at the pair with a gentler smile. “Please take one of the lanterns near the entrance before proceeding.”

Illya doesn’t consider herself to be particularly courageous or fond of horror flicks herself, especially not on Alisaie’s level. But she’s watched enough films and visited enough haunted houses (dragged by Alisaie’s insistence, of course) to know that she’s not nearly as jittery about ghosts and the like compared to Ryne. She’s been jumped by professional actors in full elaborate costumes.. seen more fake blood and guts then she’d have liked to admit.. an amateurly put together haunted maze shouldn’t prove too difficult by comparison.

But she finds Ryne’s nervousness infecting her, and the gardening club president gulps before daring herself to push past the black drapes and step inside the room.

As Aymeric had instructed, a box of fake plastic lanterns had been placed on the ground next to an equally plastic looking skull, and Illya picks one up before turning to look back at Ryne, whose complexion had already turned as white as a sheet.

The door slams shut behind them, and the pair nearly jump out of their skin.

“W-why is there even a haunted maze??? It’s not even October...” Perhaps desperate for some form of conversation to keep her mind off their treacherous journey ahead, Ryne asks as she huddles closer to Illya.. though their height difference makes it rather hard for her friend to provide any sort of physical protection or barrier for her, it beats going at it alone.

“Well.. haunted mazes are typically a staple in school festivals.”

Illya finally walks ahead, much to Ryne’s dismay, and pushes past the first set of drapes to enter a dark corridor with a pile of skeleton bones and metal bars lining either side of their path. A dungeon scene, it would seem like, filled with the corpses of those who had been sent away here to die.

The girls walk forward at a brisk pace, passing about halfway through the dungeon when the lantern in Illya’s hand begins to flicker.

“A-ah!! No! The lantern is haunted too!”

“I-I think it’s just the battery-”

“Ooooh... everything is out to get us... Illya, I’m scared...”

Out of the kindness of her heart, and consideration for her already thoroughly frightened friend, Illya picks up her pace and begins to walk through to the next area.

Fake metal chains covered in blood hung from the ceiling, and the fog they’d seen from earlier returns, though this time thick enough to actually obscure the path. It gives even Illya some pause, who thinks it better not to mention the ominous whisper she hears playing from some kind of speaker behind them to Ryne.

Their pace slows from the fog and the chains that threatened to strike them in the face should they move too quickly, and just as the lantern in Illya’s hand flickers once more...

“AHHHH!”

Their first screams within the maze, raised in pitch as a bloody corpse jumps from behind a curtain to startle them, before quickly retreating into their hiding spot, satisfied at the scare.

“T-that was... that was so awful!!” Ryne nearly sobs into her hands, while Illya takes a deep breath and a huff, before recollecting herself enough to glance back at the obscured curtain with a raise of an eyebrow.

She doesn’t recognize that student.. which means that she’s still somewhere deeper in this maze.

“Let’s keep going, Ryne.”

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

The haunted maze was no bigger than the size of a classroom, despite the illusion of being far longer due to the winding paths and darkened halls.

This class certainly spared no expanse when it came to making the maze as immersive as they could, and though it hardly matched up to the elaborate attractions of Scare Festival, Illya was still impressed enough with their effort to admit.. she can understand why Alisaie would be so insistent on her friends coming to visit this attraction.

But she still can’t help but shake the feeling that there was another reason.. something far more sinister, darker.. more malicious than the pure intention of showing off her hard work.

“A-are we at the end yet???” Ryne’s voice is thin, as if she’d been screaming for an entire day now, and she looks about as ready to be done with the place as Illya herself is.

“We should be. By my estimation, this should be the last hallway.”

The two girls turn the corner, putting past the library of giant spiders and ghosts behind them only to find a giant coffin ahead of them, bathed in saturated red spot light and a dark red carpet leading up to it. It took even a moment for Illya to realize it was simply made of cardboard.. the spray paint and detailing of the outline of the box coupled with the lighting certainly sold the illusion of it being a real coffin well.

It was the only thing standing in between them and the exit, their last obstacle.

But before they could rush their way past the coffin, a voice spoke out.

“So.. you’ve survived this far.”

The coffin door opens, and from within, more fog spills out. A spiked boot takes a step out, and just barely, they catch a glimpse of a bloody clawed hand grasping at the door of the coffin.

“But don’t count on your luck.. You only survived this far because I allowed you to. Now...”

The coffin door slams open, and the red spotlight shines upon a suited demon, who lets out a wicked laugh before charging towards the girls.

“I SHALL DEVOUR YOU BOTH!!”

“....Alisaie?”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

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

come to our attraction COWARDS 😈 @angelosxx tweeted:

So my class had to shut down our haunted house cause Ryne collapsed on the floor and wouldn’t let go of Illya or open her eyes 😅

- stop giving me shit bout my lipstick @gaiacore replied:

....for real?

- cosplaycon2020hype!! 💫 💛 @ryneoflight replied:

you guys made it way too scary!! it’s not my fault!! 😭 😭 😭

-That Kiri Dumbass @betterthanestinien replied:

Oh damn wouldn’t liked to visit lol

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #ryne #illya skawi #alisaie leveilleur #alisaie #kiwisffxivwrite2020 #fanfic #mine #this was a process #i'm so far behind on reading people's fanfics because i barely have the motivation or time to even write my own im sorry

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stanskzseungmin · 5 years

Text

HHJ ~ Tragic Fairytale

Inspired by a dying relationship I tried to make work

Also not proofread...or beta read

Today WE DIE LIKE MEN.

(Also I can't find the original owner of this gif help)

Genre: Angst

Soulmate! AU

Prompt used:

Forbidden (Angst): I will write about my character longing for something they can never have.

You and Hyunjin had always been close.

You were quite literally fetus friends. Both your moms had a long lasting friendship dating back to middle school. So its no surprise that you and Hyunjin grew up together.

You had a rare gift. Everyone has a soulmate with their names tattooed intricately on their wrist. However, they can not see the names. You could.

And on your wrist, delicately tattooed in white cursive, Hwang Hyunjin.

On his, Y/N.

However, there is some interference from the universe. You can not physically tell people who their soulmate was and you can not drop any hints as well. You can however, change the soulmate name on someone else’s wrist.

You and Hyunjin were still as close as ever when you both entered high school.

However, puberty hit Hyunjin well. He grew considerably taller and his features got more eye appealing and refined. As his visuals got more and more attractive, his popularity soared. Of course this means Hyunjin will get swept away by people and will get dragged into cliques; thus, Hyunjin and you never really hung out as much during school hours.

You both were still close, fortunately.

You both walk home together and would often crash at each other’s places to do homework and hang out until nightfall since you both lived a few houses apart.

“Hey can you do me a favor?” hyunjin asked out of nowhere.

“Hmm?” you hummed in response with your eyes still glued to your homework.

“There’s this girl I really like,” Hyunjin started.

He broke your heart that night.

Hyunjin asked if you could change his soulmate name to hers. You loved him. You really do, so you did.

That night you delicately write her name on Hyunjin’s wrist and watch your own fade away. Overtime, you would watch Hyunjin’s name fade from your wrist.

You watch Hyunjin fall more hopelessly in love with his crush. You watch him smile and laugh at her every word. You watched how his eyes would turn into small crescents and how his nose crinkles every time he let out a genuine smile or laugh.

You feel your pain subside.

It was unnerving at first, losing everything about Hyunjin.

From once you felt butterflies with every interaction with hyunjin to pain and heartbreak and finally

to nothing.

You were scared. Many thoughts were running through your mind as different scenarios formed, each one worse than the last.

You told yourself. If Hyunjin was happy, then so were you.

But now, there was nothing.

You sat on a bench at the front entrance waiting for hyunjin as always. He was late, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. It was unnerving how little you felt for Hyunjin now in such a short amount of time.

Since you couldn't be bothered to care, then why should you wait?

You gathered your things as you slung your backpack over your shoulder. You stood from your spot and turned to leave.

“Hey!” Hyunjin called out to you.

you turned to face him.

“Hyunjin,” you merely stated. You flinched inwardly hearing you cold monotone voice.

Hyunjin visably flinched at your tone.

“I-I thought you were going to wait for me?” he breathed out with an awkward smile.

You shrugged as you turned to leave. Hyunjin deadpanned momentarily as he lightly jogged to catch up with you. He easily caught up to you with his long legs and slowed to match your pace.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you responded quickly.

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not,” you quipped.

“You’re not?” Hyunjin exasperated stepping in front of your path. “If you’re not, then why are you being so distant?”

“I have no reason to speak with you,” you merely responded attempting to walk past him.

He sidestepped to block your advances.

“Do you really need a reason?” his tone was stern yet offended.

“Yes.”

“What? Why?” Hyunjin gasped out as he felt a pang of pain in his chest. “We’re best friends.”

“Were,” you corrected as you deadpanned at him.

Hyunjin’s face softened to one of hurt and confusion. His eyes held pain as it became glossy with tears.

“Y/N,” he choked out. “Y/N please. What did I do?”

“Nothing,” your eyes trailed off to the side in disinterest.

“Then why?” Hyunjin’s voice cracked slightly.

“You didn’t do anything,” you clarified. “I did.”

You lifted up your wrist and pointed at the flesh knowing full well Hyunjin couldn’t see the name inked there by fate.

“Did you do something to your name?” Hyunjin asked worryingly.

You didn't respond. You gently grabbed at his wrist gently rotating it towards his view and pointed at the flesh there. Hyunjin’s mouth gaped open in confusion. In his moment of confusion, you took your opportunity to walk past him.

“Wait! What does this have to do- I’m sorry if I made you do this” Hyunjin rushed forward grabbing your wrist.

You turned to look at him.

“But it doesn't matter right? I’m still your best friend?” Hyunjin chuckled nervously.

Anxiety crawled up Hyunjin’s chest as he wondered what did he do to lose his best friend, his rock, his partner in crime.

“I don't have a name,” you clarified.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in horror.

If a person loses the soulmate name, not only do they lose their soulmate, they also lose their soul unless anothename can be imprinted.

“No no no no,” Hyunjin panics as his hands reach for your shoulders gripping it lightly. “W-why? What happened?”

“I changed yours,” you stated.

“B-but, how does this-” Hyunjin choked finally putting the pieces together.

Hyunjin shook his head repeatedly whispering “No” to himself. Tears were streaming down his face not wanting to believe the answer he was presented with.

“You can write a name on your wrist, right?” Hyunjin lifted up your wrist to his lips and kissed the soft flesh lightly. “Like you did to mine?”

“I can’t change my own,” you finalized,

Hyunjin sobbed, realization finally hitting him from what he has done.

“Please,” he choked out. “Please tell me it’s not me.”

Hyunjin’s heart constricted painfully as it felt as if he was suffocating.

“Please,” he repeated weeping. “Please say it’s not me.”

“It’s not.” Hyunjin looked up at you with hope glimmering in his eyes. “Not anymore.”

Hyunjin felt as if his entire world has fallen apart.

Hyunjin fell to his knees on the sidewalk crying like s fool. You stood there momentarily staring at him before turning to leave.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Hyunjin chanted with more pain laced in each and every word.

Hyunjin grabbed pathetically at your legs in an attempt to stop you from leaving him only for you to easily walk out of his grip.

“Please,” he whispered. “I need you.”

His words fell to death ears.

You didn’t show up to class the next day.

Hyunjin sat at your desk with a book all about soulmates on his lap as he awaited your arrival.

Hyunjin can hear the whispers around him, but Hyunjin didn't care. his eyes were glossed over and they were red and extremely puffy. on his cheeks were dried tears as he sniffled often to stop the snot from running.

By the end of the day, he watched as his world became broken beyond all repair.

Those with the ability to rewrite the soulmate tattoos can only merely change the appearance of the name to spur the change. The rest is up to the “client.” For the change to be solidified and recognized by the universe, they would have to fall in love and have the love be reciprocated.

However, since the name has been changed, the other half will have their soulmate tattoo fade and disappear. If a new soulmate can not be registered and mated again to another soul, then their souls would disappear forever.

Your mom called Hyunjin in a frantic after school. Hyunjin rushed over to your house with his legs taking him there as fast as they could. His lungs burned and his legs ached as he proceeded with his full sprint.

Hyunjin couldn't remember much of that day.

He remembered bursting through the door of your room.

He remember your mom sobbing hopelessly.

He remembered embracing your soulless body sobbing and apologizing profusely.

He remembered blacking out on your bed with you in his arms.

This became routine for him: wake up, go to school, go to your house afterwards, read you the lecture notes so you wouldn't fall too far behind, occasionally bringing you your favorite snacks and hopefully pressing the snack item against your lips until your body’s mechanical skills kick in and take the food item, finish homework, take care of you, go home, repeat.

You sat upright on your bed in a slight slouched position. Your half lidded eyes faded to a dull grey color void of any emotion. Your cheeks grew paler by the day. You were no longer responsive, never flinching, never feeling, forever broken. all because of him.

It was all his fault.

Hyunjin’s heart broke more each and every day.

Hyunjin can't let you go. Not now. Not ever. In fear of letting you down once last time.

Your mom was thankful for hyunjin constantly taking care of you while she was at work.

After high school, Hyunjin moved into an apartment with you. He had a simple cafe job for flexible work hours.

You both were lying on the same bed. Hyunjin figured it shouldn't really matter since you both shared beds every time you crashed at each other’s places too lazy to go home. Hyunjin was laying his head over your chest. your heart was beating slow and steady like a metronome. Hyunjin finds some comfort in your heartbeat because it serves as a reminder that you're still alive. hyunjin lifted up his wrist into view, the name of his dumb crush was brilliantly shown in black ink.

The soulmate name will appear before both soulmates if they were to fall in love with each other, the names would be presented in brilliant white ink for all to see as proof of their love. The other case of appearance is when their soulmate dies resulting in the name presented in black.

You were Hyunjin’s soulmate, but he had you change it to his crush. The name served as reminder of Hyunjin’s greatest mistake with it dyed a brilliant black to signify your death. You weren’t dead per se, you were still living and breathing but you were an empty shell void of a soul.

The sound of Hyunjin’s alarm blasted deafeningly loud, but Hyunjin didn't want to go about his day. However, he needed money for rent.

After the daily necessities, Hyunjin sat you opposite of him and cooked up a simple noodle soup. Hyunjin decantently fed you blowing each spoonful generously and bringing the spoon to your lips. Eventually you body would kick in and accept the spoon into your mouth to chew briefly and swallowing.

After breakfast, Hyunjin would slowly walk you to the living room couch in front of the tv. He made sure to keep everything within arms reach: the tv remote, your phone, a sandwich on a plate and a glass of water incase you get hungry. He would place the items near the edge of the table and push it closer to you.

Afterwards, each and everyday without fail, Hyunjin would cup your face into his hands. He would delicately kiss your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your chin, your temples, just anywhere before finishing on your lips. His lips would mold softly into your unmoving ones pouring all of his emotions, his pain, his regret and mainly his love for you, into that final kiss. He held onto the small hope that true love’s kiss would prevail. You both were soulmates afterall.

But life isn't a fairytale.

Every single day was the same. Hyunjin would return home after work to see you in the same position where he left you. The food and water were left untouched. Your phone and the remote were unmoved. It would most definitely collect dust if left long enough.

Hyunjin would push the table back far enough for him to situate himself on the floor in front of you. Hyunjin would position your hand palm side up and rest his cheek there with his arms loosely wrapped around your legs. Hyunjin would sometimes place the plate on your lap and with his left hand he would hold the sandwich to your lips. Sometimes your body will allow consumption but it often doesn’t.

The pain Hyunjin feels day by day doesn't get easier. The ache in his chest was forever present as he felt himself suffocate more and more everyday. Some days the pain would get too unbearable and it feels as if all the weight in the world was on his chest depriving him of oxygen. his heart would beat loudly in his ears as he gasped and sobbed as the panic from a mental breakdown wracked his body.

Today was that day.

Hyunjin passed out with his tear stained cheek resting delicately on your hand, the sandwich left forgotten on the plate on your lap.

Hyunjin was living through punishment for his sins. Some days he wondered if he was punished enough and the universe would recognize his repent and offer forgiveness, but Hyunjin knew he doesnt deserve it.

However, the universe had their own plans.

Hope.

Hyunjin didn't know how long he was passed out for. When we awoke, the room was dark. outside the window was the star lit night sky. You were still seated in the same position. You were upright with a slight slouch, your arms limp on either side of your body, your head was tilted downward with half lidded dull grey eyes as your chest steadily rose and fell.

Hyunjin nuzzled into your hand softly yearning for your touch. Hyunjin let out a small huff and satup running his hand through his hair and rubbing his puffy face.

His eyes gazed over the sandwich in your lap. He was sure it wasn't there before. It’s small and barely noticeable, but it was most definitely a bite.

Hyunjin didn't hesitate. Day by day, he recreated the same conditions as that day. Hyunjin would sit there for hours even until the morning light peeked over the horizon.

It has been two weeks since then. Hyunjin was beginning to lose sight if that hope.

But another hope glimmered one day when Hyunjin returned from work. Hyunjin briefly planted a kiss on your temple before heading straight to the shower because he accidentally spilled coffee on himself. He has failed to notice a singular bite in the sandwich.

Hyunjin left the shower drying his hair with a towel. The towel obstructed his view as he made his way over to you. He swung his towel over his neck just to meet eye to eye with your dull gray ones. Your head was turned towards him. Hyunjin’s eyes were wide and blown out. His heart started to beat rapidly.

“Y/N?” he breathed out walking to you slowly. Your head turned slowly following his every movement.

Hyunjin delicately grasped your hands in his as he kneeled before you.

"Y/N?" Hyunjin sobbed out quietly.

You didn't answer, you merely stared deeply in his eyes and didn't make any sudden movement or reaction. Hyunjin can feel you staring deep into his soul with your dull gray eyes. You were difficult to read. Your eyes showed no emotion whatsoever.

Hyunjin wanted to speak to you but he felt his words latch onto his throat as his chest ached horribly with heartbreak. He desperately wanted to tell you his feelings but he was choking in his sobs.

He wanted to. He needed to.

Because what if this was the last Hyunjin would see of you before you become forever unmoving once more.

Ugly sobs erupted from Hyunjin as he tried to choke out his words. Tears were flowing down his cheeks in neverending streams and snot dribbled down from his nostrils.

"Im s-sorry," Hyunjin forced out. His voice weak, broken and breathless.

"I’m so sorry," he choked out once more with more structure and support.

"I'm so fucking sorry," Hyunjin sobbed, his voice accidentally raised with raw emotion as his hands gripped yours tightly.

Hyunjin coughed and wheezed as the pain in his chest became increasingly more unbearable. Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours as his entire body shook with sobs.

"I love you," Hyunjin whispered out. "I love you so fucking much."

Hyunjin desperately looked into your eyes for any type of emotional response. He didn't care if it was rage, anger, or disappointment. He just needed anything.

But he never got it.

Hyunjin skipped work the next day calling in sick. He opted with staying in bed with you held securely in his arms.

Hyunjins phone vibrated softly against the night stand, but it fell to dead ears. Hyunjin know it was Jisung that was blowing up his phone. The two were best friends throughout high school and even ended up working at the same cafe. Jisung tended to nag Hyunjin a lot due to him looking more and more dead each day. Annoyed with the constant vibrations, Hyunjin quickly grabbed his phone and set it to do not disturb. The last message he saw was "I heard you called in sick. Do you need me to come over later?

Hyunjin didn't answer and tossed the phone over his shoulder missing the night stand and fell with a soft thud on the floor.

Once again Hyunjin rested his head on your chest with his arms wrapped securely around your body.

The soft metronomic heartbeat that once kept him sane with the knowledge that you were still here alive and well now caused anxiety to crawl up his chest.

He was so close. He was so fucking close. But you went back to your soulless state. No eye contact. No head following his every movement.

Hyunjin felt as if he lost you all over again. Pain ripped through his chest as it got harder and harder to breathe. Hyunjin felt as if metal barbed wire was wrapped around his heart and lungs and is slowly getting tighter. Hyunjin felt the sobs wrack through his body again as his mental state deteriorated.

Hyunjin would then make another fatal mistake.

Hyunjins body would shoot up as he straddled your waist. Hyunjin huffed and sniffled as tears flood his vision. Hyunjin felt as if he was suffocating, he wanted you to feel the same.

In his fit of madness, Hyunjin pressed a pillow onto your face. He was desperately wanting you to feel just anything.

Hyunjin froze when he heard a faint voice yelling at him at the back of his mind. At first Hyunjin couldn't tell whose voice it was but he quickly realized it was his own voices screaming at him to stop.

Hyunjins voice hitched as he rejoined reality. Horror bubbled within him once he realized what he's done. Hyunjin very quickly tossed aside the pillow and he's met with your blown out eyes and your mouth open in a silent scream.

"N-no," Hyunjin choked out.

"No no. Y/N, I'm so sorry."

Hyunjins hands shook as his fingers ghosted over your cheeks afraid to. reak you even further.

"Y/N?" His voice cracked "Y/N please…"

Hyunjin weeped as he delicately cupped your face. Hesitantly, he leaned down pressing his ear against your chest.

Hyunjin weeped.

The metronomic heartbeat is stilled to a stop as your chest remained unmoving.

Hyunjin snapped.

With loud wailing and sobbing, Hyunjin began grabbing at everything. He ripped off the curtains, the metal rod clanged loudly against the floor. With loud ugly screams, he knocked over the drawers and closet. His hand reached for the picture that stood on the nightstand. The photo captured both your smiling faces as you completed each others hand heart. You both had taken that selfie with your polaroid on the first day of high school. Before you lost your soul. Before Hyunjin Getting that stupid crush. Before everything fell apart.

With a loud sob, he tossed it towards the wall. The force of the throw had Hyunjin’s arm aching in pain as the frame and glass broke and shattered against the wall.

Hyunjin kicked his discarded phone as it slid and bounced into another wall. The phone illuminated the message.

HJS: Hey my shift ended. I’m going to come over to see how you're doing.

Jisung stood outside Hyunjins door with an americano and a croissant that he brought over.

"Yah! Hyunjin! You better open up," Jisung called out knocking on the door harshly.

No answer.

"If you are not opening up, I'm coming in!"

No answer.

"Fine by me."

Jisung bent down to grab the spare key that hyunjin hid under his welcome mat.

Jisung at first didn't notice anything strange when he entered the apartment.

"Hyunjin?" Jisung called out closing the door behind him.

Everything looked clean. There were dirty dishes in the sink but other than that, everything looked fine. Jisung set down Hyunjin’s drink and croissant on the kitchen table. He made his way over to Hyunjin's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar.

"Oh my god!" Jisung exclaimed loudly. Backing up quickly tripping over his own feet. Jising landed ungracefully on His bottom with his eyes blown out in shock and horror.

"Oh my fucking god," Jisung stammered. "Hyunjin, what the fuck did you do?"

The room was messy with things thrown all around with many of them broken and shattered.

Jisung stood in horror upon sight of his best friend swinging softly back and forth, arms limp at his sides, his eyes were hooded with tear stained cheeks, his mouth parted slightly with drool dribbling out hanging on a noose tied to a ceiling fan.

Life wasn't a fairytale.

Soulmates was supposed to be a beautiful story, but for Hwang Hyunjin and Y/N,

life was a tragedy.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz #stray kids angst #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin

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jockrightsnow · 4 years

Note

1, 4, 20 for the the fic asks :~)

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

i promised myself i would write for different pairings because i think it’d let me do fun/different things and then i decided to instead say fuck your promises to yourself and write Minnesota with Brock, but the time where petey threatened to drive to minnesota to get brock to sign. i have probably 6,000 usable words of it and i like many of them. i honestly don’t know where it’s going Emotionally Speaking. i would prefer it be less introspective because i think i’ve done enough of that for now but i also like doing it and i don’t know why i would do things i don’t want to do when it’s fanfic. it’s shocking to me this does not exist, as it is literally A Fanfiction Premise and therefore feels like low-hanging fruit (unless it does exist). there’s no dialogue of which to speak which is a problem i need to fix inherent to the overly-introspective nature of it currently.

and then i also thought what if i write fic about canucks wags trying to incorporate petey into their clique due to various ~misunderstandings but it’s so stupid rn and likely will need to be scrapped as it exists rn. conceptually, i think it’s cute and will turn into something cute. i am torn about when and how to build the relationship in that context and so keep doubling back on whether to let them fuck early or not.

these are classic “write the fanfic you wish to see in the world” projects.

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

this made me try to rescroll thru the height of the waves but i was in full manic breakdown mode when i wrote it and so it’s making me itchy to do. but i do like this snippet: “Still, it somehow also feels like maybe no one has ever been here except for Elias and Brock, that maybe this is a cubic area of space where he can be the first-ever person to feel this way. It always feels that way to Elias, a little, but he talks himself out of it.” this is not like Advanced Writing, but it feels true to me in a way my writing does not often feel. being in love is a selfish thing--at least, it always has been to me, and that’s not always bad. i think it’s sweet to know you’re being ridiculous and let yourself feel it anyway, i think it’s sweet to feel so full of things it feels impossible that other people could understand it, i think it’s sweet to feel like the only person who might understand the particularities of the way you feel about someone is the person about whom you Feel deeply. like. it’s unhinged to me a concept like love exists sometimes and the only people who have ever seemed to Get it in exactly the same way have been people i have fallen in love with, but you can’t talk about it until you kind of know you’re in mutual love, so the pining stage is lonely and unlonely all at once.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

i already said some of this but there’s always plenty of stupid shit to discuss. let’s see: oh, in the dark of any town as a title for the ghost fic was entirely a joke misdirect with only myself because maggie rogers was on nolan patrick’s spotify rewind and i thought it was so deeply funny at the time (4 am) to find a name off of heard it in a past life because it’s a fucking ghost story and i was like “i resolutely refuse to make this fic end with a ghost coming back to life, it is not something i would do.” so i chose a lyric from “back in my body” because i was like lol i’m not going to put him back in his body. this was hilarious to me at the time and i was hoping some people would think it was meaningful and get snookered but i was not cruel enough to leave in the substantial textual misdirection i did have in the “first draft.” it was important to me to have in-universe consistency w/ the ghost Lore but i wish i had integrated it in a more subtle and mysterious way because then the Deleted misdirection would’ve felt more fun.

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jimlingss · 6 years

Text

The Truth Between Us | 03

[!!] Co-written with @gukyi

⇒ Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 [Finale] || epilogue

⇒ summary: a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

⇒ enemies to lovers au with various other au’s thrown in there

⇒ word count: 15.6k

⇒ genre: fluff, angst, drama

⇒ warnings: uhh...teeth-rooting fluff and a ‘little’ stabbing angst. very little.

⇒ a/n: part three woo-hoo!! As usual, please hit @gukyi up and shower her with that praise. the first portion of this chapter is honestly all on her and i bow down to her as the master of that au. anyways, please enjoy this chapter!! it gets a lot more intense from here on out!!!

Color fades in and out, vivid hues and vibrant shades sucked away like a vacuum, reverting a children’s coloring book into its previous unmarred state. And in the instant that a blinding brightness sears into the back of your eyeballs, the world slams into you once more.

『The universe has formed.』

Matter weaves together, buildings and forests created, growing underneath the white sky that ripples to a baby blue. Pigments and stains rush to fill objects, assembling right in front of your irises. But as castle walls and towers begin to surround your body, you know there’s something different in this place.

The tingling in your fingertips tells you so.

“Wake up, Y/N.” Someone’s shaking you and immediately, you jolt awake, eyes opening towards an intricate canopy and long hair prickling at your nose. “You’re going to be late for breakfast.”

Your friend giggles, moving away to sit at the vanity mirror and you slowly rise from the comfortable bed, hair in a disarray and eyes weary. “What the—” But you’ve been through this enough times and you clear your throat, scanning the premise. “Where are we?”

It’s a circular room that’s relatively spacious. Ten beds follow the round walls, each of them obviously belonging to a specific person with the way it's decorated. There’s a broomstick by one, royal blue bed sheets spread on another, and you blink hard when you catch the inside of a poster moving. But your attention is stolen away by a rattling trunk to the bed next to you.

“What do you mean ‘where are we’?” She frowns, turning around with her rosy powder cushion still pressed against her cheek.

You recognize the female as Irene and while last time, she had been shaking in front of the conference room under your stare, this time she’s more at eased and relaxed. It wasn’t uncommon for you to use similar characters and celebrities in the little stories you used to write.

“I...uhh..” Your vision strays off to an owl sleeping by a wooden stand nearby, an oozing vial on someone’s nightstand but more importantly, by the wooden stick beside you.

“Boy, your head must’ve taken a real hit yesterday after Yoongi zapped you with that aguamenti charm.”

“....Yoongi?”

“I know you guys like ‘hate each other’,” She makes air quotations with her fingers and exaggerates her voice, rolling her eyes to add onto the theatrics as well. “But like, can you not flirt in front of everyone? It makes my single-ass feel bad and you guys can be so cheesy, it’s pretty disgusting.”

“What?”

“You don’t remember?” Her face scrunches up, and she turns back, sprinting floral perfume by her neck. “Why are you making me re-tell your damn love story? Ugh. Fine, you were pretty knocked out anyways. Yesterday, we were in Charms practicing the water-making spell, and I was trying to be a good student but of course, you were giggling with Yoongi behind the class and before everyone knew it, you were drenched from head to toe. Apparently, he blasted your skull with the end of his wand, hard enough for you to fall over and hit your head on the ground.”

Although you barely have an inkling of your location or the realm you’re in, hearing the story, makes your blood boil and you scoff. Everything that transpired a few seconds ago, the little ‘confessions’ of yours retreats into the hollows of your kind. You're once again reminded as to why he's so goddamn annoying.

“Excuse me?! That doesn’t sound like a love story. Why is he such an ass?!” Even in this universe Yoongi is just as unbearable as he used to be.

“Uh-huh. You said the same thing yesterday but tell that to Yoongi.” A smirk appears on her lips, and she stares at you through her mirror, a mischievous glint in her irises. “He was the one who kept apologizing, looking like he was gonna cry, and he carried you to the infirmary...like ‘princess style’ in front of everyone. And he skipped the rest of his classes to be with you, dinner too. There was sherbert lemon pie for dessert, and he missed that shit for you. If that ain’t love, I don’t know what is.”

“And look,” she suddenly points next to you and your eyes follow, finding a cute bouquet of sunny daffodils lying on your bedside table, held together with a single red ribbon. “He even transfigured flowers for you as an apology. It’s so romantic, it’s disgusting.”

Your mouth draws open but before you can retort or your tongue can stumble out any incoherent words, she beats you to the punch with a scoff of her own, “Enemies, my ass.”

“W-Where is he?”

It’s all that you manage to utter from your frozen lips and her smirk grows. “Your lover boy? Probably in the Hufflepuff common room. Why?”

Before she can get another word out, you’re darting out of bed, scrambling to put on the right uniform over your shabby t-shirt and pajama shorts. Hopefully, you remember the films well enough to figure out what the uniforms are supposed to look like. There’s not even enough time to ogle at the world around you—finally, a chance to be a witch, like you’ve always dreamed of!—as your slipping into your shoes, your socks two different lengths but you hardly care. Irene looks practically speechless as she watches you fumble around your desk for your various possessions, not even bothering to take off your pajamas as you change.

You start to bolt out of the dormitory, hand rubbing at your eyes in a desperate attempt to rid them of any sleep gunk, when Irene calls after you, “And you always said you didn’t care about him!”

You’re out of the common room in a flash, barely enough time to say hello to whoever is calling your name by the fire. Stumbling through the hallways, you finally allow your brain to catch up with your feet as you stare at the surrounding castle. You can hardly believe that you’re in Hogwarts, magic at the tips of your fingers, surrounded by something you had only thought was make-believe. You’re itching to try something out, say any spell your mind can muster up with the wand in your pocket, but you know that you’d better avoid that, at least until you find a certain Min Yoongi.

“Y/N!” Someone calls.

You dart your head around to find a nameless Gryffindor, a boy who looks to be only a year or so younger than you.

“Feeling any better?” He asks as he jogs up to catch you, books pressed against his chest by a single arm.

“What?” You ask before you remember the story Irene had told you. “Oh, yeah, just needed to sleep it off, I guess,” you say awkwardly.

“Good. That was a real fall,” the boy says. “I’m surprised they didn’t punish Min harder.”

“Have you seen him?” You ask, almost too excitedly, at the mention of his name. God, when did you get so damn desperate?

“Who? Min?” The boy questions, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “Not since this morning. I heard he’d been acting strange, though. Like he’d lost his memory, or something. Probably do best to ask Jung, though, since they’re pretty close.”

God, what shenanigans could Yoongi get up to now? You’re pretty sure you remember him saying something about how he never got into the Harry Potter franchise, so you can only imagine his surprise at being spontaneously thrusted into the universe.

“I’ll find him,” you say, shrugging off your concern. “Gotta beat him up for doing that to me. Thanks, though.”

“Hope he gets what he deserves!” the boy calls out to you as you rush off in the opposite direction.

There’s no time to waste as you whip yourself down corridors and through courtyards, struggling to navigate the maze-like campgrounds of the castle. You ask a few professors for directions, and they just manage to tell you which way before you’re off again. They scold you for sprinting around and you have barely half a mind to shout an apology.

Students slowly shuffle to breakfast, ghosts yawning from their naps but you dive head first into groups and cliques, ignoring the complaints and dirty looks. It’s only when you’re out of completely breath, lungs ready to shrivel up, chest heaving up and down that you notice a familiar head of black hair.

“YOONGI!”

You scream his name with the remaining air left in your raw throat and the boy darts his head over, his eyes lighting up, and he wobbles forward with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

Like you, the person approaching looks sixteen or seventeen. It reminds you of the previous High School Yoongi that was on the tennis court. But this time, his exterior is more disoriented. His dark hair is curled into a soft cloud with strands sticking upwards, round glasses on the tip of his nose and his robes hang off his shoulders in a sloppy manner. His face is tender again, chubby cheeks pinched pink, and he looks irritatingly adorable.

“Y/N?!” He grins happily and you’re caught off guard by his rare enthusiasm. “What is this place?!”

“It’s Hogwarts.” Your lips curl against your will. “You know, the world that Harry Potter is from.”

Yoongi blinks at you and then shifts to scan the surroundings. A long time ago, he called you a nerd and ‘basic’ for being a fan of the Harry Potter series. Apparently it’s too ‘mainstream’ for his liking and now, you’re preparing yourself to face more of his whining but-

“This is amazing!”

Your eyes widen. “It is?”

“Are you kidding me?! This is so fucking cool!” He leans over the open window archway, pupils lighting up at the vast valley landscapes. As he takes in the scenery, he then pulls a wooden stick from his sleeve and bounces on his toes back to you. “Look, I have a wand too! And I saw moving paintings before I got here, like the pictures move, and I even talked to them! Did you see the staircases? They move too! The architecture is so beautiful and I don’t even think you could see this kind of thing even if you travelled abroad, Y/N! Like not even New Zealand's landscapes are this gorgeous. This is the best fucking universe I’ve been to, hands down.”

There’s a pause and then uncontrollable giggles spill from your lips.

Yoongi pouts, watching you completely lose it, and he pokes your arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You wipe your eyes, smile ever growing. “You’re just a dork, that’s all.”

There’s no way possible way he can refute, so, he only lets out a half-heated, “Psh.”

As a few groups of students pass the pair of you, ghosts moving through the brick walls, the whomping willow swaying to the warm breeze, you take a moment, stepping back to gaze at your companion. The yellow and black of his tie inherently rips a gasp from your throat.

“Oh my God, you’re a Hufflepuff?”

Yoongi stares down to where you’re pointing, and he frowns. Quirking an eyebrow, he asks: “What?”

“Why are you a Hufflepuff? The hell? You should be in Slytherin or something,” you inform him pointedly, wondering if it was you that made the male lead a Hufflepuff or if this is just a practical joke pulled by the Gods that got you trapped in this universes in the first place.

Yoongi is, to put it simply, the last person you would ever think to be in Hufflepuff. Sure, he might be dedicated… and hardworking, but that’s it. And those are qualities that match every house, you swear. You can’t remember the last time you heard the Sorting Hat’s little rhyme about each of the houses, but you swear that Yoongi and Hufflepuff do not mix. Maybe, if you were being particularly generous, he could be considered loyal. After all, he’s stuck with you for so long. But he was far from patient… and kind, wasn’t he?

Upon his blank expression, having absolutely no clue to what you’re talking about, you pinch the bridge of your nose, explaining yourself, “Hogwarts has four houses that you can be sorted into. Slytherin for the cunning, Gryffindor for the brave, Hufflepuff for the kind and Ravenclaw for the intelligent. Obviously, I’m an intellectual, so, I’m in Ravenclaw. The main color of the house is blue and bronze. See?” You point to your own tie and then to his. “Apparently, you’re in Hufflepuff.”

Yoongi snorts at your incessant rambling, his lips twitching into a slight smirk. “And you’re calling me the dork.”

With one more glance at you, he spins around on his toes, black robes swishing in the air. You barely manage to catch up to his large strides. “Where are you going?”

“Exploring.”

Yoongi doesn’t ask for the ending of the story or how to escape this universe and you’re not complaining either. It’s wondrous and surreal to be in the world that you’ve read about as a child and seen through theater screens. Not to mention, this isn’t an amusement park either or a re-creation. It’s the real thing, or at least your version of it.

This story was written as a guilty pleasure like the previous one too, one that you created mindlessly in your university years. There was no way you could publish an actual novel when JK Rowling had ownership of the franchise. So, it was your little secret, filled with embarrassing fantasies of hot celebrities as your wizard classmates. Except now, you were sharing it with Yoongi.

“Is that…?”

He squints, meagerly being able to make out the blonde man approaching from a distance but by the stiffening of your body, your sharp inhale and the back of his mind ringing a bell, he knows this person is familiar.

“Oh my God.” You tug on Yoongi’s arm, and he flinches when your tone moves up to a teenage-girl screeching pitch. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

It’s motherfucking Kim Taehyung again. You feel your heart soar.

And as Yoongi scowls, you practically swoon on the spot.

“How’s my favourite Ravenclaw doing?” The older, seventh-year prefect strides up to you, throwing his arm leisurely over your shoulder and pulling you close. Yoongi swears you almost combust right then and there.

Taehyung gives you a light and playful noogie before his hand reaches up to pet your head. An incoherent string of syllables slip off your tongue, steam practically rising out of your ears. The actor, that was now a Hogwarts Gryffindor, releases you and sends a mischievous look at Yoongi.

“Min, you better not be harassing my favourite Ravenclaw. I heard what you did yesterday,” Taehyung warns with a pointed expression. It’s obvious that Yoongi and Taehyung’s relationship, whatever it may be, isn’t on the best of terms. “I better keep an eye on you, Y/N. Make sure he isn’t hurting you.”

You don’t recall writing that into the piece.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Yoongi’s eyes narrow, arm reaching out and his hand captures your wrist. Yoongi tugs you in towards him and you’re caught off guard, stumbling until your head meets his hard chest and his arm has snuck around your waist, holding you close. “I can take care of her perfectly fine.”

Taehyung cocks a brow, crossing his arms in amusement and sends a knowing look towards Yoongi, one that you can’t decipher. You’re already bewildered at Yoongi, blinking up at him and wondering why this sixteen year old Yoongi was taller than you. Maybe he hit his growth spurt quicker than Tennis Yoongi.

“Well, I’ll leave you both to your own devices. I have a Herbology assignment to submit.” Taehyung begins to walk away and you whimper, hands twitching to reach out to your all-time crush. However, you don’t get the chance, not when Yoongi takes the opportunity and smoothly interlaces your open fingers with his. “Don’t get up to any trouble, you two, or else I’ll have to write you up for detention.”

The gorgeous, glowing angel sends one wink towards your companion before he turns fully and disappears. You begin to sulk, having yet again lost the opportunity of getting an autograph from him but no sooner are you being hauled into the opposite direction.

Yoongi’s palm is still clasped around yours, his hand firm and somehow comforting. You’re too preoccupied with meeting his quick steps to question it. “W-where are we going? We have classes to go to, Yoongi! And there’s breakfast in the Great Hall—”

“Y/N.” He quirks his head over to stare into your eyes. “You know you’re not really a student here, right?” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He’s not wrong.

Soon, your footsteps are synchronized with Yoongi’s as you scour the castle together, peeking in every nook and cranny, skipping classes and running in the other direction when professors are walking past. The pair of you snicker and giggle like children, hiding behind shelves and pillars before the coast is clear, and he takes your hand once more, tugging you along.

You’ve never seen Yoongi so childish and excited before. He’s practically a kid, himself, and it makes you giddy too.

“Y/N, Y/N, look!” The two of you were in the East Wing courtyard, alone while the students were in their classes. Yoongi’s got a book he’d stolen from the library earlier under his arm, one copy of a Standard Book of Spells. He’d almost nabbed one about flowers, too, but it was absurdly heavy and not worth lugging around.

“Yoongi, it’s dangerous! Don’t—”

He looks down into his hand holding the textbook, and he flickers his other wrist in two gentle motions, letting the wood of his wand dip down slightly in the second movement. “W-Wingar…dium Levi...Leviosa…?”

Suddenly, a rock a few meters away is lifted into the air, levitating. Your jaw drops. Yoongi bursts from enthusiasm and hops up and down. “Look Y/N, look!”

“Holy shit! How did you do that?”

“Try it!”

Magic doesn’t come as easily to you as it does into Yoongi. It’s unfair since you were a fan first but no matter the different pronunciations you try or the ways you move your hand, it doesn’t work. Your frustration multiples until Yoongi sighs, walking up and grabbing hold of your wrist again.

“It’s Levi-O-sa,” Yoongi stresses, hand gripping yours tightly as he guides your want movement. “Emphasize the ‘O’ part. Not the ‘A’ part,” he instructs dutifully.

You try to ignore the way your chest shakes as Yoongi teaches you the spell, instead hoping to focus on the anger that should be bubbling up in your core from how unjust the fact is that he’s better at magic when you’re the one who even got him into this universe in the first place.

Together, Yoongi coaches you through the spell, until your voices are soft and your movements are natural as you say, hand in hand, “Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Oh my God, it’s working.”

Albeit, you’re lifting a feather instead of a goddamn rock, it’s still levitating mid-air and laughter breaks from your mouth. Yoongi matches your grin. “We should try the fire-making spell next.”

He lets go of you, moving to sit on the grassy lawn and flip through the old pages. You frown but you continue to make the feather float. “What if we accidentally set the school on fire, and we alter the story too much, and we can’t leave?”

“Relax.” His finger lines the endless sentences. “This is a grade-one book. If eleven year olds can do this, so can we.”

“But we’re not really wizards or witches, Yoongi.”

“In this world, we are.” He’s much too eager. You’re not even sure if Yoongi wants to leave this universe. But you let him have his fun, watching as he draws a flame with his wand and mutters ‘Incendio’, setting leaves into an orange inferno. Yes...for once, you let him have his fun.

That is...until he figures out how to white sparks and begins to zap you with it.

“Yoongi! Stop it!” You’re running as fast as you can while he’s hot on your tail, laughing maniacally like the evil, little bitch that he is. “This isn’t funny!”

“I’ll stop running if you stop running!”

Even if the white sparks don’t hurt you in any way, shape or form, it still freaks you out. The sparks are like mini-explosions or fireworks, and they way it crackles is loud. Not to mention, when he keeps flickering them at you, the fog makes it difficult to see and breathe.

“I swear I’m going to kill you!”

He shoots another one towards your feet. “I’d like to see you try!”

You cackle, spinning around and zapping one at his face. “Ha! Take that!”

He barely manages to dodge. “Oh, it’s on now, witch!”

“Yeah?” You stop by a tree, sticking out your tongue and mocking him. “Is it now?”

Yoongi’s preparing to launch another attack on you, maybe tackle you down onto the soft bed of grass as well. All you do is squeal and shut your eyes, preparing for another white firework eruption but-

“HEY!”

There’s a bloodcurdling shriek from the open corridor and you both, simultaneously, crane your heads around. There’s a mysterious professor with a gold pendulum hanging off his neck, robes a dark blue and hair a stark carmine. His brows are so furrowed, it almost looks like the wrinkles will permanently crease into his skin. From his age, you could probably assume they already have.

Oh God, you hope you didn’t write Professor Snape into this piece. Imagine the horror.

“What are you doing?!” He squawks and begins to march up, Yoongi taking a step back in fear. It’s unusual since he’s never really afraid of anything but completely understandable at the same time. The professor looks like he’s about to have a hernia. “Don’t you have classes to attend? I’m immediately docking forty points each off of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw because of your irresponsibility and buffoonery!”

Maybe if you were actually students here, you’d feel a little bad. From what you can gather, at least you are a well-liked individual here at Hogwarts, whereas Yoongi, not so much. You wonder what your make-believe peers would think if they found out you were the reasons their houses are in last place.

You can only grimace guiltily as the professor drones on about responsibility and ‘being mature’ and other nonsense that neither you nor Yoongi seem to care about. Even though he’s hidden his wand up his sleeve, it’s clear that he’s itching to get to try something else, cast another spell or see another magical moving object. You wonder if it’s Quidditch season yet—maybe you can take Yoongi to a game. You know he’ll enjoy it more when he’s not the one engaging in the sport. Besides, he’s always been a basketball fan—you remember him mentioning the fact offhand during one of your meetings. Quidditch is like, basically the same thing. Except on brooms. And with three balls. Two of which fly around on their own accord.

Shrugging, you hope that this universe’s you doesn’t have a penchant for mischief, because you’re about to ruin that reputation very quickly.

“Professor,” you say, voice sickeningly sweet as you interrupt his spiel, “can you tell me about Harry Potter?”

The professor seems taken aback. “Harry Potter? Why?”

“I just want to know more about him. Is it true that he survived the Killing curse?” You ask, feigning interest. You already know everything there is to know and more about The Boy Who Lived.

“Well, there’s not really much to say,” the professor says. “Four years ago, He Who Must Not Be Named tried to murder him, but he survived. We know very little about what happened to him, but I believe he is being taken care of by Muggle relatives.”

Aha! So this universe is before Harry Potter’s time. Thank God, really. You don’t know what you would have done if you had to deal with getting yourself and Yoongi out of this universe while at the same time having to fight off the forces of Lord Voldemort. There’s a limit.

“Oh, thank you Professor!” You say as though the man just cured cancer. “I had heard they were just rumors. Well, we best be off to class, goodbye!” You cry quickly before grabbing onto Yoongi’s hand and dragging him away from the professor before he can berate you for anything else. Yoongi’s cackling the entire way back to the castle, unable to stop laughing at the façade you put on in front of the teachers.

“Wow, are you sure you’re not Slytherin?” Yoongi asks, very obviously pleased with himself that he’s finally getting a grasp on the magical jargon of this realm. You have to admit, it’s kind of cute, how satisfied he looks with himself.

You purposely bump into his shoulder, a rather playful movement that has him grinning. “Please, if I was a Slytherin, with my beauty and brains, this world would be doomed. You’d never make it out alive.”

Come to think of it, there are so many goddamn dangerous things in the magical world of Harry Potter that it’s as if death waits around every corner. Suddenly, you feel much more responsibility to make sure Yoongi doesn’t trap himself in a Devil’s Snare or bump into the Whomping Willow by accident. Knowing him, of course, he absolutely would.

“We should probably stick closer to the castle,” you tell him as you begin walking down the open hallway. “Just in case we get caught. I could probably lie about something. It seems like everyone likes me in this universe,” you say happily. “Well, everyone except you.”

You poke Yoongi in the chest as you walk along, nodding hello to the ghosts that pass you by. They don’t give a shit about whether or not you’re in class, thankfully. He curls into himself adorably, like one of those pillbugs, soft smile growing on his face.

“Hey,” he says indignantly, pouting. “I like you. Everyone thinks that, at least. And I mean, I think so, too.”

“How many universes did it take?” You joke, holding out your fingers to count. “Five? Six?”

Yoongi frowns. “You can’t even remember how many universes we’ve been through?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest as you turn a corner, nearly knocking into a statue that would probably shout in surprise if you did. “Can you?” You ask as a rebuttal.

Yoongi keeps his eyes trained on the ground. “I lose track of time when I’m with you,” he mutters under his breath. It’s so quiet that you almost don’t hear him. Almost.

You pause as your mind processes the words, like it requires so much brain-power to comprehend and turn them into a thought you can coherently respond to that you need to come to a full-blown stop. Yoongi seems so distracted that he nearly keeps going, leaving you behind, but notices at the last second that you’ve strayed away.

“Did you… did you say something?” You ask, blinking, as if that’s going to help.

“Me? No, no,” Yoongi says, shrugging. Strange. You swear he did. Maybe you’re just fucking with yourself. There’s no way Yoongi would ever flirt with you. “Hey, what’s that closet over there?”

He manages to distract you easily, pointing towards a wooden door with a black sign plastered over it that reads: NO STUDENTS ALLOWED. Well, that’s practically got your names written on it. As you scurry over, you can hear a familiar monotonous voice from the room next door, and that’s when it hits. This is the Potions closet.

Oh God, if Snape catches the two of you, you’re dead meat. Maybe you can pull the Herbology card if desperate times call for desperate measures. Lord knows Sprout’s always been quite the gullible professor.

As you approach, you can clearly make out Snape berating what sounds to be a first year, if the crying on the other end of the conversation is anything to go by. Oh, classic Snape. Thank God you’re skipping all of your classes today. And for the rest of the time you’re here. Hopefully, his voice is so loud that he won’t be able to hear you and Yoongi sneaking into a closet that you will definitely get detention for being in.

“Quietus,” you cast, vaguely remembering the spell from one of the books. You point your wand at your footsteps, hoping the charm will silence them as you near the closet. “Alohomora.”

Easily, the door opens. Damn, Snape needs to work on his door locking techniques if it’s so damn simple for two students who know very little about Hogwarts to get inside. You shush Yoongi as you tug him inside by the collar, quickly shutting the door behind you and hoping that nobody saw.

“Lumos,” you say, allowing light to pierce the end of your want (and your retinas) so you can scan the shelves, glancing at anything that catches your eyes.

There are vials filled with sparkling purples, deep matte blues, bright yellows, lime greens, and everything in between. A few of them ooze and give off strange fumes, others foaming and frothy. Some of them have labels, and some of them don’t. Yoongi mimics your actions until his wand also starts to glow, excitedly peering in every nook and cranny. It seems that he doesn’t want to miss a second in a world like this.

“Don’t touch anything,” you advise Yoongi, knowing well enough that you are unfamiliar with most, if not all of these potions, and that consuming any one of them would be more than just a terrible idea. It would be straight disastrous.

“What’s Amortentia?” Yoongi asks as he plucks a small bottle from the top shelf. It’s gleams a mother-of-pearl type sheen, soft and pink, and when Yoongi removes the cap, it emits steam in the shape of spirals. “Smells good.”

“Yoongi, don’t—!” You cry out softly, but it’s too late, as Yoongi is already downing the entire bottle like a dehydrated madman and stuffing the emptied glass into his pocket for safekeeping. Your eyes widen at the sight of him as the color seems to drain right from his body for a mere few moments before returning, his lips colored a dusty rose.

“It didn’t do anything,” Yoongi says, disappointed. “I don’t feel any different.”

“God dammit, Yoongi,” you exclaim to yourself, shaking your head as you reach over to grab his hand. “Thought I told you not to touch anything.”

“You don’t understand, Y/N. It smelled amazing. I can’t—I can’t figure out what that scent was, but it was perfect. I want to take that scent and turn it into a personalized Febreze bottle, so I can have it for the rest of my life,” Yoongi says. He leans in close you to, pressing his head into the crook of your neck for a solid five seconds as you freeze up at the touch. “Come to think of it, it smells like you.”

“Me?” You ask, shocked. You push his head away instinctively, unsure how to feel at the touch. It was foreign and familiar, all at once. Yoongi seems to have that effect on you. “Why on earth would it smell like me?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi says, shrugging. “You smell like… paper. And ink. And new books. You know that new book smell, when you go to Barnes and Noble and buy a brand-new novel and you’re in the line for the cashier and you just sniff the pages because they are so crisp and untouched and perfect? That’s what you smell like.”

“You have a good nose,” you point out.

“It’s easy to distinguish,” Yoongi says in return. “But there’s something else I spell that I can’t put my figure on,” he mumbles but then shrugs it off. “What was Amortentia even supposed to do? It’s like I drank it and then nothing happened. You’re still you and I’m still me. No body-swapping, or anything. Boo.”

“I really don’t think that’s what Amortentia is supposed to do, unless it goes horribly wrong,” you say warily, eyes wide at the thought. This universe business is enough, imagine if you had to go through it trapped in Yoongi’s tiny frame! “It’s a love potion, as far as I remember.”

Yoongi looks as though he’s seen a ghost. A real one that’s meant to spook you, not like the ones that parade around Hogwarts greeting you. “A… a love potion?”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding to yourself. “Except maybe this one was just faulty, since nothing changed when you took it. I mean, who were you even supposed to fall in love with, then?”

Yoongi’s silent. Guess he doesn’t have an answer.

You grab onto his hand, directing your illuminate wand towards the door to the closet. “We should probably get out of here before Snape finds us and skins us alive,” you say, hoping classes haven’t finished yet and the hallways are clear for you to continue fooling around.

Yoongi nods, eyes glinting in the light from the spell as you shine the light close to him, just to make sure he hasn’t drifted off somewhere. The door creaks ever so slightly as you peer out, making sure the coast is clear. When there’s nobody in sight, you and Yoongi slowly tiptoe out, Yoongi’s hand held firmly in yours as you lead the two of you from the closet and hope that nobody catches you.

Once you’re down the hallway, safe and sound from any trouble, you and Yoongi make the executive decision of camping yourselves on one of the benches as you wait for whatever’s next.

“Are you sure nothing changed when you drank that potion?” You ask as you lean in close, just to make sure Yoongi’s eyes haven’t turned an ominous red, or anything. You swear, that’s the only reason you’re staring into them. Seriously.

Yoongi looks himself up and down and shakes his head. “I feel the same.”

“Huh,” you say to yourself, positively perplexed. You doubt Snape would keep a faulty love potion in his closet full of things that are strictly prohibited from students, but you can’t think of any other explanation for the lack of change in Yoongi’s behavior. Maybe potions magic didn’t work on you since you were actually a muggle. Still, that doesn’t explain your ability to cast all the charms you have. Unless…

No, you must be going crazy. There’s absolutely no way.

“What next?” Yoongi asks as he stares out into the little courtyard that rests right next to you, a single tree growing out from the ground in the center. The campus seems so quiet when you two are the only ones making noise.

“We figure out what we need to do to get home,” you say.

“Mr. Min! Miss Y/L/N!”

The unfamiliar voice of a female teacher catches the both of you off guard. It’s no McGonagall that’s approaching you. Instead, it’s the vaguely memorable face of who you believe to be the Muggle Studies teacher that’s sauntering towards both of you, hands firmly planted on her hips.

“What are you two both doing out of class?” She asks, but she doesn’t seem particularly threatening.

“We were just taking a break,” you say, truthfully. “I don’t really understand what’s happening in class right now, and I was hoping Yoongi could explain it to me.”

You sweeten your voice, batting your lashes back and forth in order to alleviate the situation. In the meanwhile, Yoongi stares at your profile and stifles back a snort. Unfortunately, however, the professor isn’t as susceptible to your cunning charms as much as the other one.

“Well, you two certainly have some chemistry,” she comments. Even the teachers are in on it? Damn, maybe you’re more popular than you thought. “I’d suggest going back to class before someone punishes the both of you. You have Defense Against the Dark Arts right now, correct?”

She knows your schedule better than the both of you, so you nod. At least you appear to have escaped any sort of punishment. You can hardly imagine how disappointed your house would be if they found out that you were the reason that you lost all of those house points, because you were traipsing around the castle with Yoongi. Irene would never let you hear the end of it.

“Well, move along then,” she says, motioning to the door across the hall. “Don’t want to see the two of you out here during class time again, understand?”

You and Yoongi firmly shake your heads, nodding like the diligent and respectful students you apparently are as you awkwardly approach the thick wooden door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Like fate would have it, you were conveniently right beside it the entire time. Hopefully nobody will think too much of two students sneaking into class halfway through it. You’ve lost enough points already.

Luckily, you and Yoongi manage to find your seats—right next to each other—without drawing too much attention to yourselves, opening your textbooks immediately and pretending as if you were there the entire time. It doesn’t look like the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—whoever they are, since you’re before Harry Potter’s time—pays very much attention to the class at all.

Sometime during the lecture, Irene whips her head around from where she’s sitting and spots the two of you. She gives you this incredulous look, like a sort of “What the fuck are you doing and where the fuck did you come from?” kind of expression, one that has you smiling guiltily in return with Min Yoongi’s head resting in the crook of your neck.

“The Patronus charm is one of the most powerful defensive spells in a wizard or witch’s arsenal. But, it is also one of the most difficult,” you catch the professor saying, paying minimal attention since you just so happen to know most of the information about it. “The corporeal Patronus takes the shape of a guardian spirit, typically an animal. They are often animals with which you share a strong bond with, whether it be physical or emotional, but the guardian’s form can also change should you experience an unwavering, eternal love of some sort.”

Just at that moment, Yoongi’s hand brushes over yours. You pay little attention to it, instead choosing to focus on the professor.

“Today, we will be practicing it, just so that you can all get a feel for the spell. I want an essay of two rolls of parchment on its uses and its history on my desk in exactly a week, though,” the professor instructs, whipping out his wand. “In order to conjure it, you must think of the happiest memory you have, one that brings you nothing but the biggest of smiles, as you say the words: Expecto Patronum.”

You hear Yoongi next to you, muttering the spell under his breath. Is he actually going to try to cast it? You recall The Order of the Phoenix—you remember how difficult it was for Harry to teach everyone how to cast it. And those were skilled wizards, too. Not just any random human, plucked off of the street. Like Yoongi.

“You will make a circular motion with your wand and say the incantation, but be careful not to point your wand at anybody, as the light that the spell emits is quite bright,” the professor warns. “Watch.”

With a simple twist of his wand, he says, “Expecto Patronum.” From the end of his wand bursts forth a simple white light before it morphs into the shape of a fox, bounding from one end of the room to the other. The students are mesmerized—and so is Yoongi—as they watch it leap around the room, a trail of white dust following it until it disintegrates into the air.

“Now, for your turn. Remember, circular motions,” the professor advises, stepping off of the platform to begin inspecting students’ techniques.

“What’s the incantation, again?” Yoongi asks as he stands up, readying himself.

“Expecto Patronum,” you repeat from memory. Prisoner of Azkaban was always your favorite book. “What memory are you using, Yoongi?”

“Uh…” Yoongi says, pausing. “When I was six. And I won my school’s spelling bee. Yeah, that’s it,” he quickly tells you.

“Born to correct other people’s spelling errors,” you joke, nudging him slightly.

What Yoongi doesn’t tell you, though, is how his happiest memory is merely from the prior universe. It’s seeing you, standing in front of him in a jumpsuit that brings out the deep color of your eyes, telling him that there’s nobody you’d rather be with than him. Even though the confession was only so that you could move onto the next universe, you didn’t really mean what you said, it is something that Yoongi will cherish for as long as he can, for as long as he knows you and more. He knows that once you are freed from these universe travels you will go back to hating each other, so he savors every moment by your side.

“How about we cast them together?” Yoongi suggests. “Just to see.”

“We are probably the least qualified sixth years to be doing this spell, just saying,” you point out as you stand up next to him, wand at the ready.

Yoongi chuckles. “I think that makes this even better.”

“Okay,” you say, breathing out, thinking of the happiest memory you can. You try and tell yourself it’s when you graduated from high school, or had a 3AM bonfire with friends during the summer of your junior year of university, but what seems to cover them all is Yoongi’s face. Memories with him are limited but overwhelmingly present, like your brain is insisting that your happiest moment has occurred with him. And that’s when you realize. Your happiest moment is right now, is every universe before this and every universe after because you don’t think you’ve ever had as much fun in your life. Maybe you’re trapped with Yoongi but that’s alright, because you can’t help the smile on your face when you see who each universe has turned him into, a little different but still the Yoongi you know so well. You’re living through your happiest moments because you are next to him every step of the way, every world you enter and every world you leave. He is your happiest memory.

Together, the two of you follow through with the movements of your wands and say, gazing at each other the entire time, “Expecto Patronum.”

Yoongi’s is the one you notice first. It materializes from a collection of white dust, sparking under the firelight of the classroom as it travels around the room, slowly forming the shape of a cat. It’s calico—you can tell from the clear markings that decorate its fur—and it meows, just for good measure before running back to Yoongi’s wand and disappearing.

And then you see yours. It’s a poodle. Of all things, a poodle, barking happily as it jumps around the room, the dust circling you and Yoongi excitedly before vanishing in front of your eyes. You and Yoongi are speechless as you stare at your wands, wondering what your patronuses mean. You can’t say you’ve ever felt connected with a poodle, of all animals.

“A cat?” Yoongi asks loudly, sort of in shock. “Why a cat? I don’t even like them.”

You scoff. “Cats are my favorite animal, alright? Back off. I mean, mine was a freaking poodle, of all things, so it’s not like you’re the only one who got snubbed.”

“I had a poodle when I was little,” Yoongi points out randomly. “His name was Holly.”

“You did?” You ask, turning to him. “I didn’t know that.”

Before Yoongi can say something else, Irene begins laughing. She bursts into giggles from her seat across the way, having forgotten entirely about the Patronus charm as she doubles over. You and Yoongi look her way, equal amounts of bewildered. The rest of your classmates have also turned to stare, their wands dropping, none of them yet able to create a patronus like you and Yoongi. Even the professor, himself, is amazed at your magical abilities.

“Are you guys serious?” She asks between laughs. “Seriously? You don’t even know?”

“Know what?” You ask, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh my God, you guys are crazy. Are you seriously that blind?” She asks like you’re missing the elephant in the room, like the answer is staring you down but you can’t even see it. “You guys wouldn’t know love even if it punched you in the face.”

Love? What’s love got to do with it? You furrow your brows in an attempt to increase your understanding, hoping to figure out why Irene looks so incredulous, why she’s acting like you and Yoongi are in a constant state of beating around the bush. The professor had said that the Patronuses are only affected when you are in an eternal love, but what does that mean for you?

Immediately, your mind drifts back to the Potions closet. The Amortentia. Yoongi drank it without experiencing any effects in return, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe the love potion wasn’t going to do anything anyway. And now, you’re standing here with Min Yoongi casting his patronus as your favorite animal, and you’re casting his, and suddenly it seems fairly obvious.

“You don’t think…?” You ask, unsure if you’re directing your question at Yoongi or at Irene.

Irene rolls her eyes. “It’s high time the two of you realized that you were in love!”

A few of your peers are snickering at the exclaimed proclamation and the professor smiles discreetly, turning away to help a few struggling students.

It’s one thing to have this feeling under your skin, this subtle awareness of the fact, and it’s another for a fictional character to blatantly spell it out for you. Now that you’re hearing it out loud, coming from someone’s mouth, it suddenly feels easier to argue against. Like it’s easier to disregard, to disprove, only because everyone’s acting as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“We’re not in love,” you say defensively.

Maybe it’s just your characters. Maybe you’re just embodying the protagonists that you had created for this universe, maybe they are the ones that are supposed to be in love and you and Yoongi are just mimicking their actions, their personalities. That would explain Yoongi’s placement in Hufflepuff. Your mind rattles as it tries to grab onto any semblance of logic, of reasoning, any explanation for the strangely romantic behavior in this universe other than your true emotions. It’s almost like you refuse to accept the end result for what it is. Like you can’t ever comprehend the idea of Yoongi actually caring for you, or vice versa.

You swear, if you were back in your own world, you’d still hate each other. It’s just the Universe Effect™.

Irene scoffs. “Yeah, I’ll believe that when You Know Who comes back.”

“Actually—” You begin.

“Just kiss him already!” Another boy calls out in exasperation. He earns a chorus of agreement.

Yoongi looks like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole, and you have to admit, you’re with him on this one.

“Min Yoongi, can you explain this?” You inquire, turning to him.

He’s silent.

It’s just this universe. It’s the magic that’s making your brain delusional, tricking you into thinking Min Yoongi, of all people, is in love with you. Sure, through each universe you’ve retained your core personalities, but maybe this world has just placed you more firmly into the shoes of the characters you created. The characters are supposed to be madly in love, not you and Yoongi. That would explain the Amortentia. And the Patronuses.

You and Yoongi aren’t in love, right?!

You grab hold of Min Yoongi’s collar, staring him dead in the eyes. Everyone around you begins to cheer, to chant, but all you can see is him. Even as the world begins to twist and turn, to morph into an indistinguishable blob of nothingness, he is the only thing your gaze rests upon.

Once more, like all the other times before, the world is ripped away from your fingertips.

Your surroundings wash away, your vision being blinded by light and your body floating like a feather in an empty abyss, just waiting to be placed in a different galaxy. The tingling sensation of magic, of a wondrous supernatural wizardry is torn from your blood and bones. But instead of feeling hollow and barren, something else has shifted inside your chest. Although you cannot forth spells or charms with the flicker of your wrist or enchant another being with syllables rolling off the tip of your tongue, you are far from feeling desolate. The magic has simply moved elsewhere.

And you only feel it when you think of Yoongi.

『The universe has formed.』

“Y/N. Wake up.” The voice is more urgent this time around, a note of panic ripping through the sweet and soft timbre. “Why are you sleeping?”

“W-what?” It’s difficult to peel back your eyelids. You haven’t felt so weary and exhausted in such a long time. It’s as if your muscles have been overly-exerted and your bones are brittle, the feeling of being famished embedded into your flesh. You are weak. You are weary.

“My wedding is tonight. Hurry.”

You sit up from your spot on the floor, having curled up into fetal position in the corner of the room. And once your rise on your trembling legs, you are met with the most gorgeous woman on the planet.

She is the same stature as you but the lady stands taller from her wealth, radiating the confidence that you do not have. Her skin is smooth and polished, hair perfectly combed back into braids that build beautifully at her crown, multiple jeweled hair pins sticking from her locks. Her lips are two daffodil petals, cheeks pinched into a roseate shade, gown made from the finest silk fabrics, red skirt imprinted with black swirls and intricate loops.

“Heo Yeonhwa…” The young lady’s name is already rolling from your tongue without a single thought.

She is one of your most memorable characters. She was the first fictional being that you ever cried for. She is someone that has always been real inside of your mind, someone who suffered her entire life and even in the end, found nothing for her future. Yet, she embodies the person you’ve always wanted to be.

Dignified. Fearless. Beautiful.

Her brow lifts from your impolite speech, directly calling her name without any sort of proper title attached to it. But she allows it to pass, pacing until she meets the murky vanity and sets herself down on the seat. “Re-do my hair. It’s hurting my scalp.”

“O-okay.”

As you approach, you catch your reflection. You are nothing but a lowly maid, face permanently dirtied and sunburnt, cheeks hollow and outline of bones visible, hair matted down and tucked into a low ponytail. Your clothes are of dull colors, browns and soiled whites. You are nothing in this world. And that makes it all the much harder to accept the ending to this story.

An ending that you know like the back of your hand.

With gentle fingers, you carefully undo the pins and clips, letting her braids fall before you unwrap them. Against your will, your hands begin to tremble as you brush her soft, long hair. Guilt and remorse begins to envelop your being. Facing your own character makes you wonder why you used your pen on paper, why you let your fingers tap against the keys, to make her destiny so horrible. Maybe it’s true after all that writers are the most evil of them all.

For the first time, you truly feel like the villain.

“Why are your hands shaking, maid?!” Her tone is clipped, sharp and venomous. You wince, and she rips her own strands away from your grasps with a huff, doing it herself.

“I-I’m sorry.” You jump back, grabbing fistfuls of your skirt and downcasting your head, bottom lip quivering. You lack the courage to look her in her eyes, but she does not.

“—Your highness,” she corrects.

“Your highness.” You nod. “I’m sorry, your highness.”

A sigh spills from her pretty lips and her fingers work her locks, braiding it tightly without a single piece loose. “Soon, it’ll be princess. And one day, you’ll have to call me Empress.”

There’s a silence. She gazes at you through the mirror and her body softens. “Y/N,” the lady calls you quietly, “look at me.”

With hesitance, you lift your chin, locking your gaze upon her.

“You don’t have to be afraid. Be at ease.” A tiny smile graces her lips, and she nods at you, gentler and becoming almost a maternal presence. “There was no need for you to apologize.”

“I—”

“And there’s no need for you to call me such a title, at least when we’re alone.” Supposedly, you grew up together, practically sisters at this point. But you feel like you know her on a deeper level. You wrote her, you know all her emotions and experiences, you created her.

In a way, you are her.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been harsh to you.” She drapes her braids behind her back, hands folded into her lap. “Things have been getting out of hand at the palace. I haven’t been feeling well.”

“There’s no need for you to apologize to me, your highness.” You’re compelled to speak to her as delicately as you can, afraid that the fragile girl will shatter in your hands. She is no less than your age but has lived through more than five lifetimes worth of pain. At least, that’s what you’ve written her as.

You step forward, raising your hands to do her hair again, at least to the best of your abilities.

There’s a quiet and peaceful moment, the morning air seeping through the open window, the birds swooping across the azure sky and chirping their lively lullabies. The sun gleams down, rays pouring through the paper walls and a sort of serenity fills your soul.

“Do you think he’ll ever love me?”

Lady Yeonhwa stares at you carefully through the mirror. It’s a test, a deliberate question. But her gaze tells that she already knows too much about your own inner feelings.

“The crown prince.” She clarifies, “Min Yoongi.”

You swallow down the thick lump in your throat. “I’m not sure.”

“Love is fickle. At least that’s what my mother told me all my life. It’s what she told me before we came here.”

You don’t know what to say to her, how to make things better, how to lessen the agony that is to come. Sure, you’re not attached to this universe, you don’t shoulder any real responsibilities, there’s no need to feel any guilt. But you cannot bear to hurt her, the person who is all too real in front of you.

“So are humans,” you add on hesitantly, wondering if it’s right to speak up when she’s in the middle of voicing her own worries. “A-are you ready?” Your cotton-filled mouth manages to stumble something coherent out, though you wince at the next words. “To marry Min Yoongi.”

“I don’t have a choice, ready or not. It is my duty to marry him.” Anything less of that would ruin her reputation, soil her family name. After all, her own family was the one who forced her into this position, and they would never accept her back if anything else happened. It’s a life of suffering. “I cannot run away.”

You speak nothing, uttering no syllables. Merely, you force your fingers to stop quivering and you fix her up-do as best as you can before she takes over, polishing the flyaways and sitting back when you place the pins back into her tightly knotted strands.

Once it’s complete, you step away.

Lady Yeonhwa is the one that parts her lips to whisper first- “Y/N, have I wronged you in any way?”

Your blood runs to ice. “Pardon?”

The young girl turns in her seat, eyes desperately reading yours. “I’ve been gracious to you since the day you set foot into our manor. We lived together, grew up together. I shared the same bed as you for many years, and we learnt how to read, write, together. I love you like a sister born from the same parents and I know lately, lately, we haven’t been as close. I’ve been distant to you, cold, but let me make one request.”

She drops down to her knees. Your eyes widen. If you knew anything about this girl that you created with your own hands and thoughts, it’s that she never begged anyone.

“Lady Yeonhwa—”

“I have no one.” She faces the ground. “My parents, my brothers, they’ve all left me. I’ve been sold to the royal family and I know it won’t take long before I’ll be thrown away again. He’ll find a million other concubines in place of me. I’m nothing but a pawn, but…but, Y/N, I—”

There’s scattered footsteps outside of the door, rattling the frame. “The Crown Prince awaits.”

The doors burst open and it’s Min Yoongi, the person you’ve been waiting for.

Except, this time, you don’t want to be taken away by him. Still, he marches forward, without giving the other woman in the room a single glance, grabbing onto your wrist and leading you outside. “W-wait—” you stutter, but he stops you.

“We need to talk, Y/N. Like, now.”

The four guards don’t ask any questions, even if he’s of royal status, personally talking to a lowly maid like you. In the story, he’s the prince and his word is final. And as you’re dragged away, you turn your head one last time, catching a glimpse of Yeonhwa, how she’s still bowing on the ground and how tears have begun to trickle from her lash line. The doors shut.

“Thank God you’re here.” Once he’s lead you to the secluded gardens, Yoongi turns and embraces your body, pulling you close until your chest is pressed against his. A broken gasp spills from your lips and your hands tremble, lifting to return the touch, grasping at him.

You clutch him close, like he’s your only lifeline. Your nose digs into the crook of his neck and you hold back a heart wrenching sob. One question rings inside your mind: why is it so difficult to have him close to you?

“I missed you,” he murmurs and you nod, weakly humming a single note.

You were taken away so abruptly from him. One moment, his eyes had grown wide when you grabbed a hold of the collar of his shirt, and the next, you had dissipated from his grasps. As disappointing as it is to Yoongi for leaving the wonderful world of Hogwarts, there are more pressing matters at hand.

“I missed you too.” It stings when you pull away, an itch underneath your flesh that screams for you to hold onto him before he’s taken from you.

You both face each other and a smile finds its way up your lips when you see how well he is in this place. He looks healthy, dressed adequately, hat and blue robes with the emblem of a dragon on his clothes. In contrast, you are the complete opposite, weak and feeble. Yoongi could feel your bones when he hugged you close and to see you in such a state, it’s painful.

“Y/N—” He holds your hand, his furrowed brows marring his face. “We…..I...I’m getting married in a few hours.”

You suck in a breath, swallowing down the thick lump in your throat. “I know.”

“Well, we need to think of something now. Fictional or not, I can’t marry someone I don’t know.” His voice is quiet but urgent, stressed with a hint of panic. He sweeps your blank features, confused as to your strange composure. “We need to run away.”

You and Yoongi, it would never work. At least, not in this universe. It was far too forbidden.

You tear your gaze away. “We can’t.”

“What do you mean we can’t? What are we supposed to do then? What is the ending supposed to be?” When you don’t respond, he begins to piece it together himself. In his historical setting, if you’re a maid, and he’s a prince-

“I’m right, aren’t I? We need to run away together.”

You shake your head, letting go of him to ball your fists together. “I...can’t do that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Give me a good reason why not.”

“This entire time, we’ve been doing things without any major consequences. We had no responsibilities, not attachments, no empathy but that girl in there.” You stare into his eyes, unwavering and you point back to the small home. “That girl that you’re supposed to marry, I can’t hurt her like I’m supposed to.”

He doesn’t understand. “What?”

“She...she’s important to me.” His gaze becomes too much and you turn away, facing the endless sky that seems more like a prison and less like freedom. “I..I wrote her after my first breakup. She is everything that I’ve always wanted to be. She’s the reason why I became serious about writing. She is the first character that my heart ever ached for and I...I can’t hurt her like I planned.”

“So, what are we supposed to do? Are you going to watch me marry her? Are we going to be stuck in this universe?” His stare bores holes into your skin. Yoongi’s voice nearly gives out as it drops into a murmur. “Are you going to give up on me so easily?”

You sigh. “Yoongi.”

“Y/N, I...I—” His features are contorted into distress. It seems like there’s something he wants to say, something that he’s been craving and aching to let loose, but he’s unable to let it tumble out. “Never mind. Just...think about what to do then. We still have some time.”

Without much else, he spins around and leaves. His entourage of guards and other servants soon follow and you watch as his silhouette fades into the environment. For some reason, your chest twinges in a dull pain.

It seems like no matter what choice you make, it’s bound to hurt someone.

Anger pulsates through his veins. Each of his strides carries a heavy weight, booming against the gravel and then the floorboards. The servants bow their heads lower, affected by the darker aura of the crown prince. Min Yoongi does not understand you and he never will.

After all you’ve both been through, the countless realms and circumstances, the strife and fight to return to reality, you were so ready to throw away. But he finds himself less furious and more frustrated—the expression written across your visage is one that he has never witnessed before.

He has known you for years, pulled apart the meaning of your earnest words written in the most lonely of times, been by your side through lifetimes, but he does not know you. Truly.

The man has never known your tears, your sadness, your suffering. He only knows of your rage and the small glimpses of happiness. And to see you in such a state, broken and weary, tired and drained, he is frustrated to the point of ire. There is nothing he can do, no way to mend your wounds.

“Your highness,” a croaking voice interrupts his trance, and he turns towards the elder speaking. The guards stand down and Yoongi supposes the stranger must be a royal advisor of sorts. “Why do you appear so grim? Do you not know today is your wedding celebration?”

He scoffs. “No, it isn’t.”

An amused smile takes place on the old man’s lips, and he settles down on the stone bench by the tree of the courtyard. “But it clearly is. Tonight, you will wed to Lady Yeonhwa and the country will be united again. Eventually, she will become your empress and bear a son who will someday be crowned Emperor as well.”

The way this elder smiles, a mischievous glint in his irises, the corners of his lips turned upwards, it reminds Yoongi of his boss, Jeon Jungkook. But the latter man was never this eloquent and astute despite having a full time job as the head of a publishing company. The young kid was always a bit erratic and panicked, rather than composed. Even so, the man before Yoongi just seems to echo his boss uncannily.

Yoongi doesn’t care about this universe. Unlike you, he has no connection or attachments to these people and as unprincely as it may be, he continues to himself, brash and angry.

“I won’t marry her, whoever she is. Why should I?” He inhales a sharp breath. “I don’t love her.”

The advisor stares at him. “Then who do you love?”

There’s a silence.

“Love is indeed fickle.” The elder says, looking up towards the cirrus clouds and soaking in the sunlight through his wrinkled skin, skin that has touched thunderstorms and hurricanes, blizzards and scorching droughts. “It changes and alters with time. You can grow to love someone, fall out of love with someone, learn to utilize love as a weapon. How do you think it’s possible to that matrimony can unify countries, make one stronger and prevent warfare?”

“You will learn to love Lady Yeonhwa. Over time, the partnership can easily alter into affection and infatuation. It’s your duty to marry her — for the better of our people and the kingdom.” The elder smiles at the grimacing prince whose patience is running thin. “You are no ordinary boy. You are the prince. Your selfish wants must be sacrificed.” He chuckles and somehow it oddly reminds Yoongi of someone familiar, “You’ve probably heard this all your life, haven’t you?”

“But child, to me, you are not simply bounded to your noble title. You are a boy I have tended to since the dawn of time. You are Min Yoongi.” The call of his name has his attention snapped back into focus. In the short time he’s been in this place, no one has called him directly, except for you and now, this old man who stares directly into his eyes in an unwavering and unsettling manner.

“And if you make no mistake and truly bear the feelings of love towards another, take it before it’s gone and hold it close to you. While love cannot overcome all barriers, it makes it easier to uphold to suffering, and only the universe knows how much suffering there is.”

For the most part, Yoongi is unfazed by the inspirational pep-talk by some random man that is apparently like his adopted grandfather in this realm. But there’s still a part that resonates within him, tugging his chest, and he clears his throat. “Are you suggesting I run?”

“I would never, your highness. The Emperor and Empress would immediately skin me alive and boil me upside down if I urged you to go against your duties.” There’s a playful sparkle in his irises. “I am merely speaking about your innermost feelings, am I not?”

A noncommittal noise leaves the back of Yoongi’s throat.

The advisor continues on with a mindless ramble, “There is no fault with feeling. Sometimes we are the most human when we are devoid from thought and simply feel.”

“You’re pretty wise, aren’t you, Jungkook?”

“I am,” the old man quips back at him playfully and stares at the profile of the prince as he settles down beside him. Yoongi isn’t sure which part of the question the man is responding to. “And you aren’t the boy I taught, are you?”

Yoongi’s caught off guard and the elder merely chuckles, saying nothing else.

On the other side of the palace grounds, your fingers are quick at work, knees bruised from kneeling on the ground. “Will you hurry up?!”

The head-maid barks and you fumble, tugging the fabrics tighter to hug against the lady’s body. A pained exhale leaves her lungs and you wince apologetically, trying your best to quicken your pace. The wedding attire is gorgeous, silk reds and golden flowers imprinted into the skirt and sleeves. Compared to your own clothes, you are nothing.

There are other maids, younger and older, who are swarming Yeonhwa. They fix any loose strand of hair, keeping her locks wrapped tightly against her skull with heavy pins digging into her head. Jewels and rings adorn each of her fingers, precious stones hanging off her ears. The clothes begin to drown her frame and although she is otherworldly beautiful-

“Take it off!”

She screams and shrieks, beginning to cry in front of the full-length mirror. The younger girls are startled, stepping back and immediately, the middle-aged head maid comes over in hasty steps. “My lady, we mustn't. The wedding is in a three hours, and we have to prepare.”

“I don’t care!” She begins to hyperventilate and without further instructions, you begin to undo the layers and layers. The young girl continues to have her meltdown, crying and weeping, heaving in breaths. “I need to get out of this! I need to!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you mutter, attempting to placate her. The other woman is baffled and watches as you undo the efforts of the past half-hour, calming Yeonhwa as you slowly begin to untie the laces of her corset. The court ladies try to approach you again, but know better than to go against your actions as you slowly remove layer by layer of satin and silk until Yeonhwa is left in nothing but a simple white slip dress. You even release her hair from the tight knots and braids, pulling out clips and ribbons, jewels and the daffodil flower hair pins. It helps - at least visibly, she seems to have stopped shaking.

Once she’s completely freed, she turns around to snatch your hand within her own. “I need a bath. Y/N will accompany me, do not bother us.”

None of them argue, not when they’re afraid of upsetting someone who will soon be crowned Princess, then Empress. So, she turns towards the bathhouse and you barely have the time to bow your head slightly towards the other women.

In silence, you draw her a warm bath in the wooden tub, filling it slowly, bucket by bucket. You hold her hand, coaxing her into it, and she eases, a shallow exhale spilling from her lips with the temperature of the water. As you dip your fingers in, you hiss, the heat scorching and soothing all at once.

“Are you feeling any better, your highness?” You ask gently, reaching over to dip a soft hand-towel in the water. The fabric slowly absorbs the water, and you gently drag it along the skin of the princess.

She frowns. “Don’t call me by that title,” she orders sternly before becoming gentler. “Please, not here, Y/N. If no one else, I can at least be straightforward with you.”

You nod, but she isn’t even looking at you, so you hope she takes the silence as acceptance. You don’t really know what else to say, know if bringing up the wedding, Yoongi, anything, is appropriate. It feels wrong to want to mention him. So, you keep your lips pressed firmly together as the water sloshes around her body and the tub. You lightly scrub, admiring the suppleness of her youthful skin, but at the same time, there’s a kind of pity inside you that is inerasable.

Almost, you think that the remainder of her bath will be spent in silence, but then she speaks up. “I’ve always envied you.”

It’s no slip of the tongue. It sounds like a confession, an earnest secret hidden in the depths of her mind for as long as she could muster before letting it slip out, tumbling from her mouth like vomit. She sounds pained.

You freeze. “What?”

Yeonhwa sighs, like she’s regretting ever opening her mouth. “You have everything that I don’t,” she tells you sadly. “Freedom. Hope. Love.” The final word sounds as though it’s being wretched from her throat. Sounds like a plea, a cry for help.

Coming from the soon-to-be Princess, of all people, it catches you off guard. They are words you never thought you’d hear. At least, not from her. To you, she has everything. Even Yoongi.

It’s absurd. It’s ridiculous. “But… but Yeonhwa… you’re dignified. Confident. You’re…” You’re fumbling for the right words. Yeonhwa is everything you’ve ever wanted to be, and more. “You’re beautiful.”

She scoffs bitterly. “And you think that means anything? My grace, my beauty, they are meaningless. I have no one.” You feel like you need to say something, tell her anything, but she continues without ceasing. “That won’t change. I live alone, and I will die alone. I am alone.”

It’s strange, chilling. It’s as if she’s already aware of her destiny, aware of the ending you’ve written for her. Like she knows that you’ve created her only to abandon her in the end, leave her in favor of the protagonist you’re meant to care about.

Without even realizing it, your vision has begun to blur. You find yourself kneeling on the hard stone floor as if you’re begging for her forgiveness, atoning for your sins. It’s peculiar. Strange. You feel as though you’re having an out-of-body experience, like you’re watching a mirror image of yourself. Because in a way, you are. You’ve written Yeonhwa to reflect yourself, your beliefs. That was the whole damn point. She is you, and you are her.

You had always thought you’d die alone. But watching it now, seeing your thoughts play out in front of you, it feels different. It feels like there’s something that needs changing.

“That’s not true,” you say softly, even if you can’t believe it yourself.

“How is it not, maid?” Her voice is cold, distant, emotionless.

For years, you had thought this way, felt as though you were hopelessly lost, hopelessly alone. Nobody would love you, nobody would help shoulder your hardships, your pain. No matter how many stories you create, how many characters you build and come to know, how many fantasies you construct, how many universes you see, you have always woken up alone, nothing more than a laptop beside you or a pen in your hand, the static of your screens the only noise other than the thumping in your head.

You have always been alon-

“You’re wrong,” you find yourself saying, mustering up as much courage as you can. She turns to you, a doubtful look lacing her expression. “You have me.”

You were never alone. You aren’t alone. You’ll never be alone. There has always been someone there for you, time and time again, a certain someone who broke down your door with wine in his hand, who invaded your space with minute smiles and sneaky grins, who knew you and your writing, your words, better than you ever have, who has travelled with you across galaxies, across timelines.

His name is Min Yoongi.

And you had never been on your own. Yoongi would never have let you. He’d always be there, bothering you every step of the way.

You could hardly imagine a world, at this point, where he wouldn’t be by your side.

“Y/N…” Yeonhwa says softly, trailing off into nothingness.

“And you deserve love, Yeonhwa. More than you know,” you tell her firmly, blinking away the water in your eyes as you reach over to embrace her, pulling her in tight. The droplets on her back seep into the thin fabric that covers your body but you can’t find it in you to care. “Never give up on that. It’s waiting for you, you know? It’s out there. You have me, so don’t think, for even a second, that you’re alone. I’ll always be here.”

She grins softly, mostly to herself. “And what happens when you leave?”

Yeonhwa knows.

“I’ll still be here,” you promise, and it’s a promise you can keep but only because you’ve hand-stitched this world together, built it brick by brick. You know it like the back of your hand, have walked through space and time in these universes. Even though you’ll vanish, watch your surroundings disintegrate before your eyes, you know she’ll never forget you. You know that your presence will remain, long after you do not.

“No matter where you or I go, I’ll always be right by your side,” you tell her.

Yeonhwa chuckles to herself softly, shaking her head. “How is it that I can believe you so easily?”

“Because it’s true,” you solemnly vow. “I’ll never leave you.”

Yeonhwa hums to herself, like she’s thinking of what to say next. Maybe your characters, Yeonhwa and this maid, have grown up together, watched each other mature into the young ladies you are now, but you, you as a person, as a traveller, you feel like you have a greater connection. You forged her out of your own insecurities, molded together a character that is everything you’ve ever wanted and everything you’ve ever been. Being with her is like being with you, a version of you that you are slowly beginning to realize, has it all wrong. You wish you could go back in time, tell yourself that you aren’t alone, that there will always be somebody by your side. Being with her is like watching your insecurities blossom into a real human being, a girl who is just as scared as you once were, and now, you want to fix that.

“Then go.”

“What?” You inquire, looking into her deep brown eyes. “Go?”

You pull away from her, but not because you’ve been repelled, or because she’s told you to. You can recall the original ending—remember how Yeonhwa is supposed to turn bitter and resentful, hatred overwhelming her once forgiving being, but in present time, her soft smile says nothing of the sort. In fact, it appears to be the opposite.

“There’s no one I would rather be happy for than you,” she admits. “You love him, don’t you?”

You don’t even have to say his name to know who she’s talking about.

Slowly, you find yourself nodding.

“If what you say is true, then I suppose I have no reason to be lonely,” she tells you, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. She’s letting both you and the only person she once believed would ever grow to love her go?

That wasn’t part of the original script.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you mutter out, unable to formulate something better to say. You feel as though you at least owe her an apology for writing her like this, for letting her turn into someone who can hardly see the color in a rainbow. You have no other words, nothing but sympathy for her, for a girl that once was meant to mirror you but no longer does.

She shakes her head. “No need to apologize. Go to Yoongi. He must be waiting for you.”

“Don’t you want help with draining your bath?” You ask, a final offer for any extra help. It’s sort of like a last request, like the last line in this chapter of your life.

She sighs, perfectly content with wading in the water until someone else comes and orders her return. Finally, she is at peace. “I’m alright.”

You nod, getting up and dusting off your cotton dress. There are no more words left to say, not as you open the door to her room to begin your a new quest to find him.

“Y/N?” She calls out. You turn around, meeting her eyes for a final time. She beams. “Thank you.”

It sounds like she’s not only thanking you for teaching her to love herself, she’s thanking you for being there. For creating her, for allowing her to live truly and freely and independently. You grin in response before walking from the room, letting the door shut softly behind you.

It turns out, finding the man in question isn’t as difficult as you thought it would be.

The grand palace grounds are a maze in and of themselves but nothing far from Hogwarts and it isn’t confusing to navigate considering there’s a horde of people surrounding the crown prince. They’re all trying to placate him, following along like tiny minions as he paces the courtyard, refusing to put on any wedding attire or even nibble on any of the food that’s to be served in the evening.

“Your highness,” one of the men bows his head and speaks gruffly, “the Empress will not be happy if you don’t begin your wedding preparations.”

“I don’t care,” he growls out, snapping back at them with the stringency of Mafia Leader Yoongi that you still remember. The memory brings a slight smile to your face and you take a step forward from the shadows.

“Yoon—”

Before you can even call his name, you’re being yanked back. “What do you think you’re doing, maid?!”

A man has ripped you back, practically screaming in your face and his spit splattering on your skin. Once the guard takes a good look at you, his grip loosens. “Wait a minute, aren’t you the personal servant of Lady Yeonhwa? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?”

“I..uh—”

You’re scared, a little stunned and unnerved that you’ll be taken some place elsewhere that someone of your status would belong, dragged far from Yoongi who’s waiting for you only a few paces away. But there’s not a chance to make a squeak in front of the looming guard or plead your case, not when there’s a ear-shattering shout.

“Y/N!” He saw you. There’s no reason to be afraid. It’s okay to trust him. “Let her go this instant, you idiot!”

The guard is shocked from the prince’s vulgarities and immediately jumps back, releasing his hold on you. The parade of attendants and officiants barely get to trail after him as Yoongi marches up to you, a stupidly happy grin spreading across his face. “Y/N! Finally! I was waiting for you. Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine.” You smile meekly, lowering your head as the crowd of men are staring daggers into your form. Yoongi seems to sense your unease almost instinctively, and he turns around with narrowed eyes.

“Why are you all still standing here?!” He hisses with his ultimate pissed-off-bitch-resting-face and it causes you to stifle back a laugh. It seems like Yoongi’s ran out of patience with the overbearing servants. “Can’t you see I’m trying to have a private conversation?!”

“But your highness,” one of them pipes up out of desperation, “We really, really need to get you prepared for the wedding. There’s a lot to do and you haven’t even gotten dressed—”

All it takes is for Yoongi to glare.

His dark brown eyes almost turn black, a muscle in his cheek twitching, his jaw clenching and teeth grating together. They scatter immediately, some reluctant and others out of fear.

Finally, you’re left with alone with Yoongi.

It takes a second for you to regain full consciousness of your surroundings. You’re gazing at him with a new-found perspective, a sort of appreciation for his presence even if he annoys you to no end and likes to provoke you for his enjoyment. You have an urge to reach up and kiss his cheek. But of course, you haven’t lost all your brain cells…yet.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No.” You shake your head. “It’s just your ugliness is really showing today.”

His eye twitches and you hold back your giggle, ultimately failing. “Don’t blame me if I end up punching you in the face.”

“Hey, I’m just kidding, you know.” You hit him in a playful manner, one that would probably get your hand severed off by a guillotine if anyone else were to witness in this universe. But alas, this is not a poor maid and the crown prince. It’s you and Yoongi.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes and grinning. The pair of you are put at ease for the first time since being in this place. It finally feels like its return back to normal, the little banters and quips, the endless teasing that feels more playful than before when malice was laced in every other syllable.

“Did you think of a solution yet?” Yoongi asks. “These people are really insistent and it’s driving me up the goddamn wall. I really don’t want to marry someone, Y/N. I know it’s fictional and all that but it still feels weird. If I get tied to them, I swear if they come back to our ‘reality’ and they haunt me, I’m seriously going to kill y—”

“Let’s run.”

“Run?” His infamous gummy grin returns, plastering across his face like the fool that he is. “Are you sure? Thought you were against my idea. So, I guess this is my chance to say ‘I told you so’?”

You snort, beginning to pull him along, opposite of the courtyard and into an empty hallway. “Shut up, dork.”

“Do you even know where we’re going?”

“Nope.”

He laughs but still trusts you to lead the way. It works for a while, navigating the grounds and deflecting any of the noble guests who have come for the ceremony. You even catch the Empress at some point, a distinguished older woman that is supposedly is Yoongi’s mother in this realm and you make sure to sprint in the opposite direction.

“We just need to find a horse or a carriage or something.” You vaguely remember the details of the ending, just that you needed to escape but going by feet would certainly be futile. “Do you—”

Suddenly, Yoongi tugs you in towards his chest, hugging you close and spinning his body around to hide behind a wooden pillar. You make muffled noises against the palm of his hand, something along the lines of ‘what the fuck’ but he reaches down, shushing you against your ear and his breath against your nape has you sealing your lips.

“Have you seen the crown prince?!”

“No! Where did he go?! The Emperor is calling for him!”

“He was just talking to the maid girl, and then they both disappeared when we turned around!”

“What the—” There’s a pause and their steps get closer. You gulp, trying to steal a peek but Yoongi doesn’t let you, shuffling your bodies away from the naggy attendants. “Well search for him quickly and quietly! If it gets out that the groom is missing, there’s gonna be big trouble!”

“Oh dear, oh dear!” There are notes of panic within their voices but it thankfully fades off.

Once it becomes silent, Yoongi wraps his hand around yours, lacing his fingers together. He takes one glance both ways and the two of you book it. You do your best to keep your steps quiet, huffs leaving your mouth as you rip down hallways and the outside, hiding in the shadows, past guards and guests alike. There’s already music being played to welcome the nobility, drums and a wooden flute, a singer using their powerful vocals in a trot style.

And eventually, by sheer chance and luck, an opening is seen.

“Hey, Y/N,” he whispers while you’re both hidden behind a tree. “Can you ride a horse?”

“No.” You look at him. “Can you?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Nadda.”

Well shit. But there’s no other choice, no possible solution, at least not when he decides there’s no more discussion needed and begins to pull you out into broad daylight.

Instantly, a guard is hopping onto the scene, shouting, “Hey!”

The two female aristocrats gasp. “Is that Prince Yoongi?!” And they’re more appalled that he’s touching a dirty, lowly maid like you. But there’s no time to think.

It’s absolute mayhem.

One second, you have a fistful of your dress, sprinting full speed and the next, Yoongi’s lead you to climb on top of the horse. The coachman was shoved to the ground, landing with an ‘oof’ and saying no more as he watched the prince struggle to clamber up after you.

“Hee-yah!” The man behind you whips the reins but the horse doesn’t move, still munching on some grass that he found on the side of the dirt road. “Hee-yah! Move, you fucking animal!”

“Yelling it is not gonna help!” You shout back at him in panic and pet the creature with a gentle hand, attempting to coax it. “Giddy up, horsey.”

Still, the pony tortures you both, standing as still as a statue, fluffy tail whirling in the air like the blades of a mini-helicopter

“Prince Yoongi!” There are more shouts, guards who rush over with spears and the entire horde of stubby servants and minion attendants are hysterically chasing after the two of you. “Prince Min Yoongi! Crown Prince Yoongi! Please! Your father is looking for you! The wedding! The wedding—!”

“Come on, come on!” Yoongi says, trying his very best to egg the horse on before the palace staff catch up. “Move, goddamnit! Move!”

The servants are shrieking. The attendants are scampering. They get closer and closer while the guests are still shell-shocked from his vulgarities, merely watching the chaos. But as the guard with their pointed weapons approach, suddenly, the horse puffs out air through its nose.

A fingertips reach away from snatching you, the horse begins to dart.

You nearly break your neck, getting whiplash and Yoongi screams behind you, holding the reins and his other arm wrapping around your waist to keep you from falling. The old horse on the other hand is free from dragging along a two hundred pound carriage and tears through the dirt roads, past guards and servants who shout after Yoongi on the top of their lungs.

The wild animal kicks down the small red gate doors and bounds towards the empty, open road towards the forest.

The palace is left behind you.

A giggle spills from your lips and eventually, you have the courage to loosen your grip from the animal. The wind weaves into your hair, kissing against your cheeks and reddening them with the rush. It’s glorious.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to think the same. “Wh...at t..he f-fuck—” He’s let you take the reins, instead, holding you with both his arms, his eyes shut tight in fear and his head hiding in the crook of your neck.

You cackle and shout above the whistling winds, “Should we go faster, Min?!”

“No!” He cries softly into your skin, “Stop teasing me!”

“I think we’re gonna need to go faster!” You whip the reins, laughing and taking a look back to make sure a new mob of guards aren’t hot on your heels. Thankfully, it seems like you’re safe for now. “I just robbed the groom from the alter, I want to make sure I don’t get caught!”

He lightly pinches your side, causing another fit of giggles from you. “I’m seriously going to kill you when I get off this thing!”

“I’d like to see you try!”

Who knows how long you’re galloping into the wilderness for, horse’s hooves marking into the dirt, causing a puff of dust to be left behind in your trail. The forest becomes thicker until the path has diminished into grass and the trees are all you see, canopies covering the evening sky and orange light filtered through the lush greenery. You eventually slow down, stopping to a halt a little ways off.

You jump off the creature, barely with Yoongi’s iron grip still around you. With a hand held up high, he pouts before he takes it, hopping off too. You pet the horse, running your fingers through its mane and thanking it for taking you so far. It even nuzzles into you, causing a snickering laugh to leave your chest and Yoongi watches, waiting patiently.

“What’s the plan, princess?”

It’s an ironic pet name considering your current status but you don’t mind. Hand-in-hand, you’re walking through the bushes on the forest floor and you take a moment to steal a glimpse of Yoongi, smiling. “We run a little bit more before they can catch up. You trust me?”

He returns the smile. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

There’s one more exchanged laughter and then you’re leaping through the forest, following lights and listening to the birds. Any sounds created by other humans fade into nature’s background and soon, you’ve found yourself at a clearing, an open field that will lead you to the border of the country.

It’s freedom.

Yoongi clasps his palm tight against yours. You intertwine your fingers together, laughing and making the last sprint. He follows alongside you, giddy with excitement and holding you close to him. While he abandons his dutiful matrimony, a new promise of marriage is on the horizon.

The ending to the story is finally fulfilled and the universe morphs to white.

Writers notes: Once again, please feel free to message me or gukyi at any time!! Any message is worthwhile. The next part will be posted over at gukyi’s blog, so, check out her awesome-sauce stuff!

CO-WRITTEN WITH @gukyi

#bts fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #bts scenario #bts scenarios #i'd like to think of this series as an elevator #ever chapter and every world we go up another level #anyways i think the next chapter is my favourite one!!! WOO!!

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thealphabetmurders · 5 years

Text

Scrambled Thoughts

Pairings: Romantic Logince, Sibling Analogical

Word Count: 2013 (for Chapter 3), 8163 in total

(Previous) (First)

Summary: Roman was not a rebel by any means. Roman was not a fan of breaking rules. Sure, he bent some from time to time, but never done anything blatantly wrong, that was not in service to his passions. Yet, despite the protests his best friend and his consciousness, he picks up two dozen eggs and goes to vandalize. Now, Roman has to avoid suspension, make amends with Virgil, alleviate the concern of Patton, and not fall in love with his enemy Logan.

Triggers: Bullying, Violence, Vandalism, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Mentions of Racism, Classism

Authors Note:This fic originally was going to be just 3 chapters long, but the people on my discord server implored me to write some more angst. Please enjoy. (Again, I was inspired by a dream @misplaced-my-notes had, thank you).

Taglist (for everyone who seemed interested): @misplaced-my-notes, @jaszczurkaaa, @an-atypical, @jughead-is-canonically-aroace (let me know if you wanted to be added/taken off)

(Read on AO3)

One Week Later

Tensions had been running high between Logan and Roman over the week. Logan would smirk at something he had read, faux-gasp at something on his phone, or just give Roman a smug grin, and Roman would return the favor in a civilized fashion of obscene hand gestures.

It felt as though this was going to go on indefinitely. That was, until, a randomly assigned pairs project was put before them. And as fate would have it, there was no question as to who Roman was paired up with.

“So,” Mrs. Volts continued, “As this is a public forum debate, you and your partner will work together to debate another pair. Your resolution topics have been posted on the board. After reading, you and your partner should get together and get started,”

Roman nearly cried as him and Logan looked at one another, both filled with the same amount of despair. They looked at their topic stand together, but looking very much separated, “Americans are entitled to free and public healthcare,”

The two made their way back to a desk in the corner and pulled out their computers wordlessly and shared a document with one another.

“So, I will take the affirmative since I am sure you would love to argue the negative for this one-”

Logan cut him off, “No, I believe we should work together on each one, that way we know an equal amount about the affirmative and negative,” Roman just nodded, “Listen, Roman I would like to apologize,”

Roman frowned, “For what?”

Logan fiddled with the sleeves of his leather jacket and continued talking, not meeting Roman’s eyes, “About my offhand comment on the quality of state schooling. It has been bothering me for days now and I wanted to apologize. I am speaking from a place of privilege, privilege I know I have. I intended to hurt you with that, but I wanted to apologize now, because I immediately regretted as I said it. I made a mistake, and I was wrong,”

Roman was shocked at Logan’s admission. He believe it would go in a completely different direction leading up to a punchline about Roman’s intelligence, “That was very big of you, Logan, thank you. Consider your apology, accepted,” Roman said with a wave of his hand.

“Great,” Logan deadpanned, unzipping and shrugging of his jacket. Today he wore a eggshell vertical striped shirt with a short black tie. Roman looked down at his own attire, a bright purple and red show shirt advertising Noises Off as well as his red bomber. He laughed silently to himself, wondering how they could be dressed more different.

“Are you also going to apologize for bruising my foot by smashing it with your pumps?” Roman asked.

“No, absolutely not,” Logan looked up from his typing, “I will only apologize for things I feel remorse towards and I do not regret that. I can, would, and will do it again when the opportunity presents itself.”

“Whatever you say, Specs,”

Logan shook his head, “We are not at nickname level yet,”

Roman smirked, “What are you gonna do about it- and I see you raising your foot, it that really your only move?”

Another Week Later

Roman didn’t know how it happened. Slowly, Logan and Roman’s, as the former would call it, ‘childish competitive rivalry’ slowly morphed into a ‘childish competitive friendship’. It must have all started when Roman invited Logan over to work on their debate, fully knowing they were ahead with work, and Logan accepted.

Maybe Roman did scream the entire time he rode on the back of Logan’s bike, gripping onto his waist, crying for deal life. It was possible that they spent 10 minutes working on their presentation but then forwent their original motive to play Mario Party. It’s extremely likely that Logan painted Roman’s nails black and Roman taught Logan how to make a meal out of 5 things in the pantry.

“What was that about, Ro?” Patton asked as Logan passed Roman in the hall, bumping him in the shoulder, winking, then smiling.

“Oh, that? We’re friends now, can you believe that?” Roman said, smiling. They sat down for lunch and Patton was smiling meekly.

“So, you both are friends now?” Patton asked. Roman nodded, taking out his salad, “Just… friends?”

Roman’s heart stopped and he swallowed, “Yea, Pat, just friends. W-why?”

Patton giggled, “I don’t know, that did not seem like just friendly behavior to me. I am pretty sure Logan was more expressive in those 5 seconds than I have seen him in the 3 years I have known him,”

Roman stabbed his salad, the fork slightly cracking the bottom of the cheap plastic, “Logan and I are just friends, nothing more. Either way, he is straight,”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Well, no, but he is a nerd and exudes that straight energy. No gay guys ride motorcycles,”

Patton considers this for a moment, “I guess. Bi?”

Roman’s eyes widen, “Huh. I didn’t even think of that. Motorcycles are big bisexual energy,”

“Do you like Logan?” Patton asked outright.

“No. Not really. He is still a self-righteous know it all,”

“So, you will not be upset if I am brutally honest with you, Ro,” Patton started out, hesitantly.

“I suppose… What is going on?”

Patton pushed his lunch aside and folded his hands onto the table, “Don’t you think it is a bit weird that a week ago you and Logan were at each other’s throats, and now he is kind of flirting with you in the halls?”

Roman frowned, chewing on his fork, “What are you saying, Patton?”

“I think that he may be feeding off of your flirtatious nature and using you,”

Roman dropped his fork in his salad and scoffed, “Using me? For what?”

Patton tongued the inside of his cheek, “You seriously do not remember, kiddo? How you vandalized his house and he is trying to get you suspended. Doesn’t he have to come up with something in about a week?”

“Yea…”

“Maybe this is a tactic. Get close to you for information and then use that against you,” Patton put his rounded glasses on top of his head and rubbed his eyes, “I never want to be a negative Nancy, Roman, but I have your best interest in mind, yea? You need a scholarship and fraternizing with the enemy is a damn good way to not get one,”

Roman scoffed, “The enemy?”

“You know what I mean,” Patton looked at his watch and sighed, “I promised Mr. Eldredge I would help him set up for Senior Facs, I just going to head there now,” He quite harshly threw everything in his lunch box and swung his school bag over his shoulder, “Just please listen to me Roman, for once, just listen to me. If you had listened to me in the first place, maybe you and Logan could have been friends without any ulterior motives,”

Patton walked off with purpose leaving Roman by himself to compartmentalize what Patton had revealed to him.

Logan is incredibly smart. That is just a universal truth. With every class, Logan excels and has developed quite the income from selling the faculty WiFi password to students, which allows them to access restricted content on their computers. Yet, there are always two sides to the same coin. Logan uses a lot of that intelligence purely for self preservation. He never gives out test answers or lets anyone copy homework. He is quite selfish with his school supplies as well, but more than anything, Logan is incredibly reserved. Most people high school aged have broken off into cliques or groups they share common interests with. Never Logan. Sure, Logan has acquaintances and people whom he can talk to in class, but never hang out with outside of the fact or even text for leisure. In fact, Roman is pretty sure he is the only contact in Logan phone outside of family.

There is no reason why Logan would randomly, out of the blue, want to become friends with Roman. In fact, it was weird how he didn’t see it for himself, first. Logan was just a parasite, using him off for his own personal gain and wishes then depositing him into a river whenever he has sucked all the blood and life out of him.

Roman gripped at his hair (the curliness of it makes it good to latch on to) and gritted his teeth, willing himself not to spill the hot tears that were taunting the edge of his eyelids. He gritted his teeth and sucked in a cold breath, the air feeling harsh against his enamel, but not as harsh as find out one of the few friends you did make was just using you off.

In a fit of passion and anger, Roman hit his salad off of the table, hitting the wall next to him. Lettuce and dressing stained the wall and the plastic fell on the floor, even more cracked than before. A couple students around him looked at the action, but quickly turned their attention away; nothing interesting enough was happening to stare at the student who looked on the verge of tears. Roman hastily grabbed his bag and ran out of the cafeteria. Normally, he could clean up his mess, but he was too emotional to care.

He walked and walked and walked until he reached his destination in mind. Roman raised a fist and rapped three quick knocks on the door.

“Roman?”

“Mr. B, what are you doing here… I was here to see-” Mr. Remy Brown stepped to the side to reveal Dr. Emile Picani. There were glasses set out and plates scattered across the coffee table at Dr. Picani’s office.

“Roman, is everything alright,” The school psychiatrist leapt up from his couch and rushed over to the door.

The student sniffled in response, but waved his hand away, “No, no I am fine, I just- You guys are having lunch I can come back-”

“No way, Ro,” Mr. B shook his head, “You look terrible,” He opened the door and gestured for the other to come inside.

He tentatively took a few steps inside and sat in the big leather chair across from the couch, settling into it nicely. Roman crossed his legs on the chair and picked up a stuffed dog and began fiddling with it’s long fur.

“I better go, Em,” Mr. B said, awkwardly. Roman always found it to be weird when teacher said other’s first names, but he quickly dismissed that point.

“Actually, I want you here, Mr. B, if that is alright,” Roman said awkwardly, “I was going to go to you, but I knew you were at lunch and didn’t want to bother you,” Roman looked down at his shoes, “Oops,”

The two adults looked at each other with an undesirable expression, but Dr. Picani signaled to the seat next to him and Mr. B sat down.

“Okay, Roman,” Dr. Picani bit his lip and looked up at Roman with worry, “What seems to be going on?”

*****

Microsoft NERD: Roman, you were not here for 6th period and we were supposed to debate today, is everything okay?

Microsoft NERD: I know we were supposed to go to that “Bubble Tea House” that just opened up; did you go home?

Microsoft NERD: Virgil told me you are in 7th Period, I do not know if you got your phone taken by your teacher, but you really should stop texting in class (also, I do not want you to sass me, this is my TA period).

Microsoft NERD: I am waiting by my bike for you in our usual spot.

Microsoft NERD: Roman, I have been waiting for you for about 40 minutes and you haven’t showed or texted me, I am just going to head home.

Microsoft NERD: I apologise, Roman, if I did anything to upset you or if something else upset you that was outside of me. Just, be prepared to debate tomorrow, I suppose. Goodnight, Roman.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logince #sanders sides fic #my writing

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mikeshanlon · 6 years

Text

he’s all that: chapter one

fandom: it

pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)

word count: 3.8k

on ao3

summary:

Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”

“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”

---

Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can't even stand to be in the same room as Richie.

warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners.

a/n: hello!!! hope you enjoy this fic, i will try to update it at least every other sunday (i'll figure out the exact number of chapters before i post chapter two, but it probably won't be more than 10). you don't need to have watched she's all that to get this, although there will be some small easter eggs/quotes from the movie. but the movie has not aged well and is very Heteronormative so like.... no need to watch it lmao.

Senior year— it was what just about any kid in the public schooling system looked forward to. You were high school royalty, enjoying the last hurrah with booze and dancing before being sent off to make your mark on the world. Lanky limbs that weren’t yet grown into became muscled and toned, hips were wider and swayed. Brains were wiser, skin was touched more, and smiles were brighter. It was a time of transformation and change.

Except, senior year was almost over, and Richie Tozier felt like he hadn’t really changed at all. Sure, in the last four years he shot up to 6’2, his voice was deeper, and he wasn’t such a fucking outcast; but really nothing else felt different. He still only passed his classes on genius alone, had a problem respecting authority figures (partially due to the fact that his parents were still pieces of shit), and never knew when to shut the fuck up.

Derry, Maine itself stayed the same too, like a town in a snow globe encased with mom-and-pop businesses and ignorance. Other than iPhones, the small Starbucks on the corner of Main and Belmont, and the fact that the townspeople were slightly less homophobic and racist (slightly being the operative word); Derry was pretty much a time capsule for banana bikes, bullies, and double features with popcorn that had too much salt and not enough butter.

Take the cliques and social hierarchy-- a staple in any American high school, especially one in a small town. Despite it being the 21st century, the cafeteria still had tables for jocks, geeks, nerds, and preps, straight from some 80’s or 90’s teen flick.

Richie, like most things in his life, didn’t necessarily fit into one group or the other, toeing the line between social pariah and popular party dude. He supposed it was the side effects of being the class clown with too-big-for-his-face glasses, a diagnosis for ADHD, and his tendency blazing at any given moment. Funny and wild enough to show up to any party, but not exactly cool enough to hang out with for anything else.

Honestly, it didn’t matter either way, because instead of worrying about what table to eat the cafeteria’s barely edible food at, Richie usually spent his lunch smoking with his friends. It was time to catch up and unwind before the last few classes of the day— and there was no way he could get through chemistry without being high.

As soon as the shrill bell rang, Richie hopped out of his seat, grabbing his shit before placing his (probably failed) history quiz on the teacher’s desk on his way out into the halls.

He weaved through the couples sucking face and the worried AP students, his unruly black curls bouncing like a hyperactive halo around his head as he walked towards his locker.

“‘Sup Tozier!” someone called out to him, a familiar face at the weekend ragers, although he never learned his actual name.

Richie nodded, “Hey, what’s up Keg King?”

“Not much. Hey, you coming to see me defend my title this weekend?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Richie smiled lazily, patting the other boy on the back before strolling along.

It wasn’t a coincidence that his smile faltered as he passed what was left of the Bower’s gang. He and Hockstetter had graduated the year prior, although like most bumfuck racists hellbent on beating up ‘dorks and queers’, they stayed in Derry. The remaining two, Belch and Victor Criss, weren’t nearly as powerful or psychotic as their elders, but they had a reputation to uphold. They weren’t exactly slamming him down on the asphalt in front of the arcade like they did in middle school, but they weren’t friendly either. Mutual respect was even a stretch. He’d enjoy seeing them get their asses handed to them, and he was sure they felt the same.

Richie popped open his locker, catching the loose papers and pencils that inevitably fell out. A small mirror hung on the blue metal door, rendered practically useless because of all the smudges covering it. The remaining space was littered with stickers of indie bands, and post-its with doodles and notes to himself or from his friends.

Have a great day trashmouth <3- bevs

Sparknotes ‘Pygmalion’

Come to the quarry after school!-mike

It’s a good day to be gay

Next time u get drunk enough 2 facetime us reading the entire bee movie script pls invite us so we dont have 2 deal w/ that sober- b+m

Buy more cigs and weed

U lewk hott big sexxxi ;) - xoxo

Richie was unashamed to say he wrote the last one to himself one day when he looked particularly good.

He struggled to stuff his history folder into the looming mess, but eventually crammed it in there, slamming the door shut before anything else could fall out.

After checking that he did indeed have his lighter, bag of weed, and papers in his denim jacket, Richie made his way to their usual spot. They liked to smoke at the stairs behind the art room, which was tucked away in the back of the school, overlooking the field that separated them and the middle schoolers.

Throwing open the orange door to the stairs in his usual dramatic fashion, he found his two closest friends, “Ms. Marsh, Lord Michael, how fare thee chaps today?” Richie greeted in his (awful) british accent.

Beverly Marsh rolled her eyes as she lit her joint, “Fine, until I heard that horrible voice.”

Richie threw a hand on his chest, a pained expression painted on his face, “Oh, how you hurt me so.”

“Hey, I mean it is his best impression,” Mike Hanlon commented from the steps, fist bumping Richie as he sat down across from Beverly on the top of the stairs, back to the railing. The sweet boy lit up the bowl in his pipe, inhaling deeply.

“Aw, thank you Mikey, you sure know how to make a girl swoon,” he cooed, mimicking a southern belle.

“Well, you don’t really have any good one’s in the first place,” Mike smirked, blowing out the smoke in his mouth while Beverly snorted, taking another drag.

Richie rolled his eyes, taking out his bag of weed, “Fuck off Hanlon.”

Mike extended an olive branch in the form of paper lunch bag filled with a sandwich, chips, and a can of coke. It was a daily occurrence for them— the Tozier’s rarely had any food, and even if Richie wanted to eat from the cafeteria, he didn’t exactly get a lot of money from them.

“My upcoming munchies thank you dear friend.”

He opened his bag of weed, attempting to balance the paper on his knees so he could roll his own joint. This failed miserably as the weed fell out, getting all over his Radiohead t-shirt.

“Shit.”

Beverly sighed, holding out her hand, “Let me roll it Tozier, you and I both know I’m better at it anyways.”

“What?! I’m perfectly capable of doing it by myself. I roll a damn good joint Marsh,” he shot back incredulously.

She plucked a stray piece of weed and gave him a pointed look. Richie groaned before handing his stuff over, Beverly handing him her own joint to smoke on in the meantime.

“How’s your day been Rich?” Mike asked from his spot on the steps. Typical farm boy, concerned with his friends. Richie often wondered how such an angelic person hung out with him and Bev, but Mike had his fair share of rebellious traits.

“Ah, well, you can tell it’s been just dandy. I can’t wait till we get out of this fucking hell hole,” Richie scoffed before taking a hit.

“Only seven more weeks,” Beverly reminded, eyes and hands focused on rolling.

Mike nodded, “Crazy. Can’t believe we’re finally graduating.”

“Thank fucking god, Derry is a suffocating shithole,” he said, “I know I’m an idiot, but Jesus, everyone here is a fucking bigot.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, not saying much else. They understood. It was hard being one of the only black kids in school, let alone pansexual (although most people didn’t know this about him). The prejudice he faced wasn’t something he often spoke about, trying to be as positive as possible.

“This kid in english was saying bisexuals are sluts today,” Richie successfully blew a few smoke rings, “Like, I am one, but not because of my sexuality, asswipe.”

Bev laughed humorlessly, handing Richie the freshly rolled joint and taking back her own, “No need to tell me what that’s like.”

No, the redhead had been getting called a slut over nothing since the seventh grade; the rumors and shaming only getting worse when she too came out as bi.

A comfortable and reflective silence fell over the three, occupied with their thoughts and getting high. Richie placed the joint in between his chapped lips; struggling to light the tip as his white lighter sputtered, on it’s last moments of life. Mumbled expletives fell out of his mouth before he was successful, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in before letting it all escape.

His dark brown eyes scanned the poorly maintained sports field, filled mostly with middle schoolers running around and yelling. Part of him envied the carefree nature of it all, but the other remembered how fucking shitty middle school was and any jealousy washed away.

Not too far from them was what was dubbed as ‘the kissing tree’. The old trunk was littered with carvings, initials surrounded by hearts claiming that their love was ‘forever’. It was juvenile, small town as fuck, and heteronormative— though most things surrounding romance in Derry were.

Of course, Richie had been obsessed with it as a preteen, and knew his own name was on there (a few times).

What caught his eye now were the couple under it, making out passionately, flush against one another, like if they stopped they’d die.

Honestly, that would be preferable, as one of them was Gretta Keene, one of Richie’s biggest mistakes.

Gretta was one of the most popular girls in school, and she was also a grade A bitch. Her green eyes sent glares akin to daggers, and her lipgloss covered lips provided insults that went too far. Including frequently calling Beverly a slut.

It wasn’t like Richie had a huge crush on her or anything. Their relationship was merely born from constantly being at the same parties, cross faded and wanting a quick hook up to distract themselves. Mike had commented that it was only a matter of time, except one became many more, despite the fact that Gretta only got with jocks.

Their arrangement caused Bev to freeze Richie out for two months last semester, breaking their four year streak for best couples costume at Betty Ripsom’s annual Halloween Party. Bev was more important to him by a long shot, but per usual, he kept fucking everything up.

Most of their ‘moments’ were shared in some stranger's bed, or dancing in a kitschy living room to pop music, sharing a blunt or swigs from a bottle of whiskey. None of it was on purpose, but rather a byproduct of being intoxicated and having a high sex drive.

In fact, they had only been on two actual dates when they were together. The first was at the drive-in a town over, the pair sat in Richie’s beat up station wagon, some shitty b-movie playing on the large projector. Gretta shared a pack of cigarettes with him, and it was probably the only kind thing she had ever done. Richie tried to make conversation, so that their relationship actually had some sort of substance other than weed and alcohol; but Gretta quickly shut him up, sticking her cherry coke flavored tongue down his throat.

He took her out to his favorite diner for their other date, figuring that they might have a chance to actually get to know one another without an acceptable place to make out. They sat on opposite sides of a booth outlooking Main street, an old-timey song playing on the jukebox.

This plan proved to be a grave mistake, because Richie finally understood why Bev often said, “Satan himself thinks Gretta Keene is too cruel.”

He repressed the memory, if he remembered it he’d get too pissed off. Instead, Richie thought of their break-up, how she had beat him to the punch.

He had been waiting at her locker, leaning against #405 and picking at his nails, humming a song by The Smiths under his breath. Gretta approached, clad in a pink mini-skirt and a tight crop top, smacking her half-priced bubblegum.

Richie cleared his throat, standing upright, ready to chew her the fuck out for being such a horrible person, “Gretta, let’s talk—“

“We’re through Tozier.”

“What the fuck?!” He had gaped at her, “No, I was going to breakup with you!”

Gretta shooed him away with her manicured hands, “Please, you’re a fucking nobody. Irrelevant. You should be glad we even fucked around this long.”

A small crowd had formed around the two, “You’re the one who kept coming back for more.”

“And you’re the one who actually thought this could be something. So cute. But I don’t date losers and I don’t date attention-whores like you.”

Like he said, grade A bitch.

“Jealous?” Mike snapped Richie from his thoughts.

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that he was caught staring, “What? No. I pity the poor bastard that’s with her. Fucking breath smells like a fucking dog ate a pack of Winston’s. Straight up ass.”

Beverly chuckled, but her eyes held a little bit of resentment, “You used to smoke those Winston’s with her.”

“I thought we had an agreement that we would never speak of the Great Gretta Keene Mistake again?”

“Sure, but you’re the one watching her,” Mike pointed out, packing a new bowl, “Missing the one that got away?”

The other boy’s tone was joking but Richie sent him a glare, “She’s fucking irrelevant to me okay?”

They hummed in agreement, but he could see the slight doubt on their faces.

Richie ripped open his bag of chips and threw one in his mouth, “She thinks she’s such hot fucking shit, but she’s so replaceable.”

“Richie, it’s rude to speak with your mouth full,” Mike admonished his bad manners.

“That’s not what your ol’ pops said last night when I was suck-“

“Beep beep, Richie,” Mike warned.

Bev shook her head, “Really Rich? His grandpa?”

“When opportunity strikes,” he flashed a shit eating grin before taking another hit.

“Anyways, while I second the sentiment that Gretta isn’t all that, you haven’t exactly had a relationship since her,” Bev accused.

“Okay, what the fuck is this, ‘pick on Richie day’?” he said, readjusting his position, “Besides, I’ve been with plenty of other people.”

“Please, this isn’t middle school, and I’m still not buying the whole ‘my bedpost is covered in notches’ bit,” Bev inspected the joint between her fingers, now just a stub.

“Well, obviously it’s not. I’ve had sex in many different beds. Yours included,” Richie smirked.

“Beep beep. You know you aren’t allowed over after you almost burned down my aunt’s apartment.”

“The apartment was fine. Everyone knows if you put the temperature up super high food cooks faster. Those tater-tots would’ve been delicious. Bon-appetit,” Richie spoke in a poor french accent, and his eyes widened, “Bon-appetot. Bon-appetatertot.”

He fell into a fit of giggles and Mike chuckled across from him.

“You are a walking disaster Richie Tozier,” Bev said, though an amused smile sat on her lips.

“Richie’s poor life choices aside… One night stands and drunken make out sessions don’t count,” Mike returned to their previous topic, “I mean something sort of serious. Something you put effort into.”

“I don’t put effort into anything Michael dear,” Richie countered.

“Not true. You put effort into a lot of dumb shit,” Bev put out her joint, “Like when you tried to climb the water tower at 3 am naked. Or the time you tried to get the principal to grind with you at homecoming.”

“You can’t blame me for that. Mrs. Marton is a vixen. Can’t believe she resisted my charms.”

Mike laughed, shaking his head, “Point is, it kinda seems like you’re stuck in a rut.”

“I get plenty of action,” Richie boasted, taking a drag from his joint, “Plus, I could make any girl or guy in this piece of shit school fall in love with me.”

“That a bet?” Bev grinned mischievously.

“You know what, why the fuck not?” Richie shrugged. He was bored, and he wanted his friends off his fucking back, “Terms and conditions?”

“Mike and I get to choose the sorry fuck who you’ll be pursuing—“

“No, I don’t wanna be a part of this. Isn’t it kinda fucked up? Getting with someone for a bet? Why don’t you just try to date someone without an ulterior motive?” Mike suggested.

Richie rolled his eyes, adopting an Australian accent, “Now where’s the fun in that mate?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You get till prom to sweep this person off their feet. A committed relationship, not just a hookup. If you win I’ll get you a shit ton of the finest weed the county can offer,” Bev continued, “If you lose—“

“No need to tell me, because I won’t fail,” Richie smirked, “I’m a total knockout.”

Bev’s face mirrored his own, “Fine, it’s your funeral.”

Both of them spit into their palms before shaking their hands, bonding the bet.

“C’mon, let’s go find them— you only have six weeks.”

The three of them packed up their shit, passing around the rest of Richie’s joint so it wouldn’t go to waste before they headed inside. Bev spritzed some perfume on them in an attempt to mask the smell of weed, making Richie smell fruity and floral. He popped a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth, deciding to save his sandwich for AP Calc next block.

It was a rare occurrence for them to roam the halls before the lunch bell rang, so a few of the students stared at them as they went on their search. Mike smiled at just about everyone they passed, a fucking angel per usual.

“What about him, he’s kinda cute,” Bev suggested, nodding her head to a blonde boy holding a skateboard.

Richie shook his head, “We made out at that beach bonfire over the summer. He almost vommed in my fucking mouth. The money maker! These beautiful lips are fuckin sacred— how could I smooch and tell amazing jokes if he fucked em up? These babies ooze charisma and sex appeal.”

“More like ooze bullshit,” Mike quipped.

“I think you’re just jealous that you won’t be the one I’m wooing Mike n Ike.”

Bev snorted, “I pity the poor fuck who you’ll be annoying till prom,” her eyes lit up, and she turned to Mike, “Hey, we might be able to enjoy some peace and quiet for a while!”

“The minute we became best friends with Richie I gave up all hope for tranquility.”

“Hey!” He protested, although Mike was right.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the other boy finished sweetly.

Richie planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, “Oh Mikey, you are the most wholesome-est boy I ever did meet,” he slipped into his southern belle persona, “What about you Bevvy darlin’, got any words to butter up my biscuit? To milk my udder?”

She rolled her eyes and continued walking ahead of them, turning into another hallway.

“Fine, I know you love me Marsh,” Richie used his long lanky legs to his advantage, catching up to stroll alongside her quickly, “What about Betty Ripsom?”

Bev scoffed, “Please, too easy.”

“What?! She’s like, a good ol’ Christian girl. I’m a deviant! My skype username used to be tozier666! Or wait, it was tozier42069… I can’t remember.”

“C’mon Richie, we all know she had a massive crush on you freshman year,” Bev replied.

Mike nodded in agreement, “You wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Like most things,” Bev said, “Anyways, you’d just use that to your advantage. Although, I am liking the whole ‘polar opposite’ approach.”

Richie groaned, of course he had a hand in his own misfortune.

They continued to travel the halls, Beverly’s baby blue eyes scouring for a victim.

“You sure are digging your own grave today Rich,” Mike commented.

Richie nodded, “R.I.P. Richard Tozier. Big Mouth and even Bigger Wan—“

“Found ‘em,” Bev interrupted, a grin on her face.

She pointed down the hallway in front of them, where two boys conversated as everyone walked around them. The taller one had auburn hair, and was lanky like Richie, although the other boy seemed a little more muscular. The other looked like a fucking middle schooler, and Richie wasn’t sure how the little brat even got in there.

It took a minute, but Richie realized that he did actually recognize them. They didn’t interact much, not being in the same circles, but the two boys had been going to school with him since the days of recess. And they had been bullied since then too.

So, correction, she pointed to where two of the biggest losers in school were talking about what was presumably some nerdy shit. Great.

“What, Big Bill?” Richie raised an eyebrow, “He’s not too bad. Ignore the stutter and the fact that he’s best friends with total dorks and you have a shy lil cutie. Nice handiwork Marsh.”

“You know, you’re a total dork and we’re still friends with you,” Mike quipped, his own way of chastising Richie.

Bev shook her head ‘no’, “Not Denbrough, the other one.”

Richie’s eyes settled on the smaller boy, and the realization that he was totally and utterly fucked set in.

Eddie Kaspbrak. The kid peaked at 5’6, and his lack of muscles along with the fact that he wore an honest to fucking god fanny pack didn’t help his 12 year old boy appearance. Of course, the fanny pack got worse— it was full of pills, eye drops, hand sanitizer, lotion, chapstick, and most importantly, his inhaler. Yes, Eddie was a fucking asthmatic hypochondriac and germaphobe, with an equally insane mother. Richie didn’t doubt that the asshole spent more time perusing WebMD than texting or checking social media.

He wore chunky turtlenecks in the winter, and in the hotter months, his tanned legs adorned tube socks and short-shorts (they were awful, although Richie had to admit they made his ass look great). His small hands gripped onto his stuffed backpack (kid already had a fanny pack full of shit, what else did he have to bring to school?). Eddie’s brown hair was always found in a overly gelled comb over, not a hair out of place. He reminded Richie of an off-brand Fred Savage with severe anxiety.

Mostly, Richie knew Eddie Kaspbrak would hate just about every little thing he did. There was no way they’d even be friends, let alone anything more.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me Bev.”

a/n: thanks for reading!!! richie and eddie will actually talk next chapter, don't worry. also for any concerned about the gretta/richie thing it's not Too Big of a Deal as it is in the movie, i just need it for some plot points (but overall richie is like 100% over gretta and it was just something stupid he did).

#reddie #richie x eddie #it fic #reddie fic #he's all that #my fic #yeah idk what to tag this as go read it on ao3 wlnglerngerlgknrglkerng

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dreams-and-mem-ories · 3 years

Text

Mirrorball | 2.

|| Dream (continued)

Her gaze slides eloquently over the room and then stops when she notices the masked man in dark cherry red staring up at her from afar. Her smirk only grows and she is unable to conceal her excitement. Turning back, she grabs the hand of Katie, who shows herself behind the railing in a strapless two-piece dress that matches Jack’s ensemble perfectly. The two make their way down the stairs, and Tyler can’t seem to take his eyes off of Arcadia, almost like he’s mesmerized by her presence. The gown she wears falls beautifully to the floor and trails down the steps behind her in smooth waves of silk. It is navy blue to pair with Steve, and embellished with silver beading. Around her neck she wears royal sapphires, welded together with diamonds on a sleek steel chain, and her delicate mask is garnished with a pearlesque design.

Nervously, Tyler takes a sharp breath in, and wipes his sweaty palms on the sides of his trousers. He loses sight of her as she merges with the crowd, and his brain goes wild with enthusiasm, trying to think of the right things to say when she approaches him. As he is straightening himself out, he adjusts the tie around his neck, and Lane glances at him with a small teasing smile.

The sound of Arcadia’s voice sends an exhilarated chill down his spine and he chews the inside of his lip, trying not to smile as she comes into his view once again. She makes her way through their small clique, letting go of Katie, hugging Jack and Lane, and kissing both of them on their cheeks. Then she stands still for a moment, and time seems to do the same for Tyler. The world is moving in slow motion as she lifts the skirt of her gown to perform a small curtsy for him. In return, Tyler finally lets himself show a smile and bows at her, arm bent over his midsection as he bends the best he can with only one leg to fully support him.

There are so many things he wishes to say, and each of his thoughts are comprised of all the different charming words he could use; You are shimmering, beautiful, stunning, marvelous, captivating… But all he can manage to say is: “You’re here.”

She breathes, almost as if she’s relieved and responds, “Of course I am.”

He reaches forward, gently taking her hand in his, and lifts it to his lips, placing a small, soft kiss on the back of her palm.

Arcadia can’t help but giggle, feeling a rosey blush wash over her face. “Fancy sharing a dance with me later?” she asks, sliding her fingers out of his.

“I can’t dance,” Tyler’s gaze falls onto the dreaded leg brace, almost forgetting it was there until this moment.

She purses her lips, tilting her head, but refuses to even glance where his eyes have gone. “Anyone can dance,” she tells him, brow raised. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out on the floor… eventually.”

As the light music continues to be played for the room, Tyler takes a step back to observe his friends in their happiness. He has not witnessed them like this for what feels like an eternity, and today is like the bittersweet end to a not-so-wonderful year long endeavor. He has not seen Steve so much as crack a smile in months, but tonight he is grinning ear to ear as he catches up with Jack, cracking jokes and telling stories as a blush covers both their cheeks. Lane and Arcadia pick up right where they left off, something that befuddles Tyler to say the least. It is as though none of the bad things had happened, and the two never once felt betrayed by the other. Katie is happy, Jack is happy, Lane is, Steve is, Arcadia too, and then he is. Tyler Eiden Starvos is at peace for the first time in a very long time, and he never expected it to happen in a place like this.

The tune is picking up now and Lane is off with Jack, finding a spot on the open dance floor to spin him around and laugh when he nearly stumbles over. Arcadia joins them with Katie by her side, the two dancing very closely and throwing flirty banter back and forth with one another. Tyler assumes his position to watch them from the sidelines, grinning to himself and almost wishing he were one of them.

Steve approaches to his right, raising his voice over the music as he asks, “Can I get you anything? A drink, or something to-”

“No, thank you.” Tyler’s eyes finally move away from the crowd, “I am quite alright.”

The Captain nods, adjusting the mask on his face in an awkward sort of way.

“It is a beautiful room, don’t you think?” Tyler tries to strike up a conversation, turning his head to look around once more.

“Huh? Oh, yes.” Steve nods and slides his hands into the pockets of his trousers, “It’s a shame, really.”

Tyler’s brows come together and he glances back at the man, confused, “How so?”

“Well because it’s all a dream, kid.” The response reaches Tyler like it’s coming through long winding tunnels and Steve’s voice echoes, almost like he’s speaking from across an empty cave, or through some heavily reverberated telecom. The words almost don’t make any sense, but Steve says them so matter-of-factly, that Tyler considers them to be true.

The two meet eyes once again, only this time the Captain is not the same man he was a moment ago. He is rugged and dirty, bearded with dark circles beneath his eyes. His clothes are worn down and unwashed and the back of his hand is terribly bruised as he raises it to his face-- but then in an instant he is Steve again, dressed in his dapper suit, clean, hair slicked back and hands healed, smiling widely as he watches Arcadia spin Katie around on the dance floor. The morbid sight only lasts for a second, and in that second it unsettles Tyler deeply, but as soon as the illusion is over and the Captain is back to normal, the two return to their conversation as though nothing ever happened.

“I’ve always liked the stained glass windows. Reminds me of a church I went to in Germany,” Steve lifts his chin to direct attention to the tall, beautifully colored panes that send warm evening light cascading through in a marvelous array of beams.

Tyler tilts his head upward to admire the glasswork, getting lost in the beautiful spectrum it produces. There are so many colors for his eyes to appreciate, and he leans over to tell this to Steve, but when his gaze returns, Arcadia is standing there instead. Startled, Tyler loses his train of thought as the world seems to move in slow motion once again and he wonders how she can make him feel this way.

“Dance with me,” she says, offering her hand.

He hesitates, “I’m not sure I-”

Arcadia hushes him by gently taking his arm, and leading him to the center of the ballroom. The music is softer now, melodic and smooth. It reminds Tyler of honey and other sweet things, and he can’t help but feel pink-red while listening to it with her standing in front of him.

Getting closer to him now, Arcadia places her hands on Tyler’s shoulders, and glances downward to make sure he is standing up alright. He watches her do this, and nods his head when their eyes meet again, as if to tell her he’s okay.

“Can I..?” she begins, reaching down to lift one of his hands. He doesn’t object as she moves it to rest on the small of her back, but his heart races when she does this. Once he settles into this position, she teases, “See? Not so bad.”

A soft: “Mhm,” is all that Tyler can manage to respond with in his nervousness. It’s not that he feels uncomfortable in Arcadia’s presence, it is more the overbearing fear of his lame leg giving out from underneath him and the anticipation of terrible embarrassment.

She seems to read this on his face and gives his free hand a reassuring squeeze with hers opposite. “Don’t worry. We’ll go slow,” she says and then jokingly remarks: “It is a slow dance, after all.”

A short breath comes from Tyler’s nose as a small smile pulls at his lips. Her words have sparked some confidence in him, and he stands up straighter, fastening his arm tighter around her waist, ready for their dance to begin.

The two start to move, swaying in time with the soft beat. Arcadia finds herself grinning at the tune and Tyler continues to glance down at his feet, trying his best to follow hers. After a few moments, he gets the hang of it and even manages to spin her underneath his raised arm.

She giggles as she faces him again, “Look at you! Out here, dancing with the regulars...”

His hand returns to her back and he says over the music, “I am dancing with you, and you are not like the regulars.”

“No?” Her head tilts to the side and she looks into his eyes.

“Not at all.” Tyler’s expression falls, and he pulls Arcadia into a gentle embrace. He sighs against the side of her head, a sadness in the breath he lets out. Her arms wrap tightly around his neck as she deepens their hug, producing the same sort of woeful sigh. There is a mutual headache felt between them that alerts the floodgates behind their two pairs of varicolored eyes. It is a raw feeling they share in this moment. One of dread, longingness, and inimitable sadness, as Tyler comes to a harsh realization. Despite how real it feels to be in this desired reality, it is truly nothing more than a dream, a hope, a wish. The way Steve’s appearance had faltered, the way Arcadia and Lane could be the best of friends again, it is all so impossible, and it tears so harshly at the two of them to know that this is how things could have been, but now never will be.

“What are you doing, Tyler?” Arcadia whispers into his shoulder, and somehow he can hear her over the melody that still plays. She pulls away to meet the perplexed and terribly sorrowful look on his face and then continues, “You know this is just a dream.”

Almost desperately, Tyler holds Arcadia's hands in his and presses them to his lips, shaking his head in denial, “I don’t want it to be,” he mumbles into their entwined fingers, and his voice comes out in a soft, broken timbre. He knows it is true, he knows she is correct, but he just can't accept it. The night is so perfect some might say it is too good to be true, and it is. He does not want to wake up from this one.

Arcadia pulls her hands away, slowly and gently, like she’s afraid she’ll break Tyler’s heart if she moves any faster. As much as she also wishes she could stay with him, she knows a goodbye is what he needs, and closure is what this dream has all been for. The chance to see everyone he loves as they once were: happy, lighthearted, and so full of love.

So, as the music dies down and the masquerade revelers fade away, Tyler Eiden Starvos stands there with his butterfly, tempted to beg her not to go. However, he stays quietly put.

“I love you, jellyfish,” she says to him, hands folded behind her back as she takes another step away from him.

He swallows hard and almost goes after her, but instead he just mutters, “I know you do.” His voice is quiet, but then he raises it once more to say, “Arcadia?!” He calls to her as she finally turns her back to him.

His butterfly freezes.

A sharp breath in. Tyler knows he would forever kick himself if he did not say these words in this moment, so finally, he says them: “I love you too.”

With that authentic almond smirk dressing her face, she slowly disappears, leaving him standing completely alone, crestfallen in the middle of the ballroom.

Hanging his head, Tyler shambles over to the spiral staircase where he sits on the third step. His fingers slide beneath the mask that covers his eyes and it loosens as he stifles a cry, feeling the tears well up, but knowing they will never fall. Holding the mask between his fingers now, he traces his thumb over the gold trim of it. He is stalling, trying his best to stay in this dream for as long as he can, but what’s the use? His butterfly flew away in this reality too.

With one last heavy breath, the grieving young man, Arcadia’s jellyfish, friend and so much more stands up, numb leg shaking beneath his weight. With a weak flick of his wrist, he tosses the mask onto the floor at the front of the steps he had been sitting on. He feels the sting of salty tears in his eyes and the ache at the back of his skull that begs him to cry, but he doesn’t. He won’t. He can’t. Instead he shuffles over to the empty black piano, pulling out the seat. He places himself behind the keys and holds out both of his shaking hands. He closes them into tight fists and holds them in that pose for a just a moment, then releases. Their tremble ceases slightly, and he begins to play the song that’s on his mind, starting with a simple note on one key. He plays it three times, and then the music pours from him. Effortlessly, he sings and he plays as the room slowly fades into nothing but the backs of his eyelids.

#dream #mirrorball

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wannawrite · 6 years

Text

Type Of Boyfriend: Yoo Seonho

who?: Cube Ent / Pd101S2’s Yoo Seonho genre: 🌸 type: bullet point blog navigator. • how Yoo Seonho would be your boyfriend • with added Christmas spirit ahhh thank you for requesting @isaluciavevo this, it’s so long overdue I’m sorry Seonho is so freaking cute my heart can’t take this - Admin L

• hmm Yoo Seonho • 1/2 of my Cube chicks • y’all know this boy is wild • in the cutest way possible • Seonho goes to the same high school as you do, Cube International Academy • and he’s the vice-captain of the basketball team • captain - Lai Guanlin • Seonho is generally a bright and cheery person who doesn’t have trouble making friends • or keeping them • he practically knows the whole school • THAT Sophomore who is always hanging out with Seniors and Juniors • it’s also kind of pressing how a Sophomore is already the basketball captain • how shady • but that’s because Seonho enrolled into Cube because of his basketball skills • he was scouted when he was in middle school • and look where he is now • playing for one of the best high schools • talent • simply pure talent • can’t relate • but anyway • you’re new to Cube • you transferred over from C9 Academy • bye bye Jinyoung • and your transfer time was at a very odd time of the term • they decided to shove you in right when the last term started • which is around September and exams start in October • It isn’t the first time you’ve transferred schools but you didn’t exactly expect the principal to take ‘as soon as possible’ seriously • it was like they tossed you into the Lion’s Den with no prior warning • who gives prior warnings anyway.... • bad analogy but moving on • Cube is kind of intimidating no lie • there’s good looking and popular people everywhere • you feel out of place :( • luckily, Eunbin, the girl who is assigned to take care of you, is very sweet and introduces you to her friends too • even Wooseok, who sits next to her in class, welcomes you with open arms • you end up spending a lot of your first week with them • one day, you’re walking towards the cafeteria with Eunbin and Wooseok when a loud voice yells from behind • ‘HYUNG!’ ‘NOONA!’ • awkwardly, you stand to one side as a boy embraces his friends • it’s that weird thing when you’re with your friends • and they bump into their other clique • like • ‘uh hi idk if she’s been two-timing us’ • ‘who is the actual best friend.’ • ‘does she spend more time with me or you’ • except you can’t compare because you’ve only known people for two weeks • ahah • rip • take an L • sadly • ‘oh! Seonho, this is Y/N, they just transferred over from C9.’ Eunbin introduce, grinning from ear to ear • you smile shyly and wave • socialising 101 • Seonho brushes his fringe out of his eyes, beams brightly and waves back • HEART MELTED • his eyes just sparkle with happiness and they aren’t hidden by his huge spectacles • they’re too prominent • TOO BEAUTIFUL TO BE HIDDEN • ‘hey! Seonho, let’s go!’ A group of guys holding basketballs and dressed in their sports uniform shout • Seonho nods • ‘okay! I’ll see you around then guys. Welcome to Cube!’ • he skips away to join his friends • you’re left with your mind in a mess • honestly, he’s one of the cuter guys in your grade • actually, correction • the cutest guy you’ve ever seen • there’s no doubt about his physical handsomeness • not one • he’s good-looking, well-proportioned, has a sensible haircut • hair makes a HUGE difference • ‘oh!’ Eunbin clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. ‘you think he’s cute don’t you?’ • ‘n-no...’ • Wooseok ruffles your hair. ‘of course you do! you do! who can’t find him adorable?’ • ‘well, in THAT way but-‘ • ‘so you agree? you think he’s really cute?’ he teases more • You open and close your mouth several times, looking like a goldfish • ‘shut up.’ • Wooseok and Eunbin burst into laughter, playfully poking at you • you just wanted to eat lunch in peace, now look what happened :( • and they’re serving pizza today! • in the queue, Wooseok suddenly says, ‘how many times do you think Seonho or Guanlin queued up for pizza?’ • puzzled, you speak up. ‘aren’t we only entitled to one serving?’ • Wooseok just chuckles. ‘idk what goes on at C9 but this is Cube. no one will really pay attention if you take more than one plate, trust me, and I wouldn’t worry about Guan or Seonho, they’re pretty much Cube royalty’ • and that’s how you figured how popular and significant Seonho was • extremely • the next day, you found a sweet post-it stuck onto your locker • ‘y/n, hope you have a great day! talk to me if anything!’ • and there was also a bar of candy taped onto your door • your heart fluttered • madly, actually • you felt so special, like you owned the world • then, the boy next to you opened his locker and out came a similar looking note and a bar of chocolate • ‘awww! Seonho, he’s the sweetest.’ • o h • the boy collected his books and left with a bright smile on his face, ripping open the chocolate candy bar and tucking the post-it into his wallet • oh wow • your face flushed red and you crushed the post-it and shoved it to the very bottom of your backpack • you wish you could stuff your feelings back to wherever they came from • it was embarrassing to feel so special and close to someone you had barely made eye contact with • Seonho was just that guy who liked to present his friends with acts of his love and kindness • while he was incredibly popular, he was still humble and true to himself • cute • so so SO cute • NO SWEETIE YOU CAN’T FALL FOR HIM LIKE JUST THAT • N O • love at first sight :”) • you kind of dread today knowing that Seonho doesn’t share any classes with you • sigh • in science, Wooseok suddenly turns to you and asks, ‘hey, do you mind helping me return some books to the school library today? I would but Mr Kim called me up for math remedial and then I have basketball practice right after...’ • being the nice and kind friend you are, you agree to help him • ‘ah shit,’ he curses, realising he left the books in his locker. ‘can...you drop by the gymnasium later, I’ll pass them to you.’ • shrugging, you reply, ‘yeah sure, I need to talk to some of my club seniors anyway,’ • ‘thanks! you’re the best!’ • you don’t think anything of it until lunch, after consulting your squad - who screams • ‘why?’ • ‘wOOsEOk asKED yOu tO waTCH hIS PRActIce!’ • ‘....no I’m just getting stuff from him aiya what the heck...’ • ‘no way, Wooseok isn’t like this. Did Eunbin not introduce Seonho to you yesterday?’ • ‘iT MUST BE SEONHO.’ • and that’s how everyone started shipping you two • pls be rational, logical friends • you realise slyWooseok isn’t one of those people when you arrive at the gym • and he dumps a whole pile of books in your arms • you know your arms are bound to break • and the library is on the 4th floor, not in the same block • ‘WOO-‘ • ‘THANK YOU’ he yells, running back to join his team • even though they’re getting a 10 minute break • sighing, you sluggishly stumble out of the gym • ‘here,’ • YOO SEONHO STRIKES • ‘let me help you.’ • AsDFGHJKL • he won’t take your refusals and talks to you along the way • in the end, he smiles at you before bidding you goodbye • AND A NEW CONTACT IN YOUR PHONE • that’s how it started • you found yourself texting Seonho a lot • like • a lot • he was super sweet person to talk to • and often used cute emojis to talk • then if he got mad about something, he would leave you on ‘read’ until 10 minutes later • I’m gonna try and do that ^ • it was such a casual thing when you guys started dating • literally • but your heart was pounding, even hours after he had asked you out • it was right after your final paper • btw, Seonho stayed and studied with you until the library closed when you were cramming • and he also helped you with notes and whatnot • Eunbin and Wooseok even made a bet to see how long it would take for you two to start dating • the cutest tbh • and once he asked you • you said • YES • and then you got to know a lot more people in your grade, older and younger students • how cool • Seonho always gave you his basketball team jacket to wear at games • he was so shy the first time he asked you • it was right after his practice and you were waiting for him near the school gate • he came out of the locker room, trembling hands holding onto his jacket • subtly • ‘h-hey b-babe,’ he stammers • listen • this boy RARELY stutters, he always can find a good excuse or make up something on the spot • you know he’s serious about something • ‘can...c-can you w-wear my jacket to my game this Saturday? if...i-if y-you’re planning to g-go of course!’ he adds quickly, while a blush fills his face • there was no way you were going to pass up the opportunity • and that’s when your relationship was announced to the general public • but who was shocked? • everyone saw it coming • you guys are too cute as a couple to go unnoticed • Seonho is a lowkey sucker for PDA • like the boy will make his relationship KNOWN • it’s the little things that matters • a small peck on the cheek • the way your hand fits in his • sometimes you really want to kiss his forehead but this boy is like a 6’0 giraffe and unless you’re at least 5’11.5 that’s a bit of a struggle • rip me I’m 5’4.5 • I think • he just giggles and bends down so you can kiss him comfortably • or you’re 6’5 and height has never really been a problem • oh, I envy • he will hug you out of nowhere • back hugs • side hugs • front hugs • hugs you and spins you around • collapses into your arms hugs • yes, expect clinginess and extensive skinship • but you love it • you guys don’t argue much unless it’s something roughly related to life or death • you can see the fury in Seonho’s eyes but he just locks himself in a room for a good hour to get the rationality back • maybe that’s the secrets to a good relationship • he doesn’t hold back on the ‘L word’ either • you first said it a good year into the relationship • he said it in a good month • it was the weekend right after his team won a major championship and you took him out for pizza • he said I love you after you promised to pay for the pizza he wanted • but he really means it • dates with him could be quite adventurous and spontaneous • ‘yo, let’s go on a date today.’ • ‘ok. just let me cancel this thing first.’ • it’s either you guys go to the amusement park the time it opens to nightfall • or you go there, take one ride and leave • Seonho could also be the guy who likes cafe dates • not cafe hopping but • you guys could pinpoint a particular place • go there for a couple of dates to try everything you like on the menu • before moving on to another place • on 1 December, Seonho burst into your house and woke you up by singing to Christmas carols • enthusiasts about the holiday • buys matching ugly Christmas sweaters • he tried to DIY ones with you but they weren’t the best • you wear them to sleep though, because don’t waste comfy sweaters • present wise, if you send him a list of things you want/need, he might get all of them just for you • compliments you all the time • but if that shirt is ugly, that shirt is ugly • Seonho tries to teach you how to play ‘Jingle Bells’ on the piano • it involved a lot more hand-holding than you thought • his passion for music is admirable • just watching him immerse himself in the piano can make anyone cry • and the fact that he wants to involve you in something he holds so close to his heart • C R Y ME A RIVER • when it snows, it’s either you two snuggle by the fireplace • or engage in a deathly snowball fight outside • Guanlin and Wooseok joined you guys once • Guanlin nearly had to go to the ER after • Seonho likes to build snowmen with you • only with you • even though it didn’t look like a picture perfect Olaf, he was so proud of it and took a dozen polaroids • all in all, Seonho is a super supportive boyfriend, loves skinship • he can get annoyingly clingy and sometimes sensitive • but you guys always work it out • because love is love • you learn more about Seonho everyday • he will warm up and open up to you, don’t worry • you love him • like c’mon, he helped you decorate a whole ass Christmas tree then let you put the star on top • this is marriage • happy holidays!

#produce 101 #produce 101 scenarios #cube entertainment #cube chicks #cube trainees #yoo seonho

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powderedwhiteviolets · 7 years

Note

1 through 150 except the ones you said are off limits or something, love u fam

ok but i’m still a bit dizzy and tired so some answers might be short

1. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU HELD HANDS WITH?

I don’t hold hands with anyone, that’s not a thing i do….2. ARE YOU OUTGOING OR SHY?

Shy

3. WHO ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING?

Nobody4. ARE YOU EASY TO GET ALONG WITH?

Yes but only if your worth my time5. IF YOU WERE DRUNK WOULD THE PERSON YOU LIKE TAKE CARE OF YOU?

Hypothetically yes6. WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE ARE YOU ATTRACTED TO?

Twisted and crazy individuals (not so much dangerous crazy, though that could be fun)7. DO YOU THINK YOU’LL BE IN A RELATIONSHIP TWO MONTHS FROM NOW?

pfft no way 8. WHO FROM THE OPPOSITE GENDER IS ON YOUR MIND?

That’s none of your concern10. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU HAD A DEEP CONVERSATION WITH?

I don’t do deep conversations, especially not with my friends. Why would anyone want to ruin a perfectly good friendship with a bunch of emotional and moral crap?11. WHAT DOES THE MOST RECENT TEXT THAT YOU SENT SAY?

“Sorry about that. I’m going out to Don Don and maybe QV so i’ll be home a little later”12. WHAT ARE YOUR 5 FAVORITE SONGS RIGHT NOW?

Carousel, World is Mine, MiMiMi, How to be a Heartbreaker and Control13. DO YOU LIKE IT WHEN PEOPLE PLAY WITH YOUR HAIR?

Random person on the train? Fuck no. Friend? Ok as long as you don’t hurt me14. DO YOU BELIEVE IN LUCK AND MIRACLES?

Yeah, i do, it’s silly and childish but whatever.15. WHAT GOOD THING HAPPENED THIS SUMMER?

Finally got to escape an abusive household, lotta great memes as well around about that time.17. DO YOU THINK THERE IS LIFE ON OTHER PLANETS?

That’s not something i ever think about.18. DO YOU STILL TALK TO YOUR FIRST CRUSH?

See, this one is odd because a lot of people in my life believe that the guy i liked in Year 8 was my first crush, which is actually not true, there was one before him but i just never told anyone about it. In any case i don’t talk about him to other people.19. DO YOU LIKE BUBBLE BATHS?

YES LET ME DROWN IN BUBBLES20. DO YOU LIKE YOUR NEIGHBORS?

I’ve only met one of my neighbours, she’s a very nice lady. The others i have never spoken a single word to, in fact i don’t even know if anyone lives in the house across the road. As for my Dad’s neighbours, i’ve never met any of them but weeks ago was awoken at 1 AM IN THE FREAKING MORNING by two of them arguing and another banging on the door of their apartment.21. WHAT ARE YOU BAD HABITS?

Only biting my nails22. WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRAVEL?

Russia, Japan, America, France, Denmark, UK, South Korea23. DO YOU HAVE TRUST ISSUES?

Yes.24. FAVORITE PART OF YOUR DAILY ROUTINE?

Hanging with my awesome friends at school25. WHAT PART OF YOUR BODY ARE YOU MOST UNCOMFORTABLE WITH?

All of it nah jk i’m cool with most of it but i do sometimes wish i hadn’t gained so much weight. Then instead of do something about it i eat a chocolate bar. At this point i think it’s just a right of passage for teenage girls to be uncomfortable with their bodies. 26. WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU WAKE UP?

Whine about waking up.27. DO YOU WISH YOUR SKIN WAS LIGHTER OR DARKER?

I’m fine with looking like a vampire most days28. WHO ARE YOU MOST COMFORTABLE AROUND?

I would say my friends but that wouldn’t be entirely true29. HAVE ANY OF YOUR EX’S TOLD YOU THEY REGRET BREAKING UP?

Depends who you count as an Ex >.> fucking hell i hate remembering that

30. DO YOU EVER WANT TO GET MARRIED?

Already answered this in a previous ask, short answer is yes31. IS YOUR HAIR LONG ENOUGH FOR A PONY TAIL?

My hair is long enough to put in odango so no shit it’s long enough for a ponytail32. WHICH CELEBRITIES WOULD YOU HAVE A THREESOME WITH?

Fuck i should have just ruled this question out as well….33. SPELL YOUR NAME WITH YOUR CHIN.

no34. DO YOU PLAY SPORTS? WHAT SPORTS?

I’m not athletically inclined in the least, why the fuck would i play sports35. WOULD YOU RATHER LIVE WITHOUT TV OR MUSIC?

Without music36. HAVE YOU EVER LIKED SOMEONE AND NEVER TOLD THEM?

I would say “see Q18″ but whatever37. WHAT DO YOU SAY DURING AWKWARD SILENCES?

Nothing, i usually just leave38. DESCRIBE YOUR DREAM GIRL/GUY?

He would be someone who isn’t embarrassed to be my boyfriend, someone who respects my likes and dislikes, someone i could turn to for any reason, someone who i can share funny memes with, someone who can accept the fct that at times i might just burst out singing the fucking Pokemon theme song and just roll with it, someone who would be just as crazy as i am. I’d want him to be intelligent, smarter than i am yet doesn’t look down on me for not being able to measure up to him. I’d want to feel comfortable making dark jokes and not have him be freaked out and/or concerned. Of course, i’d want him to be concerned about my wellbeing as well but also respect my lifestyle choices. He doesn’t even have to like all or any of the things i like, as long as he cares about me, is good looking and a nice person to be around, then i’d be happy. 39. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE STORES TO SHOP IN?

Dangerfield mostly, other than that the rest of my clothes come from Target and Kmart.40. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO AFTER HIGH SCHOOL?

If you had asked me a week or two ago i would have said confidently “writer/director of animated television series” but i’ve realised how lazy i am/how unprepared for adult life i am/how co-dependant i am/how tired i am of life. 41. DO YOU BELIEVE EVERYONE DESERVES A SECOND CHANCE?

Not everyone, pedophiles for example don’t42. IF YOUR BEING EXTREMELY QUIET WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

I’m either bored, tired, observing the situation or just being socially awkward.43. DO YOU SMILE AT STRANGERS?

No, i don’t even look at strangers because i worry they’ll think i’m staring.44. TRIP TO OUTER SPACE OR BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN?

Outer Space45. WHAT MAKES YOU GET OUT OF BED IN THE MORNING?

A hot chocolate and sheer willpower 46. WHAT ARE YOU PARANOID ABOUT?

Everything47. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN HIGH?

No48. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN DRUNK?

Underage, no49. HAVE YOU DONE ANYTHING RECENTLY THAT YOU HOPE NOBODY FINDS OUT ABOUT?

Not really50. WHAT WAS THE COLOUR OF THE LAST HOODIE YOU WORE?

Purple. In fact i’m wearing it right now.51. EVER WISHED YOU WERE SOMEONE ELSE?

Yes, once many years ago52. ONE THING YOU WISH YOU COULD CHANGE ABOUT YOURSELF?

I wouldn’t be so chubby for start53. FAVOURITE MAKEUP BRAND?

I don’t wear makeup because it feels so fake. Who would want to cake their face with a bunch of powder and sludge?54. FAVOURITE STORE?

Minotaur. It’s a comic book shop we have down in Vic and it’s the only place you can get manga.55. FAVOURITE BLOG?

MY OWNNNNNNNN

nah i don’t have one 56. FAVOURITE COLOUR?

Silver and Purple57. FAVOURITE FOOD?

Cheesecake58. LAST THING YOU ATE?

A McDonalds sundae59. FIRST THING YOU ATE THIS MORNING?

Gourmet Strawberry Ice-cream60. EVER WON A COMPETITION? FOR WHAT?

I won a Halloween costume contest back in Year 6 (well technically tied with two other girls, but i won it really) as Sailor Moon.61. BEEN SUSPENDED/EXPELLED? FOR WHAT?

I was suspended from my last school for saying something along the lines of “can you shut the fuck up and let us explain” to the principal.Said event that had to be explained was my friends and i decision to skip Indonesian class (with that awful cow of a teacher) and hang in the girls bathrooms. Said teacher overreacted and called the principal on us.62. BEEN ARRESTED? FOR WHAT?

Never been arrested.63. EVER BEEN IN LOVE?

Yeah64. TELL US THE STORY OF YOUR FIRST KISS?

I was 5 and my friends 12 year old brother somehow conned me to go in our garage with him. He kinda just grabbed me and then kissed me. Wasn’t a nice experience looking back on it, especially since i think i got in trouble for it even though i didn’t ask for him to kiss me.65. ARE YOU HUNGRY RIGHT NOW?

Yes. I have a pizza in the oven.66. DO YOU LIKE YOUR TUMBLR FRIENDS MORE THAN YOUR REAL FRIENDS?

Nope! I like them all equally!67. FACEBOOK OR TWITTER?

Twitter. I can’t stand FB, and the only reason i still have it is so i can communicate with my Dad (something’s wrong with his phone where he can’t text me back)68. TWITTER OR TUMBLR?

Tumblr because i go on here more.69. ARE YOU WATCHING TV RIGHT NOW?

No.70. NAMES OF YOUR BESTFRIENDS?

Ashley, Ella (i have two best friends named Ella, they both go to different school though)71. CRAVING SOMETHING? WHAT?

A RED VELVET MAGNUM72. WHAT COLOUR ARE YOUR TOWELS?

Pink, Blue and Yellow72. HOW MANY PILLOWS DO YOU SLEEP WITH?

8 plus a second blanket that became another pillow when it became to hot to have it on in the summer. 73. DO YOU SLEEP WITH STUFFED ANIMALS?

Yes, unashamedly. I have my stuffed rabbit Silver, a sloth named Miku, another bigger rabbit named Kiko, two cats (Linda and i think Aramina)74. HOW MANY STUFFED ANIMALS DO YOU THINK YOU HAVE?

40, though most of them are on top my closet75. FAVOURITE ANIMAL?

Cat76. WHAT COLOUR IS YOUR UNDERWEAR?

Black with white polka dots77. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?

Vanilla78. FAVOURITE ICE CREAM FLAVOUR?

Fig/Marscapone or Cookies and Cream79. WHAT COLOUR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?

I’m wearing a blue Tweedy Bird nightgown80. WHAT COLOUR PANTS?

Pink, blue and white81. FAVOURITE TV SHOW?

Puella Magi Madoka Magica and A Series of Unfortunate Events82. FAVOURITE MOVIE?

Anastasia83. MEAN GIRLS OR MEAN GIRLS 2?

Mean Girls84. MEAN GIRLS OR 21 JUMP STREET?

Mean Girls since i’ve never seen 21 Jump Street85. FAVOURITE CHARACTER FROM MEAN GIRLS?

Karen Smith, since back when i was in my own mean girl clique i was her out of the group86. FAVOURITE CHARACTER FROM FINDING NEMO?

Dory, because she’s adorable and funny87. FIRST PERSON YOU TALKED TO TODAY?

My Mum 88. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO TODAY?

My Mum again89. NAME A PERSON YOU HATE?

Amy Schumer90. NAME A PERSON YOU LOVE?

My best friends91. IS THERE ANYONE YOU WANT TO PUNCH IN THE FACE RIGHT NOW?

Nobody really92. IN A FIGHT WITH SOMEONE?

Bit of an ongoing argument with my homeroom/English teacher at school. He thinks i’m some sort of genius child just because i handed in one A+ assignment even though i’m just an average teen.93. HOW MANY SWEATPANTS DO YOU HAVE?

None, sweatpants are ugly94. HOW MANY SWEATERS/HOODIES DO YOU HAVE?

995. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?

Enchanted96. FAVOURITE ACTRESS?

I don’t have one97. FAVOURITE ACTOR?

Johnny Depp98. DO YOU TAN A LOT?

I don’t tan, i burn99. HAVE ANY PETS?

One cat, Stanley100. HOW ARE YOU FEELING?

Tired101. DO YOU TYPE FAST?

Yes102. DO YOU REGRET ANYTHING FROM YOUR PAST?

Yes, a lot of trivial small things103. CAN YOU SPELL WELL?

Very well.104. DO YOU MISS ANYONE FROM YOUR PAST?

I miss my old best friend Eloise. She moved schools in Year 5 and soon after we lost contact. Apparently she lives in Singapore now according to my Mum.105. EVER BEEN TO A BONFIRE PARTY?

No106. EVER BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART?

Yes107. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON A HORSE?

Yes and it scared the shit out of me108. WHAT SHOULD YOU BE DOING?

An essay on Donald Trump and the backlash he’s gotten for his statements in the news and on social media, also a Cinderella and ASOUE MEP part, plus the project for Media class.109. IS SOMETHING IRRITATING YOU RIGHT NOW?

See past questions.110. HAVE YOU EVER LIKED SOMEONE SO MUCH IT HURT?

Yes, right now i like someone so much it hurts. Sorry to sound poetic but it’s a self inflicted hell.112. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU CRIED IN FRONT OF?

I don’t remember. Probably was awhile back. I usually feel i can only cry alone.113. WHAT WAS YOUR CHILDHOOD NICKNAME?

Lili and Mystery114. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN OUT OF YOUR PROVINCE/STATE?

Yes, multiple times115. DO YOU PLAY THE WII?

No116. ARE YOU LISTENING TO MUSIC RIGHT NOW?

Yes117. DO YOU LIKE CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP?

No118. DO YOU LIKE CHINESE FOOD?

Hell yeah119. FAVOURITE BOOK?

Childish choice but any of The Keepers books120. ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK?

Only in unfamiliar areas121. ARE YOU MEAN?

Yes122. IS CHEATING EVER OKAY?

No123. CAN YOU KEEP WHITE SHOES CLEAN?

No124. DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT?

Yes125. DO YOU BELIEVE IN TRUE LOVE?

Yes126. ARE YOU CURRENTLY BORED?

No127. WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY?

Not adhering to my responsibilities128. WOULD YOU CHANGE YOUR NAME?

Yes, to either my online persona name or my pen name129. WHAT YOUR ZODIAC SIGN?

Gemini130. DO YOU LIKE SUBWAY?

134. CAN YOU COUNT TO ONE MILLION?

Naw, i get bored before then135. DUMBEST LIE YOU EVER TOLD?

Any of my childhood lies, can’t name any specifics136. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED?

Closed137. HOW TALL ARE YOU?

Irrelevant138. CURLY OR STRAIGHT HAIR?

Slightly wavy139. BRUNETTE OR BLONDE?

Brunette140. SUMMER OR WINTER?

Winter141. NIGHT OR DAY?

Night142. FAVOURITE MONTH?

May143. ARE YOU A VEGETARIAN?

No144. DARK, MILK OR WHITE CHOCOLATE?

Milk Chocolate145. TEA OR COFFEE?

Tea146. WAS TODAY A GOOD DAY?

Yes147. MARS OR SNICKERS?

Mars148. WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE QUOTE?

“The future is in the past. ONWARDS AOSHIMA” - Mabel Pines

“Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold BYE” - Bill Cipher149. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS?

No.150. GET THE CLOSEST BOOK NEXT TO YOU, OPEN IT TO PAGE 42, WHAT’S THE FIRST LINE ON THAT

“When i get back to Tanglewood, my twin is perched on the gate waiting”

#asks #weeaboosupreme

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bang-me-bangtan-style · 7 years

Photo

CHAPTER TWELVE

WORD COUNT: 2621

⬇*A few years ago,...Flashback *⬇

SEHUN'S POV

Sehun's dreams OF FLASHBACKS while sleeping IN HOSPITAL*

Strange. Things were strange. And I only started noticing them. The way she would turn away when I try and hug her. The way she would try her best to get away from me when I would try and spend time with her. Just the little things you know. But people always notice the little things first you know?

At first I thought she had grown out of our brother and sister affection towards one another. The amount of time we used to spend together was getting thinner and thinner. But then she would give in sometimes so than I knew that that wasn't the case. Something was deeper than my assumptions, but I could quiet put my finger on it. I didn't quite understand either.

Recently, we started freshman year and she has been kind of distant, she even hangs out with a bunch of guys. Something I didn't like. After all she is my sister. Although Chanyeol and Kai were known as sluts I would allow her to still hang with me, them, and the rest of my crew. Because I knew them, plus if they would ever try anything funny I would beat their ass. But these new guys I didn't like them I didn't like them one bit.

Tao: he was a crybaby, and although he was older than Ana he called her Noona. But b if his friends got into with someone else he turned into a straight bad ass. Or so he thought.

Chen: he was a jokester just like my best friend Baekhyun but he was way too much. Although Ana favored him I didn't. He like to push your buttons and he had smart ass remarks which I could punch him for.

Lay: what a dumb ass. He always looked like he was high on something. He was dumb as shit. It is annoying and I could care less if I got shit for calling him out on it. I mean how can you be so stupid. Does he even pass his tests? How is he in the top of our classes? He clearly doesn't have the attention span of a student. More like an ant.

Kris: don't even get me started. Like ugh. *rolls his eyes* this dick. He is just like Kai and Chanyeol. Different girls all the time. Just you know... a slut. A man slut. Yeah, I know Chanyeol and Kai are like this but it's acceptable as long as they don't touch Ana but this...this Kris guy he looks at Ana like he wants to eat her up. He likes her, and knowing my sister she wouldn't even know. She's just as a dumb ass as lay.

Xiumin can I put this, he seems shy kind of like Kyungsoo. But not as weird as Kyungsoo. I don't know much about him but if I had to choose one of them to like Xuimin would be it.

Last but not least: Luhan.

Luhan was her best friend. All the girls swooned over the Chinese bastard and it grinned my gears to the point of no return. I remember when I first met him.

"Do you know where room 23 is?" Luhan looked at me confused at his schedule. His Korean coming out his mouth like butter, but I could still pick out flaws with in it.

First day I already new and I could see all the girls looking and whispering to see who the top student Oh Sehun was talking too. Instantly I got irritated and said. "I don't know I don't care." But ignoring the tone in my voice he followed me. " could you at least guess where I really need your help." I stopped right in front of him only steps away from where my sister and her friends stood. Lay and Tao were in a Chinese conversation while the other talked amongst themselves in Korean.

I stopped abruptly and turned to face the boy who was following me. "listen I have not a clue. there is about a thousand people that go to this school that could help you more than I could, I could point you back to the office..."

He stopped listening when he turned Tao and lay who were speaking in Chinese.

"嘿，你能帮助我吗？我迷路了。 (Hēi, nǐ néng bāngzhù wǒ ma? Wǒ mílùle.)" luhan asked them.

Google trans: hey I'm lost can you help me?

Tao and lays head snapped over to us and Ana noticed me and gave me that look of annoyance. Kris looked over to me last looking up from his phone and gave me that asshole look he gave everyone.

"什么，这个混蛋不帮助你吗？典型 (Shénme, zhège húndàn bù bāngzhù nǐ ma? Diǎnxíng)"Kris answered quickly snapping his head to me.

I glared at him unknowing what was said about me.

Google trans: what? Is this asshole not helping you? Typical.

"are you Chinese " Tao had called over to the new boy before he could answer Kris.

"Yes, and yes he isn't. could you help me find R23?" He said replying in Chinese, leaving me in a still spot as he walked over to them. I looked over at Ana whose attention was on that pretty new boy. I don't know why it pissed me off so bad the way it did, but it just did.

Me and Ana made eye contact and I felt the need to drag her away from her new friends and her now newest one. I would doubt he would hang with her and the Chinese gang. Yeah, they were all Chinese except two. But they might as well be Chinese considering they looked like it. They even spoke some of it moderately. even Ana picked up on it. How annoying.

I looked away from Ana and walked off before I punched Kris in the face for looking at me the way he was like I was out of place.

Still I would try. I would try and talk to her and try and spend time with her. But she wouldn't budge. I seemed to be completely blocked off. Every birthday was like forcing her to me when our parents threw party's. It was like a hassle for her. She hated it and you could tell. And she would invite the douche bags and hang with them. And of course, I would invited Kai and everybody. But still It was all about her friends. All my friends were her friends but she just didn't care about any of us anymore. And they started to notice asking me about it.

Can't even tell you how many times I would blow up on her and she would get angry back and tell me that she was her own person she didn't need me following her around. And that just because we were twins didn't mean that we were attached to the hip. Which we were defiantly not. We weren't even acquaintances at that time. Were kind of developed this hate for another. And from there on we treated another like trash.

Day in and day out she would be rude and so would I back. But the different between us both I would hurt when I was alone. She didn't how I knew. But because she showed how much she didn't care already why would she care after we would call another name and what not.

Our parents never noticed because we would put on a show. We would act like we were close but without the skin ship. I would call her sis and she would call me brother. But as soon as we were alone. It was " Sehun I hate you. Get out my life." And I would just agree back with what even I had in store that day.

The crew. Yeah, they noticed. Difference in her. I mean who couldn't see she had drooped me.us. just like that. She wanted nothing to do with me and the boys anymore. She was all about them Chinese bastards. And I hated it.

There were three big cliques in the school it used to be just two my clique and GDs clique big bang. But now that Ana had broken off from us, her friends were a group now the 3rd most popular clique. Making me pissed. We were fine with the rivalry one and two two not three. And get this Ana is the leader of her clique and whereas Suho is the leader of mine. *rolls his eyes in annoyance."

But whole point to my rant is that I still couldn't figure Ana out. I'm so confused. Girls are so confusing I just don't get it. I need a break she is hurting me. I miss my sister but clearly, she doesn't miss me. I just don't understand her. What did I do what did I say? And if I did say or do anything I take it back. I need her. I love Ana. But it seems she doesn't love me anymore.

MORE flash backs/sehuns dreams

Sehun looked at Ana and Ana looked back at him. She could feel his gaze and she wanted to hit him because everything made her lash out at him. Why? Because she was guilty. And when you were guilty it was just a consequence guilty people got. Lashing out on other when it was clearly not that person's fault.

But Ana was so glad she had two more years to deal with sehun before she could graduate. She was 16 and she already had big plans for her life. She wanted to move to America and study there for collage. But that's what she wanted to tell herself in reality she wanted to go to get away from sehun. But she wouldn't ever admit that in a million years.

As the bell rang she found luhan and them and talked about random stuff before the bell. As the late bell rang the halls cleared and her crew scattered Ana's floor was on the top floor and she cursed her self for not leaving earlier. Just as she was about to turn to the next floor sehun was coming down them.

Ugh.

Not him

Why?

Ana rolled her eyes and tried to pass him but she should of knew Sehun wouldn't go for that. "Ana what have I done." He said pained. Ana stopped in her tracks. It was always when no one was around Sehun got the opportunity to bother her about their relationship.

Trying to make a run for it Sehun followed after her catching up with her grabbing her hand dragging her the opposite way back down the stairs. "Yah Sehun-ssi" were there total strangers now. Why was she using his name in that form? "Don't Sehun-ssi me that bull shit Ana." He yelled at her.

They were now into an empty class room on the first floor which wasn't used much at this time of day. It was a lab room. Ana looked down not trying to respond because she didn't want to.

"Ana I know you hear me!" he said inching closer. He was now only inches away from her and Ana was sure she would be feeling that feeling if he had gotten any closer. "Ana." He said closing the gap in between him. Their bodies were pressed together and Ana started to breath heavy.

This was why she avoided her brother. This was what he done to her. He made her feel so inappropriate. And he didn't even know. To him this was innocent. But to her this felt sexual because she made it sexual. She wanted to rip his close off and fuck him right there. Although she was a virgin still she felt like she knew all she needed to know. Sex wasn't that hard, was it?

"Ana! " he looked her in the eyes." She looked back but quickly looked down ashamed because of the want she felt in her core. "Sehun stop." She breathed. And maybe she liked to piss him off. Because now look how hot he was when he was mad. She just liked how tense he looked when he was on a verge. But then it was times like this where she regretted it because she was about to exploded. And the only way she could redeem from this was too get angry back.

She quickly pushed him and Sehun got back in her face. "Sehun I'm warning you! "she angrily said. But he ignored her. "How can you just drop me like I'm nothing! Do you understand how it feels to be treated like shit?" He angrily said. Bodies were pressed again and Ana was losing control. She would and was going to kiss him if he didn't stop. She started hitting his chest and he grabbed her to restrain her so she would stop and pinned her hands above her head.

"Stop Ana stop this. " he whispered. And he looked sad. But Ana could back down. She had to be strong or she would be exposed. No time for vulnerability. "Sehun stop. "she said getting more horny and she thanked god she was a girl and not a guy.

"Why he whispered. Even if I did you never will." He said sounding hurt. He let go of her and backed away and put his hands in his pockets. "I just trying to figure you out. I'm still on the fact that you changed. And you hate me. Although I never done anything." He whispered.

The pain in his eyes made her want to explain her reasoning but you knew you would take that to the grave. There was no way in hell you would ever tell a soul. Not even if you got paid millions of dollars...

⬆ end of flash back AND DREAMS⬆

*Present*

PICKING BACK UP FROM LAST CHAPTER

"There you are." Luhan said. You stopped in front of him ignoring his comment. "Luhan Can I tell you a secret?" he looked at you and you felt like you could tell him but then you feel like you couldn't it was like a tug a war inside you.

"Okay sure what is it? he said looking at you. Now that you had the floor you felt like backing out. This was way different than you imagined. Great.

"I," you paused. "Sehun and I have a horrible relationship, " you said not knowing where you were going with this. with wide curious eyes, he said "Ana yes I know, but that still doesn't mean you don't support your brother."

He said taking it to a whole different area making this confession harder than it had to be. like this was just what you needed, not.

" yes I know Luhan," you said. feeling embarrassment.

"But there is a reason why were like this-" but you were cut off.

"Ana can you get to the point?" he said growing frustrated with your rambling.

You looked at him and you said." I'm in lo- I still love him." You quickly said.

Luhan stared at you blankly. But then he started to laugh. "Of course, you still love him he is your brother. I hate my father but I still love him." He admitted. he grabbed your waist and pushed you towards the hallway, you and he started to walk back to Sehuns room.

"Yeaaa." You didn't know how to reply. what else could you say? it wasn't like you could dive back and start over. it was a dead end. nothing else could be said.

Hey well at least you tried, right?

Guess the secret still is meant to be kept.

Mission 'what the fuck' status: fuck your life.

#oh sehun #EXO #iluvexo12 #forbidden love #asianfanfics #fanfic

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nct-scenarios · 7 years

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Can you do an mark imagine where you have a crush on him, but you are the only girl who he treats different, like he's v v close with other girls except for you. Thankkkkkkyouuuuuu (*^ω^*)

Hi there! I hope this is what you were looking for, it did end up a little cliche but hopefully it’s still a fun read. Sorry for the wait & enjoy! ✨

Mark

Listen: x

You hesitantly walked into your first class of the day. You felt nervous, understandably so, considering it was your first day of university.You had taken a bit longer than usual getting ready, hoping you looked your best. Having always been a simple dresser, you were worried your forest green tee and the pair of light washed jeans with white runners would be a bit understated for your first day.You took a deep breath before walking through the double doors of the study hall. What made you more nervous than attending classes was finding a new group of friends. Being your awkward self, you were never good at making friends. You had only a handful compared to others, but the ones that you did have, you were very close with.As you entered the hall, you noticed a couple of cliques scattered around. One of them consisted of three or so girls, another two girls and yet another a group of five guys. While some of them looked like they were getting to know each other, the others looked like they already knew each other back in high school.However, the clique that had your attention was the co-ed group with a lot of handsome and pretty faces at the front of the room. A kind and intellectual looking guy was seated on a chair with his arms loosely crossed in front of him, laughing at the conversation that was taking place. Next to him, there was a pretty girl with a high ponytail, who kept laughing and shaking her head at the jokes that were being told.A cheerful girl who was speaking in an accented English was seated on the desk, giggling in between her story. Next to her, there was a cool looking boy with fluffy black hair and a cute giggle would escape his mouth whenever he laughed. He was turned away so you couldn’t get a good look at his face, but you were sure he was handsome. You noticed that he had his arm loosely placed around the shoulder of the girl next to him as they talked and laughed away. You weren’t sure if that meant they were a couple or whether they were just close friends, but you wished that you could be comfortable around a guy like that one day. You hadn’t realized that you must have been standing at the door for a while now, as curious eyes began to glance in your direction. Soon the boy with the fluffy hair turned to look at the door and he locked eyes with you.You gasped quietly when you recognized his familiar face.His cute rounded eyes also widened at your appearance, as he waved at you briefly.You nodded in his direction to greet him before you slowly made your way over.You stood a short distance away from him and his friends, tugging on your backpack straps to keep from giving away how nervous you were. “Hi… it’s been a while… Minhyung.”He nodded but before he could speak, the bright and cheerful girl next to him spoke up.“Minhyung?”The kind boy who was seated chuckled lightly.“That’s Mark’s Korean name, Herin.”The kind boy gave you an eye smile.“Hi, my name is Jeno. You must be an old friend of Mark’s?”You nodded lightly.“We were family friends since grade school.”You turned to Mark and smiled at him.“You grew so much I hardly recognized you.”He bit his lip and patted the back of his neck lightly.“Yeah, it’s been a while. I don’t think I’ve seen you since I left to Canada after middle school.”He looked up to face you.“You look…”There was a pause as the others waited for him to finish his sentence. “Like you. Still you.”He chuckled softly as the others laughed.The relationship between you and Minhyung or ‘Mark’, as he goes by now, had always been a little awkward. Although the two of you were the same age and your parents were really close with one another, for some reason there weren’t many words often exchanged between the two of you.You had to admit that he had always been good-looking though, and you had a crush on him in middle school for a while.Apart from having good looks, Mark had always been nice and friendly. Having an open mindset, it wasn’t a surprise to you when his parents told you they were going overseas. He would fit right in.It wasn’t until middle school when you happened to come across the prettiest senior kiss Mark on the cheek did you realize that he was way out of your league. You still remembered when you ran out, feeling dejected and embarrassed. He had followed after you and called your name, but you ran further down the hall.

—

The professor entered the room to signal the start of class. You scanned the room before spotting a quiet spot in the back of the room.“Well it was nice seeing you again, Min- I mean Mark.”You nodded before going to take a seat at the back.“Where are you going? Sit with us.”Jeno patted the seat next to him as the other two girls amicably agreed.Your eyes locked with Mark’s for a short while before quickly taking a seat next to Jeno.Jeno leaned over and smiled at you.“What’s your name?”“___________.”“Nice to meet you.”

—

In the next couple weeks, the five of you began to hang out as a group. Specializing in the same program, you almost did everything with each other, from having the same classes to hanging out together for leisure.The five of you were lazing around the grass outside during lunch break.Jeno and you had the same temperament, so the two of you often sat side by side.Herin twirled around as she danced and sang, being as outgoing as always.Koeun was reading a book as Mark sat next to her, twirling her hair around.She would frequently slap his hand away, making him break out in giggles again.As Herin sat down, she tugged Mark’s arm lightly.“Could you put my hair up for me? It’s starting to get warm.”Mark nodded as she passed him a hair tie and he easily gathered her long black hair, tying it in a loose ponytail.Your eyes couldn’t leave the sight in front of you as Jeno nudged your arm lightly.“You okay?”Your cheeks immediately warmed up.You weren’t sure how Jeno had found out, but he had discovered your resurfaced feelings for Mark.You nodded your head before looking away as he leaned closer to whisper in your ear.“Watch this.”Jeno placed his arm over your shoulder, similar to how Mark had placed his over Herin’s the first day of class. Your eyes widened.Koeun lifted her brow as she closed her book.“Well that’s new. I’ve never seen you initiate skinship before, Jeno.”He shrugged.“I guess we should learn to be more open like our friends from overseas, Mark and Herin.”Koeun laughed, shaking her head in response.You noticed that Mark had started to look uneasy.“Quit it Jeno, _________ doesn’t like that.”Jeno smiled as he turned to you.“Is that right, _______? You don’t like skinship?”Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of crimson as he ran his fingers through your hair lightly.“Mark, do you want to help _______ tie her hair up too?”Mark hesitated as the others looked at him.“S-Sure.”He stood up slowly before taking a step towards you, his round eyes never leaving your gaze.Your eyebrows furrowed.Why was it that he treated you so different from the other girls? Why was he so comfortable around them but so awkward around you? Did he not like you?Before he could take a seat next to you, you stood up abruptly, face close to his.You saw his eyes widen as he bit down on his bottom lip.“If you hate me that much, you could have just let me know.”You took one last look at him, hurt evident on your face before walking away from the group.You heard Mark call your name as he ran after you.“__________!”“What’s wrong? __________!”He held your arm lightly, turning you around to face him.“Let go, Minhyung.”He tightened his grip.“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”You didn’t answer him as he tugged on your arm lightly.“Follow me.”He brought you to the side of the school where it was quiet.He let go of you as he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair.“What’s wrong, why are you upset?”You crossed your arms.“I told you. If you didn’t like me you could just say so. Why did you let me hang out with your friends?”He was slightly taken aback. “Why would you think that way?”“You’re close with the others, but you’re uncomfortable around me. Is it ‘cause I’m not pretty? Too plain?”

He took a step forward.“It’s not like that… you’re pretty! Very-”Although you were a bit shocked that Mark called you pretty, you placed your hand up.“I don’t need an explanation.”You turned to leave as he held on your arm one more time, raising his voice.“It’s 'cause I don’t know how to act around you.”You turned back to glare at him.“I’ve known you for a long time and you’ve always been that way.”You pushed him away lightly as he sighed, speaking his next line in a quiet voice.“It’s 'cause I like you… I don’t know how to act around you.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.“W-What do you mean?” “I don’t have a problem being comfortable around other girls… but I feel nervous around you. It’s the first time I felt that way. I thought the feeling would leave but it never did.”“Well does feeling comfortable around girls include letting them kiss you?”Mark lifted his hands up.“What? Of course not! Why would you-”He paused.“Wait… are you talking about that time you walked in on that senior and I?”He smiled mischievously.“How come you still remember that? It was ages ago.”“Could you possibly…”You tried to open your mouth to speak but he beat you to it.“Like me too?”Even if you tried to hide it, you could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks clearly giving away your feelings. “Well, it’s not like I plan on dating a player anyway.”You shrugged.“Wait… player?”He shook his head.“Never been in a relationship. And if you’re jealous over that senior kissing my cheek, that was her confessing to me. I was a kid, I was shocked okay? I tried to run after you but you just left. I thought that meant you weren’t interested in me, so… I was pretty down for a while.”He pressed his lips lightly with his fingers.“These are lips that have never been touched.”The two of you laughed lightly together, eyes gazing at one another.“You know… this is the first time we talked so much Min- I mean Mark.”He nodded.“You can call me Minhyung. I like it when you call me that.”You smiled, nodding.“So… what do we do now?”Mark took a step towards you, arm reaching out to pat the side of your head lightly, smiling lovingly at you.“We take our time getting to know each other.”

gif cr: nctmark

#nct #mark #mark lee #nct mark #nct scenarios #r #genre: school #mark looks so frickin adorable in the gif i am so weak ;;#beautiful bb ily

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lolbtsaus · 7 years

Text

High School!Namjoon

And now it is time for our amazing leader, my lowkey spirit animal, a total precious bundle of giggles like I can watch the “yellow card” video over and over again bc his giggles are so cute and I love that the entire time he’s just sitting there giggling bc chim did something cute like how is someone so precious, Kim Namjoon aka Rap Monster aka joon

This will be an extension of the teenager series (for the teen!Namjoon post, click here) the original post focused on the relationship, like the first meeting, the confession all of that fluffy stuff so this post is gonna be filling the gap in and saying what I think he’d be like as a high school student

His post also features young!joon (here) which is a post about being childhood friends with him and also what I think he would be like as a kid

Visuals are up first bc fetus!bts were so fucking cute like sign me uP

Okay but predebut!joon is so fucking cute like he has the same thing going on that the other boys do, he still has a bit of his bby chub, he’s still gotta grow into his features a lil more, cheekbones weren’t as sharp etc. all of the typical things but it’s really really adorable he looks so squishy

His cheeks were (and are) s o kissable and soft and I just wanna squish them bc they look so cute I love squishy cheeks so much

Gotta do black hair!joon for this bc I feel like we haven’t had black hair!joon in a while (I’m not complaining a t a l l bc I love dyed hair!joon with all my heart) and also predebut!joon had dark hair and I’m trying to keep it somewhat close to reality but it all works out bc I love black/dark hair!joon

Okay so Namjoon’s fashion is always changing and evolving, one day he’s wearing all black the next he’s in a bright pink shirt, one day he’s in black jeans the next he’s in overalls and I have to give joon some applause for taking risks and wearing whatever HE wants to wear bc his fashion is another form of expression and I love that he’s sending out the message of just do you (wink wink)

Some of my personal favorite Kim Dailys are when he’s in all black, there’s this one picture where he’s in all black but then there’s just a pop of pink from his hair and it’s so aesthetically pleasing but my all time favorite has to be this one picture is where he’s in a black tank top, black shorts and he’s got a headband on and glasses and he’s got the blondish hair going on and it’s just so wo W he looks so boyfriend in his Kim Daily posts and it makes me want to scream

HS!joon is always trying new things out and he loves finding new clothes or a new accessory like this one time you give him a hat for his birthday and he wears that thing for like three weeks straight bc he loves you and he loves hats so it’s all perfecT

Okay so Namjoon is really really friendly but he doesn’t make friends with everyone he walks next to so he has zero issues with becoming friends with someone and speaking to them first but he likes staying somewhat close to his group, the boys will always be his b e s t friends (and of course, you but you’re a lil more than a friend)

Namjoon likes to hang out with the kids that are pushed out of cliques for being different or ‘aren’t cool enough’ bc fuck that, no he’s gonna be friends with them and he’s gonna show them that not everyone cares about how much money they have or don’t have or how popular they are

And lowkey head canon that he’s super sarcastic with the 'popular’ clique that are all really arrogant and cocky so he gives them these really fake smiles when they talk to him, the type of fake that you know is fake so they can see he’s not having their shit and every single word is dripping with sarcasm and Yoongi’s helping him and they’re both just slowly but surely putting the clique in their place

Namjoon is totally the type to stick up for others around bullies like he’s tall and broad and he’s got that deep voice so he can easily psych the bully out and get them to leave the other person alone

Namjoon is obviously in the music club, he loves music so much but I also feel like he’d be in the fashion club maybe bc Namjoon seems like he’s really interested in different styles and different looks so he’d definitely try it out

He’s the president of the music club and everyone loves him in both clubs and he loves having people around him that are interested in the same things that he is like the people in the music club know about so many different artists and everyone’s always trading song suggestions and the fashion club is so open to different fashion styles like you have one kid that forever wears all black, there’s someone that likes to go for a nice dress and has a more vintage style he likes the quirky people that have something they love

I’m not sure Namjoon and sports should go together bc Namjoon has been given a certain nickname (god of destruction) and idk if giving him a ball and telling him to kick/throw/hit it is a good idea bc that sounds like a pretty good way to end up with a broken window and/or limb

Prom with Namjoon is so cute though like joon would be such a sweet boyfriend and he makes you feel so special the entire night like his eyes never leave you, his arm’s around your waist and he’s just so proud to be standing next to you and to be able to say yes hi I’m the boyfriend

He’s so !!! when he sees you like there are so many emotions, at first it’s all cute and his eyes are all bright and he’s so happy and in awe and then he gets this smirk and just does the “ok” hand motion and very blatantly checks you out

“NiCE”

He gets you a single rose (cue the cheesy line of “bc there’s only one you”) and is super happy to pose for pictures bc “in twenty years, we’ll look back on these pictures with our kids and tell them how I was the best prom date of the century”

Namjoon gets super hype at prom tbh like we’ve all seen what happens when Namjoon hears music, he goes crazy and just starts up the flailing limbs like his dance he did back in the WOH era where he was just whipping his arms back and forth and even got Jimin to join in with him

Or the iconic dance he did on Weekly Idol where he had the really long jacket sleeves and just kinda flopped around and flailed them all over the place and he looked like one of those air dancers (I had to look up the name of them using the joke about wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man from Family Guy apparently they’re called air dancers I learn something new every day)

He ends up losing his tie at some point and he doesn’t even realize it until he’s leaving and goes to fix his tie bc it “feels loose”

He and Jin start a dance off and somehow Yoongi gets roped into it and then Taehyung’s doing the worm in the middle of the dance floor while Jimin’s rolling around laughing and Jungkook’s challenging Tae by saying he can do a way better worm but it’s all adorable and Namjoon gets you to join him and Jin gets his date involved so now everyone just wiggling around with their dates

And of course the slow dancing is so sweet and soft and it’s super giggly bc you two keep stepping on each other’s feet and Namjoon just gets this huge smile and his entire face is lit up and he’s playfully singing along to the music off key just so he can hear you laugh

High school!joon is super sweet and kind and he’s really just a gentle giant and loves to make the people that feel left out feel included with him and he also just really really loves you

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republicstandard · 5 years

Text

American Autopsy: That Esquire Article

———

Social media is aflame with the vile reactions to the March 2019 Esquire article profiling an American boy, Ryan Morgan. An American boy who is, as we need to clarify these days, white.

While the anti-white reactions indeed indicate the downward spiral of our society and warrant discussion, I want to take a different approach.

We’re going to focus here on the Esquire article itself.

The piece is a high wire balancing act, ping-ponging between the familiar anti-white line and some vague gestures towards understanding the white experience. “Gestures” being the operative word.

The article and its packaging do just enough to seem edgy in 2019 America—they have to sell magazines after all, and while most media outlets parrot the anti-white rhetoric, every so often we get an editor who wants to feel like a maverick.

Is this really anything risky though? Or is it a sleight-of-hand that’s only supposed to appear risky?

Passages of the article are banal, which seems purposeful as if to project Ryan’s voice into the writer’s. This is especially true of the awkward opening, where Ryan was expected to answer what it might be like to be a girl. Who knows how the question was posed, how the journalist spun it, and what we can or should expect from an average seventeen-year-old boy when asked about what it might be like to be a girl.

As for the main thrust of the piece, the Esquire staff knew this would cause a stir among the anti-whites, as writers and YouTubers are rightly discussing.

So let’s look at what you’re allowed to think, the furthest you’re allowed to go in the mainstream if you’re presenting a neutral profile of an individual—the escape valve, the acceptable controversy, the corporately approved rebellion Esquire is engaging in.

The article states that the subject, Ryan, lives in West Bend, Wisconsin, “one of the last Republican strongholds.”

But then it goes on to say,

“Trump held a campaign rally at its conference center in 2016, where he declared, ‘I’m asking for the vote of every African-American citizen struggling in our country today,’ even though only 2 percent of West Bend’s population is African-American (Whites account for 95 percent.)”

The article also makes sure to point out that the most popular opinion at West Bend High School seemed to be anti-Trump.

The high school itself is described as, “looking like a five-acre Tetris block fallen in a grass field. A guard buzzes us in. The risk of school shootings is taken seriously.” Sounds a little too reminiscent of a prison for those of us imagining ennobled Faustian societies, and how the education of the youth might look in such an order.

All this in spite of the town and high school being generally safe, with barely any violent incidents in its recent history.

So we see a major theme established: atrophy. No greatness being made again. Even in the American heartland. Even with a President in office who was supposedly dog whistling white-positive overtures while on the campaign trail.

Ryan describes a loss of agency he’s experienced, not trusted because he’s a straight white male.

While discussing social media, he’s quoted as saying,

“I’d post a comment, and the replies would all be the same thing: ‘You’re stupid, and that’s dumb’ or ‘You suck’ or ‘You’re straight, you can’t talk about something LGBT.’”

We learn that Ryn takes in all perspectives and now makes sure to watch both Fox News AND CNN. He leans rights but has embraced the center. So the general reader is meant to lap up this conclusion: Ryan sidestepped the pitfalls of slipping further into the right wing and the scourge of identity politics.

The article makes a comment on how Ryan doesn’t fit into social cliques, notably indicating that he doesn't spend time with, in his own words, “white guys who all hang out with their trucks and guns and say, ‘Heil Trump’ and all that.” Other cliques were listed in the article, and all must have been mentioned by Ryan when the writer, Jennifer Percy, was interviewing him. But only this “white Heil Trump” group was put in quotes, put in Ryan’s own words. A telling detail.

Nevertheless, Ryan is ultimately presented as a representative of Trump’s base, albeit more level-headed. Despite that, we hear no positive political reasoning or viewpoints from Ryan.

We’ll have wait for the subsequent articles in this Esquire series that present the diversity crew, but something tells me that those kids will be more outspoken and opinionated. Esquire wouldn’t dare profile a budding James Allsup, for example, someone who could have debated finer points of white identity and offer critiques of multiculturalism.

Of course, I’m not attacking Ryan himself. I’m analyzing the magazine’s choice of profiling him, the slice they are presenting—as the edge of acceptability, no less. You get the impression that their subject, Ryan, is just, kind of...floating.

Ryan is quoted as saying: “It’s better to be a moderate, because then you don’t get heat. We want everyone to be happy.”

This is the Peterson Principle, everyone!

Another young white male saved from taking too strong a stance for his identity. From caring too much about his European heritage and the European civilization in which he lives. All this despite the swarms currently belching their contempt on social (and professional) media over the mere fact that you’re even hearing from Ryan.

Maybe he’s hiding his power levels, who knows? But we have to assess what we’re being shown.

There’s a passage where a teacher of his makes a gesture towards fairness—much like the article itself—in having the class sing two songs, one representative of liberal views, the other of conservative views.

Putting aside the childishness of having high school seniors participate in a singalong as a lesson, the liberal song contains lyrics with a positive vision while the conservative paints a picture of fear and destruction.

The article tells us,

“The Liberal Song” is set to the tune of “Ode to Joy.” Mr. Inkmann offers to sing first before everyone joins in. “If I were a liberal, liberal, life would be so very great,” the lyrics read, “knowing that in liberal land this other man could marry me.” ...“The Conservative Song,” set to the tune of “Beer Barrel Polka,” includes lines like “I hate social programs, they really make me want to puke / I would rather use the money for a two-ton nuke” and “Welfare is not good, before we had it, people tried / And I hope the biggest criminals are electrified!”

When mainstream news media is referenced, only one fall from grace bears mentioning, that of Fox News pundit, Bill O’Reilly.

We see a rather unmissable portrait outlined: conservatism and its avatars in traditional white America are on the wane. This way of life and these people are losing their grip. When one realizes Wisconsin is set to be a swing state come the 2020 Presidential election, we get an even better idea of why Ryan Morgan of West Bend was chosen as the subject.

In it's general the tone the article is drab.

The accompanying photographs convey a detached, almost bored eye. The colors and emotions expressed are often bland, save for one sweet photo of Ryan carrying his girlfriend on his back, both smiling.

We hear of Ryan’s divorced parents at a couple of points. They live as far away from each other as legally possible for having joint custody. When they meet bi-monthly at a parking lot to exchange him, Ryan’s parents park their cars in opposite directions so that they don’t even see each other. Fracture and sadness abound in modern America.

Esquire is showing you a snapshot of something in decline. Through the semblance of presenting something fair, interesting, or controversial—depending on who you ask— you can feel this sort of exposé throwing a deathly pall over white America.

While Ryan indeed seems like a good kid, Esquire shows its hand in choosing him because there’s a troubling story from his past woven throughout the article. There had been an incident where a girl at school slapped him, and he then slapped her back.

There were ramifications that followed and even a bit of legal action.

Although we also learn that Ryan doesn’t drink or do drugs, is in advanced classes, aspires to work as an environmental scientist, getting up at 5:30 am for an internship at a water plant, and seems like he genuinely wants to do right by people, this specter of the incident with the girl haunts the article, repeated at intervals.

The message is this: no matter how upstanding a young white man may seem, there could be a woman beater lurking inside.

There could be a hater lurking inside.

He is born guilty, always carrying the stain.

So step back, be mild, be moderate, stay in the center. Take in the perspectives of the margins as if they drive society and don’t question it.

If you color outside these lines, you risk becoming a monster. Be a nice Jekyll and let the new culture ministers continually browbeat you to prevent the ugly Hyde from emerging.

This is the sandbox you are allowed to play in, white man.

We’re shown the outer edges of that sandbox in this article. As mentioned, many are indeed vehemently pushing back against this article even existing “in the current year.”

Every so often, the white man may be acknowledged in new media. But even that is becoming verboten.

The sandbox is shrinking.

Don’t say anything.

As Ryan himself stated, quoted on the magazine cover,

“I know what I can’t do… I just don’t know what I can do.”

from Republic Standard | Conservative Thought & Culture Magazine http://bit.ly/2Ij9qGm via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Republic Standard | Conservative Thought & Culture Magazine

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purpleflamingosarelife · 6 years

Text

Rules: answer 24 (nada, I’m doing 15 because I honsestly can’t come up with that many) questions and tag as many people as you want (idk if any of my followers/ the ppl I’m following want me to drag them into this so I’m not tagging anyone, also I don’t have any questions from peeps so I’m just gonna... make this into a character sheet about myself which is actually made up of questions I’ve been asked in my everyday life + random stuff I’m gonna put in)

Tagged by: @coda-wolf

Who am I? I’m just a lonely fourteen year old named Joy. I have no friends.

Birthday? A nice, cold day in February of 2004. Fun fact: my dad missed both me AND my sister’s births because he just had to stop to get a whopper on his way home from a drilling rig in North Dakota. I was dropped several times as a baby, explaining my weirdness.

If I could meet ONE living celebrity, who’d it be? Kevin Spacey (just kidding I don’t like basements). No, actually, I’d really love to meet Paul Anka. Yes, he’s old as hell but I like old people and this man, this ANGEL has even friends of mine that aren’t reincarnated from the ‘50′s swooning over (young) him. You may also notice from my rants that I like people with long-ish and/or very triangular noses (I don’t know why, but you can find a list of people below).

Elvis Presley

Paul Anka

Chris Hansen (his nose isn’t too long but ok)

Jeff Goldblum

Some dude that works at the guitar store in town (His name is Johnny)

Steve Carell

4. Favorite beverage? Pepsi. ALWAYS. FUCKING. PEPSI.

5. Favorite music artists? Lots of old music (Sinatra, all that good stuff), P!ATD, Arctic Monkeys, as well as a few old rock bands like Journey. You can’t ask a musician for their whole list of favorite music artists tho lol

6. What instruments do you play? O boy, hold onto your ass because this is a shit show. Violin, guitar, ukulele, keyboard/piano, bass guitar, drums, also I sing but uh... I can’t hit those high notes (unlike someone who is seventeen years older than me *cough cough* Brendon Urie).

7. Why don’t I have any friends? Well, to start, I live in the mountains here in lovely Wyoming, so there aren’t exactly kids on the block for me to just chill with. Plus, I’m weird and antisocial and really just have a super small friend group at school (I have like three super close friends. One of them is my PE teacher, and no, he doesn’t have a long, triangular nose so don’t be getting any fuckin’ ideas). Then you have the different cliques of people, which I don’t really fit into any of them. I’m that person that hangs out with people just because they have no friends, and then I’m also the only person my age that takes interest in the things I take interest in. Lone ass wolf, that’s what I am. AAALSO, I don’t really like surrounding myself with a ton of people because everyone I’ve ever truly loved has either died, been in jail for most of my life/lives out of state, or has Alzheimer's and forces me to reintroduce myself every time I see them.

8. What hairstyle do I have? Well, my hair is kind of... eh. First of all, it’s like a dirty blonde and my eyebrows are naturally a brunette color (that has literally nothing to do with this but fine). And my hair is about shoulder length now. which is new for me. In the past, I’ve always cut it short. I kind of like it at the length it’s at, though. It has a natural wave so I can do a cool floopty-doopty with it (wow ok as if ‘floopty-doopty’ is gonna explain it great job Joy the Dumbass here’s a reference link: (natural hair floopty doop it’s something like this picture right here that I legit just googled)). I think it’s going to be about long enough in October for my Rosie the Riveter costume [don’t judge me for dressing up I don’t actually go trick or treating I legit pretended to be a Michael Myers yard decoration last year and scared the everloving shit out of half of my friend’s neighborhood (I’m an asshole lol)].

9. Song stuck in my head: King of the Clouds by Panic! At the Disco

10. Biggest insecurity(ies)? My face (I think it’s pretty ugly but many people don’t so??) and the songs I write.

11. Favorite outfit? Black pants, black converses, white t-shirt of some sort, leather jacket if the weather’s right, brown lipstick and cheap sunglasses from Target. Slight variations occur often.

12. Last thing in my search history? (I used this one from @coda-wolf’s thingy because I’m losing ideas here sorry) Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck ok um lets see *opens history* *cringes* It was how to copy and paste on a Windows CPU because I’m stupid as fuck and can’t work my own goddamn laptop

13.What is my favorite time of the school day? 1.) walking into 1st period PE to chill with my super cool teacher who legit will not count points off of my grade for laziness because we both like Elvis 2.) leaving the hellhole we call school (obviously I’m on summer break currently but my schedule has NOT changed which is weird)

14. Favorite movie? Halloween (1978).

15. Why did I create my blog? I did it because I enjoy writing and I really like sharing it w/ others. This is not only for their enjoyment, but for feedback as well so that I can continue improving my writing skills. My teachers are also very helpful w/ the feeback as well so thank you W (i’m not saying anything else about this teacher’s identity) even though you make my life a living hell sometimes.

Ok, thanks for reading. Sorry for the cringe! Love any of the beautiful peeps that took the time to read this as always :)

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