#crosswalk chalk

[bumblebeeappletree]

So I finally went and did the four seasons (or at least attempted) at a four way.

People said thank you while I was drawing it (some were walking their dogs, or were with their little kids or out on a jog) or gave me smiles and a thumbs up in their cars. One old lady ask for me to draw by the school where she lives 🥺 I was honestly not expecting anyone to thank me but it goes to show that adding a little bit of fun to the community really brightens their day.

#solarpunk #sidewalk chalk #crosswalk chalk #chalk art #chalk #art #crosswalk #not pictured: my bad attempt of a sun in the middle of the intersection #there was more traffic than anticipated (but not too much) #and I didn’t have enough yellow

[sarahwroteathing]

Coffee and Cinnamon

[Steve Rogers x Reader]

Word Count: 1874

Summary: You and Natasha own a small bookstore beside an even smaller bakery, and the fact that both establishments sell coffee is... a bit of a problem.

Warnings: All fluff and foolishness

A/N: This is for @odetoapotheosis who made this lovely storyboard for my December Gift Exchange! I had a lot of fun with it! And I’m very happy that I gained enough mobility in my wrist today to finish it up and share it with you guys!

The streets were still quiet and mostly empty as you left the park that morning, the loudest sound the soft shushing of your boots through the freshly fallen snow, still pristine white and powdery. Even with a business to run, you didn’t mind a slow morning. It gave you time to take a breath, take a walk, prepare yourself for the day ahead. Eat something.

You crossed the road quickly, not bothering with the crosswalk when there was so little traffic to contend with. Your shop was only a few blocks from the park, and you spent that time shaking loose the few fallen flakes of pastry clinging to your scarf, the only remaining evidence of your breakfast. Evidence you’d prefer to withhold from your business partner and best friend Natasha Romanoff, if at all possible. 

You gave your coat one final pat down as you passed the neighboring storefront, a compact but industrious little bakery owned by Sam Wilson and your mostly-playfully-but-sometimes-not sworn nemesis Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers, who was just inside, drawing something on the chalk sandwich board he’d soon be setting outside. Steve Rogers who listened to old man music and wore a polka dotted apron and poked his lower lip out just a little when he was concentrating. Not that you’d noticed.

They were perfectly cordial and about as well behaved as neighbors can be. Sam liked to sing - loud - in the mornings, and the wall between your back office and their kitchen was not up to the task of soundproofing, but mostly it just made you smile. And on days when you balanced the books, you gave the wall a little knock, and heard the muffled “sorry!” come back. Steve was, in your humble opinion, a punk with too much snark for his own good, but other than that you had very little to complain about.

What stopped your cheerful little business ventures from being owned by the very best friend group in town was that both the bakery and your charming little bookstore happened to sell coffee. And thus, an unshakeable and largely theatrical rivalry was born. Sam was unbothered - his job was cakes and cookies, two things that you did not sell. Natasha got great joy out of reminding you that you owned a bookstore and coffee was an extremely minor part of the business, but that didn’t stop her from egging on the competitive spirit that kept you and Steve clashing in, for her, extremely entertaining ways.

The bells above the door chimed happily as you opened the door, and you immediately saw the familiar flash of red as Natasha peeked around a bookshelf.

“Where did you go?” she asked, a dangerous spark in her eyes as she moved into the aisle. 

“On a walk,” you said innocently, brushing past her on your way to the back counter that served as both the checkout and the coffee bar. 

“On a walk,” she repeated, following behind you. “In the snow. When the sun is barely up.”

“It’s very peaceful out there. I recommend it, if you don’t have too much to do. Today definitely belongs to the late morning and early afternoon customers. I can feel it.”

“Sure,” she said noncommittally, leaning on the countertop as you shrugged out of your coat. “You’re wearing lipstick today.”

You steadfastly ignored the flutter in your stomach reminding you that it wasn’t the first time today someone had pointed that out to you. 

“Just felt like it this morning. Why, do you not like it?”

“I like it just fine. It’s a good color for you, makes your lips pop.” She was smiling now, and you ventured a smile back.

“Thank you.”

“Did Steve like it?”

You froze for half a second before removing your scarf too.

“Beg pardon?”

“I said did Steve like it?”

“I know what you said, I just can’t imagine why you said it.” 

“Because you’ve got the glow,” she said, finally pushing off the counter to help you arrange the clean mugs and to-go cups. 

You snorted. “The glow? The randomly-decided-to-wear-lipstick glow?”

“The apple turnover and light flirtation glow. The Saturday mornings when Steve opens the bakery alone and gets extra chatty glow.” 

You huffed out a dramatic sigh, deciding to trade one admission to protect you from another.

“Okay, fine, I got an apple turnover. Are you happy? They make me see through space and time, and I will not apologize.”

Natasha laughed, but you meant every word. Steve’s turnovers were so good it was borderline scary, and they were also a fantastic way to start a Saturday. That was the reason you went to the bakery today, and that was the only reason, thank you very much.

Never one to leave well enough alone, Nat leveled a knowing grin at you.

“Is it the apple turnovers that make you see through space and time or all that unresolved tension?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said primly, wiping down the already spotless counter. “I have no tension. Never been less tense in my life, as a matter of fact.” 

The soft chime of the bells above the door had you turning so quickly, the towel in your hand nearly went flying across the room. But just as quickly as you tensed up, your shoulders relaxed again. 

“Just Bucky,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to a very smug Natasha, as you began preparing the same coffee order he requested every morning. 

For his part, he looked mildly offended. 

“Oh, sure. Just Bucky. Just Bucky risking being violently murdered by his best friend for the crime of buying coffee from someone else.”

“You’re very brave,” Natasha laughed. 

Bucky winked at her, and you smugly filed it away to torture her with later. She had it coming at this point, she really did. 

The three of you kept up a lighthearted chatter as you finished making his coffee, and just as you slid the to-go cup across the counter, Bucky fished a folded piece of paper out of his pocket to hand to you along with his credit card. 

“Steve asked me to give that to you,” he said in answer to your raised brows. 

You handed the credit card off to Natasha, who had run this exact transaction often enough to do it blindly, her eyes fixed on the paper you were unfolding.

A drawing of your shop’s logo, a cat asleep on a stack of books, precisely rendered in blue ballpoint pen. Beneath it, a tagline: “Come for the books, leave for the coffee.”

Your mouth dropped open. Beside you, Natasha was watching your face with positively gleeful expectation.

Your hand curled into a fist, crumpling the paper into a tight ball. 

“If you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to go commit an act of violence,” you said calmly. 

As you circled the counter and headed towards the door, Natasha called out behind you.

“Where are you going?”

“To witness a murder,” Bucky replied as he followed you. “Always thought I’d hold up well to cross-examination.”

“To witness, not stop?”

“Still deciding.” 

You did nothing to contribute to the conversation, riding a wave of righteous indignation right out the door into the snow with Bucky hot on your heels. When you entered the bakery, Steve was behind the counter, humming quietly to himself as he balanced a hot tray of croissants in one hand and stocked the glass display case with the other. They smelled amazing. It only made you angrier.

He looked up at the sound of the door, a smile growing on his face at the sight of you, your stormy expression doing nothing to deter a cheerful “Good morning!”

When you started to round the counter, his smile started to fall a bit.

“Hey, hey! No customers behind the counter.”

“I’m not a customer. I’m an angry mob,” you said, stepping closer until he was forced to set the baking tray down to avoid burning you. 

“What, all by yourself?” he asked, looking gratifyingly startled by your close proximity, the toes of your boots very nearly pressed against his.

“And doing a great job,” Bucky chimed in from his spot near the door, holding up his coffee cup in a toasting motion. 

“Come for the books. Leave for the coffee. Are you serious?”

That smile was back. Infuriating. 

Cute. But mostly infuriating.

“I thought it was funny. Didn’t you think it was funny?”

“I thought it was in poor taste. Like the coffee you sell here.”

“Ooo, burn,” Bucky laughed, earning a brief glare from Steve.

“I’m curious about where you think my customers should go to get coffee if they don’t buy it from me. Their next best bet for quality coffee would be the gas station five blocks south. Seems a little inconvenient though.”

“The gas station?” Steve repeated incredulously. “Wow.”

You shrugged.

“I thought it was funny. Didn’t you think it was funny?” you asked innocently.

And that smile was coming back again, but you didn’t find it so annoying this time, not since you were smiling too. 

“Well played. How was the apple turnover?” 

“Hmm. Acceptable.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said softly.

There was quiet for a few seconds, the two of you still staring at each other, still standing incredibly close together. The smell of apples and cinnamon was lingering on his clothes from all his morning baking, blending with his cologne in a way that made you feel faintly dizzy. And the spark in his blue eyes, charming in a way that made you think of ruffled hair and breathless laughter, did not make your head any clearer. 

“Um… Do I need to leave so you guys can kiss or something?” Bucky asked, breaking the strange trance you both had been locked in. Steve went a little pink, and you fumbled through a few quick steps backward, embarrassingly conspicuous. 

You cleared your throat, eyes catching on a diversion and clinging to it like a liferaft. 

You snatched up another apple turnover, holding it aloft in a square of wax paper like a trophy.

“I’m taking this. For free. For emotional damages.” 

“Seems fair,” Steve replied with a brief laugh, cheeks still rosy, and avoiding your eyes in favor of taking up the tray of croissants again. 

“Right. Bye.” You exited quickly with your stolen prize, not missing the way Bucky was grinning like a kid on Christmas as you passed.

When the door closed behind you, Bucky cleared his throat dramatically, crossing to lean against the counter near Steve, who refused to look at him.

“So that was fun.”

“Shut up.”

“You ever going to ask her out, or are you gonna keep tugging on her pigtails like a seven year old?”

“Shut up.”

“Here’s your coffee, punk,” Bucky said, smile entirely unfaded as he slid the to-go cup across the counter. 

Steve took the cup quickly, turning his back on Bucky as he took a generous sip, closing his eyes briefly to savor the taste. He adjusted the cardboard sleeve, staring at the logo stamped on it in heavy black ink, a cat asleep on a pile of books. 

“You’ve got it so bad it’s embarrassing.”

“How’s Natasha?”

“Shut up.”

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

I had so much fun with this. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Replies, reblogs, and asks keep me going! I’d love to hear from you :)

Sequel: Maple Latte

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

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu​ @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr​  @orangespocks​ @multifandomgirl-us​ @majesticavenger @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @patzammit​ @pato-el-cerdito​

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers bakery au

[acutiewithagun]

Can I request a Donatello & reader work, where reader is a youtuber like Donatello, and decided to go to new york to see if the rumors about mutants are true. The reader eventually runs into the turtles and April fighting against a villain, and thinking that the rumors were false and that it was just an impressively realistic film set by Bootyyyshaker9000, records the tail end of the fight before asking if the two of them could collab some time.

(Short to medium length would be cool)

(Ooo, fight scene? I'll do my best.)

Vloggers paradise

You fiddled with your video camera as you walked though the streets of the famous city of New York. After seeing the video footage of the attack by the aliens two years ago, you knew you had to see if the rumors of mutant turtles were true. And it would be some pretty nice content for YouTube as well if you managed to catch some footage.

You bumped into someone on the crosswalk and before you could apologize, the figure pushed past you. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, then suddenly two people rushed past you. You quickly turned and noticed one was green while the other was a normal girl.

You noticed the camera in the green person's hand and chalk it up to them also being a YouTuber. You start chasing them with your own video camera. They disappeared into the crowd but you managed to spot the figure from earlier ducking into an alleyway. You narrow your eyes on it and rush to get there.

You skid into the small gap between buildings and watch as the green person and girl are now fighting what appeared to be a ninja. Upon closer inspection the green person was some type of turtle guy. But turtles don't have purple shells or purple masks, maybe it was just his thing. You remember the video camera they had earlier and spot it on a dumpster, aimed at the fight.

That alone confirmed your suspicion that they were some type of YouTuber as well. You turned your attention back to the fight and watched in awe. The turtle guy was amazing with the large steel stick he was welding. The girl was also incredible with her wooden bat that seemed to glow green. The ninja held their ground pretty well considering. You ducked behind the dumpster to watch safely.

You watched as the turtle twirled his weapon as he dodged a high kick from the ninja. The girl swung her bat at the ninja as they landed, but the ninja slumped down, avoiding the glowing weaponry. Unfortunately for the ninja, a purple translucent bear trap appeared out of thin air and snagged their leg. The ninja hit the floor and with a small swing of her bat, the girl knocked the ninja out cold. Luckily you remembered the last second to record with your own video camera.

You only caught the final hit, but you were satisfied as you watched back on the recording of the two high fiving in victory.

"Great job Dee! That bear trap seriously did wonders." The girl's voice got closer and that caused you to shoot up in surprise. You gave the surprised pair a weak smile and save. You shut off your camera and put it away in your bag.

"How much of that did you see..?" The turtle guy got closer with a narrowed gaze as he grabbed his own video camera. "Not much," you managed to squeak as you watched him review his own footage. The girl cleared her throat and held out her hand. "Hiya, I'm April O'Neil, and you are?" You shake her hand and introduce yourself before turning your attention back to the turtle. "Are you guys YouTubers as well?"

That peaked the turtle's interest and they raised their gaze back to you. "I am, BootyyyShaker9000, that's three ys" You snort at the name with a nod. "Wanna collab some time Mr. Bootyyyshaker900?" He let out an interested hum and handed the video camera off to April. "What is your handle?"

You smiled and told him, even handing him a business card, which slightly impressed the turtle. "Then I suppose, you are alright with me being a mutant, correct?" You blink in confusion and shrug. "Isn't that stuff fake? Just a tactic to scare the public?" The turtle let out a groan and placed a hand over what appeared to be a plastron. "Scoff, no, I'm one of the many saviors of the world. Who do you think defeated the Kraang two year ago?"

That just made you more confused as you shifted uncomfortably. "Kraang? Do you mean the aliens?" He gave a reaffirming nod as April interrupted the conversation. "Hey Dee, we gotta get back to the guys. Pizza night doesn't wait for your conversation." You gave a slight apologetic smile and look at the time on your phone. "Oh, I've got to go too, text me when you are free to collab. I'm only in the city for another week though."

You noticed a slight shift from the turtle addressed as Dee. "A week?" April was already on her way out as you nodded. "Just visited to investigate the mutant rumors and get some content." He gave a slight huff and also started leaving as you trailed behind. "I never caught your real name."

He looked at you over his shoulder. "Donatello, trust me, you'll be seeing plenty of me this week for that collab." With that he walked off, leaving you with a smile as you made your way back to your hotel.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt oc #rottmnt self insert #yandere rottmnt #rottmnt platonic x reader #a cutie with a gun writes

[colormepurplex2]

Kaleidoscope | Orange

↳ Musician!Namjoon x Artist!Reader ⤜ Neighbors, Mutual Pining, Artist Muse ⤜ Rating: MA | fluff, eventual smut ⤜ WC: 793 ⚠️ Crass language, secret personal pining, intimate personal thoughts about a stranger

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It dangles from the zipper of his backpack. The vibrant, marmalade-colored duck looks like he got it from one of those kids' twenty-five-cent candy machines—the kind with the hollow plastic balls filled with cheap trinkets. It’s endearing to think he’s perhaps indulged in his own fanciful want of a little plastic duckling.

There is no distinguished color between the body and the bill. The fact the bauble isn’t the traditional flaxen canary color with orange accents makes you smile; you like oddities like that—they’re refreshing. It’s one solid lump of orange that contrasts so starkly against his bag's dark, coal color. You chalk that up to the reason you can’t look away. That and it’s just too cute, bobbing along behind such a formidable figure. You’re not following him—at least, not on purpose. The space you rent as an art studio just happens to be in this direction.

You weren’t expecting to see Apartment A when you opened your door this morning. But, there he was, walking toward the elevator—only seconds ahead of you leaving his own apartment, it seems. It’s odd to see him out at this time. It’s not part of the typical routine you’ve grown so used to.

The duck sways from side to side with each of his long strides. You’re too far away to hear the music from his headphones, but you can imagine it’s an upbeat tune based on the extra bop he puts in every other step as he moves down the near-empty sidewalk ahead of you.

It’s early; most people are still tucked in their beds or preparing for work in the privacy of their homes before bustling onto the street. You prefer the early mornings, avoiding the crowds, less noise and disruption. Except now, you’re distracted, and instead of turning left to head in the direction of your art space, you find yourself two streets further down, all because you’re concentrating on the bright pop of orange, following it like a beacon.

Apartment A stops at a crosswalk, angled to go in a direction that will take you even further from your art studio. With one last glance at the keychain, you pull in a slow breath, letting the early morning chill settle in your lungs before turning and retracing your steps.

However, instead of turning down the street and heading to your workspace, you continue on back toward your apartment. It’s an artistic thing, you’re sure, getting an itch that needs to be scratched like this. If you were to go and try to work on something else, you’d do nothing but think about the canvas waiting for you in your living room. The canvas that now depicts an abstract version of an apple being eaten.

In all its simplistic glory, the orange duckling has inspired another impromptu need to create. You tap your foot as you wait for the elevator to crawl up to the seventh floor. The constant vibration adds to the jittery feeling in your body. You love the adrenaline rush of inspiration—that baser primal desire to mold and bend the pigments to your will in order to take the swirling vortex of your mind and put it on canvas.

Your shoes once again hit the wall, leaving dirty scuffs in their wake—something for the you of tomorrow to worry about. Right now, you feel like if you don’t get your thoughts out and onto the white gessoed surface of the canvas, you might combust into your own macabre work of art.

Ochre, carmine, terracotta, and cadmium yellow join the myriad of colors sitting in heaps on your palette. The gouache paints melt together as you dab and swirl, aiming for the perfect tangerine tone.

Working in quick strokes, you hum quietly to yourself as you begin the base foundation. You take a step back, sticking the tip of the brush handle between your teeth out of habit. The orange contrasts perfectly with the red from last time. A spark of unfettered clarity compared to the hazardous irritation and lust.

There’s something to be said about the genuinely good feeling that accompanies spur-of-the-moment creation. Letting your imagination take over and dole out sporadic intricacies that somehow all come together in the end to make a coherent, if still subjective, display. This is the reason you paint, the reason you let yourself indulge in your fantasies of strangers.

It’s in this moment—as you’re staring at the spread of orange and red on the canvas, that brought out such a visceral response in you—that you, without a doubt, need to find out more about the man who is slowly becoming your secret muse: Apartment A. You smile to yourself. Perhaps learning his real name would be the best place to start.

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#kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagines #bts fanfic #bts namjoon #musician namjoon #bangtanwhq

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn't seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Angst, Panic Attacks, Cussing

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 1 : The Girl in the Attic

"You mother fucking bitch! You think I'm done with you?"

The empty screams from below are a sordid wake up call to your fifteen-year old mind. Lazy eyes zone in on the lone figure of an old man carrying a weathered baseball bat--something that might have belonged to his son back in the day-- waving it about like the madman he was.

It was sad, really what happened to him.

He wasn't always like that like most people who go insane are not.

He was a former war veteran. War shock they said.

The medicine was too expensive for the family to cope with-- seven bucks a piece-- and health care in your area was shit so they couldn't maintain his sanity and left him to rot at home alone.

With you.

And now he roams the suburb's streets like the Bogeyman, scaring children to death.

Or giving you a mini heart attack.

One time when you were left alone (your parents were workaholics so you tended to be left to your own devices at home most of the time, particularly during summer vacation) you found him scaling the back wall of your mother's dainty kitchen and in your fright, you had developed a morbidly horrific bout of panic attacks.

At first your parents had merely scoffed, taking it for granted, and yet witnessing you practically have a mental breakdown inside a McDonald's, lungs gasping for air, did your mother grudgingly take a leave of absence to monitor your state.

Eventually your hysterical episodes dwindled largely owing to the fact that there was a lull in the chaos that surrounded you.

Until today.

You were home alone once more and the old man was at it again and despite having double checked to see if all your doors and windows were locked, there was no stopping an armed and deranged maniac from smashing one of your living room windows just so he could get in.

You couldn't help the slight tremble to your frame, lashes fluttering, cold sweat breaking out of your bones as you slowly inched back, just in time for the old man to look up directly to the small attic window where you were huddled, crouched down like a meek mouse.

Afraid to even make a sound.

The LCD of your father's old phone-- a hand me down for you to call with in cases of emergencies (and emergencies only, Hun, mum and I are very busy people), lights up with a text.

Hey, you up for a movie at our place?

-Jeongguk

Ah, your seven adorkable, pain in the ass childhood friends.

You shake your head as if Jeongguk could see you...well, if they could see you now, you don't know what lengths they would go to protect you.

They may be severely annoying sometimes but they were fiercely loyal to you for some reason.

You chalked it up to being the only girl who fit in with the ragtag group of rowdy boys.

"Kinda saving my ass here, Guk," you mutter out a sigh, only to become stilted when a crash resounds from downstairs.

Well shit if it isn't that one of your worst nightmares come true.

Heart furiously pumping with unbidden adrenaline, your courage rising to the surface, you peep at the crosswalk and spy the absence of the lunatic (of course, YN because he is fucking inside your house right at this moment).

Okay, you've got this. You've planned this for a damn long time.

You think to yourself.

And just as the man's chuckles reach your ears, you take a leap of faith and soundlessly climb down the fire escape, jumping to your feet on the soft patch of grass beneath your socked feet, a welcome to discomfort in your haste.

You weren't dying. Not today anyway.

With fueled limbs, you run through the expanse of your parents' well mowed lawn, huffing and puffing until you spot the familiar mansion that was everybody's talk of the town some years ago (and up to now) when it was just being built to house a single dad with his insanely huge adopted family.

You push the heavy gates open after a scan of the thumb (your best friends' father was a big shot CEO of some music company) and hear it shut close behind you, wondering where the guards were as there was no one to greet you like usual.

"Guys!" You whisper hiss through the ringer, not wanting to draw attention to yourself or the old man might come running out to find where the noise was coming from, and the door thankfully flies open.

"YN?!"

You wheedle against seven bodies resembling a frightened animal, quickly locking the massive doors and slump against them, out of breath and dead tired.

Unbeknownst to you however were the seven pairs of eyes crouched down to your level, gentle hands lifting you in a bridal carry, up, up the entwine of stairs and into someone's bedroom.

The familiar sound of the biometric security locking in place all over the house has you shifting your exhausted gaze to your seven best friends.

"Is it that old Bogeyman again?" Park Jimin, cherubic cheeks puffed out with worry, takes your hands, rubs soothing circles on your palms.

"Shouldn't have let the bodyguards take a day off." He murmurs at your nod, biting his plump lips.

Two warm silhouettes sit beside you on the bed, Kim Namjoon with his ever so patient smile and Min Yoongi, ever so bored but feline eyes staring intently at you, a hand grazing your cheek softly to pat your now disheveled baby hairs into a neat row.

Jung Hoseok takes the space in front of your knees next to Jimin, sunshine smile evaporating as you tell them what you know and how you got here.

In fact, all the gentleness in their demeanors morph into something tense, something feared, something that shouldn't be found in the faces of someone so young, but you were too blanked out to particularly care at that point.

Silent looks are traded and in a flurry of movement, someone is calling the cops under their breath.

You startle at the harsh tone Yoongi takes as he speaks over the phone, pacing back and forth, a hand behind his back. Namjoon already has your parents over the line while Hoseok has their dad on the other end.

Jeon Jeongguk, the baby of the group hardly gives you time to adjust as he snakes his arms around your waist, head buried on your lap while his two hyungs scooch over to give him some room. "Noona, stay with us until this thing blows over. It's dangerous."

A hand rests atop your head, ruffling it and you pout up at Kim Taehyung, the taller (and way prettier) boy looking down on you as if you were a midget, a small curl of his lips apparent. "What he said, half pint."

"There is no way in hell we are leaving you alone in that house tonight, babe." Kim Seokjin, the eldest of your friends sneers at the window, arms crossed, broad shoulders --the back of a protector-- on full display as his pink fuzzy-slippered feet take him to close the curtains for privacy.

"Your parents gave the okay. "

"Police are on their way to scout your house, princess."

Your attention is diverted to Namjoon and Yoongi, just as Hoseok turns to all of you and gives a thumbs up. "Dad says YN can stay here for as long as she needs to."

Namjoon nods, "Oh good then that settles that. " He coughs awkwardly, facing you once again, scratching his chin, "YN, your parents wanted me to tell you that they're going to be dropping you off with a relative sometime next week, as they will be permanently relocated overseas for awhile, especially now more than ever, but it looks like you won't be having that problem anytime soon . "

You sigh. What else would you expect from your parents. "If you're all okay with that, then I'm in."

"Of course you're welcome to stay here forever!" Jimin chirps.

Which leads to a heated debate whether forever is enough to keep you to themselves.

You smile in exasperation.

Well at least you won't be so lonely in a large ass mansion anymore.

🔮

FASTFORWARD FOUR YEARS

You watch with pinched lips and a bruised ego (hello, you had breasts too!) as a gaggle of senior girls fawn over your best friends in the University's bustling cafeteria, some even going so far as to let their butt hang out in public.

Disgustingly inappropriate if one may say so.

You aren't even sure if these people can see that they were stampeding all over you, just because of some hot men.

Okay your hot men. Yours.

Everyone knows that they were questionably single.

And yet it was common knowledge that some if not most of them slept around.

The heady smell of expensive perfumes and bare legs is enough to make you woozy, and you glare at someone's elbow as you are displaced from your so called loyal niche, someone's stilletos stepping on your injured foot for good measure.

Glaring like a riled up kitty, or a puppy, or a puppitty, you storm away not bothering to check whether Bangtan Sonyeondan (as their unofficial band name entails) even noticed your tantrum--if you learned one thing about your boys, it was that they were horny all the damn time.

The only saving grace you had was that they never, and you mean never, brought anyone into the mansion and so you luckily were not subjected to any sort of clap and slap at any time.

Thank fuck.

You don't think you could handle it in the flesh.

It has been four years. Four years of wonderful, familial memories, your friendships growing with the seven men you found home in, and four years worth of heartbreak every time you hear a rumor or two of them hooking up with some girl in your class or down the club.

Because it fucking hurts.

You dump the whole tray into the recycling bin angrily, everything remaining to be uneaten as you had no more appetite after that shitty display, and trudge to your car--a Bentley, a high school graduation gift from the boys.

What did those women have that you don't?

You were quite pretty if not flawless, what with all the luxurious high end spa trips Jimin dragged you to.

You had a nice body because Jeongguk the rat hauled your ass every damn morning to the gym.

You were smart courtesy of Namjoon's strict weekly tutorials.

You were athletic enough to join a state team if you so wanted, Yoongi whose love for sports overrode anything else in his hindbrain made sure of that.

You were a great dancer! One of the best in Hoseok's private studio.

You had refined taste in art and modelling if Taehyung had anything to say about that.

And you were a damn good cook, or Seokjin will burn out his eyeballs otherwise!

In fact you cooked for Bangtan all the time!

So what was wrong with you?

Not realizing that the supposed drizzle pelting your cheeks were your own tears, you sniffle down the parking lot and slink inside your car, shoulders slumped, defeated, your heart sour from pining for so, so long.

Maybe you just weren't attractive enough for them.

They certainly didn't give any sort of, any small modicum of interest your way.

After all, you didn't exactly fit in.

You may be close with the most popular heart throbs on campus but you weren't popular yourself.

In fact you'd think all of the women hated you for even daring to live and breathe the same air as Bangtan.

With a frustrated huff, you key in the ignition and hike it out of there.

Dampened spirits distract you and you play a tune on the radio only to fumble when Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok's melodious voices sing to the beat of their self produced rap.

The only thing is, you pass under the campus bridge, and you fail to notice the two students carelessy lugging around a huge frame of glass labelled 'For the art department', just as a huge and strong gust of wind lets the thing fly off the hinges and directly headed straight for your shocked face.

You fail to note the several strangled screams as your world coalesces into shadows.

Next chapter

#bts x reader #bts fic #bts imagines #bts army #bts angst with a happy ending #college life #fuckboy fratboys #fratboys bts #comatose reader #unrequited to requited #not really unrequited #no pwp check my other account for that content #rated t

[graff1980]

A shifty jean jacket wearing dude was headed to the north shore to get fucked more than he ever had before,

but instead of getting laid he got played by a mean dame with a switch blade.

Now the red puddle grows as his blood flow slows, and he knows it’s the end of his show.

Down by the crosswalk there isn’t much cross talk just an outline of white chalk, and a dark stain on a cement sidewalk.

-2022

#poetry #poem #writerscreed #poets on tumblr #poets corner #spilled ink

[strawberry-spiderwebs]

VIRAL INTERVENTIONS: THE PROJECT & PROPOSALS

1. Fluxus-Type Posters

Our statement has to do with chaos helping to uninhibit creativity. We thought of printing a large amount of posters with Fluxus inspired instructions to jumpstart the creativity of people around the area/city. The four of us can only do so much alone, but if interested or bored people read the posters and follow any of the instructions in their way, we can spread the idea a lot more. By adding “catalysts” to some of the posters in the more private areas we can probably encourage more interactions. By “catalysts,” I mean things like chalk, flowers, colored water, washable paint, tape, and other reversible creative tools that might inspire people to interact with the posters. People also love free things, so being the person to use the chalk might be an incentive.

We want to aim for 2,000-3,000 posters. I know I can easily put up 500 posters a day as I’ve done this for concerts and bands before. If we could pick the busiest locations and stay nearby for a few days that would also be ideal, because we could take video proof of anyone doing these prompts. We would also put our tumblr or instagram on the posters so people could also film themselves when we otherwise wouldn’t be able to catch them doing these actions.

Reference Images:

Mockups:

Examples:

At the beach: make a sandcastle (will provide a shovel and bucket)

At a gas station: Pop these balloons with your teeth (balloons provided)

At a crosswalk: Cross the street holding this (a piece of foam that looks like a brick). They would put it across the street next to a similar poster.

At a lake: Feed the ducks (include seeds)

At a patch of grass: Water the seeds we put here

At a hill: Roll down the hill

At a parking lot: Hug your car

Outside a grocery store: Paint all the eggs in your carton of eggs (paint provided)

Outside a business building: Play hopscotch

In front of a hospital: Write down a secret you’ve been holding (pen included)

Anywhere: Send us your favorite song or what you’re currently listening to

On a running route: Run backwards for a little bit

Anywhere: Let some rain fall on your tongue

At a gas station: Stop the $ counter on an odd number

Anywhere: Put your shirt inside out

[bumblebeeappletree]

Went and quick did some sidewalk (crosswalk?) chalk art

I only had white chalk so my ideas went down so stars and moons (and one (1) planet with moons) it was.

I want to get colored chalk soon so I could do a four seasons for a four way!

#solarpunk #lunarpunk #sidewalk chalk #chalk art #crosswalk chalk #art #I think we should make our cities more fun and enjoyable

[mattmoorewrites]

Spotted on Bank Street just south of Laurier in downtown Ottawa while walking home the other night. "ACCESSIBILITY" the sidewalk chalk says. I have no way of knowing the person's intention, but sidewalks, curbs, and crosswalks in downtown and Centretown are in rough shape. It can make them difficult or impossible for those with even moderate mobility challenges to use. With the talk about what's next for downtown Ottawa as employers shift to work from home, I hope the state of routes for foot / roll traffic gets attention. #centretownottawa #downtownottawa #ottawadowntown #ottawacentretown #ottawa #ottwalk #ottroll #accessibility (at Shoppers Drug Mart) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjyoI6RLh5y/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#centretownottawa #downtownottawa #ottawadowntown #ottawacentretown #ottawa #ottwalk #ottroll #accessibility

[synapseevents]

Crosswalk Dances

Crosswalk Dances is a series of performances and interactive art activities that enliven pedestrian intersections. These free public events bring dance and community crafts to underappreciated urban spaces and provide a suite of fun, creative, and therapeutic art activities. Guided by professional artists, residents of all ages, abilities, and identities can join, exemplifying our core belief that everyone can make art anywhere, anytime. 

NEXT PERFORMANCES:

Aug 10 - 12 to 1pm at 320 S. Canal

Aug 17 - 5 to 7pm at the Uptown Farmers Market

Aug 27 - 11am to 1pm at Chalk Howard Street

Sept 17 - 12 to 2pm at Jarvis Square

Sept 22 - 5:30pm at the Uptown Library, with a free movement class!

PAST PERFORMANCES:

Sunday, June 19 - Artists of the Wall Festival

At the South end of Loyola Park

Presented by Loyola Park Advisory Council

More information on their website: https://www.loyolapark.org/aotw/

Tuesday, June 21 - On The Move

At Sherman Park

Presented by See Chicago Dance as part of Chicago Dance Month and the Year of Chicago Dance

More information on their website: https://seechicagodance.com/event/move

ALL FREE

All ages, identities, bodies, and minds welcome, access features and wayfinding information to come.

Spanish version follows below/Debajo podrás encontrar la versión en español.

Access and Inclusion Notes

Synapse Arts events actively welcome individuals with diverse identities, including all genders, sexual orientations, races, ethnicities, religions, abilities, income levels, ages, parent/caregiver statuses, backgrounds, and household structures.

All Synapse Arts events are relaxed and sensory-friendly. For accessibility service requests, please contact [email protected].

---

“Danzas en los Cruces Peatonales”, son una serie de performances y actividades de arte interactivas que llenan de vida los cruces y caminerías peatonales. Estos eventos públicos de libre ingreso, tienen como finalidad traer la danza y la artesanía a espacios urbanos subestimados para ofrecer ámbitos de diversión, creatividad y actividades artísticas terapéuticas. Guiado por artistas profesionales, pueden unirse residentes de todas las edades, habilidades e identidades. Demostrando así, nuestra creencia central de que todxs pueden hacer arte en cualquier lugar y en cualquier momento.

Domingo 19 de Junio - Artist of the Wall Festival

Al sur de Loyola Park

Presentado por Loyola Park Advisory Council

Martes 21 de Junio - On The Move

En Sherman Park

Presentado por See Chicago Dance como parte de Chicago Dance Month y Year of Chicago Dance

Notas de acceso e inclusión

Los eventos de Synapse Arts dan la bienvenida activamente a personas con identidades diversas, incluidos todos los géneros, orientaciones sexuales, razas, etnias, religiones, habilidades, niveles de ingresos, edades, padres/cuidadores estados, antecedentes y estructuras domésticas. Todos los eventos de Synapse Arts son relajados y sensoriales. Para solicitudes de servicio de accesibilidad, póngase en contacto con [email protected].

photo by Molly Hillson

thanks to Camilx Rivero Pooley for Spanish translation

__

[qr-closet]

rainbow chalk crosswalk | creator id: MA 1375 6716 7712

#acnh #acnh chalk #acnh crosswalk #acnh pride #acnh city #acnh design #acnh designs #acnh pattern #acnh patterns #animal crossing new horizons #crosswalk #chalk #city #ground #urban #pride #rainbow

[crossingqrs]

a beautiful set of “rainbow crosswalks” designs for your island by 🚂

#acnh designs #acnh crosswalks #acnh rainbows #acnh rainbows etc #acnh rainbow crosswalks #acnh pride #acnh pride etc #acnh pride crosswalks #acnh chalk #acnh outside #acnh outside ground #acnh kidcore #acnh kidcore etc #favs #my posts #acnh paths #acnh misc paths #acnh colorful paths #acnh #animal crosing new horizons #acnh design #acnh custom designs #acnh codes #acnh design codes #acnh qrs #acnh qr codes #acnh custom design #acnh code #acnh island #acnh design code

[skzsauce01]

Bird Is the Word

Synopsis: A series of drunk texts leads to one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to you. Or, Han Jisung is never going to let you forget the time you forgot the word ‘bird.’ College AU. Not a text fic but does include some texts.

Warning: alcohol, a lot of bird puns

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Han Jisung

2:23 AM [Me]: sOS SOS SOS SOSOSOS 2:23 AM [Me]: I NEED HELPPPP 2:23 AM [Jisung Bio]: You okay?? 2:23 AM [Me]: YOU SMART HELPPPPP

2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you want me to call the police?? 2:24 AM [Me]: WHAT ARE THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP CALLED 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Is this a code word? 2:24 AM [Me]: THEY GO FLAP AND EAT SEEDS 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you mean birds? 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you drunk?

2:25 AM [Me]: [blurry_photo_of_your_window.jpg] 2:25 AM [Me]: HERE LOOK 2:25 AM [Me]: YES BIRDS 2:25 AM [Me]: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH 2:25 AM [Me]: LOVE YOUUUUU

In your defense, you were drunk. And when you are drunk, your critical thinking skills disappear and are replaced by pure, uninhibited stupidity. It’s like some twisted Jekyll and Hyde situation, but only when you drink, you transform into this other version of yourself instead of suppressing it.

You mostly remember the things you have done and said while under the influence. The most embarrassing ones tend to be fuzzy. If it weren’t for the grainy phone video taken by Seungmin and your own voice cheerfully declaring that you had an idea, you wouldn’t have realized that you were the idiot who tried to make a chalk mural at the four-way intersection in the middle of the night. You didn’t even have chalk, but that didn’t stop you from drawing on the asphalt with a broken pen you found on the sidewalk.

Good thing Seungmin had the foresight to drag you back to the crosswalk before a car could come speeding by.

However, that legendary act of idiocy doesn’t even compare to this new one. Forget the fact that you could have died.

Your biology class just went over survival of the fittest using Darwin’s finches as an example. How in the world did you forget about the word ‘bird?’ Why did you think it was a good idea to ask the cute guy in your bio study group about “THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP?” And why, why, why did you insist on telling him that you loved him? The ‘THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH’ was already enough.

Jisung is never going to let you live this down.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not like you spent the entire Sunday morning knocking back glasses of water and wishing it was vodka instead. It’s not like you drafted about five different apology messages and deleted them all. It’s not like you have to see him in class tomorrow.

Really, you’re fine.

You go out of your way to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, which probably means you are very conspicuous. Do normal people not wear hoodies and sweatpants to class now, or are you just overthinking everything? The two people in the row in front of you are wearing jeans, and the girl heading down your row has a polka-dotted dress on. A secondary glance at the girl tells you that it’s another member of your study group. Speaking of the study group, maybe you should find another one. Preferably one without Jisung in it.

“Morning,” Lia says as she takes the seat beside you. She sets down her purple water bottle on the floor with a light clink. “How was your weekend?”

Terrible, but you say, “It was fine. I finished up the readings and did some notes. How about you?”

“Those readings took me forever!” she groans. “I was trying to finish everything on Saturday, so I could go out on Sunday. Which I did manage to do, so it all worked out. I got a new dress!” She plucks at the bodice of her dress, and you finally take a closer look at the pattern.

They’re not polka dots. They’re freaking birds — swoopy doves with outstretched wings. Or at least you think they’re doves. Your lack of bird knowledge speaks for itself.

“It’s pretty,” you hollowly say. The universe seems determined to remind you of your texts. Lia’s face falters, and you realize your disdain came across as you lying. “No, it’s not like that! Just… bad experiences with birds. You look really nice in this.”

She brightens up. “Oh, thanks! What do you mean by ‘bad experiences?’ What happened?”

“Good morning, birdbrain!”

“That happened.”

Looking far too happy for a Monday morning, Jisung takes the other seat beside you. He has a cup of coffee stacked high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, and you wonder if his extreme cheerfulness is from the caffeine or from your impending public humiliation. Why did you have to pick this guy to have a crush on? Sure, he’s cute and smart and sometimes nice, but there are plenty of people who have those traits without his witticism.

Lia looks at you with more amusement than concern. “So what happened?”

You tell her about what really happened during the weekend, and Jisung laughs all the while, reenacting his facial expression when he received your first frantic SOS message. Meanwhile, you sink lower and lower into your chair, ignoring your tailbone’s cries of pain as you slide further down the thin cushion.

“You can’t hide forever,” Jisung remarks as he looks at your slumping form. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad. And you were drunk anyway.”

Yeah, you were, but the whole thing is doubly embarrassing because of how much you want him to like you. The overenthusiastic, all-caps messages are normal whenever you text while drunk, but ‘I love yous’ and the even rarer ‘I LOVE YOUUUU’  are few and far between. Only six people excluding Jisung have received them: your parents, your best friend, and your statistics group project members because you accidentally sent the message to the wrong chat.

On the bright side, seven is a lucky number. It means absolutely nothing in this case, and it’s hardly relevant to how you’re feeling, but everyone copes differently. Yours just happens to be clinging onto any silver lining available for solace.

“Anyway,” Lia cuts in, saving you from replying, “you’re here early, Jisung.”

He shrugs and flashes her a playful smile. However, his eyes are focused on you when he says, “You know what they say: early bird gets the worm.”

You give him a pitiful attempt of a withering glare. “I hate you.”

“Okay, fine.” He tugs at the shoulder of your hoodie to motion for you to stop trying to melt into the ground and to help you up. “It’s ‘cause I knew you would be here early.”

You are calm, you are fine, you will not be flustered. He just teased you five seconds ago; you should not be this willing to forgive him under these circumstances. Nonetheless, you slide back up to a more normal sitting position and try to pretend that you are still mildly upset. His next sentences make that impossible.

“You guys want brownies? Felix was stress-baking again.”

One may call you easily swayed by food, and they would be right. Jisung lets you have a coveted corner piece, and you decide that he’s alright again. He stretches an arm in front of you to get to Lia, and you lean back to avoid bumping into him. It also gives you a clear view of his profile. Wow, is he pretty. Look at that jawline. Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his mouth splits into a familiar excited grin.

“Are those birds?”

“Yep,” Lia answers, looking over at you to check your reaction. She tries to hide her smile, but it’s clear as day. You’re not entirely sure what she’s going to say next, but you already know it’s going to involve your current least favorite animal species. “Pretty… dove-ly, don’t you think?”

At least you were right about them being doves. “I hate you both.”

Jisung laughs at her pun and holds out his palm for a high-five. “You know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.”

“I really hate you both.”

Your initial prediction that Jisung is never going to let you live this down is correct. When you meet your bio group again Thursday night to study for the upcoming quiz, Jisung brings lemon poppy seed muffins for seemingly no other reason than to tease you. His housemate is still stress-baking, and judging by the bird silhouette made of glaze, Felix is very stressed and very eager to indulge in Jisung’s ideas.

“They’re finches!” Jisung proudly announces as he sets one right in front of you. The stupid decoration on top mocks you, but the muffin looks and smells delicious.  

Hyunjin, who does not know about your current plight but does know about Darwin’s finches, appreciatively coos at them. “They’ve even got different beak shapes! These are so cool. Man, Felix must hate econ right now.”

“No kidding,” you mutter as you begin peeling off the wrapper. Felix must hate you as well because one bite of this is almost enough for you to forgive Jisung again. It’s that good. How are you supposed to stay mad at Jisung when he gives you free delicious food? “Forget college, he needs to be in culinary school.”

He smirks from across the table, and it takes a lot of willpower for you to pretend you’re unphased. “What if I told you that I made these?”

“Then I would call you a liar.” He better be lying. You do not need another reason to justify your crush on him.

“And you would be right.” He slides his plastic container down to Lia, who has just arrived and is eyeballing the muffins like a predator. “But I did help him.”

“It’s really good,” you admit. You continue nibbling on it, determined to make the muffin last as long as you can. “What part did you help him out with?”

“The birds on top. Turns out drawing them with runny glaze is hard. I gave you the prettiest one, so don’t get mad about the whole bird thing. It goes with what we’re studying too.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you fold the wrapper into halves over and over again. “But only because these are amazing.”

Hyunjin leans in closer, effectively popping the intimate bubble you and Jisung were in. “What’s ‘the bird thing?’”

Fortunately, Yeji has finally arrived, which gives you the perfect excuse to stop Jisung from letting another person know of your drunk texts. You make a big production of pulling out your notebook from your backpack and rifling through your pencil bag for a pen.

“Should we get started?” you ask. Lia nods and uncaps one of her many highlighters.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jisung whispers to Hyunjin, winking at you. You could cry, melt, die. You could do a lot of things, but you opt to stick your tongue out at him. So what if you’re being childish? You can barely concentrate on the real world after that wink. To Yeji, he says, “There’s snacks, if Lia hasn’t eaten them all yet.”

“Hey!”

Hyunjin laughs at her notorious sweet tooth before turning to Yeji. “He gave Y/N the prettiest one, so there’s probably only his fails left.”

“They’re not bad!”

Lia has only had two, so there are more than enough to choose from. Yeji peers inside the container before selecting the one closest to her.

“Is this a plague doctor?” she asks as she suppresses a laugh. “It’s got a top hat.”

Jisung shakes his head and groans. “You chose the worst one on purpose. It’s one of Darwin’s finches. You would have known if you studied.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t draw.” Taking no notice of Jisung’s affronted expression, she takes out the textbook the five of you split the cost to buy. “Okay, plague doctor cupcakes out of the way, what are the four main theories of evolution?”

“They’re lemon poppy seed finch muffins,” he clarifies.

“That’s not an evolution theory,” Hyunjin cheekily replies, earning him an elbow nudge from Jisung and a laugh from everyone else.

You end up answering Yeji’s question and reward your correct answer with another muffin. Besides them being addictive, you’ll need some energy for the rest of the study session if all this talk about birds persists. You select the most plague doctor-ish one out of the box, and Jisung notices.

“Seriously?” he pouts. “I give you the best one, and this is how you repay me? I thought you said you weren’t mad about the bird thing.”

You ignore the last sentence. “What? You’re not proud of these?” you say, mock astonished as you give him a good view of the glaze on top. “They look exactly like plague doctors.”

“I hate you.”

You smile and shrug before returning back into the discussion about Lamarckism. Let him get a taste of his own medicine.

Unfortunately, as promised and as possible revenge, Jisung tells Hyunjin about ‘the bird thing,’ and Yeji overhears since she is only two chairs away. You try melting into the ground instead, but Lia holds you in place as the story continues, so you are stuck reliving the memory. You knew Jisung wouldn’t let you forget, but you didn’t account for everyone else in the group finding out and joining in on the torture.

But thanks to Jisung’s brilliant idea to bring those spectacularly decorated muffins, he doesn’t go unscathed either. It’s a mediocre consolation prize, but you’ll take it.

All around, it’s a productive study session, if a bit long, courtesy of everyone’s unrelenting shots at you and Jisung.

Your study group splits off in three separate directions once you’re all at the library entrance: Yeji back to the on-campus dorms where she’s an RA, Hyunjin and Lia to the off-campus apartments a few streets down, you and Jisung to the bus stop to your apartments on the other of campus. There’s a few people already sitting at the bench, so you and Jisung stand under the streetlight nearby. A moth intent on reaching the light source rams itself repeatedly against the glass covering, and you tiredly watch it. You yawn.

“Not much of a night owl?” he asks. With no clever reply ready, you gently shove him towards the bushes, but he only sways at your push. He throws his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll stop for today.”

“I’m really sorry for sending you that,” you say. You haven’t touched the chat between you and him since the incident. “And for not apologizing earlier.”

“It’s alright. Although I almost had a heart attack when you sent me ‘SOS’ like five times.”

You grimace as you remember your frantic texts. If you think back hard enough, you remember furiously tapping at your screen, trying to get his attention as quick as possible because you really, really, really needed to know what the animal that landed on your windowsill was called. Your housemate was in the next room over. You could have asked her instead, but no, you decided that Jisung from bio was the best option. Not even the group chat, just Jisung himself.

“Sorry again,” you weakly reply.

“It really is alright. Finding bird puns is my new favorite hobby now.” He wryly smiles. “I have so many more to try on you. You’re gonna love it.”

Is that endearing or annoying? Living rent-free inside his head isn’t terrible, especially since he seems to do the same in yours. You’ll probably have to endure lots more puns from him in the future, but for now, you’ll decide that it’s endearing.

The bus arrives, and you sit in the back with him. The ride to the apartment complex is quiet; only a group of people near the front are speaking to one another in low voices. Jisung makes no attempt at continuing the conversation, and you are content to stare out into the neon lights outside the window. You can see him in the reflection on the glass. The empty container devoid of muffins sits on Jisung’s lap, his phone placed face down on the lid. If it weren’t for all the other passengers on the bus, you would be convinced that it was just you and him, enjoying each other’s company.

You’re almost sad when you reach your stop.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” he asks as you step down to the pavement. “Yours is farther down, right?”

“Isn’t your place right here?” you say. You’ve seen him walk out from this particular complex several times while waiting for the bus. That’s not stalking. “You don’t have to go out of your way. It’s just a block away.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely walking you home.”

You hesitate a bit, but Jisung is already taking small steps in the direction of your apartment. A little more time with him doesn’t sound too horrendous right now. “Okay.”

Just like the bus ride, no conversation, which suits you fine. Jisung seems more enthralled by looking into the windows of apartment residents anyway. You can’t blame him, especially when it appears that someone is having their own mini rave in their living room. Once at the doors to your building, you thank him and tell him good night.

“No problem and good luck tomorrow.” His voice is softer at night, or maybe it’s because he’s tired as well.

Your tone matches his as well. “You too. See you in class then.”

“Good night.”

A few minutes after midnight, just as you’re about to get into bed, a message from Jisung pops up. Not Jisung in the study group, just Jisung.

12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Hey, I know you’re not much of a night owl, so would you call yourself a morning lark? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re always an early bird to class 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you emu-sed? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: :D

Well, he did say he would stop for the day. It’s technically the next day. You reply with an annoyed face before burrowing yourself under your blankets. There are other things to worry about, such as your quiz in nine hours.

You dream of birds, namely finches, that night. Thanks, Jisung.

“This is why I tell you to never drink alone,” Seungmin laughs. He picks up the last slice of pizza from the pan and folds it in half like the heathen he is before taking the first bite. “Bad things always happen.”

“To be fair, Ryujin was home.”

“In a completely different room from you.”

You groan and supplement your exasperation with an extra aggressive tear on your crust. “Okay, fine. I’ve learned my lesson. The point is, he won’t stop with the bird jokes, and I’m going insane.”

Seungmin, having been collateral damage from your drunken mishaps before, is unsympathetic. He still hasn’t quite forgiven you for the time you tried to make a Molotov cocktail in his kitchen. Look, the clickbait video you watched online promised that it would be a fun and easy science experiment, and your other self decided that it was a fantastic idea. Nothing bad happened in the end though since you couldn’t find a lighter. So, Seungmin, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“You have a crush on this guy. Why are you upset that he’s flirting with you?”

“He’s cute until he opens his mouth and starts giving me grief about birds.” You sigh as you remember the last text he sent: a photo of the sunset from his apartment window with the caption, A bird’s eye view of the neighborhood. On one hand, you were thrilled to have received a non-homework related picture. On the other hand, bird joke.

“You would do the same.”

“I know, but it still sucks.” You wipe your fingers with a napkin and amuse yourself with spinning the empty pan as Seungmin (slowly) finishes eating. “No more Jisung talk. How was your date?”

Seungmin turns flustered, just like you knew he would. “It wasn’t a date! I’m just her photographer. This is a business arrangement, nothing else.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Hey, is that Jisung over there?” he asks, nodding over your shoulder.

“I’m not that gullible,” you sigh, though you can’t say you aren’t tempted. Seungmin loves to make fun of you, and he probably wants to get back at you for teasing him about the girl he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time with.

“Gull-ible?”

“Not you too," you plead. It's already awful with one person. To deter him any further, you continue, "Anyway, back to your definitely-not-a-date date—”

“Hey, Y/N, is that you?”

Seungmin has his “I told you so” face on. After sending him a glare, which he promptly pretends not to see, you turn around, resting your forearm on the back of your chair. Jisung, holding a pan of oven-fresh pizza, smiles back at you.

“Hey,” you greet. He's wearing the same black and red sweatshirt he usually has on, but why does he look so much better in it when he's in a pizza place than in class or in the library? “How are you doing? How’s your Saturday so far?”

“I just woke up like an hour ago, so it’s been pretty good, I guess.” His eyes go to Seungmin, who is now sipping on his soda, pretending to not eavesdrop. “Is this your…”

“This is my friend, Seungmin,” you quickly answer. Other than the fact that you need to make it abundantly clear that you are available, there is no way you’re ever going to date Seungmin. Apart from the girl he claims to not be dating, he’s even more merciless when it comes to reminding you about your drunken ideas. You can’t pass the intersection without him nudging your arm. “Seungmin, this is Jisung. We have bio together.”

Seungmin nods like he hasn’t heard of Jisung before. “Hey, nice to meet you. So, do you guys learn about birds in bio?”

Jisung lights up like a Christmas tree, and you want to cover yourself with the pizza pan. Praying for the ground to swallow you up also sounds like a decent option. In the midst of debating whether hiding under the table would be too odd, you notice that Seungmin has finally finished his slice.

“We should get going,” you interrupt. You do not need Seungmin to start sharing other stupid things you’ve done. He’s about five seconds away from telling Jisung about the intersection chalk mural. “And you probably want to eat dinner.”

Jisung sees right through your act, but he lets it go. “Yeah, Felix is probably starving. See you on Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

You expect him to go to wherever Felix is, but he still remains behind you. With a lopsided grin, he asks, “Should I expect any quail-ity texts at 2 AM tonight?”

Seungmin laughs, Jisung laughs, and you stare at the ceiling, wondering what you did to deserve this. Surely there were other people you could have in your life besides these two jerks.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Jisung sings as you correctly answer his question. This week’s study session consists of a game show Jisung has created, and you almost want to believe that he put in all this effort just to say that phrase. “Another point for you.”

You sigh as Yeji slides a wrapped piece of candy towards you. It’s her turn to bring snacks, and though milk chocolate the size of golf balls are great, you’re still dreaming of those wickedly delicious cake slices Jisung shared with you yesterday. Hummingbird cake, he claimed, it was called. Bananas, pineapples, and pecans, all combined together to make a sweet treat. When you cheekily asked why his housemate was so stressed all the time — you really don’t mind. Sorry, Felix — Jisung cheerfully informed you that he made the entire thing himself. After you picked up your jaw from the floor, you stammered something about it being passable. Not nearly as good as Felix’s stuff, you said, lying through your teeth. Jisung, again, saw right through it but let it slide. See? Sometimes he’s nice. However, you did not need another reason to be attracted to Han Jisung, but here you are.

“Seriously, Yeji?” you mumble as you pull apart the blue foil. “You just had to pick the brand named after a bird?” It doesn’t stop you from popping the chocolate into your mouth though.

“They were on sale!”

While you and Yeji bicker about Dove chocolate and how the universe is conspiring against you, Hyunjin answers the next question correctly. Yeji absentmindedly pushes his reward towards him.

“No chicken dinner for me?” he asks.

Jisung shakes his head. “Your question was easy. You get a pheasant instead. Or a quail. Any bird smaller than a chicken works.”

“A hummingbird then?” you suggest. You really need to stop thinking about that cake. “But I hear those aren’t that great.”

“You already ate every single crumb of that cake I gave you!” Jisung says, but there’s not a drop of displeasure in his tone. In fact, he seems rather happy that you liked it so much that you remembered about it. “All my hard work gone in five seconds.”

“You made her a cake?” Lia gasps in disbelief, secretive note checking forgotten. She’s in last place with only six points, so no one cares too much about her cheating. “What about us? We’re your study buddies too!”

Hyunjin and Yeji chorus their agreements, and you realize that he only shared his cake with you. He followed you out of the lecture hall and gave it to you in a plastic container, so you assumed that he also hand delivered a few slices to everyone else. Never mind that he oh-so-conveniently had a fork with him. Never mind that he sat with you at a bench and watched you try a few bites before devouring it all. Never mind all that.

Wait. Does this mean he likes you too?

You fold and unfold your discarded foil wrappers as you contemplate over this revelation, sneaking glances at Jisung all the while. He looks… normal. Infuriatingly so. Same carefree smile, same arguments with Hyunjin, same lackadaisical chair leaning even though he fell backwards that one time. How is one supposed to tell if someone actually likes you when said someone is the same all the time?

Jisung promises to bring something for the next study session to make up for not sharing his cake and continues on with the review game like nothing has happened. However, those thoughts are still in the back of your mind when the session ends. You have gained five more pieces of chocolate and no further information as to whether Jisung is actually into you or not. As per usual, you and he head to the bus stop together. It’s more crowded than last week since it’s only eight.

“Did you have a pheasant time today?” he asks, pausing next to a hedge.

You keep your eyes on the asphalt instead of looking at him. It’s much easier to pretend you’re calm when you don’t have vision of his face. “I see you discovered pheasants recently. And yes, it was fun. Thanks for making it.”

“You don’t want to crow about winning the game?” When you grimace — you did kind of want to point out how amazing your score was but now you don’t — he quickly adds, “Okay, okay. But you’re going to ace that quiz tomorrow.”

And you simply say, “I know,” because you are and because you have nothing else prepared to say.

It goes quiet, and with only the sounds of cars racing by, Jisung abruptly says, “This is a little awkward now. Or should I say… hawk-ward?”

You groan and break your staring contest with the road to give him an exasperated look. A mistake because he’s smiling so wide, squirrels would be jealous of his cheeks. He has no right to be so cute after those jokes. “Why do I feel like you searched up ‘bird puns’ online and are trying to insert them in every possible scenario?”

“Because I did and because I am.” He sighs in contentment. “Those were the best texts I’ve ever received. I’m never letting you forget it.”

You were right about that, and now you have verbal confirmation from the man himself. Another mediocre consolation prize you will gladly accept. But for now, you say, “Well, toucan play at that game, plague doctor Han Jisung.” The only perk of hearing all these wretched jokes is that you are now rather knowledgeable about them. Thank you, Seungmin, for making that one a few days ago.

“They looked just like finches!” he protests, but he’s laughing along, head tilted back. He sighs again. When he turns to face you again, his eyes are soft. “That was a pretty good one.”

“Seungmin came up with it.” There’s a warm feeling spreading across your chest, constricting your air flow and making all your blood rush to your cheeks. It was one compliment; why are you like this? What are you going to do if he keeps looking at you like that? You swiftly go back to the road, counting the number of cars that pass by. One, two, three, four…

And a gray bus pulling up to the curb.

“Bus is here,” you uselessly announce. Jisung follows you into the growing crowd surrounding the entrance. He hovers behind you as the two of you wait for the people in front to board, and his presence is more palpable than usual. “There’s a lot of people today,” you remark in a vain attempt to distract yourself.

“Yeah, everyone’s heading home for the day.” He pauses dramatically before adding, “The birds are all going back to their nest.”

The joke successfully snaps you out of your haze. “That’s not a real saying.”

“I think it should be. It makes perfect sense!”

“You’re—” As the line shuffles forward, you try to think of something bird related, but he beats to the punch.

“Cuckoo?”

It’s almost impressive how much time he has invested in annoying you. Does it make you fall for him more? No, not really, or so you try to convince yourself. It’s strangely endearing, just like everything about him. You merely answer, “Yes.”

He chuckles and nudges you forward up the steps of the bus.

Even though there’s a little bit of daylight left, Jisung walks you back to your apartment building. You’re not upset by this, but where was this chivalry two weeks ago after the first study session? You teasingly ask him about it, and he turns bashful. How unlike him.

“I thought you lived in my complex, for some reason. You were always at the bus stop before me, so I assumed you lived nearby. I didn’t know until I overheard you and Yeji talking about it,” he says, hiding himself with his collar.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of the walkway to your building, “see you tomorrow then. Thanks for walking me back. Good night.”

The Jisung you’re used to seeing, is back with a mischievous smile and yet another joke. “Good night-ingale.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to seem too amused by it. He’s not charming, not even a little bit. “That was awful.” It’s the smile, you tell yourself. No one should have one like that. It has too much power.

“Yet I can see you smiling at it.”

Remain calm. You can do that. You’ve faked this before, so why is your head not cooperating right now? Jisung really needs to stop looking at you with anything more than a neutral face. It’s bad for you, like really, really bad. No witty remarks at the ready is typical, but you can’t even think of anything to say.

After an excruciating five seconds, you manage to stammer out, “Good night.” Cheeks aflame and your heart threatening to pop out of you like a cuckoo clock, you roughly yank open the door and bolt up the stairs. You have too much adrenaline in you right now. Waiting for the elevator knowing that he could be observing your twitchy movements, would be too nerve wracking.

Ryujin asks if you’re alright when she sees you hunched against the kitchen counter, out of breath and muttering to yourself.

“I decided to take the stairs,” you say, which only partially explains your dishevelled state. “I’ll be alright. I think.”

“I’ll get you some water. You look like you're about to collapse.”

Then your phone chimes with a new message, and you decidedly won’t be alright.

8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Did my nightingale pun quack you up that badly? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Was it that ducking good? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: :D

8:23 PM [Jisung Bio]: Anyway, good luck tomorrow. Sleep well and sweet dreams, morning lark

There is no food in the fridge. Well, no proper food. A bag of spinach that expired three days ago but still seems okay, does not count. The same goes for the half empty jar of peanut butter, but Ryujin would likely disagree with that. There’s a reason why the jar is half empty. However, if you actually want to eat something for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow, you need to go shopping.

For some strange reason, it does not occur to you that you can run into Jisung at the grocery store. Jisung belongs in four locations: the bus stop, the lecture hall, the library, and the pizza place you saw him at last week. Not the dairy aisle on a Wednesday night.

“Hey.” You stop in front of him, basket at your feet and hands folded in front of you like the world’s worst defense. Heart, stop beating so fast.

Jisung looks up from his phone to search for the owner of the voice and brightens when he sees that it’s you. “Hey, morning lark.” He has taken to calling you that ever since he sent that particular message. You wish it produced another reaction from you besides pure bliss, but that is the price you pay for pretending to be still annoyed by his jokes. That’s how bad your crush on him now is; you are increasingly beguiled by the puns. “Oh, did you need milk?”

“Yeah.” You grab a blue carton with a picture of a smiling cow from the shelf and place it in your basket. In the meantime, you can’t help but peer into Jisung’s. There is a bag of chocolate chips and a packet of gelatin. “Is this stuff for tomorrow’s study session?”

He nods and grabs the same brand of milk as you did. You get a rush of excitement, much to your chagrin. It’s just milk, and this is the most popular brand too. “Yeah. Felix is trying a new recipe, so you guys get to have some of the failed ones too.”

“What is it? Cheesecake?”

“You’ll see,” he mysteriously says. Then he adds, “You’re gonna love it,” which immediately gives away the theme.

“It’s something to do with birds, isn’t it?”

“You’ll see.”

And when you do see, you’re wrong. Library food rules ignored, at each seat, Jisung has set a slice of layer cake topped with chocolate ganache, no bird motifs of any sort. You take your usual spot at the end of the table and find that yours is slightly larger than the others. Well, except for maybe Lia’s. He has to placate her sweet tooth and her disappointment of not being able to have hummingbird cake.

“Did I not get a message or something?” Hyunjin asks when he takes in the over-the-top display. “Is this a dinner party?”

“Isn’t this against the library’s rules?” Yeji asks as she surreptitiously looks around for any librarians. The surrounding tables of fellow students won’t care.

Jisung elects to not answer Yeji’s concerns. “This is tonight’s snack,” he proudly replies. “Also, Felix wants feedback on it.”

You cut a section off with the plastic fork and marvel at the airiness of the cake. It’s unlike anything you have ever had. The frosting in between the sponge layers is so light, and the ganache is so dark and rich. “This is really amazing. It’s so fluffy. Wow. Tell Felix that he really needs to consider culinary school.”

“Wanna guess what it’s called?”

“Isn’t this just an extra fancy vanilla cake?” you ask. You take another bite, but other than the chocolate ganache on top, you can only taste vanilla. “I don’t know. The… vanilla fluff cake?”

“Nope.” He leans forward, face inches away from yours, lips curled into a smirk, and slowly says, “Bird’s milk cake.”

This can’t be real. Birds don’t even produce milk. “No way. You’re lying.” Even as you say the words, they sound false to your ears. Jisung has made it his mission to find anything and everything bird-related for you, so you doubt he’s lying.

“It’s called this” — he holds up his phone screen — “in Russian. It translates to ‘bird’s milk.’”

Ptichye moloko.

“You convinced Felix to make this, didn’t you?” you say. What are the chances that Felix conveniently wanted to make bird’s milk cake without any nudging from Jisung? Absolutely none. You have never even heard of this dessert before, let alone by it’s Russian name, and you’re willing to bet that Jisung searched up ‘bird cake’ or something of that nature just for this. Maybe that’s how he found out about hummingbird cake too.

“It’s all for you, morning lark,” he cheerfully replies, winking at you. He leans back in his chair again, precariously balancing on the two back legs. “I knew you’d like it.”

Jisung is really not making this easy for you. Forget subtleties, he’s just shamelessly flirting with you now. And in the sanctity of the library of all places! In a poor attempt to save yourself from this mess, you unconsciously begin to slide down the chair, trying to shield your hot face with your raised shoulders. Lia notices this — one of the perks having sat next to you for nearly four weeks during lectures — and grabs your forearm.

“No melting,” she reminds you, “or else you’re going to hit your head on the seat again.”

“I wasn’t melting,” you protest as you wriggle back up. Slowly dying might have been a better descriptor. That wink shot arrows into your already fragile heart. “We’re gonna get in trouble if one of the librarians sees this.”

“Guess we should get started then,” Hyunjin says. Yeji, the only responsible one in the group, begins pulling out the textbook, and everyone laughs at her eagerness. “Not what I meant, but that too.”

After you’re done with the cake and while the others are preoccupied about the timeline of human evolution, Jisung whispers across the table, “Did you still like it?”

“Yeah. No hard feelings about the name because it was good,” you whisper back.

“I thought it would turn out like this, morning lark. I know you love free food too much to be mad.”

The nickname again. You rest your cheek against your palm in a vain attempt to tamp down the growing heat. “Can I get a different name, plague doctor?”

He’s not at all phased by his own nickname, which doesn’t bode well for any future snarky remarks from you. “What, you don’t like birds or something?” He blinks so innocently back at you that you have to stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, well, that’s the—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Hyunjin interrupts, making you profusely blush and Yeji lightly laugh at the expression, “we’re gonna move on to the next section now. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” you reply even though you are most definitely not okay. Jisung, who you notice is uncharacteristically sheepish, echoes your sentiment.

It’s difficult not to stare at Jisung during the remainder of the study session. It seems to be true the other way around as well.

You’re sober when you read the messages, but you don’t think Jisung was when he sent them. Oh, how the tables have turned.

3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Good morning morning lark!! 3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Winner winner chicken dinner remember? So yes or no?

3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or maybe yes or yes? 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: I really want to go on a date with you 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Not lying I swear

3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind and every time I see a bird, I think about you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I bought grey goose because of you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: [jisung’s_hand_holding_grey_goose_vodka.jpg] 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I don’t even like it that much

3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You make me dizzy sometimes and I don’t know what to do 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re probably sleeping so good night larky 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or morning

3:06 AM [Jisung Bio]: Fly high in your dreams!!!

He must have been wasted and under no responsible supervision because this is what you would have done if you were in his place. Does he not have a Seungmin in his life? Or a Ryujin? There’s a Felix, so where was he when all of this happened?

But forget about Jisung’s own problems.

He wants to go on a date with you. A real date, not a study date with three other people and fake quiz questions. If his words are to be taken literally, then one involving a chicken dinner. Possibly a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, but a chicken dinner nonetheless.

He can’t stop thinking about you. All those bird jokes had you charmed, and all those cakes were baked with you in mind. They weren’t just for show. They were all about you.

You make him dizzy, which is hilarious because he does the same to you. He smiles at you so brightly, laughs so easily, and flirts so shamelessly that you never realized that you could ever make him feel that way.

And “fly high in your dreams?” You’re practically soaring in real life. Han Jisung, cute bio boy, plague doctor, pun enthusiast, surprisingly decent baker, wants to go on a date with you.

You, you, you!

While you alternate between hyperventilating and forgetting how to breathe as you process all this, three gray dots appear at the bottom of the chat. You clutch your phone as you wait. Apparently, your body is on the ‘forgetting how to breathe’ cycle.

11:14 AM [Jisung Bio]: I am so sorry about that. I was very drunk when I sent that

11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: You can just ignore them or delete them 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Highly recommend deleting 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Also sorry if I woke you up

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. Should you answer him over text, call, or in-person? Is in-person too dramatic though? You feel like something like this is supposed to be done face-to-face, but he’s probably hungover beyond belief.

11:16 AM [Me]: It’s okay. A morning lark is always up early anyway :) 11:16 AM [Me]: Were you serious though?

11:17 AM [Jisung Bio]: Can we meet up in an hour? At the bus stop? I want to talk to you 11:17 AM [Me]: Yeah. Me too

The bus stop is neutral territory or maybe just the closest meeting spot you and Jisung have. If it’s supposed to be neutral territory, it most definitely is not since his apartment complex is right behind it. Despite his close proximity to the spot, you arrive first, so you make yourself as comfortable as possible underneath the sign, standing in its shadow. It’s silly when you think about it, but you wish you dressed in something nicer than a hoodie. In your rush to leave the apartment, you threw on whatever, but maybe you should have worn something prettier for this confrontation. Make Jisung go dizzy and gain a little bit of power from that.

This is even worse than when you had to face him after you sent your drunk texts. At least then it was just a middling attraction and not a full-on crush.

“Hey, morning lark. You’re early. As expected.”

“Hey. You’re… alive.”

Jisung is strangely fresh-faced, not a hint of hungover clouding around him. Why can’t you look like him after a night of seemingly heavy drinking? Where are the pinched eyebrows from the blinding lights? The ghostly gray face? The haunted eyes as one remembers all the incredibly stupid things they did the night before? Unfair. Completely unfair.

“Yeah.” He’s wearing his usual sweatshirt, but his hands are stuffed into its pockets instead of being out and about. He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, uh, I meant everything I sent. And I’m serious about taking you to dinner, so do you want to go on a date with me?”

You anticipated this. Why does it feel like you have just finished running a marathon? “Yeah, I do. I really want to.”

He smiles so brightly, the sun would be jealous. Correction, should be jealous. You don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight than this since he sat down next to you on the first day of class and asked if you wanted to start a study group. He pumps his fist in the air like he’s a movie character, and you hide your laugh behind your hoodie sleeve. You’ve never seen him so happy before.

“How are you not hungover?” you ask as he raises his face to the sky, taking in the afternoon light, basking in the moment. He’s really living his movie character dreams. “You said you were really drunk.”

“I kind of lied?” he says, sounding more wistful than you would expect. When he looks back at you, you finally see dark circles underneath his eyes, but he is still as jubilant as before. “I was more tipsy than drunk. So, when do you wanna get that chicken dinner, winner, winner?”

It’s amazing how shy, excited Jisung disappears and how the usual casual, teasing Jisung reappears. That’s his Jekyll and Hyde moment, you suppose. And the switch is all activated by his one-track mind of bird jokes. How wonderful.

“Next week, after midterms? I’ve got two this week to study for. I should be free on Friday night.”

He enthusiastically nods. “Sounds good to me.”

2:57 PM [Me]: I’m done with all my midterms! Are you free tonight?

2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Free as a bird :D 2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Also congrats on being done 2:59 PM [Me]: I hate you

3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: So chicken dinner? The restaurant next to the pizza place just opened 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: I heard it’s really clucking good 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: A hen out of hen

3:01 PM [Me]: I might actually kill you during our date

3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Don’t you mean 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: [flock_of_crows.jpg] 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Murder :D

3:05 PM [Jisung Bio]: I’ll see you at 6? 3:05 PM [Me]: See you then

You do not end up murdering Jisung on your date, though you do come pretty close after you audibly ask the ground to swallow you up when he compliments your egg-cellent outfit.

“Swallow?” he slyly says. “Like the bird?”

Instead of committing a crime, you kiss him on the cheek, effectively silencing him. You’ve been waiting to do both those things for some time now, and look at you now, killing two birds with one stone.

Jisung turns a delightful shade of pink and mutters something about needing to get to the restaurant before it gets too crowded. All of his bluster from just five seconds ago is gone. You merrily follow him down the pavement, feeling a little bit like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Yes, you did search up bird expressions beforehand. Jisung will be Jisung, and like you told him before, toucan play at this game. You will not spend your first date with him being humiliated by his large repertoire of puns. Besides, if he retaliates like you expect him to, you will have the perfect excuse to kiss him again.

See? No fowl play at all.

Then he takes your hand into his, his warmth enveloping yours, and everything suddenly isn’t fair again.

And based on his all-too-pleased grin, Jisung knows this as well.

~ ad.gray

#stray kids #skz #han jisung #han #han fluff #jisung fluff #jisung fic #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids au #skz au #college au #20210520

[wordsfromthesol]

Hunted

Author: @wordsfromthesol​ Taglist: togasbetch malfoys-demigod pricetagofficial Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You're a detective at Bludhaven PD with Dick Grayson and when a serial killer your after starts hunting you down, you have no choice but to ask for his help. Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking Word Count: 2.3k

You had been working at Bludhaven PD for about 2 years before the hotshot Dick Grayson came on the scene. Though you had grown into friends or at least friendly coworkers…he annoyed the shit out of you. After all, everything seemed to come so easy to the pretty boy Grayson and you could count the number of times you had actually seen him at the station on one hand. Thankfully this happened to be one of those times because you had run out of options.

"Dick, can I get your eyes on this case? I'm been staring at these files for hours and can't find the pattern. Yeah, they've obviously got a type. But that's not enough to go on."

Dick briefly runs through the file before staring blankly up at you. "You can't be serious, right? You need to take yourself off this case."

"People are dying, Dick." You had already assumed you would get some pushback from the star detective.

"I can't let you go after this guy. You're an exact match to all 5 people they've killed." Dick attempted to reason with you, to no avail.

"Then I'm the exact person who should go after this guy. Rather it be me than some civilian." Finally, Dick relented and gave you some useful information.

"Well…everyone was taken near an abandoned subway line." He takes out a highlighter and marks up the map. You tried to mask your nervousness as the bright yellow line stopped a block from your apartment.

"Thanks…I didn't even notice that." He nodded, still apprehensive about giving you the information, as he handed the file back to you. Tucking the papers away, you decided to finish up the research at home. 

As you sauntered home, you were barely able to keep your eyes open. Stopping at the crosswalk, you noticed a man staring at you in your peripheral vision. You swore he was the same man from five blocks ago. Surely you were just paranoid…right? You began weaving in and out of the crowd, making a complete circle back to the crosswalk. Yet there he was in the corner of your eye. This wasn't paranoia. This was real. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and pressed Dick's contact card.

"Hey, uhm…remember that case we were talking about today?"

"You mean literally 20 minutes ago? Yeah, I remember."

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips, "Well you were probably right." Dick could hear the shakiness in your voice.

"He's following you, isn't he?"

Your current situation momentarily left your mind as the words tumbled out of your mouth, bypassing the brain. "How the fuck could you possibly know that?!"

"Don't go home. I'm coming to get you." You wanted to plead with him to stay on the line, but your stubbornness got the best of you. Slowing your pace, you attempted to stay in the crowd and walked straight. How was Dick even going to find you? As soon as the thought danced across your mind, there he was, as if you summoned him from thin air.

"Y/N!" The familiar voice called out from the street. A deep sigh of relief flooded over you as you trotted over to him. Crawling on the back of the motorcycle, you didn't bother asking where he was taking you. Anywhere was better than here.

**

"Wow. Just wow." Dick shook his head in awe as he climbed off the bike, ushering you into the apartment building.

"It's not like I planned it." You tried to force the uneasiness from your voice.

"Right, of course not. You realize he had to have been following you for days now, right? He knows where you live. You can't go back there." You hadn't really thought about that, yet where were you supposed to go? You looked at him pensively, unable to form a proper sentence. "Looks like you're staying here then." The alacrity of the statement caught you off guard.

"I can't just --"

"Right right. So let's go antagonize the serial killer. Genius." The sheer amount of sarcasm took you aback, this was a completely different side of the infamous Dick Grayson than you were used to.

You glared at him as he opened the door to his apartment. "So dramatic…besides, someone has to stop him. He's already after me, so I'm the perfect bait."

Dick's eyes went wide. He looked at you like you had three heads before bellowing, "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"

"Do you have a better plan?" Part of you hoped he would begin rattling off some convoluted trap. One that didn't hold your life in the balance.

"Well…not yet. But I'm sure we can think of something. Give me a few days."

**

A few days came and went and you were losing your mind in Dick's apartment. The worst part was, you were never alone. Dick or one of his family members was always by your side. You weren't quite sure how some 14-year-old kid was supposed to do anything if said serial killer showed up, but Dick was insistent.

Finally, you caught a break. Jason, your latest babysitter got called away on some emergency and Dick wouldn’t be home for another hour. Of course, Jason informed you to tell Dick he left just moments ago, which actually worked in your favor. You dialed Captain Holt on your phone and began to strategize. The captain wasn't keen on using you for bait either, but eventually, you swayed him. Everything was planned to take place tomorrow afternoon, a time Dick just so happened to be testifying in court.

"Y/N?" The confusion spread across Dick's face as he opened the door.

"I'm here!" You called out from the bedroom before stepping into sight.

"Where's Jason?"

"Oh, family emergency. But he left like two minutes ago. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay…" Dick didn't sound convinced.

"I also got a call from the captain today. He wants to meet with me tomorrow at 2." You tried to play it off as a casual request, but you knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"What? Why? We still haven't caught the psychopath…plus I have court tomorrow."

"Dick, I'll be in a police station. You can drop me off on your way."

Dick let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine. But I don't like it."

**

You were absolutely terrified, but you tried your best not to let it show through. After all, you asked for this. Dick still seemed uneasy, even as he dropped you off at the precinct. You wondered if he could tell something was wrong. Though there wasn't much he could do at this point, considering he was due in court by noon.

"Y/N. Are you sure about this?" Captain Holt questioned as you walked into his office.

"No. But something needs to be done. This guy doesn't just give up. So either I'm bait and we have a chance at catching him, or I die a horrific death for no reason. Not the best of options."

Holt nodded in understanding, "Well everything is set up. We have snipers in position around the perimeter of your apartment and a dozen plain-clothed in the vicinity."

"So hopefully we have a chance. What about near the abandoned subway entrance? That's how Dick thinks he's staying out of sight."

"Covered. We are ready to go on your command. Though I still think Detective Grayson should be informed of the plan."

"He's in court. So he couldn't help out anyways. The fewer people that know, the better. Let's move."

**

You arrived at your apartment without any issues, though you could feel a million pairs of eyes on you. With everyone watching you, it would be hard to notice one more face. Nevertheless, you persisted, attempting to go about your day in your apartment. The apartment that now seemed so foreign to you, though you had only been unexpectedly ripped from it a week ago.

As the day went on you began to feel more and more lightheaded. Normally, you would chalk it up to stress, but given the situation, you decided otherwise.

"Captain…"

"There is still no sign of him," he ignored the strain in your voice.

"I think…he's already…here." A crashing sound was left ringing through the earpiece.

"I want everyone on her position now! Get me a visual!" Captain Holt's booming voice commanded those around him. "Where are my snipers?!" An eerie silence crept over the line. "Shit." He mumbled before pulling out his phone. The dial tone appeared to mock him until finally the other end picked up.

"What happened?" The stringent words reverberated in the air.

"He has her."

"Goddammit. How did he get her out of the precinct?" Dick didn't wait for an answer. "Because she wasn't in the precinct. How could you let her be bait? You've seen what this guy does!" The anger was bubbling up inside him. Out of everyone, why you. Why did he have to go after you?

"I know."

"How long? HOW LONG HAS HE HAD HER?!" Two cops turned towards Captain Holt as Dick's voice echoed from the speaker.

"About a minute. From her apartment." As soon as the word left his lips, the line went dead. Holt buried his head in his hands. If there was any hope of finding her, it was Dick Grayson.

**

You woke up in a cold, dark, concrete room. "Well, guess that didn't work out as planned…" You mumbled to yourself, or so you thought.

"Really? You thought a bunch of cops in blue jeans could stop me? I've been hunting you for months. Along with the others.  But you. You were my challenge. I memorized everything about you. Your favorite breakfast, your confidants, what time you call your family. Lovely little folks, by the way. And then you thought you could hideaway in that pathetic little Richard Grayson's apartment. The only reason I didn't take you then is because I didn't want to. What kind of challenge would that be? That would have diminished everything!" He carefully stepped around your chair, weaving your hair in and out of his fingers, until he turned to face you. "But now, here you are! My masterpiece! My coup d'etat!" His lips forced their way to yours. "Don't worry, my sweet. I'll take my time with you. After all, the grand finale demands perfection!" The crazed man turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, leaving you with your own horrific thoughts.

It felt like hours had gone by before he returned. When he walked in, his eyes went immediately to your wrists and fingernails, which were now bloodied beyond recognition. "Now I wish you hadn't done that. Blood does not make for a spectacular fossilization." He walked around and surveyed the damage. "I guess it was to be expected though. After all, it wouldn't be fun without the challenge."

"You know, you keep saying that this is some big challenge, yet you gassed me and then tied me up. That doesn't seem like you are really challenging yourself."

"Simple-minded fool! Challenges are not always those of brute force. It took planning and timing to get you here. Those 4 snipers set up on the surrounding roofs? Had to get them out of the way. A delay in your communication device? Truly a necessity. And though you had the foresight to add a few men to the abandoned subway tunnel, they neglected to surveil the associated maintenance hatches. So you see, your perfect encapsulation proves to be quite the…" You noticed a slight furrow of his brow as the sentence broke. "Challenge. Now to finish preparing the resin!" Off he galloped, but you swore something was off. A slight change in his mood.

You heard several loud bangs before your captor fell backward through the door. Nightwing loomed over his grisly body. Then his eyes shot up towards you.

"I'm okay." The words were forced from your throat. With those two small words, Nightwing glared down towards the man and began throwing punch after punch. "STOP! Please!" You screamed out the words, shocked at the vigilante's ferocity. Nightwing's eyes slowly shifted towards you. It was as if a twinge of pain ran its way through his body as he crept towards you. Once close enough, his hands carefully cradled your face until finally, he spoke.

"I don't know what I would have done without you. Why did you do something so stupid?" You could tell he wanted to say the words out of anger, yet a euphoric aura surrounded them instead.

Still confused, you began to answer as he unbound your wrists and ankles. "He wasn't going to give up. This was our chance to catch him…"

"I would've found another way!" The words burst out of him louder than expected. Nightwing let out a sigh as he helped you out of the chair.

"Alright, Dick, I'm sorry." You glanced at him for a reaction...nothing. Worried he didn't hear you, you pushed the point further. "Guess I should be glad you weren't in court long."

Dick stopped in his tracks, finally realizing his mistake. "I…uh…left early." As the two of you got outside, there were a dozen cop cars already swarming the area. Two of the officers came up to meet you.

"Detective! Are you alright? What happened?!" The first began to raddle off questions, but Dick quickly deflected.

"You can find out later. I'm taking her to the hospital. Your man is inside, unconscious."

"I can still talk ya'know…" You mumbled as the officer ran off to inform the others of the new information.

"Yeah, but then you'd try to convince me not to take you to the hospital. And that's not going to happen. But don't worry, the captain is on his way there now. You'll get to regale the entire course of events with him."

It was almost scary how well he knew you. "You'll stay too?" The simple question caused an oversize grin to spread across his face, but all he did was simply nod.

#dick grayson #dick grayson fanfic #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson oneshot #nightwing #nightwing fanfic #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing oneshot #dick grayson reader insert #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #nightwing reader insert #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x you #batboys #batboys fanfic #batboys imagine #batboys x reader #batboys x you

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Kevin Lomax

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Kevin met when he was still a little new to the courtroom. He was fresh out of law school, had a few cases under his belt, and was out celebrating his latest victory with a few friends when he just so happened to spot you in the crowd.

- The minute he saw you, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He thought you were gorgeous and he had to stop himself from staring as his friends patted him on the back and stroked his ego.

- Your eyes might have met from across the room a few times and you might have taken turns looking over at each other throughout your time spent sitting at the bar but nothing of value happens until you’re a drink or two in.

- It’s a little later in the night when he finally approaches you. You’re standing/sitting at the bar and he comes up behind you, asking if he can buy you a drink and doing so before introducing himself.

- The two of you sit and talk for a bit, blatantly flirting with each other the entire time. He mentions his victory and you congratulate him, asking if his friends mind that he’s sitting there with you instead of celebrating with them. He merely smiles and tells you that “frankly”, he doesn’t give a damn.

- It isn’t long before he asks you if he can take you out sometime and like any rational person, you agree and spend the rest of the night feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

- For your first date, he takes you to a nice little restaurant for dinner. If you weren’t aware already, he’s incredibly charismatic so you find yourself falling for him more and more the longer you sit there with each other.

- You share your first kiss later that night as you’re walking back to his car. You have to pass a crosswalk and while you’re standing there waiting for the little light to let you go, he just leans down and kisses you.

- By the time he’s pulling away, the signs already telling you to go, so he takes your hand and walks you across the street, a handsome smile evident on his face as you try to fight back your own.

- It’s safe to say that the lawyer won you over.

- Kevin legitimately never leaves you the fuck alone when the two of you are together. He’s constantly touching and kissing you to his hearts content. He lives to have his hands on you so expect a ton of Pda.

- Handholding. He usually has to lead you places; whether out of a courtroom or through a crowded bar, so it’s useful habit of his.

- Lots of hugs; oftentimes hugs from behind.

- Him biting your ear. He likes playful, teasing affection that makes you giggle so he does a lot of stupid stuff like that.

- Cheek kisses.

- Neck and back kisses.

- Quick, passionate and somewhat rough kisses. He likes stealing your breath away.

- Lots of making out and …other things.

- Most of the time, he’ll just use a shorter version of your name to address you but the occasional “baby” will slip from his lips from time to time as well.

- Oftentimes, you’ll wind up going to bed alone but whenever he arrives home, he’ll fall into bed behind you and pull you into his arms.

- Falling asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home or be done with his “quick” work problems. You’re going to be interrupted by business a lot; particularly after he goes to New York.

- The best thing you can do is find a couple hobbies and know how to keep yourself busy if you’re going to be in a relationship with Kevin. He’s a busy man and you’re going to be spending a lot of time on your own.

- He knows about all your hobbies and likes listening to you talking about them or showing him what you’ve done. He loves seeing you all excited over something.

- He never does anything without your permission. He needs to know that you approve of something before he finalizes anything. 

 - Being spoiled. He does everything he can for you; he wants you to be as happy as possible.

- After your relationship became more serious; or after you got married, he practically insisted that you quit your job. He didn’t like the thought of you working when he made enough to support you both and he liked coming home to you after a long day so it was only a matter of time.

- Being in the audience of his trials whenever you can.  

- Helping him calm down and loosen up after tough cases.

- He tries not to talk to you about the details of cases most of the time; especially if he feels guilty over defending a certain person. Regardless, you can almost always tell when somethings wrong and immediately start to try and cheer him up.

- He likes messing with you every now and again; usually before he has good news to tell you. He’s a good actor and he uses his skills to psych you out.

- For a man who can be so serious at times, he can also be quite playful, constantly teasing and making you laugh.

- Celebrating with him after he’s won a case. He’ll usually pick you up and spin you around in his arms.

- Walking through the city together and sharing some street food.

- Going to the bar and dabbling in some dirty dancing.

- Going to nice restaurants after he gets a little more of that coin.

- Cheap takeout and a night in. Sometimes it’s just nice to relax on the couch together; usually with your legs in his lap while you watch television.

- Ice skating dates and other fun little things.

- When you lived in Florida, the two of you would cruise around town at night, listening to the radio and occasionally parking to makeout or walk around a certain area.

- Testing out his people reading skills and being amazed by how easy it is for him to dissect a person by their clothes and facial expressions.

- Packing him lunches or having dinner ready for him to come home to.

- Considering the types of people he’s represented in court, he’s probably made a few enemies around town, meaning that some people will just dislike you by default; though oftentimes it’s also out of envy.

- Telling him how proud you are of him. He knows that he’s a good lawyer but it’s nice to hear you say it sometimes too.

- Straightening out his jacket, tie or hair for him. He takes a particular comfort in you fussing over him and giving him motivational talks during breaks or before trials.

- Going to work parties and get togethers with him.

- Getting close to his coworkers wives and spending days with them; all while having a bad feeling settle in your gut.

- Getting targeted by Milton later on.

- His mother usually comes to spend time with you whenever he’s really hung up at work. You appreciate the company, especially when you start getting the same weird feelings as her; though you might chalk up your fear to her religious paranoia getting in your head.

- He tries to be as understanding as he can when you’re upset but he’s not the greatest at it. He’ll usually try to find a reasoning behind why you could be feeling so upset and try to calm you down that way which doesn’t do much good. But at least he tries, right?

- Kevin’s got a bit of a vanity problem but that's sort of a good thing for you because it means that he doesn't think you’d cheat on him; meaning he isn't gonna freak out when other guys so much as look at you. With that being said: I do think he’d occasionally take issue with you being all alone with men/male friends or people he knows wants to fuck you; even if he’s aware it’s irrational.

- Kevin’s not the most protective person in the world but he definitely does everything in his power to comfort you and make sure that you’re safe and happy.

- He’s a lawyer so of course he’s going to be good at arguing with you. The two of you don’t fight all the time but when you do, he’s going to be a bit of a jerk, following you around the house and trying to “win”.

- Because of the way he fights, more often than not, you’ll just have to take a step back and ignore him before you lose it. He doesn’t like the silent treatment and will sometimes spitefully use it himself or ask if you’re “done ignoring him” every time you can’t manage to avoid him.

- Once he thinks a fights gone on long enough, he’ll carefully choose his words and make his apology, telling you that you know he didn’t mean to upset you and so on and so forth. He’d expect you to do the same if you were in the wrong.

- He doesn’t say it constantly but he’ll tell you he loves you every now and again; usually when he’s really reminded of it.

- He’s got the ring already picked out, honey. It’s only a matter of time before you’re picking out a dress and a color for the walls in the nursery.

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