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#idk i kinda tagged this off the top of my head i’m lazy

bubblyhoney · 3 years

Note

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap one shot #sapnap oneshot #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #honey answers #my lovely anon #sapnap fanfic #bubblyhoneyfics

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

ssw | pietro maximoff; you make my heart beat faster. [ suggestive ]

Notes:

Okay, so.. This is kind of a follow up to the one shot I wrote a few months ago, happy birthday. So this picks up the next day. Idk where this idea came from or if it even makes sense when read immediately after that one, but ah well. My brain kept nagging at me to write the thing so I wrote the thing.

[ happy birthday ] for those who haven't read it already.

The translation: ty chuvstvuyesh', chto delayesh' so mnoy, kotenok = "do you feel what you're doing to me, kitten?" loosely via Google translate.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

the daydream of him inside you // seeing the bulge in his pants // you make my heart beat faster. - those were all the prompts / inspiration used to write this.

Fandom / Character:

MCU / Pietro Maximoff x Barton!OFC, Nicola.

Other Writing Nicola / Pietro can be found in:

[ happy birthday ] + several other oooold posts way back on the blog I think. I wanna write a fic for them one day. We shall see, though.

Warnings:

[ NSFW. Absolutely no minors.] If you're underage, this was not written for you -nor should you be reading it. If you choose to keep reading, this is strictly a you problem. I can't do anything about it. I warned you.

Things you need to be warned about before reading: implied sexual encounter.

Yes. I realize that I don't go full into writing out the scene. But there's enough here that anyone underage has zero business reading it. So, I'm warning you guys now.

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@micolegg

@mrsstevenbuchananstark

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. ]

“Are you feeling okay? You’ve barely touched your food, Nicola.”

My mom’s concerned question cut through my thoughts and I made myself smile, nodding. Taking a bite as I replied through a mouthful, “I’m fine. Was just thinking. That’s all.”

“About?” my mom eyed me expectantly. Hints of an amused smile played at her lips. I hesitated for a moment. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost swear that somehow she knew something was up.

,, would it be a stretch to think so? One, she is my mom and two, I’ve been acting skittish and just plain out of it all damn day...” the thought came and as quickly as it did, I shoved it down in the depths of my brain.

I shrugged. “ Nothing in particular.” I gave the vaguest answer I could come up with. If she had one tenth of a clue what I’d really been thinking about just now, I’m honestly not sure how she’d react to it.

I’d been replaying last night over and over again in my mind all day. Every single part of me was dying to ask Pietro if it meant anything or not but at the same time, every single part of me was also scared to death to do that very thing. The one or two times we’d been alone with each other today and I did try, the words got stuck in my throat. And he wasn’t behaving any differently than he normally did, so I kind of just… Let it go. Started to convince myself that making the two of us love the night before was just a one time thing. As my best friend Simone would put it, “Sometimes, you just need to scratch that itch.”

The whole problem with her theory is that even now, having scratched this particular itch.. I wanted to do it again. And again.

I wanted so much more than that too. The brief glimpse I’d gotten of Pietro beneath the sarcasm and the flirty swagger the night before completely did me in. I’d gone from trying hard to keep him at arms length to falling head over feet in love with him and knowing this drove me crazy.

I felt someone staring at me.

I looked up just as Pietro was looking down. Pouting to myself a little, I reached out to grab the spoon in the bowl of mashed potatoes to scoop another serving onto my plate. Pietro reached for the spoon at the same time and when our hands brushed, I felt this little jolt.

He moved his hand but not until he’d let it linger against mine for a second or two. His gaze not leaving mine for the entirety of it. Under the table, my thighs clenched tight. I could see his hands all over me again in my head. Feel his cock buried deep inside me.

I went from a little wet to full on soaked between the mental imagery and the brush of his hand against mine. My stomach coiled.

My body tensed a little.

I dropped my gaze first, busying myself with putting more potatoes on my plate. Pietro kept watching me.

My parents were talking at the head of the table as my mom fed Nathaniel some smushed peas and carrots... My little sister scarfed down her food and then shot out of her chair and out the backdoor to go play a game of tag with my brother in the backyard before it got to dark to play and they had to come inside.

I dared to glance up from shoveling food into my mouth and Pietro gave a teasing wink. Biting his lip as he openly fucked me with his eyes.

And there it went.. The lazy flip flop of my stomach. And no matter what I tried, I couldn’t tear my eyes out of the ocean blue depths of his.

I couldn’t take any more of the torture that was being around him and not having the courage to ask what I was dying to know so I stood and grabbed my plate as soon as I finished eating, making my way into the kitchen to put it in the sink.

I went ahead and washed it while I stood there. I was just drying the plate and about to put it away in the cabinet overhead when I felt Pietro’s muscular body press against me from behind. Wordlessly, he took the plate from my hand and sat it on the top of the stack inside. I turned to face him.

This put us body to body.

I swallowed hard. My mouth opened and closed and for about five or six seconds, I willed myself to say something. Do something.

But I couldn’t bring myself to. Because as much as I was dying to know whether last night was a one time thing or if there was really something between us… Parts of me were scared to death that if I asked, I wouldn’t like the answer.

And that kept me quiet.

Pietro’s hand raised. Reaching out. Brushing strands of hair out of my eyes. I barely restrained a whimper at the touch. His eyes flashed a brighter blue and his head tilted slightly as he stared down at me.

Lost in thought.

His hips pressed into mine harder. When I felt the bulge in his jeans, I took a few shaky breaths. His hand rested on my hip, squeezing. Digging the tips of his fingers into it. He leaned down slightly and his mouth grazed the shell of my ear as he asked, “ty chuvstvuyesh', chto ty delayesh' so mnoy, kotenok?” in a breathless whisper.

If I thought I was wet before, hearing him speak to me in his native tongue had me soaked. Absolutely flooded. The only word I could pick out of whatever he’d asked was kitten. And as usual, when he called me kitten, my heart fluttered just a little more in my chest. He rocked himself into me clumsily and I sucked in a breath.

“Pietro.” I muttered. I was right on the verge of asking him what he’d just said. And asking him about what the night before truly was, if he felt anything or if it just kinda… happened. But just as I thought I’d finally be able to get the words out, it’s like my brain froze up all over again. I frowned at myself in frustration and sighed, shaking my head. “Nothing. It’s silly.”

I heard my dad calling my name from the next room, so I stepped away from Pietro reluctantly and went to leave the kitchen. Pietro grabbed hold of my hips, holding me in place for a few seconds. Staring down at me.

“ I need to talk to you later, kotenok. Alone.”

All I could do was nod. Tell him that I was going to go up to my room in a few minutes.

He nodded.

I stepped away and walked into the next room, only barely managing to pull myself together enough to talk to my parents without either one of them seeming to be aware of just how flustered I truly was.

As soon as I got done talking to my dad, I made my way upstairs. Shutting the door to my room and leaning against it just to hopefully pull myself together.

I still couldn’t.

I flopped across my bed, picking up the Anatomy book and my notebook, preparing to start studying again for the final I had coming up soon and just as I settled into it, there were two knocks at my bedroom door.

I slipped off the bed, wandering over to the door. Opening it.

Pietro leaned in the doorway, gazing down at me. That hungry look in his eyes again.

I stepped out of the doorway and let him into my room, shutting the door behind me. When I turned around to face him, we were body to body. Leaning into me, he put a hand against the door, just above my head. I could feel him straining even harder against his jeans. His other hand raised, resting against the side of my face. Cradling my cheek as he closed the distance between our mouths.

I started out with my palm down. Determined to keep distance between us until I finally worked up the courage to ask my question, hear my dreaded answer and be done, but by the time his tongue slipped past my lips and started to trace my teeth, I was clutching at the front of his fitted black shirt instead. He nipped at my bottom lip, tugging until I felt it swelling under pressure. The kiss deepened until I got so lightheaded I thought I’d melt.

He seemed to sense this because he crushed me against him and the hand cupping my face drifted down. Skimming down my side. Stopping at my hip.

The kiss finally broke so we could breathe and we pulled apart; breathless. Staring at each other quietly. Wide-eyed.

“Kotenok…” he muttered softly. Fondly. His voice dying away as he stared down at me like he was lost in thought. Trying to say something.

“What’s up?” I mumbled, my stomach flipping and flopping lazily.

“Last night was..” he went quiet on me again and I tensed a little, bracing myself for him to continue. Preparing myself in the event that what he was about to say wasn’t what I longed to hear.

So it shocked me when he was closing the distance between our mouths all over again as he muttered in a lust-filled whisper, “Last night was more than just sex. You make me feel things that I haven’t before, kotenok.”

My breath caught in my throat and I didn’t realize it until I finally took a breath and it was shaky. I gazed up at him, letting his words sink in. Trying to wrap my head around it. I went to say something, to tell him that I felt the same way and I didn’t do what we’d done last night often, but he pressed the side of his finger against my lips, silencing me and continued to speak.

“You make my heart beat faster.” he took hold of the hand I had rested against his chest, placing it over his heart. I gasped quietly as I looked up at him again and saw the way he was looking back down at me, a look of pure and total adoration.

He looked nervous as hell. Fidgeting a little. Not quite sure what to do with his hands after he moved one off my hip and let go of my hand with the other. He went to step away, swearing under his breath and I realized that he wanted me to react somehow.

I pressed against him from behind. My hand wrapping around his where it lingered on the knob to my bedroom door. “Don’t go. Please?” I asked in a hushed whisper. Pietro turned around and when he did, I melted against him. Raising my arms to wrap them around his neck. Dragging my fingers through a thick mess of platinum blond. Tugging at it as I rose to tiptoe and crashed my mouth against his. Laughing softly when our noses bumped and our lips connected all over again; hungry. Desperate. Frenzied.

He reached down, twisting the lock on my door knob so that it was locked and no one could come in by accident. A low growl rose up from the depths of his chest, hanging in the air between us only to be swallowed by the kiss as our mouths reconnected and it deepened. I rubbed myself against him clumsily. Needy.

His hands locked across my ass and he slipped me up his body, stepping over to my bed. Dropping me against my mattress softly and positioning himself on top of me. Pressing his hips into mine. Bucking against me as his mouth strayed from my own, working it’s way down the side of my neck. His lips caught on my pulse, making me shiver and rock myself up into him as I gave a needy whine and raised my legs, squeezing his hips with my knees. The kiss broke and he muttered against my mouth with a teasing grin, “ Think you can be quiet for me, kotenok?”

“ I can try.” I whimpered as his mouth worked down the front of my throat, teeth scraping against skin. Stubble tickling me. Making me cling to him as he snapped his hips against me and his hands moved down between us, catching in the hem of my shirt. He pulled me up to a sitting position and pulled my shirt off, tossing it onto my bedroom floor. I tugged at his shirt, whining impatiently and he chuckled. Nipping softly at my bottom lip as he teased, “Patience.”

“Pietro.” I pleaded.

He tugged his shirt over his head, letting it settle on the floor near mine. And then he was leaning in. His hands moving up my sides. Stopping to squeeze my breasts, growling to himself quietly before reaching around. Hooking a thick digit beneath the band of my bra and working the clasps free. He pulled it off, balling it up and tossing it on the floor with the rest of our clothes as he leaned into me even more, my back pressed flat against my bed all over again. He positioned himself on top of me, his body spreading my legs wide and as his head dipped down, my fingers curled in my blanket and thick blond hair.

His mouth worked across my collarbones. Then lower. He squeezed my tits together, mouth diving down. Latching onto one of my nipples. Tongue circling lazily until he’d teased it to a point and I was squirming beneath him, rocking my hips, desperate for any kind of friction I could get. My fingers caught in the waistband of his jeans and I worked the button and the zipper free. He pulled away and slipped off the bed to shed his jeans and underwear and eyed me hungrily. Leaning down. Meeting my gaze with a mischief filled smirk as he took off my pants. Holding my gaze the entire time.

I kicked my pants free at the ankle and he was on top of me again. The tip of his thick cock brushing right against my fabric covered crotch as he bucked into me and muttered against my mouth, “Are you ready for me, kotenok?”

“Please?” I begged breathlessly, barely managing to keep my voice a whisper as I did so. When he smirked at me as if he were pleased with himself, I realized exactly what his goal was.

He wanted to see just how close he could get me to getting loud.

I pouted up at him and he chuckled. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re being a tease. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Oh?” he muttered, his hand disappearing between us. Slipping into my panties. Fingers working me open. Burying deep in my throbbing, wet sex. I arched my back and gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging at it as I rocked against his hand.

It wasn’t enough. I wanted him buried to the hilt inside of me. Now.

But Pietro was in a teasing mood tonight. Something told me that the more I begged, the more he was going to prolong it. And if I didn’t beg? He’d prolong it.

I was absolutely fucked.

One way or another, he was going to have me screaming his name by the end of the night.

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff oneshot #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff fanfiction #pietro maximoff one shot #pietro maximoff imagines #pietro maximoff x oc #my writing ; pietro maximoff #my oneshots ; pietro maximoff #my fics ; pietro maximoff #// absolutely no one (0) underage. minors dni.#// implied s*xual content #// i'm warning you guys here so everyone knows... even if it doesn't actually go into great detail.

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gamerwoo · 4 years

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Jihoon: Unfamiliar (Part Eight)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, familiar au, fantasy, fluff, smut (it’s kinda rushed bc i was lazy lmao, unprotected sex, fingering, super nervous jihoon trying so hard to act cool lmao, biting/marking, idk there’s not much to warn yall about)

Word count: 2,008

Summary: Jihoon’s never really been considered a warm or affectionate person. His pack teases him about what it’ll be like when he finally gets a mate, but he doesn’t worry about it. Little do they know that his mate is a lot closer than they think.

Tag list: @choiminjae0325 @heolykpop @fullsun-donghyuck @yoonbabe-d @exuwu @lets-get-1t @vintageot5 @sehunnies-hunnie96 @childfmoonn @wobwobkpop @henloimawierdobye @dirinast @joshwoah @wreckedbytae @salty-for-suga @janellxu @xu-miseo @uglyratlmao @sakura-uji @littleheartsays @onewoowonderboy @xxbluestrifexx @starlightshua @artistic-rendition @yunception @mrsfandomz @psshwa @peachy-hoon @chaseyui@haven-cove @jisungsdreamy @belledamsceno @saxtaee @k-pop-ology @uglychildd @eclvpe @killcomet @meowtella @coupsiekkuma (if you wanna be added please send an ask!! also please know that unfamiliar is apart of the entire tftp series so this tag list carries over to all of the other tftp stories)

Unable to tag: @birthday-prinxess @sooooofrench @junuoyi

Previous | Next | Unfamiliar Masterlist

Despite how flustered Jihoon got whenever he was cuddly with you or you were affectionate with him, he couldn’t stop himself. He was almost always touching you in some way, earning soft chuckles or teasing smiles or almost inaudible jokes from his pack. The teasing did eventually become old, but Jihoon’s blushing never stopped.

But with you now knowing you were Jihoon’s mate, there was only one thing he had to worry about now other than you going to the market without hiding your ears and tail: marking. To say he was nervous was an understatement, but so would be saying he was excited. He just wanted you to belong to him in every single sense, and marking was that last step. But Jihoon was Jihoon and despite being unable to control his instincts to want to be near you all the time, he was still shy and awkward and couldn’t manage to initiate anything.

How he wasn’t a virgin was a mystery to just about everyone.

Then again, those were just random people before. You were his mate. This was special and important and something he didn’t want to mess up. He wanted it to be absolutely perfect.

But he wasn’t going to show his nerves or how badly he wanted everything to be perfect. He knew when the time came, he was going to act calm, cool, and collected. He wasn’t sure when it would happen because he felt like planning it out might be too weird, but he knew when it happened, he would act like he was totally relaxed and ready -- not that he wasn’t ready, he just didn’t want you to know he was nervous about making it perfect. He couldn’t let it show that he was overthinking everything.

As had become an average night, the two of you laid in bed together with your head on his chest and him playing with your hair and ears until he happened to fall asleep. But neither of you were too tired considering you decided to take a nap in the middle of the day, and Jihoon had joined you about half an hour in. The two of you ended up sleeping three hours until Seokmin woke you up for dinner. So you were talking quietly together while the rest of the house slept or did whatever they did before going to sleep.

“Who do you think will have a baby next?” you wondered since the current topic of discussion was Mingyu and Danbi’s daughter who Jihoon could hear babbling down the hall in his brother’s room.

He hummed while he considered the limited options before deciding, “I’d put my money on Woo and Soomin.”

“Really? ...Huh.”

“Well the only other options are Jia and Minghao, but I have a feeling Minghao would tell her they’re not ready. And you can’t tell me that Jooyeon seems like she wants to have a baby anytime soon,” he snorted.

You lifted your head and rolled onto your stomach to look at him, “What about us?”

You almost burst out laughing from his face when you asked that. You’d clearly taken him off guard and he wasn’t sure if he’d offended you by not including you two or not.

“O-oh... I didn’t mean like--”

“No, I know,” you giggled. “Yeah, we’re not really ready right now, huh?”

“Can I ask a question that might be rude?” he wondered.

“Is it if our child would have cat ears?”

“Yeah,” he smiled cheekily as you started laughing.

“What if it’s part cat and part dog?”

His smile turned to a pout, “I’m not a dog.”

“How come Seungcheol doesn’t care when I say you’re dogs?”

“Because Jooyeon keeps saying it and at this point, he goes along with anything she says as long as it doesn’t get her or anyone else killed, arrested, or injured.”

You shrugged with a nod, figuring that was fair enough. Jooyeon was pretty stubborn and sometimes intentionally went out of her way to push everyone’s buttons -- all in good fun, of course. One could only correct her so many times before realizing it was useless.

You shifted so you were laying on Jihoon on your stomach, your arms resting on his chest as your chin sat on your arms. You stared down at him, and he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly. Because of your topic of conversation, it had brought up thoughts that you had in the back of your mind, but you weren’t sure when to bring it up or how Jihoon would feel about it.

But now was as great a time as any other, right?

“Why haven’t you marked me yet?” you asked bluntly, your tail flicking behind you.

He might’ve stopped breathing when you asked that, his eyebrows raising but his expression staying the same for the most part. And it wasn’t because he was calm, cool and collected like he hoped to be when the time came. No, it was because he was too taken off guard to even look like it.

“Um...well...d-did you want me to?” he wondered slowly, trying his best not to stutter so he wouldn’t show his nerves despite the fact you were laying on his chest and his heart was beating a million times a second.

“Of course I want you to,” you chuckled. “I’m your mate.”

“...Now?”

You shrugged, “Why not now?”

He nodded, “Okay, then kiss me.”

Jihoon asking for a kiss was easy. It was something he did all the time without thinking twice about, so when you did kiss him, he didn’t feel exceptionally nervous. The feeling of your lips on his and the way your lips moved together was something he was used to by now and no longer got flustered about.

When things started to get more heated, he managed to stay calm. As you began grinding down on him and feeling him slowly grow hard in his pants, you let out soft moans that had his hands gripping your hips tighter while his eyes spotted red behind his eyelids. Your lips moved down to his neck, nipping and sucking as he let out a sigh of your name, continuing to guide your hips. It was like his instincts were kicking in and he forgot about how nervous he was to do this with you.

As you left hickeys on his neck and collarbone, his hands explored your body. One went lower, though, moving underneath your bottoms and going between your legs. His fingers started rubbing your clit over your underwear, smirking to himself when he felt your hands squeeze his shoulders harder as you let out a moan of his name.

"You sound so pretty,” he mumbled, his eyes closed as he listened to your breathing and your quiet whimpers.

You broke away from Jihoon to roll on your back and tug your bottoms off. Once they were gone, you tugged on Jihoon’s shirt to pull him on top of you. But before you kissed him again, you pulled his shirt off and tossed it off the bed like you had with your shorts. He smiled down at you before kissing your lips briefly, kissing down along your jaw and down your neck while his fingers went back to work on your clit. His fingers soon pulled your underwear to the side before he was dragging his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper and buck your hips up. He slid his finger inside you and slowly pumped it in and out, letting out soft grumbles as your moans filled his ears.

Gradually, more clothes came off until your naked bodies were pressed against each other while Jihoon worked you open with two fingers. You reached down to grab his wrist to keep his hand from moving, looking up into his eyes.

“Are you ready?” you asked quietly.

And that was when calm, cool, and collected Jihoon suddenly disappeared. It hit him what was about to happen, and he was hit with a wave of nerves that had his face turning red as his red eyes raked your naked form beneath him.

“U-um... I’m-- Y-yeah,” he stammered.

“Are you sure?” you wondered. “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“N-no, I am,” he insisted.

You smiled, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, “Nervous?”

“...Yeah.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” you giggled.

He frowned, grumbling, “It is not...”

“Here, maybe this will be a little better,” you said as you rolled on top of him, straddling his lap. He stared wide-eyed up at you his hands almost immediately going to your hips as he admired how you looked naked above him. “I’ll do all the work and then you have nothing to be nervous about.”

You lifted your hips, holding the base of his cock and aligning his tip with your entrance. Jihoon opened his mouth to protest, but you had already sunk down on him and silenced anything he could’ve said -- though he wasn’t even very sure himself what he planned on saying. He let out a moan, his head falling back against the pillows as he squeezed your hips.

After taking some time to adjust, you began slowly moving your hips. Jihoon groaned out your name softly as he enjoyed the feeling of how you felt around his length, his eyes never leaving your body. His hands moved up your torso to your breasts, squeezing them and rolling your nipples between his fingers. You whimpered as you pressed your hands against his chest for leverage, increasing the speed you were riding him.

“You feel so good,” he growled lowly.

As you increased your speed and adjusted your angle, your tail twitched and your ears flattened on your head. You let out moans and whimpers as you chased your release while Jihoon began to thrust up into you. He eventually got impatient and needy, holding your hips in place as he fucked up into you. You mewled as your nails scratched his skin, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

As Jihoon got closer to his release, his instincts outweighed his nerves. He suddenly flipped you on your back and began pounding into you as he growled in your ear. His fangs began elongating as he rubbed your clit with one of his hands, the other still having a hard grip on your hip that would probably bruise in the morning. You whimpered and gasped, writhing beneath him as you grabbed onto any part of him your hands would touch.

“Are you close?” he asked, his fangs grazing your neck so you knew that meant he must’ve been close.

“Y-yes,” you mewled.

It only took a few more thrusts before you felt warmth fill you. Jihoon released inside you with a loud moan before you felt something sharp in your neck that you thought would’ve hurt, but somehow caused your orgasm to come crashing down on you. You arched your back off the bed, seeing stars behind your eyelids as you came around Jihoon’s cock, crying out his name.

After riding out your orgasm, you relaxed back onto the bed. You didn’t even realize Jihoon had pulled his fangs out and was lapping at the mark to heal it faster, but his softening length was still inside you as your release mixed with his and dripped down your thighs.

“That was fun,” you giggled breathlessly.

Jihoon lifted his head from your neck to look at you, the hints of a smile on his face, “You’re the only person I know who would giggle after being bitten.”

“I’m also the only person you know who’s part cat, so,” you shrugged, “I guess I’m a little weird.”

“And I love it,” he told you before pressing a kiss to your nose. Then he pulled out of you and pushed himself off the bed, “I’ll get a towel.”

You reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back to you before you snuggled on his chest like you always did, humming, “Five more minutes.”

263 notes · View notes

threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence.

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos.

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.”

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him.

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment.

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table. He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop.

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock.

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really.

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in.

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit.

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill.

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom.

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT” /end ID]

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin.

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left.

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left.

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand.

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID]

#dukeceit #dukeceitweek #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fic #kye writes

18 notes · View notes

janellion · 4 years

Note

HAPPPYYY BOKAY THURSDAYYYYYY!!!!!!!! *que air horns* Anyways would you like to write some 80’s AU Bokay head cannons?? Like how you first met??

TYSM FOR THE ASK BB!! i’m sorry it took so long for me to get to it! this ended up being,, WAY longer than i anticipated? i just went off on one idea so this is less general hcs and kinda how we met and got together! also i made a moodboard for no reason?

OK SO this is a college/uni bokay late 80s/early 90s au!!

bo is there on a sports scholarship (likely american football or maybe rugby) and also part of one of the frats on campus!!

so he’s not trying as hard as he could be on the academics side

THIS ISNT BC HES NOT SMART

i know a lot of ppl don’t see bo as smart BUT HE IS

he’s just focusing on other things and using his smarts to plan the best parties that campus has ever seen

so as a result of his scholarship, he has to keep his grades up

unfortunately, he’s slipping in a couple of his classes and gets told he needs to find a tutor and that’s where i come in!!

i work at the academic success center (i actually did do this in college!) and so he’s one of the students that i get assigned to work w

our tutoring sessions consist of a lot of him semi flirting but also blushing?

he’s embarrassed bc he’s here to get help even tho he could have done the work he’s just kinda lazy and gets distracted when there’s a million other things on his plate

like practice and workouts and training and the ton of frat events he attends

so the flirting is a lot of “you look different today, did you get a haircut or something?” “actually i slept like 3 hours thanks for noticing” and then awkward silences

bc im over here thinking ‘WHAT THE FUCK THIS GUY IS SO HOT HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FOCUS ON SPANISH LITERATURE WHEN HE LOOKS LIKE THAT AHHHH’

at least at first?? but then he does all this cute stuff during tutoring sessions like chewing on the end of his pencil or doodling little notes in the margins of his books, or using cute photos of his family back home as a bookmark

and then it goes from just appreciating him as eye candy to ‘well shit i kinda wanna love him forever’

we go on with tutoring for a while, but eventually bo’s grades pick up and he doesn’t need the appointments anymore

both of us are a little too shy and awkward to say anything on the last session so we both go home at the end just kicking ourselves for not asking for a phone number or to meet up or anything

we don’t see each other for a while

or at least bo doesn’t see me for a while

i go to all of his home games and cheer him on but he doesn’t know bc i like to sit at the top and leave before the crowd heads out

but he’s always searching the crowd at games, trying to see if i’m there, and feeling a pit in his stomach whenever he sweeps the crowd and doesn’t immediately see me

one night some months later, after the season has ended, i’m waking back to my dorm through greek row bc i’m a slut for architecture and none other than bo is walking out of one of the large building wearing a toga, a crown of poorly painted gold leaves around his head, his face flushed, and a huge grin on his face

i stop in my tracks momentarily at the sight, wondering if i’ve actually passed out in the library and am dreaming

but then bo’s voice calling my name is ringing through the sounds of the party drifting through the open doorway behind him and he’s bounding over, the grin on his face growing

as he gets closer, i see the flush in his face and the slight stumble in his step and brace myself for impact as he crashes into me for a hug, his arms wrapping around my waist and lifting me up

��uh bo???” i’m blushing and trying to free myself from his grip ok i’m not trying that hard WHO WOULDNT WANNA BE IN HIS ARMS

but he’s just grinning and laughing before setting me down and grabbing my hand, pulling me into the brightly lit doorway and up the stairs of the house

“i’ve been kicking myself for not asking you out ages ago so let’s go out now!! we could get burgers or just walk around the city or get ice cream or go skinny dipping or —“ he cuts himself off, looking back at me with wide eyes as his smile drops for a moment while he lets go of my hand

“oh my god i mean if you want to of course i’m so sorry this probably seems so creepy and pushy —“ he babbles on, his facial expression now one of panic instead of excitement

i just laugh, still kind of thinking that i’m dreaming, and reassure him with a squeeze of his hand and a small smile, “bo no that all sounds amazing, i’d love to. i was hoping we’d run into each other too”

at this, his grin returns to his face as he continues bounding up the stairs and down a hall, before pulling me into a bedroom

“aren’t we moving kinda fast?” i tease him as i look around the incredibly chaotic room

bo turns around with a shocked look on his face before it melts into a grin and a hearty laugh as he sees the teasing look on my face

“i’m just getting changed! can’t go out on the town in a toga,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks to the closer. “don’t look,” he turns around and waffles his eyebrows at me with a grin, before pulling out a shirt and some jeans

as he gets changed, i turn around and look around the the room, not failing to notice the sticky notes littering his desk, little messages and reminders that i’d written for him during our tutoring sessions

i feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around to see bo, eyes excited and face still slightly flushed, but now fully dressed

he sees me eyeing the sticky notes on his desk and blushes even more, a hand going to rub at his neck before he’s laughing and grabbing one, looking at it affectionately before sticking it back down

“they help me stay focused, you know? remind me that i should be working hard. you really helped me a lot”

before i can respond, he’s grabbing my hand and pulling me down the stairs, out the door, and into the fresh night air

we walk around the city, getting to know each other better over burgers before getting ice cream and MAYBE SKINNY DIPPING IDK 👀

at the end of the night, we head back to my dorm, deciding to watch a movie and since “it’s close enough, and we might as well stay up to watch the sunrise”

we end up putting on a movie, something fun and light like hercules, and cuddle up on the couch, falling asleep just before the sun rises

+++

THE WAY I COULD HAVE KEPT WRITING I-- IM SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG AHHH

tysm for requesting this bb!! i rly didn’t think i’d be able to write much bc i don’t rly “get” decades aus? i think it’s bc there aren’t many POC in media from the 80s and 90s and so it’s hard to picture for me! but N E WAYS, this was my best attempt!! it was a lot of fun to write once i got into the mindset!! and thank yall for reading if you got this far?? I LOVE YOU

🌻 bokay taglist (also my faves): @deadontheinsidebut @stcrryskies @sstardusty @zoni @kuronekomama @anianimol @the-kool-aid-man-is-real @nekoma-hoe @sugacookiies @churochuu @shoyosun @achoohq @miel-meraki @dearest-kiyoomi and i’m tagging @strawberriimilkshake @yamagucciii bc i think y’all might like to see this as well?

#✨bokay thursday✨#bokay 🌻#bokuto🌻 kayla #bokay aus!!#i love one (1) man #and its bokuto koutarou

61 notes · View notes

definitely-not-gremlins · 4 years

Note

hi for that ask thing ,, 1. critical role / 2. shadowgast / 3. caleb & essek respectively

Hell you’re just going right for the jugular.

001 | Critical Role:

Favorite character: Caleb Widogast but all of the M9 are absolute wonderful, vital and irreplaceable and I would murder for all of them. From c1 it would be Percy but again the whole dynamics in-between characters in both the M9 and VM are what really makes the show great.

Least Favorite character: I want to say Trent Ikithon because I mean. Duh. But I find him interesting and I want to know what his angle is on several things. I have a seething hatred for Ripley, though.

5 Favorite ships (no order):

Shadowgast

Widomauk

Beauyasha

Percahlia

Scanlan/Pike (i dont know their ship name and im too lazy to look)

Character I find most attractive: Beau, Caleb, Percy

Character I would marry: hhhhh idk

Character I would be best friends with: Frumpkin.

a random thought: I will never get over how cute Pike & Grogs friendship was it always makes me smile.

An unpopular opinion: Discourse! You can’t really compare Caleb’s & Essek’s guilt with the info we have. Or you can but not draw a definite conclusion.

My Canon OTP: Percahlia

My Non-canon OTP: I guess Shadowgast but like I’m cool if it never becomes canon and stuff.

Most Badass Character: All of them have moments of badassery so I don’t wanna pick one.

Most Epic Villain: The Briarwoods.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Hhhh I dunno.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): None. Helps that for each main character there’s someone responsible just for them. :D Though Molly got really screwed over tbf. Haha.

Favourite Friendship: NO I CAN’T PICK JUST ONE AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME.

Character I most identify with: Oof. I don’t really know, to be honest.

Character I wish I could be: None of ‘em have you looked at their backstories?

002 | Shadowgast:

When I started shipping them: Episode 91. YEAH I HELD OUT LONG.

My thoughts: Though I see the probability for them becoming canon to be very low as of right now, I’m very curious to see where it will go. Even as a platonic relationship their dynamic is just super fucking interesting and I can’t wait to see what happens with it. Just kinda hope they don’t kill Essek off before it can go anywhere.

What makes me happy about them: The whole ‘kindred spirits’, common ground vibe

What makes me sad about them: Aside from the canon problems, I always get sad when I remember their different lifespans. I know that with consecution and Transmogrification there are ways to make it better but still.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: Those are all more Caleb-specific than ship specific. I can’t think of any specifically for this ship though there’s probably some.

Things I look for in fanfic: Oh I’m not that picky, I think. And it changes with the time of day. I just like seeing interpretations of them in general. Oh wait I forgot. Angst. So much Angst.

My wishlist: For the M9 to find a way to deal with Essek that doesn’t end up in his death.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Essek I would find absolutely weird with anyone else to be quite honest. As for Caleb, as long as it grows organically I’m fine with most anyone. Yes, Jester, too.

My happily ever after for them: Essek resigns and leaves his Den and the Dynasty. When the Nein are done adventuring and Caleb survived all of this they settle down somewhere and do research forever and put their joint names on many a spell. Caleb becomes a teacher. Essek can be one too. I haven’t given this a lot of thought but their Happily Ever After is SOFT okay.

003 | Caleb:

How I feel about this character: I love him, find him interesting and love to see his journey and his backstory.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Primarily Essek, recently also Molly (sads) and a little bit of Jester

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: Here’s the thing. Caleb has great platonic relationships with everyone in the M9 and with Essek. So. Hm. Maybe Empire Kids.

My unpopular opinion about this character: I really don’t like it in fanfic when people retcon his backstory relationship to have been with Eodwulf instead of Astrid for absolutely no reason.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: That Jester-Insight Check, man. That should have FAILED. Other than that I really can’t wait for more brushes of him with Trent in some way.

Favorite friendship for this character: See above for ‘non-romantic relationship’

My crossover ship: Not a fan of crossovers.

003 | Essek:

How I feel about this character: Love him even just as a fascinating character. Hope he will see that he did a bad and try to do good but he really needs to not be indifferent to the consequences of his actions. We’ll see!

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Caleb.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: ... Caleb. And the M9 as a unit.

My unpopular opinion about this character: See above in 001 “Unpopular opinion” i think it counts.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wish Beau hadn’t tagged along to walk him home. No hate on her it was top tier sibling energy but still. In the future, hope he keeps his head on his shoulders for a while.

Favorite friendship for this character: See above for ‘non-romantic relationship’

My crossover ship: Not a fan of crossovers.²

THANKS FOR THE ASK SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG.

#critical role #shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast

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galadriiel · 3 years

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i was tagged by @legoilas thank you love & sorry it took me a hot minute to actually get round to doing it but it was a lot of fun <3

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

name/nickname: angelika/angie

gender: no thanks x

star sign: aquarius sun virgo moon capricorn rising

height: 5'8 // 175 cm

time: 2:44 am

birthday: 31st january

favorite bands: led zeppelin, pink floyd, deep purple, the rolling stones, t. rex, florence + the machine, the beatles, the jimi hendrix experience, rainbow & more

favorite solo artists: david bowie, elton john, neil young, bob dylan & more

song stuck in my head: wild side by mötley crüe, mother by florence + the machine & sister golden hair by america

last movie: tenet

last show: hannibal i just binged it in four days and i'm not okay

when did i create this blog: i'm too lazy to check but sometime two years ago

what do i post: whatever i vibe with tbh but mostly movies/tv shows (especially lotr and star wars) and classic rock & photography/typography stuff?

last thing googled: america sister golden hair lyrics boring sorry i was just trying to figure out if the lyrics stuck in my head actually belonged to the song i thought they belonged to

other blogs: i have way too many sideblogs but out of the four i actually use my tolkien one (@glorfindels) is the only one where i'm active outside like reblogging vague aesthetic posts

do i get asks: not really,, i don't have the best track record when it comes to answering so i feel like everyone's just given up on me hfnjdjd

why i chose my url: because she's one of the baddest bitches ever and i love her with my entire heart <33

following: 348

followers: 173 kinda embarrassing but i like it this way tbh ?? idk it's just nice and cozy and chill and i can just exist in peace in my own little corner here?

average hours of sleep: 9 lately?

lucky number: don't have one but 8 and 2 are my favourites ig

instruments: erh none tbh but i used to play the guitar, piano and recorder

what am i wearing: black leggings and a baby yoda christmas sweater

dream job: psychologist and writer

dream trip: scotland, india though i'm p sure i wouldn't survive the heat and humidity lmao and new zealand

favorite food: pasta & salad. also olives.

nationality: english/hungarian

favorite song: oh man i have way too many but uh here have some off the top of my head,, dogs // pink floyd, big god // florence + tm, rock n roll suicide // david bowie, lady of the lake // rainbow, i've seen that movie too // elton john, since i've been loving you // led zeppelin, thrasher // neil young, angie // the rolling stones (hah), wooden ships // jefferson airplane & tons more obviously

last book read: lotr i'm so predictable

top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: middle earth !!!, uh possibly the galaxy far far away but that really depends on when and where aand the atla universe i think ??

there's no way i'm tagging 20 people but uh @passingthetime @szappan @no1songinheaven @crunchyspicysalmon and anyone else who wants to do it !! (:

#thanks again for the tag !!#tag games

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peachybowen · 4 years

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Painkiller

pt.3

series masterlist 🍑 masterlist

Pairing: platonic!Bucky x Stark!Reader, platonic!Peter Parker x reader

warnings: maybe some mistakes that’s it :)

Tu vas bientôt rentrer. = You’re gonna be home soon. (Idk if it’s right I used google translate)

A/N 2: I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS YESTERDAY AHHH BUT ANYWAYS HERE IT IS I HATE IT SM BUT CHAPTER 4 IS GONNA BE BETTER I PROMISE 🥺

if you want to be added/removed to/from my taglist let me know! ❤️

,,How about this one?'' MJ asked and held up a black dress.

„Nah. I don't want a black one.'' I answered and turned my attention back to the other dresses in the store. I didn't want a black dress because it reminded me of the funeral of my dad. I missed him. A lot. I missed how he would always watch reality shows with me when I was sad or how we would make fun of Peter together when he did something dumb. He may wasn't the best dad when I was 4 but he changed and he meant the world to me. When he snapped, the world stopped for me. I was shocked and overall just scared. Scared to lose the only biological parent I had left. My mom died while giving birth to me. I never even had the privilege to meet her. I believe that she was a beautiful kind-hearted woman. The only thing I had left of her was a ring. It was silver and had a small diamond in the middle. It never left my finger and it never will.

,,Y/N what about this one?''

Peter held up a short red dress. It was a pretty velvet dress so I decided to at least try it on.

,,How do I look?'' I asked as soon as I left the changing room. MJ looked me up and down and shook her head.

,,It's pretty but it isn't screaming you. Try this on.'' she said and handed me a dress which looked purple but I wasn't quite sure. It kinda looked like a disco ball. Don't get me wrong it was cute but I wasn't sure if it was a good dress for homecoming.

,,Isn't it a bit over the top?''

,,No. Now try it on.'' She insisted and sat down on a chair that was standing in front of the changing rooms. I sighed and gave in.

The dress looked good but I just didn't think it was it.

When I stepped out, MJ stood up.

,,You look good.'' she stated with a small smile.

,,You really do.''

I gasped and turned to my right to be greeted by Matt, who was standing there with another dress in his hands.

,,Thanks!''

It was awfully quiet for a few seconds before he cleared his throat.

,,I found this dress. I don't know if you like it but I thought it would look good on you.'' he stuttered, kinda trying to avoid eye contact. He handed me the dress, our fingers touched, you know just like in these really cheesy but quite cute movies, and I looked up to see him already looking at me. I cleared my throat and went back in the changing room.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The dress was perfect. It was purple and had this clear fabric over it. There were silver stars on the fabric and it was overall just really beautiful. It also wasn’t as tight as the others and it fit just perfectly. I smiled at myself. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly beautiful. That was the dress.

,,Wow.'' was the first thing I heard when I stepped out. The words came from Peter and I smiled at him.

,,You look like a freaking goddess.'' MJ added.

,,You look really pretty.''

I turned my attention to the curly-haired boy who chose this dress in the first place.

,,Thank you Matt.'' I smiled and turned back to MJ.

,,I'm gonna change real quick. Meet me at the checkout.''

After paying for the dress, we finally left the store. We spend around 2 hours in there and we all just wanted to sit down for a bit.

,,Can we get Ice cream now?'' Peter asked and grabbed MJ's hand. I hated being single in times like that.

,,Please.'' he begged and we all agreed that it was a good opportunity to sit down. So we searched for the nearest Ice cream shop.

,,So Matt, tell us a bit about yourself.'' MJ said and bit, yes she bit, into her ice cream. I got goosebumps just watching her.

,,Well I'm 17, I moved here from Salt Lake City and I go to midtown but you know that already. I uh...I can speak French, I don't have any siblings and my parents are divorced.''

,,I never met a person who can speak French.'' Peter acknowledged in awe.

,,Me neither and I met a lot of people.'' I said and continued eating my Ice cream.

,,Can you say something? Just for fun?'' Peter asked while wiping the chocolate Ice cream off of his nose.

,,Tu vas bientôt rentrer.''

,,Yeah I have no idea what you just said.'' I laughed and looked at a grinning Matt.

,,It's just a book I read once.'' Matt explained and finished his Strawberry Ice cream.

Time past and we were all sitting in my room, doing absolutely nothing. We were all on our phones and nobody said anything. MJ and I sent Tik Toks in the group chat the whole time. It was boring but still fun..?

„Do you all want to stay over?" I asked, looking up from my phone.

MJ, who was sitting on the floor with Peters head in her lap, nodded.

„Yeah, I'm too lazy to go back home."

She then looked at Peter. He was half asleep and just nodded lightly. Then my gaze fell on Matt who was sitting on the floor as well.

„I mean if you're really okay with it." he mumbled and I nodded eagerly.

„Yeah! It's gonna be fun and Bucky won't mind." I replied casually and looked at the time.

„Wait...you're living with Bucky Barnes? The Winter Soldier?"

„Yeah. I moved in with him because I still go to school and the house my dad bought is kinda far away."

,,Makes sense."

Later that night we ordered pizza, watched Harry Potter and I actually got to teach Peter and Matt some tik tok dances. MJ got Pyjamas from me, Peter had a few Shirts here and he gave Matt one. The good thing was that I was able to spend quality time with my friends and it actually took my mind off of the mission.

Painkiller taglist (open):

crossed= couldn’t tag you

@hannahneedstocalmdown @eridanuswave @viarogers @badgalll88 @caitsymichelle13 @e7here4l @gigi-maria-argu @too-much-caffine @brandomp4

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brynnmck · 4 years

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Tagged by @agirlnamedkeith, @pretty--thief, and @samirant, thank you! <333

What is the colour of your hairbrush? Mostly black, with a green ring on it.

Name a food you never eat: I have quite a few foods I can’t eat anymore thanks to some random health issues I developed a few years back (friends, aging is great from a mental/emotional perspective, Not Great from a physical perspective) but in terms of voluntary stuff, green peppers. I’ve outgrown a lot of my childhood food dislikes but that one is in my SOUL.

Are you typically too warm or too cold? Too cold, definitely.

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? I was in a boring meeting!

What’s your favourite candy bar? Probably Snickers? I really like 100 Grand too, though. And Butterfinger. And Twix. And I want Claire Saffitz to make all of them for me.

Have you ever been to a professional sports game? I’ve been going to Major League baseball games since I was a kid (it was my dad’s favorite sport), and the past few years, I’ve been to 20-30 games a season. I usually go for my birthday, too, which is in a couple of weeks, and it’s just kinda sinking in that there will be no birthday baseball for me this year. :(

What was the last thing you said out loud? Just saying hi to my husband.

What is your favourite ice cream? Coffee Heath Bar Crunch. I can’t have caffeine anymore so this summer I’m gonna try to make a decaf version for myself. (WHY IS ALMOST ALL COFFEE ICE CREAM CAFFEINATED. There are so many reasons people can’t have caffeine! Sigh.)

What was the last thing you had to drink? Water!

Do you like your wallet? Sure? It’s a nice blue and it holds my stuff.

What was the last thing you ate? Fruit and Greek yogurt for breakfast.

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? I didn’t! I actually ordered a couple of soft bras from TomboyX on Monday, but nothing on the weekend.

What’s the last sporting event you watched? A replay of an old Mariners game a couple of nights ago. If we’re talking live sports, I watched about half of a Korean baseball league game a few nights back, which was delightful.

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? Butter!

Who is the last person you sent a text message to? @ajoblotofjunk

Ever go camping? Not in a long time. My husband has been getting the urge to go lately, though, so maybe we will!

Do you take vitamins? I take supplements due to the aforementioned health issues. And vitamin B.

Do you go to church every Sunday? Lol no. My mother is very Catholic and she brought us to 6 am Mass every weekday when I was a kid. It was well-intentioned (her dad had a pretty volatile temperament and she always felt safe at church, so she subconsciously wanted us to feel the same way) but it did not sell me on the experience! Heh.

Do you have a tan? I live in the Seattle area and it’s May, so... lol no. I’m also pretty pale so I don’t get that tan anyway, but. I usually get a little something going in the summer, enough to have tan lines anyway.

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? Tough call, but I’m going with pizza.

Do you drink your soda through a straw? I don’t drink soda anymore (though I drink a LOT of carbonated water), but I’ll drink my drink through a straw if I get it at a fast-food place. Otherwise I don’t usually use one.

What colour socks do you usually wear? Most of my winter socks for work are black. Otherwise it’s a pretty random selection of colors.

Do you ever drive above the speed limit? Sure. Usually 5-10 miles over, rarely more (or less) than that.

What terrifies you? Climate change. Global pandemics. You know. Just generally suffering (both mine and other people’s).

Look to your left. What do you see? Through window of the room I’m sitting in: my neighbors’ house, and a cherry tree in their yard.

What chore do you hate most? Cleaning the bathrooms.

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? The hot Australian woman who’s been on Gold Rush recently, or a dear fannish friend of mine I haven’t talked to in years who is actually from New Zealand and I KNOW IT’S VERY DIFFERENT but it’s close enough to make me think of her!

What’s your favourite soda? I used to drink a lot of Diet Mountain Dew. I really miss ginger beer, too. I love a good spicy ginger beer. Root beer too.

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? Drive-thru all the way. Isn’t that part of the advantage of fast food?

What’s your favourite number? I don’t really have one!

Who’s the last person you talked to? My husband!

Favourite cut of beef? Boneless ribeye. I finally bought a propane grill a couple of years back and I have now learned to make a badass steak, if I say so myself.

Last song you listened to? Eve 6 - Inside Out. A few months ago I suddenly remembered that this song existed and so I bought it and now I have to listen to it at least twice every time it comes up, ha.

Last book you read? An as-yet-unpublished Rose Lerner novel, because I am very lucky! (It’s a wlw Gothic. SUCH A GOOD CONCEPT.)

Favourite day of the week? Saturday

Can you say the alphabet backwards? In this economy??? Idk, I could probably figure it out, but it would definitely be work.

How do you like your coffee? I love a caramel macchiato, especially iced so you get those weird globules of caramel coming up through the straw. But a nonfat decaf double latte with a little bit of some kind of syrup is my go-to these days--hot when it’s cold out, iced when it’s warm out.

Favourite pair of shoes? I have these 40s-ish heels that tie over your instep with a little bow and I love them. I also have some extremely cool red velvet with black cording peep-toe Louboutins that I bought off some discount site years ago, except I can’t wear them for long because they’re about a half size too small. But they’re SO PRETTY.

Time you normally get up? In isolation, I’m discovering that my natural sleep schedule is about 2 am - 10 am. But I have a daily meeting at 9:30, and I try to get my workout done before that, so I get up at 8-8:30ish. I am discovering through this meme that SO MANY of you are morning people! What is that like???

Sunrises or sunsets? I love sunrises but I am not remotely a morning person, so. I see a lot more sunsets, and I love them too!

How many blankets are on your bed? Just one duvet.

Describe your kitchen plates. We have some with blue perimeters and kind of a white/oatmeal middle that we inherited from my in-laws, and the ones we actually bought on purpose are white on top and either sage-y green or charcoal black on the bottom.

Describe your kitchen at the moment. Somewhat messy, or at least there are dishes to do. I made some pretty epic cauliflower mushroom risotto with shrimp last night, though, so it was for a good cause.

Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? Perfect Manhattans with rye are my go-to, or a Quebecois, which is basically a perfect Manhattan with a little bit of maraschino liqueur added (and ideally a lemon twist, though we’re usually too lazy for those). In the summer, I’m getting really into gin these days: either gin and tonic, gin and some kind of citrus spiked seltzer, or a Last Word. I also really love a good craft beer, and sparkling wine too.

Do you play cards? Not really. We used to play a shit ton of gin rummy in high school, but I haven’t really played cards much since.

What colour is your car? Blue!

Do you know how to change a tire? Theoretically yes, though the one time I actually tried to do it myself, I had a hell of a time getting the lug nuts off. I was fortunately in my driveway at the time (good place for a flat tire!) and my neighbors kept coming by and offering to help, and I was like NO I WANNA DO IT. I think I did need help eventually, though. Stupid pneumatic tools at tire installation places!

Your favourite state? That rare, usually-brief phase of writing where everything seems to fit and flow and you’re a genius and you understand all the secrets of the cosmos. Also Washington.

Favourite job you’ve had? My current one. It’s not my dream job, but it pays well and I like my team and I get to learn new stuff fairly often and I can work from home in the midst of all this, so. I am very lucky!

How did you get your biggest scar? The summer after my freshman year of college, I was part of a summer stock theatre troupe, and we performed half the summer at my college, and half the summer in a very small town in eastern Oregon that had an outdoor stage. One of my entrances involved running over the grass to get to the stage, and one night the grass was wet, and my costume involved ballet slippers, and I slipped and fell onto the stage stairs in front of the whole audience. It hurt SO MUCH that I got very light-headed onstage while I was trying to get through the scene, lol. Anyway, my costume also involved harem pants that had elastic around the calf/ankle area, and I got a friction burn from those, which ended up scarring because the skin over your shins is very thin! (I also got a few massive bruises on my leg that didn’t go away for weeks, so eventually my mom nagged me into going to the doctor, who promptly started gently hinting to see if my boyfriend at the time was responsible for the injuries. Which was actually pretty cool of the doctor! But then I was like, lol no, trust me, a hundred people saw me bite it, this is 100% dumbass mistake.) And that’s my scar story.

Tagging, if you want to do it: @ajoblotofjunk, @snowymary, @halcyon-red, @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined, @unadulteratedkr, and anyone else who feels like doing this!

#meme me

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alanncs · 4 years

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hi my angels ! my name’s dani , i’m from toronto ontario aka best city in the worldt , & i’m 20 ! i’m the kelsey m on the main & i can’t tell u how excited i am to have wealthy up n running again ! i literally can’t wait to plot with all you beautiful peoples , so pls like this & i’ll slide in the dms , otherwise u can also hit me up on discord 𝒎𝒈𝒌'𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 .#1958 !! i’m gonna put all you need 2 know about alanna below aaand i hope y’all like her ! <3

new york’s very own alanna d'alessio was spotted on broadway street in gucci bee sneakers . your resemblance to hailey baldwin is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty first birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being reticent , but also gracious . i guess being a scorpio explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be anything pink , the lingering smell of weed , and a cigarette between her fingers . & ( cisfemale & she/her ) + ( dani , 20 , she/her , est . )

* / 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑠 .

full name : alanna marie d’alessio .

age : twenty - one .

hometown : new york city .

zodiac chart : scorpio sun , aquarius moon , libra rising .

character inspo : alyssa ( the end of the f*cking world ) , marissa cooper ( the o.c ) , hanna marin ( pretty little liars ) .

* / 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 !! tw : kidnapping , ransom , drugs

alanna was born heir to the d'alessio family which came with the billion dollar dynasty that her parents created .

her dad is an italian government official but they grew up in ny basically bc her dad is an ambassador/representative for italy & her mother is a super model who also wanted to raise her kids here having lived here her whole life , and so they did .

she had everything handed to her on a silver platter and her parents expected nothing but success from her because of how wealthy they were, they knew they would never have to worry about providing for her and her siblings , and so they spoiled her with whatever she asked for and more

but that came with a price, she was expected to do everything they wanted of her, go to an ivy league college, follow in one of her parent’s career footsteps

alanna did just that, she got amazing grades in high school and was head of many student clubs, organized prom, got almost perfect on sat’s and exams, and busted her ass to get into a good college despite the fact that her parents could’ve easily gotten her a spot if she didn’t do as well as she did

her life was going so well, she had the perfect boyfriend, perfect group of friends, was on her way to brown university in a couple of months, her parents and her couldn’t have been in a better spot with their daughter

the last thing they expected was for someone, a stranger, to get their hands on their daughter . a week after her 18th birthday , she’s walking to school on a monday morning and before she knows what’s happening , there’s something over her head and she’s being dragged into a van and taken from her life

the one thing that was expected, was the $10 million ransom she was held for

basically her dad had some shady dealings with the italian mob & didn’t pay his debts to them for some time - so they kidnapped alanna in retaliation for that

they kept her for 3 days before her parents were able to work with the authorities to get her returned and pay the people in full

surprisingly, she was returned alive but she had to spend two weeks in the hospital afterwards with injuries

once alanna was returned, she wasn’t the same

she told the police what happened to her , but only barely . she didn’t tell her parents or anyone else about what they did to her when she was gone .

she didn’t speak , eat or sleep for two months after she got home

she spent the last few months of her high school in bed, she didn’t attend her graduation, deferred from going to brown in the fall, she didn’t see her friends anymore and she broke up with her boyfriend

the people who took her were never caught & she is still to this day completely terrified of going anywhere alone

she never walks anywhere alone

it took her months to be able to get back to doing normal things again and being who she was before

to this day , alanna still struggles with the memories and the ptsd from what happened to her , but she doesn’t speak to anyone about it and she refuses to bring it up in any scenario

she also has a horrible relationship with her father now , having trouble forgiving him for what happened to her

some people know about it as obviously, being as famous as her family is, it was on the news at the time, and everyone she went to high school with knew what happened so sometimes it can be hard to avoid it

she wants to forget - here comes her secret - she got into drugs after the kidnapping and it quickly spiraled out of control , now she can’t seem to function without them because they’re the only thing that make her feel normal and make the memories fade

anything she can get her hands on rly

but the media think she’s an angel , her reputation has been kept p much pristine her whole life . and her parents have no clue how much she’s struggling or how much she’s changed . so if this were to come out , it would tarnish not only alanna’s reputation but her family’s as well

* / 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 !!

after deferring from brown , alanna knew she had to find some way to keep herself occupied and make money , even though she could live off her parents for however long she wanted

alanna wants to be . miss independent .

so she started getting into modelling , bc of her mom it was easy for her to book gigs

she was able to book gigs like adidas , guess , calvin klein etc !

so that was super exciting for her bc she got really into it and enjoyed doing it sm

she started acting about a year ago - started off in a few movies , & now she’s currently starring in a netflix series - smth similiar to elite or on my block !

oko so in high school alanna was super bubbly , and just like the really overly nice girl that would talk to literally every 1

but it worked for her bc she was voted prom queen and valedictorian ! even tho she missed graduation . yike

Anyway now ! she is not v much like that anymore , except when she’s super high .

since her kidnapping alanna has been closed off and aloof . in general , she’s not as talkative

she says what she thinks but it usually comes in one word mumbles

can sometimes b very entertaining . she’s kinda like paris hilton a little bit

also think Marissa from the oc !!

call her a spoiled brat she’s gonna be like “ yah… and ?”

she can be very selfish to a fault in certain situations

and very defensive if she feels attacked, judged , put into a corner , physically cornered , etc

she’s a hopeless romantic at heart and dreams of having an epic love story

but she has Hella trust issues which easily lead to commitment issues for her so … she will cheat “by accident” lol

that’s why she tries to steer clear of relationships but she also has such a big heart she falls in love 5 times a day sffsdkj

also w how much this girl can sleep around it’s not happening any Time soon 4 her ! she enjoys being single a lot

Bc she likes to get wild

shes like nicole richie on the simple life when she’s partying lmao

like she likes 2 fuck with ppl sometimes lol , like she will flirt w anyone and everyone just cus she’s bored

umm she lives in sweatpants n crop tops !

her hair is either in a bun or just down , she’s rly lazy when it comes to hair and makeup . like if her makeups done someone else did it lol

Unless she’s like fully in the mood

ooverall she’s a rly sweet lil bean whos just scared of humans ! :’(

um ya idk im always developing her but IF U read all this ilysm !

here’s her pinterest board for more of an idea !

* / 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 !!

EVERYTHING ! here is a link to my wc page & a link to my wc TAG which are both full of ideas so msg me & i’ll throw tons of ideas at u <333 let’s do it i luv plotting sm okay

#tw drugs #tw kidnapping #wealthyhq:intro #hehehe <3

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 5 years

Text

Half Of You: Jimin One Shot

Request: fluff: Friend group travelling (wherever inspires you most! I'm thinking someplace like Hawai where they visit secret beaches and stuff! Site-seeing in the city could also be interesting!). Jimin and and OC know eachother through friends. OC is independent and not TOO into the whole adventuring deal but does it to enjoy some quality time with her friends. Jimin is flirty and playful and makes the trip all the more interesting for her. (I don't know how you want to set it up but maybe two friends are dating and they invite their two seperate friend groups on this trip to meet. Or maybe it's a wedding and OC is a bridesmaid? Anything works honestly!) - @silviasgotyourback

Description: You’re not too keen on...you know...risk-taking. In fact, it scares you to your core. But when your close friend Kim Namjoon gets in your head, you agree to a crazy trip to Fiji with him and his pals. But what happens when one of those pals -- specifically Park Jimin -- sweeps you off your feet not only figuratively, but literally?

Word Count: 15.8k

Pairing: Jimin x (gender neutral) Reader

Tags: Office Worker!Reader, Choreographer!Jungkook, Producer!Namjoon, Non-Idol!Au, Kinda Enemies to Lovers?? Haha idk

Genre: Fluff and angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol

A/N: Wow what a long break I’ve taken haha! But I’m back (kinda) to post some one shots (slowly)! I’ve been working really hard on my graduate school writing sample and auto statements, and I’ve just started my senior year of college AND started a new job so I’ve been incredibly busy! I apologize nonetheless for my absence. It’s felt horrible being away. Very guilty lol. Anyway, thank you my dear for requesting and for being so so so SO patient with me. I hope you like the result!

Also, if you want to follow me on Twitter please do so! My handle is @/nirvana_namu. I would post a link, but rumor has it Tumblr killed links and I’m not taking any chances.

- Mercury

You’re not sure why you agreed to this.

Standing at the tippy top of a mountain, looking out over the entire surf as it roils in the golden island sun, you watch your best friend get strapped into a harness with a laugh that echoes through the humid air. His gaze is focused downward, along the slope of treetops leading to the water. A zipline. A really steep, really fast one. One of the longest in the world! Namjoon had proclaimed with no small measure of wonder in his round eyes before you’d boarded the plane side by side only a day prior. If you weren’t so scared, you’d want to paint it.

You really don’t know why you agreed to do any of this.

The vested employee adjusts the straps secured around Namjoon’s hips, tugs them once or twice — not nearly enough by your standards — and mumbles something unintelligible into the receiver of a walkie-talkie. Enveloped in greenery, Namjoon pauses to turn and look at you and, upon snagging your eyes, offers a big, stupid, dimpled grin. He waves one hand over his head at you as you wait to be loaded into the next harness. And it looks like his eyes are squinted against the sun, but really they’re squinted from the sheer force of his joy. A joy too big to be contained in a smile alone.

That’s exactly why, you think to yourself with a grimace as you shamble forward along the worn footpath, second-to-last in line, arms crossed over your torso as if they can protect you from whatever fresh hell Namjoon’s planned out.

The employee pats Namjoon’s bare shoulder before releasing him and sending him speeding down the swaying cable with a scream so loud it pierces your ears. His body falls out of sight for a frozen millisecond before the cable gives a mighty bounce and his head reappears, bobbing up and down as he slides toward the bottom. You wince, more out of fear than discomfort, and pause to peek over the edge of the loading platform, following the line of the cable all the way to the bottom. Your heart races as your eyes trace the dense tree line, seemingly endless, and the sheer drop that had claimed Namjoon just seconds before.

And that’s when, as you sweep your twitching gaze out behind you, you lock eyes with Park Jimin. Standing behind you, the very last of the group to depart down the cliffside, his lips are quirked into a smirk that reads cocky and his brows are raised, unyielding eyes stuck on you like tree sap. Of all people to be stuck with on the top of a mountain…

Your face goes hot and your spine stiffens by a few degrees. You stare back at him, trying to discern any measure of fear in his smiling expression, his half-exposed teeth, his rosy cheeks, his teasing brown eyes. But instead all you see is, as usual, a perfect facade of composure.

Well, that and a sinfully handsome face.

He saunters up beside you, scans you from head to toe, and hums a little. “Nervous?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know.

You clear your throat, fan yourself with your hand as a futile defense against the jungle heat, and nod your head once. “Mm.”

Upon hearing your response, Jimin’s demeanor shifts a little. He uncrosses his arms and his smirk slips, brows raising. He leans closer to examine your face and you avert your gaze, heart hammering. “Whoa, you’re actually spooked, huh,” he remarks before glancing around the platform. “Shit, I don’t think the guide’s gonna let you turn back now.”

You’d expected him to make fun of you, perhaps laugh at your weak constitution. But this…

This is new.

Though well-meaning, Jimin’s words serve only to set your palms sweating and your heart racing faster. Your throat feels a little funny, tight like asthma. You shift your weight from foot to foot. “I-It’s fine,” you mumble, sliding past him as the employee beckons you forward with a lazy wave. “I’ll just…do it.”

Jimin hangs close behind you as the employee begins strapping you in, not sparing even a single word for you. “Hey, uh, my friend’s a little nervous,” Jimin says lowly to the young man working on hooking the harness around your hip. He glances up to meet your eyes before looking toward Jimin. “Any way you can, like, go gentle or something?” Jimin offers a convincing smile, the kind of grin that could get anyone to do anything.

The employee surprises you by releasing a puffy laugh and straightening to his full height, pausing to pat the dust off the backs of his legs. He chuckles and pats your back. “I can’t control the cable,” he says, then pauses for a moment to think. “But…,” he continues as Jimin turns pleading eyes his way, “if you’re feeling really nervous, I’ve heard it helps to shut your eyes and count to ten. Like, tell yourself you’re definitely gonna do it once you reach ten and just…go.”

You swallow hard and inhale sharply through your nose. “Alright,” you say, but his words have fled from your brain as soon as they’d been uttered. Your voice is shaky. Almost as shaky as your hands as you raise them to grip the straps of your harness.

Have you always had such a strong grip?

Your brain goes a little fuzzy, looking out over the precipice on which you stand, unsteady feet and rushing pulse. It’s dizzying. Like the world is spinning, but you’re not spinning with it. Or perhaps you’re spinning and it’s the world that’s gone still. Either way, the stretch of trees extending far beyond the tips of your hiking boots looks like it’s swaying on an axis, and each blink tilts the view some different way. You wonder if you’re breathing enough, or maybe too much, because your head is spinning. Like when you stand up too quickly after sitting for a while. You wonder if you’ll pass out before you reach the bottom.

If you reach the bottom.

Jesus, you hadn’t even considered the possibility of this stupid cable snapping. It doesn’t look too stable, upon closer inspection. Bouncing in the breeze. And as the employee finishes strapping you in, you pause for a moment to move your legs about and find, to your horror, that the straps are slightly loose.

Oh God.

You’re gonna throw up.

“Hey,” says a soft voice from beside you.

You feel a warm hand slide along the skin of your upper back, resting to cup your shoulder. Slowly, you turn your toward Jimin, standing with one arm wrapped around you and the other braced on his own knee so he can level his eyes with yours. He’s smiling a little. A different one this time, a soft one. The wind blows his dark hair from his eyes and carries the scent of his cologne. Somehow, you feel yourself relax a little against his side.

“It’s gonna be okay, alright?” he asks gently, and this is an entirely new Park Jimin to you. A tender young man with kind eyes. He smiles again and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “I’m right behind you.”

And for some reason, that comforts you. You don’t have time to dissect it however, as the employee takes up your other side and raises his brows, asking silently if you’re ready to go. Of course, you aren’t. How can you be? But again, Jimin squeezes your shoulder and seizes your attention with another smile, this one turning his eyes to crescents as he nods his head.

“Um…yeah,” you say, taking a moment to focus on your breath.

“Remember,” says Jimin as he steps away from you. “Count to ten, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, shutting your eyes.

One.

You’re gonna do it.

Two.

On ten, you’re just gonna go.

Three.

It’ll be fine.

Four.

Joon did it, and he’s fine.

Five.

And Tae before him, and that guy Jimin brought.

Six.

Nobody’s died yet.

Seven.

You can do it too.

Eight.

And even if I’m scared, at least you’re not alone up here.

Nine.

Jimin’s right behind you.

Ten.

Your scream rips through the valley below.

And, seconds later, so does your unfettered laughter.

You met Park Jimin on the worst day of your life a month ago. Freshly laid off from your job as a financial analyst — a job which Namjoon disliked from the start —, and disappointed by a string of bad dates after a catastrophic breakup, you’d agreed to meet up with a few college friends for a drink at your local stomping ground. You’d found Jimin sitting in the middle of a smoky bar with a girl on one arm and a guy on the other. Gross, was all you’d thought in passing. You’d paid him little mind, too busy wallowing in your own self pity to think too hard about any one thing, but it seemed he was incessant on grabbing your attention by any means necessary.

You’d sidled up to the bar, awaiting Namjoon’s I’m here text, and had only just ordered your drink when the strange young man with the unusually bright smile took up the space beside you. Now alone, he offered you a grin and his hand for you to shake. For a few seconds, you only stared at his outstretched palm. At the lines cutting across it. What was that long line called? The life line?

Eventually, however, you realized he wasn’t going anywhere, planted firmly in the wobbly barstool to your right, and you relented with a handshake. But that wasn’t what this stranger was after. He yanked you just a little once your hands connected.

“Hey, honey!” he said as he pulled you in toward his chest, sweeping you up in a tight, firm hug that knocked the wind from your lungs.

You were neither playful enough nor drunk enough to reciprocate and instead sat there stiffly, arms pressed against your sides as the stranger with the cute face hugged you close. Over his shoulder, you locked eyes with the girl who’d previously ornamented his left arm, watching you keenly, and it didn’t take you long to understand what was going on.

“Dodging an ex?” you whispered without moving your lips too much.

You felt a wave of shivers trace up your spine and it only took you a few seconds to realize why. It was just the sort of thing you imagined Hanseul doing if he ever bumped into you…

He chuckled. “Two, actually,” he responded as the young man he’d been entertaining also lifted his eyes from his drink to give you a once-over.

You sighed. “You’d better be buying my drink,” was all you said as the two of you broke away.

He’d laughed — that melodic sort of laugh that made you feel a little floaty — and rubbed your shoulder with a grin. “I’ll buy you twenty,” he joked, sliding the bartender a bill as he returned with your cocktail.

“So how’d you manage to get caught up with two exes at once?” you asked, nursing your glass.

He rubbed his jaw and shook his head, smiling at the bar table before him. “They were friends to begin with,” he said. And when you said nothing, only recoiled slightly, he met your eyes with a bright laugh. “C’mon don’t give me that look!”

You cleared your throat, turned away, and worked your straw between your teeth. “I dunno, sounds like maybe you brought it on yourself then,” you said, taking a healthy sip.

The stranger laughed again — more like a disbelieving scoff — and adjusted one of the several rings on his slender fingers. “Well I didn’t ask the two of them to come out tonight,” he said with a shrug. “And besides, neither of them looked unhappy to see me.”

“Ugh,” you mumbled, eyeing him sidelong as he chuckled.

He smirked and leaned across the bar toward you. “What?” he asked, and something about the heavy-lidded look he gave you, the simmering something in his eyes, made your pulse quicken. He rested his cheek in his hand and cocked his head to the side, now close enough to smell a whiff of his cologne. “You think I’m a bad guy?”

You swallowed hard before downing the rest of your drink and slamming the glass back on the bar. You waved the bartender over and pointed to the empty glass. Wordlessly, he began fixing you a replacement. You peeked back at the guy to find him smiling at you, musing perhaps, with the strangest mix of curiosity and pity in his expression.

You were definitely going to need another drink.

“Do good guys usually do stuff like that?” you asked, watching the bartender as he shook your drink around his metal tumbler.

He chuckled. “Can goodness be quantified by things like who we date?” he asked.

You stiffened. “Not by who you date,” you continued, shaking your head as memories of your own ex resurfaced. “But who you hurt, sure.”

He rolled his eyes, swiveling in his barstool to look at you head on. “Why’s it my fault who gets hurt?” he asked.

You cocked a brow. “You…can’t be serious…” But from the expression he wore you were certain that he was indeed quite serious.

He shrugged. “It’s not my intention to hurt someone, so why do I have to take responsibility if they get hurt?” he asked, then smirked and gave your thigh a nudge with his knee. “The way I see it, if you get hurt you’re the one whose expectations were too high.”

“That’s gross,” you said, inching away. You were inclined to simply leave, abandon this conversation and the bar at large and call it a night. But the bartender wasn’t finished with your drink and you weren’t about to piss him off. Not on a day like today. “If you’re dating someone, you’re committing to them.”

“What about polyamorous people?” he countered with a smug grin.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not talking about polyamorous people. I’m talking about monogamy.”

“But why does everyone expect monogamy?” asked Jimin, tossing his hands up in the air with a breathy laugh. “Anyway, I always make it clear from the start that I’m not the kind of person who wants to be…well, you know…,” he started, then furrowed his brow and waved his hand. “Like, in a relationship.”

You sighed, nodded your thanks to the bartender as he slid you your drink, and watched as Jimin again offered cash in return. “And that’s fine, but you can’t expect someone to stick around and be okay with that.” You rubbed your temples as memories swirled together. “Be okay with half of you.”

If you really loved me, you’d understand that I could have any person in the world and you’d still be my number one!

Scumbag.

This gave him pause and, slowly, he shifted his eyes your way once more, scanning you. “Half of me?”

You nodded and downed a gulp of your drink with a wince. “Giving half is fine if the other person is giving half too. If you both only expect half,” you began, then ran your hands along your neck. Your skin was feverish, alcohol making your head light. “But if one person wants more, it’s not fair to string them along.”

He stared at you gravely, eyes hard and jaw set, and furrowed his brow. “That’s too old-school,” he said.

You huffed and crossed your arms. “It’s not old-school!” you said, wagging a finger at him. “It’s about respecting the other person enough to let them go when you realize you can’t be what they need.”

He pouted a little and rolled his eyes. “You sound ancient,” he said, then paused to give you a knowing smirk. “Wait, don’t tell me,” he began, scooting closer with a conspiratorial look. “You were scorned by your ex. Like…I dunno, like they cheated or something. Broke your heart, ruined your trust, blah, blah, blah. And now you’ve got this vendetta or something because you got hurt.” He grinned and wiggled his brows.

You stiffened, eyes wide, and stared at him. “I…,” you began.

He laughed from his gut and nodded. “Ah, nailed it, didn’t I?” he asked.

There was a cruel edge to his teasing, an ill-intentioned bite that felt like it was made to injure. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but you knew you felt it in that hazy bar, surrounded by throngs of people gathered here and there, enveloped in smoke and conversation. But like a heat-seeking missile, it seemed his words were engineered to uncover the softest parts of you and destroy them.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else, but your eyes welled with tears and your throat constricted. You stared at him, this stranger who had pegged you without err, and felt the weight of your frustrations pressing down on the tops of your shoulders like sandbags. And as he perceived the shift in your expression, his own face changed from a cold sort of scrutiny to a round-eyed concern that washed away all evidence of his previous behavior.

“Oh shit,” he said, standing up and blocking your face from view. You felt a few hot tears spilling over and were quick to wipe them, but the humiliation was there on display whether you cried or not.

He’d gotten you.

Luckily for you, Namjoon’s timing had been particularly impeccable that day and he’d barreled into the bar with a lopsided grin and clapped both you and the stranger on the backs, Taehyung and Yoongi sauntering behind him. You’d startled a bit, jumping slightly at his approach, but once again luckily — or perhaps unluckily — Namjoon seemed to have little regard for the poor mood he’d stepped into and didn’t seem to notice your glassy eyes as you buried your nose in your drink.

“Well jeez, look at you two already getting acquainted!” Namjoon exclaimed with a big laugh.

You paused your sipping for a moment to slide only your eyes up toward your friend. “Huh?”

He blinked down at you, one hand still clamped onto the stranger’s shoulder, and raised his brows. “Didn’t I tell you I was inviting some work friends?”

You spat your drink, sending droplets of sweet alcohol splattering across the bar. Quick to right yourself, you faced Namjoon properly and, sputtering, replied, “Him?”

Namjoon laughed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you guys didn’t introduce yourselves,” he said, adding theatrics to his heavy sigh. “This is Park Jimin. That choreographer I’ve been telling you about? He’s coming with us to Fiji.”

Still coughing up the remains of your rum and Coke, you pat your chest. This was the kind-hearted dance major wunderkind who dazzled everyone at Namjoon’s entertainment company? This was the kid who, at the age of twenty-four, had more accolades than both his predecessors combined? This was the guy who befriended all the trainees and brought them sports drinks during long days of practice?

This was the guy you were going to spend two weeks with on an island in the middle of the Pacific?

Namjoon, standing between the two of you, moved to taste your drink and as he leaned forward you locked eyes with the acclaimed young choreographer over the plane of his back. Park Jimin stared at you with wide eyes and lips parted as if to speak. But even after Namjoon had straightened up and begun complaining about your drink order, Park Jimin, still with mouth agape, said nothing.

And so, as you go ripping through the jungle on a wobbling cable, screaming and laughing and crying just a little, you wonder how exactly that very same Park Jimin is the one who comforted you into taking this leap of faith. Below your dangling feet is a patchwork of different greens, all bleeding into a motion blur as your body is propelled down toward the bottom platform. As you slide along, you can just see Namjoon’s figure, reduced to a small silhouette amongst the trees, as he stands waving like mad at the edge of the platform. Laughing, you shoot both hands above your head and wave them around, causing you to sway on the cable. Startled, you quickly return your hands to gripping the straps near your chest.

You feel like a bullet whizzing through humid air and then, all at once, friction takes hold once more and you seize, eyes squeezing shut from the whiplash, head throbbing just a little, suspended over the platform. You are greeted by a chorus of applause and hollers of encouragement as the employee begins the process of disconnecting you from your harness and, as your feet land stiffly on the concrete slab, you lift wild eyes to meet Namjoon’s. You find him still with that grin plastered across his face, hair windswept, shirt askew.

“Wow!” is all you can say as the group laughs.

Namjoon smiles and claps your shoulder. “Right?” he asks and you can only nod and turn your eyes back up toward the cliff from which you’d descended.

Now far too distant to discern amongst the foliage, the loading platform sits somewhere lost in green. And, without meaning to, your mind wanders back to Park Jimin and you wonder idly if he’s counting to ten.

Sunset drenches the island as you lounge on the warm sand, leaning back on your elbows with eyes half-shut as you gaze out at the glittering ocean touching the horizon line. The sky is darkening by degrees, with vibrant reds and oranges spreading like watercolor into the navy blue edges. And for a blissful moment, you’re alone with it. Alone with the profound. And you’re not thinking about the new job you’d taken, or the text messages Hanseul left you this morning, or the bills you know you’ve got to pay soon. You’re not thinking about anything.

It’s beautiful.

Of course, it’d be more beautiful with a pina colada, but you don’t let your mind linger there too long. After all, Namjoon said this trip was supposed to be about adventure and ‘finding yourself’. You aren’t sure how much of yourself you can really find at the bottom of a fruity drink.

Namjoon invited you on this trip a year ago. He’d done it in typical Namjoon fashion: calling you up at two in the morning and rambling incoherently for a while before eventually getting to the point. You’d become so used to his pipe dreams that you’d half expected this plan to fall through like the others. The second the words left his lips, you’d rolled your eyes.

“What I’m saying is,” he began, breathless over the phone, as you push yourself up onto your bottom, bed sinking beneath you, “let’s go to Fiji.”

“Joon…,” you groaned. “Please, I have work tomorrow-,”

“Listen, fuck your job,” he said and you could practically see him waving his hands like a man gone mad. “This is important. Like…might be the most important thing we’ve ever done together, you know?”

“Where is this even coming from?” you asked, stifling a yawn. You glanced out your window and saw the city painted black, pinpricks of yellow office building lights.

He sighed. “I was looking up tropical music for this new song I’m working on for the trainees and I stumbled upon this incredible video about Fiji.”

“Like a generic white girl vlog?” you asked with a laugh, but Namjoon seemed deathly serious as he remained silent. You paused a moment. “Wait, you’re like…for real with this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, of course.” He was quiet. “I just…I dunno…I guess, while we’re still young enough to do it, I wanna experience something incredible. While we still can. While things are still like this.”

“What do you mean?” You raised a hand to open your window, let in some cool night air, but as you jammed your hand along the pane, the thing only rattled dumbly in response. You huffed, focused.

“I mean life is transient and nothing’s guaranteed,” he said. “Who knows who we’ll be tomorrow, you know? Who knows how long these moments will last?”

You stilled for a moment, staring out your closed window, hand still poised to force it open. You glanced over your shoulder at your tiny apartment — clothes strewn over every piece of furniture, easel gathering dust in the corner of your living room, unused for the better part of a year, paintings still unhung propped against walls on the floor — and couldn’t help but sigh. As silver moonlight filtered in through your curtains, you felt an unfamiliar tug in your chest. A longing that didn’t make sense.

You had the job, the boyfriend, the social life…

You had it all.

But why did Namjoon’s words make you feel so hollow?

And before you even realized what you were doing, you replied, “How much is it gonna cost?”

“What’re you thinking about?” asks a soft voice from beside you.

Startled, you scramble slightly, sending a spray of sand flying through the air. You sputter a little, having inhaled too quickly for your lungs to handle, and squint against the golden sun. But as you settle enough to face the person beside you, you’re surprised to see it’s Jimin. Sunset drenches the expanse of shoreline, catches in the ends of his black hair, outlines the side of his rosy cheek as he gives you an easy smile.

You raise your brows. “Hm?”

He chuckles, rubs the back of his neck, and shrugs as he digs the heels of his hands into the sand, leans back on them. “Just...looked pensive.”

“Pensive…,” you repeat, mulling it over. You purse your lips. “I guess just...thinking about this trip.”

“What about it?”

“Just...why I even bothered coming,” you begin, then chuckled and eyed him sidelong. “You saw how I was today. The whole...adventure thing isn’t really my scene.”

He smiles, revealing on closer inspection one charming crooked tooth, and tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean? You looked like you were having the time of your life!” he says, nudging you with his elbow.

You smile at your knees, now pulled toward your chest, and sigh. “Thanks for saying that, but you know I was a mess.”

He pouts a little. “You weren’t.”

Glancing his way, you find him with furrowed brows staring distantly at the ocean. “Mm…,” you mumble in response.

He sighs. “You were scared,” he begins, then shrugs. “But you did it anyway. What’s so bad about that?”

You sense that he’s perhaps talking about something else while talking about you. Like he’s saying two things at once. But you don’t bother prying. Instead, you simply sigh and join him staring at the surf.

“It’s beautiful, huh?” you remark as the two of you sit side by side. And there’s a gentle sort of quiet between you, one you never expected to share with someone like Jimin.

But somehow, here he is. And looking at him as he watches the waves splash forward and recede, you can’t help but feel a little guilty for your attitude towards him. Guilty for the dread you’d felt as you boarded the plane behind him. Guilty for the scowl you’d worn as he walked beside you on the trail up to the zipline today. Guilty for the complaints you’d aired to Namjoon about him.

“Yeah,” he says with a pleasant, lazy smile.

Birdsongs welcome you to the fresh island morning. Lazily, you roll onto your side and peel your eyes open, straining against the sunlight pouring in through your ocean-facing windows. You yawn, pushing yourself up onto your bottom to stretch sore arms above your head. You twist your torso this way and that, crack your knuckles, point your toes as you extend your legs before you. The room is filled with bright morning light, all hardwood floors and tapestries on the walls. You glance around your bedroom -- one of eight private rooms in this massive Airbnb -- and realize with a start that this is the first morning in years that you haven’t immediately grabbed for your phone to check for work emails.

You expect, perhaps, to be unnerved by this. This lack of structure, lack of organization.

But, perhaps more unsettlingly, you are…

Surprisingly calm.

You shake your head and pad on bare feet into the bathroom beside your room. As you brush your teeth, you lock sleepy eyes with your reflection and can’t help but crack a little smile. For the first time in a long time, you look like you’ve had a proper night’s sleep.

You emerge in the living room a few moments later to find Taehyung -- Namjoon’s stylist friend -- and Seokjin -- Namjoon’s actor friend -- still sleeping on the couch, the TV still droning on as they’d likely forgotten to turn it off. And, standing in the kitchen by himself nursing a cup of coffee and a calm smile, is Namjoon. He’s caught a bit of a tan, glowing in the gentle sunlight, and his eyes are warm and fond as he looks out across the living room at his friends.

As quietly as you can manage, you maneuver around the sleeping boys and take a place beside Namjoon, resting a hip against the marble counter. “Morning,” he says softly.

You nod once. “Morning,” you repeat, and hold your hand out for his mug of coffee, wiggling your eager fingers. He chuckles and relents without much fight, offering the handle to you carefully. You take a warm, welcome sip and sigh. “How’d you sleep?” you ask.

He hums a little and adjusts the sleeve of his loose tee. “So tired I didn’t even dream,” he says with a laugh.

Smiling you reply, “Me either.”

He eyes you with a knowing smile and squints a little. Like he’s teasing you. “You like it here, don’t you?” he asks.

You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a healthy shove. He laughs in response, but says nothing more as you sweep your gaze out toward the wall of windows leading down to the beach. It’s immaculate in the morning time. Not a single silhouette dots the shoreline, only fishing boats just beyond the surf. Tourists are still asleep, you reckon, and you feel a little proud to not be one of them sleeping away the most beautiful hours of the day. You can see faint traces of clouds ringing the horizon, and the pastel yellows of sunrise giving way to the azure blue sky.

“It’s...really nice,” you admit with a nod, sipping the coffee once more. And, without meaning to, you think of Jimin yesterday. His hand on your shoulder, his comforting words reminding you to ground yourself before you floated away. “Yeah…,” you add, concealing an unintended smile.

Namjoon, however, has always been the smarter one out of the two of you and, predictably, he catches this shift in your expression and turns to you head on with raised brows. “Whoa!” he remarks with a grin. He points to your face with his index finger. “Look at that!”

You swat his hand away with a laugh and roll your eyes. “Lay off, alright? I’m having a good time. Isn’t that the whole point?”

He chuckles and sighs as he rests once more beside you. Gently, he lifts a hand to softly pat the top of your head. You’re certain your shock registers plainly on your face as he pats again. “I’m proud of you,” he says.

And in the simplest of phrases, he’s managed to pluck something profound from inside of you. You don’t need to ask to know precisely what he means.

Why does it make you want to cry?

“Morning,” says a quiet voice from behind Namjoon and, leaning slightly so you can see around your friend’s broad chest, you notice Jimin standing there and can’t help but smile.

He glances between Namjoon and you for a few seconds, brows lifted as if in question, before Namjoon clears his throat and wordlessly excuses himself, snatching his coffee on his way back into the living room where he begins rallying the boys awake.

You sigh, running a finger along the countertop’s perfect edge. “What’s on the agenda for today?” asks Jimin as he settles beside you.

You pause to think. “Um…,” you begin, tapping your lips with your fingers. “I think…,” you continue, musing as you begin to work your lower lip between your index finger and thumb. “Something about ATVs.”

But before you’ve even finished your sentence, Jimin has seized your hand in his and is now standing so close you can smell the scent of his detergent wafting up from his pajama shirt. He stares down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a smirk, gaze flashing around your face before landing on your lips as he pulls both your hands down toward your shoulder. Your heart begins to race, eyes wide, skin hot where his fingers touch yours, and you swallow hard as he chuckles a few times, his breath fanning out across your warm face.

“Sorry,” he says, voice low and breathy. “It was distracting.” He then drops your hand and swivels on his heel, back toward the hallway from which he’d come. He pauses, however, to shoot you a wink over his shoulder. “Hard to focus when you do that,” he says, tapping his own plump lower lip with his fingertip before offering a wave and meandering down the hall.

And you stand there dumb, heart pounding so loud you can’t hear the crashing waves just outside the window.

You were shocked when you found out Hanseul had been messing around behind your back. Gutted, really. If it hadn’t been for Hanseul leaving his Instagram logged on to your phone, you’d probably never have found out to begin with. He’d always been that sort of guy, though.

Reckless.

And how very cliche, you’d thought as you read through months of exchanged messages, that he’d exchanged you like a used car for a newer model once he’d gotten tired of you. You dragged your finger almost lazily across the screen, brows raised as you rested on your couch, reruns of The Office blending into background noise. And where perhaps you’d expected hurt and resentment, you found only a grim acceptance.

Of course, you thought to yourself with a strange chuckle as you read the most recent message. A sappy sort of love IM that made your stomach churn. Riddled with sentimentality and grand platitudes, the messages reminded you of the ones you’d exchanged with Hanseul in the beginning. The ones that made you hopeful. Of course.

Somewhere amongst that grim acceptance, however, was something you didn’t expect. Something primal. A sort of fear that had no name.

Fear, perhaps, of the implications.

Fear of all the things that would have to change, all the comforts you’d known for years chipping away like old paint left on the wall too long.

And so, like a house of cards, your world shook and crumbled mightily down to its very foundation.

You’re slack-jawed as you stare at the row of ATVs standing equidistant before you. Eight identical machines pointed down the rolling hills behind you. An instructor standing with a grin and hands on her hips as she watches you scan the locomotives with your eyes wide and round. Beside you is Namjoon, smiling too broadly for his face to accommodate, with Seokjin and Taehyung drowsily fighting yawns. Jimin stands on your other side, arms crossed as he smirks at the ATVs like he’s done it all and seen it all before. His friend Jungkook is practically vibrating with anticipation, and Hoseok -- another choreographer from the company -- stands whispering in low tones with Yoongi, the young PD Namjoon never stops talking about.

The imposing green trees sway in the breeze around you: all potential threats as your group nears the line of ATVs. You wonder just how long you can manage on one of the things before hitting one of those tall waving trees. Anxiously, you glance over your shoulder at the hills extending as far as you can see. More possibilities for horrific injury.

As you tromp through the yielding sand underfoot, you feel someone step closer to you and you don’t need to lift your eyes from your boots to know who it is.

“You know, if you’re scared-,” Namjoon begins, but you silence him with a look, gaze severe.

He raises his hands in surrender before chuckling and patting your shoulder. He says nothing more as he swerves around you to hook his elbow around Taehyung’s neck. The two, laughing, continue toward the row of ATVs. Taking a moment to manage your breath, you press your palm against the rubber handle. You shut your eyes.

One.

You’re getting on this fucking ATV.

Two.

You’ve come this far, you can’t chicken out now.

Three.

You always chicken out.

Four.

When was the last time you did something that scared you this much?

Five.

Well...yesterday.

Six.

Before that though.

Seven.

When was the last time you took a risk?

Eight.

When was the last time you did something you wanted to do?

Nine.

Something you really wanted…

Ten.

You take a long inhale, nod once, and swing your leg over the side of the ATV. With both shaking hands gripping the handlebars, you glance to the side to see everyone else has mounted their vehicles, except for one. Jimin stands at the end of the line, talking with the guide too quietly to hear, but the way he’s waving his hands makes it seem like there’s a problem. The guide glances around, brows knit, before shrugging his shoulders and cupping a hand around the side of his mouth to shout.

“Hey guys! Looks like we’re one ATV short! Someone’s gonna have to share!” he calls, and grumbles resound around the group.

Beside you, Namjoon and Taehyung complain about having to share, both clearly not too keen on offering Jimin a spot on their ATV. You briefly feel bad for him, standing on the edge without a place to go to. You wonder if he feels left out, or if perhaps he’s considering staying back so the guide can show you the way. Without meaning to, you turn your head and lock eyes with Jimin and the instant you to you wish you hadn’t. Because now his eyes have lit up and his face is splitting in a small, hopeful smile.

And you know you’re cooked.

With a sigh, you raise your hand and wave it like mad, beckoning Jimin over. After all that, the breathing exercises and everything, after finding your courage, here you are handing over the reins.

“You can ride with me,” you say with a sigh as Jimin emerges at your side, smiling bright.

“Thank you,” he says with a laugh before hoisting himself up behind you.

“Oh!” you exclaim as Jimin rests his hands on his knees, right beside your thighs. He leans around your side and eyes you with wide brows. “I figured you’d wanna drive…,” you say, face going hot.

He blinks at you for a moment longer than normal before splitting into a grin and nudging your hip with his knee. “Well why would I do that?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “You looked really determined.”

Just like that, he understands exactly how you feel.

Startled, you turn to face him halfway, twisting your torso awkwardly as you lock eyes. He’s still smiling, still bright. The apples of his cheeks are redder than yesterday, and the bridge of his nose. A sunburn. He looks peaceful. As if he trusts you to drive this massive machine. As if it’s not even a thought that’s crossed his mind.

As if he never even considered taking this ATV from you.

“You guys ready?” shouts the guide with a hoot.

The boys around you holler their responses but you stay silent, still just staring at Jimin as he shields his face from the sun with one hand, still smiling, still peaceful.

You grip the handlebars and kick the ATV to life.

You first met Namjoon when you were in high school. He was a grade above you, so you’d never had reason to speak with him. Aside from passing him in the halls every now and again, you didn’t really interact with him at all. But things changed when he approached you after class as you finished cleaning off the blackboards. You’d stayed behind not because you wanted to, but because your classmate had pawned their classroom duties on you after a miserable game of Gin Rummy at lunch. You hadn’t protested much once the responsibility had fallen on your shoulders.

Another excuse to avoid going home.

Bony knuckles rapped against the blackboard beside your head and you jumped out of your skin, releasing a scream several octaves higher than you anticipated. But as the moment of panic passed, you realized with a start that the one who’d roused your attention was indeed upperclassman Kim Namjoon. And there he stood with a small dimpled smile and gentle eyes scanning you. You weren’t sure what he was looking for when he looked at you, but the way he tilted his head to the side made you think that perhaps he’d found it.

“Hey,” he said, face outlined by the last golden rays of autumn daylight.

You swallowed hard and took half a step back toward the podium. “Uh...hi…?”

“This yours?” he asked, dangling a sketchbook before you with one hand.

It took you several moments of squinting at the Strathmore sketchbook to realize that, in fact, it was yours. Your name was right there in the right corner where you’d scribbled it a month ago. And there was the tear in the cover from when your mother had tried to rip the thing from your hands -- unsuccessfully.

A rush of fear swelled through you and you snatched the pad from his outstretched hands like you were a prisoner and he was offering you food. Scared he’d rescind his offer if given even a moment to think it over. And as you clutched the thing to your chest, you scanned him with narrowed eyes.

“Where did you get this?” you asked. You were certain you had kept it safely in your bookbag since lunch. But glancing at the bookbag again, you found it surprisingly empty.

Namjoon raised his brows and raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, then chuckled with a shrug. “What kind of thief would return the thing they stole anyway?”

You paused for a moment, brows furrowed, before sighing and nodding. “I guess that’s true,” you admitted before gently guiding the sketchbook back into the mouth of your backpack. “Um…,” you hedged as you turned back to the guy. You held out your hand to him and he rolled up the long sleeve of his uniform cardigan to take it in his own. “Thanks,” you finished with a shake.

He shook his head. “Don’t mention it,” he said, laughing a little. “Had to ask around to find out which class you were in though.”

You felt a warm bloom of embarrassment and pulled your hand away, shoving it back into your pocket and averting your eyes. “I don’t have a job or anything,” you said.

He blinked at you. “Hm? What’re you talking about?”

You rubbed the side of your arm and shrugged. “My family’s kinda poor too. Like, we do fine, but my parents are really serious about money so…,”

“What’s your point?” asked Namjoon with wide, curious brown eyes.

You stared at him for a moment, puzzled, before continuing. “Aren’t you gonna ask for, like, reward money or something?”

He released a booming, chesty laugh before waving his arms like mad and shaking his head. “No! God, do I look like a thug to you?”

You eyed him from top to bottom and shrugged. “I don’t really know what a thug is supposed to look like.”

He sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “Forget the money,” he said, pausing to give you a warm smile. “I just wanted to meet the person who made those drawings.”

You went stiffer than a board. For a moment, time stood still. Namjoon froze before you, the gently falling leaves outside the classroom window froze, and you froze too. Like your feet were rooted to the ground.

“You...did you look through it?” you asked softly, too horrified to raise your voice above a bare whisper.

He nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I was looking for a phone number or something on the inside flap, but then I got distracted by the art.”

“You…”

“You’re really talented,” he said, offering another big smile. “Like, you could go pro if you wanted to.”

You swallowed hard, your throat constricting, and chucked the dirty blackboard eraser on the podium with a puff of fine dust. Without another word, you zipped up your backpack and slung it over your shoulders. You walked past him quickly, not even sparing him a glance, and walked faster when he followed you, calling after you and begging you to turn around.

Namjoon followed you around for a month after that: waiting outside your classroom after school, catching you off guard as you sketched in the courtyard during your lunch break, walking his bike behind you as you led the way to the bus stop, cheering for you at the sports festival and causing you to miss the volleyball coming straight for you. Every time he’d come around, you’d turn grey with horror and you wouldn’t say a word. But luckily for you, Namjoon said plenty enough for both of you. It was always, When are you gonna join the drawing club? or, You should start working on a portfolio, or, If you love art so much, why aren’t you applying to an arts college?

You didn’t bother asking how he knew where you were applying. As you’d gotten to know him, you’d begun to understand his uncanny ability to secure sensitive information from teachers. It seemed they all loved him about as much as you despised him. Not long after that comment, you finally began responding when he spoke to you. And you even began bickering like real friends.

After a while, you grew accustomed to him being around all the time. To the point that, when he graduated a year before you and went on to pursue a degree in music, you’d felt almost lonesome without him. And to the point that, when you texted him about your choice to pursue a degree in business, you were almost relieved when he caught the late bus out to your house to scold you.

One day you’re gonna snap, he’d said that night in a moment of calm. You’re gonna finally have enough of living for them. And it’s gonna hurt when it happens. Bad.

But the scolding had never been enough.

Because, in the end, that persistent fear ran like still waters through your body.

You’re realizing more and more that it’s the same fear. That it’s always been the same fear. Back then when you were so scared of losing Hanseul that you considered not even telling him you’d found the messages. In high school when you were too scared to show anyone your sketchbook. Even now, as you straddle the vibrating ATV, Jimin’s arms wrapped lazily around your middle as he giggles behind you, you’re scared to make a single sound for fear of messing up your focus on the hills before you.

If you really think about it, it’s all the same.

When you boil it down to its core, it’s always been the same.

Fear of fucking up.

Like you’ve been walking a tightrope from the start, and any small misstep will result in you plummeting, face first, into the ground below.

Your knuckles go white against your skin as you clutch the handlebars. Stiff, you follow the guide as he vaults over a hill, having no choice but to do the same. You launch your ATV over the sandy bump, sending both you and Jimin flying through the air. And even though a part of you expects to go splat in the dirt, after a few weightless seconds of flight, the two of you return to earth in one piece. This time, it isn’t Jimin’s laughter that startles you.

It’s your own.

“Holy shit!” Namjoon shouts as he runs toward you, face covered in fine dust. He grins at you like you’re his child, and as you slide off the side of the ATV, he sweeps you up in a big hug, laughing. “You did so good!”

You laugh too, patting his flexed bicep, and lean away slightly to get a better look at his dirty face. “God,” you say with a laugh, running the pad of your fingertip along his cheek, leaving behind a stripe of clean skin. “You need a shower, Joon.”

He nods and peels himself away, turning his attention to Jimin behind you. “You don’t look so good,” he remarks with raised brows.

And as you turn to see for yourself, you notice that in fact Jimin doesn’t look so good. Up until then it had been all laughter and smiles and playful squeezes, but now that he was standing in the dirt, arms crossed, leaning back against the ATV with his helmet in his hand, he looked...less than pleased. He watches you and Namjoon with narrowed eyes.

Oh God, you think in a moment of blind panic, I bet he wanted to drive the ATV after all...

But the moment Namjoon approaches and claps his hand against Jimin’s shoulder, the latter perks up and his eyes go bright once more. He turns a grin towards you and offers a big thumbs up. The sky above his waving hair is a perfect blue, and the sun is unrelenting, but somehow his smile is brighter. Carefully, you join the duo and pat the ATV with a sigh. Looking at it now, it doesn’t seem so scary at all. And after all the tips your guide had given throughout the course, you feel ready to do it all again if you get the chance.

Jimin eyes you with a fond smile. “How’d you like it?” he asks.

You hum. “It was...really exhilarating,” you say with a grin. Gently, you reach out your hand for Jimin to shake and without missing a beat he laughs and takes it.

But instead of shaking it, he gives a sharp yank and you go tumbling into his chest. Heart hammering, you struggle to regain your footing, but before you can process what’s going on, Jimin wraps both arms around your back and holds you tight. You’re sure your face reveals your chagrin, so you’re careful to keep it buried in his chest. And although it’s muffled through the fabric of his shirt, you can hear Jimin’s heart thumping quick.

“Thanks for letting me ride with you,” he says quietly against your hair.

You swallow hard, nerves making your hands sweat, and nod once. “Um...yeah, of course.” You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes your parted lips and, hesitantly, you reach around to pat Jimin’s back with one hand. “It was fun.”

He backs up with a smile, but keeps one hand on your shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s do it again when we get home.”

You laugh again, eyes wide. “Are there ATV courses at home?”

Jimin pauses, purses his lips, and shrugs. “Let’s find out.”

Namjoon snaps his fingers. “Shoot! What time is it?” he asks, brows knitting.

You check the watch around your wrist and squint at it, but it’s hard to focus on anything with Jimin still touching you. “Um...half past two,” you say, brain foggy as Jimin steps closer.

He glances over your shoulder to stare intently at your wristwatch. Easily, he slides his hand along your shoulder blades before letting it rest at the small of your back. You can feel the ends of his hair tickling your hot cheek. He hums a little beside you and nods once, as if he is simply verifying the time. Perhaps he is simply doing that.

“Shoot!” Namjoon exclaims again. “If we don’t leave, like, now we’re gonna be late for snorkeling!”

Without meaning to, you slide your eyes toward Jimin and raise your brows only to find him staring at you with the same expression. The two of you share a knowing look before breaking into small smiles.

“Wouldn’t wanna be late for snorkeling,” Jimin says under his breath as Namjoon jogs back toward the guide, all the while frantically miming with his hands.

You grin. “God forbid.”

Hanseul said something once that really stuck with you. Not the sort of sentimental thing that you thought might’ve stuck with you, but something entirely mundane. Something trivial, something said in passing.

It was a Sunday afternoon. Neither of you had work, so you’d decided to take a nice long drive through the city. The sky was endlessly blue and beautiful, and even though you were just one car in the infinite stream of vehicles on the highway, you felt somehow free. With the windows rolled down all the way and music bumping softly through Hanseul’s car’s speaker, you remember shutting your eyes and just...breathing for a minute. And that was enough.

“Jesus Christ!” Hanseul shouted with a belabored sigh, and your eyes snapped open once more. You were quick to locate the source of his frustration and found, merging into your lane from the right, a massive freight truck. “I will never understand the hubris of semi drivers who think it’s a good idea to pass other semi drivers.”

Settling your racing heart, you sighed and breathed a laugh. “Impatience I guess,” you remarked, but he was prickly beside you and you knew he wasn’t finished.

He scoffed. “As if passing that guy is gonna get him there any faster,” he said, then rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Everyone should just go their own pace.”

And with that, he stopped talking. And you returned to leaning your head against the passenger doorframe, gazing out at the line of cars entering the highway.

The sun is white hot on your bare skin as you tread water, face bobbing just below the ocean’s surface. Floating like a buoy, you squint into the endless blue to catch a glimpse of some wildlife. It’s not as easy as it looks on Instagram, that much is clear to you now. The waves waves are gentle but restless as they rock you around and the plastic of the snorkel pushes uncomfortably against the sensitive skin of your lips. Your arms and legs are still sore from the previous day’s hike, and now your thighs ache from gripping the ATV. But somehow, despite the hardiness of it all, as you float parallel to the ocean floor, you can’t help but stare with wide-eyed wonder every time a flash of red fin or plume of underwater dust catches your eye. And so, mystified, you swim onward.

You feel someone swim up beside you, but it’s too much labor to look and you can’t tear your eyes away from a particularly beautiful fish cresting over the top of some coral beyond your fingertips. It’s only when that someone taps your shoulder that you finally snap from your daze and, blinking quickly, burst out from beneath the water and shove your snorkel to the side. Fearing catastrophe, you turn gasping toward Jimin as he wades beside you with a grin.

And your heart settles down.

You pat your chest a little and sigh. “Jesus,” you mumble.

“Scared you?” he asks, and from this close it’s hard not to get caught up in the brown of his eyes, in the wet ends of his dark hair as they dangle just above his eyebrows.

With the saltwater and the sunlight kissing his skin, he’s practically glowing.

You shake your head. “What’s up?” you ask.

He points with one finger toward the water below and wiggles his brows. “You wanna go down with me? The instructor said it’s really awesome.”

You stare at him for a long moment, trying to discern any malintent or ulterior motive and, upon gleaning none, settle for a nervous, breathy laugh. “Ah, I dunno…,” you say, rubbing your nose with the side of your finger. You look away, toward Jungkook’s fins as they flap violently against the glassy surface of the water. “I’m happy just looking from up here.”

Jimin hums a little. “You sure?” he asks, eyeing you like he knows something you don’t. “You seemed really into it when I came over.”

You swallow hard and your mouth tastes like seawater and anxiety. “No, I’m…,” you start, but it’s weak. The sentence trails into nothing.

He smiles bright enough to blind and you almost have to shield your eyes. “Come on,” he says, offering his hand toward you. “We’ll go down together and come back up together. I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”

You stare at his outstretched fingers, pruny and slightly sunkissed, and ponder for a moment. Were you always so tepid? So lukewarm? Wasn’t there ever a time in your life when you did things just because they sounded fun? Thinking back, it’s hard to pinpoint the precise moment you became so pragmatic, so afraid. Perhaps when your parents told you a career in art wouldn’t work out for you. That you didn’t have the stuff. Perhaps even before that.

But deep down, buried deeper than you’d like you admit, there’s a part of you that’s always wanted to zipline through the jungle. To ride ATVs. To see the coral up close.

That slumbering part of you is beginning to awaken.

And you wonder as you take Jimin’s hand with an uncertain smile if this has been your pace all along.

He giggles and the two of you dive in unison. You follow the instructions the snorkeling teachers gave you on the boat, and you hold your breath just the way you’re supposed to. Nonetheless, the deeper you swim, the cooler the water becomes and the more your nerves begin to rattle.

Only this time, you don’t find it unpleasant. Not at all, actually.

Because Jimin’s hand is warm.

The two of you coast to a stop in front of the vibrant red coral as a school of orange fish rushes by in a wave. You both reel back for only a moment and then, catching each other’s eyes, exchange the biggest smiles your snorkels allow. And boy is Jimin right. It is awesome. You swear you’ve never seen colors like this. Juxtaposed against the perfect blue all around, the coral reef stands like a mountain underwater, fish flying like birds around the jagged pink peaks, hiding in the deep purple. Anemones wave so close you’re tempted to touch them, and as you lean closer for a better look, you see a red seahorse nestled beside a green sea plant. As if sensing you there, the tiny fish scoots out from its cover and makes its way toward you. Eagerly, you extend your index finger and the creature nudges you just slightly before continuing on its way to the other side of the coral barrier.

Your heart is pounding, racing like a sports car and loud like one too. You turn toward Jimin with eyes blown wide and he’s grinning at you, so fond. He gives your hand a squeeze and you can’t help but squeeze back. Wordlessly, he jerks his head toward the surface, and the way the water plays with his hair makes it look like silk. You’re distracted for a moment by how beautiful it is, how beautiful he is, but he squeezes your hand again and once more jerks his chin upward. Ah! You need air!

You only realize it as Jimin makes a motion toward the surface, but now that you’re conscious of it it’s all you can think of. Quickly, the two of you begin kicking in unison toward where the water breaks way and, as you pop out from below, the two of you gasp a little while catching your breath. Wasting not a single second, you rip your snorkel off and shove your goggles up against your hairline. Grinning so wide it hurts, you smack Jimin’s shoulder.

“That was--!! It was--!!” you begin, but you can’t even finish your sentence.

Jimin laughs, that one laugh that sounds like bells, and his eyes nearly vanish as he smiles. “Right?” he asks.

You nod, clapping your hand against your cheek. “God! Did you see that seahorse?!”

“I did!”

“Wasn’t it--?!”

“It was!”

You laugh, exhilarated, and stare down at the distorted coral reef below your feet, warped by the shifting water. Your heart is a hammer in your chest. “Jimin!” you exclaim, not knowing quite what else to say.

He laughs. “Yeah!”

You turn to him, sincerely this time as the adrenaline slowly drains from your body, and meet his half-shut eyes. You realize with a start that you’re still holding his hand quite tight. And he’s making no move to change that. Gently, you squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, and it’s all you can say really.

Drifting together in the middle of the ocean, two dots floating in the blue expanse, there’s something both completely insignificant and totally profound about it all. You can’t name it, but the sensation in your chest feels like when you finally get the water out of your ear after a day at the pool. Like something got dislodged.

And as Jimin looks at you with that bright smile, you smile back. “I’m glad you came,” he says gently.

And it’s honest.

Almost honest enough to make you forget the things he said when you first met.

“Why’d you say all that stuff at the bar back home?” you manage to ask over the sound of Hoseok laughing nearby.

You glance over to where Hoseok and Jungkook swim chatting away, much like you and Jimin.

Only they aren’t holding hands.

Jimin’s hand goes a little tight and he clears his throat. “Uh...well,” he begins, but before he can continue, Namjoon pops up from below the water right beside you.

You scream in surprise and smack the top of his head with your snorkel, but Namjoon only laughs and gives you a splash. “What’re you guys doing? There’s a whole ocean down there!” he asks, but when his eyes travel sideways toward Jimin, his expression changes. Like a nervous dog.

You look too and see Jimin looks...well, pretty mad. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s like there’s some tension between Jimin and Namjoon today. A sense of competition perhaps? It’s hard to say. But as you stare at Jimin now, his brow is low and his jaw is clenched and he quietly slips his hand from yours.

You’re not expecting to be sitting beside legendary producer Min Yoongi on a rattling motor boat in the middle of the ocean, but here you are. Life is funny that way, you suppose as the two of you jostle against one another. Shoulder-to-shoulder you sit like students on a field trip, neither one saying much of anything at all. As the sun begins its lazy descent across the sky, you’re stranded, sunburnt, returning to shore after a long afternoon with the fish.

You glance around for someone to save you, to perhaps sweep you up in one of the several shouting conversations being held around you on all sides, but your eyes can’t seem to snag anyone else’s. Well, besides Namjoon who eagerly widens his own and gives you that big dumb smile that somehow has become bigger and dumber since arriving on the island. Even Jimin won’t look at you and is, in fact, sulking at the end of the rows of benches, gazing out at the trail of sunset leaking out across the water like a golden road. Perhaps he’s wondering, like you, what it might be like to walk on it.

Or perhaps he’s mad at you.

Your heart sinks.

You can’t place it, but he doesn’t seem himself. After sliding his hand from inside yours, he’d swum away from you and Namjoon to begin chatting with Yoongi. It’s not easy to make a show of being mad when you’re treading water in the middle of the sea, but he managed. As goofy as it was to watch him doggie-paddle away in a huff, part of you worried that you’d somehow set him off. Like you’d activated that part of him from the night you met, the angry, bitter part that he’s been holding in the entire trip so far.

But what could you have done?

Nothing, as far as you’re concerned. He’s neither a friend nor a lover. He’s just…someone you know through Namjoon. Just a cursory orbiter in your solar system. You barely think about him when you’re apart.

Well…you used to.

Now, as you watch him watching the water, it’s all you can do not to stand up on wobbly sea legs and stumble over to him with crossed arms and demand he tell you what’s wrong. And, more disturbingly, now as you watch him watching the water, there’s a strange, sickly sweet part of you that wants to sit beside him and press the bare skin of your thigh against his.

“He’s just moody,” Yoongi says from beside you, the first words he’s spoken to you during the entirety of this trip.

Your eyes go wide and you turn only your head — it’s the only part of you that’s not squished between him and the inside of the boat — to look at him. Pale and pretty, Yoongi is watching Jimin too. But with a considerably less troubled expression than your own. He slides his eyes toward you and offers a small, barely there smile.

“You’re worried, right?” he continues.

You think for a moment, think about lying, but the motor on this boat is far too loud for anyone else to hear your conversation and besides…it sounds like Yoongi’s got some information on Jimin that you want to know.

Not that you like him or anything.

You nod. “Yeah, a little. Things were really cool all day today, but…,” you begin, then sigh and shrug. “Seems like maybe he doesn’t like me much.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Doubt that,” he says, then rolls his eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, whatever he’s thinking.

Only it’s not obvious. You have no idea what’s going on in that genius brain of his, and the way he eyes you sidelong let’s you know he’s not going to tell you. Not easily anyway.

So you sigh and rest your cheek in your hand. “I just think he hates me,” you continue, doubling down, hoping that circumnavigation will get you to the treasure.

Yoongi cocks a brow. “He definitely doesn’t hate you,” he says, and there’s something in the word ‘definitely’ that sounds like he’s hiding something inside it.

“We were having such a nice time,” you go on, feigning a heavy sigh, “but then poof. Like nothing even happened. I think I made him mad.”

“If you’re trying to get me to gossip about my friend, I’ll tell you right now,” Yoongi begins, then leans toward you with a conspiratorial smirk, “all you had to do was ask.”

Your eyes alight and you grin. “Really?”

“Jimin’s scoping you out,” Yoongi says, nodding once like again it’s obvious. “He’s testing the waters.”

“Why?”

“Duh,” he says with a laugh. “He’s interested in you. Has been since we all met at the bar.”

You stiffen. Interested? You can’t really fathom it. Someone like him, a bona fide and self admitted heart breaker, is interested in you? Perhaps you’ve been dating too many Hanseuls but the thought of a Jimin being interested in you is inconceivable.

“How’d you know?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

He smiles and shakes his head. “We’ve been friends for ages now. I know when he’s interested in someone,” he says. He pauses, glances at Jimin only to find him now staring with wide eyes at the two of you. Like you’re sharing secrets. Which…you suppose now that you are. “He doesn’t always know though.”

“Really?” you ask, meeting Jimin’s worried eyes from across the boat. You offer a smile, almost like a white flag, which he doesn’t reciprocate.

“He’s been through bad relationships in the past. You know how that goes, from what Namjoon says,” Yoongi pauses to laugh.

You go hot. You didn't known Namjoon had made your relationship information public domain. You’ll have to have a word with him soon. “From the way he talked at the bar, sounds like he’s the one who puts other people through bad relationships.”

“No, that’s a recent development,” says Yoongi, nodding. “He wasn’t always like that. Used to be a really attentive guy, but…I dunno. You get burned one too many times and you start doing the burning I guess.”

You cock a brow. “Is that right?” you ask, and plead with your unreasonable heart to stop pounding like mad in your chest. Why are you so excited to learn about him? “Seems like a real player.”

“Who still uses that word?” Yoongi teases with a laugh and you’re surprised by just how often he laughs. “Anyway, no. He only seems that way. He’s actually, like…really possessive and jealous. Kinda what self destructed his last real relationship.”

“No way,” you say, recalling what he’d said that night.

If you get hurt you’re the one whose expectations were too high.

Was that advice for me or for himself? I turn to look at Jimin only to find him with that same nervousness etched into his features. He swipes his tongue along his bottom lip and knits his brows. You don’t know what exactly he’s so afraid of, don’t know what sort of relationship has warped him so badly, but you’re certain that this anxious, worried Jimin is the real one.

And so is the one who helped you at the zipline on the first day.

And so is the one who held your hand underwater.

And so is the one who is still giving you the silent treatment.

You understand better than anyone that emotional trauma manifests in many ways. For you, it was burning your first easel and giving your paints away to your cousin back in high school. For you, it was getting a boring office job to make your parents proud. For you it was dating Hanseul after Hanseul expecting it to be different.

It’s never different.

But there’s one thing you know for sure: Park Jimin is very, very different.

The Fijian bar is packed to the nines with tourists from all walks of life. Some tall, burly men in Hawaiian shirts — somehow simultaneously on brand and horrendously off brand for Fiji —, a few couples kissing and toughing over margaritas, a bachelorette party — who can afford a bachelorette party to Fiji? — and a whole hosts of other guests flood the scene. It doesn’t seem like Namjoon’s cup of tea, however, and it isn’t yours either. Not really. You prefer lively dive bars with questionable clientele and cheap drinks over tourist traps like this. But as they hand you your cocktail in a plastic tiki mug, you decide perhaps the campiness isn’t that bad. Especially as you take your first sip and realize they pour as heavy here as they do back home.

Jimin’s still boycotting you, and you don’t even bother wondering why. Different is alluring, it’s enchanting, it’s intriguing…

But it’s still dangerous.

And besides, once you leave this island and the magic spell breaks, you’ll see everything more clearly. Jimin included.

And so you’re boycotting him too.

Eagerly, you stand smushed between Yoongi and Jungkook as the fire dancers — is fire dancing even Fijian? — take the floor with an artistic flair. The crowd is electric, excited, and extremely drunk as you all chant for the dancers to take the stage. (Really, is fire dancing Fijian at all?) Jungkook grabs your shoulder and shakes it, causing you to both jump and laugh at the same time, and the three of you stand under the glow of the lanterns hanging on strings overhead. If you look up, you almost mistake them for stars.

As the dancers begin their performance, you cheer with all your chest, and you feel someone press close behind you. You can tell from the firmness of his chest that it’s Namjoon, staring over your shoulder at the stage. It’s hard to get a good view, especially with everyone so drunk, so you lean back and tilt your head out of his way. One hand drapes over your other shoulder as the other nurses his drink and you chat easily with Namjoon despite the physical proximity.

You two may as well have been siblings, anyway.

Had Jimin been that close to you…

Well, you try not to think of that as you work your swirly straw between your teeth.

“Pretty cool,” Namjoon says, but you catch the way his voice sounds just a little listless.

You turn slightly to face him with a grin and, poking his cheek where his dimple would be if he smiled, you giggle. Oh boy, you’re drunk. “I know you’d rather be dancing in caves or fishing for eels, but this can be fun too!”

Namjoon relents with a smile and swats your hand away. “You’re right,” he says easily, sighing as he rests close behind you. “Although fishing for eels sounds really cool.”

You smack his leg with the back of your hand and he responds with laughter. “You know, eels are actually-,”

“Hey,” says a voice you hardly recognize, a voice belonging to Jimin. Only when he speaks now it’s so low and deep in his chest it doesn’t sound like him at all.

You didn’t notice, but he’s taken up Jungkook’s spot at your left and he’s staring at you, all wrapped up in Namjoon, like you’ve committed a horrible crime. For all you know, you have. Nonetheless, you’re too drunk to be too worried and you give him a bright smile and a wave with your drink-less hand.

He edges closer, skin electric as he presses against your side. “You’re smashed,” he remarks, like it’s news.

You laugh. “Mhm!”

He furrows his brow. “You sure you’re good to stay out here?”

“I’m watching, don’t worry,” Namjoon offers with a well-meaning smile.

But this only serves to make Jimin bristle further. He stares at you two like you’re a disfigured monster, two conjoined bodies linked from chest to back, a horrible science experiment gone wrong. And you can’t decide what mixture of emotions is dancing in his dark, heavy eyes but you know it’s no good.

“Alright then,” Jimin says with a sharp nod. “I won’t worry anymore.”

Only you want him to worry. If you’re being honest with yourself — which you are now because he’s right, you’re smashed — you want him to do more than worry. You want him to take your hand and hold it tight. You want him to press his lips against yours in the hallway by the bathrooms. You want his hands on your hips, then on your legs, then—

Well…

Jimin turns around to skulk back to the bar and you let him. Things are spinning and they’re getting too intense too fast. That’s the difference between A Jimin and A Hanseul. That’s the devastating difference. Where Hanseul adds stability, constancy, a bland sort of expectation, Jimin adds…

Excitement.

Perhaps it’s the old artist in you, the one you push down so fervently you often wonder if it’s died in there, but the idea both entrances you and terrifies you in equal measure. So you stay leaning back against Namjoon’s chest, swaying as you watch the fire dancers dazzle and delight, and watch out the corner of your eye as Jimin begins chatting with a particularly attractive blond tourist at the bar.

You pretend not to notice Jimin’s hand on the stranger’s thigh.

The next morning the stranger’s in your Airbnb. You’re the first one awake, having had a wicked headache as soon as you opened your eyes, and as you stare blankly into your coffee mug you hear footsteps coming almost bashfully from down the hallway. Nobody else is around in the living room. Just you, your coffee, and the footsteps. Squinting, you watch as the stranger, not even registering your presence, tiptoes down toward the kitchen and rifles through the fridge. Watching carefully, you almost laugh at the way the stranger picks up each fruit, inspects it, and puts it back before settling for a yogurt.

“Sleeping over and stealing food?” you remark, and you mean for the comment to sound teasing and playful. But it comes out bitter. Sincere.

The stranger lets out a particularly sharp scream before turning to you and dropping the yogurt onto the countertop. “Oh! Uh…shit…I’m…sorry I’ll just…go…now, uh…”

You can feel the awkwardness rising in the room, the sense of intimate dislike coming from both of you — mostly you. And before you can say another word, the stranger is gone, having shuffled like a raccoon caught mid-trash-heist out the front door with a click. You sigh, grip your nose bridge, and shake your head.

“Wow,” says Jimin from the hallway, leaning against the wall with crossed arms and a frown. “Very mature.”

You roll your eyes. “You know it’s not that kind of trip and you still brought a stranger over,” you say, then look at him square. You’re both fuming. “At least vet the people you sleep with to make sure they’re not thieves.”

“It was breakfast,” he says. “Jesus Christ, you’re so stiff.”

Your body goes cold. Who is this new person in Jimin’s skin? Gone is the warm, comforting man who’d helped you day in and day out. In his place was someone new, someone off-putting. You clench your jaw. “Yeah well at least I don’t invite randos over to a shared Airbnb.”

“God,” he groans, lolling his head back like you exhaust him. “Do you ever get tired of being such a fucking stick in the mud?”

You feel your spine stiffen and set your mug of coffee aside. “Pardon me?”

“Like, does it ever get tiring?” he repeats, rolling his beautiful eyes, giving a cruel smirk. You hate that those beautiful lips can curve so wickedly. “Oh, I can’t do it! Oh, I’ll just stay back! Oh, I don’t even like painting,” he says with a dramatic mimicry of your own voice.

How does he know about the painting?

Namjoon…

Your throat constricts. “I’m trying, Jimin,” you say, but your voice comes out thick, labored. Because it’s not true. Because you’re not trying. Not in the real world. Not when you leave this island.

If you keep talking to him, you’ll cry for sure.

Just like before.

He laughs. “Trying?”

“At least I give enough of a shit to try at all!” you snap, and you expect regret to seep into your chest immediately, but it doesn’t come.

Jimin seems taken aback. He cocks a brow. “What’re you saying?”

“At least I’m still brave enough to care,” you continue, standing to your feet and brushing past him. You pause beside him and fix him with a hard glare. “Don’t talk to me again,” you say, and you spit the final word, “ever.”

And he doesn’t. Not as the pack travels through town and picks up little trinkets. Not while you stick practically glued to Namjoon’s side through alleyways and along crowded streets. Not during the night hike or the cave exploring or the picnic on the cliff. Not for days.

Not at all.

And you’re relieved, you think, that he’s respecting your request at least.

But you’re also burdened so heavily it’s like weights on your chest all the time. Because when you happen to meet his eyes, in the instant before you both look away, you see a fresh sort of hurt and you know it’s you who inflicted it this time. You know you touched on something too sensitive. And just because he poked at your open wound doesn’t mean you had a right to poke at his. There’s a vulnerable sort of awareness between you two, awareness of each other. So as you avoid touching the exposed skin of his shoulder with your hand while reaching for a necklace at a street vendor, or as you sweep a hand out in the darkness of the cave, seeking purchase, and nearly grab his forearm, the two of you are quick to repel like magnets.

You sit on a surfboard now, and the moon makes a road of light along the water just as the sun had. It’s the middle of the night, and you’re straddling both sides of the board as the waves rock you back and forth. And you tilt and you sway and you shut your eyes. A few weeks ago you’d have winced at the idea of floating out in the water at night, feet dangling over the expanse of ocean nothing below that extends who knows how far. You’d have called yourself crazy.

Maybe you are crazy.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

You open your eyes and see that road of light. Namjoon told you once that the Swedes have a word for it. Mångata. He told you that last night as the two of you sat on the beach. You’d been doing that lately, too uncomfortable to spend much time in the Airbnb with Jimin lurking about in the shadows and the walls and the scent of the pillows. He’s practically everywhere in there, even when he’s gone.

Namjoon also told you he thinks something’s wrong with Jimin. Something’s shaken him up.

You told him you didn’t care.

And he didn’t tell you anything more.

You kind of wish he would have.

Jimin hasn’t brought home any more strays, not since you and him had your monumental blowout. And while you’re glad he’s respecting you and the others more, you’re also worried. More worried than that day on the boat. More worried than that night at the bar.

Because you see it too. What Namjoon sees. Something is wrong.

Jimin floats several feet away, breaking the mångata into shards of displaced moonlight. He’s a silhouette, small and dark, but outlined by glowing silver. He’s beautiful, even from so far away. Especially from so far away. Ethereal. His head bobs a little and he smiles as he chats with Jungkook and Hoseok. But the smile isn’t all the way there. Even so, it’s lovely. Perhaps because he’s the only one in the road of moonlight, or perhaps because even a halfway ghost of a smile is beautiful if it’s Jimin.

For a painful, blissful moment, almost too short to note, almost too fleeting to feel, you have the irresistible urge to paint it. The road of moonlight, the mångata, leading right from the heavens to Jimin. Shattering like glass, the moonlight breaks behind his board. But he’s suspended in it.

You might cry again just looking at it.

You’re sure you’re all choked up. Night surfing shouldn’t make you cry. But you can’t help it. It’s like your art teacher said, like glimpsing sublimity. It’s torment, staring at it, knowing you can’t paint it and even if you could…you wouldn’t do it. You know your face reveals it all. It always does. And you know that if Namjoon so much as peeks at you, he’ll know you’re about to cry.

Not that he did the night you first met Jimin at the bar. In fact, the only person who seemed to realize you were near to tears that night was-

Jimin seizes your wandering, teary eyes. They lock on hard, like a vice grip, and hold tight. The moonlight’s on you, at least from where Jimin sits on his board, and you’re close enough to make out his features so you know he can make out yours. His eyes go wide like he knows and you know he knows for sure now because he’s paddling with his hands for rudders toward you which makes you panic for real and spin wildly around toward the shore.

You paddle and paddle like mad until your toes touch sand and you abandon your surfboard in the crashing waves forgetting it’s attached to you by your ankle. So you drag the surfboard behind you as the surf tries to drag it back. You know you can easily remove the ankle band and carry the surfboard like a normal person, but God you can’t seem to manage actually doing it because your heart is racing and you feel as if Jimin has unwittingly seen an extremely, horribly, heat-achingly intimate moment.

“Wait!” he calls, breathless, mere yards behind you despite you head start.

You’re crying in earnest now, sobbing as you fight with the cord tethering you to your board, tethering you to that moment on the waves. It’s like you and the surfboard are becoming one thing; you’re completely helpless to the whims of the ocean as it tears you back and spits you out. The tip of the foam board keeps rocking against the sand before the whole thing gets yanked out again and, frustrated, you finally bend down too late to disconnect yourself. But by the time you and the surfboard are once again separate entities, Jimin has run up behind you and is standing, panting, with his surfboard against his hip.

Your tears fall right off your chin and into the water around your ankles before they disappear on the receding wave. An ocean of stars is splayed out overhead, but you can’t even lift your eyes to see it, hands braced on both your knees, sobbing.

And this is the moment.

The moment you finally snap.

And when it happens, it does hurt. Bad.

Because Jimin was never really just Jimin, not really. He was more than that to you, represented more than that. He was the easel you burned. He was the art college brochure you hid from your parents. He was the job listing you saw as an apprentice painter three weeks before going on this trip. He was every missed opportunity, every chance you rejected. He was all of it wrapped into one pretty package.

And he’s staring at you.

You manage to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, but it’s not enough to stop the tears. It’s as if a valve has broken in you that can’t be fixed until everything’s been spilled out of it. An old valve too. As old as you.

“Shit,” he says, like it’s a catchphrase.

You sniffle. “You said that before too,” you choke out through sobs. “At the bar back home.”

He looks at you horrified for a moment before shaking his head. “I know, I…I just…sometimes I do and say things that just fucking suck, you know? Like they just…,” he says, tormented, as he rakes his fingers through his sea slick hair. “Like I can’t help it. It just comes out.”

“Because you’re hurt,” you say, still crying, nearly incoherent.

And his eyes snap back to your splotchy face with the kind of intensity that sets things on fire. “Huh?”

You nod. “That’s why you like me, right?” you ask, sniffling as you struggle to stand upright. “Because I’m hurt too. Hurt people find each other.”

Jimin is still and silent as stone before slowly, he touches a hand to his cheek and keeps it there. “I…it’s not like I’m hurt,” he says. “Just…that my first real relationship ended badly.”

“Yoongi told me,” you say, finally in control of your rapid breathing. “A little.”

Jimin stiffens before, like a rock, collapsing on the ground with his feet halfway in the waves’ path. Not knowing what else to do, you join him. “I thought we’d be together for life, you know? Like…I really believed that.”

You think back to Hanseul. Did you ever feel that way about him? “Mhm,” is all you can choke out.

“But…you know, things fall apart. I guess I was…I was expecting too much without giving all of myself,” he begins, nodding once as he wiped the space beneath his eyes. “Like you said. Half of me.”

“Did your ex say that to you?” you ask carefully, minding each syllable as you forced them out.

He nods. “Just like that too. You’re only giving me half of you and expecting all of me in return,” he repeats, sighing. “That’s why I did it!” he imitates.

“Did what?”

He’s quiet, and you know now why he was so hard on you at the bar. Why he’d known exactly where your weak points were. Because they were his weak points too.

“Why are you crying?” he asks finally, the elephant on the beach.

You swallow hard, the tears having slowed enough to see properly. Enough to see all your friends enjoying the surf and the moonlight. “Because it just…hit me,” you say slowly. “All at once, with no warning at all. It…hit me for real.”

“Is it because we’re leaving soon?”

You shake your head. “That’s not what I mean.” He’s quiet and you know he’s waiting for you to continue. You’re waiting too, if you’re being honest. To find the words. To understand it. “I mean…all of it. The entire crushing culmination of everything I’ve ever not accomplished.” You pause, watch your hands as they lace and unlace. “I think I get why Joon wanted us to come out here.”

“I was jealous,” Jimin admits. More like blurts, because the way he looks now once you meet his eyes is like he didn’t mean to say it. He’s blushing like crazy and he’s got a feral look in his eye. You await his next admission. “Of you and Namjoon. Even though it’s stupid. Even though we…you and me…we aren’t…”

You blink at him. “We aren’t what?”

“We aren’t anything.”

“Who says?”

He stares at you for a long moment. “Then you and Namjoon?”

You shake your head. “Good friends.”

“I…well shit,” he says again, a mantra. He rubs his forehead. “I’m stupid.”

“Yeah.”

“Just…you kinda reminded me what it was like to, like…,” he begins, tossing the words around in his mouth like they still aren’t right, “like feel butterflies, you know?” He shrugs. “To wanna show up for someone. To wanna try.”

You stiffen. It seems the two of you had a propensity for finding each other’s Achilles heel. You’d pinned him as well as he’d pinned you. “I…,” you begin, but there’s nothing you can say. Nothing you can do.

Well…

There is one thing.

But that one thing would change everything. Not just between you and Jimin, but between you and you. Between who you try to be and who you are. Between the life you’ve told yourself to be happy with and the life you want, the life you need.

This one thing…

It’s going to take more than a little courage.

If you’re feeling really nervous, I’ve heard it helps to shut your eyes and count to ten. Like, tell yourself you’re definitely gonna do it once you reach ten and just…go.

One.

He’s staring at you with stars reflected in his eyes.

Two.

Your heart is racing.

Three.

Your palms are itchy in the sand.

Four.

But he’s looking at you, looking like he really sees you.

Five.

Hanseul never looked at you like that.

Six.

Nobody ever looked at you like that.

Seven.

He’s red, his whole face.

Eight.

You’re shaking.

Nine.

Don’t you want to paint it?

Ten.

You lean forward on your hip and, without a word, press your lips agains his. They’re soft, every bit as soft as you imagined and softer, and his skin yields against your light touch. You shuffle closer and so does he, hand snaking around your waist to rest on your lower back, head tilting to deepen the kiss. There’s no teeth-clashing, no cataclysm. There’s a tenderness that only comes from understanding, and it’s warm pressed against him. He draws you closer, holds you by the waist now, you arms around his neck and hands lacing through his saltwater hair. He tastes like ocean, like coconut and sunscreen and salt. And his skin it hot beneath your fingertips, flaming practically. You can’t stop inching closer and closer until—

He pulls away for a breath, eyes wide and so close your noses touch. “Shit,” he exhales, only this time the word feels nice.

And you don’t know what this means or what you’ll do when you get home, but you know you’ve got to quit your job. And you know you’ve got to dust off your easel. And you know, most definitely, that you’ve got to kiss Park Jimin again.

And so you do.

Again.

And again.

And one more time for good measure.

And as you pull away, breathless, your eyes lock and he smiles just a little. “Does this mean I can talk to you again?” he asks.

You shove him lightly by the chest only for him to pull the two of you back together again like magnets, only this time you don’t repel. He smiles so bright it eclipses the moon and, without moving, without breathing, you ask, “Can I paint you?”

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shawnpetermuffins · 5 years

Text

Allergies

Request by @prettylittlethingggg: how about the reader’s allergies are really bad and shawn tries to help (maybe on tour idk your choice)!!!

A/n: thank you for the Request! I loved the idea! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.8k

***

Touring with Shawn is a dream. I get to spend every moment with the love of my life and I get to watch him do what he loves most in the world.

However, I was not prepared for the effects this constant travel would have on me. Going from one city to the next, one country right after the other, it's exhausting. Which is probably why I've suddenly become so allergic to nearly everything outside.

Okay… so I know it doesn't work that way, obviously. I've had allergies my whole life. My main triggers being flowers and dirt. So that phrase, "stop and smell the roses" never really applied to me. But it seems like all Shawn ever wants to do is go outside. Which I guess I get, he's constantly on planes or in hotel rooms, or in arenas and he never truly gets to see the beauty of the places he's in.

And I'm usually willing to go out and see the world with him. But that just isn't the case this time. We'd been exploring nonstop only yesterday, and now my eyes are red and puffy. My nose is stuffed up and running, my throat itches and nothing will help with it. Not to mention my throbbing headache now that the sun is filtering brightly through the thin, sheer curtains of our hotel room.

Shawn's arm is wrapped around my chest, making it even harder for me to breathe seeing as I'm having to inhale deeper since I'm breathing through my mouth. I manage to push him off as gently as I can and make my way to the bathroom for a hot shower, in hopes that the steam with open up my nose a little bit.

It helps a little. I'm still stuffy and my throat and head are still fighting for top pain spot - my head is winning, but not by much.

When I step back into the room, my warm, red skin wrapped in a towel, Shawn looks up from his phone. "Hey, baby. Brian wants to go look at this cool record shop he saw yesterday when we were coming back to the hotel. You wanna get dressed?"

I sigh and dig into my bag, searching for clean underwear and a bra.

My heartbeat is so loud in my ears that I barely register the soft patter of his feet on the carpet and nearly jump out of my skin when his hands find my bare waist. He immediately removes himself from me and I feel bad.

"Sorry," he whispers, now only placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Y/n, look at me."

I do and his face softens with concern, "Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?"

I sniffle, shaking my head. "Just don't feel good." I slip into my underwear and drop the towel to clasp my bra, but Shawn reaches the straps before I do and does it for me.

"What's wrong? And you hurting? Do I need to get you something? You can't take Tylenol right? You're allergic to it?"

"Shawn," I say softly, barely trusting my voice which is raspier than I expected it to be considering it was just an itchy throat. But I forget every time just how bad my allergies get. "Don't worry about me."

He glares at me, "Don't tell me that. How can I not? My girl doesn't feel good."

"I'll live. Go out with Brian. I'm gonna sit this one out."

"What? No." He pulls a shirt out of his suitcase and hands it to me. "Put this on. I'm gonna run to the drugstore and get you some medicine, okay? I'll be back as quickly as possible."

"Shawn, I'm fine. Go hang out. Please."

"I'm not just gonna leave you while you feel like shit. I'd lose good boyfriend points."

"I'm not keeping score," I mumble, sliding into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"I am. And I'd be a horrible boyfriend if I left you alone while you didn't feel good."

"You would n-"

He put his phone up to his ear, holding one finger up, basically telling me to be quiet and I kinda want to punch him for it. Maybe I should be keeping score.

"Brian, hey. So, I can't go today… no, I know, but y/n doesn't feel good. I need to keep her company… No. Yeah. But that not the only reason I called. I have to get her some medicine from the drugstore. You think you could come to our room and just keep an eye on her until I come back?" He's silent for a second and I sigh dramatically, falling back onto the bed. "Oh yeah, they probably would have something downstairs, eh? I'll check there first. Thanks, bud. I'll see you in a minute… okay, bye."

"I don't need a babysitter," I groan, resulting in a cough.

"I know you don't but I would just feel better if you had someone here."

"It's allergies, Shawn. I'm not dying."

"If it's allergies, what bothering you? Eyes, clearly. Nose? You sound kinda stuffy. Do your ears hurt?"

"They just don't work," I roll onto my side, curling into myself and looking up at him while I talk. "One minute you sound really loud and the next you're muffled."

"Okay? What else? Throat?"

I nod, "and my head."

He sighs, "I'm sorry, baby." He leans down to press a kiss to my temple; I melt into his touch, but he pulls away too soon for my liking. "I'll get anything I can. I'll get water and gatorade. Hell, I'll get everything. Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

He nods, finding a pair of socks and a hoodie thrown carelessly in his bag. "I'm gonna get you something anyway. You need to eat."

I roll my eyes, "then why ask me if you're gonna do it anyway?"

He sighs and comes back to sit next to me. "I'm just going to pretend that you're not giving me attitude because you're sick. Can't punish you when you're sick," he smirks, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

"Hmmm… promise to do it when I'm feeling better?" I ask without opening my eyes.

He chuckles in response, "we'll see, honey." There's a knock on the door and he's off the bed in a second. "Hey, buddy. Thanks for doing this."

I don't hear what Brian says, he's speaking much softer than Shawn and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't grateful.

"She's laying on the bed."

"Hey, y/n. How you feeling?" He asks, looking a bit amused with my current state. I know I look like absolute trash.

"Fine enough to stay in the room without a babysitter while Shawn goes downstairs."

"Well, while I would agree," he sits next to me and pats my head. "Shawn doesn't think so."

"It's literally just allergies. I just need to take a pill and I'll be fine. He's fussing about nothing."

"I'm still here, you know?" I hear his foot hit the floor after he shoves his shoe on.

"I'm aware," I grumble, scooting closer to Brian so I can rest my head in his lap. He chuckles and runs his hands through my hair, causing my eyes to grow heavy.

"I'll be right back, baby."

I nod the best I can through my lazy state, eyes closed, and listen for the door to close.

---

I don't know how long he's gone or how I ended up back on my side of the bed instead of on Brian's lap, but I wake up sometime around noon. Shawn's nowhere to be seen, but I hear him strumming a guitar from the small living room. My headache, thankfully, has dulled, and I waddle over to where he's sitting on the couch.

He smiles when he sees me, and I kind of wish I had been a little quieter so I could listen to him play a little longer. "Hey, baby! Have a nice nap?"

I nod, my eye fluttering shut for a second.

"I'm glad." He sets his guitar down and reaches for the bag on the coffee table. He's pulling out all different kinds of medicine, four different gatorade flavors, lots of snacks and I just stare in awe at this man.

"Okay," he says without looking up. "I wasn't sure what was bothering you most, so I kinda just got you one of every allergy thing down there. So we have runny nose, sore throat, itchy/irritated eyes. There's one for congestion, I think that's what allergies are sometimes, right?" He moves the boxes around while talks. "I got you some water. They ran out of the red gatorade, and I know that's your favorite, so I just got you a few other ones in case you still wanted that. I'll get you a red one after dinner. And I know you said you weren't really hungry, so if you're not in the mood for a meal," he clears his throat and I smile down at him, resting my head against the door frame. "I got you some snacks. There's gold fish, some granola bars, a few bags of Chex mix. They had fruit roll ups, and I didn't know when the last time was that you had one, so I got a couple of those."

He finally looks up at me beneath those long lashes and I could melt right here. "What's wrong? You're staring weird."

I shake my head with a small smile on my face, "I just… I'm in love with you."

His cheeks instantly redden. "Well I'm in love with you, too."

I make my way over to him and he spreads his legs a little, giving me space to slide between them. His hands rub soothing circles on my sides and I hum at the soft contact. "Thank you for bringing me this stuff, and for taking care of me. You really didn't-" I stop myself just in time to sneeze into my elbow. I sniffle and continue, "you didn't have to."

Shawn's laugh rumbles against my stomach, where his head had found it's resting spot and my fingers thread leisurely through his thick curls. "I did have to. Can't have you feeling like this the rest of the week."

"You're perfect," I mumble into his hair and his grip on my waist tightens.

"Come on," he pats the back of my bare thighs and looks up at my albeit still red eyes, "let's get you some medicine and lots of fluids."

"Since when did you become a doctor?" I laugh lightly.

"Since I watched all of Grey's."

"Should I call you doctor Mendes?" I mean it as a joke, but he takes it another way.

A smirk plays at his lips and he squeezes my thigh. "We'll save that for another time," he winks and I immediately cover my face.

"You're incorrigible."

"You love me," he presses a kiss to my clothed stomach and I nod despite my better judgement.

"I do. Sometimes, I think a little too much."

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @bbellbagel @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste @dino-16-avocado

Hope you enjoyed! Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #smfsource #submission

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attickit · 4 years

Text

“Top 10″

Tagged by the very lovely @serenililly to do a top 10 KPop song list thingy and let me tell you I did not follow any guideline whatsoever. I take the title with an ocean of salt.

So this "list" is just me messing with myself more than anything. I usually rotate between Day6, BTS, FTIsland, N.Flying and Stray Kids in my phone so this is just giving me an excuse to find other songs that I've stuffed away in my private yt playlist and listen to them again. I've gone down a rabbit hole...

(if you say that you were cheating with choosing songs and having honourable mentions, I'm basically criminal. There's more than a good 50 songs mentioned in this "list". Put me in a jail cell...)

Be forewarned; I talk a lot, so, everything is under the cut.

TL;DR I shoved all the songs that I really like into one post depite being told it is a top 10 song list. (also I've given up tagging anyone in doing this cause idk who to tag *finger guns*)

Eric Nam - Runaway (Honourable mentions: Love Die Young [I know this one's an english song but god is it good])

First off, let's be real. This song was going to get on this list one way or another. I wrote a FLUFF FIC for JUNGKOOK with this song. It made me write fluff for a guy a I don't even necessarily care to have fluff with. It somehow wrecked me as a person and god does it scare me. It's a romance that I want with my entire heart and I wrote it for someone who isn't my bias in anyway. What can that tell you?

ok but the song is one that I go back to about every week. I can't get sick of it. And if you listen to it with the English version right after it, it becomes such a whiplash. Eric knows how to mess with me.

Day6 - 365247 & Emergency (Honourable mention: Deep in love, Hi Hello, Dance Dance, Shoot Me)

Look I try to keep it to one song per artist but the Entropy album was a fcking all kill for me. This album would be on number 1 if this was on a top ten album list instead. (If bts hadn't stolen my heart already at the time, Day6 would have been my ult of all time because these boys are hilarious.)

365247 is such a funky tune and I find myself seeking out this song everytime I'm feeling a little spunky. Feels like one of those sexual tension songs to me for some reason but I love it.

Emergency is a bit of a mess but like in the best way. Just the sounds of blaring sirens and heart monitors just, my god. The way the lyrics were paced to fill the theme in even more was so good. What can I say? Like, it was a really well done song. And I am head over heels for it. (also the fact there is a dance for this song is amusing)

FTIsland - Pray (Honourable mentions: Stay, Hello Hello, Falling Star, Memory, Take Me Now, Paper Plane)

*stares down the Japanese releases* Oh god I love those. It was hard to separate them from the Korean releases because the Japan releases were the ones that got me to FT and eventually, K-Pop in general. But then I also remember that there are songs that have a Korean version. As much as I am more familiar with the Japanese versions, the Korean versions are great too.

The reason why I chose Pray as the top song is I guess just the state that I was when it came out. Like, I felt it through my bones and it kind of never left. So whenever I listen to Pray, I have the visceral feeling that I need to scream at a god. I don't but it just relieves it by the end of the song. (also Rock that I can scream to when I actually want to)

Jonghyun - Before our Spring (Honourable mentions: Take the Dive)

Simply known as the song that broke me and put me back together. It's now the song that reminds me that there's more to live for. I don't think I can listen to this song without at least tearing up a little. I'm sorry Winter Angel and thank you.

N.Flying - The Real (Honourable mentions: Hot Potato, Rooftop, 4242)

THE REVIVAL of my darling boys. God how much I had missed them and the return being one of the stupidest mvs I know (not counting anything from norazo or Psy), it was so perfect. And then the follow up being Hot Potato, just N.Flying had such a great revival that really suited them as a group. I always go back to it whenever I need a smile.

Epik High - Born Hater (Honourable mentions: Lullaby for a Cat, People Scare Me)

This one is the only one with no real reason why I picked it. I just really like it and it had a lot of people contibuting to the song.

The Rose - Baby (Honourable metions: She's in the rain, Red)

Back to my band shennanigans (if you haven't noticed the list being almost half bands). The Rose holds a good place in my heart too. With a voice like Sammy boy's, it's had for me to not have them in the back of my head as I listen to songs on desktop.

AKMU - Time and Fallen Leaves (Honourable mentions: Melted, How People Move, Chocolady, Re-Bye)

I listened to this song A LOT when it came out in 2014. Back when I was still in secondary school going through my depressive teen phase (i'm joking, but am I tho). But really this song was what kept me going and not just find a easy route out. It kinda gave me sense of hope. Cause where else do you fall back when all your friends actually really hated you?

BTS (Well duh) - 소우주 (Mikrokosmos) (Honourable mentions: SPRING MF DAY, Magic Shop, Mono, Anything Jimin has put out solo-wise, Dionysus, DDaeng ect.)

(link goes to the live version of the mma performace in the bangtan bomb)

Every song since the WINGS era has gotten so strong and well done. And it keeps getting better It's been just so hard to figure out which song is the one I'd pick to listen to always.

I was just about to put Spring day as the top but I remembered Mikrokosmos. Idk what it is about Mikrokosmos but it's found a permanent place in my heart for songs that comfort me the most. It inches Spring day in the top spot of fave. I used to have a playlist with all my comfort songs in one but I accidentally deleted it and im too lazy to recompile it tho.

Honourable mentions (Songs out of my heavy rotation)

Orange caramel - Catallena Lim Kim - Rain, Goodbye 20, Awoo Heize - Jenga (ft. Gaeko), Don't Know You Bol4 - Bom, Galaxy IU - BEEP BEEP, Palette Zico, IU - Soulmate Block B - Yesterday, Toy Bastarz - Zero For Conduct, Make it Rain Vixx - Into the Void, The Closer, Shangri-La, Black Out TXT - Poppin Star, Run Away 10cm - Pet, Phonecert Stray Kids - Awkward Silence

And ok I'll stop. I have to stop.

#tags #notes about myself #i mean i guess #look i can give you multiple lists about multiple things #and in those lists i can tell you many things #sometimes i cant shut up

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wkrp · 5 years

Text

Tag meme

*ahem* I was gagged by @queenrogerina (Sophie honey ily even though you can't type literally at all)

Favourite snack?:

Fam,,, fam I literally don't even know,,, I'm so indecisive you can't do this to me,,, but the answer is bbq potato chips. Doesn't matter what brand, I automatically love them all

Favourite place to go on vacation:

Would you believe me if I said I've never been on like,, a proper vacation before??? Because I haven't whoops

What’s a song that makes you dance immediately?

La Vie Boheme from rent,,,,, an absolute fucking banger,,, impossible to not immediately groove when you hear it

Tea or Coffee?:

It depends tbh. Most of the time it's tea but sometimes Ya Boi just really wants an iced coffe, ya know?

Do you play an instrument?:

I wish I did, but no

What’s your favourite type of personality?:

Is not an asshole a valid answer?? Because I honestly don't really care that much

Favourite comedian:

It's a toss up between John Mulaney and like,,,,, the monty python guys,,,, rn it's monty python all the way but I'm hyperfixating like hell atm. If you wanna get more specific and ask my favorite from monty python it's Graham Chapman, but tbh Eric idle and Michael Palin have stolen my heart recently. Edit: shit I got like halfway through this tag meme and totally forgot about how much I love Ryan Stiles on whose line ajhdh,,, I don't even remember my favorite people guys

Gummy candy or chocolate?:

Gummy. I've kinda been liking chocolate less and less the older I get. I mean it's still good but,,, sweet tooth machine broke, I guess

What did you want to be when you grew up as a kid?:

When I was like 5 I wanted to be a forensic scientist,,, and then a little bit after that I wanted to be an astrophysicist,,, and then I wanted to be a forensic scientist again like,,, pretty much all the way up until high school and then I realized I was too dumb for that

What’s your favourite physical feature about yourself?:

Uhhhhhhhh,,,, man,,, my hair ig. I mean not right now because it's being difficult but usually it's my hair

When was the last time you watched a show or movie on a tv?:

See, this one is kinda open to interpretation. If you mean when was the last time a show or movie that was airing ontv then,,,,, it's been a few years. If you mean when was the last time I like,,, popped something in the dvd player or watched netflix on the tv or smth like that then, right now ig

Unpopular opinion?:

Idk how unpopular this is but listen,,,,, sometimes I have stuff I wanna discourse about but y'all need to just like,,, chill,,,,, you don't need to have some sort of argument about literally everything. Also, please, for the love of god learn to enjoy things that might be 'problematic' but acknowledge their flaws. There's no 100% perfect piece of media,,,, just enjoy shit critically it ain't that hard

Are you scared of bugs?:

When they're not in my house, no. When they're in my house,,,,, man I'd literally rather burn my house down then even fucking look at a spider

Cats or dogs?:

Cats!

Are you allergic to any food?:

Not that one aware of, no

Does the description of your star sign match your personality?:

For the most part yeah. I mean I always see stuff abt sagittarius being adventurous which is just,,, nah fam. I mean in theory, yes, but,, I'm so fucking lazy so the idea of doing things is not appealing

Favourite type of accent?:

I don't really have a favorite tbh

Name the first song that comes into your head:

,,,, you won't succeed on broadway from spamalot,,, what can I say? It's a bop

Who is the sexiest famous person to you?:

Christian borle is 👌👌👌 beautiful man I love him. Also Katrina Lenk,,,,,,, she's so pretty it makes me wanna cry

Cake or pie?:

Both, you can't make me decide.

When was the last time you read a full book?:

Longer than I'd like to admit

Favourite junk food:

Fam,,,,, we've been over this I can't decide,,,,, honestly I'll eat literally anything if it looks good and occasionally even if it doesn't look good, but you usually have to pay me for that one

What’s your favourite personality trait?:

None, tbh.. I really don't care

Do you like your height?:

Yeah, I guess

Apples or oranges?:

Apples

Do you like salad?:

If I feel like having a salad, then yeah,,,, but that's not very often

What is a song that has made you cry?:

Lemme just take a look at my sad boy hours spotify playlist and I'll get back to you on that because I can't think of any off the top of my head,,, alright this is gonna seem like a weird choice but I'm gonna go with love, you didn't do right by me from white christmas,,,,, yeah, man what can I say,,,, all I listen to is musicals and I've got questionable taste sometimes

What person inspires you the most?:

Man,,,, man,,, it changes every two seconds but atm I'd say Graham Chapman,,,,,,,,,, I can't even begin to talk about how much I love him

Aaaaaaaand I'm,,,, not gonna tag anyone because I'm very anxious and tbh I don't know a lot of people well enough to feel comfortable tagging them so if you wanna do this then just say I tagged you

#emmett eeps #yoinks that took a long time

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garakshowhole · 5 years

Text

answer 21 questions and tag 21 people you want to know better

i was tagged by @thorodlnsons ! tysm 💕

nicknames: i don’t rly have any but a surprising amount of ppl have indepently called me jemothy

zodiac sign: OK i’m gay so just sun sign doesn’t cut it. leo sun/gemini moon/libra rising

height: liiiike 5 foot 4

hogwarts house: slytherin altho ive never understood that bc if u kno me u kno i’m the least ambitious bitch on this planet

last thing i googled: dry kidneys.....

fave musicians: FAV is jordaan mason but i listen to so much different music. honourable mentions r perfume genius, ajj, hop along, days n daze, mitski, against me! + xiu xiu

song stuck in your head: lily the pink

following: 215

followers: 25 on this blog sgdhfhsf im baby! abt 1k on my main tho

do you get asks: only when i commit the cardinal sin of calling spock a top

amount of sleep: i’m a lazy little bitch... usually abt 10 hours tbh

lucky number: 8! also 825

what are you wearing: flowery trousers from h&m and a gary numan tour shirt from my dads wardrobe circa. 1997

dream job: idk.... i’ve been thinking abt training as a florist or park ranger a lot i kinda want an artistic career tho. we’ll see!

dream trip: i’d rly like to go to norway + iceland

instruments: i play a bit of everything! my main instrument is the flute which i’ve played since i was 10 but i also play the drums mandolin + keyboard pretty well and a bit of banjo + guitar

languages: english obviously + i speak french pretty competently but only when i’m in france

favorite songs: this kills me... organs for oceans by jordaan mason and the horse museum, hounds of love by kate bush, kiss off by violent femmes, i luv the valley OH! by xiu xiu, hood by perfume genius + no eyes by baths

random fact: i’m like fully trained as a falconer i was essentially an apprentice for 3 years and i rly want to get my own bird someday

aesthetic: like personally as in clothes and stuff i just look unapologetically messy like things clash get over it, i rly appreciate r bright primary colours and like bizarre garish shit. online i LOVE old web + lovecore aesthetics

i had a lot of fun doing this but i very much do

not have 21 ppl to tag so i’m gonna tag: @wolfhalls @truerowdyvoid @scifixation @gayspockk + @branwyn-says and call it a day! no pressure to do it if u don’t want to tho ☺️

#tysm i love doing things like this! i talk a load of shit but i have fun doing it and thats all that matters

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