pen twirling

aesthetics for the signs

aries: fairy lights, ripped fishnets, disco balls, neon signs, movie tickets, concerts, roller blading rinks, train tickets, listening to a good song for the first time, watching scary movies with friends, screaming until you lose your voice.

taurus: flushed cheeks, playing in the snow, staying up all night to talk to someone you like, caring for someone, hugs, travelling, the sound of a pen scratching against paper, twirling around in a pretty dress.

gemini: finishing a paper ten minutes before its due, sending a risky text, ripped skinny jeans, storm clouds, standing in the rain, screaming into your pillow, making out with someone for hours, blasting your music.

cancer: the colour blue, grocery shopping, holding hands, love confessions, cherry blossoms, sexual tension, making bad decisions, motorcycles, coffee shops, cotton candy, spicy food, sweet talking your way out of things.

leo: long eyelashes, dimples, the feeling of freedom, dancing without a care in the world, buying clothes without looking at the price, lattes, face masks, sharp eyeliner, waterfalls, smirking, making people jealous, blankets fresh out of the dryer.

virgo: campfires, stargazing, old books, rainy days, modern buildings, a steamed up mirror, the rooftop of a building, breathless laughter, the glow of your phone at night, dipping your feet into a swimming pool, a shy kiss on the cheek, glittery eyeshadow.

libra: having someone play with your hair, flirty texts, the colour pink, red roses, high heels, long hair blowing in the wind, hands on your thighs, scented candles, being complimented, kissing someone you like for the first time.

scorpio: spending all your money on concert tickets, bruised lips, getting drunk for the first time, pressed flowers, glitter, polaroids, red lipstick, laughing at 2am, whispering secrets, piercings, making eye contact with someone you like.

sagittarius: an adrenaline rush, ignoring texts, knee high socks, smashing a window, staying out until 5am, freckles, stickers, the colour yellow, cursive writing, museums, laughing at silly jokes, discussing conspiracy theories.

capricorn: city skylines, chocolate, red wine, being pampered, lace bras, silk robes, bubble baths, smelling flowers, bubblegum, piano music, rose petals on silk sheets, expensive perfume, driving down an empty highway at 3am.

aquarius: coloured hair, hot chocolate, a field of flowers, taking long showers, smiling until your cheeks hurt, drinking with friends, the sound of a movie quietly playing in the background as you fall asleep.

pisces: hickeys, ripped denim jackets, bumble bees, rain gently pattering against your window as you try to fall asleep, fluffy clouds, receipts, sunsets, biting your lips, messy eyeliner, discovering new places, scented candles.

Baby girl

CEO!Ash - This is pure fucking filth alright

Words: 6.1k

“Miss y/n, what’s your input on this?”

You heard your colleague’s voice in the background. But you didn’t react to it. You were focused on something else. Rather someone else. Your boss, that was sitting on the other end of the table, twisting and twirling a pen between his long, slender fingers. He was completely staring at you, head cocked to one side in a rather smug attitude. He was young, not much older than you. Only by a year or two. It always amazed you how successful he was for his age, but with that charm - although he most of the time radiated arrogance… and that smile, his success did not surprise you.

You’d lie if you said you weren’t attracted to him. Hell, that man could have his way with you without you even questioning it, you wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, you wanted it. You wanted him to fuck you, and by judging the look he was giving you, you understood he knew that, too. What made your chest rise and your heartbeat increase, was the fact that he tugged on the collar of his shirt. Then, he gazed up at you again, and the look he was shooting you this time made you weak. He wanted it, too.

“Miss?” your colleague repeated.

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Aesthetics For The Signs

aries: fairy lights, ripped fishnets, disco balls, neon signs, movie tickets, concerts, roller blading rinks, train tickets, listening to a good song for the first time, watching scary movies with friends, screaming until you lose your voice.

taurus: flushed cheeks, playing in the snow, staying up all night to talk to someone you like, caring for someone, hugs, travelling, the sound of a pen scratching against paper, twirling around in a pretty dress.

gemini: finishing a paper ten minutes before its due, sending a risky text, ripped skinny jeans, storm clouds, standing in the rain, screaming into your pillow, making out with someone for hours, blasting your music.

Keep reading

Things that remind me of the houses

Gryffindor is being emotionally driven. It is the wild grin on your face as you charge head on into a wave. It is dipping your fingers into wax just after blowing out the flame. Gryffindor is bonfires and sparklers at the end of summer; it is windswept hair and running around in the rain with friends. Gryffindor is good YA novels, the gems hidden in the back shelves. Gryffindor is brightly colored lipstick and kisses that feel like electricity, like passion, like heat. It is belting “Don’t Stop Believin” at the top of your goddamned lungs. Gryffindor is comic books. It is power outages. It is talking back to people in positions of authority because they’re wrong. Gryffindor is racing your friend for shotgun. Gryffindor is earrings that swing when you turn your head. Gryffindor is sailing under a great blue sky; it is fireworks and ginger beer. Gryffindor is summer. Gryffindor is ripped jeans and flannels. Gryffindor is knowing that failure to stand strong all the time doesn’t make you weak. Gryffindor is jumping off a bridge into the ocean with your friends. It is the scream that gets punched out of your lungs on rollercoasters. Gryffindor is hot chocolate and sweatpants; it is naps during the day. Gryffindor is New York City. Gryffindor is hard cider and caramel apples. Gryffindor is stopping mid-sentence to point out a dog across the street. Gryffindor is getting an apartment with your friends after college. Gryffindor is Steve Rogers. Gryffindor is praying that your soda won’t explode. Gryffindor is sweaty ponytails and the shaky feeling in your muscles after a good workout. Gryffindor is road trips with your best friends. Gryffindor is turning your friends into family. Gryffindor is long summer days and even longer summer nights; it is feeling like nighttime can’t stop you. Gryffindor is life. Gryffindor is love. Gryffindor is friendship. Gryffindor is freedom.

Hufflepuff is being carefree of spirit and caring of heart. Hufflepuff is comforting a friend by singing a song you both love until they’re calm enough to sing along. Hufflepuff is blasting the air conditioner so it’s cold enough to sleep under a quilt in the summer. Hufflepuff is flower crowns. Hufflepuff is activism. Hufflepuff is sticking your feet under your friend’s legs when they’re cold. Hufflepuff is cotton candy and sunsets at the fair. Hufflepuff is kissing in the rain. Hufflepuff is the feeling of helplessness that comes from not having enough power to right the world’s wrongs. Hufflepuff is hammocks. It is tattered friendship bracelets. It is getting flour on your face while baking. Hufflepuff is big sweaters and leggings; Hufflepuff is side braids. Hufflepuff is the storm that breaks the heatwave; it is running around the house to shut all of the windows and then collapsing on the floor giggling. Hufflepuff is the Aunt Friend, for when the mom friend needs a mom friend. Hufflepuff is prom night with a group of friends. Hufflepuff is strawberry frosted donuts with rainbow sprinkles. Hufflepuff is Tuscany. It is sunlight reflected in the morning dew. It is the smell of smoke on a cold winter day. Hufflepuff is understanding the value of a child’s mind. Hufflepuff is the first day of spring. It is stopping to smell the flowers. It is warmed milk with spices and vanilla. Hufflepuff is the books from your childhood that you’ve read to shreds; it is the movies you can quote with ease. Hufflepuff is brightly colored eyeliner. Hufflepuff is sunrise over the mountains. Hufflepuff is festivals in the summer with maxi skirts and fresh-picked flowers in your hair. Hufflepuff is sitting under a tree with your friends. Hufflepuff is weighing yourself down with worries to lighten someone else’s load. Hufflepuff is digging in the dirt with your hands to find the cool earth underneath. Hufflepuff is leaving cute messages on your friend’s phone when you’re in different time zones. Hufflepuff is compassion. Hufflepuff is empathy. Hufflepuff is laughter. Hufflepuff is freedom.

Ravenclaw is asking why and using the answer. Ravenclaw is reading at night with a flashlight under the covers. Ravenclaw is lightning. Ravenclaw is fuzzy socks. Ravenclaw is lying on your back with a group of friends and looking at the stars. Ravenclaw is forgetting to eat and sleep because you’re in research-mode. Ravenclaw is French-press coffee. Ravenclaw is owning more books than you could read in a lifetime. It is quick messy buns with pencils stuck through them; it is sweatshirts and yoga pants. Ravenclaw is curling up on a window seat with a book as the snow falls outside. Ravenclaw is people-watching. It is old book smell. It is watches with interesting faces and the full moon through the trees. Ravenclaw is bronze eyeshadow. It is Paris. It is hard caramel. Ravenclaw is staying up until sunrise talking about the universe. It is lying on the floor talking to your significant other about anything and everything and then rolling over and kissing them. Ravenclaw is packing your books first to make sure you’ll have room. It is running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. It is beanbag chairs in the library. It is spending time with people of older generations and trying to absorb all of the wisdom they have to offer. Ravenclaw is the best answers in Cards Against Humanity. Ravenclaw is twirling a pen through your fingers as you think. Ravenclaw is the feeling of freedom on a windy day. Ravenclaw is ornate bookmarks; Ravenclaw is antiques. Ravenclaw is well-disguised sass. Ravenclaw is asking the perfect question to send the class off on an hour-long tangent. Ravenclaw is flirting in other languages. Ravenclaw is doing personal research instead of homework. Ravenclaw is knowing that imagination outstrips intelligence. Ravenclaw is curiosity. Ravenclaw is wit. Ravenclaw is passion. Ravenclaw is truth.

Slytherin is knowing that there are still some things more important than success. Slytherin is being asked “what do you want to be when you grow up” and answering with the same thing you’ve been saying since you were six. Slytherin is the feeling of triumph when your hard work pays off. Slytherin is blazers and sleek ponytails, but it is also team sweatshirts and messy braids. Slytherin is dark chocolate. Slytherin is fog settling in the valley. Slytherin is the feeling of meeting your idol and having them live up to every expectation. Slytherin is the Mom Friend™. Slytherin is surviving on coffee. It is a river so clear you can see the bottom if you’re still for long enough. Slytherin is London. Slytherin is classic literature. Slytherin is knowing that respect is earned. It is reminding yourself that it’s okay to forget about the future and live in the moment. Slytherin is being the designated driver. Slytherin is tattoos is discrete places. Slytherin is “The Bullpen” by Dessa. It is whispering “can I kiss you” before leaning in. Slytherin is chilled fingers wrapped around hot drinks on a crisp fall morning. Slytherin is perfectly winged eyeliner; Slytherin is good posture and a firm handshake. It is the smile for people you don’t like all that much. It is rings. It is armchairs in the back corner of coffee shops. It is the power trip of walking down a hallway in heels. Slytherin is dressing nice to go nowhere. Slytherin is freshly brewed tea in a china set. It is not getting out of your pajamas on the weekends. It is forgive but don’t forget. Slytherin is knowing that intelligence is not all that it’s cracked up to be; it’s knowing that the key is the will to do something with your life. Slytherin is the euphoria of ballet. Slytherin is hunting down anyone who has ever hurt the ones you care about. It is staying up until 4 am and sleeping until noon. It is wing-back armchairs to curl up in. Slytherin is taking study breaks to go out and stand in the rain, letting it clear your mind. Slytherin is drive. Slytherin is protectiveness. Slytherin is hard work. Slytherin is self-confidence.

To Realise

A mini celebration for 2000 followers! Thanks Everyone!!!!

A Soulmate AU where they only realise they are Soulmates when they say/read/hear each other’s names out loud followed by an immediate overflowing of emotion sparking inside of them. Instant realisation.


-       He was already running late. This was not the first impression he wanted to give to everyone! He was in University! He was intelligent! He knew how to set a simple alarm!

-       … in theory yes, in practise… not so much… hence the lateness…

-       It also didn’t help that he couldn’t remember which lecture theatre he was meant to be in- which meant he had to stop and scan for his name at each door on the floor… four down three to go…

-       Kim Yoosung… Kim Yoosung… Kim… nope not that room!

-       When he got to the final room (because of course it had to be the final room) he managed to find his name… but his eyes were mysteriously drawn to another name, his mouth wrapping itself around the syllables before he knew what he was doing…

-       “M… MC?”

-       His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest, his knees went wobbly and his head felt light and fuzzy, yet so damn clear at the same time. Yoosung stilled himself, bracing his arms against the doorframe to insure he wouldn’t fall flat on his face.

-       What was happening to him?

-       He had never felt this way before- was he coming down with something? He touched the back of his hand against his forehead and sure enough he was warm and sweaty.

-       Though, granted, it could have been because he had been running for the last fifteen minutes and trying not to burst out crying because he was going to be late- not because he was sick and dying.

-       His stomach fluttered and his mouth ran dry… no, he must be getting sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that pizza that was left over… from three days ago. He really needed to start cooking more.

-       Yoosung clamped his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe deeply, he could get through this. It was only one hour. He could do this.

-       Opening the door, the newly blonde haired student waltzed into the theatre only to have the entire room turn to face him.

-       Great. He must have been later than he thought he was.

-       Only to have them all shrug and continue on with their conversations.

-       Yoosung turned to his left to where their professor was meant to be standing, only to see it empty- the teacher was late? He wasn’t the last one to class? Finally! He managed to catch a break!

-       Running a hand through his sweat soaked hair and laughing as he wiped his palm on his jeans, Yoosung shook his head at how stupid he was to worry so much… besides, chiding himself made it easier to forget the uneasy feeling coursing through his veins.

-       It wasn’t a bad sensation, just… different. Good. Like little bubbles of pure emotion streaming through his blood. Why he felt happy and excited and nervous all at the same time…  he didn’t know. Weirdest case of food poisoning he ever had that was for sure-

-       He began to scan the rows of seats for the easiest spot to slip into and found one close to the middle just on the aisle without anyone sitting in between him and the girl on the other side, the really pretty girl laughing with her friends…

-       Yoosung pressed his blunt nails into the flesh of his palm to wake himself up from his unintentional staring. He took in a bolstering breath and psyched himself up just so he could sit down, it’s not like the cute girl had noticed him or his existence or anything. It would be fine.

-       Edging into the chair and adjusting the fold up side table he began to unpack his books and pens, only for his latest guide for LOLOL to slip out from between his textbooks.

-       The girl next to him caught sight of the bright colours from the side of her eye and turned around, her eyes focused on the cover of the magazine before they shot up to look him in the eye.

-       She was stunning. And she looked disgusted with him.

-       “Tsk, another one of those computer geeks who do nothing but sit in their dark little apartments and fall in love with fictional characters,” she sneered as her friends cackled behind her… clearly none of them had grown up any since graduating from high school. Yoosung sighed and was about to shyly excuse himself when-

-       Yeah, that’s right! We sit in our apartments and fall in love with fictional characters who still have far more depth and strength of character in one pixel than you could ever have in your entire being… Girl- did you regress into your 7th grade form over the holidays after graduating- it’s cool if you did, I’d like to study you for my psychology lab- I’ll entitle it, ‘Dumb bitch, scared and out of her league, forgets how to act like a decent human being.’ Know what? Just leave- you’re not appreciated here- we wouldn’t want to infect you with our geekiness.”

-       Yoosung turned around to see a girl with big earphones and an even bigger hoodie sitting forward giving the first (not so cute anymore) girl the most menacing glare he had ever seen, bar the ones his mother wielded.

-       The group of girls huffed and tried to retort under their breaths before packing up and moving rows.

-       Headphones girl clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she made up her mind; she slung her cross-body bag over her shoulder as she clambered over the seats to sit next to Yoosung. The girl slightly winded from her almost-argument and her repositioning, offered the blonde boy a crooked grin- one he returned without hesitation.

-       “So… LOLOL boy- you gonna let me look at that guide? I was meaning to pick one up today after class but since you have one right here…” she eluded as she quirked one eyebrow up to test if he caught her drift. He did. He handed her the guide.

-       “H-hey… thanks for before… I didn’t know what I should say, if I should say anything at all-”

“No sweat LOLOL boy-”

“Hahah are you going to call me that forever?” he asked, laughing as he rubbed the back of his neck.

-       The girl eyed him critically from behind the pages of the guide.

“Pretty much, yes.”

Yoosung chuckled as he twirled his pen through the tips of his fingers, happy to feel the earlier wash of illness and emotion wane into nothing but a sense of peace and calm.

“Well, can I at least have a name to call you? Butt-Kicking Classmate is kind of a mouthful.”

“And yet so apt-”

“Yes I understand this but-”

-       “MC. My name is MC.”

The waning was nothing but the calm before the storm, the eye of the tornado- and Yoosung was the poor cow stuck up 1000 feet in the air and she… she was the tornado. The boy sat back as he burnt up, his cheeks flaring as he bit his lip to not shout out from the sheer heat that he endured. Why did this happen every time he heard her name? Or said her name? Or even thought of her name? It was infuriating!

“What should I call you if not LOL-”

“Yoosung. Kim… Kim Yoosung.”

-       He had heard a soft gasp from behind the pages of the guide and he didn’t miss the way her hands trembled, or how wide her eyes had become. Slowly but steadily, MC drew the magazine down past her chin until her entire face was visible to him… that fluttering in his stomach, that fuzzy but clear feeling- it all came rushing back one hundred-fold.

-       “Yoosung… Kim… you say?” she asked, her once confident voice all but whispered.

-       He had never heard his name sound so beautiful.

-       “Yes, Yoosung Kim…” he confirmed with the smallest of nods of his head, watching as she swallowed some saliva and captivated in the way her throat moved as she did so. He was entranced by the way her mouth seemed to want to do a thousand different things, smile, talk, laugh, scream… so damn expressive.

-       MC clicked her tongue once more as she was wont to do when she made an important decision and put the guide back down on his desk before leaning forward, completely invading his personal space. Not that he was complaining. In fact… she could invade it more. It didn’t seem close enough.

-       “Yoosung Kim… I’ve been looking for you, for a long time,” she smiled, her warm hand resting atop his, a flash of electricity passing through their touch.

“You have? Why? I’m just me, little old Yoosung…”

-       She threw her head back and laughed and to him it sounded like bells chiming.

-       “Yes, you are little old Yoosung, but from today - you are my little old Yoosung…” she pointed out as her pointer finger booped him firmly on the tip of his nose.

“Well if I’m yours, th-then you’re mine!” he answered his chest puffing out slightly- why had he said that? When did he become so damn brazen? Was he going crazy?

“Hahaha, duh! If you’re my Soulmate then I’m your Soulmate- so of course I’m yours!”

“….. Soul… soul what?”

-       His parents had never told him anything about Soulmates, didn’t prepare him for what was to come. He was hit by a truck and completely floored.

-       The truck was named MC. He didn’t want to get up.

-       “Care to explain?”

-       MC stared at him completely dumbfounded, her mouth agape and her eyes even wider than before. She inhaled and nodded, resigning herself to the fact that the love of her life was completely innocent and that she did indeed have to teach him everything.

-       It was going to be so much fun.

-       “You see when a man and a woman love each other very much-”

“MC I KNOW ABOUT SEX I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT SOULMATES!” he hissed loud enough for the two rows surrounding them to snigger at.

“Sex? Who said anything about sex? Geez, I say soulmate and you’re already trying to get into my pants-”

“MC!” he whined, his amethyst eyes large and pleading. Of course, she acquiesced.

-       “Forever Yoosung. It means that you and me, until death do us part, no matter what… it’s me and you.”

-       He took a moment to process this, that he had literally no choice in who he fell in love with- that fate intervened and made sure that he had someone to love and someone to love him in return for the rest of his life… it was just so much to take in…

-       MC entwined her fingers with his when she noticed what she assumed was struggle painted on his face. This, he was going to have this, forever.

-       It didn’t matter that he had just met the girl, that he knew nothing about her- his body knew before he did.
He already loved her.

-       He smiled and squeezed her hand back.

-       “Okay… I think I’m okay with that.”


-       His first motion picture…

-       He was beside himself. He couldn’t believe that his agent had managed to get him this part! It was meant for a more well-known leading man and an unknown actress but they had fallen in love with how well he had read for the part and how well his headshots looked against the actress’s.  

-       He hadn’t been told who they had chosen, it wasn’t like it really mattered at the end of the day- the girl was an unknown, fresh faced and new in the show business role. She had never acted a day in her life but the casting director had seen her on the street and she had just the aesthetic he was after- it was just pure dumb luck that she was natural at acting.

-       He had planned to talk to her at the read through but she had lost her voice and couldn’t attend… it wasn’t until they were both there for the first physical run through of the scenes that they actually met…

-       “Oh hi! You must be-”

“Yeah! You’re the actress playing MC right?-”

-       He didn’t get to finish his sentence, nor did she.

-       She was whisked off to fit some costumes and he… he couldn’t breathe.

-       The moment he said MC, his lips started to tingle and an odd buzzing sound rang in his ears. His cheeks felt flushed and his heart beat raced. He couldn’t understand… he had said that name more than a thousand times whilst reading the script, not once did he ever feel that way. It must have been her. Seeing her and her face must have just solidified his character’s feelings inside him of course. That must be what it was.

-       When she finally returned and they shook hands he could have sworn that he felt his own heartbeat beating in time with hers, palm to palm, one solid beat.

-       Damn it he needed to focus and not get too lost into the character… his character was the love-sick fool not him! He was a professional! He had only met this girl! He-he

-       … she had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life.

-       FOCUS!

-       He had to thank whatever it was running through his system because he had never felt more “on” than at that moment. Every line he delivered to her felt authentic and organic, like he truly meant it. Looking around it was obvious that everyone else on set agreed, absolutely transfixed on the couple centre stage.

-       He could feel every word she was saying to him like it was scripture; that every word of love and devotion that she spoke had the power to let him walk on air… and god he really wanted to try.

-       …

-       He must have been a better actor than even he gave himself credit for, making himself believe that he was already half in love with the woman in front of him…

-       He didn’t even want to stop rehearsing until the Director had called out three times for them to finish up, he was just a ball of energy and wanted nothing more than to release that through this amazing acting he and this actress were performing, he didn’t want to lose momentum.

-       He didn’t want to lose what he was feeling…

-       “H-Hey! MC! Did you want to go and get some lunch with me?” he had asked before realising that he had called her by her character’s name. He felt the blood flood his cheeks as he forced himself not to slap himself or just die from embarrassment. He couldn’t be that far gone into this role to already be thinking of her as her character… this is how idiots fall in love with co-stars… “I’m so sorry, habit, I didn’t mean to call you MC-”

“And why not? It’s my name too,” she smiled as she rested her hand on his bicep, the muscle there twitching instinctively under her touch.

-       Shit.

-       Zen was no fool. He knew what this meant. He knew, deep down, that he wasn’t that good of an actor to fool himself- damn it- he was already half in love.

-       The only half evidently. She seemed completely unaffected… unless… had she said his name yet? No, she hadn’t. Only his character’s name!

-       “How silly of me! All this time I’ve never introduced myself properly! Hello MC, my name is Zen, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he beamed offering his hand out to her.  

-       Please

-       She smiled and took his hand and laughed as he flipped it over to kiss the back of hers.

-       “Oh! Hahah- wow! Um… yes, yes it’s lovely to meet you too Zen… Zen.”

-       He watched in rapt fascination as her fingers curled around his almost painfully, how her eyes widened and how her jaw fell and closed but fell back down- as if she were trying to desperately find the words… or simply remember how to talk.

-       “So… it’s true what they say…” he trailed off as he drew her closer with a simple tug of her hand still within his, “About when you meet your other half…”

Swallowing deeply and finally blinking her burning eyes MC shook her head and took a step back, though, she did not withdraw her hand.
“What do they say?” she asked her voice trembling as much as her body was.

“That when you finally say your Soulmate’s name- nothing else in the world sounds as beautiful. That nothing else tastes as nice as the name of your Soulmate on your tongue. That the mere thought of their name is enough to bring tears to your eyes…”

-       She stared at him completely astonished by the ardent proclamations of this- stranger-

-       “No one says that,” she whispered as she licked her lips subconsciously her eyes fixated on his, content on watching him worry at the plump flesh.

Not out loud…”

“They should… So- um… lunch?” she asked finally pulling away and bringing her hand to her chest, her other hand cradling it almost tenderly, her fingers tracing the still- warm parts of her skin that he had held.

-       They talked about anything that came to mind, their pasts, their dreams, their favourite food and their mutual aversion to cats. “A cat scratched my face when I was three and although I think they’re beautiful, I just… I just can’t.”

-       Soulmates were made to be a perfect fit after all…  

-       Once they got back on set the tension between the two was so thick it was practically humming- everyone could see that something had happened over lunch.

-       During a pivotal scene, where they were about to finally separate ways forever and part with a kiss…  

-       MC was looking at Zen, tears brimming in her eyes –geez what a talent- merely four lines away from their kiss and-

-       … and she dropped her script and crossed the stage to kiss him. Completely unscripted. Completely inappropriate.

-       It was perfect.

-       “-But Director, they’re not meant to kiss yet-”

“Shhh… she’s absolutely right! The character wouldn’t be able to wait, she wouldn’t want to waste a moment with talk when these two people are all about action! Have the scriptwriters add it right away-”

-       Zen smirked as they continued to share their first kiss with more than fifty random people around them. He didn’t care, the Director was right. They didn’t want to waste another moment- and suddenly- Zen didn’t mind being one of those idiot actors who fell in love with his co-star.

-       “Okay guys we get the point, we should probably move on… guys?… guys?!”


-       It wasn’t particularly easy being kicked out by your Uncle and Aunt… she didn’t have anyone… and she didn’t want to touch what little was left of her inheritance from her parents so- she figured it would be better if she found a part time job.

-       That way her mind would be occupied at all times and she could indeed earn some money.

-       Besides… working with coffee wasn’t a bad thing. Being a barista wasn’t a bad thing, even if it did mean she was practically drooling at every order she made, she figured there would be worse cons to a job… like being a slave to a tyrant who overworked you and never appreciated you- she shuddered. She never wanted to end up like that!

-       It was a particularly busy day being the first weeks of winter, everyone would run in just wanting a cup of something warm to hold to help them heat up against the chill in the air, the poor brunette was already run off her feet. She was barely even looking at the customers in the eyes as she pushed their orders across the counter.

-       Wiping the sweat off her brow with the back of her arm, Jaehee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Soon. Her own break would be soon. Just the next order to do and she would be free for 30 glorious minutes.

-       Pulling the last ticket off the machine so she could read her colleague’s sloppy writing a little easier, she memorised the order and proceeded to make it perfectly. Pouring it out into the large cup Jaehee took the receipt again to make sure she got the customer’s name right- MC…

-       She nearly spilt the drink all over herself.

-       That name. She’d seen it a thousand times before. Written it a thousand times before.

-       But this time- this person’s name… it made her heart skip a beat. It made her heart feel full and happier than it had for the longest time. It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. It made her think of a home, a real one with her and this MC.

-       All from a name.

-       Jaehee finished writing the name down on the cup neatly and carefully put the pen down. She licked her lips and inhaled and called out in a voice she hoped didn’t shake too much, “MC?!”

-       “Oh here!?”

-       Jaehee looked up to see an angel in a trench coat and beanie. Her skin kissed with cold, nose and cheeks rosy and eyes bright. Such beauty right in front of her.

“Um… may I please have my order um… Jae-Jaehee?”

-       The two women looked at each other from either side of the counter, the noise and hustle and bustle of the small coffee shop completely going unnoticed by them.

-       Jaehee pushed the cup to the middle of the bench only to be met in the middle by MC’s hand, her gloved fingers wrapping themselves around her quivering digits.

-       “I… this is…” she stammered unable to look away from the other woman’s eyes, her own honeyed irises large with disbelief.

-       She couldn’t be that lucky… to meet them… to meet her so early in life…

-       “It is,” MC answered her pink cheeks turning red as her lips curled into a stunning smile.

-       “B-but I don’t believe in-”

“I’m standing right here.”

“Nothing good ever happens to me-”

“Right in front of you.”

“I have a break now-”

“Let’s have a coffee.”

-       For the first time since she started working there, Jaehee took her break front of house… with a customer no less… and no one batted an eye when 30 minutes turned to an hour. Then an hour into an hour and a half- the girl had never smiled like she did right then; who were they to take that away from her?

-       They did however yell at her when she accidentally kept writing and calling out MC’s name for every order for the next day.


-       Soulmates? Preposterous. His father had spent his entire adult life looking for his soulmate, convinced that every pretty woman who batted their eyelashes at him and feigned to feel a strong connection to him (his money) was the one. This obsession with finding his Soulmate leading their family to shame and their company to ruin.

-       Well. Not. Him.

-       He didn’t believe in such nonsense. Not once did he find a woman worth spending time with let alone believing them capable to be the other perfect half of your soul. That would be the day.

-       All throughout high school he had one vapid girl after another clawing at him to say their name, hoping that he would feel the twinge in his heart and for butterflies to zoom out of his butt or some ridiculous notion like that. By the first month of school he refused to call any girl by their name and insisted on labelling everyone “Hey you there” or “Female student in front of me.”  

-       By the time he entered university, word had gotten out that Jumin Han just hated the idea of anyone being in love- because who would so vehemently refuse to even try to find their Soulmate? Who would look down on others just for trying to find a little piece of happiness? He was just an angry, lonely man.

-       Not that they were entirely wrong on that assessment… but not entirely right either.

-       Though, he didn’t let something like public opinion of him falter his course or his ideas- Jumin never thought much of other people’s talking of subjects they had no idea about. He took great pleasure it picking apart their arguments and making them sound like fools.

-       Probably why he made such an excellent debater, Captain of the team in fact.

-       In his final year of University, they were finally pitted against their rival school; not once in all the years he had been on the team had he had the chance to face off with the national champions- he was always called off to sit in with his father’s meetings or off sick; but not this time. This time he would meet them, crush them and reclaim the title for his school.

-       He had tried every avenue to find out what they could about their new Captain but everyone was on lockdown, no one would talk and all means of electronically hacking their systems to find out who they were, were completely barred. He didn’t want to cheat, it would sully his victory- no he just wanted to be prepared. Know their history, their grades and whatnot- let it never be said that Jumin Han didn’t do his homework.

-       The day of the debate arrived and sure enough familiar faces lined the opposite team- except one. A pretty girl he supposed, hardly what he would call imposing with her sweet smile and her intermittent waves to the crowd in front of them. Hardly Captain material, he’d be surprised if she was first chair… but wait- what was she doing sitting in the Captain’s chair?

-       Good Lord.

-       This was going to be too easy.

-       Jumin barely heard the announcer listing off his teammates but he paused when he heard her name. It cut through him like a hot knife through butter, seared onto his brain.

-       MC.

-       He felt nauseous, a cold sweat forming on his upper lip as his steel grey eyes raked over her smaller form.

-       She looked just as shaken as he did; her hands ringing together ripping the tissues trapped between her fingers.

-       He thought he was going to faint- what was this feeling? He mouthed her name and the feeling of illness slipped away only to be replaced with a wash of warmth? A silly tingling in his blood that seemed to be singing her name in his ears. His mouth was dry and his throat on fire, his palms lined with a sheen of sweat and his heart beating in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t understand.

-       He watched as MC calmed herself all the while keeping her gaze focused on him, her cheeking burning up the longer she stared. She ran her tongue along her lower lip and he had never been so charmed by a muscle in his life.

-       Jumin she mouthed, maybe to him, maybe to herself- he didn’t know- what he did notice however was the way her hand clutched at her blazer just above where her heart would be. She didn’t look like she was in pain but she wasn’t exactly the same grinning woman he had seen moments earlier.

-       Indeed, it seemed that Jumin could barely tear his eyes off her, he couldn’t pay attention to his teammates, he couldn’t take notes- he could only focus on her. Just how far had he fallen? Over hearing a name and seeing a pretty face? Get it together Jumin!

-       Except he couldn’t. Every time he tried to rebut an argument he would instinctively look back at the opposite team and his eyes locked onto hers and he’d be lost. Each time he’d make any headway with his points he’d want to say her name instead, and of course, everything came out all tongue tied.

-       Thankfully for him, her performance wasn’t much better, she was a blushing mess but still- a coherent blushing mess.

-       Jumin’s university went home empty handed that year after all.

-       But not Jumin, not this time.

-       He wouldn’t lose twice in one day.

-       “Hello there, good performance today.”

“You too.”

“I’m Jumin Han-”

“I know. I’m MC-”

“I heard, yes.”

-       Her teammates were calling for her to hurry up and get on the bus and she was about to call back to them but was cut off by the suddenly confident opposing Captain, “Please go on ahead- I will take MC home.” They looked at her and she in turn looked up to him and shook her head at his cavalier and brash assumption. He was just lucky it was the correct one.

“It’s fine guys, you heard what Jumin said- he’s going to take me home.”

-       The silence in the auditorium was deafening. Jumin never spoke a girl’s first name and he certainly never let someone who just met him call him by his first name… unless…

-       Jumin fiddled with the cufflinks in his sleeves trying to buy time before he had to speak again. MC picked at imaginary lint at her skirt in hopes that the man would continue his initiative.

-       “I… I don’t know how any of this works… in fact until about an hour ago I was certain it was all a farce,” he admitted his eyes firmly fastened on her right shoulder, “but if… if it’s really what it seems like is it- what it feels like it is- I would like the chance to understand it all. Understand everything about you.”

-       MC smiled, even if she wasn’t his Soulmate, after that heartfelt speech, she would have bribed the stars themselves to realign just so she could be.

“I don’t know how this works either- my mother told me it might happen one day, to just pray it would just happen before I got married to someone else who I thought was my Soulmate… is it… I mean… you felt it too? When you heard my name?” she questioned her eyebrows arching up as high as they would go. “The pull? The need to keep saying my name over and over again? Tell me it just wasn’t me.”

-       Jumin’s lips quirked to the side in an amused smirk, this girl was adorable. She could have asked to have his heart out on a platter and he’d have freely offered it, but all she required was the confirmation of his budding feelings from him.

-       Just too easy.

-       “I did. I feel it now. I have no choice but to believe in all this-”

“Prove it.”


“Scream my name out into the audience, let everyone hear it! Let everyone hear the name on the tip of your tongue, the name that your heart beats to now!” she goaded him, an excited grin on her face.

-       Jumin stared at her in shock- again another easy request… he didn’t care what people thought of him after all. Shrugging nonchalantly Jumin opened his mouth to swallow a gulp of air more than ready to scream out her name-

-       Only to have two delicate hands cover his mouth and a giggle that was not his own reverberating on his chest.

“Damn it! I didn’t think you’d actually do it! You’re crazy! I believe it, I believe you!” she guffawed, burying her face against him, her body heat and laughter seeping into him and offering a warmth that he had never felt before.

-       He liked it.

-       He wanted more.

-       “So… perhaps it wouldn’t be out of line for me to ask you out to dinner?” he asked looking down at the crown of her head.

“O-Of course not!”


-       The tentative slip of her hand in his was answer enough for him.


-       He was a good, diligent worker and that was all that mattered to the Agency.

-       He barely ate, he barely slept, barely did anything but exist and work.

-       The perfect agent.

-       Then they brought her in.

-       606.

-       Quiet and withdrawn but brilliant. She could code almost as well as he did and she could hack into places faster and without a trace better than him. She slept less than him. Ate less than him. Was less than him.

-       She wasn’t going to survive, she would burn out and become useless to the Agency and she would have to be disposed of.

-       … and even as far as he had come, as low as he had gone… that didn’t sit right with him. He chose this life, but someone that hollow did not. Someone that broken had been torn away from a good life, a happy life.

-       He imagined her having younger siblings who missed her, parents who searched the streets with her picture in hand begging for information, friends who no longer spoke to each other because the memory of her haunted them.

-       He wasn’t going to let the agency steal a life that didn’t belong to them.

-       It all started with innocent emails; just him asking how she was, sending her funny jokes or pictures, bantering and bitching about work in such a way that no one would be able to crack down on them for… make her smile. Make her strong. Don’t let her break.

-       606 soon became the life of the office… which didn’t say much because it was literally just him, her and Vanderwood in the small room. She was laughing and smiling and radiating joy- her work improved… the Agency was very happy.

-       707. Stay back tonight. Help me with an assignment?

-       Of course, 606, whatever you need.

-       That night when Vanderwood had finally gone past his threshold of exhaustion, the older man peeled himself off the chair and bid “the children” goodnight.

-       She kept typing, she kept on finishing her work for another 20 minutes as he sat there dumbfounded as to why she had asked him to stay back when all she was doing was literally more work. That was what tomorrow was for!

-       He was about to pack up and leave when she threw him a piece of paper.

I’m leaving. Tonight. Come with me.

-       He looked back up at her, there was nothing on her face to discern that she even sent him the message- or even blinked.

“So… you in?”

-       Of course, 606, whatever you need.

-       He nodded. She kept typing.

“Come and see me in my room then?”

-       Aahhh, so that’s how she was going to hide it- she was going to pretend they were going to sleep together. That was something he often found weird in the Agency- they didn’t care or discourage the formation of relationships between agents- probably believed if you got attached they could always use the partner as insurance or worse, incentive.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you in there.”

-       When he arrived she was in full combat gear, she was ready to fight her way out if needed. They went over the plan over and over again, whispering directly into each other’s ears so that not even the bugs in their rooms could pick up what they were saying. Also with occasional moan or shudder it seemed like they were just making out.

-       Her room was just above the route the laundry trucks would ride out from and she had managed to make contact with one of her friends from the outside- come midnight she, they, would jump down and escape this hell hole. They only had one chance to do this- the other agents on duty would notice a paused truck and would respond immediately.

-       The clock ticked by and before they knew it, it was 11:59 and the faint rumble of an engine could be heard, the soft hiss of the brakes beneath her window.

-       “In case I die,” she uttered, her face stoic and unmoving, “I want you to know- my name, it’s not 606. They wanted me to forget but I will never forget. My name is MC.”

-       It was like a punch to his chest, the sound of her name. It ignited something in him that he never thought he would have the chance to feel, to experience. Not there. To find her there amongst all the sin and evil that they do, he knew how to spot a miracle when God sent one.

-       “You’re not going to die MC, I promise,” he replied as he held her to him in a bone crushing embrace, “I promise.”

“Your name, 707- if I die, I want to know your-”

“Didn’t I just say that you weren’t going to die MC?” he chuckled as her helped out of the window, “I, Saeyoung Choi, promise you.”

-       The look on her face as she said his name would have been enough to take him to his grave. To see her face light up with joy and surprise as if someone had turned on a light inside of her, that would be one of his most treasured memories.

-       His sharp ears caught the sounds of rushed footsteps down the hall.

-       He pushed her roughly before she was ready and heard a loud snap of something when she fell onto the truck. MC was bowed forward, holding onto her right foot that had landed awkwardly and bent inwardly- her face contorted into silent screams.

-       Saeyoung made the sign of the cross as he backed away from the window to do a run up. God please- I just found her- don’t take her away from me.

-       He landed beside her, coiling his arms around her protectively as he laid her down to see the damage to her ankle- it was bad but nothing that some doctor couldn’t fix.

-       He beamed down at her, cupping her face tenderly…

-       As he tried desperately to ignore the barrage of agents chasing after the both of them.

-       Saeyoung gently caressed her features with his fingers, desperate to feel everything under his touch, etch it into his mind.

-       “You lie down here and keep safe okay? I’m going to go and hold them off-”

“No! You can’t do that! They’ll torture you to death!” she cried sitting up, screaming out in pain as she accidentally moved her foot. He shushed her, looking forward to see that they were nearly clear of the base… she was so close to being free.

“Shh, shhh- it’s okay MC. It’ll be okay. I promise,” he reassured her, his eyes crinkling so much that little droplets of tears dotted his auburn lashes.

“No it won’t be-”

“I’ll find you. I promise. I’ll find you.”


-       He jumped off the truck and refused to allow himself to look back at her- if he did, he would never be able to leave her side.

-       MC ignored the searing pain rushing up her leg to twist her body to watch her Soulmate’s noble sacrifice. One man, two, twelve men on him… he had no chance.

-       “Saeyoung!” she croaked, her voice stifled by her despair.

-       You promised…

-       707: WAIT

        Yoosung: Why?

        707: Think someone entered the chat room;;

        Jumin: MC…?

-       Saeyoung smiled to himself as he traced the location and turned on the camera.

-       Promised I would find you.



-       He had been searching for months under her orders. Months and no one was right. He was about to give up hope, that he would have to send in one of their own to infiltrate the damned RFA… but then she appeared.

-       Like a gust of wind on a scorching day or the breath of air coursing through starved lungs- she blew into his life and turned it upside down.

-       He would follow her and watch her from afar. He would tap in and listen to her conversations- not because he was interested in what she was saying- he just wanted to hear her voice.

-       Her friend was laughing on the other line, “Oh… MC… you’re too much!”

-       Saeran fell to the floor, his knees smarting from the hard concrete. No- NO!

-       He crawled underneath his desk and curled up into a tight ball, his arms hugging his knees as he lightly rocked back and forth. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, made him jittery and on edge. No- he was warned against this. Was told that if he ever felt this that it was wrong, that he should only love the Saviour and their cause. That the call of someone else was evil, that it was the work of the corrupted

-       But he was already corrupted, no matter how many times they drugged him and made him try to forget- he knew he was… but MC-

-       She was perfect, absolutely perfect.

-       Unfortunately, the Saviour agreed.

-       It was hard to have something of your own in Mint Eye, something private, something sacred.

-       He had to get her back.

-       They had sent her to infiltrate an organisation full of desperate and lonely people- the most kind and innocent person sent into a den of wolves to feast upon. He had to save her.

-       He was frantic, he sent her conflicting messages- wanting to scare her away from Mint Eye but wanting her to stay away from them- especially Saeyoung. If any of them saw even half of what he saw in her… they would steal her away.

-       Finally the Saviour said it was time to claim their prize back, that since he was so good he could take her for himself- keep her safe himself. He was so happy. But when he got to the apartment, as he scaled the building and broke through the window to reach her… she was not as happy to see him.

-       She was screaming. She was backing away from him. She was afraid.

-       He couldn’t think straight- this wasn’t right. She was supposed to be happy to see him, to come with him willingly. Wasn’t that what Soulmates were about? The moment he knew her name-

-       That was it… he knew her name but she didn’t know his… to her he was…

-       “I’m from Paradise. You don’t know this but you were invited too… I know it took some time for me to come for you… now let’s go together… you look scared, don’t be. I won’t hurt you… endless parties, overflowing love, joy without pain… I’ll save you… You invited someone? Maybe… Luciel Choi?”

“MC- Are you hurt?”

“I-I’m fine!”

“I… I don’t know who you are… but let go of her!”

-       No. Not Luciel. The actor. The pretty one. Of course she would fall for the pretty one.

-       “No.” She’s mine. She’s meant for me.

“If you don’t, I’ll have to use force to protect my girl.”

I don’t want to do this.
“You move a single inch, you see this switch here? I’ll press it.” I won’t.

“What do you want?!”

-       The truth then.

-       “To escape this place safely with the RFA planner… If you don’t want to activate the bomb you better stay still. Just watch as I take… “your girl” and disappear.”

-       The pain in his arm paled in comparison to the ache in his heart when she pulled away from him to run into the arms of another man. Away from him. Always away.

-       Never his.

-       Meant to be his.

-       “My name… My name was Saeran.”


-       It was the school for the rich and gifted.

-       Some more rich and others more gifted.

-       Most loved it there. Some merely tolerated it.

-       One person hated it.

-       Brought in through a scholarship to show how the school was “giving back to the community”, bringing in the charity case and parade them around like their latest trophy.

-       Well this trophy didn’t like the case she was put in. She didn’t like the people who thought they could polish her up and make her shine to their standards. She didn’t like them at all.

-       Especially those that shone the brightest- it hurt to look at them, like the sun- blindingly beautiful but dangerous.

-       None shone more so than V.

-       Pfft.

-       Who the hell named their child V? What pretentious jackass does that?

-       Wasn’t it enough that he went strutting around with his best friend, waving and talking to the more common folk? Wasn’t it too much that he went around taking photos of people and landscapes and saying pompous things like “everything is beautiful and everything is art?” Wasn’t it over the top that he had the gall to act all sweet and kind and look like some sort of bronzed Greek God? WASN’T IT?!

-       MC breathed in trying to calm herself. For the better part of the last six months she had spent it running, hiding and keeping her distance from him. He seemed hell bent on seeking her out and trying to talk to her- well she wanted nothing from him! No help! No charity! No pity! Just to be left alone.

-       During a study period, she was cornered by none other than that trust fund kid’s best friend, super-mega trust fund kid the first, Jumin Han.

-       He chose the desk right next to hers although almost every other desk was available, which only meant he wanted to speak to her.

-       “Why do you hate V?” he asked so bluntly she was surprised by it. She sat up from her prone position laying along the desk and twisted slightly to face the man to her left. She propped her head on her hand and gave him a long, pointed stare.  

-       “I… I don’t know. I just do. From his perfect hair to his perfect persona to, god even his name pisses me off! V! There are just some people that you’re not meant to get along with and he and I are obviously not meant to be besties,” she huffed as she rested the front of her torso back down against the desk, resting her chin atop her crossed arms.

-       “I told him,” he clicked his tongue as he shook his head ruefully, crossing his arms like a disappointed adult to a child… or small pet. “I told Jihyun that you were certifiable. Who hates someone just because of what they can see? Without even getting to know them?”

-       Her fingers dug into the worn wood of the table beneath her.

-       Jihyun… now that was… that was a name she liked. Her breath escaped her lungs as she whirled around so fast she almost lost balance on her seat. That name made her feel soft and fuzzy and loved- she had never even met him and she was already in love with him. Jihyun, a good and noble man who wanted nothing more than to love and care for the woman he loved and to be loved and cared for in return. A man who would make them such horrible breakfasts on Sunday when they were married that they would inevitably go out and eat at a restaurant- yet he never stopped trying. Because he loved her and one day he wanted to get it right. A man who would stay in and read the paper to her as she lay in between his legs and slept on his chest- he wouldn’t even move at all for fear she’d wake or be disturbed.

-       She loved that name.

-       Her heart beat faster and suddenly she couldn’t control her extremities, her legs were bouncing up and down in excitement and her hands unsure of where to place themselves, every place awkward compared to the thought of her hands being linked with his. It didn’t feel right- to be on her own, not now she knew his name.

-       “Who?” she meekly asked the ebony haired prince next to her. He was fiddling with a loose thread on his blazer sleeve, pulling at the strand until it came out completely. “Jumin- who?” she repeated hoping that her insistence would be enough to show him how important it was for her to know who this man was.

-       He gave her a perplexed look, thoughtful eyes glided over her form as if he were trying to ascertain whether she was joking or not. His eyes widened and his mouth pressed into a thin line when he quickly realised that she wasn’t asking in jest, she was completely serious.

“Jihyun… Jihyun Kim is V’s real name. The man you so ardently hated?” he answered, his mouth twitching up into a wry smile.

-       Damn it.

-       MC violently pushed herself back from the desk with both hands before she started running to the last place she had seen V- Jihyun. He was entering the dark room just as she was heading to the study hall. The light was on meaning he was developing something… she should be patient…

-       … but all those months… all those wasted months- how could he forgive her? She didn’t know but she had to try!

-       The light flicked off and she knocked, waiting for him to call out that it was okay and that she could come it. She slowly opened the door and closed it behind her.

-       Less than five steps away was Jihyun, pulling down some developed photos.

-       He was right. Everything was beautiful. Everything was art.

-       He was art.

-       And she was just some dumb pedestrian trying to look at the piece and critique it without having all the history and facts behind it, not knowing the mastery it took to create it. The love that went into it. Fool.

-       He turned to her and she swore that the blue of his eyes was just that little bit bluer, the tone of his hair that much deeper and his lips, full and perfect and so ready for her to kiss she couldn’t believe there was ever a time she wanted to slap his smile off. Now she’d do anything to keep it there forever.

-       What’s in a name? Everything. What did Shakespeare know?

-       “I… I’m so sorry,” she cried, prostrating herself in a deep bow.

-       Startled, V set aside his print and pulled the bowing woman up and forced her to look at him.

“What for? I’m not aware of anything you’ve done that would warrant an apology,” he replied good naturedly, his kind smile warming her to her bones.

“I have been terrible to you and only because… for some unknown reason- I couldn’t stand your name. What it stood for, what you seemingly stood for,” she confessed, her cheeks burning under the harsh lights.

-       V reached behind her and turned on the dark room red lights once again- to save her from embarrassment.

-       “I know- it’s okay MC, you don’t have to explain. I know my name is the problem,” he admitted with a careless shrug. MC gawked at him, how could he know? How could he possibly know?! “I’ve known since the first day when I felt the bond but you did nothing but run away from me- I knew that my name was faulty and that although you may be my Soulmate- that I simply was not yours.”

-       All this time, he thought he was the problem. That she didn’t love him because his name was faulty, that he was faulty.

-       Her heart shattered and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying. She almost ruined this man, she continued to pile hurt upon hurt on him and now there she was telling her how much she loved him… well… that was what she wanted to do, whether or not she could do it not was the other question.

-       “No… I… I was just stupid. I thought your name was V, not Jihyun. There was nothing wrong with your name- there is nothing wrong with you. I… just, wanted to let you know that. You’re amazing. You’re perfect and I want to get to know you, just as you are.”

-       Even in the dark, the brightness from his smile could be seen.

-       “You do?” the hope in his voice evident, taking the first steps to close the gap between them.

“I do. I want the chance to know the real Jihyun,” she beamed.

“I would love nothing more than that, MC,” he replied, encircling his arms around her body.

-       Well what do you know, they were a perfect fit.

BTS as things I did/thought during my English exam

Jin: *reads the article for analysis and it ends up being about honeybees* “You know what would go great with honey? Apple tarts.” *stomach starts growling*

Suga: *finishes reading the question paper 7 minutes before reading time is over* *ends up falling asleep until the teacher tells everyone to start writing*

J-Hope: *body rolls subtly as Boy Meets Evil plays in mind*

Rap Monster: *tries to twirl pen with one hand* -pen almost ends up flying off the table- *catches it before that happens, but hits knee against the leg of the table*

Jimin: “Macbeth really didn’t deserve such a mean wife. What if he fell in love with someone else, but was arranged with Lady Macbeth??” *draws on the extra sheets of paper after finishing essays*

V: *ponders about life between essay paragraphs, ends up seeing a woodgrain pattern on the wall next to me* “Haha, it’s shaped like a giraffe.” *draws eyes on the top of the head and two slits for the nose*

Jungkook: *Finishes exam 1 hour early* *reads through the criteria and estimates the marks I might get* “Great, I’m definitely passing this even though I didn’t study at all.”

a little like writing or loving

for nursey week, day 2: “surprise or simplicity.”

“If that pen explodes in your mouth,” Dex says from the bathroom doorway, “I am not gonna feel bad for you.”

Derek startles–and does drop the pen out of his mouth–and looks up. “What?”

Dex cocks a brow at him, flicking off the bathroom light and flopping down on the hotel bed next to Derek’s. “You’ve had two pens explode in your mouth from chewing on them like that,” he says. His red hair is wet, tousled from where he must’ve run his hands through it after his shower, and he rolls onto his stomach, propping himself on his elbows to look at Derek. “What’re you glaring at, anyway?”

Keep reading

max-arthur  asked:

Do you have any good/interesting stims you could recommend?

asdfghjk i probably wont answer this coherently bc i am hyper but also crashing rn lmao sorry. but anyway i love this question bc sharing stims is the BEST here are some of my more unusual stims

Body stims

  • twisting hands. like jazz hands but more twisty. like ur turning a doorknob but u go super fast and u feel the flap and gravity and all that
  • pshfjsh u kno when u crouch in full gargoyle pose? bounce on ur toes. thats some Good Shit
  • lightly hit ur chest as u breathe in and u feel it echo and its so good. be careful not to hurt urself tho
  • tap ur collarbone real fast
  • reading lit written in accented language. like OMAM and Trainspotting and such. disclaimer: my adhd dyslexic ass barely ever reads, but reading accented lit out loud is the best
  • similar: fast singing/raps. like have the lyrics up in front if u need them. go as fast as u can it is FUN
  • twirl a pen between ur fingers. bonus: increases dexterity. downside: u will launch ur pen at an authority figure. its inevitable
  • just like. dig ur head in rly hard to a sofa and like stroke it w ur face? i have no idea how to describe it but u know when a cat digs their face into soft things to rub against it? That but u r the cat

bkidvalsdgdbh ok thts all i can think on. everyone add on ur own more unusual stims that r fun !

Spidey Senses

A/N : I have been having a crappy and stressful week and apparently so has @holagubler. This is a little piece of fluff to brighten up your day :)

Also this lowkey inspired by my own headcannon


Title : Spidey Senses

Pairing : Spencer Reid x Reader

POV : Third person

Word Count : 1063

Beta read : @lostdreamsanddeadroses who is a cool bean <3

Originally posted by zugzwangcm

Garcia’s spidey senses were tingling. Something was up. She could feel it in the air. The way Reid was always smiling, how he checked his phone during cases, how he would randomly leave during lunch, how he smelled like Daisy by Chanel.

The boy genius was in love.

She knew she had to to tackle this with caution. After her many years of working at the BAU if she’d learnt one thing it was this: FBI agents like to keep their private lives private. Well maybe not Morgan, Morgan likes to lay all of his sexual endeavours out on the table for the world to see. Not that she was complaining.

Step one : Approach target.

Keep reading

Master (Park JiminXReader) Ch.1

Pairing: CEO!Jimin X Female Reader

Request: No

WC: 1,853 (I can’t tell if this is short for a first chapter…)

POV: First Person

Rating: M

Contains: CEO!Jimin, Secretary!Reader, Dirty Talk, Master Kink, Teasing, Dom!Jimin, “Good girl”,  light biting, light hair pulling, light scratching, semi-public sex.

Originally posted by jiminsjiminie

My light brown L shaped desk sat right in front of his door but against a window. The blinds to his glass office were closed like always unless he was in a good mood, which was unlikely. Mr. Park didn’t talk that much to anybody but his father, the CEO before him, and the sales department director of the company you worked at. He only says a few things to me a day, I need those emails, those papers, or that meeting to be rescheduled.

I ran inside the building and tapped my foot while waiting for the elevator. Why was it the one day I was actually late one of the elevators had to be broken and all of the others full.

There was a meeting in 10 minutes and I told Mr. Park I’d have all the typos and papers in the newest presentation finished today. The only problem was the conclusion, last night my laptop died and I had left my charger on the desk. The worst part though, Mr. Park believes the opening and the conclusion are the best and most vital points of a presentation.

8 minutes.

The elevator still wasn’t down yet and it still had 7 more floors. I opened the door to the stairs and started quickly walking up them. I needed to get to the 14th floor in less than 6 minutes, finish the last few sentences and give them to Mr. Park before the presentation.

7 minutes.

My heel broke and I sighed loudly as i just took off my shoes and started jogging faster, my breathing more heavy and my clothes feeling tighter.

6 minutes.

I started jogging even faster. I was only on floor 4.

Once I got to our floor Mr. Park walked out of the meeting room angrily and the clients left the room quickly and pushed past me and into the elevator that just opened. I quickly walked to my desk and turned on my computer.

“Mr. Park, I am so so sorry I couldn’t make it to the meeting before this one to take notes. I was trying to finish the presentation notes for the Japanese clients for the next meeting.” I said rushed after I stood and bowed a few times and I continued to apologize.

He was holding papers in his hand and didn’t even look up from them before he crumbled them a bit in his hand and just slammed the stack on my desk. “My office now.” He said loudly.

I stood before slowly moving my way into his office. The door closed hard behind me making the room seem more cold and dark than usual because of all the blinds being closed and the only light coming from the main window behind Mr. Park’s desk the over looked the city.

“What is this about sir, if I may ask?” I said softly as I sat down.

“The meeting the presentation notes were for was moved to two hours earlier. They were a complete mess because the conclusion typos were so bad and someone” He glared at me as he twirled his pen in his hand. “wasn’t here to fix them or at least take over.”

“Oh my gosh, sir I am so so sorry… When did it get moved?” I asked quickly before looking in my planner.

“Last night. We sent out an email…” He said softly but with a still firm tone. My fucking laptop. Great.

“Sir, my laptop died and my phone and charger were in the office last night so I had no way of getting the ema-”

“Do you know how bad it looks on my part if my employees look unprepared? Especially to men who know my father.” He said softly before he set down the pen.

“Sir I don’t know what I could do to possibly compensate for what I did…”

“Well…” He all of a sudden smirked “…what are you willing to do? That little stunt we had to pull to make it seem somewhat less of a mistake could cost millions.”

I looked up, realizing he was staring at my legs and my white tucked in shirt.

“Anything.” I smirked as I sat up more before he stood and he put his hand under my chin and tilted my head up and slowly lead me to stand before he unbuttoned all of the visible buttons before backing me into his desk. A few items fell as he pushed back his name plate so it wouldn’t fall and few papers scattered onto the floor.

“What about calling me master?” He brushed the hair off of my shoulder and pulled me closer before quickly flipping me around and pulling me against him hard as he unzipped the pencil skirt I was wearing.

“I think I could do that sir.” I said and he loosened his tie and smirked.

“You mean master.”

Keep reading

Not So Shore

A ‘Mortals Meet Percabeth’ fic, with a twist!!
10k words

“Hey, Kelly?”

Kelly looked up from her biology textbook, blinking at her best friend Olivia, who was definitely not doing the chapter review questions they’d been assigned. “What?”

“Do you think there’s something weird about Percy Jackson?” Olivia asked.

Kelly followed her to gaze to where Percy was sitting at the back of the room, leaning back in his chair. He wasn’t doing the review questions, either - instead, he was staring into the fish tank behind his desk. Kelly couldn’t see his face, but his dark hair was ruffled up and he was wearing his AHS hoodie with ‘Jackson’ emblazoned across the back of it.

“What do you mean, weird?” she asked, turning back around to Olivia.

Olivia shrugged. “I mean, just… there’s something strange about him.”

Keep reading


Member: Kim Jaehwan // Wanna One

Genre: College!AU

Plot: When you were bored in calculus, you thought an innocent ‘hello’ on the desk wouldn’t do anything. But little did you know it would open up a whole new aspect of college.

Word Count: 5533

AN: Hello!! I didn’t intend for this to take so long, and I’m sorry I suck at plot descriptions but I hope you like it and I apologize if it’s terrible

Originally posted by sungwoona

You wracked your brains, eyes darting between the clock, the professor’s death glare that swept the class, and the door. Only 42 seconds left. The calculus worksheet in front of you was almost completely filled, save for the challenge questions that almost everyone got wrong anyways. You had to at least look like you were jotting something, and felt the chills tingling down your spine as Professor Jung glanced at your idle hands. You instinctively twirled your pencil, before looking at the empty corner of the wooden desk you were seated at. The urge to write perhaps a small but forbidden message was overwhelming. You check the clock again. 5 seconds left. You scribble a small ‘hello’, positive that it would be left unread and undisturbed. The bell in the mathematics building rang, and before Professor Jung could dismiss the class formally, every student rose in a frantic wave to get to the door first.

As you left, the next class was already flooding in. A heavy backpack barrelled into your shoulder, and you stumbled briefly, before shooting a venomous look at the unaware boy. His hair was ever so slightly parted, his eyes radiating the apologetic message he could not verbally say as he was swept towards the desks by the stampede of students. Had your arm not been throbbing so painfully, you would have admitted begrudgingly that he was among the cuter population of the boys you had seen in your first few months of college. You tried to not let it bother you, especially when you hadn’t a clue who this boy was, but you decided it was more important to get to psychology on time than linger around.

Hey there.’ You read the message once, then twice. You were beyond stunned at the neat Hangul letters that answered you directly under your message. It was in an obscurely dark spot as well, making the writing less visible. You smile slightly at the reply, twirling your pen as you tackled the packet on the continuation of yesterday’s lesson, this time on inverse trigonometric functions. The packet wasn’t difficult but it was not a walk in the park as yesterday’s worksheet had been.

Inverse Sin of….” your thoughts trailed off, your pencil retracing the reply. The letters were neat, in precise lines and curves. You wanted to reply, and you snuck a glance at Professor Jung. He was too busy scolding one student in the second row for dozing off to bat an eyelash in your direction. You think hard for an intelligent conversation starter. Would this anonymous writer sit here again, hoping for a reply? Or would it be some student who was oblivious to this?

How do you survive P.Jung’s boring lectures? I almost die.’ The bell rang, and you stood up dutifully with the rest of your class. You tucked your stuff away neatly, hoping to linger and at least read the expressions of the next class. You were aware that there were at least three or four other calculus classes after yours, but still the thought of possibly seeing your new friend excited you.

“H-Hey.” A timid voice caught your attention. It was the boy from yesterday, the one who had given you the ugly dark bruise that was currently throbbing on your shoulder. You straighten up, eyes meeting his own apologetic gaze. “I wanted to apologize for accidentally hitting you the other day.” He held out a small cardboard container, something reminiscent of Chinese take out. You nod, confused at the mysterious contents.

“____. Please be aware you are holding up my class and close to being tardy for you next one.” Professor Jung’s drawl caught your attention, and you flash a miserable smile at the boy before running out the doorway. Your cheeks were burning from humiliation, and you tried your best to not scowl at how obvious he had been in shaming you. You pause to look down at the box, opening the top flaps to peek inside ever so slightly. Cookies. He had baked you cookies.

You nibbled on one as you jogged lightly towards the psychology class. It wasn’t the best cookies you’ve had, but they weren’t the worst either. It made you smile at how warm and gooey the chocolate chips were, and you realized he must have at least taken the time to warm them up recently for you. What a weird boy, you think with a fond shake of your head, and march through the door for the next class, ignoring the curious glance of the teacher for your rather delayed entrance.

The bell revives me every day. Also, I swear the guy in front of me farted.’ You stifle a soft giggle that was threatening to bubble out from your lips, and instead thought of something to write back. The handwriting was the same as it had been the first day, the neat penmanship almost leaving you green with envy. You envisioned whoever this person was to have just as pretty hands. You threw a quick glance towards the clock. Four minutes left. You were proud of your ability to at least wait until after your daily workload was over with before paying attention to the messages, but you also had the suspicion that you finished quicker in efforts to read and reply faster.

‘I hope you didn’t die twice because of that fart. Are you a boy or a girl?’. The shrill of the fire alarm startled you, and you hit your knee hard against the desk’s bottom surface. Other students were throwing victorious looks as they shoved their belongings in their bags or tried to carry everything out in a cheerful early exit. 2 minutes and 9 seconds before class was officially over. Professor Jung was barking orders for everyone to exit in an efficient manner, but it was not working. You made your exit as quietly as possible, grateful it had begun ringing after your response was completed.

“This is awesome!” Said one boy, a student named Jung Sewoon. You had spoken to him a few times, and of the students in your class, you were probably the closest to him. Not that it was saying much; you were more of a wallflower, and he was more of an acquaintance than anything. He flashed an innocent and adorable smile to you, before moving onwards towards the sidewalks where all the students were trying to cram onto, excitement clearly written on their faces.

You fidget idly on your spot, trying to avoid having other peers trample on your feet as they squeezed through towards their friends. It was not that you had no friends; rather that you were quite superficial in the extent you would allow yourself to grow attached. There were nice people everywhere at university, and you were thankful for the smiles that would greet you at a lunch table, or the belongings that would be pushed aside for you to sit down at the library. Still, you had yet to find some group you wanted to wished to call yours, and drifted nomadically from group to group.

You found your gaze wander at the nearby faces, before a flicker of mild interest occurred. There was that boy again, the one with the cookies and apologetic smile, talking quite merrily with Sewoon. His eyes were in a crescent as he avidly discussed some topic, his hands moving rapidly as he tried to project his ideas. Sewoon was nodding, as if the information or whatever the other boy was saying made perfect sense. It was fascinating to see someone you had thought was more like a turtle be so animated. At a second thought, you could agree that the boy was indeed cute. He caught your lingering gaze, and sent a small smile. You felt a little awkward, almost conflicted. Your stomach had slight butterflies at his attention. You offered a pathetic half-hearted wave, which he returned with a broader grin, before motioning you to come over. Nervousness filled your veins as you stumbled towards them, Sewoon welcoming you with a friendly nod.

“Hi! I don’t think I ever introduced myself. I’m Kim Jaehwan– oh right, were the cookies okay? I was scared I underbaked them because I was in a rush trying to make sure it was made fresh.” You were stunned by his openness, and even more so at how Sewoon did not look surprised at Jaehwan’s little story.

“Oh. Uh. Hi.” You started stupidly, and then shook your head slightly. “I’m _____. And the cookies were great,” you noted how his lips quirked up a little more at this, and he stuck his hand out for a handshake. You took his hand. It was warm and rough at the same time, calluses scratching against your palm.

“So you were the girl he hit accidentally. He told me he thought you were going to kill him and that he needed to beg for forgiveness,” Sewoon followed his words with a gentle chuckle, and you were taken aback. You recalled vaguely shooting an angry look, but you were also quite tiny and had not suspected anyone to ever be afraid of you. Jaehwan sent an embarrassed look at you, before hitting Sewoon’s upper arm.

“Hey! You can’t say that to her! I’m supposed to be quite macho.” You almost snorted at the silliness between the two boys, but by then the students were all drifting away towards their next classes, which were almost halfway done, and you waved goodbye to the pair. For the first time since the semester had started, you felt excited at the thought of seeing specific people on campus. You glanced back once more, seeing the last bit of Jaehwan’s figure disappearing towards the calculus room in the crowds.

‘That’s for me to know and you to find out. Maybe. I’m hungry.’

The reply did not disappoint, and your lips slowly rose in the corners. You had little work, as your calculus class had ended up being too far in the curriculum compared to other classes, so the professor did not seem as grumpy. You had not felt as rejuvenated in a while. Sewoon was sitting the the desk beside you at your request. He appeared pleasantly surprised when you had asked him to sit next to you, and now he writing something furiously onto a blank sheek of paper. You had peeked over and seen musical notes, and decided to leave the Ponyo lookalike to his own business. It felt significantly less lonely with him a little nearer, and more like you had made a real friend.

I heard today’s cafeteria food is good. Can I at least ask what your favorite food is?’

Sewoon threw a small piece of crumpled paper onto your desk, and you unravelled it slightly. There was a message. You quietly opened it a little more, being careful to not make a sound and risk anything with Professor Jung’s hawk-like hearing. It was simply a smiley face, with the words, ‘don’t get caught’ on the bottom. You flashed a look at him, and he responded with a smile. You pretended to erase your words, hoping Sewoon would not attempt to read it later, and instead doodled until class was over.

Jaehwan was waiting outside of the door, smiling at seeing you and Sewoon.

“We should eat lunch later. Is 12:25 okay?” Sewoon nodded, before jerking a thumb at you. You were standing there awkwardly, trying to skirt your way around the two boys to not disturb. “____, you come too! We can be the Three Musketeers!” You nod hesitantly, and Jaehwan gave a satisfied smile at this. “See you guys later then!” He walked into class, wincing slightly as if already imagining the calculus that would dumped on them to make up for the fire drill. Sewoon waved as the two of you split directions as well, and you went on your merry way to psychology. It would be after this class. Then you could enjoy lunch.

You could hardly focus during psychology. It almost felt like there were fireworks exploding in your chest. You finally belonged somewhere. After months of just drifting from person to person, you finally found two people who you wanted to stay close to. You blushed a little at remembering how optimistic Jaehwan was. Three Musketeers…

By the time class was over, you could feel your stomach begging for food. You felt almost miserable at how hungry you were, but brightened at the thought of seeing Jaehwan and Sewoon. There was a spring in your steps as you made your way towards the cafeteria, and unbeknownst to you, a smile was forming on your lips as you saw Jaehwan in the distance. He was standing by himself, the first to arrive at the main entrance of the cafeteria. His eyes was pointed to the sidewalk, kicking a small rock between his feet as he waited idly. He finally looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, and his gaze lit up.

“____!” His voice was joyous. He kicked the rock gently to you, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Think fast!” You tried stopped the rock with your foot, but you took a step too far. You let out a yelp as you felt your weight shift rapidly, your foot skidding across the gravel that had accumulated at the sidewalk. You screwed your eyes shut, willing the pain to erupt on your backside as you rocketed towards the ground, into gravity’s open arms. Instead, you could feel two arms catch you, and you hit Jaehwan’s chest with a solid thud.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” You squeak, embarrassed at how clumsy you were. He peered down at your face, concern showing in his eyes.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Your ankle is okay? No sprains?” You nod meekly, trying to ignore the burning sensation in your cheeks. He sighed in relief, the exhalation of his chest evident against you. Suddenly you were all too aware that you were still in his arms and that he was still supporting you. You stood up abruptly, staring at your feet.

“I’m sorry.”

“I guess this makes up for the book bag incident then,” he replied jovially, nudging you gently. “Don’t worry about it, you’re probably tired.” You nod, grateful for his words.

“You’re good at passing though. Did you play soccer?” You ask, trying to divert the topic. He grinned broadly at the compliment, puffing out his chest as if he were about to give a long, boastful speech.

“Every Sunday after church, my friends and I go. Sewoon joins in too sometimes. You should come!” You nod at the invitation, wondering if that was how Sewoon and Jaehwan had become friends in the first place.

“There you guys are!” Sewoon jogged over lightly, a smile on his face. Jaehwan opens the door for you, and you step inside, greeted with a blast of warm air from the heater. The scent of bean sprout soup, freshly cooked rice, and other side dishes wafted to you, and your stomach grumbled once again. Jaehwan laughed, a bright and high sound escaping him, and he poked your arm.

“For such a tiny girl you sure are noisy!” He said, passing a metal tray to you. He watched with amusement as you heaped on food, shaking his head in wonder at the mountain you were supposed to finish. As the three of you sat down, you grinned at Sewoon’s astonished face.

“____, are you sure you can eat that?” You nod furiously, digging into your food without another word. The boys were chattering about the upcoming open mic, trying to figure out if they should do two stages individually or do a duet. You listened, nodding every now and then, but mainly focusing on munching away. As you got your spoon ready for another mouthful, a pair of chopsticks dropped a sheet of salted seaweed on top of the rice. You looked up to see Jaehwan’s entertained face.

“Slow down before you choke,” he scolded gently, before watching you grin and finish the next mouthful. Sewoon chuckled softly at this, clearly enjoying your mukbang.

“Have you ever considered making your own eating videos?” He asked innocently, and you giggled at the thought, high fiving him. “You could probably make a lot of money like that.”

“I swear I don’t normally eat like that!” You said defiantly, laughing as Jaehwan rolled his eyes. “I was really hungry I swear.”

“Whatever you say. I haven’t ever seen Jaehwan eat like that, even when he’s eating lettuce.” Jaehwan chortled at the words, before hitting Sewoon away playfully.

“That was one time. I did it for fun!” Sewoon gave him a mocking side eye, and the two continued to bicker while you finished the last of your food. Sewoon messed your hair with his hand before picking up the tray for you.

“Well at least she finished food just in time for class. See you guys tomorrow?”

‘I like some veggies. I like eating in general. I also think it’s a shame that you can’t see the stars that well at night anymore. Light pollution sucks.’

“Ms._____, is there really no work for you to do?” Professor Jung’s sharp voice rattled you as you hastily covered the writing.

“I- I finished the worksheet of the day,” you mumble, and he muttered something about pretentious students taking courses too easy for them as he turned back to glowering at the other students. You covered your chest with your hands, trying to calm down the erratic beats. The thought of this little conversation getting caught scared you for some reason. This person was your friend, a secret pen pal. The only motivation you had to finish your daily workload in calculus was only to read the few words written down in pretty script. You sighed, while Sewoon gave you a sympathetic smile as he scribbled down the next few variables on problem 26 part c out of the 35 for the day.

The stars are pretty. Will I ever meet you?’ The words were cautiously written, and you could feel the weight of consequences that could arise. It could be a magnet that brings two forces together, or it could be the poison that pops this little bubble and keeps you from ever meeting this fascinating person. The desire to see this person had grown exponentially from the first day a few weeks back. Sometimes, to your disappointment, there would be no reply. To try to act your own part of nonchalance caused you to skip a few days as well, something that made you almost relish and despise your childish actions. If this were summed up into a more modern topic, you would certainly categorize it as online flirting in some chatroom, except there was no ability to know who this person was, and there were no feelings attached other than vague excitement that would flare in the bottom of your stomach to see the next reply.

Just the night before, you had a dream that you had met this person. You could not see the face clearly; there was a cap over the head, along with a baggy hoodie that was covering most of their body. A mask covered any distinct face features, and by the time you woke up, you were almost hysterical at how tauntingly close this all was. It had been bothering you since, and it probably showed as you sat in the soundproof practice room that Sewoon and Jaehwan were practicing in that evening.

“Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet for a girl who just downed a cup of coffee,” Jaehwan noted as he tuned his guitar, his elegant hands turning each knob until it matched his needs. You nodded, a little dazed, but smiled as Sewoon began to strum his guitar.

____ is a weird girl. But Jaehwan is a weirder boy~” His voice was clear and strong, soothing even if the lyrics made you laugh. Jaehwan began to mimic Sewoon, and the two sent lines back and forth in song while you were struggling for air as your laughter consumed you. Your sides were in stitches, and there were tears in your eyes as they finished, standing up and bowing to their imaginary audience, satisfied smiles on their faces.

“What do you think? I think we can debut with that masterpiece.” Jaehwan prompted, his eyes turning into crescents as he grinned broadly at you. You affectionate cuffed his head.

“I don’t remember half of the nonsense you two spewed out!” The two boys erupted in laughter once more, Sewoon’s muted chuckle mixed with Jaehwan’s higher squawk. It was among the stranger mixtures of noises you had heard together, but somehow it was perfect, and you felt a rush of endearment for the two boys. How would you have managed the last few weeks if that fateful encounter did not happen? Undoubtedly, it would not have been as joyous and warming as it was.

“Well, I think we should practice if we are doing a duet, because I swear if you pull some lyric mistake on me I will die of embarrassment,” Sewoon said. Jaehwan smiled mischievously, setting his guitar down on his lap for a moment.

“Did I mention I was a talented rapper? I think I can be a large contribution to this duet stage if you let me-”


‘Come to the open mic at the school cafe and you can meet yours truly. I’ll throw a little surprise gift just for you.’ The scribble excited you, and you twitched in your seat. You would meet this anonymous person tonight. You were planning to go anyways, because of Sewoon and Jaehwan. The two boys had practiced hard in the past week, and you had spent more hours than imaginable in the music department’s building, going on hot tea and water errands and making sure to bring tissues and cough drops if the boys needed it in colder weather.

“____! Are you busy?” Jaehwan’s voice interrupted your thoughts. You were walking from your dorm to the library, about to make a study guide to preview the next chapter in psychology. You shake your head, curious about his inquiry. “Wanna hang out for a bit?” You follow him, walking towards the music department. By now, the two boys had their own practice rooms to themselves, and you were all too familiar with the cozy little space that Jaehwan had led you into. A warm mug of tea revealed that he had been there earlier as well. You sat side by side on the foldable chairs, facing one of the walls.

“Is something wrong?” You asked softly. His gaze was distracted, and he was fiddling with his hands. You loved his hands. They were beautiful, and they looked like he could be a hand model if he wanted to. You loved how they were rough from all his guitar playing, but how warm they were whenever your fingers would briefly graze his whenever you passed some item. You hesitantly reached out to grab it, preventing his fingers from suffocating one another.

“Nothing is wrong. I’m just… nervous.” He let out a long exhale, before lifting his gaze to look at you. “About the performance.” He wrapped his hand around your own, and you offered a comforting squeeze. What would you have done if he had not hit you with his backpack? You probably would not have ever met this wonderful boy!

“You sound great, and you’re going to do great,” you said firmly, and he smiled at your words, squeezing your hand back gently. A blush crept up to your cheeks. When was the last time you had held hands with a boy?

“What would I do without you?” He sighed, before leaning his head against your shoulder. You froze, uncertainty and panic rising in your chest. Your heart felt like it was beating too rapidly to be considered healthy, and you were almost scared to admit that the feeling and warmth was nice.

“Are you going to sleep?” You whisper, and he chuckled at your words, shaking his head to indicate he was not. His fluffy hair tickled your cheek, and you suppressed a smile.

“Sewoon told me something funny a few days ago…” Jaehwan’s voice trailed off. You glanced at him, intrigued. “He said you-”

“Is Jaehwan there? I’m opening the door- Oh. Am I interrupting something?” Sewoon stood awkwardly at the door, his gaze flicking between you and Jaehwan. Jaehwan sat up quickly, and took his hand away. You felt cold without him, but ignored it, instead smiling and waving Sewoon in. “I brought food.” He revealed, still awkward, and held out a grocery bag of chips. Jaehwan dove for the bag, and the two boys squabbled over it while you watched on fondly.

The day flew by in a whirl of faces and colors, and finally it was evening. You stood in front of your mirror, not minding your roommate’s sleeping figure on her bed as you shrugged on a thick cardigan over your simple black dress. You were aiming for a simple but nice look, something approachable. Your heart was nervous but excited to find your pen pal, but was also excited to see Jaehwan.

A few rapid knocks on your door notified you that it was time to leave as you walked through a puff of rosewater scented perfume as you moved towards the door. Jaehwan and Sewoon grinned at you, admiring your freshly curled hair.

“This is a new side of you,” Jaehwan said as he picked up a curl, letting it bounce back in place with a smile. You were about to shove him playfully until something in his hands caught your eyes. A pink and white rose. His gaze followed yours, and he gave an embarrassed smile. “Don’t mind this. It’s a gift.” Sewoon grinned teasingly at his words.

“He’s probably going to confess to some girl. He’s been so daydreamy these days.” The words gave your gut an uncomfortable shove, and you stifled it with a hopefully non-pained smile. You don’t have a right to be jealous, you chided to yourself. He didn’t deny Sewoon’s words, much to your disbelief.

“That’s cute.” Your voice was blander than you had hoped it to be, and you grabbed your tote before turning to lock the door. An awkward pressure was between you and Jaehwan, but Sewoon took little notice as he cheerfully chattered about how excited he was to perform again on stage and how he was going to get a part time job at a local cafe as the live singer. You laughed as you fixed his red tie for him, which made him beam at you.

“I should go grab a seat now. Good luck you two!” You said sincerely. Sewoon nodded, and turned to leave. It was just you and Jaehwan now.

“You should fix my tie for me too,” he said, a little grumpily. That’s cute. You comply, gently tugging and ensuring it was straightened out. He reaches out for a high five, which you slap gingerly until he encloses your hand in his own. You turned red at the prolonged contact, dropping your gaze. The rose came into view once more, and you bite your lower lip, trying to push away the jealousy.

“I should really go get a seat now. Don’t be late.” You pull away towards the audience. A few front row seats were thankfully open, and you scooted towards one as carefully as possible. The show was about to start, and you appreciated the dim lighting and minimalist decorations that did not deviate any attention from the performers. You listened to poems, stories, and songs. And finally, the third to last stage. Sewoon and Jaehwan.

The audience was already riled up, eager to listen to the two boys. They had quite a following at the university, and even professors were fans of their angelic voices.

“Hello! We’re going to perform Skyfall by Adele. We hope you enjoy.” Jaehwan cleared his throat a little, the sound echoing from the speakers. His gaze flitted around the crowd, restless like birds provoked by a leaping cat. He’s probably looking for that girl, you think sullenly. You felt a little sour at this, and turned your gaze to Sewoon, who was smiling angelically at you, his gaze lighting up as you gave him a thumbs up for encouragement.

Their voices were beautiful together, and you were in awe. You had heard their rehearsals, and watched just how much effort was put into this, but every time you just fell more and more in love with their voices. Jaehwan’s was rich and smooth, making every note effortless and breathless. Sewoon’s was sweet and soothing, something you swore you could fall asleep to like the gentlest lullaby. The room fell silent, ears straining to catch the slightest sound that poured out of the boys’ lips. As the song hit its climax, Jaehwan’s high notes filled your heart, and you were gasping at how beautiful he sounded. You could not believe the performance was over until the last strums of the guitars died down, and Jaehwan and Sewoon stood up to bow. Jaehwan’s hand reached below his stool, where the rose was tucked away from sight. A lump formed in your throat, and you forced your gaze downward.

How could you have been so stupid to not have realized earlier that you grown to like this boy? From the bruise that was long faded, to the endless meal time chats, and even making hideous faces across the table at the library while studying, this boy had crept slowly but surely into your heart. And now here he was, about to confess to some girl, and you would be forced to watch because you were one of his close friends and you were expected to be supportive of this clueless dork. The memory of earlier today flickered in your mind, and you wanted to run away and hide. If he was going to confess, then why did he rest his head against your shoulder? Why did he have to catch you when you were going to fall in front of the cafeteria that day?

He tapped the mic, grabbing everyone’s attention with a shy and boyish smile. The lump grew harder in your throat, lodging itself in such a way that it was almost painful to inhale. Your eyes fearfully looked up, waiting for his words as everyone quieted down.

“I hope that was a great performance that you guys enjoyed. I actually wanted to say it was somewhat of a confession.” The crowd cheered, cat calls sounding in the room as your eyes met his own. What was there left to say at this point? You were just the best friend, probably one of the ‘bros’ with Sewoon. You forced a meager smile, hoping it did not resemble the grimace you were trying to contain.

“There was a special present that would wait for me sometimes in my calculus class. I had a little friend who would write me messages on my desk. I didn’t know who this person was until a few days ago, when Sewoon over here mentioned it. And then I came early, just before my class started, and saw her reply to me. It was really a beautiful sight.” Your heart halted at his words, and his smile grew fondly as he stared down at you. He took a step closer to the edge of the stage, before bending over to get closer to your level. You turned into a deep shade of red, your mind forgetting how to function. What was breathing? What was this boy even saying? Your thoughts were jumbled in some chaos, unable to form proper ideas and grasp the situation.

“And she’s here today. And she’s a girl who’s very special to me, someone who encouraged me daily while I practiced, and someone I grew to love a lot as a friend and more.” This had to be a prank, a secret camera of some sort. You opened your mouth to say something, but the words flew past in your mind, unable to ever reach your lips. He knelt down, holding the rose out to you. The room exploded in applause and cheers, all eyes fixated on you two. “____? I’m glad to have formally met you. I am a boy, I love lettuce, and the stars are beautiful, but so are you. Here was the gift I promised.”

You reached out a shaking hand, grasping the flower. It felt surreal, like a dream. He took your hand, and warmth filled your whole body. The room fell into a hushed whisper, waiting. Sewoon was smiling proudly from the side, and nodded in approval when your eyes sought his reaction.

“And I know this is sudden, but I don’t think I can wait. ___, will you be my girlfriend?” You smile, nodded wordlessly, and allowed him to envelope you into a tight hug.

Notice Me!

“And you’re telling me this because?”

“It’d be a shame if you died, that’s all.”

Genre: Fluff???

Pairing: Teacher!Jungkook x reader, BadBoy!Yoongi x reader


The sun had begun to set. Gripping onto the train pole, your eyes were glued to the window as various buildings washed pass every other second. You inhaled deeply. Adjusting the straps on your bag, you winced as the heavy textbooks weighed down your spine. You were looking forward to take a shower at home and then taking a nap. Anything would be better than having to replay those words in your mind over and over again. You let out a heavy breath, closing your eyes.

“Jungkook…” you mumbled.

The image replayed within your mind like a broken record. His smile. His lips. The way the train blew his hair as his tie danced softly in the wind. You reach a hand to your chest, squeezing your sweater tightly. “Why am I acting like this?” you curse to yourself. The train carriage was nearly empty, leaving you standing alone in your thoughts.

The day Jungkook transferred to your school was a Wednesday. Jungkook’s hair was black then and he wore his glasses often. The first time he had stood in front of the class you had assumed he was a new student just like you. “Hello everyone,” he said as he lowered down in a slight bow, “I’m Jeon Jungkook and I will be your new home room teacher.”

“Teacher?!” Namjoon blurted, causing the whole class to laugh.

Joy piped up, leaning forward in her seat, “You look like you just graduated high school?”

Jungkook laughed as the class agreed in unison. He smiled widely as you watched quietly. He wore plain black dress pants and a white button down shirt. You instantly felt your chest clench every time he moved a muscle. The shirt was too tight on him. “Yes well,” he said, “I hope we all have a good time together!” He smiled. The whole class started to bicker amongst each other. All eyes were on Jungkook except for you who stared outside the window. How are you going to concentrate when there’s practically a celebrity idol walking around the room? You huffed, resting your chin in the palm of your hands.


You felt a small tap on your shoulder. Turning to your side, Jimin pointed towards the front. Jungkook looked at you, eyes soft and filled with curiosity.

“Sorry?” You asked, putting your hand down and placing your hands under your desk fiddling with the hem of your skirt. His voice was sweet like honey dripping off every word.

Jungkook let out a small laugh, “I asked what your name was.”

“Oh,” you puffed, “It’s (Y/N).”

The class looked back at you and then at Jungkook who let out a soft smile, “Nice to meet you (Y/N),” he said, “Next time please refrain from daydreaming,” he laughed, “I’ve only been here for a few minutes and I’m boring you already.”

There was an unfamiliar glint in his eyes you couldn’t decipher. His voice, you have sworn you have heard before. An eyebrow raised towards you as he leaned against the desk, arms stretched out in front of him, “(Y/N?)”

Everyone chuckled as the heat rushed to your cheeks, “Sorry.” Your fingers held your heated cheeks as you returned your attention outside. Jungkook let out a laugh before picking up a marker, writing down on the board.

During the rest of the week, Jungkook was all every girl talked about. You couldn’t blame them. Who would have thought a man like Jungkook would teach at your school? Even today, you can’t shake him off your mind. Every time you had closed your eyes, Jungkook’s mischievous smile looked up at you. 

The train had started to slow down. The towns getting closer and closer to the window. The sky had become a dusty pink as bits of orange began to appear. Stepping out of the open train doors, you hopped onto the platform. Making your way home, a soft sigh escaped your lips. One step in front of the other, you watched your feet move along the pavement. How are you going to face him now?

It was too early.

You grumbled as your alarm screamed at you from the bedside table. Reaching an arm from under the warm covers, you slapped it back to sleep. Sitting up, you twist your torso from side to side feeling your back pull. You smiled, stretching with a grin. Pulling off the covers, you slipped on some socks as you headed towards the bathroom. Your tiny had apartment smelled like fresh coffee and breakfast cereal. The sound of cars and trucks driving by your apartment muffled through the windows. As your socks glided against the floor, you made your way to the laundry, pulling your sweater out of the dryer. You held the collar to your nose. “Ah!” you sighed, inhaling the fresh smell of soap and flowers. The faint melody of your ringtone echoed through the halls as you lightly jogged to your bedroom. Pressing it against your ear, you continue to wander around the house.


“Good morning (Y/N)!” Joy’s voice chirped, “I need to ask you a favour.”

You huffed, walking over to the bathroom mirror. You put the phone on speaker as you placed it on top of the sink. “What is it?” You asked, hands playing around with your hair. After fixing yourself up, you walked over to the kitchen. With a thump you placed your bag on top of the table, throwing in a water bottle. Opening up a cabinet above the counter, you felt the cold morning air nip at your exposed back. Reaching forwards, you managed to grab your lunch box.

“I’m going to be late to school,” Joy said as you opened up the lid, rolling your sleeves up, “Can you cover for me?”

You quickly scraped last night’s left over fried rice and sausages into the container before pressing the lid back down. Sliding the pink container into your bag, you rushed to the bathroom. “You owe me one,” you say, tying your hair up. Pulling some strands out around your face you looked down at your phone.

“Thank you so much (Y/N) my loving baby-“

Never being one for pet names, you grimaced, “Okay I’ll see you later!”

Joy’s laugh sun through the speaker, “See you!”

You had taken solitude in walking. Walking had meant that you could take in the empty street with open arms, listening to the leaves rustle in your remote neighbourhood. The early morning came through a bright blue sky as white blotches of clouds spread above like cotton candy. Turning to another street, a familiar figure had already began walking towards the train station. You craned you neck before spotting the black backpack, a small teddy bear swinging back and forth its zipper.

“Kim Namjoon!”

The trains were always cramped in the morning. Many people in your town had preferred to as it meant that they could save money on petrol. You looked around the congested train. Countless business men were reading their own newspaper. Students from different high schools laughed along with their friends. You were all huddled into one space, waiting to start your day.

“Aren’t you helping Yoongi study?” Namjoon asked. The both of you had taken the train together nearly every day for the past few months. Not long after you had met Joy, you had also met the boy with the teddy bear backpack. Namjoon lived in the same house since he was a baby. It was surprising to see him greet you at your house when you had first moved into the tiny apartment.

You nodded, fiddling with your bag, “Just until he gets his grades back up before the exams.”

Namjoon nodded, humming, “Hopefully this will keep him grounded.” He said, his attention towards the small fluffy toy strapped to his bag. You chuckled.

By the time you took your seat at the edge of the classroom, school was already in action. The loud cheers of classes outside, the whistling of cleaners, the turning of paper and the squeaks of shoes against hard wood floors have already begun. Another day was in motion. Everyone was writing down the notes Ms. Kwon had scribbled up on the board. A few rows ahead of you, Namjoon and Taehyung were already laughing at something they saw outside. A few seats next to them, a lump with blonde hair slept quietly. You smiled.

“Hey (Y/N),” someone whispered.

You glanced over to the seat next to you, Jimin smiling. You raised your eyebrows. A worried look filled his eyes as he fiddled with his pen, twirling it between his fingers. He looked at the empty seat a few rows ahead of him before turning back towards you, “Where’s Joy?”

A cheeky smile rose on your lips, “She slept in don’t worry Jimin,” you tried not to grin, covering your mouth. The silver haired boy slowly nodded, turning back towards the front. You had almost missed the sight of him tucking his bottom lip under his teeth, flipping through his notebook quietly.

You turned to the window, one arm propped up as your chin nestled into your palm. You were grateful that Ms. Kwon gave you the seat right next to the window. Many classes had been lost in translation as your gaze was always fixated outside. There was nothing better than to let your mind doze off in a daydream. However today your attention had been occupied by a familiar figure making its way across the field. You watched quietly. Jungkook stood at the edge of the field smiling. The same blue clipboard was tucked beneath his arm as he had one foot on top of a soccer ball. You gulped as Jungkook brushed a hand through his hair and continue to roll up his sleeves. Yesterday’s events still fresh in your mind.

Silently your eyes followed him around the field. Jungkook kicked the soccer ball towards a group of boys before laughing. He laughed the same way. Slightly leaning forward with one hand clutching his stomach. His eyes would slightly crinkle as his smile would show. You had memorised every inch of that laugh. The same sweet melody that played as he walked with you after school.

You huffed, paying attention to the many notes you had forgotten to write down. “Stupid Jungkook.”

The whole day you had been avoiding him. You had made sure that you wouldn’t bump into the teacher with the bright smile and coffee coloured hair. Throughout the day, every step and every turn had been perfectly designated. Joy had complained how weird you were numerous times as you dragged her through the longer hallways rather than taking the stairs to get to class. You hadn’t told anyone about yesterday’s incident. Not even Joy. You had thanked the heavens that Jungkook was not teaching your class today. You couldn’t imagine what would happen. The thought of his eyes on you once more made your bottom lip tuck in between your teeth.  

By lunch, you had felt your stomach grumble. Everyone was making their way outside, desperate to get away from papers and pens.“Let’s eat,” you told Joy, pulling her through another lengthy hallway around the school. Making your way outside, your eyes caught onto the small brown bench in the sun. A grin appeared on your face as your hand clutched tightly onto Joy’s, pulling her, “Come on-”

Suddenly, Joy came to a halt. Turning your head, you watch her look back inside before turning back to you, “(Y/N) Can I ask you another favour?” she asked. You raised an eyebrow and lightly let go of her wrist. You watched as her eyes danced around outside before making eye contact with you. 

“What is it?” you asked curiously. Joy giggle sheepishly, rubbing her hand up and down her arm. You raised your eyebrow higher, wondering what she was up to. 

You didn’t know why Joy wanted to eat in the cafeteria today. It was loud and rowdy inside, everyone sitting down and talking. It was the complete opposite of how you preferred to spend your lunch break. Rigid in your seat, you listened as Joy continued to sing about how Jimin’s hair looked ‘so ridiculously cute’ today. You pouted as you looked out the window. You missed the bench. You missed the fresh air. You missed the sun. You were not fond of the chaotic mess, the smell of student sweat, over sprayed perfume and screeching cafeteria chairs. However, after countless tugs on your sleeve and whiny cries of reasoning, Joy had managed to sit you down inside. You huffed. 

“So how was teaching Yoongi yesterday?” Joy asked, ignoring your attitude as she rummaged a fork through her salad. She picked up a piece of chicken, staring at you as she nibbled on it, “Is he dumb?”

Your eyes widened as your head quickly whipped behind you. Not too far away, Yoongi was sitting with his friends at a table not too far away. You quickly gazed at how he took a swig of water, focused on whatever was on his phone. Surrounding him was Jimin, Namjoon, Taehyung and a few guys from the class next door- Jin and Hoseok. They were all laughing at a joke Jin had said. Yoongi was silent, as if no one was in the room. As if he had felt your gaze, his head lifted from his phone. Turning back to Joy with a worried look in your eyes as you said, “Joy, you can’t just ask people if they’re dumb.”

“I just did though?” she asked. Her dark hair was tied up in a big bun, curled strands of hair framing her face. You were amazed as she pulled the fork out of her mouth, eyes wide.

You chuckled, “Whatever,” you said, taking a sip of your water, “Teaching him wasn’t as bad as I thought. He picks it up really well.”

Joy hummed as she finished her salad, pushing the empty container away from her, “Aren’t you guys meeting up again after school?”

You nodded, finishing your sandwich, “He better not be late this time,” you muttered. Joy shook her head, laughing.

Yoongi was late again.

The clock on the wall above you had laughed at you as another ten minutes had passed. Craning your neck to look outside the window, you couldn’t see him anywhere. Frustration began building up inside of you.

“Where are you?” you mumbled to yourself, tapping your nails against the wooden desk. You weren’t getting paid for this.

Getting up from your chair you didn’t bother packing up your books, just in case he came in last minute. Tightening your ponytail, you made your way outside of the library. “Maybe he’s making another phone call?” You asked to yourself as you walked around outside. He wasn’t near the boy’s bathroom. Nor was he at the cafeteria. After a few minutes of playing hide and seek by yourself, the frustration had begun to rise as you ran around the school trying to find him.

“I could be at home eating,” you whine, standing outside the library with your hands on your hips. Just before you turn around to go back inside, a small sliver of grey had caught your eye. The grey smoke swirled into the air before disappearing into the fading blue sky. Your eyes traced it to the back of the library. You frowned, taking your steps towards it. You found yourself making your way to the back of the library, curiosity bubbling within your stomach. However, as you turned the corner nothing but shock had caused your eyes to slightly widen,

“You smoke?”

Yoongi stood at the back of the library, back against the wall with one leg propped up. He was looking up at the sky, white ear buds covering his ears. You coughed, waving the smoke away from your face,


His eyes darted to you, “Crap.” He looked down at his phone, checking the time, “What are you doing back here-“

“You smoke?” you repeated.

He stood turned towards you, one hand in his pocket and the other pinching a cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. He pulled both ear buds out, letting them dangle against his chest. You watched him bring the cigarette back to his lips, inhaling it before releasing a cloud of grey from his lungs. His stare almost piercing through you. Your eyes narrowed.

“Cut it out.”

Rolling his eyes he dropped it on the gravel before squishing it down with a black sneaker. You watched it fizzle as its ashes drowned itself. You couldn’t believe it. “How could you smoke?” you asked.

Yoongi craned the back of his neck, closing his eyes as he massaged the back of his neck, “Because it helps me relaxed,” he said before peeping one eye open at you, “maybe you should try it sometime.” 

You scoffed, “You know I don’t have to teach you English so I don’t get why you’re acting this way.”

He shrugged, kicking down at the now crushed cigarette, “Then why don’t you?” He asked, looking up at you with a sly smirk. He looked tired, “No one forced you to anyway.”

You had never been at the back of the library as it was considered an out-of-bounds area. You assumed that was the place neighbourhood cats would roam. It only made sense that Yoongi would have a smoke here. It was a place no one would ever think of going to. You sighed, “Because you need it.”

His ears perked as he let out a low laugh, “What do you get out of it? Some dirty fling with Jungkook?”

Your lips parted as a small gasp escaped, “Excuse me?”

Yoongi let out a laugh, a mocking tone laced within, “As if you think I didn’t notice,” He said, “Don’t act like you didn’t practically undress him with your eyes right in front of me yesterday,” he chuckled, eyes never meeting yours, “I’m not an idiot.”

Words couldn’t configure in your mind as yesterday’s events flashed back into your mind. Your hands clenched beside you as you looked away, “I never said you were.”

Yoongi shrugged as he reached into his pockets and pulled out another cigarette, “Whatever, do whatever you want,” he chuckled, “or whoever you want, I should say.”

You watched intently as the cigarette dangled in between his pink lips before pulling out a black lighter, bringing it towards the tip. With a click, Yoongi held the orange flame against the cigarette and grey smoke escaped his lungs once again. “It’s none of my business,” he began to say, “but you shouldn’t go after him.”

You pressed your back against the cool brick wall beside him, eyes never leaving the leaves that swayed along the tree branches, “And why’s that?”

Yoongi took the cigarette out of his mouth and held it besides him, tapping against it, ash falling onto the ground, “He’s a jerk.”

“How do you know?” you ask.

“I just know.” He replied.

You laughed, nodding. For some strange reason, the both of you standing behind the library had felt peaceful to you. You had felt your shoulders loosen, one leg propping up against the brick as you folded your arms, “Well, there’s no point in teaching you today,” you turned your head to the side, facing the blonde as your head leaned against the cool brick, “you better not be late tomorrow.”

His eyes finally met yours and you felt your body fail to move. There was something within his gaze that held you tightly. Strands of light hair fell against his forehead, the remaining pushed back in a rugged manner. He smelt like cigarettes and soda. “You still want to teach me?” he asked, “After blowing you off twice?”


He rolled his eyes, “I had a smoke yesterday too, idiot.”

“You said you had a phone call.”

He shrugged as he brought it back to his lips, “It’s called lying, Sweetheart,” he laughed as he turned back towards the sky. You felt his gaze release your body as you felt your limbs moving again. Rolling your head back to the trees, you felt the wind hit your knees. Your skirt lifting lightly from the breeze. Placing your hands on top of your thighs, you continued to watch birds fly by.

“Ever done it before?” Yoongi asked as he ruffled the top of his hair. His uniform was rugged, only half tucked in. His watch slid up and down his thin wrist as he ran thin fingers through his bleached hair. He continued to stare up at the sky. A trance playing within his eyes.

“Done what?” you asked.


You didn’t reply. Instead you stood in silence, watching the blue sky continue to fade. Time had felt slow once again. The clouds had spread out like wings. Yoongi didn’t min either, inhaling and exhaling his own clouds into the atmosphere.  The bitter smell irritated your lungs.

Turning back towards him, your eyes narrowed, “Give me that.”

Before he could question what you were saying, you stepped towards him. “What are you-“

You pinched the cigarette out of his lips and you watched the smoke escape his lips. Without a thought you placed it between your fingers, handling it gently as you inhaled it. Yoongi’s eyes widened at the sight. The cigarette was in cased between your soft lips. Running a hand through your hair, you felt the smoke swirl and escape your lungs as puffs of grey drew into the air. You coughed. Vigorously. Yoongi watched you quickly drop the now small cigarette, stomping it into the dirt. A flash of something you couldn’t decipher had shone through his eyes before he rested back against the wall.

Yoongi clicked his tongue, “Why did you do that?”

You let out another cough, “Smoking kills you know?” you said. You rested back into the wall, coughing out the remaining tobacco. You sighed, trying to inhale the fresh air above you.

Yoongi sighed, “And you’re telling me this because?”

You turned to look at him. You couldn’t tell if it was curiosity or genuine disinterest pointed at you. His eyes were so dark against the blonde strands that covered the bits of his forehead. His skin was so pale and you let out a little cough. You had felt the heat in your skin from your coughing fit.

“It’d be a shame if you died, that’s all.”

You couldn’t see the way Yoongi looked at you as your attention turned back towards the green and gold leaves. The way they moved captured you. You coughed once more, “Never again,” you mutter. Pushing yourself off the brick, you began to make your way back inside to get your bag. Making your way back towards the front of the library, your body came to a halt as you bumped into someone.


Looking up you were met with a face you have been avoiding all day. The teacher with a bright smile and coffee coloured hair. You glanced up. His eyes were cold. His jaw clenched. You stood at the side of the library, one foot digging into the dirt. Jungkook’s eyes were narrow as he tilted his head to the back of the library, “Is there anyone else back there?”

You lowered your head, eyes not able to meet his, “No.”

Jungkook nodded, “So you smoke?”

Again you shook your head as you started down at your shoes, “It was just a one-time thing.”

He scoffed, “Where did you even get one?”

You couldn’t reply.

“Answer me (Y/N).”

You didn’t.

Right,” Jungkook muttered, “grab your things and come with me.”

You nodded, scurrying into the library to get your bag. The sky had dimmed to a dull blue, all the clouds disappearing from above. You grabbed your bag, following behind an angry Jungkook. You felt the bitter taste of Yoongi’s cigarette still lingering in your lungs. You wanted to throw up. Walking silently to his office, small tears had slowly started to form in your eyes.

Jungkook walked ahead of you, quietly.


[From: My Little Pigeon] I don’t feel well

Lance hides his phone under his desk and frowns at the text.

[To: My Little Pigeon] what’s wrong???

He glances up to the teacher then back to his phone while he taps his foot impatiently and twirls his pen around as he waits for a reply. However, five minutes pass with no new texts, so he taps out a second text. 

[To: My Little Pigeon] Pidge?? U okay??

Another five minutes pass, and Lance is as tense as can be. Worry swells within his chest as his thumbs fly across letters on his phone.

[To: My Little Pigeon] Katie holt if u don’t answer me I’m gonna assume the worst and call cops, paramedics, firemen, the fbi, everyone Pidge. I’m gonna call everyone if u don’t answer me right now

When two minutes pass with the only text coming from Hunk, Lance makes a decision. He quietly gathers his things and exits the classroom, shooting the teacher an apologetic wave as he opens the door.

He takes a sharp right and starts toward the math hall. He knows Pidge’s schedule by heart, and he skids to a halt in front of the “Advanced Calculus” classroom only seconds later.

He peeks through the small, glass window with a frown. Pidge isn’t in her usual seat in the back corner, but her bag is.

Bathroom, Lance’s mind supplies, and he takes a quick glance around until he spots a women’s bathroom by a pair of vending machines at the end of the hall.

He approaches the door and hesitates with his hand pressed against it as the “WOMEN” sign stares back at him, but his worry triumphs, and he slowly pushes the door open with a muttered apology.

For a second, the bathroom appears empty and silent, but a sudden loud, gagging sound echoes from the back stall, and Lance’s face falls.

“Pidge?” He asks as he swiftly walks toward the last stall. “Are you okay?”

“Lance?” Pidge questions, voice surprised, but any other words are cut off as she heaves into the toilet once more. 

Lance winces at the sound and places a hand on the cool stall door. “Let me in?”

After a minute, there’s a rustling sound followed by the click of a lock, and Lance slowly pushes the door open to see Pidge scrambling back to the toilet. He watches with furrowed brows as she presses up on her knees and heaves into the toilet again. 

Crouching down, he places a hand to her back and moves it in small circles. The heat radiating from the small girl is alarming, but Lance opts to voice his concern once Pidge isn’t puking her guts out.

For minutes, Pidge fights a losing battle against nausea. At one point, Lance briefly leaves to wet a paper towel. He presses the cold, rough fabric to the back of her neck, and Pidge has just enough time to breathe out a grateful “thanks” before another wave of nausea has her retching into the toilet.

Three times the bathroom door opens, and Lance hears disgusted female voices followed by the door slamming closed. Fuckers, he thinks to himself. 

Finally, after a long ten minutes, Pidge stops, and she flushes the toilet and allows Lance to pull her to her feet and out of the stall.

Lance walks her to a sink, and as she rinses her mouth out, he studies her.

While she’s normally as pale as can be, her complexion matches that of a ghost. There’s a grayish tinge mixing with a crimson flush colored across her cheeks. She’s also slick with sweat, but her entire body is shaking.

When she turns to him, he doesn’t hesitate to press a palm to her forehead, not surprised to find it burning.

“You’re sick.”

“You’re in the girl’s bathroom.”

Lance tilts his head and puffs out his chest. “I would cross the deepest of rivers for you, my little Pigeon!”

Pidge rolls her eyes, and she wants to laugh, but her cramping stomach has her glancing back to the stall with nervous eyes. 

Lance catches on, face dropping back into a frown. “Okay, let’s get you back to your dorm.” He grabs her wrist and starts quickly toward the door with the mindset of the faster the better, but she grinds to a halt, and Lance turns around with just enough time to see her throw up down her chest. 

“Pidge,” he says softly, but she jerks her wrist from his hand and turns toward the sink, gripping the edges and bowing her head.

Lance watches her shoulders shake, and he knows she’s crying. Do something, his mind yells, and he drops his bag to the floor, shrugs out of his jacket then slips his shirt off.

“Here,” he says softly, and she looks up with welling eyes, but the silent question is still there.

“Just until we can get you back to your dorm.”

She nods and takes the shirt into a stall. Seconds later, she comes out with her dirty shirt balled up in her hands. Lance’s blue shirt hangs down to just above her knees, but he figures it’s enough until they get her back to the dorm.

Pidge shoves the balled up shirt in her backpack then shoulders it and staggers slowly toward the exit, but Lance stops her with a hand to her shoulder.

“Lance, what-”

Lance slides his bag from his back then crouches in front of Pidge with his back to her. “Hop on. You look like you can barely stand.”

Too tired to decline, Pidge slowly climbs onto Lance’s back and drops her face against his shoulder as he slowly stands and starts out the bathroom.

“I feel like death,” she mutters, and Lance nods sympathetically.

“Never fear,” he mutters, voice light and soft. “Mighty Man Lance is here to save you.”