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#Return of the Ape Man
weirdlookindog · 10 months
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The Walking Dead (1936) & Return of the Ape Man (1944) - Double Feature
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horrororman · 10 months
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#Horror/#scifi films released on July 17th...
#ReturnoftheApeMan 1944.
#RoboCop 1987.
#JawsTheRevenge 1987.
#Mimic2 2001.
#EightLeggedFreaks 2002(US).
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spryfilm · 9 months
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Blu-ray review: “Return of the Ape Man” (1944)
“Return of the Ape Man” (1944) Horror Running Time: 61 minutes Written by: Robert Charles Directed by: Philip Rosen Featuring: Bela Lugosi Prof. Dexter: “Some people’s brains would never be missed!” Critical Commentary The history of cinema is dotted with a myriad of genres and subgenres that have captivated audiences for decades. One such genre that has consistently drawn attention is…
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frankendavis · 2 years
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A happy commemorative birthday to Bela Blasko aka Bela Lugosi.  This is a montage I made ages ago as a tribute to Mr. Lugosi and as a tribute to the artwork of Jann Haworth, and Peter Blake (et al). I did receive a nice email from Mr. Lugosi’s granddaughter and son when they were made aware of my little endeavor.
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movieposters1 · 2 years
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quaintii · 10 months
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Across the Street
Part 1
Summary: It's been a couple weeks since a new family moved in, across the street. You go pay them a visit with an offer.
Warnings: no smut yet... just some build-up. Miguel x f!reader (I got the pic from Twitter, the @ is @kimmy_arts0912!!) also sorry that its hella long, plot ykk (pls read a/n at end!)
Part 2 <-
Part 3 <-
On a Sunday afternoon, you decided to go out with your friends at the mall. You hear a knock on front your door and open it. "Hey! I came here early again, didn't I?" Your friend said "Hey Ash! You motion your hand inside your house.
She takes a seat on the couch, smiling and giggling. "Heyy, why are you like that?" You furrow your eyebrows together with a grin on your face, giving her some juice.
You jolt as she stands up quickly and grips your shoulders.
"Did you see that guy across the street?!" She fans herself with her hand, exaggerating and giggling. You raise your eyebrows, not knowing who she's talking about. "No..., why? You like him?" You nudge her shoulder with yours in return. "A man like that.. can fuck my brains out!" She exclaims.
You quickly slap her thigh in response, getting a groan from her. "Fuck you do that for?!?" "My parents are home! You mumble. In shock, she covered her mouth with her hand. A few seconds later, you hear a ring from the front door.
You open your door to your whole friend group, the 5 of you in total. You greet them all in and spend a couple minutes inside before heading to the car altogether, carpooling.
"Hurry up!" One of your friends yell at the other one. Your eyes avert to what Ashley was talking about earlier, you see a big U-haul truck with multiple men pulling out furniture.
None seemed to be the man your friend described until you see a man from the huge window pane talking and motioning his hands where to place the furniture. Seems like your friend wasn't exaggerating at all. He wore a black button up shirt, some buttons loosened on top. Adjourned with some dark grey work pants that fit between some-what tight and loose.
What really caught your eyes were his glasses, sitting perfectly on his nose bridge. As he looked around his surroundings, he caught your gaze and gave a small grin. You snap out of it and return back to reality and enter the backseat, engine starting and loud booming music playing.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ~
You sit down with your legs crossed over the other, waiting for the waiters to take the group's orders. You rest your chin on your palm, sighing. One of your friends seem to notice.
She touches your shoulder, "Something up?" She asks. You nod your head, resting it on her shoulder. "Yeah... my parents told me I have to start paying rent to stay at the house." You let out another breathy sigh. "I mean I don't even know how I'm going to manage when I'm focusing on paying back my student debt from last year and with my one job not being enough.." You muttered softly.
Your other friends eavesdrop and reassure that it'll be fine and to not pressure yourself into becoming a total workaholic. you let out a small laugh and the waiter finally heads towards your table.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ~
The next morning you wake up with a bad hangover, only remembering your friends' went to a club and its a blur after that.
You get up and change your bed sheets and take a relaxing shower. As your in your bed with your laptop working on your AP classes, your mom barged in.
"Get your ass up and do something! I'll be making you pay rent by the end of the month!" She raised her tone at you, annoying your peace.
"Mom, I'm already busy with paying my student debt from last year with my on-going job right now!" You exclaim back. "I've applied to other places for a job, they keep rejecting me." Your mom gave you nothing but a scoff and a cold glare. "Are you positive you've looked everywhere for a job nearby?!" She stepped into your room further.
You nod your head, annoyed how she always had an attitude with you.
"Well it looks like you didn't look close enough, the new neighbor across the street is looking for a babysitter." She said while touching your posters, eyeing the window.
"How do you know?" You asked. "He posted an obvious sign outside his front yard 3 days ago." Your mom sighed. "Look.. just give that one a try or move somewhere else with your friends." She's finally out of your bubble.
You groan and place your head on your laptop as you closed it. You slip into your shoes and head downstairs and walk across the street. "Seriously, what a nagging bitch.." You mumble under your breath and ring the doorbell.
The door opens sooner than you expected, facing a tall figure towering over you. It's him.
"May I help you, Ms?" He raised his eyebrow, expecting a response from you.
Finally being infront of him hit you like a stone brick, your vocal chords thrown out the window. You clear your throat. "Good morning, I don't mean to be a bother to you but I heard you're wanting a babysitter..?"
"Oh yeah, that reminds me..are you available later in the afternoon? If not, tomorrow if you're not." He gave off a small smile. "For afternoon, yes but if you don't mind me asking what for?"
"Oh sorry," he places one of his hands on his hip, other on the back of his neck. "For an interview, just want to do a small background check, that okay with you?" He tilts his head to the slide, letting a subtle smile stretch across his lips.
You nod and shake his head, heading back home.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ~
You walk up to his door to knock and check your phone. 4:05 p.m. You avert your eyes at him as he opens the door, smiling and greeting you inside. Miguel remains standing while you take a seat. He looks at you, studying your face, your movements, and the way you sit down. Once you make yourself comfortable, he sighs, looking away.
"Can I take a look at that?" He asked and you slide the folder file his way. He nods a couple times as he flips through the papers and starts typing on his computer.
"Do you have any experience with taking care of babies?"
He asks quietly.
"Yeah, I always babysat when I was in highschool."
He nods, seeming satisfied with the answer you gave. Miguel was quiet for a few moments, his mind going over a few things. He eventually speaks, and when he does, his voice sounds almost like a whisper.
"Could I trust you with taking care of my daughter then? With her safety and everything?"
He was quiet again.
"She's... very precious to me. I don't want her to get hurt."
"Yes of course! I would gladly take great care of her for you sir." You responded politely.
"Very well then."
He remains silent, looking at you for a moment longer, thinking about what to say next. The man then nods and starts talking again.
"She's five, and her name is Gabriella. She's a little angel... and she's mine."
Miguel took a breath and sighed, rubbing his face.
"She'll be home in a couple hours; I'll be gone..she's at her mother's house right now. I was planning on telling her that she'll have a babysitter, so she'll be excited."
He starts walking but then stops again. He then looks at you again and nods, as if he was thinking of something.
"Oh, I just need to set some rules and expectations for you to stick by, if you don't mind."
Miguel waits for you to acknowledge his words.
Your face turns a soft red, "Sorry, I was just spacing out but yeah of course." You smile back.
Miguel chuckles when you say you space out, and nods to acknowledge your answer.
"That's completely fine."
"First rule; you're responsible for her safety while I'm gone. No strangers can come in and stay, no party, etc." He seems to be thinking of more rules to add, taking a moment.
"Second; be nice to her. She's young and is easily scared or sad. So be kind."
He nods as if he finished, but then goes silent again.
"Third; no boys allowed without my permission. It's a rule for everyone, honestly." You continuously agree to his terms.
Miguel nods, still looking at you. His eyes seem to take a quick glance down at your clothes, studying you once again. He seemed to stare at your body as his gaze moved across your clothes; he didn't care that he was staring at you.
"I think that's it. Any questions?" "Nope!"
"Very well." Miguel nods, as if he was satisfied with the answer you gave.
"Then you will begin your babysitting job tonight when Gabi is here..." He pulls his cell phone and looks at the time on the screen before looking back at you.
"...in 2-3 hours. She'll be excited to see you, so make sure to make her smile." Miguel smiles at you and nods once again.
Miguel's eyes go back to your body, his gaze slowly moving across your curves from top to bottom. He then looks away.
"You will also find two numbers on the fridge; mine and the number for our family doctor. They are for emergencies."
Miguel then crosses his arms.
"That's all I have to say. Gabriella will be here in two hours. She'll knock three times before entering, okay?"
"Got that," you noted mentally.
Miguel nods one more time. "Alright, I'll be gone then. Don't worry, Gabriella is very easy to take care of."
He smiles and starts walking to the front door again. Before leaving, he waits to see if you had anything to add.
"See you tomorrow then Ms." You shoot a smile at him and head to the door first, which unexpectedly you stumble over a Barbie doll car. You stop from tripping onto your knees as you feel calloused hands brush over your waist, slightly gripping onto your skin. His hands around your waist made you shiver, the small skin to skin contact emitting some heat to your core.
You regain your posture quickly, embarrassed of yourself. "I'm sorry.." You blurt out. "Its fine really, Gabi tends to leave a trail of her toys around the house", he laughs lightly. "Ah okay...see you tomorrow then Mr.." You wait for his response. "Mr. O'Hara is fine." He says before shutting the door.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
a/n: srry its pretty long, you guys can tell me down in the comments if you want a part 2 or if you'd like this to be a slow burn but somewhat fast? leave any tips!! ty :3
EDIT: PART 2
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Little Paintings
Mihawk x gn!reader
Summary: surely the extremely observant and powerful warlord of the sea won’t notice your little paintings all over his castle…
Content: pure fluff, with just a hint of romance. reader is written as autistic.
A/N: I recently watched a TikTok where somebody was painting cute little designs all around their house until their spouse noticed. It made me think of this idea. Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago. Enjoy!
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You like painting. Always have, always will.
However, you’re not sure if the fearsome Dracule Mihawk will appreciate it so much as you, not when you’re painting inside his crystal ware cabinet. Especially not when you didn’t bother to get his permission. 
Not that you’ll stop.
If anything, it makes you determined to work quicker, nudging more of the delicate wine glasses aside to you can lean in and finish the adding paint strokes to the fine wood, creating a minuscule image of a little bottle in the back corner of the cabinet.
Is it silly for a fully grown adult to be doing this? Perhaps. Yet you can’t help but smile as you add the final touch to the tiny little label on the bottle, a small swirl of purple paint to match the label of the wine he shared with you yesterday.  
Perfect.
When you extract yourself and carefully push the wine glasses back in place, the painting is completely hidden. You have just enough time to hustle back through the chilly castle halls and tuck your paints in your room before he returns inside from his sword practice.
He gives you quite the long look when you settle in the kitchen later that day, those piercing yellow eyes seeming to cut through your surface and see so deep. And though you feel your breath catch—as it often does around this formidable man—you force yourself to smile innocently.
“Yes?” you ask.
“I will be sailing out for supplies this afternoon,” he says after a long moment.
You nod and draw your knees to your chin. “Do you need me along?”
“No need for that.”
You sigh with relief, watching as he turns back to his cooking. You don’t dislike people, but you do prefer your solitude. You always have, ever since you were a child. It’s why you feel content to stay here now.
That, and how utterly delightful it is to watch him cook.
He’s terribly handsome when cooking, though you’re fairly sure the man would look handsome doing anything. His knife seem to blur as he cuts up the vegetables, then begins to prep the meat. When he reaches for the pans, his cross necklace shifting against his finely cut chest, your heart skips a beat.
Yet he simply grabs a pan and gets to work, seeming to not notice the tiny cross shaped sword painted just behind where the pots hang.
Really, it’s foolish of you to do this. Yes, art has always been a passion for you, but you are a guest here. A guest he has allowed to stay for some months, and a guest who has shared just enough casual, accidental touches that you hope it might become something more, but still a guest.
Still, you’re curious. Just how much can you paint before the great swordsman notices?
You’ve been at it for a week now, ever since you found the dusty little bottles of paint tucked away in a forgotten storeroom. You use every moment he’s out to sneak little paintings around the castle, none bigger than your thumb.
There’s the little map against the doorframe of your room, like the treasure map you were following before you stumbled on this island.
Then there’s the small ape painted onto one table leg in the dining hall, a far less fearsome version of the beasts that chased away your captain and crew when you all landed here. You recall how frustrated you were that they left you behind, a frustration that has long since faded now that you can count on the safety of Dracule Mihawk’s castle.
He walks past you now, a hand brushing briefly against your arm before he continues on to grab the spices across the kitchen.
Not an accident, surely. Nothing this man does is accidental.
That makes you think of the minuscule wanted poster you painted in the corner of your doorframe yesterday, in honor of the fear you first felt when you realized just who inhabited this place. Funny how frightened you were that first day. And the second day.
…and the third.
By the forth, however, you had figured out he likely wasn’t going to kill you.
By the fifth you’d determined that so long as you didn’t irritate him, he didn’t seem inclined to make you leave either. In fact, as days went on, you became fairly certain he didn’t mind your company.
Which is why you now play this foolish game of sneakily painting designs all around his castle.
You always considered yourself clever. Yet apparently all it takes are a few “accidental” touches and heavy looks for you to throw all your caution to the wind. Teasing a warlord, vandalizing his castle… such a perfect plan for long term survival.
Still, you do truly enjoy painting.
Your favorite are the flowers you painted along a small crack in the stones of the great hall, colored with a yellow that makes you think of his stunning eyes, the eyes that have over the last few months shifted from disinterest and disdain to… something else.
Something that makes you hope perhaps you won’t always be just a guest.
You’re not brave enough to make any moves yourself—never really have been when it comes to matters of the heart—but that won’t stop you from seeing just where these lingering glances and soft touches might eventually go.
Those same eyes stare at you again now as you make your way to the dining hall and pick at your food, separating the small bits of tomato from the rest of your meal. You bite back a smile as his gaze cuts down to your plate and he takes note of the rejected vegetable. Knowing him, he won’t use it in your meals again.
You honestly don’t know how a man so observant has not noticed your paintings yet.
“Do you need anything from the village?” Mihawk asks, startling you from your thoughts.
“I’m alright, I think,” you say. Given the nearest village is several islands away, you take a moment to think about it truly, but everything you need has been provided for you already. If anything, you’re far more comfortable here than you ever were with the crew you sailed alongside, a crew that only cared about you for your rough mapmaking skills—your least favorite thing to paint if you’re being honest—and were quick to abandon you when the first hint of danger appeared. 
He nods and turns to his own plate. You try not to stare at the wall behind him, where you‘ve recently painted a tiny little figure sitting in a tiny little chair wearing a tiny black wide brimmed hat, hidden just at the base of the dining hall floorboards.
Trying not to giggle about it keeps you distracted through most of lunch.
“I’ll be off then,” Mihawk says as you both finish your meals, rising from the table.
“Be safe.”
Ah yes, because you need to tell the strongest swordsman in the world to be safe. You mentally kick yourself, but feel better when he offers you one of his rare almost smiles, even as he pauses by your chair.
“Don’t worry yourself,” he says, that confidence that you’ve come to admire woven through every inch of his words. “I highly doubt there will be anyone to challenge me. Truly a shame. Oh, as a note…”
“Yes?”
Your breathe hitches as he reaches out, gently taking your hand and lifting it towards him. You’re hyper aware of how strong his grip is. So powerful, yet intentionally gentle. Of how piercing his gaze is, those eyes that are so hard to meet, even as they set your heart racing. He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a slow, deliberate kiss against it.
Oh.
When he lowers your hand, he’s… smiling. Not just that almost smirk, but a real smile. Your heart lurches again at the sight. When he speaks, it takes you a long moment to process his words around the pounding of your heart.
“The entry hall could use a few more flowers, perhaps, if you must paint all over the walls.”
Then he’s off, leaving you stunned where you sit. Your draw your hand close to yourself, staring at the skin he kissed.
You hadn’t noticed it until now, but on the back of your hand is just the slightest smudge of dried purple paint from earlier.
As you run a finger along the paint, you find yourself hesitating. Then before you know it, you’ve risen from your chair and are hurrying to follow, to catch Mihawk before he leaves the castle.
Perhaps you need some supplies after all.
More paints. New brushes. A proper tray for mixing your colors… and maybe even a true kiss from the warlord you’ve fallen for.
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kisseobie · 1 month
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jasmine
pairing: non idol jongseob x fem!reader
genre: fluff
a saccharine summer evening spent at your favorite nail parlor is so much sweeter when you’re accompanied by a boy made out of star-shaped tangerines 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
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tags: established relationship, reader is slightly anxious, the sweetest boyfie seob, reader is sooo girly, slightly suggestive if you squint, jongseob thinks ur the prettiest girl in the world, usage of petnames (baby, princess, etc..), yall are so in love it’s sick, no smut in this but mdni pls
a/n: haiii everyone ^_^ so i haven’t written self inserts in years but i desperately crave more jongseob fics (as u can see from my last post lol) sooooo here i am!! this is very self indulgent but if i like how this goes i mighttttt start taking piwon requests :p please be kind as i haven’t written in a veryyyy long time… anyways enjoy 𓇼⋆。˚
listening to: jasmine - dpr live ♪
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“they have to soak off my previous set before they get started so you really don’t have to stay with me here if you don’t want to seob.. it’s gonna be 2 hours at least.”
you shyly inform him as you begin to retrieve your phone from your back pocket to search for your appointment confirmation email as the pair of you come to a gentle halt in front of the entrance of your favorite nail salon. you pause before entering, turning to face towards him as the salty breeze of the nearby boardwalk cards through jongseob’s copper colored hair, a sight that makes you swoon. “you sure you won’t be bored?” you ask shyly, and jongseob gives you a toothy grin in return, eyes crinkling softly as he tilts his head towards the sliding doors of the salon, a sweet and silent reply to your hesitance that speaks, “i’m never bored when i’m with you”. he slowly lifts his hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear and kisses your cheek, all whilst interlacing his fingers with your slightly smaller ones as you both make your way into the salon.
you somehow find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him.
it’s been just short of a year since kim jongseob first approached you, fidgeting with the fabric of his favorite hoodie and swaying back and forth on his heels to ease his nerves as he asked you for your number. the sweet boy expected for you to kindly let him down (partly because you had never spoken to him a day in your life, and partly because of the gorillaz logo on his apparel), but to his astonishment, you simply punched your number into his keypad, and one text reading: “hi :)” led to a plethora of late night conversations, hushed giggles shared in his bedroom, and coffee flavored kisses in the mornings (much to his roomates’ dismay).
he’s wearing that same hoodie this evening too.
the domesticity of your blooming relationship is new, but never unwelcome, so it didn’t surprise you when he asked to accompany you when you were cuddled up with him a few nights ago, haphazardly mentioning that you were planning to get a new set of acrylics soon. seob had been paying for your previous sets despite your constant disapproval, but this was his first time going with you to a booking, and it felt oddly intimate, like you were starting to enter a more serious stage of your relationship.
jongseob’s reassurance allows you to let go of your irrational fear of him dying of boredom during your appointment, and with that, you two carry onto your seven o’clock session.
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“girl, that’s your man? that’s the one you were telling me about?”
are the first words that leave your nail tech’s lips as as you settle down into her usual station, setting your purse to the side, straightening your jean skirt, and adjusting your bra strap as you question the surprise written all over her face. you had spent countless of sessions with her discussing your relationship with jongseob, her even being there for the details of your distant crush on him prior to you being asked out. always the persistent type, she had been practically begging for you to bring him around these last few appointments, mentioning something about “taking a good look” at the boy who had swiftly stolen your heart.
your tech must have noticed the slight blush of embarrassment appearing on your cheeks, because she jumped to clarifying her previous statement with, “i don’t mean that in a bad way babe! he’s definitely very attractive, i was just surprised you were so shy in approaching him is all.” at these words you tilted your head a bit, only more confused about the implications of what she was attempting to tell you.
“y/n, he was staring at you the entire time you were checking in like he’d hang the stars and moon for you if you’d ask. he had that dopey lovesick look and everything. he’s obviously smitten, you have literally nothing to worry about.” she relays to you with amusement as she dips your fingertips in acetone.
you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in and quietly giggle. “really? okay i’m really glad you said that, he’s been so sweet to pay for all of my sets without me even asking him to and i was just so worried that he’d hate me forever if he got bored sitting here. i think i’m just not used to doing simple chores with him rather than elaborately planned dates” you whisper to her. you then take a peek at your boyfriend’s comfortable form lounging on one of the hot pink seats of the salon, his nintendo switch clad in one hand, and his cheek pressing against the other. you notice he only has his left airpod in, just in case you needed to call for him. your heart melts at the sight, and you finally turn your full attention back to your tech, now removing your old set of nails.
as you wait patiently in your chair you begin to lightly sway your head to the song playing on a distant salon speaker, one that your boyfriend coincidentally has on repeat each time your with him nowadays. “it’s called jasmine, it reminds me of you.” is what you remember him telling you one morning, when you woke up for the first time in his bed, wired headphones connecting you both as the dpr live track overtook the cozy atmosphere.
every now and then you and seob glance at each other from across the salon, to which you both begin breaking out into big smiles and rosy cheeks. your nail technician carries on with replicating the reference nails you showed her to a T, but not without silently noting the heart eyes you and jongseob shoot at each other everytime your eyes happen to lock. this time, he mischievously motions for you to glance at your phone, a quiet “ding!” from your cell grasping both you and your tech’s attention.
[seobie ᥫ᭡]: you look so pretty right now baby, i’m so excited to feel your nails in my hair later lol
[seobie ᥫ᭡]: and maybe scratching my back too ;)
[seobie ᥫ᭡]: omg that was so embarrassing im so sorry please look away plead im so bad at this fuck
you look away from your screen embarrassingly fast, flustered and avoiding any eye contact with both your loser boyfriend (who is wallowing in his own embarrassment) and the woman now raising her eyebrows in front of you as she waits for your nails to cure under the uv lamp.
she is so making fun of you for that next time.
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“andddd we’re done! just go wash your hands and your boyfriend can pay at the desk. he looks like he’s gonna flip if he isn’t holding you in some way in the next two minutes and i really don’t need to witness that.” she exclaims, not without exaggeratedly rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
you begin to fully assess your fresh new set of acrylics, now topped off with a sparkly clear coat. your nail tech even added some oil to your cuticles to try and make up for months of self-inflicted damage. after a minute of observing, you hum in approval, deducing happily that your boyfriend is going to love the colors you chose: tangerine with hints of cherry red to subtly match with his hair.
“perfect, just like always. thank you so much!” you say while handing her a generous tip, to which she holds out her hand in refusal and shakes her head. “no tip today, just go spend some time with him, i’m so happy for you y/n, seriously.” she replies kindly. you give her a hug to say thanks and tuck the cash back into your purse, turning and making your way towards the chair your boyfriend is currently occupying as he watches you with a warm smile, hands crossed in front of his chest as he holds back a laugh.
“what’s so funny?” you question as you approach him slowly.
“i called her beforehand and sent her a tip for you, i knew you were gonna try to pay somehow.” he giggles as he stands up. you scoff, but deep down you know you should have known he would outsmart you like this.
“i can’t believe you! i’ve told you a hundred times before that i don’t want you to spend your money on me!” you try to reason with him, to which he cuts your frustration off with a simple “who’s going to take care of you then, princess? now show me your nails!” he says as he hovers his hands in front of him, a signal for you to follow suit so he can observe the result of the previous two hours of work.
you decide to drop the subject for now and let excitement take over once again at his request, bouncing up and down whilst placing your hands atop of his palms, not allowing him to speak before you explain that “they match your hair, see? i asked her to do orange and red ombre!! and i know you love stars so i also asked her to add little golden star studs on my pinky nails! what do you think babe?” you half squeal out at him, clearly awaiting his approval.
“you did this for me?” he asks.
you deflate a little, dreading the small chance that your next words will result in an underwhleming reaction from him. “well yeah, sorry if it’s weird, i just wanted to do something nice since you offered to accompany me even though you would just be sitting in your chair for two hou—” he cuts off your anxious rambling with a strong kiss to your lips, followed by both of his palms covering the sides of your face to pull you impossibly closer. you gasp from the sudden movement, and just as you close your eyes to reciprocate, your boyfriend pulls back to show you the prettiest smile you have ever seen on his face.
“i guess you like them.” you sheepishly respond, holding back a smile equally as large.
he just replies by peppering your tanned skin with tangerine flavored kisses, each peck accompanied with the words “i love you, i love you so much”.
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you and jongseob finally step out of the salon hand in hand, the cool air blowing onto your faces as you squeeze your interlocked fingers. jongseob presses on the pedestrian call button with one hand as you both anticipate the streetlamp to shift to green. you fill the comfortable silence with giggles and the occasional kiss to the cheek the entire commute to the subway, uncaring of prolonged glances from onlookers. words are only spoken an hour later when you’ve finally enter the warmth of his (and practically your) bedroom. jongseob turns towards you this time, clearly not as timid as he was hours before, smirking while pronouncing,
“in case you were still wondering, that offer from my text earlier still stands…”
it’s your turn to roll your eyes and shut him up, tugging him roughly towards you with the front of his stupid hoodie as your mouths connect with an urgency you’ve never felt before, the pair of you hurriedly falling on top of his bed as your nails make contact with his scalp.
𓇼⋆。˚
in the quiet of the night, considered by some as early hours of the morning, jongseob holds your bare frame tightly against his own as he strokes his hand along your freckled back. your warm breaths tuck into the small crevices of his chest as your tangerine tinted nails draw hearts lightly into his skin, and with that, the two of you gradually lull into a peaceful slumber, but not before you look up at him and whisper,
“i did it for you.”
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a/n: mwahahahahahahahaha it’s finally out.. thank u for being patient!! it was honestly so motivating to see that despite the fact that so many people had never read my writing before, their love for jongseob made them crave this fic soooo much LMFAOO we all are so down bad for this man it’s a bit insane. anyways like i said i haven’t written for years so this was short and a little choppy but i tried my best and hopefully i’ll get better with time ^_^ anyways i’ll be finishing up my next fic soon and then i’ll start working on requests!! thank u for reading, it means a lot to me <3
please do not repost my writing!
tags:
@chuuswifereal @angelcbf @lakoya @zendieya-8 @bambispostsblog @saturnh0ney @theyluvsosa @youresolivlie @woozixo @www90kitsch @sirenla @ihatewreckingballmains @curiousgworge @haileyyey @khfviq @highkeyadumbasslmao @lovebunnys-world @astro-doll-the-star @kyokopi @meowmeowjang @imma-penguin1 @sophia-is-tiny
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floatyflowers · 5 months
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Dark Platonic Father! Tarzan x Reader
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After your ship crushes, you find yourself abandoned on an island.
Of course, it's scary for a three year old child to find herself all alone, without her mother.
So, all you did was enter the jungle as you wail for your parents.
"Mama!"
Your cries attract the attention of wild like a certain leopard.
Fortunately, Tarzan was watching you from far, amazed to see a human child.
Before Sabor the Leopard could attack you, Tarzan jumps in and attacks the beast to protect you.
He ends up killing Sabor and saving you.
Tarzan picks you up and places you in his arms just like how his mother, Kala, did when he was upset.
"It's going to be alright now"
You didn't understand what he just said, but you felt safe in his arm, his embrace felt like your father's warm one.
On the other hand, Tarzan felt excited to find someone like him.
He picked up the dead leopard with his free arm and places it on his shoulder, as he returns back to the apes.
Kala is surprised when she sees you in her adoptive son's arm, hiding away shyly.
"Hey, did you have a child in secret?"
This was Terk's first question after the apes celebrate Sabor's death.
"She is not my daughter, I found her in the jungle alone"
Apparently, that didn't please Kerchak at all, but Tarzan insisted that you needed him.
Adding to that, Kerchak agreed after seeing Sabor's dead body.
Tarzan took it as a chance to finally have connection with his own species.
You didn't know how to speak his language, you just giggle when seeing him speak like the apes and other animals.
Kala also accepts you with open arms and so does Terk.
Starting to forget your language, you begin to act like him, imitating his walking and trying to speak like him.
Your adoptive father takes you in his arms and slides on tree branches just to hear your happy giggles and see your childish excitement.
For him, you are everything.
Your life was going on well with Tarzan, beginning to think that he is your father.
However, everything is ruined when Jane arrives with her father, and 'Clayton'.
You see Clayton happens to be your real father, so imagine the shock when you saw him after many months.
Tarzan feels anger and jealousy when Clayton picks you and hugs you, happy that you are alive.
Yet, the ape man won't allow anyone to take his 'daughter' away from him.
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weirdlookindog · 10 months
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Bela Lugosi, John Carradine, and Tod Andrews in Return of the Ape Man (1944).
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writingoddess1125 · 6 months
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Darling I am SO SORRY for adding yet another request to the already enormous pile but OH MY GOD your buggy family saga keeps me thinking! The way buggy wants to have daughters! The way the twins have regular noses but CONSIDER!!!! him and his lady having a baby girl and AHHHH she got his nose!!! Little cherry baby! At first he's so afraid because of his own I security and then he's DETERMINED that his baby girl will never feel that shame or I security neverrr
Cherry Babies 🍒
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- Support me on Ko-fi please, For Ramen 🍜
- Old Man Series
• Buggy is head over heels in Love with his Daughters. Ari and Ali- has shown them off to everyone and holds them constantly.
• "Look at my daughters! They are so beautiful! Makes your baby look ugly!" He laughs at a random villager-
• You having to apologize and just explain he's excited-
• Calls them a host of Nicknames like with the Twins. The boys he always calls Peanuts or Double trouble.
• For the girls he has adopted Cherries or Bubble & Squeak. Mainly due to Ari Seeming to always be blowing spit bubbles which he has to clean and Ali being the more vocal of twin and making a host of random noises.
• He trains Dee and Bee more- Wanting them to learn how to protect their sisters and guard them.
• Speaking of the boys, They love their sisters. At first they were jealous assuming that the babies would steal all of the attention, That was till they returned from the ship after your labor and found that you would be in deep recovery from the birth. So Buggy was dealing with the girls mostly- thats when the boys decided to help their father till you were better and fell in love with them just like Buggy did.
• The twins had become massive helps to You and Buggy. Often without even needing to be asked-
• A few weeks after the birth Buggy walked into the nursery to check on the girls and found Dee asleep leaned next to the crib were the girls were and Bee asleep on the floor.
• Buggy had never felt such a strong swell of pride before and picked up the boys and tucked them into their proper beds that night. A smile on his face the whole time
• If anyone mentions their noses- GOES APE SHIT
• A nurse was the first one to be on the end of this treatment- It was there one month check up and the Doctor had given the clear the girls were happy and healthy. He had brought his assistant a young male nurse with him to help with things like weighing both twins and documenting results.
• Buggy caught his eye staring at thier noses and his eyes narrowed dangerously. The nurse fucked up though when he said 'Do we check the noses?.. was that normal?"
• The Doctor and you knowing that there was no stopping Buggy as he screamed in the Nurses face and proceeded to beat him to death-
• He will constantly be paranoid something Is wrong with the girls.
• "(Y/N) Why is she crying like this?" He panics as he holds Ari who is crying hard. You walk over calmly to see the man on the verse of tears as you do a quick check over and touch her rounded stomach which immediately leads to a dart and her quieting down.
• "She just has gas-" Buggy stares "Oh-"
• When the twins open their eyes and start to look around Buggy is overjoyed. Especially when he sees they have his eyes, Is immediately swooned.
• AKA HE THROWS A PARTY
• Buggy of course had thrown another party, Like he did with all his kids it seemed. Dee figuring out how to read the maps- Party. Bee making his first Bomb- Party so now that the girls had opened their eyes- PARTY
• It's a massive event with his entire crew involved. Food, Music, Drinks, the works.
• You catch him buzzed off his ass swaying to some music while holding the twins against his chest. You go to protest and scold him- But notice he is actually levitating by his ankles to keep from tripping as well as using the baby scarf to hold them up.
• It was oddly cute? Here was this pirate, high bounty and nasty reputation red in the face singing along to the music while holding his daughters.
• Ari is wide awake looking around at all the new things while Ali is peacefully asleep cuddled into Buggys chest.
• When he turns you see Bee asleep on his back, like a piggyback ride.
• You of course snap the picture of Buggy holding three kids at once.
• Will want to set back to sea by the Girls 3rd month and has the ship ready by then. He knows its difficult but feels safer on the sea then on land ironically as well as He has been on this island for a year and doesn't want to lose his reputation.
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saintmeghanmarkle · 2 months
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William’s masterclass in playing the press and maintaining privacy
From u/canellelabelle on X @ canellelabelle Unarchived link
TL;DR
William got injunctions to stop press publishing the grainy pap photo of Catherine. They issued their own (photoshopped) image. (Catherine supported him by issuing the apology).
The press issued the Kill order to the photo so the press can’t publish it.
W&C own the copyright to the original and only photo.
70m+ people have seen it on Twitter
Full article text:
The masculine Jawline and broad shoulders match the defiant and headstrong attitude indeed. Nature never makes a mistake📷 In the Past 24 hours the press finally went to Head with Prince William and it was a long time coming📷
Since his youth, William has evaded the press. With Catherine, they hoped they finally had the weak link; they now realised: Only Iron cuts Iron. Catherine is as headstrong, private and loyal as William is📷
So after 2 months of literally harrassing this man in articles and hate campaigns for a picture of HIS wife and getting nothing, the paparazzis supported by the World press, decided to invade the couple's privacy and capture some intrusive shots.
The World press wanted to publish them but Prince William, via palace lawyers, exerted tremendous pressure on the british press, AP, Reuters, Getty and AFP, to NOT publish the illegal pictures📷 That was a massive win for William that annoyed them to no end. Thus, they expected something Big in return..like the rights to Catherine first picture📷
To their dismay, the Wales pulled another historic blinder: Not only did they not get advance notice of the picture, but Prince William himself took the picture of his family, in the intimacy of their Windsor home, and Catherine edited it and posted it with her personal message for mother's day📷
That was a massive play; The press was robbed of their oportunity to make huge money by having rights to the picture and Now the picture was getting huge exposure on the Wales pages without any need for the world press. They got played on BOTH hands📷
So the World press decided to teach William a lesson and decided to retaliate with all their might, issuing a discrediting "Kill notice". They DEMANDED that not only the picture be pulled from their publishing papers but that the Wales DELETE THEIR OWN FAMILY picture from THEIR OWN SOCIAL MEDIA over THEIR OWN EDITING. They even put a community notes on X and restrictions on instagram against the picture📷📷📷
This crucial moment in the history of publishing house is where William officially BROKE the world press📷 The Fact that they were so livid at his continued evasion despite, their very public bullying tactics, that they had to out their own game is a Win📷 We witnessed the world press band together over "editing" issues, to bully a Man into serving his own wife on a silver platter for their consumption because she makes them big money📷
What happened next is another lesson in evasion tactics: Catherine once again took to X clarifying that she made the edits to their picture and politely apologising for the confusion while wishing everyone a good Mother's day as she had. One would think, "oh she caved". Not quite📷she pulled another blinder. Catherine is not asleep, she is fiercely backing William📷 The Press did not want an explanation, They WANTED W&C to hand them the Original of the picture so they would finally publish it and make money of it📷 William and Catherine said "Meh"📷
The same Picture with the same edits, William's now iconic picture of his wife and family, is the ONLY clear picture of Catherine. It is STILL UP, the community note and restrictions have been removed. It is Now the ONLY source of the picture. No one made money off It. The pic has now over 72 million views in 24 hours on X📷
So All in All, who pulled the blinder and came out victorious?📷 Prince William is still in control of his Wife's privacy as the world still doesnt know anything about Catherine's diagnosis or what is truly going on; The press is still mad and was still burned on both ends: No pap pictures published and no first pics of Catherine published📷
THESE are the defiant actions and the defiant face of the son who has learned from his mother's mistakes; from witnessing her trials with the press to losing her in a paparazzi car chase and swore to himself: 'Never Again'📷
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author: WorthSpecialist1066
submitted: March 12, 2024 at 09:03AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit
disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.
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frankendavis · 2 years
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luxaofhesperides · 1 year
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those who serve.
Running away from Amity Park—from his entire dimension—Danny takes refuge in the streets of Gotham. It's hard, suddenly being a homeless teenager in such a crime-ridden city, but it's better than dying a second time.
Enter Alfred Pennyworth, a kind old man who works as a butler who, for some reason, has decided to befriend Danny.
His future is still up in the air, but he's hopeful that things will work out. After all, Alfred isn't getting any younger and someone needs to help him with his butler duties. Danny's just the right person for the job.
Or: Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need.
read chapter one on ao3 or below the cut.
Technically, Danny doesn’t exist. 
He has no papers, no records, no family in this dimension. It’s a blank slate, a fresh start where he can be anything he wants. That doesn’t change what he is, however, and Danny is just another lonely child living on the streets. 
In Gotham, he’s not a hero or a threat; he’s just another nameless face passing by, another teenager with no support system and no future. Just a figure clinging to the alley walls, head bowed and hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. It’s not great, far from it, but it’s better than the alternative where he—
—parading around in the corpse of our son! How dare you! Wearing his face won’t save you from what we’ll do to you! Leave Danny’s body so we can bury him, leave him! I’ll tear you ap—
This is better, is the point. Out of the frying pan and into the crime ridden streets of Gotham. Not quite a fire but close enough.
No one is hunting him down in this dimension, at least. He’s ignored and left to his own devices, wandering the streets only when the sun’s gone down and slipping into grocery stores after hours, invisible, to get a few things to eat. It sucks that he’s resorted to stealing to survive, but at least he’s surviving. 
Survival is the entire reason he ran from his own dimension, after all.
He’s been here for two and a half weeks now, getting acquainted with the streets. Every day is spent hiding and trying to endure the crushing loneliness and grief of losing his entire life. He’s still half alive, yes, but the life he lived has gone up in flames, torn to pieces under his parents’ attacks. He can’t even blame them for it; under the circumstances, with the limited understanding they had, it’s only natural that they would try to kill him after discovering that Danny Fenton, their son, died two years ago.
Understanding doesn’t stop the sting of betrayal, doesn’t soothe the ache of being chased away from his family, but it’s something. 
It’s all he has, these days.
There’s no one to hide from, no one who knows him at all, so Danny wanders, more ghost-like than he’s ever been before. People give him a wide berth at night, never making eye contact and walking by faster. 
Save for one, of course. One person, at dawn, who always seems to find him no matter where Danny’s wandered that night. 
He introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth. The British accent caught Danny off guard enough that he stopped and turned to face the man, who stood a few feet away, umbrella held over his head. 
“Are you quite all right, my boy?” he had asked. “I have a spare umbrella if you would like to keep from getting any more soaked.”
It took a few tries for Danny to find his voice after a week of not speaking a word. “No,” he rasped, barely audible over the rain, “I’m fine.”
He walked away without another word, thinking that was the end of it.
It wasn’t.
Alfred returned dawn after dawn, never staying longer than ten minutes, trying to make small talk with Danny. 
Danny, for his part, had no idea why this random British man had decided to make friends with a homeless teenager, but figured that he was just a lonely old man with no family left. That, Danny could understand. So he’d stay for a bit, listening to him talk and occasionally replying, then say his goodbyes when more people began to emerge onto the street. 
Two and a half weeks in, Alfred finally asks Danny for his name.
“Why?” Danny asks, shifting where he stands. He doesn’t exist here, but it doesn’t stop his instinctual need to run from anyone who goes looking into him. The GIW don’t exist here, no one is hunting him down. There’s no information about him in this dimension that can be used against him. It’s hard to remember that, not after he’s spent the last few years trying to keep ghost hunters from finding him. 
“I feel it’s rather rude of me to speak to someone I have never properly greeted,” Alfred says. He always speaks so calmly, as if there’s nothing in the world that can shake his composure.
I don’t exist here, Danny reminds himself, I’m safe. 
“Danny.”
“Danny,” Alfred repeats. “A fine name.”
“Thanks? It was my first birthday present.”
The stupid comment makes Alfred smile, just a little, so Danny calls it a win instead of beating himself up over having zero control over what his mouth says. 
There’s more movement along the streets now, Gotham beginning to wake up with storeowners getting ready for the day and morning shift employees heading out to let the night shift go. It’s just about time for them to part ways until the next morning, and Danny’s resigning himself to another day of loneliness. 
His short conversations with Alfred are really all he looks forward to. It’s nice to hear about the man’s time in England, his work as a butler, his opinions on American cuisine and the like. He never presses for a response and he doesn’t try to dig for more information about Danny. Just talks to him, then says his goodbyes. 
“I’ll let you go back to your day,” Danny says, pushing off of the wall he’s been leaning against. “See you around.”
Alfred nods once. “Very well. I do hope you get some rest today, Danny. You always look very tired when we talk. I hope I haven’t been keeping you from sleeping.”
“Oh, not at all. I just have insomnia. Better to have some company than just lay around wondering why I can’t sleep, you know?”
“Indeed. I shall be off then.”
“Yeah, alright,” Danny says. “I’ll see you tomorrow once you somehow track me down again. Are you sure you don’t have magic?”
Alfred shakes his head with a small smile. “I am quite positive I do not have magic. Perhaps we simply have similar ideas about where the best places to walk are.”
“Sure,” Danny says, drawing out the word. “Whatever you say.”
Truth be told, the first few days, he was scared that Alfred was somehow tracking him down. For what, Danny didn’t know. Maybe he wanted to harvest Danny’s organs? Sell him to an evil scientist to be experimented on? Induct him into a mob?
Alfred didn’t do any of that. He just showed up, talked for a few minutes, then went on his way. He never followed Danny, never asked strange questions, never did anything besides chat about his life and his work as a butler. 
It honestly was fun to listen to. It’s clear how much Alfred cares for his employers. Before meeting him, Danny had never really thought of butlers beyond being an outdated job for people too rich to do their own chores. Now it’s interesting, learning all the things a butler has to do and why Alfred chooses to do them. 
He still doesn’t have a favorable opinion on billionaires. Too many bad experiences for him to view them is any unbiased light (thanks for that, Vlad, but eat the rich either way); still, it’s nice to know that this family looks out for Alfred. They give him a place to live, a family to live with, a reason to stay. 
It would be nice if Danny could have those too, in any way that he could. He’s at the end of his rope, struggling to stay and not surrender himself into the Zone and be done with the living realm entirely.
Even his Obsession isn’t enough to sustain him. There’s no one to protect here; honest to god vigilantes patrol the streets of Gotham to keep it safe. Danny isn’t needed here. 
There’s no place for him at all.
Already, his mood is plummeting and all he’s done is take a few steps away from Alfred. It doesn’t bode well for his future, whether that’s what’s to come in the next few hours or the next year.
Sighing, Danny ducks his head back down and begins his search for someplace to bunker down for the day. There are quite a few empty buildings around, newly constructed but not yet in use. He doubts there’s any security installed yet, so he should be safe to settle in and catch some sleep before the sun goes down. 
Just as he turns the corner, he hears someone running. They’re behind him and he tenses, ready to disappear so they can’t get him. 
It’s not Danny they go to. It’s Alfred.
“Hand over your wallet if you want to get out of here alive, old man!”
Shit, Danny thinks, spinning on his heel to get back to Alfred. He rounds the corner to see a mugger jabbing a gun at Alfred’s temple. He looks angry, nearly shaking, and there’s a strange shine in his eyes.
Drugs? No, not important. What’s important is that Alfred is standing still, as calm as ever, with his hands lifted in the air. 
“Hey!” Danny yells, sprinting towards them, “Back the fuck up before I rip your tongue out!”
Fear and anger push him on, his Obsession whispering protect protect protect in his ear and he closes the distance between them.
The mugger barely has time to move the gun away from Alfred’s head, and no time at all to point it at Danny, before Danny tackles him, slamming him onto the ground. He rips the gun out of the mugger’s hand and tosses it carelessly to the side. 
“Don’t touch him,” he hisses. Faintly, he’s aware that his features are shifting, becoming a little less human. The snarl building in his chest has his teeth sharpening, bared in warning. 
The mugger trembles beneath him, thrashing weakly. “Alright, alright! Just lemme go! Let go!”
He doesn’t want to. Danny wants to hurt him for daring to go after Alfred, the one good light in the dark, the only person Danny cares about in this dimension. He wants to make this man regret his choices, make him terrified for the rest of his life, break every bone in his hand so he can’t ever pick up a gun again. 
A hand drops onto his shoulder. 
“That’s enough, Danny,” Alfred says. His voice is stern and Danny can’t help but listen, effortlessly pulled out of his adrenaline fueled rage. His humanity returns to him. “There we are. Come now, my boy, stand up.”
He stands. The mugger scrambles to his feet and runs away. 
With the danger gone, Danny can think clearly again. He takes a few deep breaths and locks his ghost-half away as tightly as possible, keeping the cold in his chest buried deep. It was good for scaring away a mugger, but he doesn’t want Alfred to think he’s a monster. 
He can handle a lot, but not that. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking over Alfred for any injuries. There’s no telling that was done to him before Danny got the mugger away from him. It may have only been a moment, but Danny knows very well how quickly a moment can change a life (or take it away).
“Quite. In fact, I am sure you are in worse shape than I am, at the moment.” Alfred gestures downwards and Danny follows his gaze to his knees, where his already worn jeans have new holes in them. His knees are skinned from how hard he slammed into the ground, a dull ache he hadn’t noticed until it was pointed out to him. 
“It’s fine,” he says, “I can barely feel it.” 
Alfred gives him a hard look, as though he thinks Danny is lying; he’s not, the pain is barely there. He’s had a lot worse in the past. He can handle skinned knees easily. 
“Well,” Alfred says, “Thank you for coming back to help me. If there’s anything I can do to pay you back—”
“No. I don’t… I didn’t do it for payment. I don’t need anything.”
“I would like to—”
“No,” Danny interrupts again. “No payment. I just did what was right. Don’t make this a big deal, please.”
Alfred sighs. “Very well,” he concedes, looking more tired and worn than Danny’s ever seen him. “I shall not keep you any longer. Until tomorrow, Danny.”
He looks as though he expects Danny to take the out, to leave immediately. Danny shifts, not meeting his eyes as he doesn’t move. 
“I’ll walk with you,” he mumbles. “So no one tries to hurt you again.”
Danny’s worried that Alfred will insist on going alone, that he’ll have to go invisible and follow along when he isn’t wanted, but Alfred is kinder than that. Alfred doesn’t refuse or insist he go on his own. No, he smiles and thanks Danny for his consideration before taking off, making sure that Danny walks besides him rather than behind him.
They don’t talk much. Alfred seems to know that Danny isn’t much for words at the moment, sticking to his side and constantly surveying their surroundings for any danger. He walks confidently through the streets as though he wasn’t just held at gunpoint, carrying on with his morning with the same stubborn spirit that keeps most Gothamites from giving up on their city. 
Alfred visits a small bakery first. They’re not yet open, but the owner props open the door when they arrive, waving them in.
“Alfred!” she greets cheerfully, “And I see you have someone new with you.”
She looks expectantly at Danny, who shifts uncomfortably under the attention. He can’t get his voice to work, can’t figure out how to get the right words out.
“Ah, yes,” Alfred says, smoothly drawing her attention off of Danny. “This is Danny. We often talk in the morning and he has decided to accompany me today.”
“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Yurica. Alfred and I enjoy some tea together in the mornings before starting with our days. Why don’t you join us?”
“I don’t… mean to intrude,” Danny manages to say before Yurica waves off his hesitant refusal.
“Nonsense! Any friend of Alfred is a friend of mine. Come, come, let’s get the two of you seated. You’ll get the first picks of the day, once I get the last batches out of the ovens.”
She leads them into the bakery, past the kitchen and upstairs into a small sitting room. Danny follows them, unable to leave without seeming rude. He joins Alfred on the couch, awkwardly perched on the edge as Yurica bustles around, disappearing down the hall. 
Distantly, he hears the sound of running water and a stove top being turned on. The clinking of cups follows, along with the opening and closing of cupboards. It almost sounds like home, when Jazz was setting herself up for a long study session to make sure she’s prepared for college. 
Without noticing, Danny relaxes back into the couch. He keeps his eyes closed, just listening to the movement around the building; it’s soothing white noise that chases away the constant ache of loneliness he’s been carrying these past few weeks. 
“Quite the relaxing home, isn’t it?” Alfred asks. 
“You come here every day?”
“Not every day, but a few times a week. We’re old friends and are often up before anyone else. It’s nice to catch up for just a few minutes, especially at our age.”
He wonders if this is what it feels like, spending time with grandparents. He never met his own, could never relate to the kids who were always excited to spend time with their grandparents over the holidays, eager to be part of a bigger family. It was fine, before, when it was just him, Jazz, and their parents. 
It was fine. 
It didn’t last.
Yurica returns a few minutes later, carrying a tray full of cups and a teapot made to look like a fat cat. The sight of it makes him smile, almost distracting him from noticing the way Yurica and Alfred share a Look. 
“Here we are,” she says, setting the tray down on the table. She lays out the cups before Danny can offer to help, pouring out fragrant tea with a steady hand. “Cream? Sugar?”
Alfred adds cream to his own cup while Danny shakes his head, quietly thanking her for the tea. 
He cradles his cup in his hands, savoring the gentle warmth while Alfred and Yurica chat. He tunes them out, letting their voices fade into background noise. 
This is the most relaxed he’s felt in months. It’s sad to think about, so he tries not to, but it lingers in the back of his mind. 
Time passes without him noticing. Danny sips his tea until his cup is empty, then sets it down on the tray. That seems to be a cue that Alfred was waiting for, long done with his own cup, and he stands, thanking Yurica for her hospitality. 
She waves it off with a smile before Danny can echo the sentiments, then ushers them downstairs, where trays of freshly baked pastries fill cover the counters of the bakery’s kitchen. 
“Here, take your pick!”
Danny’s about to refuse when she shoves a paper bag into his hands. “Go on,” she says, “Take what you like. I always offer to friends and I find refusal to be rude.”
Now that she’s said that, Danny can’t keep refusing or he’ll feel awful. Alfred is already picking out a few pastries himself, so Danny trails after him, taking three pastries that look good. It’ll be enough to tide him over for the next two days, so he won’t have to steal any food. 
“Thank you again, Yurica,” Alfred says, “It’s always a pleasure to chat with you.”
“Oh, you’re always such a sweet talker,” Yurica laughs. “I’ll see you again soon, Alfred. And you, Danny, are welcome here whenever. Even without Alfred. My doors are open to you.”
Yurica is kind. She sees him in all his scraggly, worn down glory, clearly homeless and with nothing to offer her, and she doesn’t turn him away. Instead she welcomes him in solely because he’s here with Alfred. 
It’s enough to have him blinking back tears, ducking his head so they don’t see how much this affects him. 
“Thank you,” he manages, then hurries to follow Alfred out the bakery. 
Yurica waves at them from the door as they make their way down the street, then goes back in to continue preparing for the day. 
Alfred walks around some more; he informs Danny that he has no errands to run at the moment and no one else to visit. Danny follows, keeping an eye out for anyone who might think Alfred is an easy target. He barely pays attention to where they go until they enter an underground parking garage. 
The weak lights and stillness of the garage, along with the fact that it’s almost entirely empty, makes a fissure of unease race down his spine. This would be the perfect place for Danny to be knocked out and taken away; no witnesses, no help. 
But Alfred wouldn’t do that. Danny wants to believe that Alfred wouldn’t do that. 
He stops when Alfred pulls out a set of keys from his pocket. A black car in the back corner of the parking garage unlocks with a quick flash of the headlights. That is… an expensive looking car. It’s not an obvious luxury brand or anything, but it’s high quality and clearly made for people with money. 
Guess being a butler pays well, Danny thinks. 
Alfred opens the door, but doesn’t get into the car. Instead, he looks to Danny.
“Will you be alright, Danny? If you’d like, I have a first aid kit in the car that we can use to tend to your knees.”
“No, it’s fine. Thanks, though,” Danny says, trying to keep from tensing up too obviously. 
“And you have a place to stay?”
“Sure do,” he lies. 
“If you ever need help, you are welcome at Wayne Manor.”
Danny nods, intending to never go to the manor. He’s not going to risk another rich person trying to either 1) kill him or 2) make him their son. No way. Not in this dimension. 
Alfred looks him over, then nods. He gets into the car, offering Danny a quick goodbye. Danny lifts a hand in return, then leaves the parking garage, holding his bag of pastries close to his chest. More people are starting to fill the streets, starting the day, and Danny still hasn’t found a place to hide until night. 
He’s kept Alfred safe during his dawn walk. He’s safely delivered Alfred to his car so he can drive to wherever he needs to go.
There’s no point in him sticking around any longer. 
Hood up, Danny hurries down the streets, ducking into alleys to avoid being seen by people. It takes half an hour to reach the empty buildings he was considering before, and then just a minute to go invisible and fly up to the roof. The door going inside is locked, but a little intangibility goes a long way. 
Danny makes himself comfortable in one of the many empty rooms, back to the wall, and pulls out one of the pastries. It’s not as warm as before, but it’s still soft and flakey. The glaze on it sweetens the bread and it’s the best thing Danny’s had since he first arrived in this dimension.
This can’t go on, he realizes. 
All this squatting and stealing. It’s just not sustainable. He’s been acting as if he’s died again, left to haunt the streets of a city he doesn’t belong in. He’s spent all his time either sleeping or wandering, wallowing in his own misery.
No more. This is a second chance. 
There’s no ghost hunters. No GIW. No need to be a hero when so many already exist, willingly taking on that burden. Here, Danny doesn’t exist, which means he can be anyone he wants to be. 
And in order to live this new life, he’ll need a job. He’ll worry about school once he’s able to save up some money and find a place to live. 
Step one to getting his shit together: find a job that will take on a homeless teenager who doesn’t legally exist.
He’s already got one in mind; Alfred does keep offering to help in any way he can, and he’s made working as a butler sound fulfilling. 
Serving isn’t quite protecting, but it’ll be close enough that he can satisfy his Obsession. 
The pieces are falling into place. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes this plan. 
He’ll ask Alfred about it when they next meet. Everything else can wait until then.
(“Are you sure you’re okay, Alfred?”
“Quite,” Alfred says, smoothly stepping away from Bruce’s fussing. “Danny scared the mugger away before he could do anything.”
“I’m glad he was there. Are you sure I can’t go meet him? Thank him in person?”
“You’ll only scare him away, I’m afraid.”
Bruce sighs, reaching for his cup of coffee. “What about as Batman?”
“That will only be worse, I’m sure. Not everything can be solved by putting on a mask, Master Bruce.”
Tim enters the kitchen, drops a tablet on the table in front of Bruce, then collapses into his seat with a groan. “I can’t find anything on him. Are we sure he’s real?”
“I assure you he is very real, Master Tim.”
Tim lifts his head to give Alfred a bleary, assessing stare. “I know we always rag on B about his adoption problem, but he got it from you. You’re not going to stop until you get this Danny guy into the Manor, right?”
“It’s either that or setting up a home for him in Gotham.”
“Bring him here,” Tim says with a yawn, putting his head back on the table, “Now I’m curious about him, too.”
“I shall do my best, Master Tim. I shall do my best.”)
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bittenbyyou · 11 months
Text
Smitten
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High School!AU | Peter Parker x Reader
genre: fluff
description: Just Peter Parker falling for you and coming up with the silliest plan to talk to you more.
word count: 1.8k
warnings: some Spider-Man Homecoming spoilers, Peter being a dork lol
a/n: Hello! This is my first time writing for Peter and I’m such nervous posting it, but I adore him and thought the origin story of how my bf and I got together suited Peter so well. Lol. So enjoy! 
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The first time Peter heard about you was in freshman year when you were ranked number one in academics, earning jealous stares from everyone. But not from him; he was rather impressed.
Sophomore year was when your name came up again through his ex-girlfriend, Liz. Turns out you were her partner for an English project, which he didn’t think much of. He was happy with Liz… until he defeated her dad, who turned out to be a villain called “The Vulture”, and she and her mom moved to Oregon afterwards…
Anyway, it was now junior year and for the first time ever, he had a class with you—good ol’ AP U.S. History. 
“Dude, over here,” Ned called out from the first row of seats near the back corner. Peter smiled at his best friend and made his way over, taking the seat behind him.
“Hey Ned.”
“So glad we have another class together.”
“You said it.”
The two made small talk until you arrived, taking the seat next to Ned. He was mutual friends with a lot of your friends, so you felt comfortable sitting next to someone you were at least acquainted with rather than a stranger.
“Hi Ned,” you said sweetly.
“Oh [Y/N], you’re in this class too? Nice!” Ned gestured a hand towards Peter. “This is my best friend, Peter.”
“Peter… Parker, right?” you asked. Peter was surprised you knew his full name, but then remembered Liz. He nodded his head a few too many times, but you found it endearing. 
“Y-Yeah. Hi.”
“Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m [Y/N].”
Wow. You were cute.
“Sup losers,” a deadpanned voice said from behind you. You turned around to see MJ, jumping out of your seat to give her a big hug. 
“MJ! We’re in the same class, yay!”
“I know you’re not hugging me this early in the morning,” she said with her index finger raised. 
“You know you love me.”
“Ew.”
She gave you two pats on the back and you let go, giggling at her expression of faux disgust. You returned to your seat, which was in the middle of MJ and Ned. MJ then quickly whipped her head around to look at Peter.
“Sup Parker,” MJ said with a salute of two fingers.
“Hey MJ.”
“You met [Y/N] yet?”
“Yeah, Ned introduced us… you know her too?”
“Met her in an elective. She looked lonely.”
“You make me sound like a loser with no friends,” you said, pouting your lips. 
“I have no friends either.”
“You have me!” you chirped.
“And what about us?” Ned asked, gesturing back and forth to him and Peter.
“Whatever,” MJ brushed off. The three of you laughed while Peter watched, feeling somewhat left out even though he was mentioned. 
“I’m a bit jealous. You all already know each other,” you said. Wow, you said exactly what he was thinking. They knew you, but he didn’t.
“Well the only person you don’t know is Peter and I only met him because of the decathlon. He’s really not all that interesting,” MJ said, smirking in his direction. 
“Are you serious? Peter’s the coolest,” Ned said, hyping him up like a true best friend. “Peter knows Sp—”
“Dude!” Peter exclaimed, hinting at him to shut up with his deadly glare. 
Ned chuckled nervously. “I mean… you’ll get to know him, [Y/N]. And he’ll get to know you.”
*Ding!*
Saved by the bell.
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From that day on, the four of you grew closer. Group work was always in teams of four in that class which worked out perfectly. Peter quickly learned you hated presentations because you would freeze up and trip on your words, so he volunteered to present instead just to hear you thank him and flash that sweet smile.
At lunch, Ned always invited you and MJ to join him and that’s when Peter learned how passionate you were about food. Specifically the school’s chicken alfredo. 
“It’s delicious!” you said, doing a little happy dance after eating a forkful of pasta. 
“It’s gross, processed food. Do we even know if it’s chicken?” MJ asked, eyeing the meat on her fork suspiciously. 
“I don’t care, I’m still eating it,” you said, enjoying the noms. 
“Aren’t you lactose intolerant?” Ned asked.
“That’s not stopping me.”
“I’m lactose intolerant,” Peter said without thinking. Everyone stared at him with a variety of expressions. MJ was skeptical, Ned was confused, and you were surprised. 
“I literally saw you eating ice cream yesterday,” MJ pointed out. 
“And his bowels paid for it,” Ned lied. Peter let out a nervous laugh.
“Hah, yeah, I was on the toilet… for hours.” You placed a hand over your mouth, trying your best not to laugh. “But I’m fine now!”
“Are you sure you should be eating lunch today then?” you asked. “Wouldn’t want your bowels to hurt again. I’ll do the honors of reducing food waste and eat it for you.”
MJ and Ned stared at Peter. Well, MJ was daring him to eat it with her piercing eyes while Ned gave him a knowing look.
“You can have it,” Peter said warmly, sliding his tray of food over to you.
“Yay!” you cheered. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Because honestly seeing you eat and doing that happy dance again filled him up more than any food could. You were too cute.
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Peter was sure of it. He definitely had a crush on you. It took him until almost the end of first semester to realize it, but he knew now. 
He liked how smart you were. The way you answered any question the teacher threw at you so flawlessly was a mystery to him because history bored him. 
He liked how funny you were. The way you were passionately defending why mayo was the superior condiment against MJ and her love for ketchup made him die of laughter. 
He liked how kind you were. The way you helped another girl plan a dance for her quinceanera despite having so much homework. 
He liked how cute you were. The way you fell asleep in class after being the first to finish your test. 
He even liked how clueless you were. The way you knew absolutely nothing about Star Wars but still allowed him to ramble on and on about it in class and listen to him with a caring heart. 
Yup. He definitely liked you. 
A lot.
But he didn’t know how to tell you. You two didn’t hang out outside of school at all and he was so darn shy. It wasn’t until he and MJ hung out at Ned’s place one day when an opportunity arose. You were invited to his house as well, but you declined because of some projects you left till the last minute. 
The trio were building Legos and at one point Ned had to go downstairs and help his lola cook dinner while MJ and Peter remained upstairs. She was sitting on Ned’s bed while Peter was on the floor continuing to build the Lego Death Star. 
“I’m going to give you some advice, Pete,” MJ started to say. Peter looked up at her in confusion.
“About what?”
“About [Y/N].”
His eyes started to wander around the room. “W-What about [Y/N]?”
“What do you think about her?”
“What do I think a-about her? What’s not to think, she’s sweet. She’s nice. She’s kind.”
“Those are synonyms.”
“She’s smart. God, she is so smart, and she gets my jokes and actually laughs at them and—”
“Yup. You like her.”
His face fell. “No… No… No~.”
“So should I call her for you?” She whipped out her phone and Peter panicked.
“Don’t!”
“Why not? You have got to talk to her.”
“I do talk to her.”
“Outside of school,” MJ specified. “I have her number if you want it.”
“No, she’ll find it weird if I text her out of nowhere.”
“So you’re going to continue staring at her when she’s not looking like a total creep?”
“I don’t… I don’t stare,” Peter mumbled. MJ rolled her eyes at his denial.
“You do,” she teased. “Look, I’m going to the restroom. Here’s my phone. Do whatever you’d like with it.”
If Peter was a creep, then MJ was a psychopath because who would let anyone use their phone so freely? He still took the device from her hands and waited until he was alone to tap your name in MJ’s messages. His heart was racing at the thought of having your number, but he didn’t feel ready for it. 
So… he did something else.
5:44 PM | MJ🖤: Hey 🙂
Yikes. He really was a creep.
5:45 PM | You 😇: Hi MJ! What’s up? Did y’all finish building the Legos?
Peter smiled to himself at your enthusiastic greeting. 
5:45 PM | MJ🖤: No, not yet. Ned left us to help with dinner. How are you?
Your next reply didn’t come as fast this time. Peter panicked, wondering if he said something weird. Then again, this whole situation was borderline crazy.
5:49 PM | You 😇: I’m doing my homework. It’s so boring. Wish I was with you all. 🥺
5:50 PM | MJ🖤: We wish you were here too. 💖
Peter saw the thought bubble with three dots pop up, eagerly waiting for your reply. 
5:50 PM | You 😇: Hey MJ… I have a question.
5:50 PM | MJ🖤: Go for it.
5:50 PM | You 😇: Who are you? Lol.
Shit. Shit. Shit. You knew. Oh my god, Peter’s life was over. He got up off the floor and started pacing around the room in panic. 
5:51 PM | You 😇: I know you’re not MJ… so either you stole her phone and I’m going to have to report you for identity theft or she let you use her phone. 
5:53 PM | MJ🖤 : Okay, it’s Peter. Don’t report me. 🥺
He held his breath for your next response, facepalming himself for getting caught so fast.
5:53 PM | You 😇: Peter, why are you pretending to be MJ? If you wanted to text me, I could’ve just given you my number. Haha.
5:53 PM | MJ🖤 : Wait, really? I’m sorry. Idk why I did that.😅
5:53 PM | You 😇: Yeah. Here’s my number XXX-XXX-XXXX. Please text me as yourself. Lolol. 
Peter had the biggest grin spread across his face as he fell onto Ned’s bed in relief. He couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. By some miracle he did it. He got your number… he actually got your number. 
“Why are you staring at my phone like a creepy serial killer?” He looked up to see MJ leaning against Ned’s door frame. 
“Uh… I got her number?”
“How?”
“... You’re going to kill me.”
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jexnkookie · 2 months
Text
BTS: In the Secret (Idol! Jungkook x Reader) [Chapter 4]
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Summary: Big Hit announces a new season of In the Soop with a twist; one lucky Army is going to join the members for an entire summer of filming, picked by a random poll. You were selected, and ready to have an amazing summer. But what happens when you win something else that's a bit more complicated; the heart of the group's maknae?
Rating: M (18+)
Chapter Warnings: None.
Tag List: @cassies-cookies @hoeinthehouse @jjeonjjk7 @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @leetha43 @rrosiitas @whoa-jo @1-in-abillion 
The rain tapped gently on the glass of the windows while Jungkook helped you position the large, chunky throw blanket you had brought so that you both could be under it. The room was dim, only lit up by the glow of the television and a lamp in the corner of the room. Your pale pink blanket was draped over Jungkook and yourself while you sat on the couch together, staring at the image of Robert Downey Jr. on the screen. 
There were so many things Jungkook wanted to do in this moment. He wanted to talk to you, to ask you if you had really slept in his sweatshirt all night just like he hoped. He wanted to touch your hand, which increasingly felt as though it had a magnetic pull, enticing his fingers to come closer and intertwine with yours underneath the cover of the blanket. He wanted to pull you in close to him every time he saw your eyelids start to become heavy, and encourage you to lay your head on him and rest. He wanted to know why you were so tired, and if, just maybe, you had stayed up all night thinking about him, too. Just the way he had thought about you. 
Forever an idealist romantic, but too nervous to do anything he fantasized about in his head, he settled for the peacefulness he felt. The rain outside. The blasts of the action movie on the screen. And your presence right next to him, that seemed to drown out all of it. 
“Hey, Jungkook?” You whispered. 
“Hm?” 
“I don’t want to fall asleep, because I really want to hang out with you.” You confessed, looking up at him. “But for some reason, I couldn’t sleep last night… So if I do fall asleep accidentally, I’m really sorry.” 
The smile he wore was warm and gentle, showcasing his dimples and beautiful eyes.
“It’s ok.” He whispered back. “I won’t be mad.” 
“Ok.” You smiled back. Jungkook could get lost in that smile, and he hoped to see it as often as he could. 
“Hey, Y/N?” He whispered, playfully mimicking you. 
“Hm?”  
“Who’s your favorite Marvel superhero?” He asked quietly, and you couldn’t help but grin bigger at his boyish charms. 
“Maybe… Iron Man?” You thought out loud. “He always makes me laugh. What about you?” 
“Black Widow, because she’s hot.” He teased, earning an exasperated eye roll. 
“Shut up, you’re such a guy.” You laughed, playfully ‘slapping’ his toned arm. “But, fine. If we’re going off of that, then my pick is Captain America.” 
“Really? He’s your pick?” Jungkook tsked, overtones of a pout lacing his voice. 
“He has America’s ass, Kookie. C’mon.” You joked. “Be serious.” 
You noticed a change in Jungkook’s features, as though they were somehow able to soften even more than usual. His eyes became even more light, gazing at you gently. His pink lips were still upturned in a smile, and his dimples ever present. 
“I like it when you call me that.” He admitted. 
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You lightly flirted, just barely testing the waters, earning a grin in return. You both gazed into each other’s eyes, and you wondered if he could hear the loud way your heart was beating. He was beautiful, in every way. Obviously attractive, but beautiful in his silliness. Beautiful in the gentle way he spoke and looked at you. You wanted to lean in, to touch his lips to yours. The way his eyes flicked down to your lips, as well, hinted that maybe, possibly, he wanted the same...
...But suddenly, his phone buzzed, breaking the moment and bringing you both down to Earth. He sighed and mumbled a quick apology, glancing at the text on his phone. 
“It’s one of the staff members. They sent a warning about flooding.” 
“Flooding? Are we in a flood zone?” You asked.
“Not sure.” Jungkook played with his lip ring. “They said there’s a lake nearby and sometimes when it rains, it’s overflows. They just wanted to give us a heads up.” 
“Oh, ok.” You said before letting out a yawn. Jungkook looked up from his phone and saw your tired state as you went back to watching the movie in a desperate attempt to stay awake. 
This attempt failed, and rather quickly. Jungkook noticed you had fallen asleep, just like you didn’t want to do. But he just didn’t have the heart to wake you, especially when you moved in your sleep to rest your head on his shoulder, as though instinctively seeking him out. He refused to move, unable to stop the silly, schoolboy grin on his face while you rested on him. His heart was beating so loud, he was almost surprised it didn’t wake you. 
“Oh, Jungkookie.” A whispered, teasing voice giggled, cutting through the quiet room. Jungkook turned his head to see Hobi, smiling widely at the sight. “Is she asleep?” 
“Yeah.” He whispered back, blushing at being caught. “She just… kinda landed on me? I…I don’t mind though, y’know? Just don’t wanna wake her. s’all” 
Hoseok nodded, looking at the maknae knowingly but choosing not to put him on the spot. Jungkook will be honest the members in his own time, pushing him too much might cause him to run away from them and distance himself from you. He needed to let Jungkook get to know you first, and then encourage him to get closer. But, as it seems, the youngest member is doing quite well at getting closer to you all on his own. 
He then left the room, giving the two of you privacy, which Jungkook internally thanked him for. Fixing himself food in the kitchen, he was briefly interrupted by Taehyung and Jimin who came in for their own lunch. Hobi held a finger to his lips, alerting them to stay quiet, before motioning them into the kitchen. 
“Don’t go into the living room.” He whispered to them, knowing Jungkook can’t hear their conversation over the loud action movie. “Jungkook is in there with Y/N, and I’m giving them privacy.” 
“Privacy?” Jimin smiled suggestively, earning a look from Hoseok. “What’s happening in there?” 
“He’s not ready to admit it yet, because he still hasn’t said anything to her but… Jungkookie has feelings for Y/N.” Hoseok explained, leaning in to make sure Jungkook couldn’t hear him. “Don’t say anything to him, let’s just let him work things out, ok?” 
“Ok.” Jimin giggled. “Aish, he’s so cute. Even after all this time, a girl can get him worked up like this.” 
Taehyung stood silent while the other two cooed over Jungkook’s behavior. He thought back to Jungkook sitting there, watching as you leaned over to kiss him, and he felt awful. Taehyung wouldn’t do anything to purposefully hurt Jungkook, who was like a little brother to him. He had never even really felt anything for you, he only was carried away in the moment when you had kissed him. He knew you felt the same about him, when you rejected him at the door of your bedroom. Taehyung hated to think that maybe Jungkook heard any of that conversation that night, and he wondered how he would apologize to him for it once Jungkook was ready to talk about you to the other members. 
Just then, a pair of heavy footsteps came into the kitchen, silencing all of the members. Jungkook, unaware that they were in the room, had a still sleeping you in his arms, covered by your soft, pink blanket. His eyes widened, resembling a deer caught in headlights at being discovered, yet again, in a soft moment with you. 
“She, uh…” He stuttered, looking at the older members. “Her neck would hurt, sleeping on the couch like that too long. So I.. I thought… I’d just bring her back to her room…” 
“Good idea.” Hobi smiled warmly, not wanting to put too much attention on him. Jungkook scurried out of the house and held you close, going as quickly as he could to limit your time in the rain. 
“Oh my God, he’s in deep already.” Jimin giggled teasingly. Hoseok only responded with a grin while he shook his head. 
Next Chapter: x
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