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ratcatcher0325 · 2 years

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A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #7)

Chapter #7! It’s been a whole week of this tiny man’s stressful journey! Uh-oh! What awaits Alexander in the backyard?

Previous: Chapter #6

Next: Chapter #8

CW: Dehumanization, abuse, vore (kinda?), injury, blood, so much angst

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A FRACTION OF JUSTICE

Chapter #7: Backyard Matador

Word Count: 3,482 Read Time: Approx. 27 mins

[Alexander’s POV]

Suspended high in the air, and absorbing the shock of every giant footfall, I watched with a lump in my throat as I was carried across the house in exactly the same path I’d planned to follow to escape. We crossed the dining room and into the sun room, that creaky screen door whipping open with ease from the force of his much stronger arm.

Stepping into the yard, I caught glimpses of the once glorious garden, now rotten and neglected, as the ravages of age had kept the old man from tending to it. Golden sunlight pierced my eyes, as cold wind whipped across my face. I shivered, despite being trapped in a fiercely hot, clammy fist.

What was his plan? Would he toss me over the fence and leave me to fend for myself? Would he bury me alive? Drown me in the bird bath? Run over me with a lawn mower until I was ground to dust? I was truly mortified.

He seemed to notice my trembling, I was certain he could feel the breakneck pace of my heart thundering against his flesh. Locking eyes with me, he smiled wickedly. Like son, like father. Speaking of which, his two children were practically jumping up and down, unable to contain their excitement. I was beginning to understand why the Romans hosted bloodsport in their coliseums; humans were bloodthirsty savages! They couldn’t wait to watch me die.

“Daddy, daddy, are you putting him in time out for biting Aiden? He was bad!”

“Yeah, it’s time to say goodbye to Poindexter…” I broke, blubbering and crying, begging for my life. Without missing a beat, he just kept speaking, his voice drowning out my own without even having to raise his voice, “No more bad pets, for us. We don’t need a mean little desk decoration do we?”

“Nope! Bye-bye!” Jake’s chipper tone made me shudder. This was what was wrong with humanity. This was what I’d worked my whole life to fix. These humans valued my life no more than the worms beneath their feet. They actually got some kind of sick satisfaction out of ending it. But I was a person, just like them. I bled, laughed, cried, and dreamed just like they did. Why didn’t they see that? Or alternatively, why didn’t they care?

“Aiden. You wanna go show Sarge his new chew toy?” My blood froze in my veins. Not a dog. Anything but a dog. I was terrified of them, and for good reason. They were absolutely massive predators, with fangs sometimes as long as my forearm and they could chase after something small like me for hours before tiring. Besides, they saw chase as play, so they’d be having the time of their stupid lives until their victim was killed by the game.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the ten-year-old snatched me out of his father’s hand, pressing a hard and suffocating thumbnail into the soft flesh of my throat, making it impossible to breath, speak, or, most importantly, bite. I thrashed around but his grip was solid. He practically bounded into the grass, giggling the whole time. He held me up to his massive blue eyes, “I hope Sarge bites you right in half! Like this!” He stabbed me with a finger in the stomach, making me wince, and drew his nail across my abdomen to indicate his meaning. I wiggled loose, just enough to choke out a few words.

“Aiden, please… I’m a living being. I don’t want to die!”

He crushed my body in his fist, “Well you shouldn’t have lied or bit me!” Before I could say another word in my defense, I was tumbling though the air. He’d tossed me into the lion’s den (well, the den of Canis lupus familiaris, if you were looking to be accurate). The hard ground came up to greet my flailing body within the breadth of a few hurried heartbeats. I skidded across the lawn, dirt filling my mouth and eyes, before finally coming to rest. I bolted up, wiping my face to take in my new surroundings.

There he was. Like Cerberus with corrective surgery at the gates of Hades. An absolutely massive German shepherd, golden fur rustling in the wind. At the moment, he was paying me no mind. His massive head was turned away from me, as he devoured what appeared to be a gigantic bone, with bits of flesh still attached. Evidently, the old man’s son had brought his dog with him to the house. The bone he was grinding with his sharp fangs was bigger than I was. I trembled. I’d crash landed about five or so feet from the beast. Could it really be that simple? Could I just sneak past the preoccupied animal and slip through a hole in the fence never to be seen again?

I hunkered down in the grass, my eyes trained on the dog’s head. The slurping and crunching coming from his ravenous maw made my stomach flip. That’d soon be the sound of my spine being snapped in two, if I wasn’t careful. I took a few cautious steps, eyeing the fence line about ten feet from my current position. More than twice the distance between this dangerous animal and me. He was still deeply engrossed in his meal. My heart fled up to my chest.

Suddenly, a whiny human voice sounded over the grotesque gnawing, “Ugh, he’s not doing anything! This is boring!” I whipped over my right shoulder to see the three human beings huddled at the base of the weathered porch steps, leaning in, as if watching the final quarter of their favorite sport. It was a sport to them wasn’t it? They weren’t too far away. If I ran, they may be able to catch up to me with their ridiculously unfair gigantic strides. I was caught between two extremely dangerous threats. But there was no way I’d accept my fate lying down. I’d go kicking and screaming into the maw of the beast if that’s what it came down to.

“Just wait, boys. Just wait…” The maniacal tone in the adult’s voice filled me with dread. I had to get out of here! Maybe by some miracle, I’d gain enough distance before the dog gave chase. I was a sitting duck just cowering here. I took a few more cautious steps, trying to circumnavigate the dog’s body and keep myself as far from the head and snapping teeth, as possible. I crouched, keeping a low center of gravity. Another step, another. One foot in front of the other, you can do this. Another step. And then, as my left foot descended, the heel of my shoe made contact, not with dirt and grass, but with a twig, thin enough to break under my weight.

The sharp snap of dried wood seemed to ripple through the air like an auditory target on my back. Immediately, the dog’s massive pointed ears pricked up, its head rising to attention, its nose in the air. I froze in place, hoping against all odds the creature would lose interest and return to its far easier (and frankly more filling) meal. I could hear laughter in the distance. The show was getting good for my audience of three. Crouching, careful of any sudden movements, I picked up one half of the snapped twig. Something with a slightly pointed edge was better than nothing. The dog continued to test the air. As I rose back to my full, pathetic height, I suddenly found two round amber eyes locking on to mine.

Shaking like a leaf, I stammered, “G-good boy… Good dog… Nice dog…” At the sound of my voice, his ears pulled toward me, his head cocking from one side to the other. For all his lack of intelligence, I could see he was trying to understand how a human-like voice could be coming from something so small. Maybe he’ll just think I’m an extremely abnormal human….

Then black, wet lips began to peel away revealing bright pink gums and long, razor sharp yellow teeth. The beast came to standing, ten times my height, as his ears pinned back and a deep and throaty growl rose from the depths of his chest. I bolted.

Tearing across the lawn, the manicured grass about knee-high, swaying and rippling before me as my heels dug in to the soft, dry earth, I moved as fast as I possibly could. Heart pounding, chest heaving, I tried my best to maintain my balance, despite running in leather dress shoes that had no traction whatsoever… That’s what I got for being a housepet. I had only covered about a foot of distance, before the excited monster of a canine, thrilled by the game, gave chase. In the distance I could hear squeals of delighted laughter. My jaw clenched as tears welled in my eyes. I pushed myself harder, as I felt the chill of a black shadow behind me block out the light of the sun. I didn’t dare to look behind me. The dog barked again with its ear-shattering tone. I could feel my heart skip a beat as the sound wave tore through my body. As I ran, I saw I was approaching the garden bed, dried, sharp branches growing every which way. If I could cut over and dive under the dead bramble of long forgotten berry bushes, maybe I’d be safe from snapping teeth and deadly claws.

I darted to the right, straight for the garden. A human voice cut through the pounding repetition of blood in my ears, “Dad! He’s gonna get away!” Yes, you simple waste of oxygen, that is the goal.

“Not if I can help it. Watch this…” What was that supposed to mean? Moments later, a river rock, plucked from the landscaping by the porch stairs collided with my legs and I went crashing to the ground. “I told you boys your old dad didn’t win high school state champ as first pitcher with just sheer luck! I still got it!” I was nothing but dog food now. As I whipped over my shoulder, cowering in the dirt like the frightened prey animal the world had decided I was, I watched as a mouth as deep as I was tall, blot out all light, as the bared fangs inched just before my body. Still clinging to the stick, I waved it in front of me, aiming for his snout. The dog barked again, sending tremors through my spine, and making my ears ring. I thrust out my crude weapon only to be met with a horrible CRUNCH. With an easy flex of his jaw, he’d snapped the stick in two, mere millimeters from my fingers. I could hear human voices cheering the animal on, but I couldn’t register what they were saying. My eyes grew wide and before I could scream, the mouth had descended around me.

I was flung into the air, hot, rancid breath stinging my nostrils and eyes. I flailed around the moment I found my self losing contact with the ground, but it was abundantly clear I wasn’t going anywhere. I was caught diagonally, the dog’s right fang grazing my chest. I gripped this tooth as long as my forearm, in a fist, not that I would have much strength to resist if he decided to bite down. While my head hung freely, my right leg was being crushed between the molars of the left side of his mouth, teeth baring down directly on the fragile knee joint. I beat the dog’s snout with my free fist while I tried in vain to wriggle free, but this only made things worse. At this point, I had only been held in his mouth… Now, the real danger began as he violently tossed his head back and forth, biting down on my leg. I screamed. I heard a sickening CRACK. I was done for. I stayed limp as I hoped for a quick death. Maybe he’d bite down with the full force of his jaw and everything would just go black.

As I was being thrown about like a rag doll, I felt something press against my hip.

The lead piece in my pocket! The boys had managed to take away my case files but had never found my makeshift writing utensil. I had just sharpened it a few days ago, so the point was certainly strong enough to be effective. That is if it hadn’t broken yet and if I could even manage to get a hold of it. My world was an upside down, blurred mess of pain and fear but this singular hope helped to hone my focus. Still trying to keep the deadly fang from caving in my chest, I thrust my hand inside the mouth, trying desperately to feel for my pocket amongst the never ending surface of writhing, sticky tongue that undulated with every breath of this gigantic creature. With a hand covered in thick, viscous saliva, I managed to grip on to the pointed shard of lead. I closed my eyes, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t drop my one chance of survival as I was still flung about wildly, much to the delight and fascination of my audience. I could feel the muscles and bone surrounding my knee being torn to shreds as I reared back with the weapon in my hand. With all the meager strength I could muster, I thrust the point into the thick, hairy flesh of the dog’s whiskered muzzle. My blood froze in my veins for the split second in which the point buried itself in his skin. Would this tiny sting even phase my murderer or just make him more angry?

Then, an ear piercing yelp ended with me falling to the ground, landing with an almost inaudible thud. The dog, towering like a building over me, whined as he dropped to the ground, paws rubbing his injured snout, trying to get the source of the pain dislodged from his sensitive skin. I could see just a tiny jewel of crimson blood bubble to the surface on his blonde coat. My heart pounded as I recognized that I, an evolutionarily insignificant food source for most other animals, had managed to actually injure a beast a thousand times stronger than me. It made me, for a fleeting moment, feel strong. I felt… big.

My leg was bleeding significantly, the flesh torn away at my knee, my slacks shredded like paper. I couldn’t out run this beast. But I could trick him…. And now was the perfect opportunity, while he was paying me no mind. My brain worked at lightning speed as I cooked up a plan. Tearing the rest of my pants leg away from the bleeding, fleshy mass where my knee used to be, I held my breath to keep from screaming in pain. Once I had the fabric in hand, I soaked up the blood running down my shin before looking for a way to come to standing. There was nothing at all for me to grab on to, just knee-high grass within reach. Setting my teeth and flaring my nostrils, I stood, bending my broken leg and almost passing out from the pain that threatened to engulf me.

A few more swipes and it looked like the beast would dislodge the lead. Make that one more. My heart leapt in my throat. If anything went wrong from this point forward, I was a dead man. “Hey boy! Hey, hey over here! Yeah, you big, stupid monster, this is what you want isn’t it??” I waved the bloody fabric. His eyes sparked and his ears rotated forward. I had his attention. From here, I was only about five paces from the garden bed. I looked over to my right shoulder. It wasn’t just the beast I had to trick. I had to convince the three humans watching, too. If they didn’t think I was dead, they’d come scour the yard until they found me and then I’d be powerless to stop them.

From here, I could no longer see them, I was hidden by a small dip in the ground. Perfect. The dog licked his blood stained chops as he caught the scent of the bloody muleta I was waving to get this bull to charge. Fighting through the excruciating pain, I took painful, limping steps backwards. One. The dog leaned his head in, nose to the ground. He was about a foot from where I stood. Two. I waved the fabric high over my head. The dog’s eyes tracked it, as he barked again, excited to play. Three. He rushed forward, tail wagging. I tossed the fabric, as he closed the distance between us in the blink of an eye. Four. Five. I collapsed into the sharp brambles. He stopped to sniff the first round of bait. Even biting the grass, and coming up with the shredded rag between his teeth. But this little scrap was no delicious and enticing little prey with his writhing body and fluttering heart. I had seconds to pull this off.

I tore my blazer off, dipping it in my own blood, raking the torn flesh of my leg in the process. Tears sprung to my eyes. When it was nice and soaked, reeking of my scent, I balled it up as best I could and threw it as far as I was able. The dog was delighted, his fetching instinct kicking in, he watched as the delicious-smelling object careened through the air. I made sure to toss it low so it was still out of sight for the humans who watched with baited breath. Still, the dog’s head tracked it with keen eyes, before his snapping teeth descended around it. He collapsed to the floor, pinning the mess of fabric that vaguely resembled my shape between his paws and began to tear it to shreds, tail wagging happily. I swallowed hard.

Now was the time to disappear. I scrambled to my feet with the help of a nearby branch. As I rose to standing, I snapped this dead appendage off the ugly plant and used it as a crutch, limping through the dried plants. Staying close to cover as much as possible. Once I’d made it two rows over, I heard the ever more distant voices cry out, “Did ya get him, boy?”

“He looks like he’s chewing on something, Dad! I think he got him!” Then a sharp whistle, that made the dog’s ears perk. I didn’t stop moving, getting ever closer to the fence line. I knew precisely where the break in the fence was. I’d memorized every possible escape detail I could all those years ago when I’d first arrived here. I just hoped the gap I remembered was still big enough for my now adult body. I heard the dog trot obediently off, my bloodied blazer still stuck in his teeth.

“Good boy, Sarge! Such a good boy! Did you like your snack?” Hatred for these evil maniacs boiled in my veins. I spat on the ground in disgust. It was that easy and inconsequential for them. I wondered in five years’ time if they’d even remember me at all. What a truly evil race of beings to treat other intelligent, sentient creatures in this way. I was smarter than all of them put together, and I knew it. Grunting, as my knee buckled and bled, I ground my teeth and pushed onward. The gap in the fence came into view, as I hobbled forward at a painfully slow pace. I left the safety of the garden cover for the exposed strip of lawn. Although, as I approached the broken wood slat, which towered a mile over my head, stretching on into the ever darkening grey sky, I could hear the characteristic squeak of the screen door and human voices I hoped to never hear again. “C’mon, boy, come inside, you deserve a treat! Such a good boy!” The man loved his dog more than his own two sons, but, honestly, with those little terrors for offspring, who could blame him?

Good riddance, all of you. I’ll sue you in federal court one day, just you wait.

Barely able to fit through the crack, which, luckily, had never been fixed in twenty years’ time, I found myself on the other side of the property. Freedom for the first time in my life. I was owned by no one but myself. I felt a hitch in my chest. Not the time to get emotional, you’re on your own, which means no one is going to help that wound but you. Clenching my jaw again, I hobbled forward, finally taking my destiny into my own two hands.

#A Fraction of Justice #oc:alexander #g/t related #g/t community #g/t au #g/t #g/t angst #g/t writing #gtcommunity #gt #size difference

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mha-princess · 3 years

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Crossing Lines - Part 2/3 [Bakugou x Fem!Reader]

part one is here | part three is here

Genre: Angst | 18+ | College AU | Ongoing |

A/N: The next part will most likely be the last part, as I don’t want to draw this out to the point where it’s annoying (⁍̴̆◡⁍̴̆ )⊃♡- Anako

Word Count: 2.5k+

Warnings: bakugous an asshole/very minor violence/explicit language / mentions of sex

Summary: falling for Katsuki and keeping it a secret was easy, but still being secretly in love with him after developing a friends with benefits relationship is hard.

Masterlist | Request Rules | Request Box

“Wait how long has this been going on ?” Mina questioned shoving bits of bagel into her mouth.

“ A month....... maybe five.” You shrug standing up to throw your plate away. You had invited Mina over for breakfast to talk about what had happened last night between you and Bakugou.

“So you’ve been hooking up with Bakugou for that long? I didn’t even notice, well no one noticed, not me, not Kami, not Kiri. Speaking of Kami and Kiri, where are they? I thought you invited them?”

“I did. They can’t just walk down a flight of stairs to get here, not everyone lives off campus.” You giggle at her unawareness and sit back down at the kitchen table. Mina nods.

“So what did you say her name was.” Mina questions, It takes you a minute to recall.

“Hayami?” You say slightly uncertain.

“Hayami? Yeah that definitely doesn’t ring a bell.” A few minutes late you and Mina are startled by the slam of your door.

“Hey, Hey, Hey.” Kirishima announces happily strolling over to the kitchen table and taking a seat, Kaminari following behind him.

“Ejiro how the hell did you just get in here?” Kirishima laughs and holds up a key.

“Bakubro said he stopped by and he accidentally grabbed this when he left.” He said tossing you the key. “So how are my favorite beauticools doing today?”

“Not good we need help with something.” Mina says taking her phone from her pocket.

“If it’s anything about classes we can’t help.” Kaminari says taking Minas bagel and finishing it.

“It has nothing to do with classes, as if we’d ask you two himbos for help.” Mina rolls her eyes. “Do you guys know a girl named, Hayami?”

Kirishima furrows his brow. “Hayami? I don’t think I ever even heard of the name.”

You turn to Kaminari who also has his phone out.

“What about you, Nari?”

“One moment.” He walks over to Kirishima and hands him his phone, leaving you and Mina to stare at eachother.

“Ohhhhhh Hayami! I do remember her! We met her the night me, Kami, and Bakugou crashed the arcade.” Kirishima facepalms. “She gave us her number but I don’t think any of us ever reached out.”

Mina scoffs. “Someone did.”

Kaminari and Kirishima looks at you both confused.

“Come again?” Kaminari says setting his phone on the table.

“Yeah? Is there something we’re not in on? Why are you worried about her out of all people?” Kirishima questions leaning forward in his chair.

Mina then explains to them your situation. Kaminari and Kirishima look at eachother in shock.

“Y/N! That’s like rule number one of friends with benefits! You don’t question outside affairs!” Kaminari groans.

“I know! But I love him Kaminari and I need to know if there’s someone else. I still have hope. Hope that he might like me. ” You say pain evident in your voice.

“Well if it’s any help I think I have her Instagram.” He says taking pity on you and opening Instagram. After finding it he quickly flips his phone face down.

“On second thought maybe that’s not a good idea.” He laughs nervously causing everyone at the table to look at him confused.

“Kaminari let me see your phone.” Kirishima says, standing up from the table. Kaminari quickly grabs his phone.

“I don’t think that a good idea, really.” He says slowly backing away as Kirishima grew closer.

Kirishima lunges at him and in an instant Kaminari is pinned to the ground.

“Y/N, catch.” He chunks the phone to you. Your hands easily grasping it from the air. Mina comes over, peeking over your shoulder and immediately she sighs, yeah this was a bad idea.

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“Maybe it’s not what it looks like?” She says, blatantly ignoring the facts. Your eyes begin to burn.

Kirishima releases Kaminari from his hold and they walk over to you.

“He doesn’t even go to the cafe with us. He says it makes him look stupid to be in such a soft setting. But there he is with a girl. I mean she looks like his type. Cute button nose, black hair, brown eyes.” You clench your jaw, forcing back tears.

“Y/N don’t be like that! Your Bakugou’s type or else he-.” You cut Kaminari off mid sentence.

“If I was his type he wouldn’t be with her.” Tears streak down your cheeks and leave wet stains on the table. After a minute you get up from the table and grab a napkin to wipe your eyes.

“I’m sorry guys. I’m not his girlfriend I shouldn’t be upset.” Your friend come to your aid and crowd around you, engulfing you in a big hug.

“Don’t apologize for the way you feel babe.” Mina says.

“Yeah Y/N you have feelings. That’s only human.” Kirishima’s hold on you tightens a bit.

“And we’re always here.” Kaminari adds. After a few minutes of letting you bask in your sadness, they release you form their hold.

“Sorry for the hold up guys, but we need to get to class.” You chuckle and wipe the remaining tears from under your eyes.

“Yeah Mrs.Chu is always on me and Mina’s case about attendance.” Kaminari rolls his eyes at the thought of that lady.

“Soooo am I drivi-.”

“NO!” You all cut off Mina before she can finish. Today had all ready started off bad, and endangering your life with Mina reckless driving was the last thing you needed.

“I’ll drive.” Kirishima says grabbing his keys and opening the door. “Now come children, before we’re late.”

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The day couldn’t possible go by more slowly. You couldn’t remain focused due to your situation, the situation that you started I must stress. You know it shouldn’t be pestering you, but you just couldn’t handle losing Katsuki to some random girl.

From the beginning you found yourself drawn to Katsuki. Yeah that might sound cliche, but it was the truth. The ash blonde hair that was slightly unkempt, the red eyes that could cut deep even if you were just glancing, and a smirk that held so many inaudible warnings. He was unruly, but at the same time beautiful.His personality was arrogant and short tempered, but that just made him all the more alluring.

The unapproachable heart throb is what he was. Pretty in the face, but dementing and vulgar in many different ways. Ways that should've been a warning, but weren't.

When you first started hanging around Katsuki it was mostly kirishima's doing. He felt that all his friends should at least be formally aquantainted with one another, so some days you would have study sessions at your apartmet other days you would all would crash at the dorms. And every moment you were around Katsuki the more you were drawn to him.

One day Kirishima had left you two alone at the dorms to go re-up on snacks with Mina and Kaminari. Now this was most likely the only time you would be alone with Katsuki, so you took it upon yourself to ask him a couple of ‘questions’.

“Katsuki?”

“What?” he answers his eyes never leaving his phone.

The top half of his body hangs off the edge of his bed, his shirt barely covering his stomach.You go over and sit on the floor in front of him. Slowly, you reach up and run your hands through his coarse head of hair.

“The hell are you doing?” He questions, but doesn’t stop you from playing in his head.

“Can I ask you something.” The tone of your voice was soft but serious.

Bakugou then rolls over onto his stomach and throws his phone into the abyss of sheets beside him. He stares at you and the nervous you should’ve felt earlier makes it’s way into your body.

“You gonna speak or what?” He says annoyance leaking from his voice. You roll your eyes.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.” He responded rolling back over and grabbing his phone.

“Like you’ve never had one? No boyfriends, no girlfriends, no significant others?”

“I answered the damn question, no boyfriends, no girlfriends, nothing, relationships aren’t my kinda thing. The hell are you asking me this for anyway? ” He rolls back over, his eyes cutting deep into your thoughts.

“W-What about hookups?” Bakugou’s face goes blank for a minute before that cocky smirk makes its way to his face.

“Tcht is this what you were going on about? If you wanted some dick you couldve just said that.” His smirk grows as he watches you panic.

“We can hookup if that’s what you wanted to ask. But I have lines that shouldn’t be crossed.” He says rolling back over and chucking you his phone.

“Put your number in.” That cocky son of a bitch, not even letting you answer or explain yourself. I mean it’s not like you would’ve said no anyway. You hand him his phone back.

“Y/N wants to be fuck buddies with me? I didn’t peg you as the type.” He grins, his eyes burning right through you.

“Well you said you aren’t looking for a relationship, so I don’t see the harm in it.” You shrug. Bakugou nods in agreement, but raises a brow.

“I know I said I’m down but we can’t do any lovey dovey shit. This has to be strictly no feelings attached.”

Now, after he finished that statement a bell should’ve went off in your head. From that point you should’ve know that liking Katsuki wasn’t a good idea and hooking up with him would only lead to you hurting yourself, but clearly you were blinded. Blinded by the thought of him and blinded by the want of him because if you would’ve noticed you wouldn’t of still been sitting at your desk half dazed ten minutes after class had let out reminiscing about how you got yourself into this mess.

“Y/N, aren’t you going to leave, clearly your not staying behind for extra help, as you didn’t even write down the notes that were on the board.” You look down at your notebook, yeah it’s blank.

“I’m so sorry Mrs, I’ve had a lot on my Min-.”

“I don’t need your excuses, just get going so I can lock up.” You nod and grab your things. Upon picking up your phone you notice a message from Kirishima.

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Message

Kirishima :)

Ummmm please don’t bite my head off for this but something came up and I had to leave early, Mina and Kaminari have dance practice and I didn’t want you to be stranded.............. So Bakugou is going to take you home, be at the front of the school. Ok? Ok. Love you ttyl 😘

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Your mouth hung ajar at the message. Why? Kirishima why? Why would he set you up for failure like that? You sigh as you walk out of the school doors.

It took a few minutes before Bakugou arrived and when he did your day only worsened. As you drew closer tot he car it was clear that someone else was in he front seat. A black haired, brown eyed someone. With gritted teeth you open the back door of the car and chunk your stuff in not saying a thing.

“Hello!” The girl exclaims as she turns around in her seat, sounding way to preppy and happy about this situation.

“You are?” You say not the least optimistic, Bakugou glaring at you from the rear view mirror.

“I’m Hayami.” She smiles and holds out your hand for you to shake. You turn and look out the backseat window.

“What are you his girlfriend?” Your jaw clenches as her face goes red. You stop her before she can answer that question.

“Katsuki can you drive? I have somewhere I need to be.” Hayami turns around in her seat as Bakugou mashes the gas.

The drive is silent until Bakugou starts taking a bunch of unfamiliar turns.

“What are you doing my house isn’t this way?” You say sitting up in your seat.

“I’m dropping Hayami off first.” He says pulling into an unfamiliar driveway.

“Thank you Katsuki. We should do this the same time next week.” She smiles and he nods in approval. She then steps out of the car and shuts the door. He sits there for a minute.

“Are you going to get in the front seat or stay back there like a dumbass.” You roll your eyes.

“Fuck you.”

Bakugou quickly puts the car in reverse and once again begins taking a bunch of unknown turns.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” He doesn’t say anything, but a few minutes later you find yourself in a vacant parking lot. He then gets out and climbs into the backseat.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He says shutting the door.

“I’m not the one with the damn problem.” You cross your arms and look away from him.

Annoyed with the way you were acting his hand grabs a hold of your cheeks, pressing your mouth inward as his lips ghost over your ear.

“Your a fucking brat.” You pry his hands from your face.

“I’m not a brat your a fucking asshole. Breaking your own damn rules. Did you tell your little girlfriend how the night before you took her on a date you were just at my house fucking me? Or did you tell her how many times you ate my pussy in that front passenger seat? I bet she doesn’t know anything about that now does she?” Your voice bitter and slightly heavy.

“I’m not fucking her, unlike you she has the potential to be more than a fuck toy.” Yeah he shouldn’t of said that. Upon finishing his sentence the palm of your hand quickly made impact with the side of his face, causing a sound that couldve been heard if anyone was near by.

“Take me home.” Your choke as your eyes began to burn. But he doesn’t move he stares at you still in shock from the hit. This time you push him to make him gain contact with reality again.

“I said take me home!” You shout tears now fully rolling down your face. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s angry.

“Your fucking crazy Y/N. This, whatever the fuck we have going on is over. I don’t need your bullshit ruining what I have going on.” He says getting out of the backseat and back into the front.

The rest of the ride was silent. Bakugou was speeding clearly not wanting to be around you after slapping him senseless. Although you wanted to, you didn’t cry, you’d rather wait to release your tears when you got to the comfort of your home.

He slammed on the breaks as he pulled into tge front of your apartment complex. No words were exchanged. You simply grabbed your things and shut the door behind you. He didn’t apologize, hell he didn’t even look back to make sure you got into your apartment, he just drove off.

When you finally made it to the comfort of your room. A weird sense of pain hit you. It wasn’t the same kind of pain you felt yesterday, it was a unfamiliar pain. A pain so severe it caused your heart to physically hurt from your emotions that were running rampant.

A toy. That’s all you were to him and all you were ever going to be. Frustrated and a sobbing mess you take a piece of paper and a pen and begin to writing.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

People always say it’s better to have loved and to have lost, than to never of loved at all, but what if you’ve lost everything including yourself? What if you loved someone so much that you were willing to give them everything including your body, in exchange for nothing but a few minutes of being close them? Am I pathetic for wanting him to love me? Am I even more pathetic for having ignored the signs? The signs that he was no good for me. Bakugou Katsuki. The epitome of my pain, the epitome of my hurt, but the one I love most. It’s better to have loved and to have lost, than to never of loved at all, but I’ve lost all worth, all self love, and all reason to even try. ─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You fold the tear stained paper and slide it into your desk drawer. You then grab your phone and make a much needed call.

“Yes?”

“Is this Izuku?”

#bakugou x reader #bnha #shoujo #bakugou drabble #bakugou oneshot #ongoing #anime #katsuki bakugou #kirishima eijrou #mina ashido #denki kaminari #bakugou headcanons #mha princess #bakugou smut #bakugou angst #angst

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black-coffee-and-sugar · 3 years

Text

Azie killed it!!!

me praising a supergirl episode? i know, shocking. but 6x12 just came for me where i live! i knew it was going to be great but it surpassed my expectations. sister are really doing it for themselves! so many things to point out that were phenomenal but here’s what comes to mind rn:

- the camera work while kelly’s all distressed at the hospital, lil joey struggling to breathe, orlando looking so helpless > i was already stressed within 5 mins

- rankin literally saying “i’ll do everything i can to help these people” while rolling away to her private hospital room with access to trial medication when the residents of the heights probably don’t even have insurance or money to pay the bills. also rankin literally sucking the life out of this disadvantaged community, building wealth and pushing her political agenda on the backs of black people is the most realistic portrayal of true villainy that this show has ever given us

- kelly’s phone call to james in the stairwell, talking about how exhausting it is was so personal to me. i work in these types of communities all the time and it’s a hard fight. i get emotionally tired too. it does feel like screaming into the void, like one step forward and ten steps back. and i felt this for kelly.

- alex’s solution is to send respirators and nothing else? just makes me realize that while the super friends were protecting mxy and trying to capture nxyly, they were pretty much neglecting the heights. people who were literally dying and it’s horrifying to think of where their priorities lie. especially considering the fact that they could have handled the nxyly issue without alex so she can support her gf

- writer 1: how do we make the audience hate rankin some more?

writer 2: have her kill a guy for a sandwich on white bread. it’ll make her look like even more of an asshole

but seriously, what kind of psychopathic shit was that?

- andrea has always been portrayed a shameless capitalist who only cares about grabbing eyeballs but it has never been highlighted as negatively as it was in this episode in that phone call with kelly

- i think kelly reaching out to lena who isn’t even in national city really speaks to her desperation to have someone see her. someone hear her. someone fucking help and i’m glad she had at least diggle’s support

- that slim stack of bills is all it took for that woman to sell her soul to rankin? bruh...

- the super friends showing up to the heights, only concerned with tracking nxyly, not giving any amount of fucks about what kelly is trying to say enraged me. i know that was the point of the episode but STILL

- kara telling kelly that mxy can fix all this once they get him out of the crystal. what are you five? give me a goddamn break with this foolishness kara! so lil joey’s lungs are just supposed to hang on til whenever the fuck y’all save mxy? lena, please come and collect your wife

- kelly looking directly at kara when she mentions the word hope while dragging the super friends for their nonchalant behaviour > oof, a slap to the face

- i see nia had the one brain cell this week. she’s the only one who attempted to help kelly in whatever way she could.

- brainy really said racism is still a problem in the 31st century and it did not surprise me.

- seems like having tunnel vision is a danvers sisters trait. i get alex not being able to relate to kelly’s struggle but come on she’s your girlfriend. can’t you tell when she’s upset?

- i’m glad that they addressed j’onn choosing the appearance of a black man and how even though he may have been a target because of it, he still can’t relate fully to the experiences like kelly, james and diggle can. it’s optional for him. they don’t have that luxury to check out whenever it suits them

- kara talking about the anti-alien hate with the col and i would like to remind kara that she genuinely thought things were improving and that the division didn’t exist despite j’onn and brainy repeatedly telling her otherwise. because, once again, her physical appearance affords her privilege that no black person or visible alien will ever receive

- every kelly scene was so emotional i was bawling wtf. her talking about pushing her pain and anger down and trying to be positive and all smiles > 100% accurate

- i can’t believe i’m saying this but i did not need the lena scenes. they should’ve just kept those out. on the other note, magical amazon package delivery

- guardian’s suit is so fucking badass!!! i’m glad little black girls will feel SEEN and INSPIRED in this episode. thank you azie

- kara was really out there getting her ass kicked by a human who just got powers for a few hours? stop nerfing her abilities!

- the way we got an actual scene of kelly carefully wrapping her hair, the say her name t shirt, the books on the coffee table > well done azie

- alex and kelly in the final scene was a good portrayal of an interracial relationship where one partner wants to but just will never understand the issue fully. alex just needs to be there for kelly and i’m glad that they didn’t make it a moment to educate her white gf about racial discrimination. they kept the focus where it needed to be. i’m also glad that unlike the other soical justice topics we’ve had, they didn’t try to make it seem like something that is so engrained into the fabric of society can be wrapped up with a neat little bow and be done with. there’s more fighting to do but at least it seems like kelly will have the support going forward

- the promo after such a powerful episode gave me whiplash. back to our regularly scheduled nonsense i guess

This episode holy shit. man it was amazing. azie is a talented writer and it’s easy to tell that she was drawing inspiration from real and personal experiences. it was very easy for me to relate to these scenes, especially the hospital ones. also makes me annoyed because they’ve been wasting all this potential and this episode is proof that the show and it’s storylines can be nuanced and still include superhero aspects. too bad this episode will likely become one of few in this show’s entire run that actually accomplishes that.

#supergirl #kelly olsen #john diggle #dansen #supercorp

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utilitycaster · 3 years

Text

Skill Proficiencies are the Bedrock on Which the Success of a D&D Party Rests, Monks are a Utility Class, and Other Correct Opinions

This came up when I was thinking about the Cobalt Soul subclass and the discussion thereof, especially the dismissive way in which people sometimes treat the mystical erudition feature. I am also a bard player, in my longest-running game, and I prefer utility classes in general, so I decided to write a whole essay that maybe like 5 people will appreciate, two of whom are in my inbox (thanks for the encouragement, @ayzenigma and @agigabyte and one of whom is me.

In D&D, on a fundamental level, this is what happens:

A DM describes the world

You decide to interact with the world in some way

The DM decides if you automatically can do what you want, if you automatically can’t do what you want, or if there are a range of possible outcomes. If the last option, roll a d20.

The DM narrates what happens when you act or fail to act, ie, describes the new state of the world; the cycle begins anew.

The vast majority of those d20 rolls will be skill checks. Some will be combat rolls, which are a whole other thing, but most will be skill checks. Some will be incredibly important skill checks. Some will be relatively minor. Sometimes you’ll be aware of how important the roll is; sometimes you will not. Spells can sometimes guarantee or improve the chances of a success, as can some class abilities; but those are finite resources, and in the end a lot of D&D is resource management, and many of the choices you make in interaction are going to be influenced by what resources you have left.

Consider: the party comes upon a door with a single lock. The party is D&D four-person-party classic: a mage archetype, a thief archetype, a healer archetype, and a strength-based battler archetype.

The mage can cast knock to open the door. This does guarantee success, but it’s extremely loud and will not only alert anyone nearby but also uses a second level spell slot. They may be able to get around this if they or the healer also casts silence, depending on how you play it*, but that’s either another spell slot gone, or ten minutes wasted.

The battler can, for free, either kick down the door or attack it. This is also going to be very loud unless silence is employed, they might choose to use a finite resource (a once a day weapon ability, a rage) and even if this itself doesn’t alert anyone on its own, the big hole where a door should have been, or even the smashed keyhole, probably will.

The thief can, for free, pick the lock. Assuming they are specifically a rogue, because of their class build there is a very high chance of success, and specifically a high chance of quick, quiet, secret success even without additional help. And if they fail, well, the other options still exist and only a small amount of time has been lost.

Things like a single rage, or a second level spell slot, don’t seem like much on their own, but that is the other thing about D&D: usually you go to bed with some things left in the tank, but occasionally you do not, and as the resources get into the red line it is not terribly difficult to get into a death spiral of throwing your limited resources at a problem too large to be solved by them. When you’re in a game where, mechanically, there is no difference between having 100 hit points left and having 1 hit point left, but there is a vast chasm between having 1 left and having none, that extra second level slot worth of healing or damage can mean everything.

Or: at levels 5 through 8, with a cleric, the difference between an ally’s life and potentially permanent death is whether the cleric is left standing with one third level spell slot at the end of a battle.

This isn’t to say you shouldn’t use spell slots to achieve things, especially if they’re important; just that there’s a balance, and sometimes a single good thieves’ tools check, investigation check, or persuasion check makes just as much of a difference in terms of the party’s success as a high level spell, even though it’s far less flashy.

The game designers realize this. Older versions had the idea of taking ten: if time is not of the essence and there is no significant penalty for failure, you could take ten and guarantee an average job (which does still require some skill proficiency to take that assumed roll of ten to “pretty good”). This still remains in 5e in the form of passive checks. It’s a core element of the rogue and bard classes that they are people who are highly skilled - both have more skills than most classes and access to expertise, which significantly increases their proficiency bonuses and therefore reduces the chance of failure - and both have additional class features that either improve the breadth (jack of all trades for bards granting them partial proficiency in everything) or depth (reliable talent for rogues granting them a guaranteed average job) of those skills. Frequently, and especially for bards, this is not seen as a significant help, possibly because it rarely comes up in combat. This is wrong.

Here’s the thing: combat takes a long time at the table but in terms of what the party is doing, two minutes of combat a day (20 rounds, total) would be considered an incredibly difficult day. The rest of the time, you’re not in combat.

Here’s the other thing: how did that combat happen? Did it happen because someone failed a check - that a better stealth roll or deception check, perhaps made by someone with expertise in one of those two areas, could have prevented? Or if this conflict was inevitable or necessary, was the party able to use that stealth or deception to get a surprise round? Investigation, nature, arcana, or history to know a little bit more in advance about what they’re about to face? Perception or survival to even find the enemy they need to stop? Persuasion to gain an ally? All of these can make the difference between a success and a failure.

When you come to the end of a long-running D&D game, you will probably think back a lot to combat moments and RP moments, and unless it was one of those few clutch ability checks where you knew how momentous it was at the time you probably won’t think back to the dozens of locks picked without issue, or social encounters navigated with relative ease, but they’re going to be there, and you would have felt the strain without them.

This isn’t limited to skill checks, honestly; it’s a problem with almost all so-called fluff/flavor abilities. It’s interesting, in that the words we use to describe a well-built character are themselves quite neutral in terms of the specific build (min-maxed, optimized) but in practice many people assume these fit into one of two categories: the tank, or the glass cannon. Of course, those are combat-specific abilities, and see above with regards to combat. And maybe you are in a D&D game that is very much about combat and combat only, but if you’re not, that so-called fluff is far too dismissive of utility.

And monks, in particular, are more of a utility class than one would expect. Sure, they get a lot of attacks and they’re sort of tanks of the ‘too fast to hit’ variety and they can stun, but monks are utility in a negative-space sort of way.They don’t need your buffs, and a monk in your party, like a rogue who can pick locks or a bard who can talk their way out of trouble, saves your resources. They are incredibly fast, and don’t need longstrider or jump cast on them. They don’t need feather fall or fly because they run up walls and avoid falling damage. They don’t need to be healed, if they just catch the arrows that were shot and evade the area of effect spell; they don’t need a magic weapon (or any weapon); they don’t need a restoration to end effects, they don’t need protection from poison or disease, they save you the need to cast comprehend languages or tongues, they’re less likely to need a buff to help them save against other effects, eventually they don’t even need food or water. A monk, like a skill check, helps the party by saving finite resources. The Cobalt Soul build merely makes it a little more literal by granting the monk themselves the ability to make those skill checks.

In conclusion: skill checks are cantrips that everyone gets, and if a class got 8 cantrips when most others got 4, and they had an extra bonus to hit, you’d absolutely notice.

*per a quick search it’s up for debate based on the ranges of the respective spells and whether the lock needs to ‘hear’ the spell or not and anyway if this is what you choose to fixate on in this essay I cannot stress this enough: you have the reading comprehension of a slime mold and the sense of relevance of a Republican congressperson.

#i play a character with 11 skill proficiencies/expertises and yes it's as great as that sounds.#d&d #dungeons & dragons #way of the cobalt soul #no readmore we die like a party that doesn't utilize skill checks effectively

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jimlingss · 3 years

Note

hi!! for the requests, could I suggest hoseok, fluff, fake dating au, and the sentence 'I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.' thank you!

↳ Humdrum Amore

2.7k || 100% Fluff || Jung Hoseok

“I never thought I’d come back here one day.”

You stare at the brown building that you once dreaded. The same structure that you had to drag your feet into every morning five days a week after your dad dropped you off. But instead of feeling apprehension, there’s a sense of prickling nostalgia while you look at the building.

“Same.” The man beside you exhales, staring at the green field, the brown doors and small windows covered by blinds. “But it’s not all that bad, right?”

You turn to Hoseok who looks sharp in his simple suit and tie ensemble. You’ve seen him in the same clothes plenty of times, but while you’re wearing your red dress and you’re lingering in front of the school, it feels like the two of you have returned to being awkward eighteen year olds nervously going to prom together as friends.

But Hoseok eases you. “Come on.”

He takes your hand, a gesture you still aren’t used to, and tugs you inside.

The moment the doors are open, you follow the signs leading to the gymnasium and you’re met with a table of refreshments and goody bags. But more importantly, there are people already mingling in all corners. Some are wandering while most have gathered into groups to reminisce. There are those that you recognize and those whose faces have long faded in your memories.

High school. A time of pubescent years, of growing up and trying to prove yourselves while figuring out your future. You have mixed feelings about that time. All you know is that you’re glad it’s over.

“Y/N?” There’s a higher pitched voice to the left and you turn to see Tiffany approaching with a wide smile. “Hoseok?! Oh my god, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you guys! How are you?”

You hug her for a second. “It’s good. You?”

“Yeah.” She exhales as if she can’t believe you’re together again and you admit, it is surreal. There was definitely a difference from glancing at someone’s post, status and updates on social media and seeing them in person. “It’s been great. I didn’t know if you were coming to this reunion or not.”

You smile, glancing at Hoseok. He was right about coming. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Someone walks by with a tray of cheap champagne and all three of you take a glass, thanking the waiter. Tiffany sips her drink and gets down to the nitty-gritty. “So tell me, what do you do now?”

You brace yourself, knowing this was coming. “I’m working as an embryologist at a fertility lab.”

“That’s so cool!” Her eyes widen and she genuinely appears fascinated. “It sounds super fancy.”

You laugh, concealing the note of awkwardness in your voice. Tiffany doesn’t know that it sounds much better than it actually is. It’s an entire step down from being a family doctor, an occupation which you once said was your dream. And she has no clue that you’re struggling under your strict manager, that you just received a cut in pay and your hours are strenuous.

But you don’t dare show your exhaustion. Or your discontentment.

You keep flashing a bright smile.

Everyone in high school expected you to do great, that you would go somewhere, do something. You were the smart one. The hard-working one. There’s always been a certain burden of expectations on your shoulders from your parents to your teachers, and perhaps that’s where the need to prove yourself to your former peers stems. If they knew how mundane and regular and normal you turned out — instead of being the successful achiever — you’re sure their disappointment would have a bigger effect on you more than you’d ever admit.

And maybe that’s why Hoseok offered to pretend to be your partner for the night after you grieved about not being with anyone, when you struggled to find a plus one. He knows you best after all.

“What are you doing?” you ask Tiffany, and she hesitates, looking down at her drink for a second.

“Actually, I’m in-between jobs at the moment.” She musters a smile. “The economy sucks right now.”

You sympathize. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s hard to find a job these days.”

Tiffany turns to Hoseok and when she asks what he’s been up to, he says, “Nothing much. I’m working in IT as a development manager for this company.”

“Oh, that’s super cool too!” She’s about to ask something, but then her eyes incidentally stray downwards. You follow her line of sight, realizing that she’s looking at the way you’re holding hands with Hoseok.

“We’re...actually dating now,” you explain.

Instantaneously, Tiffany brightens. “You guys started dating after high school? When?!”

You laugh awkwardly. “Two...three years ago?” It doesn’t sound terribly convincing, so you try a second time, standing your ground. “Two, I think.” It falls a bit short, but she doesn’t notice.

No. Tiffany absolutely gushes. “That’s so cute! Oh my god! I always thought you’d both be good together!”

That has you taken aback. The relief of getting away with your lie and not being caught gets overtaken by surprise. “Really?”

“Well yeah. You were always close friends and everyone,” she emphasizes the word by drawing it out, “knew Hoseok had a huge crush on you.”

This was news to you.

But Hoseok outright ignores your stare in favour of smiling at your old friend and holding up your interlaced hands by your heads as if it’s a trophy. “Well, looks like I got the girl in the end.”

“Are you gonna propose any time soon then?”

There’s a glint of mischief in Hoseok’s eye. “Maybe.”

He’s way too good at lying. You’re starting to get convinced this is real.

“Aw, I wish I was at this honeymoon stage again. Everything’s so sweet and cute.”

Speaking of which. “Where’s Nick?” you ask.

Tiffany deflates slightly at the question and you wonder if you said something wrong. You don’t understand until she says, “Oh….yeah...we decided to split up a few months ago.”

“Really?” You would’ve never expected it. From what you remember, they were one of the few high school sweethearts that actually made it in the long run, a couple that you used to be jealous of at sixteen. They ended up getting married too and you saw pictures of them traveling together a year ago. Who knew what her life was actually like behind the scenes. “I’m...so sorry, Tiffany.”

“It’s alright. Life happens, I guess, but it all worked out in the end and we both have joined custody of Sunny. It gets messy sometimes but as long as she’s happy, I am too.” She smiles softly and then nods. “Well, it was really nice to catch up with you two. I’m happy to hear you’re going out. Better put a ring on this one before you lose her, Jung.”

“I will,” he promises.

Tiffany leaves to catch up with a girl she knew from choir, so you both bid your goodbyes. But somehow, the conversation leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

After greeting a few more old friends and acquaintances, you leave to the hallway.

The nostalgia slams into you, stronger than before. If you stare long enough, you can picture the hall crammed with your classmates, how you ran from class to class, sat in the desks, bored out of your mind and at times, stressed. The walls and rooms hold so many of your memories without them knowing. And that in itself makes you feel old and gray, even though you aren’t.

Not yet, at least. Hoseok always reassures you that you have another good thirty years before you’re allowed to call yourself old.

Said man glances at your expression and reads it like an open book. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You sigh. “It’s just….I don’t know. I was trying to save face this entire time and I even went as far as to lie about our relationship.”

“You didn’t do it alone. I lied too.”

“Yeah, but I wanted this.” You shake your head, slowly rounding a corner and making your way down what you remember as the science corridor. “People probably have more going on with themselves than to care what I’m up to. I don’t know why I was so scared about what they would think about me.”

The corner of his mouth curls, and he nudges you with his elbow. “It’s high school.”

You lightly scoff but a smile tickles at your lips. “I just feel bad. Tiffany was so honest about herself, and she wasn’t ashamed about how her life turned out, not like I am.”

“No one turned out how they expected themselves to,” he hums in a thoughtful tone while glancing at the bulletin board tacked with handmade flyers for clubs. “It’s okay if you didn’t end saving the planet or finding the cure to cancer.”

You snort and soften. “Yeah.”

Hoseok always knows what to say to make you feel better.

“Look!” The peaceful moment is interrupted by the sheer volume of his voice. He points down the hall. “Our old lockers!”

You laugh, quickening your steps with his. The lockers are not technically yours anymore, they haven’t been for a long time and have probably been through tens of students since. Even right now, there are unfamiliar locks that keep them closed. But you still remember which one was yours.

You stand in front of it and Hoseok stands in front of his which is only three lockers down from yours.

The pair of you look at one another, exchanging grins. “Remember when I kept your math textbook for you since you were too lazy to put it away and we had to toss it to each other every morning?”

“Yeah. I never missed once.” He laughs and it’s a bubbly sound that’s exactly the same as back then. “Remember that time Taehyung stuffed himself inside my locker and we locked him in?”

You burst out laughing. “We almost got into trouble by Mr. Min!”

“Yep. That old man was always trying to pick on kids.”

“Except for that time Jimin launched that cake across the hall and it landed on some poor girl. He was nowhere to be found.”

Hoseok grins and comes over to lean on the blue locker next to yours, crossing his arms like he’s waiting for you before you’re late for the bell.

A sentimental feeling that is both wistful and happy washes you over again. You can recall those years as if they were yesterday. Namely, Hoseok would always be there when you closed your locker door, in the exact same position, staring at you with that identical warm expression. You don’t know a lot of your old high school friends anymore, don’t know what they’re doing or if they’ll come. It’s a natural progression of life, of going different paths and naturally drifting apart.

But Hoseok has always been your side. Since then till now.

“So.” You turn to him. “What’s this about everyone knowing you had a crush on me?”

Hoseok goes wide-eyed and says nothing for a moment. Then he scratches the back of his neck. “Just stupid kid stuff.”

You raise a brow and hum. “Didn’t sound like stupid kid stuff. How long did you even like me for?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“I’m curious.” You shrug. “I never heard about this before.”

Hoseok is embarrassed, that much is obvious. You can tell by the way he’s brushing around the subject, not looking you in the eyes, how much he’s hesitating. It’s not like him and that makes you even more intrigued. “A while.”

Maybe you shouldn’t push him so much when he doesn’t want to talk about it. But for some reason, there’s a burning desire inside of you to know. After all, you thought you knew all of your best friend’s secrets.

“What’s a while?”

“Like sixth grade?”

Your jaw drops. “So when we met?”

“Yeah..?” Hoseok seems unsure and he’s staring at the other wall as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. There’s nothing but a dirty shoe print on it. “Something like that.”

Now it’s your turn to be perplexed. Although, for an entirely different kind of reason. “But why?”

He turns his head, as if sensing you’re about to self-deprecate yourself. “You’re funny and smart and pretty, Y/N. Everyone liked you,” Hoseok explains it as if it’s factual and your cheeks grow warm.

You suck in your cheek, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. “Then why didn’t you ever tell me you liked me?”

“I was awkward and I was too scared you’d reject me,” he exhales and you glance at him to find an unreadable expression. Perhaps he’s uncomfortable at the idea now that he’s grown out of it and he knows you too well. Or maybe...just maybe...he’s filled with regret.

You shake off the thought before your imagination runs wild.

You’re about to drop the subject once and for all, but as you turn away, the quiet mutter slips from your mouth, “I wouldn’t have.”

Hoseok catches it.

He freezes completely and when you realize he’s not following you back to the gymnasium, you turn around. “Earth to Hoseok. What’s wrong?”

“What about now?”

“What?”

His expression is blank aside from the slight furrow of his brow. It’s not often Hoseok’s entirely serious and you’re caught off guard by his demeanour. He closes the distance in three strides and asks, “If I asked you out now, if I said I wanted to date you for real, would you reject me?”

His gaze is dark. Intense. As if he’s mustered up the courage he’s built for years for this very moment.

Your mouth opens, eyes unable to look away from him and your voice pipes out a timid— “no.”

In an instant, Hoseok’s mouth is on yours. Your back slams against the lockers as he cradles your cheeks in his palms, tilting his head to capture your lips carefully yet eagerly. You whine in his grasps and quickly reciprocate, moving your mouth against his. It’s soft, warm and comforting. Hoseok has always been comforting to you. A slow burn rather than a bursting firework that eventually fades away. A warm bonfire that’s built from the first spark rather than a forest wildfire that ultimately burns out after consuming everything.

You’ve always loved him. But perhaps it wasn’t always purely platonic like you thought. At least not until tonight where that’s been challenged.

Hoseok's body is firm and warm against yours. His knee is placed between your thighs and you loop your arms around his neck to get him even closer. Your senses are filled with his cologne, the lingering scent of his shaving cream and shampoo. Hoseok tastes like the champagne he drank and you’re beginning to feel dizzy from it. That or you’re running out of breath.

You whimper rather pathetically, but he doesn’t let up. Not until you push at his shoulder and he has to gather his self-restraint to part from you.

You’re left panting heavily against him, lips swollen and Hoseok exhales before laughing. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

You grin. “Always?”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Practically.”

Never would you have thought Hoseok would kiss you against your lockers. It’s another memory you’re making in these walls even after years of graduating. But you’d like a second time to make up for all the others, so you start to tug Hoseok’s tie to get him closer again—

“Hey!”

There’s an ear-splitting shout and the two of you flinch, whirling around to the end of the hall.

“You’re supposed to be in the gymnasium!” Old man Mr. Min is bumbling towards you with a cane, his voice surprisingly still full of power even when he looks like a sack of bones.

“Sorry!” You duck your head and before he can catch you, your hand entwines with Hoseok’s. The two of you dash down the hall as if you were still trouble-making high-schoolers.

Hoseok mutters in complete shock, “He’s still alive?!”

And you laugh, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter.

You return to the reunion and your heart is a bit lighter knowing this time, you don’t have to lie.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenario #hoseok fluff #hoseok reader insert #hoseok x reader #Jimlings #Anonymous

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pixiedoodlein · 3 years

Text

10 days until school and I’m no more decided than I was a week ago. I flip flop ten times day about what might be best. A is sick of hearing me talk about it. He doesn’t disagree with my risk assessment but he is sick of talking about it.

It caused an issue with his friend, a friend who is his best friend and is unvaccinated and works in a jail. Months ago we told friend he could only visit (this place is their boyhood dream) once he’s vaccinated. Friend typically believes in science and is very health conscious but his gf is a moron Trump lover and her family the same and that’s who he’s been spending all his time with since this all started. When I asked friend why he’s not vaccinated he said he’s young & healthy, didn’t trust the vaccines, would do it when they got full fda approval. Plenty of young healthy people are dead of this. Anyway then I asked ok so what if you give it to someone who isn’t and dies, people incarcerated in the jail he works in and don’t have the luxury of social distancing, and he was like eh whatever. So yes friend is an asshole, but his best friend for decades, friend has always been kind of an asshole but has many redeeming qualities too. So we said no visit. But then in July when there was no covid here and no covid where he lives and we were blissfully living our covid free lives we loosened up and said he could visit with two negative tests. But then covid got bad again and when asshole friend contacted A the other day to say he took time off in late Sept to visit, A said sorry, it’s fully fda approved now you have no excuses not to vaccinate, we’re worried about our unvaccinated kids, and as of now you can’t visit but hey maybe if you get vaccinated and the numbers look better we can reassess in a month and you can come. Friend was a total dick about it, didn’t understand our point of view at all, stressed A about it, who was in a bad mood about it for days afterward.

Then there’s the neighbors. I had a chat with the kids and a chat with the mom. I framed it as we love them so much and I know they’re careful but I think we should all be more careful while the numbers are so rising (aka only outdoor hangouts) and we are careful but I’ve heard terrifying stories from doctor friends about kids and babies getting very sick, and they have a baby who I don’t want us to make sick, and she said she agreed. The kids have been pretty good about making the adjustment from constant sleepovers to playing outside but M keeps asking me “the kids need to pee are they allowed to use the bathroom, the kids are hungry are they allowed to come inside even for one minute for a snack,” and I feel like the villain (I’ve been saying yes to pee, snacks I’ll bring out). Everyone’s been understanding but nobody is getting what I mean when I say only outdoor socializing. All the kids keep asking me when I’ll take them to town again for ice cream, “but it’s outside” (um yeah but the car’s not), asking their mom to ask me for sleepovers even though they know what the answer will be. The other day they were playing in our yard then it started raining and they were like “we can’t walk home in the rain”- I don’t want them to walk home in the rain, but again the car is indoors!- so I drove them home (but made M stay at our house). They’re not my kids so I can’t make them wear masks and it feels like now I am in the position of being the mean parent who’s psycho about covid, which in a way I am, but it would help me to stick to my guns and feel okay about sticking to them if the government policies matched the severity of the situation, ie mask mandates in public places (instead of stores posting polite recommendations), vaccine mandates, virtual learning options, etc.

Which brings me to school. After selling M hard on real school, then I sold her hard on home school. She already “did” 3rd grade last year (as much as me teaching her in my pajamas counts as doing), but this district has an earlier cut off than the city, so she’s in 3rd grade again here. Which is fine by me- her birthday is the same day as the very late nyc cut off (12/31) and I hated that she was the absolute youngest. I used to beg the school to hold her back and they’d say “but why she’s doing so well!” not understanding that I was thinking ahead to the teen years. But anyway, despite her haphazard pj’d professor, she seemed to learn a lot last year so homeschool this year could basically be unschool. She’d traipse around the forest identifying birds and trees with A and her brother, reading for pleasure, and I’d spend an hour here and there reviewing some worksheets with her so she’d be on track when she starts real school after she gets vaccinated. She was into the idea, until she found out she and one of the neighbor kids are in the same class. Now she absolutely wants to go to real school, AND ride the school bus. The school bus part makes me very nervous. While there is now a school mask mandate (but will it be enforced? what are their lunch procedures, what % of teachers are vaccinated, what % of the older kids in the same building as the little kids are vaccinated, did they actually really update their ventilation system?) and a bus mask rule, it’s a long rural route (15 min drive or 45 min bus) and I have no faith that bus windows will be open and all riders will be masked the whole time.

So just tell her she can go to school but has to be driven by a parent, right? Not so simple. I was offered a job at a (somewhat, commuting distance) nearby nonprofit- an easy low stress job in a bastion of liberalism with very very nice smart coworkers, excellent work life balance, a writing job that sounds made for me, like the job description is exactly what I would put together if I were putting together my dream job (except the pay, which is half what I was making at a fancy DC nonprofit, but high for this area, and our housing cost is half so it should be fine if A can get away from little guy long enough to bring in some money too). It’s mostly remote but approx one day a week in the office and some days there will be things I need to attend out in the community (not necessarily our community, they serve the whole region). It won’t always be the same day in the office and the office is an hour away- so on those days A would have no car to get her to and from school, since I’d need to leave before school starts and get home after it’s done. So I guess we need to buy a new car? Aside from this issue we really don’t need a second car now, were planning to get one eventually, but not until A’s business has enough projects to justify the cost.

Despite its many demands/challenges/ stressors, home school is sounding easier to me at this point (especially because she already did this grade), except she WANTS to go to school. Someone talk me out of putting some lipstick and a pantsuit on her and taking her to get vaccinated. I know, I know: the 5-11 dosage is 1/3 of the 12-adult dosage. The doctors I’ve spoken to are split on this hypothetical kamikaze mission. The doctors I’ve spoken to are also split on me and A going to a pharmacy now for booster. It’s been almost 6 months since our 2nd dose. We do not have compromised immune systems. This county has way more doses than demand and I would feel better sending M to school (bus or not) if we had our boosters and she had a first dose- moral and scientific quandaries aside- because there is A LOT of covid here now, a lot of covid everywhere now, and I feel like we are returning to regular life at the time when we should be most hunkered down.

Which brings me to the data. Per capita there are as many known cases here as in nyc, except nyc has a 50% higher vax rate, much more mask usage, better medical system. People are not getting enough tests here, there is a higher positivity rate, and so I think the actual number of cases is much higher than the reported number of cases. It seems like, friends here and in the city and in the suburbs (I just broke up with a friend in the suburbs because she professes to be a good democrat but is hosting a bonafide super spreader event and vacationing in a place with 39% positivity and a collapsed health care system), are thinking of covid as something you catch from strangers- they wear masks in stores- but aren’t careful at all around close friends and family (so many extended family gatherings, so many, cousins and grandparents and half-siblings and aunts and uncles and whoever), when this is a disease that kills via the people you love most, the ones who’d never intentionally hurt you.

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yeocult · 3 years

Text

ATEEZ as students studying

HONGJOONG:

king of self-care! but studies for 15 minutes then take a 2 hour break and calls it self-care (omg he thinks he’s me or smth)

has power naps every single day at least 30 mins because he’s Stressed

always thinking of ways to drop out during the middle of lectures

that one kid that talks to nobody & sits at the back of the class with his hood on to hide his airpods

doesn’t do it anymore bc one time it disconnected and “there’s some whores in this house” blasted out loud & now he’s paranoid

shows up to group studies but lets the group carry him,,, but he puts out One Really good idea to get his name on the paper

only cares about topics he’s interested in, other than that he’s just astral projecting

“yo can you send me your answers so i can compare mine?” but he copies it and says “we got the same answers” (all men do is lie</3)

calculates his marks; “ok so i need at least a 80 on this...oh wait no, a 95...damn okay...”

the type to arrives late with ice coffee

SEONGHWA:

wakes up at 5 am to study instead of staying up

scented candles and lofi music for the ~studying mood~

a linguistic learner

learns best by teaching others so he’ll do group studies often to help other people

teaches people without making them feel dumb

uses grammarly for his emails with 3 paragraphs asking 1 question with a proper greeting and a ‘sincerely, park seonghwa’

professor: ok - sent from iphone

you’ll never see him during exams week, he’s Gone

a loyal user of the outline method

his desk must be cleared at all times! a clean workspace makes it easier to focus

brings extra pencil just in case anyone needs them bc he’s the sweetest person ever (he’s fully aware that he’ll never get them back but it’s okay bc sharing is caring)

does his readings on time (you’ll never catch him slacking)

actually has his shit together for the most part 1/2

YUNHO:

writes “i love you” or “sorry” at the end of his tests (that he bombed)

the type to ask you to print “just one thing real quick” and it’s 15 page and at 2 am

uses emojis like :D & \(^o^)/ when sending emails to his professors

has a bad habit of copying word for word on the slide and he doesn’t actually understand/learn anything

goes to the library bc he thinks that’ll help him be in the ~studying vibe~

it doesn’t. ends up texting or watching youtube gameplay

has never heard of the colour-coding system in his entire life and ends up with a page filled with neon highlight

snacks breaks are the only thing keeping him Normal

leaves himself an encouraging note at the end of the reading page so when he’s finished he feels good !!

friends with all of the professors and uses all office hours

strongest points are his guessing skills in multiple-choice questions (process of elimination ftw!)

he tries his best, doesn’t care about marks that much because he knows it doesn’t determine him (and he’s right!)

YEOSANG:

probably runs a studyblr/gram

has the cutest note ever, his handwriting is so pretty!!

he thinks that buying an ipad pro & apple pencil will make him smarter

likes it bc he can doodle on it then erase them easily :”)

has to wear blue ray glasses because of how he looks at a screen so much

mildliners, muji 0.38 gel pen, 6 ring binder, minimal planner, washi tapes, you name it! he visits muji and daiso every other week

buys wayyy too many planners and notebooks which he never ends up using

only uses pastel mildliners because they’re easy on the eyes. cringes every time he sees yunho’s highlighters v_v

his flaw is that he spends 10 mins writing his header with brush tip pens

mutes the group project gc but gets his part done like the good classmate he is

sweats every time he gets an assignment back, takes a whole ten minute to mentally prepare himself

a visual learner; makes mind maps, flow charts, etc

actually has a working printer that he uses pretty often to prints lessons before class just to be Extra prepare

tells everyone he slept well but his bullet journal habit tracker for sleep says otherwise (plz rest!!)

exclusively uses college ruled paper like the sane person he is

SAN:

uses wide-ruled paper (unfortunately not everyone is perfect</3)

starts off very positive, motivated, and organized

then everything goes downhill by the second week

will definitely set byeol on top of his keyboard, take a picture, and send it to his professor as an ‘excuse’ as why he needs an extension (it works)

can’t sit still for any longer than 30 mins, his legs are always bouncing or fidgeting with pen

flashcard king! spends a lot of time on them but it’s worth it

a utensil chewer (always willing to share his pencil but when ppl saw the bite marks they’re like No Thanks >_>)

can’t study well with groups or himself bc he’ll be distracted,,, so he needs one person that can ground him bc when they’re in the zone, he will too be on his x game mode

sends his assignment at 11:58 pm hoping his professor will take the Hint (plz don’t be afraid to ask for help u_u)

prefers listening to ghibli studio soundtracks but then he either gets emotional or sleepy

sometimes forget to mute his mic and we just hear him groaning in frustration

“haha sorry i just stubbed my toe...”

then mutes his mic and goes back to his mental breakdown

MINGI:

the only person that studies every single day just to get his brain used to the information and running

probably listens to anime op or edm music for that Energy Boost

everyone either hates or love him because...

1. loves him bc he always comes clutched with study guides (and willing to share if he likes you enough)

2. he’s good at everything even if he’s not paying attention/doing it last minute

just naturally good at retaining information and applying them

asks Big Brain question that even the professors are shook

sometimes he gets super into the topic and wants to know Everything

“i’ve never failed an exam in my life” and he’s right! big brain mingi

fetal flaw is that he forgets easily (hence why the last minute) and has to write on his palm as a reminder

clicks his pens All the time so he switched to pens with caps just to keep others from jumping him

takes naps 10 mins before classes

actually has his shit together for the post part 2/2

“if no one got me, i know khan academy and quizlet got me. can i get an amen”

WOOYOUNG:

y’all know that one mf that doesn’t have a pencil?

yea he’s been using the same one someone lend to him before a test and never returned it

it’s been two months and it’s still working well and they’re never going to get it back

a minimalist,,,, but in a bad way</3 bc he carries his stolen pencil and paper that he spilled his energy drink over and that’s about it

just throw loose papers in his bag and forgets about their existence

doesn’t do binders or notebooks, just crumbled up paper

sometimes carries a textbook just to show everyone that he’s got his life together

really noisy for No reason, always wants to know other’s marks

a kinesthetic learner

hides his screen with he gets the kahoot questions wrong (you’ll never catch him slippin)

plays coolmathgames.com during class

doesn’t really know what to study/prioritize so he overwhelms himself with every single topic ever

thinks he’s god by pulling an all-nighter to look at the 60+ slides last minute

Swears he’ll change and do better next semester,,,</3

goes to the cafe, takes pictures of his notes & laptop, post it on his story, then leaves

JONGHO:

thrives off of red bull and ice americanos

gets notes and study guides from his upperclassmen because everyone loves jongho

an audio learner so he’ll probably work out or go on a jog while listening to lessons/audiobook

never pulls all-nighters bc it messes up his sleep schedule and says he’ll do it in the morning but he never does

doesn’t even own a highlighter, he’ll circle or underline stuff with a red or black pen

has never touched a textbook in his life

only the study guides and slides, his textbook is collecting dust rn

his notes are literally Only for him because his handwriting only makes sense to him

has questionable handwriting,,, it’s like decoding

multitasks a lot but it ends up taking a lot longer than he wanted to (bc it’s a myth)

very spontaneous; he’ll grind for 5 hours straight but sometimes he won’t even touch a pencil

works best when he talks about the work in groups and share information with each other, like having a convo about the topic

unmutes his mic Once after the lesson to say “bye”

does his work right after the lessons but then takes a short break & doesn’t even Look back for the rest of the night

a/n: tag yourself ! i’m a bit of hohong (i projected myself on all of them in some way lmaooo)

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castiowl · 3 years

Text

i am so close to going full tanya harding on my psych practice’s knee so i just need to rant

first of all i’ve had 9 fucking MH professionals to deal with medication management in the last 2 years. NINE. the longest i had one was for about 7 months, which thankfully was the first one i had after my mental health crisis in 2019 so i was at least able to get my meds figured out and be pretty stable before the fucking Great Psychiatry Exodus where every single provider decided to leave the fucking practice they were at after one (1) whole session with me.

the last three i had, i told them my bad luck with providers and how they all leave the practice and i swear to god all 3 of them said “oh haha well i’m not leaving any time soon!” and then they left LMFAOO

the last 2 i had were from the same practice so i decided to switch to a different practice. especially after my most recent provider was only there for 6 months before leaving. clearly something weird going on.

new practice seems great. easy to use website and so easy to set up an appt. had my first appt, once again stressing that i’ve not had the same provider twice in a row in a year and a half now. provider was super nice and was like wow! that sucks! well i’m not going anywhere :-)

i get an email before my second appt saying i have $250 to pay still from my first session and if i don’t pay it, the appt will be canceled. what the fuck. then i figure out they don’t have my correct insurance information which is partially on me, but i always forget what falls under major medical vs behavioral health because i have two different insurances for those. so i call and explain and give them the correct info. i guess it was on me for not confirming that my appt wouldn’t be canceled….but i show up for my appt (online waiting room) and my provider is online but she never connects with me. i waited a full 45 mins and then she signs off. i was like ??? okay???

so i call the office and they’re like oh your appt was canceled because you didn’t pay. so first of all 1) you didn’t tell me the appt was canceled. fuck you for that. would’ve been nice to receive a fucking email or something so i don’t show up like a jackass 2) i explained that i called to fix the problem so what the fuck? and 3) now i’m out of medication so i need to see a provider…

(also just fucking annoying that my provider could clearly see i was signed in/waiting for her in the waiting room and didn’t bother to just send me a quick IM saying hey your appt was canceled! just let me sit there for a fucking hour)

office person is like well her next appt isn’t until july 26 (this appt was july 6) and i was like fucking great let’s do it. they sent me to the nurse to ask about medication. had to leave a message. whatever.

i ended up just paying the $250 because i didn’t want THIS appt to be canceled too. i figured once the claim went through i’d be refunded but i haven’t been home and my behavioral health insurance does everything through snail mail in the year 2021 :-)

i get a call from the nurse and she’s like oh yeah we can refill your Rx no problem so like finally some good news. but then i say i’m in florida and could they send it to the walgreens down here? and she’s like ohhhh we don’t send meds across state lines usually so i’ll have to ask your provider. excuse me? so no client can go on vacation for longer than their medicine allows? literally how is that okay? besides the fact that where i pick up my meds is none of their business. literally. like i could’ve had them send it to the walgreens in VA and then call walgreens to transfer it for me and they’d be none the wiser (i ended up doing this for one med because i was so over it). anyway. got my meds. it’s all good.

so my second appt rolls around today. everything is great. the balance was paid. i received a call friday confirming the appt.

however. lol. the portal they have stopped letting me log into the desktop version. my phone is fine. zero problems. but the exact same user name password on desktop says it’s wrong. i swear i checked it like 30 times. didn’t work. so i was like okay whatever i’ll just go straight to my provider’s online waiting room. i did so. logged in there. waiting. ten minutes past the appt i was like…..i swear to fucking god if they canceled on my and didn’t tell me again i’m gonna commit a crime. call the office. apparently if you’re on hold for more than 5 mins, they send you to voicemail. fuck that. i just called again. i get a person. yay.

i ask if she’s running late or w/e and the office person says i didn’t confirm the appt by logging into the patient portal. are you fucking kidding me? i haven’t received an email about this july 26 appt at all, let alone one telling me i need to do XYZ to confirm an appt. the phone call i got confirming the appt didn’t say to call back or go online. i literally had to hunt through my browser history just to find her waiting room address. (after logging into the portal after all this shit, there isn’t even a fucking link to the waiting room anywhere so idk where i was supposed to find that without already just knowing it).

i explain all this, how the portal isn’t working on desktop anyway (i literally put a note in my phone about it) and i was IN the waiting room on time so what the fuck. and the office person very helpfully was like oh well she can call you if there are any cancellations. okay. whatever. but i’m out of meds today so…. office person very shittily says “i will let her know” with this fucking tone like i’m the one who dropped the ball here. jesus fucking christ.

look folks i barely want to be alive as it is but having to fucking fight tooth and nail just to talk to a person so i can get the meds that make me not die is like. A FUCKING joke. i am the least flakey person ever and i look like an insane person who can’t do basic tasks to this clinic because their shit is so fucked up.

all this on top of the fact that my therapist is just. idk. the vibes have been way off and i just miss my old therapist so goddamn much especially with life returning to normal w covid and hey my dog has cancer! i’m just ready to throw in the towel.

#*#if you read this novel god bless you you’re insane #anyway psychiatrists can suck my whole ass

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lavendersoft · 4 years

Text

My Soulmate’s Soulmate.

Part: 8

Soulmate! AU

Synopsis: Before you meet your soulmate your world is black and white, without color. When soulmates meet, their world glows with vibrancy. The reality, however, as harsh and uncommon as it is, is that you are not always your soulmate’s soulmate.

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, Taehyung x Reader, Jungkook x Taehyung (poly!au)

Warnings: N/A.

Author’s Notes: Guys. I’m so sorry I’ve left yall hanging for so long. College life is so stressful and finals are right around the corner so I've spent most of my time doing nothing but school. Anyways, I’m gonna try to get back on my grind and update more for yall. ily.

It’s been two months since your initial date with Tae.

It’s been relaxing, almost. Any negative feelings toward the man have slowly but surely dissipated since getting to know him personally. You pride yourself in calling it progress.

He really is the sweetest man- besides Jungkook, of course- you’ve ever met. He‘s funny too, in the cute sort of way. He has the sense of humor of a sarcastic angsty teen with a hint of wholesomeness that he tries to hide.

He’s passionate about his art, a borderline workaholic. When either you or Jungkook call him, nine times out of ten he’s in his studio working on a piece that “piqued his interest for the minute.”

He‘s thoughtful. He’s taken Jungkook out on multiple dates as well as yourself. Every time Jungkook comes back from one of their dates, he’s star-struck. He’d be in the best of moods, humming to himself while he puts on a love song playlist and dances with you around the living room. You haven’t seen him so giggly since the two of you started dating, like a teenager in love.

You think there might be genuine feelings between the three of you, that’s what keeps you so relaxed about your (some would say) unfortunate situation.

There are quandaries, as there would be in such a unique relationship. Bouts of jealousy erupt during the most random times. You remember about a week ago you caught yourself from slapping Taehyung’s hand away from Jungkook’s thigh while you all sat together on the couch, watching some cheesy rom-com. The instinct came over you like a flash when out of the corner of your eye you saw Tae make the move. Jungkook had welcomed the skinship, obviously, opting to place his own hand on top of Tae’s. Clenching your jaw, you wiggle your way in just a little bit further into Jungkook’s side. You wonder if the last of this petty jealousy will disappear after a while. You don’t think that these feelings are directed at Taehyung personally. They were just fleeting instincts, not something that irks you constantly, like in the very beginning.

Just petty jealousy... that's all.

Tonight’s the big night. Jungkook had asked you if you were ready to take the next step last night.

“More ready than I’ll ever be.” You told him.

He was ecstatic at your answer and had instantly pulled out his phone to invite Tae over for dinner the following night, which was tonight.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous. His answer could only really be one thing. Yes. But that doesn’t stop your mind from brewing up things to worry about.

What if he says it’s too soon? What if he wants to keep it an open relationship? What if both you and Jungkook have been reading the signs all wrong?

What if he doesn’t feel anything romantic toward Jungkook? That was your biggest fear, as well as Jungkook’s probably.

“You're anxious,” Jungkook really could read you like a book. “You’re fidgeting.”

“I just want tonight to go perfectly. He has to be as comfortable as possible.” You reply as you toss the salad for the thirtieth time.

“I agree. Maybe we should break out the alcohol?” He’s only joking but you actually think spiking your own drink might be the best option.

“The marinara sauce is burning.” He observes the red tomato sauce bubble over the pot.

“Shit.” You hiss, you’d totally forgotten while in your panic.

“It’s okay, Angel, I got it.” He chuckles, passing by you to the stove, stirring the pot, “Just relax. Everything will go fine.”

It has to. If it doesnt it might just be the end of your relationship, the one you’ve worked so hard to keep alive.

The light knock at the door pulls you out of your dark thoughts and back into reality. Jungkook gasps excitedly before pecking you on the cheek.

“I’ll get it!” He declares while padding over to the door. It swings open to reveal a tired but handsome Taehyung.

“Hey, Baby!”

A shiver runs down your spine when the word reaches your ears. Your movements freeze in pure shock.

“Hi, Babe.”

When did they start calling each other pet names?

You shake it off as quickly as it came. When you enter the hallway, Taehyung softly breaks the embrace between the two men to greet you.

“Sweetheart.” He greets with a drowsy smile, pulling you into a tight squeeze.

“You hungry? I made spaghetti! Well, tried to.” You chuckle at your poor excuse for pasta.

“I’m starving. Haven't eaten since yesterday.” Taehyung admits, shyly.

“What?!” Both of your reactions were immediate.

“Since yesterday?!” Jungkook gapes.

“Well, it’s just I’ve been working on so many projects late-” His excuse falls short when Jungkook proceeds to guide Tae toward the dining room.

“That’s no excuse! No wonder you look so exhausted!” You begin to feel like a nagging mother but you just couldn't help it. You did care for the silver-haired artist and it pained you to know he wasn't properly taking care of himself.

The ladle in your hand moves quicker than any kitchen utensil should, making Tae a plate first and foremost.

“Eat, please.” When the plate is set in front of him, he digs in.

“I didn’t even realize how hungry I was until about five minutes ago.” He beams with a mouthful of food. You can’t help but smile at how childlike he could be. He could be so cute when he wasn’t being a brooding sex god.

“Have you taken any breaks lately? When was the last time you slept?” Jungkook inquires. Tae purses his lips in thought, tapping his finger on his chin.

“Let’s see...I just left the studio about an hour ago, but I went straight to my house to shower so I could meet you guys. Before that, I was working for about thirteen hours and don’t think I took a significant break that entire time. So thirteen hours ago?”

You could practically spot the exact moment Jungkook stops himself from banging his own head on the dining room table.

“You’ve been working since six this morning?” You try to make your voice less accusatory this time.

“Yep. And I’ve finally finished that piece I’ve been working on for a week now! Jimin says we already have bids on it!” He’s glowing with pride, his smile lighting up the room so much you can’t even bring yourself to be angry at him.

“Well, congratulations. Now eat.” You joke as you shake your head.

When everyone’s done eating, the room seems a bit more heavy. The question in your head keeps growing until there’s no room for any other thoughts. Jungkook seems to be getting on fine though, as he reminisces on the last date they shared. Taehyung had taken him on one of his motorcycles. Jungkook couldn't stop talking about it for days, he had so much fun. You were genuinely happy for him.

You didn't realize you were biting your lip until Tae turned his attention to you,

“Got something you’d like to share with the class?” He jokes, gently nudging your calf with his foot.

Jungkook exchanges a quick look and a confident nod with you.

“Yeah, actually.”

“I’m all ears, Love.” His back straightens as if he’s giving you his full, undivided attention.

“So we- Jungkook and I- were thinking that since we all get along so nicely and, you know, we’re like soulmates and what not... um we were thinking-“

“Do you want to date us?” Jungkook blurts out. You deadpan at your impatient boyfriend.

“Uh, what he means is-“

“Absolutely.” You deadpan at your new impatient boyfriend, while Jungkook giggles beside you.

There’s a comfortable moment between the three of you as you all take in what this means. Blocking out all the needless worrying that you’re so good at, you concentrate on the warm feeling rising in your stomach.

"Finally,” Tae chuckles at himself, “It took you guys long enough! I was beginning to wonder if you guys were ever gonna ask me out. I was getting worried.”

“Hey. Being worried is my job.” You fake scold him, tapping him on the shoulder.

There was a silence that you couldn't ignore coming from your soulmate, Jungkook hadn’t even properly reacted when Tae said yes. But the nervousness ended when you saw what looked like tears gathering in his doe eyes.

“I'm so happy.” He says simply, voice slightly strained.

Taglist: @ourwhispersbecomeouranthems @fantasyjoon @ally22042000 @ireadfanficsonthisleavemealone @embrace-themagic @lexi-tries-art @ccmemoirs @just-call-me-trash-can @karlykim92 @omg-sol-s-dreamland @ironically-indifferent96 @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @bumblekey93 @teacuppeach @twilight-loveer @exochanyeoltao @pr1nc355y05h1 @somiwin @ikinya-uwu @min-chimchim03

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bibliophileteayarnlover · 4 years

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Today I will find motivation for myself to clean the apt. Not only clean the Apt but also make changes to how I live my life! This morning has started out so wonderfully. When I was younger I had a really hard time (think 4th grade when I first attempted suicide, I should note it would have never killed me but I thought it would, I took a whole 5 pills of children Tylenol) I told my teacher the next day that I wanted to kill myself and that I had tried and it didn't work over the weekend with sobbing because I wanted to end it and she suggested that I write 10 people who would miss me if I was gone.

I know it doesn't help everyone, but sometimes on my worst days I will look back at those old notes and know that I am loved and people would care if I died. This last summer I was close extremely close to saying goodbye to the world. And I found one of those old notes and it helped me out. I wish I could find her and tell her thank you because without knowing it she did save my life this last summer.

But now I want to find happiness, and I want to share happiness with my future self on the bad days. I want to share 5 things that future me will enjoy.

1. I woke up and meditated the for the first time is forever, it made me feel amazing. Don't get me wrong I struggled during those ten mins.

Of just focusing on my breath as it went into me and out of me. Bringing myself back each time my mind wandered away like a puppy. It was so incredibly wonderful to spend some time outside of my head. Future self I'm guessing here but most definitely I'm in my head it's time to take a step back and just listen to our breath.

2. I took a bath and washed my hair! I know I don't like showers it for some reason stresses me out, and I will go to great lengths to avoid it but baths for whatever reason I can do baths. I know it was hard to do that this morning but as soon as it body hit the water that big exhale of pure biss was wonderful. Future me remember that we love baths even when it's hard to get out of bed for days. I know that self-care is really hard but it's so important when you have anxiety and depression days. Especially when it's hard

3. I spent 10 mins cleaning the Apt. This morning. I counted to 5 stood up and set a timer with the pretty music which was perfect and helped me stay on task so much and kept me calm. Which was hard at first but then I was able to work threw it. Future me I know it seems impossible right now but the apt. Being picked up even just that little bit made me feel so accomplished and it made me happy.

4. I worked on the Park Lane business this morning. Which again hard, but then I got to talking to my clients and a smile came to our face because I was making them happy and that matters and made me feel incredible! And future me, dear lord we love sparkles never forget that sparkles make us happy! Go and find some I have lots of sparkly things all around just find one and look at it for awhile the way it glitters, glows, plays with the lights, look at the ceiling and see how it makes the light move and bounce. It makes me happy it brings a smile to my face.

5. I am in a happy and healthy relationship and I am so happy about that. Future me! My sailor asked me to marry him! And I am so beyond happy he did! His family loves me, how different is that experience is that for us. The whole family parents, sisters, grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles. It's an amazing feeling don't forget this feeling of love.

Don't forget future me I know the world is not full of sunshine and sparkles. But, it okay to enjoy them. They don't expect anything in return when you do.

#future #mental heath support #mentalstrength #mental help #mentalwellness #mental illness #positive thoughts #positivity #future me #self care #self improvement #self esteem #moving forward #we can make it #we can do it #we can do anything #we can do this #i love these #i love me

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writing-prompts-for-friends · 4 years

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Notes on Robert McKee’s “Story” 23: Tearing Down Act Design

☝ Maybe this post will make you throw out the storytelling map your English teacher gave you.

Every single person who has taken a literature class has seen a diagram along these lines at some point. This is the one-track path that all “Good Stories” must take:

But do all “Good Stories” really have to follow this trajectory? And where exactly do subplots fit in on this? In this post, I share Robert McKee’s answers to these questions.

How Many Acts?

First, what even is an act? Let’s make sure we have a clear understanding.

“As a symphony unfolds in three, four, or more movements, so story is told in movements called acts--the macro-structure of story.

Beats, changing patterns of human behavior, build scenes. Ideally, every scene becomes a Turning Point in which the values at state swing from the positive to the negative or the negative to the positive, creating significant but minor change in their lives.

A series of scenes build a sequence that culminates in a scene that has a moderate impact on the characters, turning or changing values for better or worse to a greater degree than any scene.

A series of sequences build an act that climaxes in a scene that creates a major reversal in the characters’ lives, greater than any sequence accomplished.”

Okay. So how many should acts should we have? Most famous works we’re familiar with have three acts, as illustrated in our picture above. But is that the golden rule?

According to McKee and Aristotle, no, three acts is not the golden rule. A good story can have just one act--we may see this in a one-shot fanfiction or a short story.

A story can have two acts as well, most commonly seen in sitcoms, novellas, or hour-length plays.

However, when a work reaches a certain length, such as a feature film, an hour-long TV episode, a full-length play, or a novel, three acts are the minimum.

Why is this? Who decided that three is the magic number?

“As audience we embrace the story artist and say: ‘I’d like a poetic experience in breadth and depth to the limits of life. But I’m a reasonable person. If I give you only a few minutes to read or witness your work, it would be unfair of me to demand you to take me to the limit. Instead I’d like a moment of pleasure, an insight or two, no more than that. But if I give you important hours of my life, I expect you to be an artist of power who can reach the boundaries of experience.’

In our effort to satisfy the audience’s need, to tell stories that touch the innermost and outermost sources of life, two major reversals are not enough. No matter the setting or scope of the telling, no matter how international and epic or intimate and interior, three major reversals are the necessary minimum for a full-length work of narrative art to reach the end of the line.

Consider these rhythms: Things were bad, then they were good--end of story. Or things were good, then they were bad--end of story. Or things were bad, then they were very bad--end of story. Or things were good, then they were very good--end of story. In all four cases we feel something’s lacking. We know that the second event, whether positively or negatively charged, is neither the end nor the limit. Even if the second event kills the cast: Things were good (or bad), then everyone died--end of story--it’s not enough. “Okay, they’re all dead. Now what?” we’re wondering. The third turn is missing and we know we haven’t touch the limit until at least one more major reversal occurs. Therefore, the three-act story rhythm was the foundation of story art for centuries before Aristotle noticed it.”

Act Length

(For the sake of explanation, let’s stick with the Three Act pattern.)

Take a look at that diagram that you were probably forced to memorize in lit class again.

Here, we see that all three acts are equal in length.However, McKee provides a different distribution. He stresses that his diagrams are foundations and not formulae, and while his are specifically for the film medium, he believes that they are applicable to the play and novel as well.

For now, let’s just look at the Central Plot timeline and disregard subplots. In his foundation, he has broken a 118 minute, three act film into the following pieces:

Act 1: 30 mins (25% of film)

Act 2: 70 mins (60% of film)

Act 3: 18 mins (15% of film)

Notice in particular how short the last act is compared to the others. McKee states, “In the ideal last act we want to give the audience a sense of acceleration, a swiftly rising action to Climax.” If we draw out the last act too much, we run the risk of slowing pace and taking away from the momentum we have built up.

Now let’s take a look at Act 2. It’s a whopping 60% of the film. That feels like a lot to me. McKee echoes something that Stephen King wrote in his book On Writing, that it is the second act where things can get claggy and boring. So how can we keep from getting stuck in the swamp that is Act 2?

Add subplots or more acts.

Subplots are such an important topic that they necessitate their own post, so for now let’s just discuss when we would add more acts.

How Many Acts?

“Not every film needs or wants a subplot: THE FUGITIVE. How then does the writer solve the problem of the long second act? By creating more acts. The three-act design is the minimum. If the writer builds progressions to a major reversal at the halfway point, he breaks the story into four movements with no act more than thirty or forty minutes long.

A film could have a Shakespearean rhythm of five acts: FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL. Or more. RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK is in seven acts; THE COOK, THE THIEF, HIS WIFE & HER LOVER in eight. These films turn a major reversal every fifteen or twenty minutes, decisively solving the long second act problem. But the five- to eight-act design is the exception, for the cure of problem is the cause of others.”

So maybe you have a thriller you want to write, and you’re sick of there being a stupid romance in every single story that comes out these days (Oops, are my own opinions bleeding into this? lol), so you want to write just a straight up thriller, with NOTHING else going on but the central plot. Cool!

In order to avoid the slowdown in Act 2, you may want to consider adding another act, thereby shrinking the length of Act 2, giving you another chance for another exciting twist.

However, beware because adding acts can cause some of the following problems in your story:

The multiplication of act climaxes invites cliches.

For each act there must be a climax. And each climax must be progressively greater than the last. It is difficult enough to think of the three climaxes we need for a regular three-act story. You’ll be dipping down deep into that well of creativity.

The multiplication of acts reduces the impact of climaxes and results in repetitiousness.

“Even if you have a limitless well of creativity, turning act climaxes on scenes of life and death, life an death, life and death, life and death, life and death, seven or eight times over, boredom sets in. Before too long the audience is yawning: “That’s not a major turn. That’s his day. Every fifteen minutes somebody tries to kill this guy.”

What is major is relative to what is moderate and minor. If every scene screams to be heard, we go deaf.

This is why a three-act Central Plot with subplots has become a kind of standard. It fits the creative powers of most writers, provides complexity, and avoids repetition.”

So feel free to have more acts, but in moderation. Next, let’s take a look at some non-standard act patterns you may want to use.

False Endings

What’s a false ending? You’ve seen it a thousand times over. It’s a scene so seemingly complete that we think for a moment the story is over. E.T. is dead--it’s the end of the movie. In ALIEN, Ripley blows up the spaceship and escapes, we think. The original TERMINATOR movie has a double False Ending.

McKee issues this caution regarding them:

“For most films, however, the False Ending is inappropriate. Instead, the Penultimate Act Climax should intensify the Major Dramatic Question: “Now what’s going to happen?”

Act Rhythm

Here, McKee points out the importance of alternating between value-charges. (For a refresher on value-charges, please see this post on the values in your theme, and this post on maintaining balance between the opposite values.)

“Repetitiousness is the enemy of rhythm. The dynamics of story depend on the alternation of its value-charges. For example, the two most powerful scenes in a story are the last two act climaxes. Onscreen they’re often only ten or fifteen minutes apart. Therefore, they cannot repeat the same charge. If the protagonist achieves his Object of Desire, making the last act’s Story Climax positive, then the Penultimate Act Climax must be negative. You cannot set up an up-ending with an up-ending. ‘Things were wonderful...then they got even better!’ Conversely, you cannot set up a down-ending with a down-ending. When emotional experience repeats, the power of the second event is cut in half. And if the power of the Story Climax is halved, the power of the film is halved.

On the other hand, a story may climax in irony, an ending that’s both positive and negative. What then must be the emotional charge of the Penultimate Climax? The answer’s found in close study of the Story Climax, for although irony is somewhat positive, somewhat negative, it should never be balanced. If it is, the positive and negative values cancel each other out and the story ends in a bland neutrality.

For example, Othello finally achieves his desire: a wife who loves him and has never betrayed him with another man--positive. However, when he discovers this, it’s too late because he’s just murdered her--an overall negative irony.”

☝This gave me a lot of thought. I tend to write for myself, and I like to have up-endings with all loose ends tidied up. Looking back at everything, I have set up up-endings with up-endings in many of my stories, and I can see now why even to me the finale feels lacklustre.

Source: McKee, Robert. Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting. York: Methuen, 1998. Print

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chickennoodlesoupfortae · 4 years

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Angles deserve to die

A/N- ahahhahaha its gone for a month author rats. I missed my page so im back and with an update on that piece i said i was going to post last august.

Summary- People would like to think of the higher beings as ethical and moral in all their actions but sometimes even they get bored. Yoongi is assigned a task by the overlord to see how far love could push a mortal. Jimin is tasked the same by the “good” side to see if love can save the souls of those vulnerable. What happens when you’re caught in the crossfires of a cosmic bet.

Word count- 2.8k

Warnings- Since it is based on a higher being religion is under defamation and question.

Namjoon sat babysitting a drink next to the lord of the underworld. “I don’t get what you’re getting at Jungkook. Why should we care about the mortals and their thoughts. Our job is to get them to believe what they have and then let them wander around till they disappear.”

“That’s so boring though.” the god groaned chugging the rest of his drink. “All I’m saying is that we’ve been doing this for them for the past hundred thousand years and I’m bored out of my mind.”

“You’re bored out of your mind. You get the interesting souls. I have to talk to the “good” people. Do you know how many different types of gods I have to pose as so they don’t freak out.” he swirled the liquid inside the cup.

“You choose to do them. When we were choosing what we’d do your words were,” Jungkook began to laugh. The small room was dark and gloomy only filled by the two of them and a maiden who came and occasionally refilled their glasses. It was warm and dry inside making it uncomfortable but the two had gotten use to it as the year melted together.

“Don’t say it” the god warned

“ ‘I believe that these savages can be good and therefore I want to lead their souls into a better place’” he imitated his partner in the afterlife scam “Well look how that turned out. You still get shitty people but they pretend to be better than the ones you send “down under”.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes “What’s with that right? I mean who thought of one, the word hell and two, that it would be down. You literally work ten miles away from me.”

“Stupid humans I guess.” his hand shoot up beckoning for the maiden who appeared next to him within seconds. “Yes dear can I get another one of these please with an extra shot of vodka” his head turned away from the servant “So back to what I was saying oh heavenly one. As I was “punishing” my run of the mill serial killers, as one does. I thought. ‘Now why do these humans love to hurt each other?’ Me being a god and all, determined quickly that it was emotion.”

“And?” he rolled his eyes listening to the devil himself.

“What if we sent one of your angels and one of my demons to try and see what would happen.”

“How would that work the human would have two people pressuring it and we wouldn’t be able to see the results clearly.”

“What if we sent them in disguise as one of them and see who the human chooses emotionally and how far it would go.”

Namjoon finished his drink thinking the proposal through. It had been years since he visited the mortal world and seeing clones of the same personality pass through his office was getting boring. “We need to set goals and a prize.” The devil's eyes lit up with excitement Joon had only seen when he realised his first plague.

“My goal is for the human to kill itself.” he responded

Namjoon choked on air as he heard Jungkook’s suggestion. “That seems awfully cruel.”

“I am satan no?” he joked “It doesn’t matter if your sides gonna win right?”

Again “the savior” of humanity looked for the answers in the room eyes blanking on a wall. “Fine but my goal is the same. The human must end it’s own life in a selfless way.”

“Oh that’s interesting Namjoon.” his head raised at the use of his real name.

“Yes Jungkook it is, but this is an interesting game we’re playing.” he replied with the use of his real name. There names were used mostly by their own angels and demons but rarely between the two “If I win we get to switch positions for the next millenia.”

“And if I win you have to do both jobs for the next century and I live a life amongst the people showing them what bad really is.” he extended his hand. Namjoon grabbed it feeling a slight burn on impact.

“Deal.”

Yoongi’s eyes opened and he groaned. “So we’re doing this again.” he asked himself at the realization he was still alive or better phrased not alive but still working. He stood up in the overly large dimly lit room walking over to the closet to start his daily routine. Everyday he followed the same actions. Closet, clothes, brushing his teeth, and going to the court to hear whatever sob stories his clients had. One would assume that a demon in charge of the highest cases in the land of the heartless would have an exciting life but after tens of thousands of years it became a bit tedious. He put on a white tee shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. To call it business casual he threw on a plane black blazer. Looking in the mirror he checked his figure giving himself a smile. He walked closer to the mirror examining his black hair patting down a couple fly aways. His eyes were cold and dead. Perfect for his profession. He stepped back looking at himself one last time before opening the door and saying goodbye to his penthouse apartment in the nicest district of the bad side.

The elevator as always remained pack for all seventy levels stopping at every other floor. It was quite fitting to what was called hell in the mortal world. Finally at the lobby he walked out of the building into the cloudy atmosphere. His car was parked in a no parking zone and ten tickets stuck out of his window wipers that he had never bothered to take out. He smiled at the sight of a boot on his black luxury vehicle. His favorite hobby was seeing how angry the meter maid would get watching him zap off the boot and burn the tickets. He was waiting for there to be fifteen tickets so he could beat his record. He stepped into the small sleek car and like every morning rode in silence to the office.

Jimin’s eyes fluttered open a small smile already present on his soft face. He stood up slightly yawning slipping his feet into the slippers that found a home beside his king size bed. He walked through his large bedroom to the closet. The room was bright due to thee light coming in from the open window. Everyday Jimin did the same thing enjoying the routine it gave him. “Hey baby can you get me a cup of coffee?” he asked his “girlfriend” grabbing a button up white shirt out of the full closet.

“Sure thing.” she responded from another part of the house. He walked into the bathroom examining his face. For an angel he fit the description, a clear skin smile reflecting back. His hair was a platinum blonde almost gray shade which matched his outfit. Although loving the style of white he wore a dark metal watch on his wrist and a black necklace. He checked his figure smiling and leaving his all white bathroom.

“Here’s your coffee dear.” A tall woman stood in front of him handing him a to go cup. In the “next world” as the highest liked to call it, there was no such thing as love. “Girlfriend” was a term coined by the demons which slowly traveled to the good side for a companion. Although there were no genders in the next world the beings could choose what they presented as and most of the time it was a mortal form some resembling women and other men and some just balls of light. A “girlfriend” here just meant a companion to give support.

“Thank you.” he gave her a small peck and left the townhouse he owned in the best district of the good side. What Jimin did was different than most angels. Most were tasked to help the souls fade and give them hope while his was to defend the good side from the souls trying to get in. It was a stressful job but it kept him busy. He walked to his white car. The vehicle shined brightly in the sun parked neatly in front of his house. He drove to the office with the windows open letting the air flow through.

“Min Yoongi?” his office telephone paged. He groaned looking at the old fashioned piece of technology, now only used in his profession. His hand slowly raised pressing the intercom button.

“Yes?” he asked annoyed.

“Sir, the CEO seeks your presence upstairs.” he threw his head back at the static sound that now filled his office.

“Tell him I’ll be up.”

It wasn’t a bad day but he hated meeting with his boss. His position was the highest next to the CEO meaning he didn’t interact with anyone except his clients, secretary, and occasionally his doorman and he loved it that way. He let out a loud groan walking outside his office and to the elevator. He got inside the cabin pressing level one hundred. As he passed each floor he pressed the numbers making it so by the time he got to his floor the elevator would stop at every level.

The doors opened to the dry and hot office of the CEO. He strolled out of the elevator clearly unamused by being called here.

“Yoongi what a pleasure to see you again.” Jungkook smiled sitting behind his desk in the almost dark office. All the blinds were down and the room was empty except for the servant he always had on hand for drinks.

“What do you want?” he asked tired already of the interaction.

“Do want anything to drink?” the god asked

“No.” he responded

“I don’t know why I love my alcohol so much. To us highers it has no effect but I guess I’ve always loved the burn.” he let out a dry laugh.

“So why did you call me up here satan.” he stated blandly

“I hate that name. Where do they come up with these names?” he took a long sip from his glass before placing it down and changing his demeanor. “I have a job for you.”

Jimin smiled at his client giving her a box of tissues. “Yes, I know this must be a lot for you honey. You made it! You’re on the goodside. Why don’t you go with Jan and she’ll explain this all to you.”

The soul nodded her head and walked out with the assistant selected for her case. Jimin let out a sigh of relief as his first case of the day walked out.

“Park Jimin?” he heard is telecom go off. He pressed the button to speak.

“Yes?” he responded

“The CEO needs you.”

“Thank you for telling me.” he stood up and walked to the elevator pressing the up button. He looked over at his secretary.

“Did he mention what he needs me for?” he asked her kindly

“No sir. He just said he needed to see you.” she smiled at him.

“Oh that’s unfortunate. The weathers been quite nice lately hasn’t it.” he politely conversed with her.

“Yes, the light has been shining lately. I heard it’s cloudy on the other side though.” she added

“What a shame. I hope it gets brighter.” the elevator opened “Well I’ll be back soon hopefully.” he waved while pressing the hundredth floor.

The doors opened into the bright room surrounded by windows and chairs. The god stood looking out of one of the farther one. The windows gave a perfect view onto the bustling city of the good side. Cars drove through the streets and angels walked on the sidewalks. The god wasn’t looking at the city though. He looked beyond it to the fields of grasing souls waiting to fade away.

“Hi Namjoon what can I do for you?” he asked walking to stand beside him

“I have a job for you.” he sighed still looking forward.

“I’m sorry what do you want me to do JK?” he asked now more interested than he had been before. Jungkook slide the file across his desk to the side of the chair yoongi was sitting in.

“Here’s her case buddy. (y/n) she was especially chosen by me and mr. sunshine.”

Yoongi sat up to grab the manilla folder. He looked at the picture of the mortal girl and began to read her file. “What about her though? She seems pretty average to me.” he continued to scan the transcript.

“You see I knew you were the man for the job. Ms. (y/l/n) is a perfect example of a decent human being, she isn't good but she isn’t bad. She would get into the other side but she wouldn’t become an angel. She’s the perfect example of a vulnerable soul.”

“I still don’t get why you want me to seduce her into being bad.” he asked closing the file and sliding it back.

“I don’t want you to make her bad. I just want you to make her lose herself. Drive her insane make her you know?” he elaborated overcome with joy.

“No Jungkook I don’t know.” the demon responded the red in his eyes flaring up for the first time in months.

“To end it all. I want you to make an example of her. If you can get her to go insane then I’ll win my bet.” he stated smiling and leaning back into his chair.

“You’re doing this as a bet. That seems especially cruel even for you.” Yoongi cracked a smile starting to get convinced.

“I mean I’m sure it’ll be fun for you too. You’ll get a break from routine and free reign on a mortal. All I need you to do is to take her life and what she knows and flip it upside down, make her emotions overcome her and lead her to dumb descisions. If you think seducing her will do it than go ahead.”

“Fine. I’ll do it.” he sighed standing up.

“This seems like a bad idea.” Jimin pleaded to his superior.

“I know but if I don’t win then they will and that’s worse.”

“Why would you make a wager like this.” the angel pleaded feeling defeated knowing he would have to go through with it. He was looking through the file. “She’s so average. She doesn’t deserve this. She would be a normal soul on this side. What if I can’t convince her and the other side wins?” he was rambling but surprisingly at a loose for words in his mind

“I don’t know Jimin but I trust that you’ll be able to sway her in the right direction.”

“I still don’t understand what I need to do.” he ruffled through the papers in the file.

“You need to find this girl and get her to change and,” he paused disappointed in his part of the deal. “ give the ultimate sacrifice for another.”

Jimin’s head shot up “The what?” he was in denial “You want me to get her to kill herself for someone else how is that...I don’t.” he couldn’t bring the words in his mind to come out.

“I know but in a selfless way. Like a mother dying for her child or a firefighter saving a person from a fire.” the god walked away from the windows and sat down at his desk.

“I can’t do this.” Jimin threw the file up in the air, letting the papers fall around him.

“You have too.” Namjoon stated giving him the watch. Every angel knew of the watch but very few ever saw it. The small timepiece allowed for highers such as angels, demons, and gods to visit the mortal world. He took the time piece and left the office.

Yoongi stood in his empty apartment packing a suitcase filling it with his most casual clothes. He looked back into the home and twisted the watch's dial transporting him to the mortal world.

Jimin went home and packed a bag filled with his clothes. He forgot about his “girlfriend” until she stopped him at the door. At almost all times angels were expected to be kind beings above drama and emotions but this was a rare occasion. “Get out of my home. I won’t be back for awhile and I thought the new trend of companionship would be for me but it wasn’t so I expect you to be gone.” he moved her aside and left his home. On his porch he turned the dial on the watch transporting him to the mortal realm.

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