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popculturebuffet · 6 months

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Evil Dead Rise: Mommy's with the Maggots Now (Comission for WeirdKev27)

Hail to the king baby! It's halloween, it's this blog and that mean's it's time for me to pull out my volume of the Necronimcon Demento and review another chapter of the evil dead.

So for those new here

I'm Jake, I review stuff and things, and two years ago I did an evil dead retrospective, covering all 4 films. From that stupid bitch scotty to ash laughing madly, to the film of a thousand catchphrases to that one that had Jane Levy, some good gore and little else, it was a fun ride.

So naturally with a new evil dead film out, it's only natural that I returned to review the latest film in the franchise: Evil Dead Rise. It's also a special review as it's my belated reviewversry with friend of the blog and over time of the me, WeirdKev27.

Kevin was my first client and the one who made me able to make a living doing this, and while he has zero interest in ever seeing Evil Dead Rise, he's more an horror-action and horror-comedy kind of guy, this gives him a chance to see what it has. Plus really after covering the last 4 even if he didn't agree to sponsor it, I'd be doing this anyway as I both love this film and hate not having the complete set. It's thanks to kev I have all I do now, so thanks man.

Evil Dead Rise is the franchises second attempt at a soft reboot after Evil Dead 2013. The plan after that one was to do two sequels: Evil Dead 2, which would follow Mia, Jane Levy's final girl from the requel and the only character who wasn't huffing paint thinner the whole film, and Army of Darkness 2. This ended up falling through, with Alvarez moving on to other projects and AOD2 being retooled into Ash Vs the Evil Dead, a three season tv series on stars that sadly got cancelled but from all accounts fucking rocked and I definitely want to cover at some point.

From there Ash's story was seemingly done on screen. While Dynamite will likely publish army of darkness comics till the end of time, Bruce Campbell had decided he was aging out of the part and wanted to pass the chainsaw on. That said while Campbell was seemingly done playing Ashy Slashy, he wasn't done with the franchise, staying on as a producer alongside Sam Rami and Robert Tapert. Rami and Campbell were done MAKING the films, but still wanted the franchise to live on.

So in 2019 a new film got the greenlight, with Rami handpicking rookie director Lee Cronin for the part, having impressed rami while working on the short lived quibi series 50 States of Fright. Cronin easily took to the cast and once filming COULD kick off in 2021, he hit the ground running. The result is a fresh take on the franchise that was so well done that WBD decided it was too good to just pop on streaming and much like Blue Beetle, bumped it up to theaters. The result was a 19 million dollar film.. scoring nearly 150 million in the box office, a huge success that , unlike most films only GREW it's audience as the weeks went on, always a great sign.

As a result the franchise's future seems secure, with Cronin not only already having 4 ideas for a sequel, which i'll get to later, but the results were so Groovy Bruce decided he wasn't finished yet, meaning an ash film is also in the cards.

So the question is how groovy is this film and how does the franchise fair without it's iconic cabin setting or iconic catchphrase spewing chainsaw man? The answers to all of this is under the cut. So turn the page, wash your hands, and prepare for 1717 Gallons of Bloodshed as I look at Evil Dead Rise.

Evil Dead Rise starts off a day after the main plot, with three 20 somethings having gone to a cabin in the woods woooooooooooooo not realizing what franchise their in. They are Jessica, Teresa, Jessica's cousin and Caleb, Jessica's douchey boyfriend. Caleb annoys Teresa with a drone, nearly clipping her with it and mansplaning after she says it nearly clipped her head off that it would've ground her face up instead.

Teresa proves to be just as obnoxious as Caleb, berating Jessica for leaving her alone with him, fair.. but then also being mad at her for being sick, laid up in bed and thus unable to give her the keys.

Thankfully this is an evil dead movie so Jessica quickly ends our suffering as she wants to swallow souls, taking off Teressa's scalp in a gory, horrifying and awesome practical effect before putting the drone to her own face and jumping into the lake. Caleb proves he's both not a COMPLETE asshole but still a complete idiot by diving in after her and we get the films awesome opening shot: Jessica rising from the lake, drenched in water and blood as the title rises behind her.

While I do like that TITLE CARRRD and scalping, overall i'm not a big fan of this opening. While it's well shot like the rest of the film, it's too short to really make me care and feels like it was thrown in there because the main plot ran a tad short and was too tightly paced to add to. It's a how we got here sort of thing that dosen't really work and feels like i'ts just there so we can have a sequel.. depsite the film having MULTIPLE other valuable sequel hooks dangling around. It's unnecessary in a film that otherwise really dosen't DO unnecessary. It also feels tonally off, feeling like a 2000's era "Kill the douchebags" sort of film than the tightly paced well characterized film we get after.

Thankfully we soon meet our actual protagnist, Beth. Beth, played by Australian Actor Alyssa Sulivan, gets a great introduction that does a lot of nice exposition without actually saying any: we quickly find out from her being sick in a stall and having some douche she works with who can't do his job himself and just let her go to the bathroom for five minutes knock on it that sh'es a roadie, her hiding it tells us she's pregnant and doesn't want anyone else to know, and Suilivan's awesome facial acting tells us she has no idea how to process this.

We soon cut to LA in a high rise, a setting change I utterly love. Before this most evil dead works were in a rural setting: a cabin in the woods for the first, second and fourth films, artuhrian times for the third, and some small towns for ash vs the evil dead. We haven't seen the deadites in an urban setting before this and LA was a great set.

The choice of setting within is also great: an old crumbling high rise in the middle of a busy city no one would give two shits about or really investigate in the middle of the night. It keeps the isolation of the cabin but puts a new spin on it that allows for new set pieces.

The main one of these is Ellie's Apartment. Ellie is played by the stunning and talented Alyssa Sutherland, previously known for Vikings, which I haven't seen. Sutherland is the easy breakout of the film, the center of most of it's marketing and the most terrifying part about it... eventually.

Part of that terror is we see her first as a fun, responsible mom and tattoo artist dealing with three children, all creatives themselves in some way: Bridget (Gabrille Echoles) is an activist, her brother Danny (Morgan Davies) is a dj and their young sister Cassie cuts up her dolls to create staves to body check her sister with.

This family, which doesn't have a last name, is the core of the film and the first 20 minutes are really just setting them up as people: Beth is a tad snarky but clearly loves her kids and is tough but fair with them, Bridget is sarcastic to just about everyone but her aunt, Danny is a bit of a reckless fuckwit but has a good heart, more on the former later, and Cassie is a sweetie pie. Their not super deep characterizations, but the talented actors give them a lot of character simply by action, and one of the films best asset is how great these people are at facial acting.

Beth flies in and after scaring the shit out of Ellie. The two actresses have great chemistry and you can feel the tension as the two clearly haven't talked.. and Beth missed a lot as Ellie's ex husband abandoned the family and this high rise is condemned, with the family only having a month. So naturally Ellie isn't that excited to see Beth, both for Beth dodging her calls, despite getting her messages, and showing up at the worst possible time.

That said the film also does a really good job with the sibling dynamic: like me with my own brother Ellie may be annoyed with Beth.. but she's there for her, getting this visit wasn't just out of the blue and her sister really needs her and waits till the kids have left to pick up pizza to ask, but does so gently yet firmly. These characters feel like family and building up this empathy and character is key to everything being as horrifying as it is. It's something many horror films, including this very film in it's opening and the previous film fail to grasp: just because

Dosen't mean we should WANT them too. It's fine to throw in a few assholes to kill so not EVERY death is a downer, depending on the film, but when you can't empathize with most of your cast it makes the wait for the bloodshed tedious. It's why the previous film REALLY didn't work for me: outside of mia NONE of these idiots were likeable and as such having to spend a film with them being stupid and waiting for them to die while the only likeable one was turned into a deadite wasn't fun. Here by making everyone we encounter likeable, grounded, and interesting.. it makes the horrifying slaughter we're about to witness that much more tragic. It makes us WANT these characters not to be dead by dawn.

Anyways we're soon reminded this is LA as we get an EARTHQUAKKKEEEE, with the bathroom set our sisters are in having been rigged to shake really well. The kids thankfulyl weren't driving at the time and instead are trying to take the pizza back up when it hits. They drop it, but do live.

Sadly for them and everyone else on their floor Danny suffers from a terminal case of dumbass and upon seeing a giant crack in the ground leading to a mysterious old bank vault just HAS to investigate in the dark. He finds some old records, which.. fair enough, it's some neat historical stuff, could be fun to paly with soundwise and could help them fincally. Him taking stuff romt he hole is mildly stupid.. but I get it and I probably would. What I wouldn't do is upon finding a room guarded by a bunch of hanging crucafixes and seeing a book with teeth and bound in human flesh, take it with me. And I mean teeth as this Necronomicon has a nasty but awesome set of chompers. I praise the set design here on this, it's iconic as the original, still recognizable as being it's sibling, but the teeth give it it's own flair.

Anyways the kids get back to the apartment and Danny decides the best thing he can do during a dark night with quakes a poppin.. is to pry open his new book. Which granted is what i'd do, but my recent book is about a trans woman's first year post transition and is damn good...

Highly recommend it and it's sequel, which I got first. Also guarnateed not to summon the evil dead.. which I understand is a dealbreaker for some of you. Good news i'm pretty sure that manga about Joker raising a baby batman does, so have at it if that's what your after.

Sadly Danny is not taking my book recommendations and opens the things finding a bunch of spooky pictures and... being genuinely horrified. He's a LITTLE fascinated but it's clear his reaction is "shit this thing isn't good is it. Not hleped is that when he pricks his finger on the books mighty jaws, it drinks some blood Audrey II styles. Bridget sees this and has the right reaction.

Or rather chuck it back down the hole they got it from. Danny can't because their mom won't let them out of the apartment after the quake which is fair.. what's less fair is that he dosen't wrap the book in something or hide it. Keep it from trying to nible on some face. You have 4 other people in the house Dan be considerate!

That said Dan still takes the darwin award winning step of playing the wax records he got. NOw on paper Danny being this dumb shoudln't work.. but in practice Rise does an excellent job showing why Danny would be like this: we've seen he's an audophile, that he's reckless as he went down a crevice in an earthquake, and that he's curious to a fault, willing to take the book in a first place. So he's being stupid.. but it's in a way where it's a character flaw and not just bad writing.

It also helps that while playing the records is risky.. you can kinda see why. He found a creepy vampiric book in the basement. He probably gets he might not be able to just chuck it in a hole and have it not come back or have already infected them or something. it didn't, but he can't know that. So knowing what the FUCK this thing is might be a good idea.

As it turns out we get some exposition from a preist long ago: he found the book and proposed to his fellow preists to explore it. His Fellow preists didn't want to die today and loudly decired it as blasphemous.

So he decided to take it and study it because that's never gone horribly wrong and lead to about a dozen deaths in this franchise, along with cameo Bruce Campbell and some other guy. He also decides to read it and to Danny's credit, he tries to stop the record there... only for it to keep playing. The Evil Dead have come baby.

Before we move on I need to talk about the danny thing a bit more, mostly because not only was this whole inciting incident well done, being rooted in character stupidity instead of just bad writing.. but it also feels like a direct response to the last film. For those who either haven't seen it, you blessed people you, or need a refresher, in Evil Dead 2013 the Necronomicon was found in a basement full of rotting corpses and next to a shot gun. it was packed in a garbage back, covered with barb wire, and had bright red writing implicitly from ash telling you NOT TO FUCKING READ IT OUTLOUD.

So enter Eric, full time teacher part time fuckwit who hears about the corpses, sees all of this and not only cuts the barbed wire but READS THE BOOK.

So it's nice the followup decided to use the same plot device.. but actually use it instead of making a character brain dead.

So with that the evil dead has risen and the nightmare time has arrived. And the first victim of the Evil Dead is Ellie, whose experincing some ELEVATED horror while taking the elevated when some cables grab her.

The sequence is quick horrifying and also has her trying in vain to fight off the possesion before the evil dead kills her, and she returns as a deadite.. and as the real breakout of the piece. While Beth is the lead and Lily Sullivan does greath, it's Sutherland whose the main attraction.. and not just because a good half of the audience's reactoin to Deadite Ellie was

Which isn't me, but I entirely get. It's also intresting to have a horror film where the deadite is the real hammy star instead of our hero. Sutherland is iconic in this roll, from the creepy smiles to how unsettling she plays possesed elly: the pitched down voice HELPS.. but it's the unceasing smile, creepy grins and offputting behavior that make Deadite Elly so awesome and so electric to watch. There's good reason her possesion was spoiled int he marketing: She's the center of this film's horror. She's not the only deadite, we'll get a few more, but she's the main threat, the main focus and the main thing fucking with our heroes heads, starting with the brilliant egg sequence where Cronin and Sutherland make simply making eggs fucking unerving.

She's also the main source of black comedy in the film, from calling her children titty sucking parasites, to her game of eeny meeny miney you, to later making her daughter repeat the eyeball gag from 2, her haminess is well played: enough to keep the film from getting TOO bleak but not so overplayed it takes you out of how horrifying thigns are.

Deadite ellie is the biggest symbol of the films tone: Cronin keeps it pitch black like the requel, but unlike that film Cronin realizes that too MUCH bleakness overrides everything else. But giving us characters to root for and want to live through the night and some dark humor, it helps contrast the utterly bleak situation. It gives us something to go what the fuck at with the humor and something to cling on to. I hate that I keep making this review "Whyt his one works and why the remake didn't" as Fede Alvarez seems like a genuinely nice person. This film is good on it's own, not just because I like it more than the other... but it's also impossible to not bring up the two as they tried to do the same thing: bring back the franchise without ash, without contiuing the original story. I don't WANT to keep using the 2013 film as a punching bag... but it's hard not to when this feels like the better version of it, making an evil dead that's closer to straight horror.. but still gets what the franchise is. It keeps the frantic pacing of 2, it just makes it less of an over the top comedy and more an over the top nightmare our heroes can't escape. it's frantic out of urgency rather than out of throwing weird, hilaroius or horrifying shit at y ou constantly. Well except the last part.

Anyways at first everyone just assumes Deadite elly is sick, and they turn to their neighbors, Gabriel (Jayden Daniels) and his father Mr. Fonda (Mick Michelson). Gabe is a kind man implied to have a thing for elly while his father is very mildly crotchety but a kind cat owner , both helping: Gabe tries to treat Elly while his pop pop tries to figure out HOW to get her to help. As it did with the bridge, the Evil has taken out the stairs and already trashed the elvator, leaving a fire escape through a conedemed apartment as thier only escape.

So while gabe and his dad plan to run through, everyone else is left with Elly. We also get a really nice use of modren tech: in most films they usually have to do the "cellphones out" dance, which I understand but got old. Here... what we know about the evil dead from other films provides a nice way... they get no signal.. because it can control that because it can control anything in it's radius. If it can posses a moose head working the wifi shoudln't be that hard.And it thus has Ellie, trapped inside her deadite counterprat clal her sister for help before convulsing.... and whne put inj a tub crawwling out of it

Mayhem ensues as the family has to ward off Deadite Ellie, and we get a lot of nice iconic bits of violence: Ellie's now iconic line of "mommy's with the maggots now", going "eeneie meanie miney you" and using a CHEESE GRATER on her daughter while attacking her in the kitchen. Which while Cronin overhyped it before release, it's a nasty wound but in a film caked in blood, it's still a very creative gore moment in a film packed with them. The gallons of blood I listed before the cut were how many it actually took to make this film. It's another way the film works: it keeps the over the top nature of the series, it just emphasises the horror more, a way to keep the series fredsh but not ignore what made it good.

Our heroes are barely able to lock Ellie out and we get one of the best sequence sin the film: our heroes look in the peep hole.. and we see bits and pieces as Ellie masacres Mr. Fonda, gabriel and two local teens I didn't mention because they literally just hit on Bridget once and then die horribly here. Even Mr. F having a boomstick dosne't save him. And it's stuff like this that works: the high rise on paper is safter, less isolated... but in practice our heroes are nwo trapped in a cramped space, no way out with a bloodthirsty monster wearing their loved one's face. It's a brilliant take.

Naturally as is Evil Dead tradition, the group falls apart a bit: Danny is in tears taking the blame for this and it's again why I like him: he may be stupid.. but while eric just kinda hid we see the toll casuing this put on Danny. Bridget rips him apart for it and normally you'd think one would go outside and die.. but in a nice twist on the old formula Beth stops them: Danny MAY of caused this but they CANNOT turn on each other. It's what's out there that they need to fight.

Speaking of which Deadite Ellie prays on her youngest, gaslighting cassie by pretending to be "all better now"

Though i'll give them points for style. This force Beth and Danny to save her.. and thus leaving them open for Bridget as in a horrifying sequence we see the dead slowly flow thorugh her before she startsb leading black blood out her nose... and becomes the dead.

Another horrifying scuffle insues with her targeting danny and barfing blood on him and nearly killing him before cassie FUCKING IMPALES HER. God damn kid.

They tie bridget up in a sack and Beth finally gets Danny to spill about the book and comes up with a plan: since playing the record got them into this, playing the record will get them out of this.

It's a desperation move.. but like Danny's earlier shenanigans that lead to this blood party.. it makes some sense: they can't read the book, and frankly trying to may just make MORE deadites, and if the guy actually survived long enough to make a third album, it means they MIGHT have a way out. We also get a nice ash style montage of her getting the DJ equipment to work as at this point the power is out. It also nicely makes her music career into a hell of a chekovs gun.

Tragically.. they don't. HIs album simply outlines the horrors idiot priest man faced, what he's lost and how only complete and total dismemberment works. Granted we knew from the intro they probably wouldn't' make it but by this point, the film's got us too invested to care. I still dont' LIKE the intro making it clear this doesn't work from the get go, but at least the films well paced enough to compensate.

Things then get somehow worse as Bridget rises and stabs danny to death, coughing up blood and everything. It's brutal as it is amazingly designed. He does manage to fire her out of the impartment... with fire, while Ellie sneaks in through the vents, something set up by the old man's lost cast earlier.

Ellie attacks Beth and in a VERY unerving moment detects she has a baby inside her, mocks her as deadites do then tries to rip it out.

But before she can get that fetus, kill that feetus and before I can go to hell for that joke, Bridget saves her. And props to Gabrille Echoles for her excellent child acting, an alex vincent level performance.

With our party down to 2 1/3, our heroes ventur eotuside and now EVERYONE'S a deadite. Highlights include Mr Fonda grabbing Ellie's leg as she grabs his boomstick

And my favorite bit.. the two deadite children hovering over a seemingly prone deadite ellie, seemingly crying for thie rmom.. before it turns into dark.. piercing laughter. It's one of the most effective scares in the film and all the deaddites joining in is just chilling. It's a scaled back but effective version of the entire cabin laughing from evil Dead 2

The final girls hide in the elevator as what's left of their family fuses into The Marauder, our final deadite for the evening and a grotesque combination of their family, a grim reminder of what's happened and just a gross thing to look at. As is standard for this film, it's awesome and I love it.

SPeaking of awesome and I love it we then get another destined to be iconic bit: the elevator fills with BLOOD. What's more impressive is they got the scene in one: had they failed they would've had to clean up and start again, which given this scene involves a GIANT pool of pracitcal blood and leaves both characters drenched in it for the rest of the film, is a LOT to as and is a LOT of moving parts to nail on your first try. But they did and the result is a horrifying sequence as the elevator fills, our heroines barely survive..a nd then get tosse dinto the parking garage drenched.

The good news: now they can escape. The bad news is Deadites love final boss fights, so The Marauder is there to oand stalking them. The final fight is a tense sequence as Elly ducks it but thankfully noticces some landscaping equipment. You know what that means... CHAINSAW BLOOD MOTHERFUCKERS

So Elly takeas a fucking chainsaw to it, which gives her an edge, and later uses her fucking boom stick and tells it to "come get some". I like these little nods, obvious enough to notice btu not distracting enough if you haven't seen the other films.

What finally does it in is fucking aawesome though: a goddamn woodchipper. look is a woodchipper being here convient? yes. is the fact the deadites only sent one convient? yes. is Ellie putting a deadite through a goodamn woodchipper with her niece and now adopted daughter turning it on fucking glorious and goryious?

It's a great finale and with that Ellie, her unborn child and her niece head off into the sunset.. while our opening deadite comes into being.

Evil Dead Rise is a glorious new chapter in the franchise: still very much evil dead, but with a darker and somehow even bloodier spin on things. It's a worhty sucessor and very worthy of being the highest grossing film in the franchise, and with that acolade a sequel is hopefully inevitble.

LIke I said Cronin had four ideas, all of them brillian 1. Returning to the Cabin: While admitely I dont' care about those characters, a new cabin in the woods would be neat. This is my least faviorite as the NEXT one.. but I woudln't mind it eventually. 2. Focusing on Ellie: Seeing where she goes next, which I badly want. 3. A prequeL: focusing on the preist. another solid idea. And my faviorite 4. The cleanup crew: returning to the high rise to ask "how the hell would people react to the leftovers of the carnage we just saw".

their all great and with Bruce wanting to return now after this entry, the future is bright and this will likely not be the last time we read from the book of the dead. But it was a great return of it and I can't wait to read the next chapter. Until then hail to the king baby.. and thanks for reading

#evil dead #evil dead rise #lee cronin #halloween #alyssa sutherland #ellie #blood #deadites #hbo max #films #horror

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itsdirector · 4 months

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The New Species 2

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Chapter 2

Subject: Ship-Head Uleena

Species: Urakari

Description: Reptilian humanoid, no tail. 5'3" (1.6 m) avg height. 135 lbs (61 kg) avg weight. 105 year life expectancy.

Ship: RSV Lowelana {Fights with Honor}

Location: Sol

The bridge was silent as we all watched the holographic display of the massive ship that had come to our rescue. The armor plating of the ship gave it the shape of driftwood. Or something an artist would try to create with driftwood before they gave up part of the way through. Flat-semi round and very, very thick plates covered almost the entirety of the vessel with the exception of a few spots. It took me some time to realize that those spots were likely weapon ports. Or maybe even fighter bays.

There were four obvious weapons, two at the top and two at the bottom, pointing in separate directions. Judging from the shape, they had to be some sort of magnetically accelerated cannon. They were bigger than the Lowelana.

"Sir, part of the unknown vessel is opening up and something is detaching from the interior," Kriin informed me in a voice just above a whisper. "It looks like... it's another ship."

A ship that was a little larger than our own separated from the unknown vessel and positioned itself alongside the Lowelana. An even smaller ship then left that one and began a course for us.

"We're being hailed by the small vessel," Liwna croaked, struggling to find his voice.

I cleared my throat and said, "Put them through."

The speaker crackled to life and the voice on the other end said, "RSV Lowelana this is Lieutenant Sergey Babanin of the USSS Valor. Please respond."

"We're here, Lieutenant Sergey Babanin of the USSS Valor. I am ship-head Uleena and this is the RSV Lowelana. You have permission to come aboard," I said, trying to mask the tension in my voice.

This was the worst-case scenario for a first contact from a species outside of the Republic. Indebting ourselves at first contact is definitely going to have some political backlash, especially with some of the more xenophobic member species. You would think that going to war would be, but being indebted to someone you don't know is usually a lose-lose scenario. Either we're out something by repaying the debt, or we don't repay the debt and go to war anyway.

"Uh, well..." Lt. Babanin began hesitantly, "we're not quite ready for boarding yet. We're showing several hull breaches and your structural integrity is... well..."

"Our frame is damaged, we know."

"It's not just damaged, capt... er... ship-head. It's cracked. Your frame is being held together by your hull and your hull has holes in it. If we're not extremely precise with our docking maneuver you're going to fall to bits."

I gave Liwna a bewildered look. He returned my stare with one of his own before looking back at his instrument panel.

"By the Suns, he's right. Apologies ship-head, the damage is much more severe than we originally assessed," he said.

"What can we do?" I asked, trying not to sound panicked. I don't want to lose any more of my crew.

"I... I don't know," Liwna said, nearly losing his composure.

"Don't worry too much ship-head, we're going to be able to extract you," Lt. Babanin interjected. "We are just going to need precision guidance. We're downloading the software required right now."

"Do you have compatible docking equipment? Clamps and such?" I asked.

"Well, we're currently waiting for the download to finish to solidify our plan of action, but I think our best bet is to use an umbilical. Looking at your ship's layout and the holes in it, we can probably attach to the hole in your... I think that's your living quarters? It's the room near your bridge."

I did some mental mapping, "Yes, that's right. That area's sealed off due to depressurization though."

"That won't be a problem," Lt. Babanin said cheerily. "We've brought enough gas to repressurize your entire ship. Once we're attached and the room is repressurized you'll be able to unseal it and exit through the umbilical."

The plan was solid but one thing bothered me, "If you're going to be using an umbilical then why do you need precision guidance software?"

"We're not familiar with your ship's construction methods or composition," he began. "For all we know just getting close to your ship can cause it to break apart due to the forces generated by our proximity. We'll need to be in a position far enough away that we won't be affecting you, aim and guide the umbilical to the proper position, and fire it gently enough that it won't send a shockwave that will shatter your ship."

"Understood," I said, satisfied by the explanation.

"Alright. Do you have pressure suits available?" he asked.

Liwna shook his head and said, "We don't have pressure suits but we do have respirators. They won't last long if we're exposed to vacuum, though."

"Well, that's better than nothing. I suggest you prep them. We'll be in touch when we're ready to begin."

"Acknowledged. Ship-head Uleena, out."

The comms light winked out as the connection was severed. The crew sat in silence for a time, unsure of what to say. Something was bothering me about that interaction, but I couldn't quite place it. It was Kriin who made it click into place.

"Their sensors must be much more advanced than ours," she said in a hushed tone.

"What do you mean?" asked Liwna.

I spoke up, "They were able to tell that our frame was fractured before we were. They were also able to determine our ship's layout to a degree that allowed them to formulate a rescue plan without consulting us. Not only that, but they were able to scan our databases well enough to be able to extrapolate and translate our language."

More silence. We hadn't just indebted ourselves in first contact with an unknown alien species. We'd indebted ourselves with a more advanced unknown alien species. I spent the next few minutes wondering what I should wear to my hearing. I took solace in the fact that what's left of my crew might live.

"We're being hailed, sir," Liwna informed me.

"Open a channel."

Lt. Babanin sounded more cheerful as he said, "We're ready to rescue you. Turns out my plan held up to scrutiny so we'll be proceeding with it. The only change is that we'll be sending some of our people aboard to assist with the evacuation, and I'll be joining the away team. Once everyone is safely off the ship, the USSS Thanatos will scoop it up so we can begin repairs."

Even though it was likely a very accurate description of what will happen, something deeply bothered me about the idea of a ship that can crew 50 people being 'scooped up'.

"Understood," I replied. "You have my permission to board. We'll begin evacuation preparation immediately. I'll see you on the bridge, Uleena out."

The comms light once again flashed off and the crew gathered around the holographic display in anticipation. We watched as the alien ship expertly maneuvered into a position far enough away that its magnetic fields and gravity wouldn't effect us enough to break us into pieces. We held our breath as the umbilical was fired and slowly traveled the distance between us. There was a time delay of half a second so we actually heard the ever-so-soft thud of the umbilical making contact before we saw it.

"The umbilical has hit its mark, and we're holding steady!" Kriin said joyfully.

The tension in the air evaporated as the crew allowed themselves a little celebration. For my part, I exhaled the breath I had been holding in. We're almost safe.

"Don't celebrate too heartily. We'll be having guests soon, and I want everyone on their best behavior. No staring," I said with a smile.

"Short-band signal coming in, sir," Kriin said, holding her hand to her ear, "it's the lieutenant. He and his team are proceeding through the umbilical."

"Okay everyone, respirators on. I want the injured evacuated first. Then the non-essentials. Kriin, Liwna, you'll be evacuating with me," I said with as much authority as I could muster.

"Yes, sir!" the remaining crew said unanimously.

"Sir, they're aboard. The lieutenant is headed this way," Kriin said.

I heard the thudding footsteps before I saw what they belonged to. The first one through the door was huge. I was fooled at first because it had to slump through the door, but then it rose to its full height. At least 6'5" {195 cm} and very wide. It was obviously wearing a pressure suit, but the suit looked more like body armor. The helmet was completely opaque, with what looked like lights and cameras installed. There were thick plates strategically placed on what looked like a rubbery weaved body suit. The body suit was black, but everything else was navy blue.

We were all staring in a shocked silence when the other two monstrosities crouched through the door. They were both 7' {216 cm} tall and wearing a similar pressure suit but in olive drab. Even under such seemingly cumbersome attire, it was obvious that their musculature would put our most avid body-builders to shame. I fought my fight-or-flight instincts as I briefly wondered if they were even organic at all.

"Air's safe, lieutenant," one of the green monsters said.

The one in blue took off his helmet to reveal soft, beige skin with golden high-cut hair. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room like a predator before he affixed his gaze to me. His lips curled in what could be mistaken for a snarl, showing four pointed teeth and several flat ones. This actually set me at ease because I recognized the expression as a smile. Several primate species have similar expressions. Even the Urakari have our own variation.

"You must be cap... ship-head Uleena," it said.

"Y-yes. And you must be lieutenant Babanin. W-welcome aboard," I said, trying my best not to stammer.

"I'm sorry if we look frightening. These are designed to do that, but they're all we had on hand."

"I understand. You're... uh... quite larger than we pictured," I said as I rubbed the back of my neck nervously.

One of the green monsters chuckled slightly. The other turned to look at him with what I assume was a glare.

"The suits add to our size by an inch or two. It doesn't sound like it makes a difference, but it definitely does," he gestured to his left, "This is Corporal Simmons," then he gestured to his right, "This is Lance-Corporal Johnson."

"Nice to meet you," Johnson said in a gruff voice. I nodded in acknowledgment, unable to speak.

"Well then, let's get you rescued, shall we?" Lt. Babanin said with another smile.

I was about to agree when the proximity alert chimed again. This time I definitely recognized the sound. I had been hearing it more and more lately, and the last time I heard it was right before we found ourselves in this situation. My hearts skipped a beat.

Kriin looked up from her station and shouted, "SIR! OMNI-UNION SHIPS!"

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xmystophalesx · 1 year

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Best New Heavy Metal Releases Week of March 10th, 2023

God damnit, I LOVE Heavy Metal music. You would think with just the sheer amount of music I listen to in any given week, it would lead to burnout at some point. I will admit there are stretches through my overall weekly playlist that can get discouraging. This mostly happens when i get a stretch of 4-5 bad albums in a row. Horrid vocals (If you are going to sing clean, you better be able to actually sing), Piss poor production (in the modern age there is no excuse for having a shitty sounding album), ultra generic songwriting (I’m looking at you Metalcore genre! Vary it up a bit for fuck’s sake!). On these albums, I usually bail pretty quick. If the first two tracks are terrible, I will jump around to a couple more and then hit the delete button. Like I said, 4-5 of those in a row can be discouraging, but then you come across a new band that blows you away and BOOM! You get a strong case of the stank face (Thanks Benjamin Yaker for enlightening me on this term…lol) and you remember why you absolutely LOVE this music. This week definitely had some stank face worthy albums. Lets get to those highlights!

Marauder-Metal Constructions (Heavy/Power/Traditional)**

It is no secret that one of the best Heavy Metal scenes in the world is in Greece. Not exactly sure why but I know whenever I come across a band hailing from Greece, I always look forward to it as it is rarely disappointing. Marauder is no exception. Killer blend of Traditional Metal mixed with some Power Metal tempos and tinges of Thrash Metal aggression here and there. I hear some Iced Earth influences here without the band actually sounding like Iced Earth, if that makes any sense. This is a very easy album to recommend to any fan of Metal.

Evil X-Hell Reigns Down (Heavy)**(jan 11)

One outstanding Traditional Metal album deserves another. Not sure how I missed this in the beginning of January as weak as the beginning of the year was. If you are a fan of that 80s metal sound, this album will definitely scratch that itch. Riffs for days that make it impossible NOT to bang your head as you listen. I get a strong Accept influence out of this one and that will always be a great thing in my book.

Brundarkh-Those Born of Fire & Shadow (Symphonic/Melodic Death/Black)**

I’m a big fan of Dimmu Borgir and the way they blend Symphonic elements into their Black Metal. Brundarkh does something very similar while also adding some Melodic Death Metal influences as well. This album just sounds heavy as fuck, while at the same time having moments that come across as feeling uplifting at the same time. The dichotomy of this is what really drew me into this album. Even if Dimmu is not your thing, give this one a chance, it may surprise you.

Nanowar of Steel-Dislike to False Metal (Heavy Power/Hard Rock)**

I’m not really one for parody music but I will make exceptions if it is done exceedingly well and that is the case with Nanowar of Steel. This is just a fun album to listen to. Will it impact your life and one you will remember when you are in an assisted living facility and you start singing “Disco Metal” inbetween your pudding cups? Probably not, but it IS a damn fun album. I mention the track “Disco Metal” as I think this shows the talent level of this band. Yes, they are making a joke but I would contend this would be a legitimate hit song in dance clubs. Listen to the track and tell me i’m wrong…lol

Tribe of Pazuzu-Blasphemous Prophecies (Death/Black)**

Earlier I mentioned the term “stank face”. It was regarding this album. This is the face you make when those filthy riffs and blazing leads feel like they are going to melt your face with just how damn good they are. This album is only 29 minutes in length but it feels like they pack 3 albums’ worth of riffs into this thing. Add to all of this some of the best drumming I have heard on an album so far this year and you have one of the very best Blackened Death Metal albums I have ever heard. Looking them up on the Metal Pages for some background info and the reason this is so damn good becomes instantly clear. Guitars courtesy of John McEntee (Incantation) and the insane drum work courtesy of Flo Mounier (Cryptopsy). It really doesn’t get better than this in this genre.

That will do it for another week of killer Metal music that reaffirms your love of heavy music. To think my mom thought this was a phase I was going through 43 years ago….lol Listen to music and fill your soul with happiness. Until next week and, as always,

BANG THY HEAD!!!

All worthy of a listen if you like the genre

*= standout in that genre

**=best of the week regardless of genre

Best of the Week

Tribe of Pazuzu-Blasphemous Prophecies (Death/Black)**

Seventh Crystal-Wonderland (Hard Rock)*?

Brundarkh-Those Born of Fire & Shadow (Symphonic/Melodic Death/Black)**

Evil X-Hell Reigns Down (Heavy)**(jan 11)

Frozen Crown-Call of the North (Power)**

Nanowar of Steel-Dislike to False Metal (Heavy Power/Hard Rock)**

Marauder-Metal Constructions (Heavy/Power/Traditional)**

Asphagor-Pyrogenesis (Black)**

Sacrificium-Oblivion (Death/Melodic)**

Standouts in their Genre

Altar of I-Human Resources (Melodic Death)*

Echoes of Bronze-Ilium (Power/Progressive)*

Periphery-V:Djent is not a Genre (Progressive/Djent)*

Monolyth-We’ve Caught the Sun (Heavy/Thrash)*

Enshrined-The Grand Failure (Thrash/Death)*

Reboot the System-The Fall (Melodic Death/Thrash)*

Trollgrad-Tales of Gold Fever (Folk/Viking)*

Depraved Murder-Unethical Terrestrial Collapse (Brutal Death)*

Alwaid-Twelve Daemons (Symphonic/Heavy)*

Damage SFP-Punished By The System (Thrash)*

Weight of Emptiness-Withered Paradogma (Melodic Doom/Death)*

Nepenthes-Grand Guignol (Doom)*

Sonambula-Estasis Interrumpida (Death)*

Exelerate-Exelerate (Thrash)*

Ice Age-Waves of Loss and Power (Progressive)*

Dreamlore-Strength Beyond Death (Death)*

Triumpher-Storming the Walls (Progressive Heavy/Power)*

The Fallen Prophets-Perpetual Damnation (Melodic Death)*

Noxium Ferus-Blasphemicon (Death/Black)*

Goat Explosion-Threatening Skies ((Heavy/Doom)*

Gorod-The Orb (Technical Death/Progressive)*

Intrepid Bloom-Missing Link (Hard Rock)*

Prediction-Unholy Flame (Black/Thrash)*

Worth A Listen

Qwalen-Syva Hiljaisuus (Black)

Incatombe-Ytra (Brutal Death)

Virtusira-We Will Writhe (Progressive Death)

Nomad-The Mountain (Progressive Death)

I’ll Omen-March of Decay (Thrash/Speed/Raw)

Whipworm-Gozer (Death/Thrash)

Burden of Ymir-Heorot (Black/Folk)

Pick of the week goes to Tribe of Pazuzu with 5 bulldogs judging your stank face out of 5.

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Hold Me Close | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader, ex Namjoon x Reader (ft. brother Jimin)

Genre/Tags: brother’s best friends au; (dash of) angst, fluff (sort of), smut

Warnings: foul language, feelings of insecurity, minor accident caused by inebriation, getting drunk, sexual content (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!), JK has a hip tattoo and at some point has grey hair (18+)

Word count: 22k

Summary: When Jimin hits a crisis, he enlists the help of his older sister - you - and his best friend, Jungkook, to put the pieces back again. That proves to be difficult when 1) Jimin’s a brat and a certified pain in the ass, and 2) Jungkook has grown and suddenly, you can’t keep your eyes off him.

A/N: I wanted to write something fun for a change and saw @ladyartemesia‘s brother’s best friend list and thought it would be a nice trope to explore because if there would be an ideal bratty younger brother, it would be Jimin. This was sooo much fun to write but also reminded me again of why I love my baby sister more than anyone in this world. Hope you all enjoy!

Three - the number of missed calls you probably now have just in the last 5 minutes, the vibrations piercing through your pocket and onto your thigh. It might be important, but so is keeping your attention on the department Director to your right, who is complimenting the man to your left, over a proposal that you spent weeks working on.

You force a smile because in front of your entire department isn’t really the time and place to refute and complain. It doesn’t help that Chul accepts the credit because anything to get ahead, right?

Just another reason why you dislike this job. Perhaps your boss telling you that you’re too emotional or too soft to be in this industry has gotten to you, but then again, there’s not a bone in you that’s ambitious and competition-craved, unlike your parents. But you try, at least. It’s the least you can do for something that’s expected of their eldest child.

The Director flips a page and turns to you. “Glad you could contribute to this, Ms. Park.”

He did assign it to you but you suppose your name just flew off his head, but you remind him anyway.

“Thank you for the opportunity to work on it, Mr. Yoon. I’m truly learning a lot,” you fake a smile and wish for this to end.

Soon enough it does and you bow towards the managers present, one of them giving you the compliment you needed to hear, and excuse yourself before another call comes in.

Best brother ever, the screen announces, and you curse yourself for still not changing his contact name and for having an easy-enough password to guess.

“I swear to god, Jimin, this better be an emergency,” you cuss to the person on the other end, already boiling at the thought of him possibly calling to ask how to fix a broken toilet or what kind of oil he’s supposed to buy for frying because he’d done both too many times for you to count.

“___!” The sound of a relieved huff is what greets you, the voice familiar.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah, hi,” he says. “Uh, we’re at the hospital.”

Your eyes widen and you scold yourself for missing the calls, but then again, you wouldn’t have known because Jimin’s wolf cries precede this moment of an actual emergency.

“What? Why! Is my brother okay?” You cry out, hands already working on collecting your files and feet rushing towards your desk to pack up.

“Yeah,” Jungkook affirms. “He’s fine. He just—“

“I AM NOT FINE!” You hear your brother shriek in the background, sound a little soft due to distance but you don’t miss the farcical tone of his statement.

“Dude, it’s just a sprained ankle. You’ll live,” Jungkook tells him calmly, away from the phone.

You sigh in relief because Jungkook is definitely the person to believe in times like this.

“From 1 to Jimin, how dramatic is he?” You ask.

“Jimin. Times two.”

“Damn, okay. That actually seems worse than the injury itself huh?”

Jungkook laughs in agreement.

“I’m just packing. I’ll go to you guys right after.”

“Alright. General Hospital, emergency room. Just follow the tone of the weeping man-child.”

“I feel so empty. What am I gonna do with my life now!” You hear in the background.

You laugh at your brother’s antics because you’ve heard that exact line not long ago after his building owner told him again that he can’t have a pet in the apartment. But who knows with Jimin this time around?

“Got it. See you in a bit,” you say, then head out to hail a cab.

You arrive in the emergency room and follow the sound of the weeping man-child and true enough, you see your baby brother lying on the bed with his right leg nestled on pillows, ice taped on the swollen ankle.

You rush to his side and assess if there’s any other part that’s being treated. “What the hell happened to you?” You worriedly ask. “Is this because of work? God, Jimin. I told you that company overworks you! You don’t even get enough rest.”

Behind you, you could hear muffled laughter, and paired with your brother’s sheepish smile, you could already tell he got it over something silly. He’s avoiding your gaze, causing your worry to turn to frustration.

You cross your arms and you give him a stern look. “Park Jimin, look at me and tell me what happened.”

He plays with the hem of the blanket draped over him and with a sickly sweet smile, the one he uses on you to get himself out of trouble, he says, “I may have drank and perhaps had my foot stuck in a gutter and I may also have moved about when Jungkook told me to stay still and well…” Arms laid out before him as if in presentation, “here I am!”

He’s beaming, as if it’s something to be proud of. You know it’s his tactic but still, your brother’s ability to go from one reaction to another astounds you.

You turn to Jungkook for confirmation and he nods at the accuracy and absurdity of the situation, causing a worried feeling in the pit of your stomach because how the hell are you going to explain this to your parents?

“You forgot the part about you screaming that you hate men and you don’t want to love anymore,” Jungkook adds. It’s classic Jimin that it actually makes you laugh.

You, as his older sister and Jungkook, as his best friend of 15 years, should be used to this already but your brother is plucked from a classic romcom as the hot mess character and that carries with it amusement and predictability.

You're about to ask for an elaboration to put more context in the scene that’s playing in your head of a crying Jimin flailing his arms and a bemused but laughing Jungkook trying to shut him up, when the doctor comes in.

She checks the clipboard then on Jimin.

“Thankfully, there’s nothing broken,” she says, jotting down on a pad. She starts instructing how to properly wrap the ankle, prompting Jungkook to stand next to you and Jimin to nip at his fingernails because the brat won’t even pay attention to how to care for his own injured foot.

After handing you the prescription, the doctor tells Jimin, “We’ll just wrap you up with a cast and give you the crutches then you can head home.”

“So I’m not staying?” He asks.

“No need,” the doctor clarifies. “It’s just sprained but it will take several weeks to properly heal and it will be sore for a while,” she states, then calls a nurse and instructs him to prepare the supplies.

“You said you’re a dance instructor? The injury was aggravated by previous mild sprains so I require complete rest. You absolutely cannot move. Just stay in bed and follow the instructions I’ve written down.”

You and Jungkook release a sigh of relief, thankful that it’s nothing serious, the concern over what prompted his outburst temporarily at the back of your mind, until Jimin speaks up.

“But, something else feels broken.”

“What is it?” The doctor asks, suddenly worried and checks the board for anything she might’ve missed.

“My heart.”

“Yah!” You smack Jimin’s arm in embarrassment, which he returns with a smack on yours, a common sight for you both and Jungkook who’s bared witness to the violence you and your brother inflicted upon each other growing up.

The doctor rolls her eyes. “She’ll come back,” she says, then heads towards the door.

Jimin scrunches his nose in annoyance. “She’s a he, by the way!” He shouts, causing the others present to turn to him, as if such a situation is scandalous.

“Do… you have a boyfriend I don’t know about?” You nervously ask.

While your 3-year gap sibling relationship is rooted in violence that’s caused bruises, buckets of tears, timeouts, and your parents almost giving up on making you two get along at many points of your lives, you and Jimin have somehow grown up and have found the right balance of telling each other important things while also staying out of each other’s business.

The “growing up” only happened midway through his college life, when he realized that even with his best friend next to him, you were still his lifeline in the big city of Seoul and the only other reminder of home.

Because even with him knowing what it takes to make it in the competitive entertainment industry as a choreographer, in his heart, he’s still the younger child who’s used to being taken care of. That meant regularly demanding your presence in his dorm when he was still studying and then crashing your place when he’d started working. For food, mostly. The ranting about things just came naturally after.

“It’s Tae,” he shyly reveals, meeting your eyes for the first time and suddenly, he’s your little brother again, the one whose snacks you used to prepare or whose wounds you used to treat when your parents weren’t home or were too tired from work.

“Your roommate?”

“Yeah. He left today because he got this photography gig where he gets to travel the world.”

“I didn’t know you had a thing,” you say.

“We didn’t,” he huffs out in frustration. “I didn’t know I liked him until he said he booked a one-way ticket and didn’t know when he'd be coming back. And he was so excited and I was really happy for him but also felt like it was too late. Like should I have said anything? What if he felt the same way? Would he have stayed?” He sighs, looking sullen this time.

“He may have, or he would still be taking the trip. Regardless, no one should be giving up on dreams for anybody, Chim. That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” you say, not meaning to sound as if you’re reprimanding him, but the look he gives is enough to tell you that he understands. He’s heard variations of that same sentiment before, anyway.

Jungkook feels the tension in the air and breaks it by stating that he’ll be driving everybody home.

“I’ll be staying with my sister,” Jimin announces, his annoying smile now back, and he knows you can’t say no; by obligation or by choice, you won’t tell.

“There goes my weekend,” you gripe.

“I won’t be a nuisance, I promise,” he says then crosses his heart, like it actually means anything.

“You’re a nuisance even when you’re not injured, what more now?”

“I’m not that bad,” he defends.

“Oh, but you are.” You turn to Jungkook. “You know, I actually tried to push him back in our mom’s vagina but even her uterus didn’t want him anymore.”

“Ouch okay, I will pretend I didn’t hear that,” and you all laugh as Jimin is transferred to the wheel chair and pushed by the nurse, signaling Jungkook to go ahead and retrieve his car.

You arrive at your apartment with a Jimin-clad Jungkook in tow, the worry of not having cleaned up quickly dissipating because this is your brother, and he shouldn’t complain.

Jungkook assists Jimin in the bathroom while you set up your bed by piling up pillows for his foot.

“I don’t have clean sheets for the sofa bed in the other room,” you say, “and it’s not cleaned up, as I didn’t expect to house an injured child this weekend. Just sleep on my bed first.”

Jungkook guides Jimin to your bed and helps him settle in, with your brother looking all smug with the treatment he’s getting because he knows you don’t give up your bed that easily.

“What about you?” Jungkook asks, seemingly more worried about your inconvenience than the actual cause of it.

“I’m fine with the couch. Wouldn’t wanna sleep here with him and accidentally hit his foot. He might murder me or something.”

“Thanks, Sis. I’m very comfortable here. I think I’ll be sleeping well tonight,” Jimin states, then yawns, drowsiness kicking in from the medication.

You roll your eyes and close the door. You lead Jungkook to your kitchen and offer him a drink.

“I’m sorry for him, Kook. Did he drag you out of work?” You ask.

“Just had to call the tattoo parlor and reschedule my Friday appointments,” he says, downing the glass of water. “He was pretty emotional over the phone and wanted to drink at 4PM and well, you know the rest.”

“Ugh, such a pain in the ass,” you mutter, massaging your temples. “But was he serious about the whole Tae thing?”

“Seemed like it. I think it just took an abrupt change for him to realize what he felt,” he explains. “But you know him - falls fast, moves on faster. He’ll be okay. You’re here,” he continues, flashing you his bunny smile, the one that used to cause you to pinch his puffy cheeks out of cuteness.

But that’s when he was a lanky 10-year old with his awkward front bangs. The man in front of you now sports long dark locks and a sharp jawline, tattooed arms and probably a built figure, if the way he carried your brother as if he’s a feather is any indication of his strength. His bambi eyes, usually scrunched large nose, and child-like smile are the only things that remain from that memory of him.

“You know I can’t stand my brother for long periods of time, Kook,” you pout, earning you an amused laugh.

“He actually already invited me over the weekend, asked me to bring my PS4 so we could play.”

“That bitch has to rest, what is he talking about?”

“Same thing I told him. I’ll just make up some reason that my player caught fire or that I dropped it while running or something.”

You give him a straight face. “The hell would he buy that? You can just not bring it.”

“I’m just gonna match his drama,” Jungkook shrugs, earning him your laugh, which for him is all tones of sweet and soothing.

A smile forms on his face at the thought of making you laugh like this, something he secretly enjoys. This particular sound would most likely be etched in his mind, among the several others that he caused.

There was that time when you caught him doing chubby bunny as a consequence and seeing him stuffed with marshmallows made you secretly giggle because 15-year old you didn’t want to indulge in their silly antics; Jungkook heard it though.

There was that other time during Jimin’s 14th birthday at an arcade, Jungkook went over the basketball game’s railing to get the highest score and you alternated between scolding him and laughing your butt off. He snuck the tickets he won in your pile though so you would have enough to get the Tinkerbell tea set because he knew your obsession with fairies.

When you visited home for their high school graduation, you all cooked dinner and he overdid the glazed sweet potatoes, causing them to get stuck on the plate. You tried to hold your laugh but gave up once he started dancing; he was so embarrassed but that’s when he knew he’d willingly make a fool of himself to hear you laugh like that.

And 3 years ago, your large group of friends went on a ski trip. He was attempting to run up the slope but kept sliding, and even from a distance, he could pick out which laughter was yours; it was probably the only remedy to an otherwise heartbreaking weekend, considering that you were there with your then-boyfriend, Namjoon.

Reminiscing those causes his heart to feel like floating, like always, then the words “nobody dates my sister” pulls that heart down to crash into reality, like always, too, the reality being that you’re his best friend’s older sibling.

You’ve been off-limits since Jimin threatened Jungkook and their other friends about cutting off their dicks if anybody tried to date you when they were 16, but you were probably off-limits even before that. Jungkook mentally shakes his head.

He doesn’t like being told what to do but then again, Jimin is his best friend, the tiny feisty 10-year old who fought off the bullies who tried to take Jungkook’s snacks. It had been them against the world since then, and so far, the only person he thinks who’d ever come between them is you.

Jungkook is pulled out of his thoughts at your call of his name, prompting you to repeat what you just said.

“I said, thanks again for being there for my brother like, ever since. If it was just me I would’ve disowned him a long time ago.”

Jungkook giggles, already used to the drama that is your sibling relationship. He’d witnessed too many wrestling matches, scream fests, and pulled pranks in the last 15 years. While you’ve both gone past those, your complaints about each other is something you haven’t really outgrown yet.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t disown him,” Jungkook chuckles, the words ‘he’s the only link I have to you’ quickly dissipating in his mind.

“You know he just craves your attention and riling you up is the way he does it, younger sibling and all. I would’ve done that if my brother wasn’t 7 years older. Jimin tends to be immature around you but he’s the best person I know. I wouldn’t have survived anything if it weren’t for him.”

This brings a smile to your face, their origin story warming your heart more than you care to admit. Your brother is fierce and a fighter, you’d give him that.

“Well, he’s just as lucky to have you, Kook.”

It’s the tenderness in your voice that makes him feel like he’d just won a prize, and he wishes you don’t notice the flush of his cheeks. If you do, you don’t mention it, because not long after, you say that you’ll wash up, signaling him that it’s time to go.

Jungkook drives home that night feeling like his pre-adolescent self, the giddy feeling of when you first pinched his cheeks the same one he feels right now. It’s when he first developed his crush on you - you’d been arguing with Jimin and said you wished he was as behaved and as adorable as Jungkook, prompting your brother to point out Jungkook’s large nose, which you responded with by saying it adds to his charm.

Petty fights, like always, but it’s when you told him to not listen to what other people say if they’re out to put him down did Jungkook realize that you and Jimin were cut from the same cloth.

Soon after, every little moment with you, every glimpse of your life outside of being his best friend’s sister became more and more enthralling to him. The fact that you were getting prettier each year just served to solidify his affection for you. And also made it difficult to hide his hard-on every time you’d show up for breakfast in your cloth shorts when he’d sleep over your parents’ house, or when he’d see you in your pretty outfits in the bars you all frequented once he was in Seoul for college.

He’d let himself think of you during the times he wasn’t in a relationship, and he’d slowly let go of the bit of hope he’d have every time you were in one, partly because your relationships were usually long-term, compared to his, and also because your ex-boyfriends were nothing like him, which is safe to say that he wasn’t your type.

Maybe it was the age, the level of maturity, maybe it was the sense of security, maybe he’s just not the kind of guy who could give you what you want, although honestly he doesn’t know exactly what that is.

But if Namjoon - your intelligent, upstanding, businessman ex-boyfriend who was also really handsome and kind - and your subsequent heartbreak are anything to go by, then Jungkook is clearly reaching for the stars with you. Not that you’re out of his league, but he’s more like in the outskirts, just lying in the edges, the border between what’s possible and what isn’t, but definitely far from the center of action. Even tonight, the most time you’d spent together in years that wasn’t in a party, was because Jimin had been hurt.

If anything, though, his long standing admiration for you hadn’t really gone away. And he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

The weekend with Jimin staying with you wasn’t that unbearable, primarily because he was rendered immobile on your bed and was usually sleepy. You were thankful that Jungkook dropped by to keep your brother company while you caught up on errands and chores.

With another work week coming filled with meetings and events, you had Jimin stay with Jungkook first. He insisted it wasn’t a bother; his work as a freelance artist and a part-time tattooist gives him control of his time.

It’s the weekend after the incident when you hear a knock on the door, not expecting to see Jimin with his casted ankle and crunches; behind him are 3 large luggages and a few boxes.

You’re just about to process the sight before you when he says, “I got sacked from the company when I said I couldn’t get back to work next week. And I can’t afford to pay rent anymore, even if I get a roommate and I…” he turns to you, almost shameful, “I have nowhere else to go.”

You sigh because really, your relationship with your brother is hinged on fights you don’t really mean, pettiness that drives you crazy, and an unconditional love that you both deny but undeniably share. So you open the door wider and laugh at his “you’re the best sister in the world” claim and your usual response of “you only have one.”

Jungkook arrives with the last box and you help bring in all the stuff that seems never-ending, making you wonder how these fit in his car and how he managed to bring everything, including your brother.

“Park Jimin, you have so much stuff! You might as well have hired a mover,” you cry out.

“Oh I did,” Jimin answers, pointing to Jungkook.

You cock an eyebrow because obviously, movers get paid.

“I told him you said you’re gonna make us dinner.”

“Except I didn’t,” you scrunch your eyebrows and turn to Jungkook, amused at his sudden change of expression, bambi eyes widening at his innocence.

“I swear, he seemed so convincing,” Jungkook claims, hands held up as if in surrender. He bites his lips and looks at the ground. “I can just go, really. I’ll just force him to treat me to lunch when he’s healed and I can wrestle him if he doesn’t.”

“Don’t be silly, Kook. Stay for dinner,” you crack a smile. You walk to your kitchen and take out the pork belly to thaw. “I won’t make you steak though. That’s reserved for my wine nights when I want to bask in my singleness,” you call out.

“Also,” you turn to Jimin, “you don’t deserve my steak.”

Your brother laughs, knowing that it’s your way to mask the kindness you’re showing.

Later that night, with dinner out of the way and your spare bedroom set up for Jimin to stay, you guide him to the sofa bed and make sure his foot is elevated, bell just within his reach that you instructed him to ring when he needs you.

“Thanks, ___. You—”

“Are the best sister in the world, I know,” you cut him off.

“I was gonna say you should get some rest and to not worry about me. I’ll be fine,” he smiles.

You nod and head out the room, the worried look on your face not going unnoticed by Jungkook, who’d just finished wiping the dishes.

“Everything okay, ___?”

You heave out a sigh.

“What the fuck am I gonna do with him, Kook?” You ask, the reality of your injured and now unemployed brother dawning on you. “What am I gonna tell my parents?”

Oddly enough, it’s when you and Jimin were finally adults did your parents think to check up on you both. Perhaps living under the same roof didn’t warrant that, but with both children now living independently hundreds of miles away from them, they’ve ensured to call every week. Your conversations mostly revolve around Jimin, though, the words “take care of your brother” not having an expiration date, apparently.

You know the weight of the words - it’s not just because you’re older but because by your parents’ standards, you’re also the more stable and financially secure one by nature of your 9-5 corporate job in a fancy building that requires you to wear corporate attires, in contrast to Jimin’s late-nights in a dance studio busting moves in sweats.

Your parents are partial to your kind of work, given that they’ve spent more than half their lives in the same field and always wished you’d both do the same, even if you promised yourself you wouldn’t give in to the world that took so much of your parents’ time from you.

Much as you want to believe you’re just doing your job as the older child by entering the industry, you were too much of a people-pleaser who just wanted to make her parents proud.

Jimin, on the other hand, was smart enough to only apply to the performing arts programs of prestigious universities in Seoul and was good enough to actually land a scholarship in the same school as you; your parents were backed in a corner and couldn’t do anything.

You’d never tell Jimin but you always admired him for that; it takes a lot to stand up to your parents without actually standing up to them. You’re just glad that between the both of you, someone was brave enough to go for what they genuinely wanted.

“Tell them the truth?” Jungkook shrugs. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You act like you don’t know what my parents are like.”

True, Jungkook thinks, but he also knows things have improved on their end. “Well, if anything, they’re more receptive now. They would congratulate Jimin on the choreographies they’d see those idol groups dance. They ask him about work, too.”

You smile at the thought, something your brother never mentioned, but you can imagine how happy that might’ve made him. Jimin, as you’ve found out, is a sweetheart to his friends - affectionate in all ways and very expressive - something he isn’t to you and your parents. The same can be said about you, and you soften at the thought that you and Jimin really aren’t that much different from each other.

Jungkook picks up on the thoughts going through your head. “He probably didn’t tell you because you know him, he’d go all soft if he does, and Jimin has this persona when it comes to you. And it isn’t the soft one.”

“Goes both ways, I guess.”

“It’s not the end of the world, and he doesn’t seem to think so. He’s going to be fine.”

Jimin, in all sense of the word, is not fine. It took a few days until he cracked. He went from being an obedient patient who followed the doctor’s order of staying in bed, to one who constantly walked around and complained that he had nothing to do.

Going on dating apps makes him sad, looking at job openings makes him sad, not being able to move and dance makes him sad. And your heart breaks for him, knowing what it’s like to lose your sense of direction and motivation at the loss of something or someone important. You allow him to let out his frustrations, though, listen to him when he rants, feed him his favorite food, and call Jungkook over with his PS4 that isn’t actually broken.

In fact, calling Jungkook has been your go-to, especially when you’re running out of things to say to comfort Jimin. Most times it’s really just so they could play PS4 together, prompting Jungkook to leave it at your place so Jimin could stay preoccupied and not feel too down when the job lists come up empty. He tires easily though, and it’s after he’s been tucked in bed that you usually settle for a cup of tea in the kitchen, Jungkook now the one listening to you talk.

It usually starts with the topic of Jimin, followed by some memory from your childhood that you and Jungkook get hysterical over, followed by a story about your work, and then a story about his. His stories are more interesting though. He shows you the paintings and digital pieces he makes for clients, and tells you amusing bits about his tattooing gig like amusing patterns and memorable customers.

Hearing all this sends warmth through you because of how much he’s grown. While you’re only 3 years older, you met Jungkook when he was a shy 10 year-old, a complete opposite to you and Jimin’s naturally sociable selves. He went from smiling sheepishly to joking around and giving you high-fives in the 5 years before you went to Seoul to study.

Of course he’s grown when he followed your brother to the same university, having seen him with different girls, going to the same parties because your friends had taken a liking to him, and attending his art exhibitions. He went from greeting you under his breath to calling out to you at a bar while he’s surrounded by his peers.

This was the kid who used to follow your brother around - even joined the dance club in high school - and would dunk his head in water if you asked him to, but now he’s forged his own path, doing what he loves, and enjoying every bit of his time that he controls.

Personally, you’re also just happy that he can be available for your brother and for you, too, seeing that the nights you used to spend forcing yourself to sleep are now spent in good conversation with him.

He’s also gotten way more attractive in the past few years, something you’ve only noticed now. Perhaps it has much to do with the physical closeness when you talk - your kitchen bar isn’t that long, anyway - where you’re able to pay more attention to his defined jawline, his dark eyes that anybody could get lost in, the curve of his nose, and the perfectly-placed beauty marks on his face. Come to think of it, maybe Jungkook has always been handsome, but you stop your thoughts before they go anywhere restricted.

It’s one Saturday night when you arrive home, after having drinks with your friends, to a very drunk Jimin and a tipsy Jungkook, gorging on fried chicken. Just thinking of cleaning up is already giving you a headache, which is aggravated by your brother’s drunk singing of classic yet cringey sad love songs.

“Yah! Look at the mess you’ve made,” you smack Jimin’s arm, pointing to the chicken crumbs on the floor. “And alcohol, seriously? You can barely walk properly and now you’re drinking?”

“I’m injured, unemployed, homeless, and heartbroken. Leave me alone,” is all he says, then proceeds to belt out an insanely high note that pierces your ears and which causes Jungkook to laugh, used to this already and may have been enduring this the past hour or so.

“He’s been like this for the past 4 hours,” Jungkook says.

“And you let him?”

At the final high note, Jimin passes out on the couch, body limp over the empty space to his left.

“He wanted to drink his frustrations away, thought it might help,” Jungkook responds.

You sigh in annoyance but think he’s right, too. Jimin was out drinking his frustrations the night he got injured but at least now he’s doing it in the safety of your home.

“I guess,” you shrug. “Can you take him to his room before he severs his neck?”

Jungkook laughs but follows. He carries Jimin over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and you pretend to not look hot and bothered at how easily he could carry your dead-weight brother.

You follow to the room shortly and place an aspirin and orange juice on the side table, knowing it’s Jimin’s hangover drink. You remove the strands of hair that have stuck to his forehead and tuck him under the covers.

Jungkook looks at you fondly; for someone who always claims you should’ve disowned her brother, you sure have a very affectionate way of showing it.

You step out of the room and take in Jungkook’s tipsy state, red cheeks and glassy eyes giving him away.

“You should stay,” you tell him. “You drank and I doubt you’d sober up anytime soon, but try anyway.”

He nervously accepts but not for the reasons you think. He’s nervous because aside from those sleepovers at your house when you were younger, this is the first time he’s sleeping under the same roof as you, and that makes him giddy but anxious at the same time. He hopes you don’t catch him mid-dream saying your name; that would be too awkward to explain.

He goes back to the living room post-shower, a blanket and large pillow on the couch and you, tucked in the corner with a glass of juice.

“Did you want to sleep already? I can go to my room if you are.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m not that sleepy yet, you can stay.”

He refuses your offer of a drink. Unsure of the appropriate distance from you now that there’s space to go around, he settles on the other end of the couch. You smile at him as he sinks on the corner and he smiles back as you take baby sips from the glass. You both settle in comfortable silence, appreciating the quiet as a reprieve from the mind-numbing noise from earlier.

You take a big gulp and he couldn’t hold the chuckle at your wide eyes hidden behind the glass.

“So I’m guessing your hangover drink is apple juice?” He asks, not missing the similarity with your brother.

“Yeah. Jimin hates it so I’m sure he’ll never take it. He used to finish all the orange juice at home and I was mad because I wanted orange juice, too,” you say with a pout. Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at how adorable you look and goes for an ah, that’s why face because he remembers you fighting Jimin over it before.

“So you just switched to apple juice?”

“Yeah, pretty much. It’s really good. I thought he’d switch too just to annoy me but he said he really doesn’t like it.”

“Look at you two, being all civilized for once,” Jungkook teases. You throw a pillow at him and laugh at his comment, but you don’t disagree.

“Yah! We’ve always been civilized, okay?”

“Now that is a lie. May I remind you of the time you two wrestled in front of me over a piece of pop tart. How you tackled him to the ground and he pulled your hair and the innocent treat was crushed in the process.”

“Hey, I was 15 and I called dibs on the strawberry!”

“Or that time you both wanted to watch different movies and had me choose and I felt like I was signing a death sentence either way? But it didn’t matter because you still got into a pillow fight?”

“His choices were always so boring!”

“Or that time when…” You throw him another pillow.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. We weren’t always civilized,” you give up, laughing so hard with him at the memories. “You witnessed the worst parts of us, huh?”

“I didn’t really have a choice, did I?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow.

“Well, you were the only one who stayed. The rest of your friends would run out once Jimin and I started going at it.”

He laughs at this because if only you knew why he always stayed. He actually liked that you’d let him referee you two, he felt wanted.

“Hmm, it takes a lot to handle the Park siblings, I don’t blame them.”

“Wow, Jeon Jungkook. Calling out your elder. Where is this bravery coming from?” You tease.

“I drank, remember?”

“Not much though.”

He shrugs. He doesn’t know, too, but he likes seeing you look flustered. “Enough liquid courage, I guess.”

You deem his answer satisfactory but it does make you recall all those petty fights growing up.

“Sorry you had to witness all that,” you say, giving him a shy smile. “Our personalities were always just clashing and it was harder not to fight each other.”

“I think you two are just so similar, that’s why.”

You look at Jungkook, eyes wide at the statement you’d only ever thought to yourself.

“He thinks the world of you, you know?” He continues, sensing your now serious demeanor. “He used to tell the mean older kids that you’re his sister and you’ll fight them if they hurt him because he just knows you’d protect him no matter what.”

You laugh and roll your eyes but Jungkook knows you agree.

“For schoolwork, he would always write about you as his role model or the person he looks up to.” Jungkook doesn’t miss how your eyes soften at this. “He never found out that I knew but I’ve read parts, how he wanted to be strong and kind like you, to be independent and smart and hardworking like you.”

Maybe it’s the remnants of alcohol, or this apple juice is just fucking delicious but you’re getting emotional.

“And honestly, I don’t think that’s changed. He’ll always look up to you, whether he’ll say it or not.”

And there goes the water works, causing panic in Jungkook and he immediately goes to you. Noticing your non-movement, he uses the edges of his hoodie to wipe the tears that have begun flowing from your eyes. He stills for a moment but seeing how you haven’t pushed him away, he continues.

You look up at him with watery eyes and quivering lips. Somehow you should be embarrassed but something about Jungkook having seen the worst of you and being nothing but a huge help these past few weeks, you feel safe. No judgment whatsoever, just an air of understanding and care.

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask, and Jungkook feels weak at how you look. He didn’t mean to make you sad but all he wants to do now is hug you until you feel better.

“Because you’ve been so worried and so hard on yourself, as if it’s only your burden to carry.”

You try to object but he cuts you. “Jimin’s an adult. He’s crying and drinking and sulking but that’s normal. He’ll be fine and get himself together. I know that. Even he knows that. You know why? Because it’s what he’s seen you do.” Jungkook wipes another stray tear.

“Whether it’s a breakup or a work thing, he’s seen you take hits but never back down, never let anybody walk all over you, never let them take away the best parts of you. He’s struggled before, too, but he always got back up.”

“He’s good and strong that way,” you reply softly.

“Like I said, he has a good role model,” he smiles, nudging your shoulder.

It’s meant to be playful but it’s comforting for you, and you’re leaning on his shoulder before you know it, ignoring the way he briefly stills at your action.

“You’re a good person, Kook. We’re lucky to have you.”

You’re so close to him and he can feel the heat radiate from you. It’s too quiet that he’s afraid you’d hear the thrumming of his heart, from your words and the affection behind your still head on his shoulder. The situation calls for it, he thinks, so he lays his hand on your back and rubs circles on it.

He’ll chalk it up to liquid courage again if you ask, but you don’t. Instead you snuggle closer, chasing his warmth. He swears he could pass out with just this, but he tortures himself more by holding you even closer and he swears, even with his thick hoodie, he could feel your smile.

Over a month since the gutter incident - as you like to call it - you, Jimin, and Jungkook have found a pattern of cohabitation, and yes, that includes Jungkook, seeing as how he’s become a staple in your household and your life.

At some point, Jimin had sulked less and would spend his time watching dance videos to remind himself of the feeling, even if it was just virtual. He’d even expanded his choice of employment by checking job openings as a fitness instructor and a ballet teacher for children.

He’d also done his regular foot exercise once the pain became bearable. Still unemployed and heartbroken though, he’s been shameless in making your place his own home, with most of his belongings now removed from their boxes, and inviting Jungkook over any time, any day. Not that you minded though, since he’s been nothing but a literal angel.

Living in a studio on his own, Jungkook usually has ramen or street food as dinner, which is why Jimin used to invite him over his shared apartment with Taehyung so that Jungkook could at least have home cooked meals every once in a while.

It’s why he’s often over your place on weeknights he doesn’t have a shift at the tattoo parlor. That and because Jimin still wants him over to play video games. Jungkook brings food over or pays for delivery though, and you welcome the initiative.

On weekends, you’re all busy doing your own thing in the living room together, which carries over to movie nights. The young ones pass up on their friends’ invites to a party while you, well, your friends would rather spend their weeknights with their partners instead. So your night of basking in your singleness now means doing so with your brat of a brother and his dependable best friend.

It’s a Saturday afternoon when you get home from doing errands and you find both men in your living room, with Jimin reading a book on some dancer’s biography and Jungkook busy on his laptop. Your brother’s face pops on the screen and you decide it’s not a personal matter so you plop next to Jungkook on the floor and softly rest your chin on his shoulder, something you’ve maybe done once or twice before.

“What you up to?” You ask, an impressed look on your face at the snippets of Jimin dancing, some of which you’ve never seen before.

“I’m working on his application video,” he says, pointing to your brother. “Since he’s not able to dance when he tries for jobs, he thinks sending them a video to show his skills will help.”

“Oh, like a visual CV of some sort?”

“Yes!” Jimin states. “Want them to know what they’re missing out on, and that’s a lot.”

You roll your eyes but mentally agree; your brother is the most talented person you know.

“Kookie’s been kind enough to work on it for me although he’s been on it for hours,” he continues, a playful smile on his face.

“Give him a break, Chim. He’s done so much for you already,” you say, getting your own laptop and setting it up on the table.

“Nah, it’s the least I can do. He’s helped me so much, ___.”

“He fought off your bullies 15 years ago…” You cock an eyebrow.

Jungkook chuckles. “Yes. And more. Helped me with school work, my confidence, my social skills…”

“Gave him tips to woo girls because he was too shy to ask them on dates,” Jimin adds.

“Hmm,” you mumble. “What you gotta be shy for? Just flash them your smile or show them your toned arms, they’ll probably jump on you right there,” you say nonchalantly, unaware of the way Jungkook’s heart stills at your comment.

“He doesn’t want them to jump on him, ___. He wants them to actually like him, or love, whatever. He’s a romantic, you know,” Jimin teases. “Would travel to the ends of the earth or fight to the death for the woman he loves, whoever she is,” he says matter-of-factly, unaware of the way Jungkook’s breath hitches because if Jimin only knew.

“Aww, Kook. That’s cute,” is all you say, smile genuine though, he wishes he could see it everyday. But cute, really? That’s it?

He chooses not to dwell on it and instead asks you what you’re up to, to which you respond that it’s a presentation you have to work on. You’re frustrated at your lack of design eye and it looks so bare; you want it to look professional but still eye-catching.

“Maybe I can help!” Jungkook states.

But of course, you think. You’ve been accommodating an actual graphic designer in your home, surely it’s fair that he help you out, right?

“Yes please, Kook. I need to blow these people away with my smarts and my non-existent creativity,” you laugh.

Jungkook sets aside his laptop, adoringly quick to prioritize helping you, and works on your presentation. He knows just the right color and font combo, even helping out on which details to include, what visuals to add, and how to make it exactly how you want.

You’re amused at how easily he works on it. He's meticulous, working on the size of the texts and the angles of the patterns. Jimin chides him for his perfectionism but unbeknownst to both of you, Jungkook’s laser focus is a means of distraction with how physically close you’ve been to him the past hour, eyes flicking from him to the screen.

He wants this to last but also can’t wait for it to be over because of how nervous he is, especially with your constant praises for something really basic, but which he finds so charming all the same.

Pretty soon he finishes and returns your laptop to you and retrieves his, quick to get back to work and focus on something else, which still proves futile once you remove your sweater to reveal a camisole underneath, and tie your hair on a high bun, thus exposing more of your shoulders and neck.

He shakes off the tingles he feels, pretends to be completely unbothered by his attraction towards you that seems to intensify day-by-day. He looks forward to seeing you, and when he doesn’t, he yearns to. He’d been used to admiring you from afar but these past weeks showed that he has all the reasons to admire you even up close.

You’re just as brilliant, feisty, and funny; sassy too like Jimin but in a captivating way, yet so kind-hearted just the same.

The three of you settle in a comfortable silence, each busy with your own task at hand. With your knees touching Jungkook’s, your questions on any additions you make on the presentation, and him asking for your approval on the video (which he seeks, oddly enough from you and not from Jimin), your eventual quick agreement on dinner and your teamwork in preparing it, it all feels so familiar, like it’s home.

The next evening, you find yourself sandwiched between Jungkook to your right and Jimin to your left, who moved from his center seat to lie down, with half of his tiny body settled comfortably on top of you and Jungkook. Your brother insisted on watching “How to Be Single” tonight, like a slap to all your faces.

It’s during one of the scenes with the protagonist’s ex when Jimin randomly asks, “___, do you regret breaking up with Namjoon?”

It may seem like a question out of left field, but with everything that’s happened, Jimin has been quite reflective lately, particularly about love. He’s had his fair share of partners but unlike you, is more a feeler than a thinker; gets out of relationships as fast as he gets into them; takes it one day at a time whereas you always have to consider the future.

You don’t need to ponder on the question; you’ve gone through this multiple times with your best friends but never really with your brother.

“Sometimes. But there was too much on the line and it was unfair to both of us if we carried on.” You sigh, recalling the moment you both decided it wouldn’t work. “It was something we had to do but doesn’t mean it hurt any less.”

Jimin hums, thinking back to the days he’d barge in your apartment and ask for leftovers when really, he just wanted to be near you so you had someone to cry to, just in case. That was over 2 years ago and it took you a year to finally say that you were over the relationship. He used to note your choice of words - “I’m over us,” never “I’m over him.”

Next to you, Jungkook is picking on his nails, unsure if he should be part of the conversation. He’d heard about the break up since you had common friends. It was quite the shock, knowing how you and Namjoon were.

You pick up this nervous habit, aware that he might not know what really happened. It wasn’t a secret but there was more to the story.

“We just wanted different things,” you say then turning to both of them, “so you two better make sure you’re on the same page with the person you date, talk about what lies ahead, what you want, what you’re willing to compromise and what you aren’t.”

“That’s good advice, yeah Kookie?” Jimin says.

“Why you focusing on me?” Jungkook asks.

“You’re the one focused on the dating, not the settling. You avoid those conversations.”

“You don’t want to settle?” You ask, now curious. You’ve seen him with girlfriends but thinking back now, his relationships never really lasted.

“It’s not that,” he glares at Jimin. “I’m more of a live-in-the-moment kind of guy. Thinking about the future is great, I mean, any mature individual does that, it’s just…”

He heaves out a sigh, hoping he’s not shooting himself in the foot with his statement. “What good is the future if you don’t take care of what you have right now? Isn’t the present more important because it’s what’s assured? The future is literally dependent on that, so the now is what I want to focus on.”

He rests his head on the couch, nervous of your reaction. He knows you’re a planner, needs to see things far ahead to know what to do.

There’s no one way to go about life, he acknowledges that. He just doesn’t want you to think he’s not a serious guy. With his developing feelings for you, not seeing him as a potential partner is literally the worst thing that could happen.

Jimin continues with the movie he paused but in your mind, all you could think about was what Jungkook said. If you and Namjoon hadn’t obsessed about the future, would things have been different? Would you still be together?

The sinking feeling comes at the realization that maybe they still wouldn’t. What if your ‘present’ with him then wasn’t good enough in the first place? That the “could be” was more exciting than the “what is”? Suddenly there’s clarity, you just don’t know if it’s the good kind.

Still, it doesn’t keep you from sinking further down the couch until you’re leaning on Jungkook’s shoulder. And like the few times that you have, there’s a comforting feeling in the act.

“You must’ve made your ex-girlfriends really happy, huh Kook?” You ask, head shuffling near his upper arm. “Focusing on the present and the moments and all that.”

You wish it was something you did, but Namjoon was just like you.

“I guess you could say that,” he answers shyly.

“But that was just it though, right Kook?” Jimin says. “Made them happy but not enough to fall in love.”

This prompts you to look at him, wide eyes full of questions. “How come?”

He turns to you and if he tried enough, Jimin right behind you would blur and there’s just you, overhead light illuminating the best parts of your face which is, well, everything. You’re absolutely breathtaking.

And at your question - how come he never fell in love - comes his own realization. For all of his talk of living in the moment, tucked in the corner of his mind is the thought of the future he’s only ever dreamed about, the one that he’s always wanted, well, with you.

“I - I actually don’t know.”

Adopting your brother, and by extension Jungkook, isn’t as bad as you expected. Sure, Jimin is still a diva and annoys you just because he wants to, but he makes you laugh more, compliments your cooking more, and encourages you to go out and have fun. Most times you do, but if you’re being honest, you’ve been enjoying time spent with him and Jungkook more.

Your movie and PS4 nights are chaotic and only egos are harmed. You and Jungkook help Jimin with job hunting, monitor his practice dancing, and watch dance videos with him. Two months since the gutter incident, you’ve gone to the park, the beach, and the river, perfected making choco-walnut cookies, and built fairy houses.

Your days are more tiring yet satisfying, as if your apartment actually feels like a sanctuary, save for Jimin’s provocation leading to your bickering, but even that has become a welcome addition in your daily life as well.

Jungkook though is altogether a different story. You two have gone grocery shopping together more than once, had spent some mornings on a run, and some weeknights he even picks you up from work then you both grab some of Jimin’s favorite food for dinner. Those are on top of the many nights you’ve spent drinking whatever in the living room, bidding him goodnight either out the door or on your couch. You’re not exactly sure what to make of the giddiness but you shut down whatever unusual feeling there is before they start to mean anything more.

It started with a missed deadline, then an oversight of a risk, then your workmate Chul getting the last laugh. Sometimes, no matter how good you think things are going, all it takes is an extremely bad week, made up of extremely bad moments, to make you doubt yourself. You think some more, then you end up doubting everything else.

Am I good enough for this job? Can I really make a career here? Is this what I really want? Is this going to make me happy? Why the fuck am I still single? It’s the sudden feeling of uncertainty that overwhelms you, makes you second-guess, and suddenly you’re not as stable and secure as you thought you were.

It’s this feeling that you carry over the day after at your friend Jin’s and his wife’s baby shower. Between their growing family, Yoongi’s hit-making record label, Hoseok’s renewed contract as a travel show host, Yuri’s PhD, and Na-eun’s engagement to her college boyfriend, you feel so… lost. Like you’re just getting by, just letting time pass until there’s something big and meaningful to look forward to again, whatever that is.

Of course your friends would never make you feel any less; that’s really on you, which is probably worse.

The party is on full swing; gifts have been given and time has come for full-on socializing where you all get to talk about how great your individual lives are. Except for you. And maybe Eun-ha on the corner who doesn’t seem to be happy being here, but that’s not your problem.

Somewhere near the bar is Jungkook, beer in hand and clearly enjoying himself. He’s a staple in events like this and he fits right in with everyone else - self-assured, content, in control, and may be on his way to a date, seeing as how that pretty girl hasn’t left his side all afternoon. Not that you were monitoring, though.

For once, you’re actually hoping Jimin was here so you can whine together, but the group he used to choreograph for invited him to their concert, so there’s that.

You’re on your third glass of champagne when you head inside Jin’s enormous house, away from the laughter and obvious put-together lives of your friends, when you see him, the man who was once your embodiment of stability, of a “good and secure life,” as your parents had said.

He sees you, flashes his dimple-bearing smile, and walks towards you, looking extremely good in a white polo and denim jacket, brown hair slicked back.

“___!” He greets, his arms immediately engulfing you in a tight hug, providing you the physical warmth that you haven’t felt in a while. You sigh into him, your head on his firm chest, his now sturdier frame but a reminder of the time that's passed.

You linger, prompting him to gently stroke your back like he used to after a long day at work.

“You needed this, huh?” He observes, voice low and comforting.

You release yourself from his hold and look up at him, his sweet smile a contrast to his commanding presence.

“Unfortunately,” you sigh.

“Boss still not giving you due credit? Colleagues still not making it any easier? Stress still at an all-time high?” He asks, and it’s either he still reads you so well or your problems - or you - haven’t changed one bit.

“You’re just not your usual energetic self,” he continues. “I mean, I haven’t seen your genuine smile since you arrived.”

He’s been watching you? Somehow that sends heat to your cheeks and quickens your heartbeat.

“Just tired, is all. Plus, Jimin’s been living at home after a little accident,” you finally respond.

His face makes this charming worried expression. “House already a makeshift wrestling ring?” He laughs.

“You’d be surprised at how little damage there is in my apartment. Safe to say we’ve grown up,” you say, wide smile finally adorning your face, which he returns. You haven’t felt this light the whole week.

“It’s nice to see you again, Joonie.”

You and Namjoon find a spot in the large living room, with the 2-seater couch being the only one available, the physical closeness making it difficult not to be mesmerized by his gorgeous face. His laugh is still the same, the feel of his hand under yours is still the same; the attention he gives, his thoughtful and wise words, and ability to make you feel cared for haven’t changed.

You’re smiling more, eyes sparkling for sure, and you can’t help the way your body reacts the way it does - knees chasing his, hand tucking your hair behind your ear, voice going a key higher.

He’s still the same confident and self-assured man that you fell in love with, that you once saw a life with. It’s almost intoxicating, the way he speaks, sees the world, sees himself. You could easily fall into this again, into the ideal, the safe and secure, the expected, the could be. You think of the reasons why it didn’t work out, of what you chose when you decided to call it quits. His phone rings. He excuses himself but you still hear him. And you’re reminded why.

“I’m sure the gown looks beautiful, love. I’ll leave the party soon and meet you and our parents at the wedding planners’ office. See you in a bit.”

Your heart should be breaking but it’s just your pride that does.

“I’m sorry, it was my uh—“ he says, unsure.

“Your fiancé,” you smile, as if reminding him.

“Yeah it’s… it’s pretty recent and we uh… we’re planning to have it in 3 months,” he explains, eyes turning sullen, lips curling into an apologetic smile.

“Congratulations, Namjoon. I’m so glad you’re happy,” you say, hoping he picks up the sincerity in your voice.

He sits across from you again, hand on top of yours, his smile hopeful, and for the first time, you see him struggle with what to say. So you don’t give him a chance to.

“What are you still doing here?” You playfully nudge him. “You have somewhere else to be.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

He lingers this time. Maybe in another life you would’ve worked out, you would’ve loved each other better, you would’ve fought for each other. But not in this.

He leans forward and places a soft kiss on your forehead and you shut your eyes, absorbing all the words he wishes he could say. I’m sorry. I will always care about you. I hope you find your happiness, too.

Your eyes follow him as he walks out the door, out to the woman who could definitely give him what you couldn’t. From across the room, a pair of eyes follows your movement too, the way it has since you entered the party four hours ago.

Whatever worry you initially had about getting drunk at your friend’s baby shower is out the window. You don’t mind anymore, not with your 5th glass of champagne and your 3 shots of vodka because of course, it’s Jin. You laugh along with your friends although you’re too dazed to process what they’re saying.

Your jaw is sore from laughing over things you don’t understand so you decide to head inside, maybe call it a night and take the drinking back to your place; at least you’d be in your pjs and not in a tight dress and heels.

You’re pulling open a door that just won’t budge and you exert what little energy you have, causing you to trip on yourself only to be held steady by strong hands on your waist.

“That’s a sliding door, ___,” the familiar voice says, tone low but still teasing.

You turn around and meet chocolate eyes looking down at you and you stare back even in your embarrassment.

“I… I think I’m drunk,” you stutter.

You’re met with laughter. “No shit, ___. Think I didn’t notice that?”

“I…” You say, looking down at the hands still holding onto you.

He quickly removes them, worry painting his face and you wave him off before he could apologize.

“Let’s go to a bar, Jungkook.”

You reasoned your decreased alcohol tolerance to your friends, which they didn’t buy but waved you off without much fanfare. They probably sensed you were out of it for a while. Or probably saw the exchange with Namjoon, who knows.

But you’re now at a bar eating chicken wings and fries like you’re about to run out of food, the guy next to you chuckling and reminding you to breathe every once in a while.

You finish your meal quickly and pout when you realize he’s barely touched his food.

“You’re not eating,” you state the obvious.

“Sorry, too entertained,” he laughs, the child-like sound now so familiar, you’d recognize it anywhere.

He’s just smiling at you and you feel so small under his gaze. He saw you talking with Namjoon, taking shots, and almost tripping earlier. He’s probably wondering who this person is; definitely not the one who’s been semi-housing him the past few months.

You bury your face in your hands. “I’m so embarrassed,” you cry out.

“Hey now,” he says, hands gently removing yours from your face. He stops the one tear before it falls off.

“God, how many times have I cried in front of you, Kook? This is humiliating.”

“No one’s counting though,” he states. “It’s your drinks I’m counting and I’m thinking maybe you’ve had enough.”

You nod and he orders a can of soda and a glass of water. With light chatter and glasses clinking in the background, you two fall in comfortable silence. He’s quietly picking on his food, eyes roaming the bar while yours flit from him to the space between you, somehow wishing it isn’t as wide as it is right now.

“I had a bad week,” you finally say. He nods.

“My friends are all accomplishing so many things, achieving their dreams and I’ve been stuck in the same company for 5 years.”

He nods again.

“I’m a 28 year-old who got drunk at a baby shower and flirted with her ex only to find out he’s engaged.”

Jungkook pretends not to be affected at the confirmation that you were indeed flirting with Namjoon but he nods just the same.

“And?” He asks.

“And? I’m in a bar with you, and I cried, and I’m acting like a baby because I had a terrible week and ended up doubting everything and now think I can’t get my life together. I mean, between my brother I can’t properly help, a job I can’t seem to stand out in no matter how hard I try…” You release a deep breath. “And a relationship I couldn’t keep because I wasn’t enough and I…”

“Hey, don’t say that,” he says angrily. “You’re none of those things.”

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have kids. And Namjoon always wanted to be a father,” you blurt, the words not stinging as they used to.

This stuns Jungkook. Jimin had always mentioned it was a mutual breakup but never said anything more. Jungkook didn’t think it was because of this.

“I thought I wanted a family, too. It was so easy to fall into the idea of that kind of life with him because he was the perfect person to have it with. But then one day I just started doubting it,” you sigh, recalling how hard you used to be on yourself for suddenly wanting something different.

“Sometimes I think, what if I gave myself more time, what if eventually I’d be sure?” You take a long breath. “But the uncertainty was too much and it wasn’t fair to him,” you huff. There was no blame game; you both knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“Quite the dealbreaker, huh?” Jungkook wonders.

“Yeah but looking back, the other issues were just bubbling under the surface. The future was so enticing and we talked about it all the time, it seemed much more important than well, us,” you explain.

“It was Jimin who made me realize that I hung onto Namjoon for the relationship, the potential, what it meant. He was the epitome of stability and I was the same for him but at some point, even that wasn’t enough.”

“So, earlier. Why did you, uhm,” he starts, hoping it doesn’t come out wrong.

“Flirt with him?”

Jungkook nods.

“Being with him used to make me feel like I had it together, you know? Like I had it figured out because he did and it was silly but I don’t know, maybe I wanted to trick myself into thinking that by being close to him in any way, I had it together.”

“You don’t need to have it together all the time. You just need to have it together enough.” His whole body turns to you.

“You had one bad week, we all do. But it’s over now, isn’t it? Your friends doing well in their careers? So are you. You know what not to compromise on, what to stand up for, which battles to fight. I’ve heard enough of your stories to know that there are people at work who respect you, look up to you. The way your friends, your brother, and I look up to you.”

Your lips are quivering, forcing yourself not to cry again tonight. He just always knows what to say. “That’s really sweet, Jungkook.”

“Thanks, but I wasn’t trying to be sweet. I was just being honest. You’re a lot of good things to people, ___. Isn’t that what matters? Being a little off at work and drinking then flirting with an ex don’t make you any less of a person. Okay? You’re allowed to slip up every once in a while.”

You let this sink in.

“Look at you, Jeon Jungkook. When did you get this wise? It’s like I just blinked then you’re all of a sudden so grown up.” You tease to keep yourself from breaking down.

“Like I told you, much of what I know, I got from Jimin. And what he knows, he got from you. Maybe try listening to yourself, yeah?” He smirks.

You nod, smile creeping on your face the same way all the heat is rushing to your cheeks. You feel comfortable like this, being vulnerable and sad and doubtful but he’s holding you close without touching you, making you feel safe with just his presence. In the now noisy bar, your bodies angling towards each other, and with his tender smile, you feel a type of intimacy you’ve never felt before. It’s reassuring yet enticing at the same time. And this scares you.

You both stay for another hour until you decide it’s time to head home. Jungkook had taken a cab, too in anticipation of drinking so you both decided to walk back to your apartment, knowing the couple of blocks would be enough to sober you up.

The streets are still alive with the nightlife just starting but the noise starts to tone down once you reach your neighborhood. The long walk is soothing, as Jungkook leaves you to your thoughts, except for the times he has to steady you because, well, your vodka shots are still in your system and a walk isn’t enough to flush them down. Still, you’re calm, a feeling of acceptance overtaking you.

“Thanks for tonight, Jungkook. I hope I didn’t ruin any potential date or anything just because I couldn’t get the door open,” you laugh.

He raises an eyebrow.

“That, uh, girl seemed really into you,” you stammer.

He chuckles, hands in his pockets and cheeks flushed at the implication of your observation.

“That wasn't much, we were just chatting.” He turns to you. “I could see your scrunched eyebrows from where I was and thought you needed help,” he shrugs.

You sigh. He was always helpful, ever since he was a kid.

“You know, you were always the good guy. Jimin’s other friends were so rowdy and immature. Yugyeom was always sprawled on the couch with his feet up like he owned the place; Sejun was always finishing our ice cream, and Sunghoon was such a flirt.”

Jungkook laughs, recalling the times you were scolding all of them for messing up the house and being so annoyingly noisy and eating your snacks.

“You were always the well-behaved and mature one. Like, you barely engaged in their pranks and stupid boy talk. You’d rather watch it all unfold until it was too much and you’d help me in the kitchen always. I remember your glazed potatoes. God, that was so hilarious.”

“That was embarrassing.”

“It was funny! And adorable. You were always so kind.”

“Thanks but uh, I wasn’t trying to be kind. Well, sort of. I wanted to impress you. And I—” He doesn’t know where this is coming from but it’s like word vomit, especially now that you’ve started to walk more slowly and are looking at him.

“It was an opportunity to be near you. Kinda wanted a lot of that back then. Even now, actually.”

You gulp, unsure of what to feel or how to react. You thought you were imagining his lingering looks, or how his eyes shone a tad brighter and his smile was a bit wider when you were around. But he’s not saying what he’s saying, right?

“I, uh. Well, maybe you look up to me like an older—“

“Don’t say sister because I never saw you as one,” he interrupts you, frustration laced in his voice as if the word is venom. “Not when I was a teenager, not in the years after, and especially not now.”

You hesitantly turn to him, his nervous face a contrast to the offended tone of his voice just seconds ago. He nibbles on his lips, a mannerism you noticed when he was a teenager who always seemed shy around you and would only relax after you talked to him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. I didn’t mean to sound angry. I just—“

“That was your angry tone?” You tease, your laugh affirming him that you’re not upset one bit, just… unsure. You’re flattered, definitely; he is a very attractive man. Still your brother’s best friend, though.

This eases him, but prompts him to test the waters.

“I’m a gentle boy, what can I say? Most times, at least,” he says, and you don’t miss the playful tone of this voice, his eyes peering down at you, making your breath hitch and your hands clammy.

You wrap yourself with your arms - really to wipe the sweat off because you’re feeling nervous - but Jungkook takes this differently, as anyone would, and immediately unzips his jacket and puts it on you.

You slow on your tracks and you feel even warmer. He follows your pace but urges you to speed up once he feels a droplet on his cheek. You’re glad you opted to wear low heels today, tiring your calves only a little but allowing you to walk fast enough until you’re on the steps of your apartment in time to miss the sudden downpour.

Well, Jungkook doesn’t because as he enters, a portion of his torso is wet, his black shirt sticking on his skin to tease you of his toned abs that you definitely will be thinking about tonight. Between that, his damp hair, and soaked veiny arm, you curse your mind for the images it’s currently making up.

All he did was indirectly tell you he has a crush on you, right? Or did he? He doesn’t seem as bothered as you expected him to be if that was the case so maybe you misinterpreted?

You can’t stand this wet version of him so you say you’ll get him a towel but are too flustered so you hit the wall as you turn towards the bathroom, eliciting a loud “ow!”

“You okay?” He asks worriedly.

“Yeah, still drunk I guess,” you lie. He smirks and probably knows you’re lying.

“I’ll take care of myself, don’t worry. Go wash up and get ready for bed.”

“Are you ordering me around?” You ask, trying your best to reestablish yourself as the one in authority because you can’t take how this man is making you feel nervous and unsettled and not in control.

“Do you want me to?” He simpers, flustering you even more. What is with him?

You roll your eyes and trudge to your bathroom. You’re technically sober but with Jungkook’s looks, the sudden flirty tone of his voice, and his innuendos, you might as well be drunk again.

You open the door and seconds later he’s by your bedroom, a glass of water in one hand and apple juice in the other. The bottle of aspirin is tucked under his arm by his rib and he asks you to get it and you think he's evil for testing you but you take it, acting unbothered. He follows you to your room and you don’t stop him.

Glasses now on your bedside, you tuck yourself in. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“For what?”

“For staying with me? Listening to me?” You test the waters, too. “For caring for me?” And his smugness disappears. Before you is a man, all strong and tough yet his smile is the tiniest, softest you’ve ever seen on him, and even from where you are, you could see the tips of his ears turn red.

“I really appreciate everything,” you conclude, and you mean it.

He gathers himself before he looks you in the eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Anything you need, just tell me.” You nod.

“Sleep well, ___.”

You don’t sleep well. In fact, even with the rain pouring outside, you feel so hot, you end up shedding your shorts.

The closeness with Jungkook has been gradual and if anything, it’s been comfortable. You convince yourself what he has is probably just a little crush; convincing your heart to still is a different story.

Jungkook, on the other hand, can’t stop smiling. He was testing the waters tonight, gauging how you would react to his flirtation and teasing. It was partly the alcohol but then you’d gone all shy and flustered; he thought it was worth a shot.

He was half expecting you to scold him like you used to do with Sunghoon, or berate him like those guys at work but you did neither. You don’t seem to hate him, even with his indirect confession to you, and that’s really better than what he’d hoped.

You wake up dissatisfied with your sleep and take your hangover necessities; dealing with Jungkook last night did add to your inebriation.

You head out to the kitchen to prepare some beef bone soup to help with the headache, hands trying to remove the sleep from your eyes. You move like you’re on autopilot like most post-night out mornings and then you hear someone gasp.

“Shit, woman. Learn your manners and put some clothes on,” Jimin shouts.

It wouldn’t have been bothersome had Jungkook not been here but of course, he is. Next to your brother, eyes wide and definitely trying not to look at your bare legs. It dawns on you that you indeed removed your shorts because of that very man and your face contorts in shock and embarrassment.

“Fuck. Jimin! Grab me my shorts on my bed, please!!!” You cry out and stand behind the counter.

He’s too scandalized to complain so he rushes to your room and you feel so hot all over. You avoid Jungkook’s face at all costs, which apparently is what he’s also doing.

Jimin throws your shorts on your face. “Get yourself together, jeez,” he scowls.

“You’re the one invading my space, okay, both of you,” you bite back.

Jimin’s making faces like he always does when you scold him and Jungkook sits next to him, chuckling.

“I shouldn’t have welcomed you, you brats. I’m used to walking around my apartment in my underwear so this is a lifestyle change.”

“Oh god, shut it. Nobody wants to imagine you without clothes on,” he cringes.

For some reason, your eyes find Jungkook, who visibly gulps. You glare at both men, and Jimin responds with an evil smile.

You return to what you were meant to do and start getting ingredients. Jungkook starts to feel bad and approaches you, mumbles to Jimin that he’ll just help.

Jungkook appears next to you. “Did you mean that?”

You sigh. “I didn’t. Of course you two are welcome here.”

“I was referring to the other one,” he says with a low voice.

Your eyes widen and you smack his arm. “What is wrong with you? Stop teasing,” you loud-whisper, but he doesn’t miss the way you try to hide your laugh.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he smirks, and you get flustered even more.

You’re a 28-year old getting scandalized over playful comments by this ridiculously good-looking man and you feel so pathetic but you can’t deny that it’s exciting you. It’s been a while since you’ve had someone flirt with you and pay attention to you like this, make you all giddy and entranced as if you’re an adolescent getting her first love letter or being told by her crush that she’s pretty.

There’s playfulness there but affection, too. You see it in the way he stops the teasing and smiles to himself, then proceeds to help you cook, looks at you with fondness while you eat, then forces Jimin to clean up with him.

This continues for the next few weeks. His lingering looks on you are more flirty now and he smirks when you look away and try to hide your flushed face. His tone of voice when Jimin is nearby is lower, as if he’s telling you a secret.

He no longer stiffens when Jimin moves to the corner of the couch and kicks you closer to Jungkook so that your brother can make space for himself. In fact, it’s the opposite now, with Jungkook finding ways to be near you - when the three of you are on a grocery run, when you’re all on the couch for movie night, and especially when Jimin opts to sit on the floor - shuffling closer, knees grazing each other’s.

You’ve kept your head to yourself, fighting the urge to rest it on his shoulder and he definitely noticed this, so he’s started to edge you, in a way. The once lingering finger touches when he hands you something are no more, so are the “accidental” elbow brushes.

He stands close to you just enough for you to feel the heat off him but not enough to feel him. His arm over your chair leaves his hand thisclose to your shoulder and you swear you can feel the sensation even then.

You’d stopped smacking him after this one time he flexed his bicep and you started to imagine how good those arms must look.

You found out shortly after when he and Jimin convinced you to join them in the gym because Jungkook had a voucher to a free yoga class since a client of his is a teacher; safe to say she wasn’t happy when he popped in the studio to say you were taking his slot. Jungkook and Jimin did a workout, your brother now in a better condition.

After the session, they made you wait as they finished and Jungkook really had to remove his red jacket to reveal his stupidly gorgeous toned and tattooed arms in a black fit sleeveless top. He caught you ogling and the devil crossed his arms to fucking flex and smirk when the conversation he was having with one of the trainers didn’t even seem that amusing.

Of course, his outfit just sent your mind into another dimension with the images of what could be underneath that black top and again, you find out one morning exactly how glorious it is.

It’s one of those post-bar night mornings - you’ve allowed Jimin to enjoy the nightlife again as long as he had chaperones, which essentially were you and Jungkook. You’d woken up and stopped by the hallway at the sound of someone gasping and you look up from the hallway, slack jawed as you watch Jungkook pull his shirt off from the back of his neck with one hand, coffee-stained clothing lying on the counter.

His black sweatpants are hanging low on his hips and does he not have any boxers on?? His tiny waist spreads out to his muscular back, and when he turns, his sculpted chest almost blinds you; pecs just the right perk and torso so taut but not intimidating at all. It’s... beautiful. It looks so smooth and captivating; your eyes can’t help but trail down south and is that black ink that’s peeking underneath the waistband? You gulp at the thought of Jungkook having a hip tattoo because what the fuck? Is he trying to kill you? And his…

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” He asks, and you jerk from where you’re standing.

Your eyes turn to the appropriate body part they should be focused on and he’s smiling like he’s an angel, as if he literally didn’t just try to murder you with his exquisite bare body.

His smile is so sweet and you know he’s playing you because he totally caught you drooling at the sight of him. Your throat is dry and suddenly you can’t speak, which really isn’t surprising by now because he’s also taken away your ability to form coherent sentences.

“I, uhm. I’ll get one of Jimin’s.”

“I don’t fit in his clothes. Don’t you have large ones?”

He knows you do, and you nod, unclench the thighs you didn’t even realize had betrayed you, and retrieve one of your oversized Disney t-shirts and approach him. You stay at a safe distance because any closer you might fall into temptation and you throw him the shirt.

He chuckles and turns to his side to slowly put it on because of course there’s a fucking dent down there that he wants to show off.

You turn and trip on your foot because god knows how dizzy you feel from the show he just put on.

“Careful,” he calls out and even with your back turned, you just know he’s smirking.

He beats you to the bathroom shortly after and he took his time.

You decide to wait with your brother who’d been so ecstatic over an audition he landed for a fairly new and small entertainment company as a choreographer for a hip-hop group.

They told him his contemporary dance background and versatility are just what they need and you soften at his joyful face; he says he feels like a new person again. You listen to him excitedly and give encouragement.

You perk at the sound of the bathroom door opening because you really need to clean the wetness down there and you trudge out of the room so you could finally shower, slightly upset at Jungkook’s clothed form.

You groan. “Ugh that was so long,” you mindlessly say.

“Oh it is.” His smirk is back and you are pissed. You bang the door and pull your hair out of frustration.

He doesn’t even need to touch you for you to be a whimpering mess. He knows it. And you’re in trouble.

Jungkook is busy for the next two weeks, having shared that he has a couple of on-site art installations outside of the city and a tattoo piece that will need more than one 5-hour shift. You tried not to seem affected when Jimin teased him since it was going to be on a woman’s breast this time.

“This the same one who had her vagina tattooed? The one who asked you out after?” Jimin asked.

Your eyes were burning your phone screen because you absolutely cannot be affected.

“Yeah,” Jungkook laughed. “That was fun.”

Jin calling you was your saving grace and you spent the next half hour in your room, talking to him over nursery room ideas because Hoseok couldn’t make up his mind over a neon green or a fuschia pink wall and Yoongi wanted dark grey because “babies can’t even identify colors,” which is true but Jin needed you as the one with a more palatable taste.

Jungkook had knocked to say goodbye, which is more than his usual yelling, and you noticed him linger before you heard the steps away from your door.

It was day 5 when you realized why you’d been so grumpy and you hated the moment you did - you miss Jungkook. You’d gotten so used to seeing him every few days - picking you up from work, playing rock-paper-scissors to determine who’ll choose dinner, laughing at his high-pitched child-like laughter, talking to him about work and other things… you even miss his flirting and teasing.

He’d been such a staple in your life the past months, and not just to referee between you and Jimin. Jungkook, with his listening ear, his heartwarming passion for his work, and ability to soothe and comfort you in the silence, just feels so stable. And not in the way you used to think. He’s so laid-back and just there, always dependable, like you’re sure whatever it is you’re feeling, he’ll know what to do and say.

Jimin used to say that Jungkook was always the person he needed for anything and now you understand why. He emits a certain calmness, joy, and consistency, like whether you’re flying or drowning, he’s the pillar grounding you or keeping you afloat.

You’re always tempted to send him a message but you two don’t text and it’d be weird to just start now, although it doesn’t help that he doesn’t text you, too. You shrug it off and convince yourself that it really might just be a silly crush, one he acts on when he’s around you but probably forgets when he isn’t. Or maybe he went out with that girl, who knows?

On the day that he arrives, he's set to drive Jimin to the audition and watch him, too, while you’re just happy to be able to do errands and clean the house on your own.

The doorbell rings and Jimin, whom you’ve reminded to shower so he won’t be late, answers the door and you try not to look intrigued when you hear him rambling about how good Jungkook apparently looks because how else can he look better?

With ash-grey hair, that’s how. You couldn’t help it. You peeked and turned your head before he could turn to look at you.

You’re currently by the kitchen counter, tiptoeing to try to get the cereal box on the top shelf to check if you need to buy another or if it would suffice. Or if it’s even still edible. You’ll be off for a quick grocery run if only you can get this stupid box out.

Then a large hand is touching your lower back and the fresh scent of detergent fills your nose. You stiffen as an arm is raised to easily grab the cereal box you’ve spent the past 5 minutes trying to get and fuck do you miss his touch, his scent that you realize is just as comforting as his soft sweatshirts, and the way you feel a jolt of electricity even at the slightest brush of his body on yours.

He places the box on the counter. “You should’ve asked,” he says, voice low.

“I can do it,” you respond, gaining the courage to look at him and your lips betray you at how they part because he looks so good with his new hair.

“I know. I just like it when you ask.” He tries to keep his eyes on you but they keep falling to your lips, the one he’d been imagining the feel and taste of. But your eyes lock on his, letting yourself be hypnotized.

You feel his touch drift away from you and you stop him, as your hand finds his and keeps it on your waist, and it signals him to grip tighter and pull you closer. And you let him. You angle yourself so you’re standing chest to chest, you could almost feel his heart beat just as fast as yours.

“What else?” You indulge yourself because you just wanna know. You've missed him and you can’t reconcile the flirting with his recent silence.

Jungkook bites his lip, knowing it’s his signal to tell you how he feels.

“I like it when you say my name, when you listen to me talk and take me seriously. When you don’t make me feel bad about the things I do, the things I choose.”

His hand that isn’t on your waist glides through your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It settles on your cheek and you hope he doesn’t notice just how hot it is.

“I like it when you pout and when you smile with your eyes,” he continues. “And I like it when you need me because then I know I’m not the only one, because fuck do I need you,” he continues, both hands pulling you closer to him until his breath grazes your mouth.

“Want you so much,” he mumbles, before he eliminates the distance and you feel his soft lips on yours, moving tenderly, carefully, as if the purpose is to seek validation that you feel the same way, to ask your acceptance of the overwhelming affection he has for you.

Your lips move gently like his, languid yet electrifying and euphoric and you hold onto him for support, just so you won’t lose yourself even more than you already are.

This now feels surreal. You’re not thinking about anything else - not the before or the after - just the feel of him at this very moment and how it’s making you feel alive, carefree, unbound. And you wonder if all your other kisses had felt this good before. Or maybe just different.

You and Jungkook keep your steady pace, focusing on the soothing feel of each other’s lips, of the sensation of something sensuous and tender.

The aggressive pull of the bathroom door jolts you awake from a dream it seems, and you’re ducking down and crouching on the floor behind the counter before your brother notices anything amiss. Jungkook’s surprised but holds his laugh at how scared you look, the first time he’d seen you be afraid of your brother.

“Kook, has my sister left for the grocery?” He calls out from his open room, probably dressing as he speaks.

Jungkook looks up to check on Jimin. “Yeah, she just left,” he answers after deciphering your hand gestures from underneath him.

“Ugh, I forgot to tell her to buy my cereal. I think the one on the top shelf isn’t edible anymore.”

Jungkook smirks, thanking the heavens that Jimin didn’t tell you, otherwise Jungkook wouldn’t have had the best kiss of his life. He felt you; you moved with him, you felt him. And he can’t be happier.

He has a chance with you. He really has a chance with you, and even at the risk of being caught, he’d do this with you over and over again.

“Let’s go,” Jimin calls out. “I’ll just text her.”

“I’m sure she knows,” Jungkook smirks then heads out, leaving you with a dazed feeling and a heart that won’t slow its beating.

Your time alone with your thoughts only served to confuse you even more. It felt nice. He felt nice. You’d never really considered Jungkook as anything more than, well, your brother’s best friend, even if he’d been the one you preferred out of all of Jimin’s friends dating back to middle school.

His well-behaved nature and boyish charms were always endearing to you and even when he grew up, his confidence and compassion just amazed you. But it was always from afar. You think it’s the same with him; his affection may just be a little infatuation borne out of his idea of you growing up. You’ve learned enough that the idea of a person, of a relationship, of a could be isn’t always enough.

Another thing you think about is that Jimin is very protective of his friendships. You know that more than anyone, when you dated Taemin in high school.

You were both seniors and had gotten close because he was Jimin’s dance captain and mentor, someone whom your brother looked up to and admired. Your relationship ended during your first year of college, with both of you saying things you eventually regretted. Safe to say it was your first heartbreak, one that resulted to Jimin’s as well, as his friendship with your ex was also affected.

You and Jimin barely talked about it, seeing his own disappointment because of the resulting strained relationship with Taemin. You thought that the elder would at least maintain a friendship, but he didn’t.

The most Jimin said about it was when he told you, eyes downcast but tone quite angry, to “keep off my friends and don’t date any of them, please.” You were home for a break and he stormed out of your room before you could apologize. You realized later on that his heartbreak was worse than yours; you told yourself you don’t want to be the cause of that pained look on his face ever again.

His friends are off-limits, he made it pretty clear. Taemin was a mentor but one Jimin eventually did without. But Jungkook is his best friend, his brother. They’ve looked out for each other for more than half of their lives; you can’t even imagine what would happen if you and Jungkook get together and then fight, or break up.

You wouldn’t want Jimin to have to give up a friendship that means more to him than anything. Or more accurately, you wouldn’t want to lose Jimin over something that might not mean as much anyway.

You stick to the latter thought, especially when both men arrive home and Jimin is beaming, his smile something you’d never admit actually makes your heart feel all sorts of fuzziness and pride. He’s so excited and you feel it, too, moreso because he informs you that he got the job.

“They really liked me! They said I can really mentor the group and their team is so creative and passionate…” Jimin goes on, narrating every single thing that happened right as he entered the studio. You’ve never seen him this elated, not even with his previous company that was at the top of their game.

“And they said I don’t have to work right away! They’ll wait for my doctor’s clearance but I can go to work to observe and get to know them more.”

Your eyes moisten because not long ago, you saw the joy in your brother wither away, his passion deteriorate, and his plans go on a standstill. But now, it’s like he didn’t go through a slump or moments of weakness, like he didn’t go through a depressive mode when he thought he’d lost everything. He’s really a fighter, and you truly look up to him.

“I wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you two,” Jimin continues, pulling both of you in a three-way hug because of course your brother wouldn’t hug just you.

This prompts Jungkook to wrap his arm around you, hand gripping your waist while yours settles for mere pats on his lower back. He tries not to dwell on this minimal contact, or on the way you purposely avoid his gaze. He tries not to think too much when you actively lean towards your brother more during your dinner out, or how you jerk away when any of Jungkook’s body parts comes in close contact with yours.

He’s thinking maybe you’re not in the mood for his playful antics or maybe, he really pushed too far with the kiss from earlier, and it sends him in an internal panic mode because just as his hope of starting something more with you was blooming, it quickly gets shot down just like that.

It’s when you pass up on games and drinks in your living room when you get back so you could just stay in your room did Jungkook think that he may really have blown his chance.

You try to be subtle in your avoidance of Jungkook but it’s harder than expected, especially since Jimin still invites him over. With the excitement of the new job now steadying, Jimin announces his checklist for getting through a crisis - healed foot, check; new job, check. That’s pretty much it, really. “But I still need you two,” he says.

Jungkook comes over and at the start, you notice how he still tries. He attempts to catch your gaze, goes near you, engages you in conversation, makes jokes, lingers before leaving… only to be met with eyes that don’t seek him, short answers, forced laughter, and cold goodbyes. And you absolutely hate it.

He’s around yet you miss him even more than when he was away, but you can’t fall into the things that made you feel something for him in the first place.

Living with Jimin made you appreciate him so much more, and you’re glad you get to be this close with him for the first time, and you don’t want to jeopardize that.

Jungkook had much to do with the newfound attachment with your brother, yet it’s exactly why you’re hesitant to give Jungkook a chance. Their relationship is sacred, similar to how yours with Jimin is. What you and Jungkook have is a by-product of those, and it’s not the priority. Somehow you think all three can’t coexist; you can’t have it all, really.

Whenever Jungkook makes an effort, Jimin’s plea to keep off his friends rings in your head. You know, too, that Jimin gave his friends an ultimatum - date my sister or keep your dicks, something like that. It was funny when you heard of it, but it’s definitely not a laughing matter now.

Those words were said years ago yet they still hang above your head. You wish Jungkook would just make it easier for you, but why is it that when he stopped trying did you feel your heart break, as if you’re losing something you never had in the first place?

It’s easy to reason you feel sick and tired; you’ve been spending later hours at work so spending more time in your room and asking the boys to make dinner instead seem reasonable. But tonight, Jimin isn’t having it.

“We’re celebrating, stay here,” he says, pulling you to the couch next to him. Jungkook is on his right, his once tendency to stiffen around you back again, and you sadden at the thought because he looks so uncomfortable.

“Celebrating what?” You ask, grabbing the beer being handed to you.

“I’ve been working for 2 weeks and I haven’t reinjured my foot,” he says, his smile blinding you.

Normally you’d roll your eyes at his shallowness but you just agree and mindlessly sip the beer, eyes veering off in the distance.

“Is it a guy?” Jimin asks out of nowhere and you try not to choke. “You only ever get this sulky when it’s about a guy. Is it someone from work?” Jimin states with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh! Is it one of the managers who’s been trying to ask you out but he’s the ex of your close friend?”

You try to remember when you told him that but it was definitely a months-ago issue.

“Or did you have an epiphany and realized you actually like Yoongi? Or Hoseok? Or maybe Jin but he’s married?”

“What the hell, Jimin!” You say, smacking his arm. Your eyes flit to Jungkook who’s focused on the TV.

“The first one,” you lie to satisfy your brother.

“It’s kind of a code, you know? He’s Yuri’s ex and she really loved him and I don’t want to ruin my friendship over something I’m not sure is worth it anyway.” And with that, you see Jungkook’s jaw clench. He knows about Yuri and the manager; they were merely a fling, so he knows you’re lying.

“How do you know it’s not worth it if you haven’t even tried?” Jimin asks, incredulous.

“I don’t know, it’s just… Yuri’s my friend and I don’t wanna mess up a friendship.”

“Seems like you don’t trust your friendship with Yuri enough, then,” Jimin states like it’s a fact. This hits your more than it should. Do you really not trust in your relationship with your own brother? Surely you have a basis to be hesitant, but if it only it were that simple.

Jimin picks up on your silence and asks again. “How are you and the guy like? Do you have moments with him?”

“Lots of them,” you say, your eyes finding Jungkook just on the other side of the couch and he’s never felt farther away.

“And for the first time it’s like I get to savor them. Whether it’s something sweet that he does, or if we’re just together in silence, or when he’s being flirty,” and you don’t see it but Jungkook catches you smiling at the thought and god does he wish you’re lying about this one unless it’s about him. He wishes it is.

“Sounds like a keeper if he gets you to enjoy moments, don’t you think? For someone like you?” Jimin says, cocking an eyebrow.

“Like me?”

“You think too much, you know? You plan, you analyze, you manage risks… I mean, yeah sure they help I guess but this isn’t a job, ___. There’s no profit to be earned here, no losses,” he points out.

“The only loss is you missing out on something good because you’re too focused on what could happen, and not what’s actually happening, right now.” He's told you a variation of this before, but somehow this hits differently, and more than it should.

“Did you teach that to Jungkook, too?” You ask, a smile creeping up and you digress because you need anything to stop you from walking to Jungkook and holding him close to you.

“No, he taught me that,” Jimin states. “I know it seems like I teach him a lot - well, all I really told him was to never let anybody dictate what he wants and deserves in life, and I stand by that, but to be clear,” Jimin turns to you, “I learn just as much from him. He’s his own self; nobody tells him what to do.”

It’s all meant to be assuring, comforting even, if only Jimin knew. And if only it were that simple. The tension is suffocating but your brother breathes easy. You love him more than you can ever say and his happiness has meant more to you than you ever imagined. You just wish your own didn’t come at a cost.

A few days later, Jungkook is back at your place and you had quite the reflective week and opted to stay in your room.

Some days you just want to bask in your own thoughts; absorbing yourself in your own emotions helps in figuring out what to do, you’ve realized. You’re still a thinker and a planner - that’s probably never gonna change - but you’re starting to at least let yourself feel and enjoy the now, or something like it. You just wish the person you want to spend your now with hasn’t changed his mind.

It’s almost midnight when you decide to head out, your early dinner long digested and you feel hunger creeping in.

You exit your room and stop in your tracks at the sight of Jungkook in your kitchen, all alone. You definitely weren’t ready for this.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were still here,” and you regret it immediately, not wanting to sound disappointed.

He looks up, alarmed at your presence because he wasn’t expecting this, too.

“Jimin fell asleep on me but don’t worry, I was just about to leave,” he responds, eyes not meeting yours.

“He’s also gonna be coming over my place now since he’s able. Don’t want you to feel like a prisoner in your own home,” he says, motioning to your room where you’ve been hiding recently.

“Since you’re avoiding me and all,” he continues, and you don’t miss the hurt look on his face.

You mentally give yourself a pep talk because you definitely want him to still come around and you’re definitely being stupid.

“I… I wasn’t avoiding you,” you say, blocking his way by the couch as he’s about to reach for his jacket.

He stops in front of you, ensuring some distance. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, you were just not minding me and making sure you stayed as far away from me as possible.” He’s trying to sound bitter but you’re his weakness and he will always go soft on you because his tender eyes are definitely not a match to his bitter words.

“I just didn’t know what to do. You didn’t exactly say what you felt and—“

“I kissed you, ___,” he says, tone suppressing frustration.

“I told you I needed you, wanted you. And you kissed me back. The way you looked at me that day, the way you held me… it meant more, I could feel it. So I don’t know how you could just act like none of that happened, like it didn’t matter,” he continues.

“Jungkook… you’re my brother’s bestest friend. And he’s very protective of his friends, of you.”

And it’s ironic, Jungkook thinks, how Jimin is the reason why you two had met, got close; how Jimin’s what got you together but is also who’s keeping you apart.

“He’s also the one who constantly reminds me to go for what I want, to never let anybody tell me what to do,” Jungkook says.

“Yeah but this is different. I don’t want anything to come in between you two, the same way I don’t want anything to come in between him and me.”

“So it’s okay for him to come in between us? You really think he’d be okay with that? That he’d keep the two people he loves the most from being together? From being happy?”

And you hate that he’s right.

“What Jimin is to us is out of our control,” he states. “But that shouldn’t be why we can’t try, right? Because god I’ve wanted you since I was 15 and and I’ve waited too long for this and I’d either fight for us or keep us a secret, I don’t care. Just don’t lie to me, please.”

By now he’s standing in front of you and he could pin you against the armrest if he wanted to but he’s keeping his hands to himself, fists clenched at the control he’s trying to maintain because of his intense feelings for you. He’d make you feel it all too, if you just let him.

You can move away if you wanted; there’s space for it. But you don’t. Jungkook bared everything to you, braving through just to be with you; the least you could do is be honest. So with your own strength, you look up at him.

“You made me fall for the moments, Jungkook. You made me fall for you, and there were so many things to consider and I—“

Your rear hits the armrest, as you’d reflexively walked back as he started to move towards you, slowly eliminating the distance. His arms, sandwiching you, are propped on the couch to support his spread out frame, his face now level with yours. You’re burning with how he’s looking at you with so much hope and yearning.

“Go on,” he says, voice low, his eyes wandering all over your face and you feel your heat dampen with just his gaze.

“I didn’t know what to do with what I’d started to feel for you because you were off-limits but that didn’t keep me from wanting you and—“

His lips graze the side of your neck and with your breath hitching, he proceeds. Open-mouth kisses trail your neck, with just enough wetness and just enough heat to leave you wanting more. You angle your neck for more access and he smirks at this.

“And what?” He urges you, mouth focusing on the other side of your neck now, head nudging yours to adjust.

“And I avoided you because—“

You grip the couch for support, as you unravel with his hot breath on your skin.

“That seemed easier than to keep at what we were doing knowing that—“

He licks a sensitive part by your ear and your strangled moan spurs him on.

“I couldn’t have you the way I wanted to.”

At this, he stops.

He focuses his gaze on you again. Jungkook holds onto the tiniest shred of self-control he has left just so he can savor you like this, emotions unraveling and your body falling apart before him.

“How exactly do you want me?”

You steady your breath and as much as you want to give in to your carnal desire and attack his lips, you want him to know how much this means to you. You’re still scared but being with Jungkook steadies you, makes it all feel worth it.

You’re crossing this line now, and you’ll stick with him whether you’ll both come clean or keep it a secret. He wants you enough right now; you’ll figure out what to do eventually.

Your hand finds his face and fingers trace the scar on his cheek. You let yourself drown in his beautiful eyes, knowing on clear nights you could see galaxies like this.

“I want you close, Jungkook. I want you to hold me, when I’m sad, happy, confused. I want to hold you that way, too. I want to savor every moment, let you know everyday what you mean to me.”

Your featherlight touches on his jaw send shivers all over his body and he hums at the sensation. You caress his lips before he could bite them again, palming him with your thumb and feeling its softness.

“I want you to fall apart under my touch, want to make you feel good, kiss you like it’s always the last time.”

Jungkook thinks he deserves a prize for how well he’s keeping himself together and not yet taking you on this couch like his dick is telling him to. But he needed to hear all that, needed to look in your eyes while you said them.

Then you smile at him, eyes filled with desire, and that’s all it takes for him to lose his resolve and plunge into you, your plush lips against his soft ones, melding together again like a literal dream. He straightens his stance so his hands can cup your face and he feels you smile in the kiss, relishing in the care and attention he’s giving.

It starts tenderly then quickly turns heated, his eager hands trailing down your arms and waist, and your own entangling his hair, pulling the strands as he nips your lips, prompting them to open.

Your tongues explore each other’s mouths, his lingering taste of rootbeer somehow making him more addictive. You swallow each other’s sounds, both of you still having half a mind to tone down, knowing that only a wall separates your wanton moans and your sleeping brother.

His grip around you tightens and you pull him closer, your hands now around his neck, fingers thumbing his cheeks and you’re losing yourself to him, as the past few months of undeniable attraction and sexual tension climaxing at this moment where you finally give in to what you’ve been trying to suppress.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels a sense of calm even with his hard dick and his thumping heart because he’s dreamed of this, dreamed of you, and you’re here wanting him, too. All the memories of watching you from afar, blushing at how beautiful you are, missing you when you were away, heart breaking at how happy you were with someone else, fly by him like a movie because he’s got his ending - you.

He’s lived for moments most of his life and always knew to savor them, to bask in them because he doesn’t know when he’ll get to have those again. But nothing comes close to right now with you and he decides to make sure he’ll have you like this everyday.

Both your actions continue, hands stationary but mouths eagerly moving against each other, stopping momentarily for air but smiling, laughing in the kiss.

You give in first, fingers slowly trailing down to graze at his chest and he shivers, curses mid-kiss and you giggle, and he’s on cloud 9 again, realizing he can hear the beautiful sound that is your laughter everyday.

Suddenly it’s all thoughts of what’s ahead for both of you, imagining what that would be like - feeling, holding, touching each other. You’re both so lost in your little world, minds traveling from now to tomorrow and it’s exciting, so incredibly alluring to be savoring this moment but also thinking about the next.

You’re light-headed now because kissing him is like a drug, soothing yet exhilarating at the same time and you’re aching to feel him. “Jungkook…” You whine.

And then.

“HOLY SHIT,” you hear a gasp.

Your eyes burst open and you feel Jungkook stiffen before you try to push him away. You both stull, looking at each other, some distance now between you, and you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it is, the tension so thick that you’re afraid to move.

You knew at one point you’re gonna have to tell Jimin but not now and definitely not in the middle of a fucking make-out session.

“Is this a hookup or are you both finally out of your asses and would actually like to properly date because god knows it’s about time?”

You and Jungkook slowly turn to the side, eyes wide at your brother who’s leaning by the wall, checking his nails as if he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

“WHAT?” You ask.

“Jungkook’s been into you since forever but never had the fucking guts to do anything.” Jimin sighs and rolls his eyes at the man. “You’re not exactly subtle with your staring.”

Jungkook can’t seem to wrap his head around what's happening because his mouth keeps moving but no sound comes out.

“Neither are you,” Jimin eyes you this time. “You forget I’m good with reading people. And also, I’m friends with Yuri. She doesn’t even remember that guy,” he laughs because of course they’re friends. You feel so stupid; you should’ve known he was trying to catch you in a lie when he asked if your sulking was because of a “guy.”

“So you’ve always known?” Jungkook finally finds his voice.

“About you, duh. She’s recent,” Jimin points to you. “It’s like, one moment you’re friendly then you’re flirty then it’s like you can’t stand each other. Get your shit together, people. I’m literally right here.”

God, you and Jungkook were definitely not subtle. And underestimated your brother, too.

“So you’re not mad?” You confirm.

“No.”

“But… you said you were gonna cut my dick off,” Jungkook stammers.

“And you told me to keep off your friends because of Taemin,” you add. “You stopped being friends because of me,” you remind him, voice almost a whisper.

Jimin takes a deep breath because now he has to come clean.

“We stopped being friends because of him. He hurt you, ___, and you didn’t deserve that,” he admits, avoiding your questioning gaze. “I heard you crying to Jin about what happened and I got angry and wanted you to stay away from my friends because they were all assholes.” He continues, jaw clenched at the memory. “Well, except for him,” he cocks his head towards Jungkook.

“He was the only good guy. I never really minded if he went for you because... iknowhe’lltreatyouwellandyoudeservethat,” Jimin says.

And you’re not gonna lie, you feel like crying. Jimin’s been trying to protect you all this time.

Jungkook, on the other hand, isn’t taking this all too well.

“You said you were gonna cut my dick off…” He says again, tone low and unbelieving.

“That didn’t stop you, did it?” Jimin counters, earning him a sigh of defeat because he has a point.

“I just wanted it to happen naturally,” he explains. “I mean, I didn’t plan on getting heartbroken, injured, unemployed, then homeless all at once but it happened and you both helped me and that unintentionally brought you together and I…”

He turns to you both. “I realized how good you are together. Not just in taking care of me but in taking care of each other, too.”

By this time, Jungkook has found his feet and is back to standing in front of you, his hand intertwining with yours. You let out a laugh because this whole time, Jimin wasn’t in the dark. But then again, he’s a smart ass too and would’ve figured it out.

And would also push it. “I actually got over Taehyung months ago so like, I’ve been okay for a while,” he shrugs.

And just like that, he gets on your nerves again because that’s how he’s been getting his way, by reminding you of his “broken heart that’s still hurting.”

“You little bitch! Do you also have a new apartment now and you’re not telling me?!” You shriek, and Jungkook next to you is finally laughing.

“Oh no,” Jimin responds. “I’m really still homeless.”

And he smiles his sickly sweet smile and you can’t help but mirror it. Your brother is really something, and you don’t know what you’d do without him.

Some seconds pass and you’re just all basking in this moment because for the first time in months, it really feels like things are looking out for all of you.

“So in that case,” Jungkook turns to you. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Hopeful eyes staring at you, a weight off his shoulder now that he doesn’t need to hide anything from his best friend. He can just focus on falling in love with you and making you do the same.

“Yes,” you excitedly reply, hand trailing down his chest again. “And in that case, would you like to continue this in my bedroom?”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch. “Fuck, yes.”

“Guess I’m gonna have to sleep on the couch now,” Jimin groans, but you don’t miss his playful tone. “You’re both welcome, idiots.”

You’re pushed to the wall right as the door closes and Jungkook’s lips meet yours immediately. It tastes much sweeter knowing there’s no need to hide, to be careful. It’s liberating and it’s making you feel more.

He kisses you harshly as his hands make quick work of your shirt, pulling them off then slowly kneeling down in tandem with his mouth sucking, licking, and kissing down to your breasts, then your torso, causing your chest to heave at the pleasure from just his mouth.

His hands aggressively pull down your bottoms and his tongue finds your clit before you can even process his action. He’s nibbling your bud and laving at your lips and pumping his fingers in you all at once, you don’t know where to focus.

You feel the desperation and intensity with every move, the sensation overwhelming and eliciting lewd sounds from you. He alternates between moaning and cursing on your cunt and that just adds to the pleasure.

“Eager, aren’t we?” You ask with a smirk.

“You have no idea,” he responds, head buried between your thighs, one of which is currently resting on his shoulder. “Some of my wet dreams may have been because of you.”

“What the fuck Jungkook!”

“I was a growing boy with raging teen hormones!” He says in between breaths. But he doesn’t relent. Fingers curling in your hole, tongue swirling on your clit, and hand squeezing your ass, he’s determined to make you cum now, and with a hard suck, you do.

You jerk away at the oversensitivity with his mouth still on you and you pull him up to give him a kiss, tasting yourself on him.

At the sight of you bare, eyes half-lidded and steadying breath, he stills.

“Is everything okay?” You ask.

“Yeah I just…” He starts, stepping back a bit, and his eyes roam your body, smile creeping up his face. “I never thought I’d get to have you like this. I always admired you from afar and you always felt so out of reach and I…”

“Jungkook,” you stop him.

“I’m here with you right now, barely any distance. I’m not your best friend’s sister, okay?” Your hand reaches out to him and he takes it, let’s you pull him closer. “I’m the girl you like whom you’ll take out on a date after you fuck her senseless. Got it?”

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, a shy laugh escaping him.

You kiss him softly. “No need to admire me from a distance anymore. You have me, right here.”

“Okay.”

And before he can attack you again, you lead him towards your bed. Your fingers pull the waistband of his sweats as you sit on the edge and look up at him, wide eyes eager for something.

“Shirt off,” you say, and he follows.

Your eyes meet your hands that are slowly ridding him of his remaining clothing and you swear you could come again at the sight of the tiger lily tattoo resting on his hip. It curves with his semi-defined v-line, the stem trailing downward, like some pathway to his throbbing dick that’s leaking with some pre-cum.

You take him in your hands and he bucks at the feel of your soft skin around his length that’s aching to be inside you. Your eyes stay on the tattoo; something about it is so hot and you kiss it, lips then exploring the expanse of his hip and up to the part of his torso that you can reach, feeling the ridges of his definitely smooth abs, now tensing at the sensation.

All the while, your hand is stroking his member, up and down as you continue kissing and licking his pelvis and just like this, he already tastes so good. He grunts with your ministrations, head falling back at the intense pleasure. His hands fall to your hair as you take him in, tongue traversing his dick and your heat clenches at the salty taste of cum and the feel of his veins as his shaft twitches in your mouth.

At the vibration caused by your moan, he stops you, removes himself from you and then lays half your body down on the edge of the bed.

“My turn,” he says smugly.

You’re about to protest but he swirls his tongue all over your cunt again, the pad of his thumb flicking your nub and you moan his name instead. You haven’t fully recovered from your first orgasm yet but he seems determined to give you another one. He’s eating you like a man starved, as if he plans to slurp you dry.

“More, Jungkook,” you breathe out, then he’s pumping his dick and thrusting into you, the stretch just a tad bit painful but so, so good.

He quickly adjusts, spreads your legs open for his easy access and the view, and he growls at the supple flesh that's taking him so well. It’s so erotic, watching himself go in and out of you like this, then hearing your deliciously hypnotic moans louden as his hands start kneading your breasts like it’s some dough he’s molding to his liking, his fingers flicking the hardened nipples.

“You feel so fucking heavenly, ___,” he pants. “Fuck, fuck. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“All yours, Kook,” you respond, delirious now because his movements are really sending you to another dimension. “Fuck me harder,” you beg, and he follows.

He adjusts again, flushing your legs against you and the angle in which his dick hits your sweet spot causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

You’re screaming expletives and it’s just urging him to go harder, deeper, faster, his sweat trickling down his temples and forming on his chest.

“Cum for me, baby. I need to feel you,” he huffs.

He’s in a frenzied state and he’s losing himself in you, his mouth now parted and he joins your filthy wails, which are in tune with the sound of skin slapping on skin.

You feel your body spasm and you call out his name before you give in, heart stopping for a moment and he feels the stream of your cum coat his dick that’s just savoring this a bit more.

But you clench and it’s all it takes, his own seed spurting in you and your back arches as he comes down from his high by languidly kissing your breasts, one hand around your lifted waist and the other, intertwining your hand.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So much better than I imagined,” he utters, sounding so winded at the intensity of his orgasm.

He’s too tired to even move, body now resting on top of you, chest heaving and bated breaths escaping him. You massage his head and he moans even at that and you laugh but soften at the intimacy of it all.

He finally gets himself off you and you chuckle as he sneakily opens the door and tiptoes to the bathroom, careful not to be caught naked by your brother. He returns with a wet towel, wipes you, then lays next to you, his arm secured around your waist.

He’s smiling so fondly, lips now peppering kisses all over your face. “You’re stuck with me,” he states.

“Nowhere I'd rather be,” you reply, your own soft kiss now turning greedy again, and you think it’s gonna be a long night.

You wake up tired but you’re not complaining. It was quite the evening, after all, and you’re reminded by the fluff of grey hair adorning your chest. Jungkook likes to cuddle, you’ve learned, and he couldn’t sleep without a part of his body touching you.

You release from his hold and head to the kitchen after washing up, not expecting your brother to already be eating his cereal.

“Oh my god, can you wear shorts?” He huffs.

“Bitch, you’re in my apartment,” you bite back, laughing at the face he makes.

Your front is to the counter when Jungkook approaches and unlike before, heads to you, arms wrapped around your waist from behind and places a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning.”

His voice is hoarse and you hold back a moan because it just brings you back to last night when after you came the second time, he fucked you softly for your third, then fucked you hard for your fourth, then softly again this morning for your (extended) fifth. God, this man will be the death of you.

He nuzzles your neck and you giggle.

“Manners, you two. You’re like teenagers,” Jimin scowls.

“Well, I am living my teenage dream,” Jungkook announces.

Jimin grimaces but softens at the look of his two favorite people looking so happy. “Okay, this is gonna take some getting used to.”

You and Jungkook playfully nod in agreement.

“Also,” he turns to Jungkook who’s now managed to tear away from you. “Are you gonna be here again tonight because you know, I kinda wanna sleep on a bed and all. Couch is great but like, no.”

“You better find your own place soon if you don’t want to keep sleeping there every night,” you reply smugly.

“Okay, now gross!” Jimin, dramatic as always, pretend-gags at the implication. “I’m gonna look for places. Jungkook, you’re still my best friend. We’re going apartment hunting tomorrow.”

“But…” You start.

“No. Nuh-uh. You had him last night and you’re going out on a date today. You need to share my best friend.”

And you all laugh at him throwing a tantrum. He and Jungkook start to bicker and you walk towards your room to grab shorts because it really is awkward when your brother is there.

The doorbell rings as you’re about to walk back and you open the door, a surprised look on your face.

“Hi, is Jimin there?” The person asks.

You head back to the kitchen, your guest in tow and you call out to your brother.

“Chim, someone’s looking for you.”

Jimin looks up and almost falls off the chair.

“Taehyung?” He says, trying to mask the nervous tone of his voice. “I…”

“I have something to confess,” Taehyung cuts him off, eyes nervous but hopeful. “Can we, uhm, maybe talk somewhere else?”

Jimin nods and quickly follows him out.

You walk back to Jungkook and he tugs you close, hands back to your waist. “What’s that about?”

You bite back an excited squeal as you think back to what Taehyung told you at the door.

“Let’s just say, you might not need to help Jimin look for an apartment anymore,” you respond.

Jungkook smiles and pulls you in for a hug, reveling in this absolutely perfect moment.

“You Park siblings drive me crazy, you know that? And you two make me so damn happy.”

masterlist

#jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #brother's best friend #hold me close #oneshot #mine

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luxwritesfanfic · 3 years

Text

400 LUX

Sherlock wants to cut things off but the reader thinks he should really think it over. Or, the one where Sherlock isn’t one for saying “I love you”, but he has always offered you a sword. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You could hear the water running in the bathroom as you slipped down the hall to make coffee, your phone in one hand pressed against your ear as Mary went on and on about all the things that you two needed to do today and the other hand held your shear kit that you barely used. It was a few days before the wedding and things were in full swing for you as Mary’s bridesmaid and Sherlock as the best man. Mary, God bless her, was having a breakdown every other day and it was all you could do to not to set her off by picking the red velvet with buttercream over the vanilla cupcakes.

“— and we need to go by the florist today, too, and I probably should stop by and speak to the DJ... and John, he’s not worried about any of it! He’s asking for tea and biscuits as if I’m not already balancing the most important day of our lives!” Mary was talking at a mile a minute and as she continued the never ending list of tasks she had set for the two of you, you began situating all of your supplies to cut Sherlock’s hair. He had insisted you do it before the wedding, and not even your lack of experience was enough to convince him to just go to the shop with John. Sherlock’s hair was something he took very seriously so you were unsure as to why he’d even ask you to do this.

Speaking of the devil, you rounded the hallway and started for the bathroom.

“One second Mare.” She didn’t miss a beat and continued right on talking once you muted her, and you wondered if this is how John felt talking to Sherlock. Knocking on the door before walking in, you fought through the steam to find a comb on the counter.

“If we’re going to be in here at the same time, you might as well join me.” Sherlock’s head popped out from behind the shower curtain, his hair and face sudsed up and glistening from the water. The longer you realized you had actually been thinking about taking him up on his offer, the quicker you knew that you had to get back to your task at hand and get out of the line of fire. You pulled open some of the drawers and rummaged through them.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d love that.” Hoping that the steam was thick enough to hide your growing blush, you turned back to the vanity and opened the mirror cabinet. “I need you to hurry up. Mary’s having a-“

“You would, too.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and that was enough to make you roll your eyes. Luckily for you, the mirror door was hiding your face from his prying eyes. Smug and darling as always, your man was. You snuck a peek at him and realized he’d moved back from the curtain and resumed washing his hair.

“Seriously, Mary will probably have a heart attack if I don’t leave within the hour. If you love me, five minutes.” You shut the cabinet and slipped out of the room to finally return to your phone call.

“Sorry M, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sherlock is being Sherlock.”

“Now you’re really starting to sound like John. How’s his suit fit? Does he need any adjustments? That reminds me, I should call the tailor! Be a doll and bring something to eat on the way? Love you!” With that she hung up, leaving you in the dust trying to comprehend if she actually was speaking words or Simlish.

—

“Four minutes, fourteen seconds.”

You turned back to him while you gestured for him to sit down so you could wrap the towel around his shoulders. His hair was still pretty wet so you wouldn’t have to spray it much.

“What are you talking about?”

Sherlock only smiled to himself in response, and you figured he’d just moved on from that conversation already. Combing out small sections of his hair and clipping the rest up, you asked again.

“Are you sure you want me to do this? I really don’t mind going to your usual stylist with you. I don’t want to mess you up for the wedding.”

“Y/N, I told you already, if I’ve asked you to do it it’s because I want for you to do it. It’s only just a trim. Come on with it.

So you began at that, snipping away little by little. You had cut John’s hair for him a few times right before a date but his was much easier than Sherlock’s and it grew like a weed so even if you did mess up, his date could hardly tell. You told Sherlock all about your plans with Mary for the day and he seemed to be listening intently but you could tell his mind was wandering. You knew him better than you knew yourself.

Moving to stand in between his legs to trim his face framing pieces, you asked him about his plans for the day.

“Hm,” he started, resting his fingers tips lightly on your hips in front of him, tapping away as he thought out his answer. “Mycroft insists he has words for me, despite my telling him to keep them to himself, so I suppose I’ll be seeing him at some point. John is coming here to talk wedding...” which you were almost certain really meant a case, “and I want to tell Mrs. Hudson you’ve decided to give up your flat entirely to live here.”

You had just finished trimming his hair when he had said that and luckily so because you were sure you would have chopped off a lot more than needed being caught by surprise like that. Running your fingers through his hair to be sure you didn’t miss any sections, you contemplated what exactly was happening between you. You had never really brought up completely moving in even though it was true that you practically already did. You hadn’t slept in your own bed in months because you always chose the opportunity to sleep with Sherlock. Moving in seemed like a dream but you always had it in the back of your mind that one day Sherlock would have a change of heart and change his mind on whatever the two of you were, and you didn’t want to be without if that happened.

When he realized you still hadn’t replied to his request, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at you. “Is there really that much to think about? John said you’d say yes if I made it clear I was the one asking you to. Had I not done that?”

You couldn’t help but smile, because seriously, what could you have possibly done to deserve the opportunity to love someone as... well, Sherlock, as Sherlock. He was everything everyone said he was, but he had shown you willingly that he was also so much more. You’d choose the life with him, whether it was one of a house and kids and a white picket fence or if it was one that consisted of running around London in the rain because Sherlock swore he saw something suspicious and the only viable option was to run after it. You would choose him. Every single time.

Even with all of your declarations of love, you two had never said talked about the fact that you were definitely exclusively dating which often hindered a conversation of the future. You had told him you loved him more times than you could count but he had never said it back and you were okay with that. He didn’t have to reciprocate it for it to be true. But, it did leave room for doubt that this might not always be what Sherlock chooses.

You thought of all the ways you could bring it it up and realized that straightforwardly was the only way to go. You brought your hands from his hair to hold his face and rubbed your thumbs in slow circles and he relaxed on the spot. He was putty in your hands, as much as he hated to admit it.

“I just don’t want you to feel stuck with me. It’s a big step. And if it ends up making you miserable, I just- I don’t know. I don’t want to be the one to make you miserable.” Your voice was soft as you spoke and you realized that with Sherlock’s bangs being much shorter now, you got to see more of his pretty face. Although, currently, it was contorted as he worked through trying to comprehend what you were saying to him. Blinking away at you for what seemed like forever, Sherlock cleared his throat and took your hands from his face and into his own instead.

“I’m... not sure I understand. I don’t mean to be rude at your expense but if I wanted to leave you, I would. I could rather easily. Just as easily as you could leave me. But you won’t. And I won’t... I’ve tried to show you in all the ways I know how. So would it not make sense for us to live together?”

It slowly started making sense for you and you could slap yourself for being so blind. Sherlock had let you take the lead in a lot of aspects in his life recently that you couldn’t explain what for. He urged you to pick out the next case he would work, allowed you to pick out his new microscope (Y/N, they’re the same color. Pick one. I don’t know Sherlock! I feel like this one is cool grey and this one is light grey, it makes a difference!), and now you were cutting his hair, the most important part of his appearance from his point of view. He trusted you to make the right choice every time and there really was no right choice, your choice was the right choice.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you phone began to ring with Mary’s picture posted on the screen.

“Shit, I’m so late! She’s seriously going to kill me.” Your gaze drifted from your phone to Sherlock who surprisingly patiently awaiting your answer. “Tell Mrs. Hudson as soon as John gets back from holiday that you two will start moving my stuff over. And make a little space for me in your closet, okay? I need more than just a few drawers.”

Sherlock smiled at you like you like he did when you called him brilliant and that was your highest honor to date.

You expected the usual slick remark but he simply said, “You’ll have what you want. Mary will be calling again in about 30 seconds. You should really be hailing a taxi right about now.”

And there he was, the Sherlock you wouldn’t change for the world. You wished you had time to tell him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine but alas, duty calls. You kiss him like you mean it- because you do, and rush off to your friend’s rescue but not without stopping in the doorway.

“I love you, Sherlock Holmes. But even more importantly than that, I trust you. I’ve had the time of my life fighting dragons with you and I’d happily spend the rest of my life doing it if you’d let me. It’s nice to know that you will. I just thought you’d like to know.”

Just like that, you turn his world upside down as you rush down the stairs, leaving him speechless. He thought his story was one that would be written about him and him alone and as sure as he used to be in that, he’d come to the realization that he was just as sure that two was better than one.

“And I, you.”

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock imagine #sherlock has feelings #sherlock headcanon #mary watson #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #luxwrites

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swbumblebee · 3 years

Text

“Stop it.”

Mace Windu was a Jedi Master, and as such had years of training resulting in near limitless patience.

A limit, however, that his closest companion and partner in time-travel was testing with his constant pacing. And huffing.

Plo Koon ignored his request. Mace sighed.

“Would you just sit down? You’re not going to bring them home any quicker and you’re wearing down my rug” he warned.

Plo looked at him, looked down at the rug, and continued pacing.

“I don’t know what you’re worried about” Mace continued, happily ignoring the sulky silence. “We know their mission goes well, we’ve done this before!” he exclaimed. “It’s a resounding success and half a planet ends up with a crush on Obi-Wan.” He said matter-of-fact.

He felt a reluctant pulse of amusement from Plo in the Force, as much as the man tried to keep it off his face. Mace could always tell.

He stood up, joining him in front of the sofa.

“Nobody gets blown up, nobody gets injured.” He reminded gently. “The Tume agreement is signed, as it is every year, and they both live to worry us another day” he said kindly.

Plo shook his head.

“I know how it went last time. I remember the debate” he corrected. “But things could be different my friend, we have changed the timeline. The smallest difference could be vital, and we have made a very large difference.” Plo explained, in his usual measured voice. “We have altered young Anakin’s temperament; Force only knows that he’ll do. And Obi-Wan has much less to prove.”

Mace frowned. His friend was making some irritatingly good points, but he remembered the two boys standing in the council room not one week ago; a familiar determined glint in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s eye that, in the coming years, would move planets, and Skywalker looking up at all the Masters as if they hung the stars.

“They will not disappoint us” Mace said surely.

Plo stopped.

“I know” he sighed. “I just…worry. It is most unbecoming of a Jedi” the Kel Door admitted.

Mace smiled.

“We are no longer typical Jedi my friend, and you are not the only one.”

It was true. Despite his words of reassurance, waving the two off in the hanger had brought a distinct clench in his stomach, and the training droids in the dojo had had a very long week.

Both froze, two very familiar force presences making themselves known, and not a moment later Mace’s commlink chirped shrilly.

They grinned at each other.

“Windu”

“Master, Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker have just requested permission to land” the unidentified voice on the other end of the call informed them professionally.

“Thank you, Windu out.” He closed the link without a second thought, already grabbing his cloak and joining Plo, standing impatiently, by the door.

“Wait – we can’t both go!” Mace exclaimed, the thought suddenly occurring to him as Plo reached for the door control.

The other Jedi looked at him, clearly irritated.

“Why not?”

Mace rolled his eyes. One of them had to be sensible.

“Plo, how’s that going to look? Two senior council members waiting for a new Knight and a Junior Padawan? People already think we’re too close” he exclaimed, frustrated with his friend.

Whilst they both had a wildly different attitude towards the A Word (developed over the course of the war and in their new situation) appearances were something they had to be mindful of.

Whilst his expression did not change, the Force around Plo expressed just how much of a toss he gave about appearances.

His friend folded his arms.

“Alright, we can re-convene at the flat later. I will meet them in the hanger.” He said calmly, as if it was some kind of compromise.

Mace raised one eyebrow.

“Any why do you get to welcome them home?” he asked archly.

“You waved them off” Plo said simply. “It is my turn.”

“Ah that’s not how-Plo!” he cried out, outraged as Plo quickly opened the door and strode out into the corridor, pushing Mace gently back with the Force whilst he made his escape.

Leaving the Master of the Order spluttering at the injustice of it all, in his wake.

---

Plo was working hard to keep his happiness behind his shields as he strode into the hanger just in time to see the temple shuttle land. He ran a critical eye over it, having a sudden vision of Skywalker’s battered old ship in that first timeline. As liable to explode as it was to put the wipers on.

Thank goodness that was a bridge to be crossed in the future. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for Anakin adopting ships.

Obi-Wan ruffled young Anakin’s hair, laughing as the boy tried to squirm away, as they descended the ramp. The playful scowl on Anakin’s face transformed into excitement as he sensed Plo and turned to him, held back from running over for his usual hug by his Master’s lightning quick reflexes, grabbing a wrist and holding him back.

Plo sent a wave of welcome over to them both in the Force as they came closer, a genuine smile on Obi-Wan’s face and Anakin practically buzzing with excitement.

Obi-Wan bowed deeply in respect, clearly nudging Anakin through their training bond to do the same, and the boy hastily followed suit.

Plo held a hand up and nodded at them both as they rose smiling. Both looked absolutely fine, perhaps Obi-Wan a little tired, but Plo had a feeling that was more to do with the energetic ten-year -old he’d just spent a week with, than the challenge of the mission.

“Welcome back” Plo once again pushed his pleasure at them in the Force. Predictably, Obi-Wan’s eyes slid away from looking him in the face, but he smiled gratefully all the same as Plo plucked the bulky pack out of his hands and shouldered it. Anakin nearly skipped as they all headed towards the exit and made for the Kenobi/Skywalker residence.

“Thank you Master, it’s good to see you-“

“Master Plo, it was so wizard we went in a hyperlane and the pilot let me sit up front and Chose was awesome Master it was hailing when we got there, like really hard rain! And they had massive beds and loads of puddings and me and Master Obi-Wan went to a play with singing-“

As the child rambled excitedly on, Plo shared a bemused look with a resigned Obi-Wan, sending him a wave of amused sympathy at him in the Force. Received with a dry raise of the young man’s eyebrows.

It must have been a long week for the twenty-three-year-old.

Content to let the child’s happiness wash over him, and Obi-Wan appearing to enjoy the lack of expected contribution for once, the journey to the flat was mostly uneventful, only a few Jedi casting them amused looks at Anakin’s wild gesticulating.

“Anakin, Obi-Wan!”

They were stopped from keying in the door code by Mace’s cry of greeting as he rounded the corner towards the little group. Ignoring Plo he went straight up to the boys, Anakin beaming at him and Obi-Wan bowing once again.

“Master”

“Hi Master Mace! Guess what? We saw hail on Chose and-

“Anakin” Obi-Wan blissfully interrupted before the whole recount could begin again. “Why don’t we get inside and get the tea on and then you can tell Master Mace and Master Plo all about our mission” he suggested firmly, in a way that was definitely not a suggestion.

“Yes Master”

Obi-Wan keyed in their code and stepped inside, Anakin following happily kicking off his boots by the door.

Mace, still giving Plo the cold shoulder, stepped inside first. And made a distinct noise of surprise. Plo followed curiously looking over his shoulder.

“Obi-Wan – what happened?” he asked, aghast.

Plo held back an unseemly laugh.

The flat was a tip.

There were robes on the floor, he spotted two pairs of boots sticking out from under the sofa and a discarded pack under the table. What looked like the entire Temple’s supply of mugs were scattered on almost every surface, alongside precariously stacked datapads and flimsy piles on the tables and on the floor, some of which had fallen over.

As he picked his way across the room, avoiding random bits of droid and one or two power tools, Plo could spy a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the kitchen counter when he peered inside, and about three days worth of washing up. A laundry basket was sitting next to the washing machine, overflowing with brown and beige.

The two young Jedi stood awkwardly in the middle of the flat.

Obi-Wan flushed a little.

“Ah, we left on quite short notice” he offered.

“I don’t think it’s that bad really” Anakin offered with an awkward shrug, slyly kicking something further under the sofa.

“This is….” Mace was lost for words. Whilst Plo hadn’t spent much time in Master Kenobi’s home the first time around, he had always thought the man to be fastidiously clean, and what he had seen had been very tidy.

Anakin however, was no surprise.

Plo could sense Mace doing the same thing he was, adding “domestic help” to the Obi-Wan Support List. They’d been so focussed on studies and their boy’s personal development they completely forgot that the Knight had never lived by himself before, never mind taken care of a youngling!

Obi-Wan apologetically shoved some pads and an old robe off the sofa to make space and disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

The two Masters sat down gingerly. Anakin on the floor opposite.

“Your mission was a success?” Plo asked conversationally as Obi-Wan reappeared with the mugs of tea. Plo caught Mace peering at the rim for signs of prior use, and gave him a look.

“Yeah” Anakin answered before Obi-Wan could get a word in “the Chosians didn’t like me at first but they really liked Master Obi-Wan and they spent ages talking. And people kept giving him stuff.” The boy explained with a disgusted expression. “Flowers and cakes and-“

“Yes thank you Padawan” Obi-Wan interrupted loudly, his ears turning a rather bright shade of pink. Mace smirked at him and Plo sent his partner a mental swat.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“The mission was a success and the Tume Agreement has been updated and signed.” The Knight took a sip of his tea. “We will not need to go back for a while, it should be valid for another ten years” he finished casually as if accomplishing something no Jedi had managed before, on his first mission, was an afterthought.

Mace and Plo shared a look.

Just like last time.

It was a huge relief that their presence had had no adverse effects on the Negotiator’s skills. As Plo sat and listened to Mace congratulate the blushing young man he had a thought.

What could these two, The Team; the best Jedi of his generation and the most powerful force user ever, accomplish with the support of Mace and Plo this time around?

The Sith had better pack their bags. He thought smugly.

---

To get a feel for the whole set up of Obi-Wan Anakin’s first mission when they were assigned it “the first time around” read this Snippet Of Nothing, which is the mission being discussed, and is from the councils point of view.

#Space Dads Go Time Travelling #plo koon #mace windu #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Bby anakin #fluff #Old married couple Mace and Plo #surprisingly messy Obi-Wan #bit long this one #obi-wan fanfic

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davidmann95 · 3 years

Note

Sooo… Superman and the Authority?

magnus-king123 asked: Your thoughts on Superman & the authority Give it to me...lol

Anonymous asked: Seeing Bezos take his little trip into space the same day Morrison puts out a Superman comic that touches on how far we’ve fallen from the days when we dreamed of utopian futures where everyone explored the stars was a big gut punch. Not used to Superman being topical in that way.

Anonymous asked: What'd you think of Superman and the Authority#1?

This is far beyond what I can fit in the normal weekly reviews, so taking this as my notes on the first six pages, with this and this as my major lead-in thoughts:

* Janin's such a perfect fit for Morrison - the scale, the power, the facial expressions selling the character work, the screwing around with the panel formatting as necessary to sell the effect, the numinous sense of things going on larger than you can fully perceive amidst the beauty and chaos. It's a shame he wasn't around 25 years ago to draw JLA, but I'll take him going with Morrison onto other future projects.

* His intro action sequence is such a great demonstration of why Black actually does have something to offer, and also how he's such a dumbass desperately needing Superman to save him from himself.

* While Jordie Bellaire didn't legit go with an entirely monochromatic palate the way early previews suggested, it's still an effect frequently and excellently deployed here. And glad to see Steve Wands carry into this from Blackstars since there's such an obvious carryover from its work with Superman.

* "Gentlemen. Ladies. Others." Great both because of the obvious - hey, Superman's nodding at me! - and because it's a phrasing that reinforces that this take on him (and let's be real Morrison) is old as hell.

* I'm mostly past caring about whether this is an alt-Earth Superman until it becomes indisputable one way or another, this and Action both rule so what does it really matter? But while there are still a couple signs in play suggesting some kind of division (the Action Comics #1036 cover, Midnighter up to time-travel shenanigans) the "lost in time" quote clearly thrown in after the fact to explain how he could have met Kennedy outside of 5G that wouldn't be necessary for an Elseworlds, the assorted gestures towards Superman's current status quo, the Kingdom Come symbol appearing in Action, and that Morrison would have had to completely rewrite the ending if this wasn't supposed to be 'the' version of Clark Kent going forward as was the intent when they first planned it all say to me that no, no fooling around, this is our guy going forward one way or another.

* Janin and Bellaire making the first version of the crystal Fortress ever that actually looks as cool as you want it to.

Anonymous asked: I like that Superman and The Authority is basically the anti-All-Star; instead of the laid back, immortal Superman who is supercharged, we have a stressed, ageing Superman whose tremendous powers are fading. The former will always be there to save us, but the latter is running out of time and needs to pull off a Hail Mary. Also, he mentions in his monologue to Black that he was "lost in time" when he met JFK, so maybe he is the main continuity Clark. Or he's the t-shirt Supes from Sideways.

* You're absolutely right - the power reversal is obvious and the ticking clock in play seemingly isn't for his own survival but everyone around him as he wakes up and realizes all the old icons grew complacent with the gains they'd made and he's not leaving behind the world he meant to. Both, however, are built on the idea of preparing the world to not need them anymore - it'll still have a Superman in his son, but that'll only work because of the others he empowers and inspires. The question is what happens to Clark if he's not going to live in the sun for 83000 years.

* Clark's 'exercise' here does more to sell me on the idea of Old Man Superman as a cool idea than however many decades of Earth 2 stuff.

* Intergang being noted alongside Darkseid and Doomsday speaks to how much Kirby informed Morrison's conception of Superman.

* This isn't exactly the most progressive in its disability politics but at least it makes clear Black's being a piece of shit about it.

* It's startling how much Clark can get away with saying stuff in here you'd never expect to come out of Superman's mouth. "I made an executive decision" "Privacy, really...?" "You have nowhere to go, Black. Nothing to live for." "There are few people in my life who I instinctively and viscerally dislike, and you've always been one of them." It only works because there's zero aggression behind it, he's just past the point of niceties and being totally frank while making clear none of these assessments preclude that he cares and is going to unconditionally do the right thing every time. He is absolutely, per Morrison, humanity's dad picking us up when we're too drunk to drive ourselves home.

* The story doesn't put a big flashing light over it, but it's not even a little bit subtle having the material threat of the issue be a ticking timebomb left by the carelessness and hubris of generations past.

* Manchester keeps trying to poke the bear and prove his hot takes about Superman and it's just not working. The front he put up under Kelley is gone after decades of defeats, and as Morrison understands what actually conceptually works about him as a rival to Superman underneath the aging nerd paranoia he's exposed as what he absolutely would be in 2021: a dude with a horrific terminal case of Twitter brainworms. I was PANICKED when I heard there was an 'offensive term' joke in this, I was braced for Morrison at their well-meaning worst, but it's such a goddamn perfect encapsulation of a very specific breed of Twitter leftist who uses their politics first and foremost as a cudgel and justification to label their abrasive, judgmental shittiness as self-righteousness (plus it's a killer payoff to a joke from way back in his original appearance). Cannot believe they pulled that off when they're so very, very open about basically not knowing how the internet works.

* @charlottefinn: Manchester Black using his telekinetic powers to force someone he hates to fave a problematic tweet so that he can screenshot it and start a dogpile

@intergalactic-zoo: “Once they cancel Bibbo, Superman won’t be *anyone’s* fav’rit anymore!”

* Friend noted this issue had to be fully the conversation because the whole premise stands on the house of cards of these two somehow working together, and with three 'silent' inset panels the creative team pulls off that turning point.

* So much of this feels on the surface like Morrison bringing back the All-Star vibes with Clark, but when he drops a "That's all you got?" in a brawl you realize what's underlining that bluntness and confidence in the face of failure is that deep down this is still the Action guy too. This dude ain't gonna get wrecked in his Fortress while the other guy chuckles about him being A SOFT WEE SCIENTIST'S SON!

* Bringing up Jor-El made me realize that Morrison already spelled out that this is the final threat to Superman, what he faces at the end of the road:

"Now it's your turn, Superman."

* A l'il Superman 2000/All-Star reference with the Phantom Zone map!

* There's so much intertextuality going on here even by Morrison standards - Change or Die with the old hero putting together a team of morally nebulous folks out to 'fix' everything, Flex Mentallo with the muscleman trying to redeem the punk, Doomsday Clock with the fate of the world hinging on whether Superman can get through to a meta stand-in for an idea of 'modern' comics cynicism, DKR and New Frontier and Kingdom Come and Multiversity and Seven Soldiers and What's So Funny and All-Star and Action and the last 5 years of monthly Superman comics and Authority and probably Jupiter's Legacy and Tom Strong - but none of that's needed. You could go in with the baseline pop cultural understanding of the character and not care about any of the inside baseball shit and get that this is a story about a leader of a generation that let down the people they made all their grand promises to as inertia and day-to-day demands and complacency let him be satisfied with the accomplishments they'd made long ago, looking at a new era and seeing the ways its own activists are dropping the ball. The only thing that fundamentally matters in a "you have to accept you're reading a superhero story" sense is that because he's Superman he's willing to own up to it and listen to people who might know better about some things and try to set things right while he and those who'll take his place still have a chance. And yes, the oldster looking back on their legacy with a skeptical eye and hoping for better from the next generation, hoping most of all that their little heir apparent can fulfill the promise inside of him instead of being a provocating little shitkicker, is obviously also autobiographical.

* The overlaying Kennedy reprisal is such a great visual of a sudden intrusive thought.

* The Kryptonite secret is the obvious "This is going to matter!" moment, but "He lied about his son" is a bit that doesn't connect to anything going on right now so maybe that's important here too? More significantly, the Justice League can't actually be the villains here but that Ultra-Humanite's crew are in an Earth-orbiting satellite makes pretty clear what's up.

* I've said before that between Superman, OMAC, and a New Gods-affiliated speedster this was going to use all of Morrison's favorite things. King Arthur playing a role isn't exactly dissuading me.

* Love the idea that all the antiheroes have their own community in the same way as the capes and tights crew. They definitely all privately think the rest are posers though and that they alone are Garth Ennis Punisher in a mob of Garth Ennis Wolverines.

* Manchester's fallen so far he's gone from trying to convince Superman to kill to convince him to dunk on people for their bad takes and Clark just doesn't get it. Official prediction of dialogue for upcoming issues:

"According to these bloody Fortress scans, the only thing that can restore your powers is an unfiltered hit of dopamine. Don't worry, Doctor Black has a few ideas."

"Hmm. Maybe I'll plant a nice tree?"

"...fuck you."

* Ok I already talked about how great the Fortress looks in here but LOVE this library.

* A pair of pages this seems like the right spot to discuss from Black's original appearance that underlines both his and Superman's inadequacies up to this point:

Responding to the problem of "the government and penal system are hopelessly corrupt" neither of them has any actual notion of what to do about it in spite of their respective posturing beyond how to handle individual outside actors - each is in their own way every bit as small-minded and reactionary as the other. Clark's coming around though, and he's holding out hope for the other guy.

* Superman: Have a lovely mineral water :) proper hydration is important :)

Manchester Black: *Is a dude who can get so mad he vomits and passes out. At water.*

* That last page is the one to beat for the year, and does more to put over the idea of this as an Authority book than that Midnighter and Apollo are literally going to show up. It also feels like Morrison tacitly acknowledging all the ways the premise could go or at least be received wrong - from Superman saying 'enough is enough' to who he's bringing into the fold to go about it - in the most beautifully on-the-nose fashion imaginable. Maybe they'll save us all! Or maybe they'll drown us in their vomit.

#Superman and The Authority #Superman #The Authority #Manchester Black #Grant Morrison #Mikel Janin #Jordie Bellaire #Steve Wands #Opinion

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emerald-studies · 4 years

Text

Racist Clothing Brands + Black Brands to Buy From Instead:

Racist Brands

Chanel

Chanel has been repeatedly accused of racially profiling Black customers and last year they hired a white woman as head of their "diversity and inclusion" department.

Gucci

Gucci has a complicated history with the Black community, stemming from them all but trying to destroy Dapper Dan's business only to hire him two decades later. Most recently they came under fire for releasing a sweater that had suspiciously Blackface elements and stealing designs from Black designers.

Prada

Prada has a similar history and they recently had to apologize after releasing a collection of monkey key chains.

Dior

Dior's most recent fragrance campaign came under fire for racist undertones but a Black Hollywood stylist also gave BET.com an account of an incident that she had with a brand. The stylist requests to remain anonymous says, "they compromised our creative relationship by not following through on requests and instead loaning looks that were promised to me to white actors instead."

Celine

Celine's branding is notoriously extremely thin and extremely white. A quick scroll of their social media will reveal exactly their opinion on Black lives.

Barney’s

Before going bankrupt, Barney's had to pay out a settlement in a racial discrimination case of $525k to two plantiffs.

Moda Operandi

A former employee of the company released this thread on Moda Operandi, citing several micro aggressions she suffered there.

Burberry

Burberry issued an apology after releasing a sweater featuring a noose motif.

Tommy Hilfiger

In 1996, Tommy Hilfiger famously made comments against the Black community and has since clarified what he meant, but the hurt in the community lingers.

Moschino

Managers discriminated against black customers who did not appear to be rich or famous.

“If a potential black client was not a celebrity and did not have an outward appearance of money via diamonds or name brands, defendant [Ranna] Selbak called them a ‘Serena’ to other sales associates and wanted the ‘Serena’ to be closely watched,” according to the complaint.

Versace

A former male Versace employee sued Versace for allegedly firing him after his manager realized he was Black.

Zara

Zara was accused of using racial code words for black and Latinx customers. The Center for Popular Democracy surveyed 251 Zara employees in New York City about the retailer’s practices. Poll respondents said that when the term “special order” was used at the store, employees were to find the location of the shoppers in question and follow them around. Black customers were most often described as “special orders,” according to the survey results.

Reformation

They were criticised for their internal practices by a black former employee, Elle Santiago. Santiago said she was denied work promotions in favor of white colleagues, as well as being ignored by the company founder, Yael Aflalo, because of her race.

“Being overlooked and undervalued as a woman of color who worked and managed their flagship store for three years was the hardest,” Santiago wrote in an Instagram post picked up by industry watchdog Diet Prada. “I cried many times knowing [that] the color of my skin would get me nowhere in the company.”

Urban Outfitters

“As one of very few PoC [people of color] I quickly noticed the toxic environment I’d joined,” says the former employee, who wishes to remain anonymous. “Within my first month my manager made a flippant racist comment in regards to an Uber I’d called; the driver’s name was Muhammad. Her comment was, ‘You would get a Muhammad’ – in what I can only take as a comment made because of my heritage.

“There’s no PoC in the executive team and very little representation of PoC in head office, on the website, marketing campaigns and within the retail management teams.”

The company has a history of producing offensive items of clothing, including a seemingly blood-spattered T-shirt seen as a reference to the 1970 Kent State shootings; a T-shirt in a color named “Obama/Black”; another featuring a six-pointed badge, which seemed to allude to the Star of David badge that Jewish people were forced to wear during the Holocaust; and a racially insensitive Navajo line which used the Navajo nation name illegally.

Dolce & Gabbana

Ads, featured a Chinese woman struggling to eat spaghetti and pizza with chopsticks.

Comme des Garçons

White models wore wigs of traditional Black people’s hairstyles during its men’s autumn/winter 2020 show.

BLACK BRANDS

ASATA MAISE

This designer transforms vintage fabrics into unique pieces that are made to be photographed. I mean, this whole slideshow of looks is A-R-T. Of course, being a one-person business can be overwhelming, so if you have the means, you can donate to Asata's GoFundMe which will provide her with equipment to keep up with demand.

Website: asatamaise.com

MIE

If dreamy, flowy dresses are up your alley, you definitely want to give this brand a follow. All the pretty pieces, including this stunning red puff-sleeve number, are made by local seamstresses and artisans in Lagos, Nigeria where it's based.

Website: mie.ng

JBD Apparel

Kim Kardashian recently gave this brand a shoutout, and it's easy to see why she's a fan of these body-hugging knit sets. All the pieces are handmade to order.

Website: jbdapparel.com

PHLEMUNS

Another celeb fave is this gender-neutral brand designed by James Flemons and based out in Los Angeles. Solange Knowles, Lizzo, Billie Eilish, Clairo, Lil Nas X, Miley Cyrus, and Bella Hadid have all worn its designs.

Website: phlemuns.com

RIOT SWIM

Looking for a truly standout swimwear piece to add to your summer wardrobe? Check out this label designed by Monti Landers featuring minimalistic silhouettes and shades that blend in seamlessly with darker skin tones.

Website: riotswim.com

COME BACK AS A FLOWER

Specializing in hand-dyed garments, the pieces are ethically made using 100 percent recycled cotton. It also does drops of cool vintage tees, and stars like ASAP Rocky and Big Sean have worn its clothes.

Website: cbaaf.org

HUMANS BEFORE HANDLES

This jewelry label has some of the cutest accessories for summer (eyeing these seashell ones, wow), and most impressive is the fact that everything is under $50.

Website: humansbeforehandles.com

LAQUAN SMITH

Here’s a real celeb fave (Rihanna, Beyoncé, and sooo many more have worn his pieces). Go to LaQuan Smith for any of your glam/sexy outfit needs, please!

Website: laquansmith.com

BROTHER VELLIES

Founder Aurora James creates truly one-of-a-kind shoes (please look at this pair of mesh boots topped with feathers) and small leather goods that are handmade by artisans around the world.

Website: brothervellies.com

CUSHNIE

Designer Carly Cushnie’s sleek styles have been worn by the likes of Jennifer Lopez, Ashley Graham, and Lupita Nyong’o, btw.

Website: cushnie.com

JADE SWIM

Need a swimsuit? You’re going to want one of these pretty, minimal designs by former fashion editor and stylist Brittany Kozerski.

Website: jadeswim.com

CHRISTOPHER JOHN ROGERS

The 26-year-old designer from Louisiana was one of the hottest tickets at New York Fashion Week in February 2020, and high-profile ladies like Michelle Obama and Cardi B. have worn his unique, colorful pieces. Find his clothing exclusively at Net-a-Porter online.

Website: christopherjohnrogers.com

MATEO NEW YORK

Matthew Harris of Mateo New York is a self-taught jewelry designer hailing from Montego Bay, Jamaica, and living in NYC. Shop here for beautifully minimal 14k-gold fine jewelry.

Website: mateonewyork.com

TELFAR

Looking for something truly magical and out there? Consider designer Telfar Clemens, whose hybrid pieces (hello, “sweatpant jeans” and “scarf-collar shirt”) really stand out.

Website: telfar.net

FENTY

DUH.

Website: fenty.com

PYER MOSS

Founded by designer Kerby Jean-Raymond in 2013, Pyer Moss uses its platform for social change, storytelling, and activism as well as art and design. For shopping, come for the bright, matching suits, glam, and pleated gowns and stay for comfy sweats and jeans.

Website: pyermoss.com

+ More Brands Here +

#blm #gucci #urban outfitters #black lives matter #black brands #black owned #tommy hilfiger #dolce and gabbana #zara #chanel #versace #juneteenth

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi! Do you think you’d be willing to write some Cubs fluff for Mardi Gras? Like Leo making Finn and Lo do something (I don’t exactly know how it’s celebrated)?

Oh my god I LOVE Mardi Gras!!! Also, I haven’t done Cubs fluff in a while, and I combined it with a couple other related prompts. This fic includes Cubs and Coops bonding (ft. Logan being a little shit), Leo learning to drive in the snow, a chaotic trip to the grocery store, and Lions family dinner after a winter walk. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, as always <3

“Eas—Easy, babe, just take it nice and steady,” Finn gripped the ‘oh, shit’ handle with one hand and Leo’s thigh with the other; in the backseat, Logan rubbed his neck where the seatbelt bit into it.

Leo took an unsteady breath and carefully pressed the gas again, wincing as the car rumbled under him. “Oh god, oh fuck, okay.”

“Snow isn’t that hard to drive in—” Finn cut off as Leo slammed on the brakes again. “—as long as you don’t brake hard whenever you feel a little bit of ice. Lo, you okay?”

“Fine,” Logan wheezed, bracing against the car door.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Finn murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the road as Leo began inching forward again. “If you start to slip, take your foot off the gas and do not slam the brakes, okay? We don’t want to skid.”

“I don’t get why you can’t drive us there,” Leo said, glancing in each of his mirrors even though they were still in a fairly residential area. Ten minutes on the road and they’d barely made it four blocks from the apartment.

“Because you need to know how to drive properly.”

“I know how to drive!” Leo saw Finn and Logan exchange a look through the rearview mirror and smacked him lightly on the chest. “Stop it. When’s my next turn?”

“Still 53rd.”

“Left or right?”

“Right.” Finn tapped out a quick text on his phone. “Cap and Loops just arrived at the store.”

“Fuck,” Leo muttered.

“It’s okay, Peanut, take your time,” Logan said. “Just focus on getting there safely.”

Leo tried to breathe deep and they rolled down the block, flinching each time snow or ice crackled under the tires or threatened to make them slide. “I drive in the rain all the time. This shouldn’t be hard.”

“Rain is way different than snow.” Finn pointed to the next intersection. “Turn there.”

They took the turn a bit wide, but thankfully there were no cars on the other side—still, both Finn and Logan went pale. Logan cleared his throat. “Streets here aren’t as wide as New Orleans, mon amour.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Leo grumbled. “How much further?”

“The parking lot is on the next block.”

They almost got stuck driving up the small ramp into the parking lot due to Leo’s ‘slow and steady’ approach and he could have sworn he heard Logan muttering the Hail Mary in French under his breath. Parking was easy—nobody in their right mind would be driving after a true Gryffindor snowstorm. Except us, he thought wryly as he turned the engine off.

“Don’t forget to lock the car,” Finn said mere seconds after the key was out.

“Dude.”

“Sorry. Uh, Cap’s by the produce section.”

They were too focused on not slipping and falling on their asses to talk much while they walked through several snowdrifts to get to the front entrance of the grocery store; Leo sighed with happiness as soon as the heated air hit his face.

“Harzy!” Cap waved an arm over his head from the apple stand, smiling brightly. “You survived!”

“It was a close one,” Finn called back with a grin, sliding his hand into Leo’s back pocket as the three of them walked over.

“Dibs on riding in the cart!” One of Logan’s legs was already halfway into the basket before Sirius could stop him; he kicked aside the celery and onions and settled down, leaning back onto Sirius’ hands. “Bonjour.”

“Get out.”

“Non. I live here now.”

“I’m not pushing you.”

“I will!” Finn said. “Where’s the old ball and chain, Capsicle?”

“Call me that again and you can say goodbye to your ball and chain,” Remus said drily, lugging a bag of rice over from the other aisle. He stopped when he saw Logan, looking amused. “Hiya, Tremz. You look comfy.”

“Oh, I am.” Logan lounged in the cart, letting one leg drape over the side; he groaned when Remus set the rice bag on his chest. “Was that necessary?”

“No, but it was funny.” He grinned at Leo. “How was driving?”

Leo shrugged. “Decent.”

Sirius snorted as they began walking toward the meat section. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s a miracle I wasn’t beheaded,” Logan said. “Fish, how fast can you make it to the end of the aisle?”

“Loops, time me.” Finn tightened his grip on the cart and bent into a runner’s stance; Leo and Sirius both rolled their eyes as Remus dug his phone out of his pocket and opened up the timer.

“Ready…set…go!” Finn ran for three steps before hopping onto the under carriage as Logan whooped. Remus stopped the timer. “Four point six seconds! Get back here, I wanna try.”

“You’re not going to beat that time,” Logan laughed as he climbed out of the cart.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at the same time Remus stuck his tongue out. “Watch me. Knutty, can I trust you to be an unbiased timer?”

Leo shrugged. “Sure, gimme your phone.”

“You have one of your very own.”

“Trying to hide something, are we?” Logan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sirius pushed him away by the forehead. “Spill the beans, Loops! Got some spicy messages in there? Some things poor baby Nutter Butter can’t handle?”

“No, I just don’t trust any of you with anything that belongs to me,” he laughed. “You’re walking safety hazards.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Leo said as he set the timer. “Ready? Go!”

Sirius nearly tipped the cart over when he stood on the lower bar, making both of them yelp and wobble for a moment. Leo stopped the clock at the end of the aisle. Three point nine seconds.

“Sorry, guys, that’s four point eight seconds!” he called as Sirius pushed the cart back up to them.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Show me the phone.”

“I already reset the time.”

“So we definitely won,” Sirius said while Remus clambered out of the basket and Logan took his place. “Get out, Tremzy!”

“Make me!”

Sirius reached in and grabbed him under his armpits, but Logan kept a tight grip on the sides. “Are you done?” Remus asked wearily once Sirius started shaking him. “ ‘cause our grocery list is, like, a million miles long.”

With a disgruntled noise, Sirius dropped Logan back into the cart. “With any luck, he’ll be crushed under the food. What’s next?”

They had a few more competitions during their journey through the store, including onion basketball, vegetable Tetris, and a highly amusing game of twenty questions that ended in Sirius laying the bag of rice over Logan’s face.

Leo did some mental math as they walked out with six grocery bags full of ingredients. “We’ll need about seven pots to fit all this, but we’ve only got two that would work.”

“I think we’ve got one or two as well,” Remus said as he hauled a bag into the trunk of their car and brushed his hands off. “Celeste probably has some, and I can give Lily a call. Where are we making it, again?”

“Dumo’s. There’s nowhere near enough space at the apartment and I don’t want these two anywhere close to it.”

Finn shot him an offended look over a bag of onions. “Hey!”

“I love you, sweetheart, but if you fuck up my gumbo I’ll cry.” In the back of his mind, Leo was already thinking of small jobs for Logan and Finn to do so they could make it together, but they didn’t need to know that. It could be a Mardi Gras surprise.

“The sun’s coming out,” Sirius mused, looking upward at the clear blue sky. “Nothing we bought is going to melt. Do you want to go for a walk before we head out?”

Logan checked his phone. “We’ve got time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Leo agreed.

“I’m never going to say no to a snow day,” Finn laughed, wrapping his arms around Leo and Logan. “Lead the way.”

“So, Knutty, gumbo is basically chicken noodle soup, right?” Sirius asked as he linked elbows with Remus and started down the sidewalk.

“Uh, no.” Leo made a disgusted face and reached out to smack the back of his shoulder. “That’s blasphemy. Gumbo is more like stew, but you put less meat in it and more of a vegetable base. There aren’t noodles, either. Do you even know what a roux is?”

Sirius glanced back at Finn, who shrugged. “…I do not.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Leo muttered. “A roux is the base to all good New Orleans food. It’s flour and oil, and you heat it up so whatever you’re making has an actual taste to it, as well as some thickness. If you get it wrong, the whole thing is pretty much ruined.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Damn.”

Ahead of them, a pack of kids played pickup hockey on the park’s frozen pond. Several of them wore Lions sweatshirts or hats and Leo leaned his head on Finns beanie with a smile. “Look at how cute they are,” Finn cooed, waving to some of the astonished parents who had spotted them.

“Oh, killer hit,” Remus said as one kid went on a breakaway. “Is he—hey, nice shot!”

They paused for a second to applaud and a jumble of excited yelling echoed off the trees around the pond; Leo burst out laughing and draped his other arm across Logan’s shoulders, pulling him in closer to their huddle as they began to walk again. “We should head out there sometime. We live close enough.”

Finn hummed in agreement and stood on his tiptoes with a hopeful smile. “Kisses?”

Leo obliged, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous. That had nothing to do with hockey.”

“I didn’t get any kisses,” Logan grumbled, snuggling into Leo’s ribs.

“Get up here and I’ll give you one!”

“My nose is cold!”

Leo sighed dramatically and bent down to kiss the rosy tip of his nose—at the last second, Logan popped his chin out of his coat collar and caught his lips. “That was smooth as fuck. Better?”

“Much.”

“Are you three being gross again?” Remus teased, craning his neck to look back.

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“One walk,” Sirius sighed. “I wanted one walk where we could hang out in peace and quiet.”

“You invited the wrong people for that,” Leo snickered as they looped back around the block into the parking lot. “Harzy, baby, can you drive us back?”

“You need to learn!”

Leo turned on his saddest puppy eyes and stuck his lower lip out. “Please?”

Finn scrunched his nose up and flicked his shoulder lightly. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Obviously.”

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

After a quick pit stop at their apartment to pick up the pots, they arrived at the Dumais house just past two in the afternoon. Sirius and Remus pulled into the driveway just as they began unloading groceries from the truck and hurried over to give them a hand; all five of them were immediately mobbed by children the second they set foot in the house. Leo carefully took the onions from Logan so he could sweep Katie over his shoulder and tickle her knees, making her dissolve into giggles.

“My boys!” Celeste called from the entrance to the kitchen. She practically glowed with excitement as she pulled them into a group hug and Leo melted a little when she pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “You brought the food, yes?”

“We’ve got everything we need,” he confirmed, holding the onions and a pot up as proof. “As long as you’ve got counter space, we’ll be a-okay.”

Sirius and Logan lingered in the doorway, chatting with the kids in rapid French that Leo didn’t even try to keep up with—he used to think regional differences were made up for internet clout, but even after living with Logan for close to a year he sometimes struggled with the pace.

Celeste helped them gather cutting boards, knives, and basic spices that they hadn’t picked up at the store; Leo felt a thrill in his gut and drummed his hands happily on the countertop at the sight of the familiar ingredients. He made a mental note to send a picture to his mother later that night as he rolled up his sleeves.

“Think you can handle rinsing vegetables?” he asked, passing Finn a bag of green peppers.

Finn rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and he pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek before going to the sink. Remus unpacked the last of the bags and gave him an expectant look—Leo was struck by the sudden realization that for once, he was the only one in the kitchen who knew the recipe.

“Um, I’ll start the roux,” he said, grabbing the flour and oil. “Loops, can you start dicing the peppers, celery, and onions? Cap can help out once he gets the squid children off him.”

A smile tugged at the edge of Remus’ mouth. “Bold of you to assume he won’t drag them in here.”

“Alright, Rookie, what’s my job?” Sirius panted, grinning wildly as Adele wrapped herself around his lower leg and groaned with each dragging step.

Remus spared him a playful I told you so look, and Leo shook his head. “As long as you can use a knife with a kid clinging to your leg, you can help your fiancé chop the basics.”

Sirius mock-saluted him and hobbled to the counter; behind him, Logan wandered in with Marc under one arm and Katie under the other. “I have potato sack delivery,” he announced, giving them each a gentle shake. “Can these go in the gumbo, too?”

“No!” both shrieked at the same time, flailing their legs.

“Those look like pretty good potatoes to me…” Sirius said, glancing down at Adele. “What do you think?”

“Put ‘em in the soup!” she yelled.

“It’s not soup,” Leo complained, though he couldn’t be heard over the loud protests of the youngest Dumais kids.

Sirius finally got Adele to let go of him when he started cutting onions—“Do you want to smell like onions?”—but Katie perched on the edge of the counter and watched every move Leo made with eagle eyes as he finished each roux and began mixing the trinity in. Each motion was muscle memory—the smells wrapped him in a hug made of tangy peppers, smooth chicken broth, and a kick of spice at the very end.

Much to his surprise, Sirius, Finn, and Logan were quick learners. Making five massive pots of gumbo was much easier when he had five more hands helping him; Celeste had even been sweet enough to put jazz on as they cooked and the six of them took turns dancing, partnering with whomever was closest.

The others started arriving at five—almost immediately, the kitchen was crowded with ten new hockey players who crammed as close as they could to the stovetop to smell the bubbling broth. Noelle was the only one who was allowed to get within ten feet of the food, much to Talker’s chagrin.

Honestly, it was a miracle that they made it to the table without the rest of the team falling on the gumbo like a pack of wild hyenas who hadn’t eaten for a week. Kasey’s bouncy leg shook the edge of the table in anticipation until Leo reached over and smacked him on the thigh with his spoon. “Be patient, Bliz.”

“I’m always patient!”

Eight different people made noises of protest and he scoffed, leaning his face over the bowl to get a whiff of the thick steam. Dumo tapped his fork on the side of his cup; it wasn’t quite a classy ding-ding, but it made enough noise to catch people’s attention.

“First, thank you all for coming here for a family dinner,” he said, smiling so wide it made Leo’s heart warm. “Second, I’d like to welcome the older and wiser O’Hara to his very first Lions dinner, since he had the great fortune of visiting just in time to be adopted by the team for a night!”

Loud cheers filled the house and Alex gave a slight wave, blushing under the attention as Kasey and Nat jostled him between their shoulders.

“And finally, everyone say ‘thank you’ to Knutty for sharing his top-secret gumbo recipe from home. We might not celebrate Mardi Gras like New Orleans, but this is a party nonetheless.” Dumo raised his water with a wink and Leo squeezed Logan’s hand under the table as seventeen voices thanked him for his cooking, despite the fact that they hadn’t even tasted it yet.

The house went dead silent as people took their first bites, then erupted into noise. “Holy shit, Knutty!” Nado all but shouted, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. “This is witchcraft.”

“It’s called ‘cooking’, you should try it sometime,” Leo shot back, grinning. The chicken thighs melted in his mouth, and the pop of lemon and spice at the back of his throat tingled all the way down to his bones. He didn’t think Pots had taken a breath in thirty straight seconds. Leo closed his eyes, letting the tangled muddle of his family’s voices roll over him, mixing with the taste of home.

“Ça va, mon amour?” Logan asked under his breath, touching his elbow.

Leo smiled and touched their foreheads together, setting his spoon down on the edge of his bowl. “I’m so fucking happy right now.”

Logan smiled and the edges of his eyes crinkled. “You look happy.”

“You two are whispering without me?” Finn whined, scooting his chair over a few inches and squishing Logan between them. His bowl was already half-empty, Leo noted with a sense of satisfaction. “That’s rude.”

“I love you,” Leo said. It needed no embellishments; no big, dramatic displays. “And I love making food for everyone.”

“You can do it any time, baby rookie.” Kasey scraped the sides of his bowl to catch the last few grains of cornbread, knocking his knee with Leo’s. “Next time we have a sleepover, I’m not ordering pizza.”

“So I’m going to be your personal chef?” Leo snorted. “Not a chance.”

“What’s that saying? The Mardi Gras one?”

Leo savored his next bite of gumbo and looked around the table as everyone chatted and laughed at the top of their lungs. “Laissez les bon temps rouler,” he said. “Let the good times roll.”

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silentfcknhill · 3 years

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FAVORITE SHOWS IN POSTERS

Well, we’re back for another installment of this tagged meme, this time for TV shows! I also stole this from/was indirectly tagged by @jcmorrigan. My taste in shows also differs a bit from my taste in movies, as I tend to like a lot of comedy shows with not as many horror ones. I’m not into shows as much as movies overall, but there are some that I am very passionate about so I picked twenty again. So, here we go for part 2, in order:

1. Avatar: The Last Airbender/The Legend Of Korra (2005-2014)

I'm including these as one show since they take place in the same universe and tell a continuation of the same overall plot. Altogether this is probably the best piece of media to ever exist, including movies. It has so many great characters and villains especially and some of the most epic sequences, charming humor and heartwarming moments ever. I've never met a person who didn't like these shows, even people who normally don't like cartoons. My dad, who is biased against animation? He loved it. My mother? She loved it, watched it with her multiple times. My grandmother? Loved it. My ex-boyfriend? Loved it. My best friend? Loved it. I dare anyone not to, and I'm so glad it's making a resurgence since it's on Netflix for a new generation to enjoy.

2. Black Butler (2008-2014)

I never was big into anime growing up and only really started watching anime when I was like 16 and above, but this is one of the exceptions because holy shit is it ever dark and epic. I'm not sure I'd really recommend it for kids, it's more of a teens and young adults kind of anime and that's probably why it's so good, because it isn't afraid to explore dark and mature topics and do it with all of the intensity and gravitas required to do said topics justice. It has lots of great characters, and the story of demons who make deals with children who have a dark side is fun to watch play out.

3. Seinfeld (1989-1998)

My dad was a huge fan of this show so I watched it growing up since I was a toddler and it became a classic for me. I've watched thw hole show through at least 8 times, and I'll never stop because it never gets old or boring. It's also my only comfort show when I'm having a panic attack because of one time a few years ago when I was having a drug-induced psychosis episode and watching it calmed me down, so now it's like the opposite of a trigger and whenever I'm having an episode or something I watch it to bring me back to reality. For that reason it's more than a show to me, it's a medical treatment and I'm forever grateful to it.

4. The Good Place (2016-2020)

The big four shows made my Michael Schur all made it on this post (The Good Place, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Office and Parks And Recreation), either in the main list of the honorable mentions, but this is my personal favorite of the four. It's so funny, quirky, relatable and basically tailor-made to suit my interests. Not only is it an entertaining and wholesome show, but I think watching it helped me come to terms with a lot of things like mortality, ethics, philosophy, religion and my relationships with other people. It gets alot of different viewpoints across and if you're a very analytical and philosophical person like me you'll probably enjoy seeing it all play out. Not to mention, every single character is 'favorite character' material. It's rare you find a show with no filler characters in the main cast, but I genuinely can't choose who is best.

5. Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013-?)

Another of Michael Schur's shows, this one is just barely under The Good Place and to be honest it was tough to pick my favorite between the two because they're both equally funny. I know it's kind of controversial right now because of the whole law enforcement thing, but I actually think they do a good job of handling social issues in the show and remaining respectful of real-life systemic problems. As for the characters, this is another one of those shows where every single character is gold and I think that tends to be a trend among Schur's shows in general. He produces damn good comedy, and damn good characters. I can't wait to see what they bring next.

6. Rick And Morty (2013-?)

This is unfortunately one of those cases of 'great show, horrible fandom' and for that reason I don't get involved in the fandom even though I love the show. It's a shame because it really is a great show, so funny and, again, such good characters. I think it's a lot more accessible than the fandom likes to claim, so I'm hoping more people will give it a chance and not get put off by the intellectual elitism of the fandom because it does have some of the most entertaining and batshit crazy episodes ever, poking fun of some of the staples of science fiction in media while also poking fun of itself the whole time. Unlike the fandom, the show doesn't take itself seriously and that's enjoyable nowadays.

7. Orange Is The New Black (2013-2019)

While this show is a comedy, it is also a lot of other things and it's probably made me ugly-cry just as many times as it's made me laugh. Well, maybe not as often, but those few scenes (if you've watched the show then you know the ones I'm talking about) made me hysterically sob hard enough to be worth like fifty minor sads. But I didn't even mind because the show is just that good, and it makes you /feel/ something in a real way. Probably because of just how real it gets in terms of telling stories that happen all the time in the real world, sometimes with inevitably tragic endings. But these things do happen every day, and it's important to shine a light on that. It's not just representation for LGBTQ+ but also for POC, the neurodiverse, the poor, and many more. Give it a watch to broaden your perspective!

8. Big Mouth (2017-?)

This is probably the grossest show I've ever seen but by god is it ever funny. Maybe it's because I have an immature sense of humor or something, but I love this show. It definitely won't be everyone's cup of tea and I don't recommend you watch this show with anyone else around because it will get awkward. I think part of its appeal to me is that everyone I talk to who likes it considers it so relatable to their lives growing up but for someone like me who grew up on the autism and asexual spectrum and who was physically an early-bloomer by years, nothing about this show is relatable to me in any way so it makes it all the more crazy and bizarre watching how the people around me must have experienced things. Did y'all really have these experiences with puberty in middle school???

9. Dexter (2006-2013)

I recently heard that this show is coming back for a reboot soon and I'm so excited because this is my absolute favorite drama/thriller show, as evidenced by the fact that it's the highest one on the list so far that isn't a comedy. I love the idea of having a protagonist who is sort of a villain (or at least morally dubious), and the idea of a serial killer who only kills bad people is particularly satisfying for some reason. Maybe because he's the vigilante we all deserve and want in this unjust and evil world of modern times? Idk but the very premise of this show set it up for big things and aside from the ending I think it delivered consistently.

10. Once Upon A Time (2011-2018)

This show took us on some journeys, and you can't deny that. Sure, maybe it didn't always finish what it started and didn't always end in the most satisfying way, but part of its charm is that you didn't care because the experience was just so much fun. They took characters and stories that have been told to death and somehow managed to put a unique and unexpected twist on them, and that alone is admirable. Good twists, good villains, and pretty much every cliffhanger known to man will keep you hooked on binge-watching every episode.

11. RuPaul's Drag Race (2009-?)

A bit different than the other entries on my list in that it's not fiction but a reality competition show, but I couldn't leave Drag Race out because it's just so fucking iconic and perfect. Even when you disagree with the judges or can't stand a certain contestant you'll still be having a good time. It's got the personalities you love to love, the ones you love to hate, and the comedy that's completely meme-able. I mean just how much has this show contributed to pop culture and the internet? More than most of us, henny. I've watched every single season, even the international ones and all of the spinoffs. This show will probably be on for another thirty years when Ru is throwing shade from a hospital bed and I'll still be watching.

12. House (2004-2012)

Some people hate on this show, and I don't get it. I love House. Yes, he's an ass. That's the point. He's supposed to be unlikeable, and that's why I like him. Maybe because I always love the rude, sarcastic, misanthropic jerkass-genius characters for some reason. And I also love procedural shows, so it's a win-win. I also work in the healthcare field so it appeals to me for that reason too, because obviously the whole premise is outlandish which is what makes it funny. Of course it's not realistic for a hospital, so just enjoy the absurdity and don't get too hung up on the details of medical accuracy and professional ethics and you'll be fine.

13. The Office (2005-2013)

The third of Michael Schur's show and the last one that made the main list (sorry Parks And Rec, I love you too but there was just so many good shows to choose from and I saw you last so the nostalgia isn't as strong!) I don't think I need to hype this show up any, it's already a classic and you can't even turn around online without getting hit in the face by a dozen Office memes. You'll have to pry this show and it's relatable characters (especially Michael Scott) from my cold, dead hands.

14. All Hail King Julien/The Penguins Of Madagascar (2008-2017)

Like Avatar/Korra, I also consider this as one show for the sake of this list because it also takes place in the same universe (Madagascar, specifically) and I just couldn't choose one over the other because they're both so perfect. They're funny and I love all the characters (it cut out the weaker links of the Madagascar film series and just focuses on expanding the standout side-characters like King Julien and the penguins). It also delved into some lore, particularly the first show, and even though I didn't also agree with the directions it took (you may have seen me get salty about the ending because I cared too much), I can't deny how much I love it.

15. Bones (2005-2017)

One of the other scarce non-comedy shows on this list, it still has it's funny moments. It's also, like House, another procedural show that involves some medical stuff, but this time on a more scientific and forensic level which is even more interesting. It's nice to see a lead female with Asperger's, too. There's a lot of cop/law enforcement shows where they try to solve crimes, but this one is the best, and I'm saying that as a fan of CSI as well. Don't fight me on this, I'm right. Oh yes, it's corny, it's campy, it's cheesy, but I love every minute of it. Don't watch if you have a weak stomach though.

16. The Simpsons (1989-?)

We all grew up with this show, don't lie. It's been around longer than most people on tumblr have even been alive. Should it have ended seasons ago? Hell yes. But that doesn't take away what the first like 20 or so seasons gave us (there's a lot of argument about when the show jumped the shark, for me it wasn't until much later than the popular consensus). The characters are amazing, but the secret to the show's longevity is that they always return to status quo and there's comfort and nostalgia in that. Bart will still be in 4th grade when you're out there pushing 90. This show is persistent. This show is eternal. This show will outlive us all.

17. Ash Vs. Evil Dead (2015-2018)

Sorely underrated. This show is hilarious, gruesome and campy as hell and I love it. I don't think you necessarily have to watch the Evil Dead movies beforehand in order to get the plot of the show, although it would probably help. In my opinion this show ended way too soon and I'm hoping someday we'll get a comeback because Ash is the reluctant, self-absorbed hero we all need and it's 2020 so at this point there really might actually be a demon-zombie apocalypse and who's gonna save us then if not for the impulsive womanizer with a chainsaw for a hand?

18. Malcolm In The Middle (2000-2006)

Another show I grew up with, I don't think it gets as much credit as it deserves. It has some damn funny episodes and great characters, and it did a lot of the popular sitcom tropes before they were 'cool'. Some other great sitcoms, The Middle in particular, took a lot of influence from this show and it helped pave the way for the future of sitcoms at a time when they were about to make a comeback. If you want a good show about the real experiences of growing up, this is a much more accurate representation of the highs and lows of being an awkward tween from a dysfunctional home.

19. A Series Of Unfortunate Events (2017-2019)

Unlike most people I actually liked the movie version from the early 2000's, and I read the books growing up so I was excited when I saw there was a live action television adaptation of it on Netflix because I felt like they cancelled the movie franchise too soon. I was interested to see how new actors would handle the roles, and I was not disappointed. I wouldn't say I liked either portrayal of the characters better or worse, they both added their own twist to it and this show is a great and loyal adaptation to the books, probably because the author was so heavily involved. He knew just when to stick to the books and when to improve upon what he had done with the benefit of hindsight. This show is basically the books, but remastered.

20. Winx Club (2004-?)

Sort of an odd one out on this list, but I really love this show even as an adult and it may surprise you to learn it is still going on and the most recent season came out last year. They take big breaks sometimes in between seasons, but it's still going strong and in multiple countries. The only thing I don't like about watching this show is all the different and inconsistent dubs since the original show is Italian and each dub only goes for a couple seasons so by the time you get used to one set of voices/names for the characters oyu have to abruptly switch to another, but it's still worth it for the beautiful animation and cool characters (especially the villains!)

Honorable Mentions:

13 Reasons Why, America's Next Top Model, American Horror Story, Arrested Development, Bates Motel, Battlestar Galactica, Black Mirror, Care Bears, Chernobyl, Courage The Cowardly Dog, Criminal, CSI, Duck Dodgers, Goosebumps, Kenny Vs. Spenny, Kim Possible, Kingdom Hospital, Lazytown, Lost, Making A Murderer, Mayday, Mindhunter, Modern Family, Monster High, Obsession: Dark Desires, Parks And Recreation, Prison Break, Project Runway, Queer As Folk, Queer Eye, Salem, Schitt's Creek, SCTV, Spongebob Squarepants, The Emperor's New School, The Good Doctor, The Haunting Of Hill House/Bly Manor, The Middle, The Pretender, The Walking Dead, The X-Files, Through The Wormhole, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Unsolved Mysteries, Yugioh

Tagging: @bullet-farmer and anyone else who wants to!

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listentothelittlebird · 3 years

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I was looking through some drafts and I found this - I think it’s my first attempt at writing Burning Iceberg. Here, Damian tagged along with Jason when he went off for training!

Word Count: 2942 words

enjoy!

It’s Talia who sends him away.

“Training,” she says, but there is something in the way that she moves, the way that the base is silent and waiting with bated breath right up until they leave.

Jason leaves alone. Talia watches him go, her posture too unnaturally relaxed for anything not to be amiss.

He gets one day away from the base before he realises he has a tail.

“Damian?”

The young boy scuffles out of the shadows with a haughty sniff. “Took you long enough to notice me, Todd,” he huffs. Given the boy’s night clothing - the one’s he wore to sleep - Jason guessed that he had just arrived.

“Why’re you here?” Jason asks, curious. Sure, he had talked to the kid, had trained with the kid, but why was he here?

Damian glanced at Jason, then glanced away. “You were going alone,” he declared stiffly, “I would think that you would prefer company.”

“Mother agreed, and sent me after you,” Damian added, not at all convincing. Talia would never allow Damian out of her sights, especially with the tension in the air back at the base. Something was definitely up, but Jason let it slide and gestured for Damian to come closer. “You hungry, kid? I’ve got enough food for both of us until the next village.”

He knows that Talia might come after him. There’s no way he would let Damian disappear, just like that. For the moment, however, Jason could care less.

He had never asked for a big brother, and he had never asked for a little brother, but he was definitely willing to risk his life for the eight-year-old beside him.

“Where are we going?” Damian asks, quietly. They’re stowed away on a cargo ship headed for the South Pole.

“I want to find a bender,” Jason replies, “The North pole is more connected to the world, and there’s more people to worry about. I’d think that a bender would hide in the South, where there’s less people.”

Damian scrunched up his nose. “Your skills are not adequate to face a bender, Todd.”

Jason pauses, then snorts, “I’m not gonna fight the bender, D. I just want to… talk to them.”

Damian eyes him with a skeptical look, but otherwise says nothing.

They’re riding through a brutal storm when Damian loses his grip and tumbles towards the railing.

Jason follows, one hand gripping tightly onto the metal rail and the other holding onto Damian as he flailed. For once, the kid looked genuinely terrified.

A wave crashes into them, and pulls them over.

Jason is surprised to wake up. He tried to gauge his surroundings, but nothing really added up. He was under a fur blanket, a fire crackling near him. Someone was shifting beside him.

“You’re awake,” the voice murmurs, “I thought you’d sleep longer, but it seems not.”

Jason, carefully pulled himself up, narrowing his eyes as he gazed around the igloo. It was sparse, but large enough to fit him, the new man, and-

“Dami,” Jason breathed, headless of the man’s presence as he jerked out of the furs and toward

his brother’s still form. He pressed two fingers to the boy’s neck, and his heart only calmed when he could feel the steady thrumming for a full minute.

“You’re welcome,” came the dry remark. Right. Jason turned back to the man, assessing him silently. He wore a blue parka, and was currently wearing the hood low over his face.

“The two of you washed ashore last night,” the man explained, without prompting, “Your friend was barely breathing, but he made it through. You were surprisingly fine once the threat of frostbite was removed.”

Jason glanced again at Damian.

“Thank you,” Jason stated, before his voice hardened, “But can we trust you?”

The man sighed. “Figures that two kids running around in the Antarctic wouldn’t trust a stranger,” he mused to himself. His amused smile was the only thing that Jason could see, the fire and the shadows obscuring the rest.

“We are a long distance from the nearest village, but I can take you there. I can send the two of you on your way the moment that your friend feels better.”

“You know that you’re safe here, right?” Jason stated quietly. Anuk had left them in the igloo and went hunting by himself. He claimed that he worked better alone.

Damian looked up from where he was curled up in a corner of the igloo, his back pressed tightly against the icy wall. He wrinkled his nose, but there was still apprehension in his eyes. Jason sighed.

“Look, if this guy meant bad, he’d have done something already,” Jason reasoned, spreading his hands along the icy ground. He was glad that his resistance to low temperatures had survived the pit, even if his bending had not.

“Your trust will get you killed,” Damian murmured. Jason winced, “Yeah, well, it kinda already did. But that’s besides the point,” Jason rushed to add, “Just- trust is dangerous, sure, but can you really live your life without trusting anyone?”

Damian was silent. Jason, taking a dive, spoke up, “Do you trust me?”

Damian jerked his head up, staring at him with wide eyes. Then, quietly, “Yes.”

Jason nodded, and pressed, “Talia? Ra’s?”

Damian hesitated. Jason moved on.

“Listen. I know you just wanted to tag along for my training, but we’ve been under the radar for at least a month.” They had arrived on a full moon, and that night was a full moon, again.

“Even Talia would have to admit to Ra’s that she thought we were dead somewhere in the Antarctic. Firebenders hate the two poles - they won’t be sending a search party for us, much less coming to find us themselves. You don’t have to go back to them.”

This time, Damian glared. “Where else would I go, Todd?” he spat, and Jason realised that the kid had already thought of this, had already considered this, “Where else am I supposed to go, if I do not return to my home?”

Jason pursed his lips, and despite the green raging inside him…

“Bruce would take you in,” Jason admitted, shoving the green away, “I can’t say the same for myself, not when I’m done with him, but… you. You’re his kid. He’d definitely take you in.”

Jason grinned, “He’d love you. Hell, he already took in the Replacement, what’s one more?”

Damian shifted. “Why won’t he take you in?” he questioned.

Jason stilled. “It’s not-” Jason started and stopped, and shook his head. The Joker was still alive. He had adopted a new kid. He wasn’t needed, hell, he wasn’t wanted. He really had just been a charity case. He breathed, trying to push the green down.

“It’s complicated. I don’t know if I can forgive Bruce, and I don’t know if I can stare at him without wanting to put a knife to his neck.”

That was what scared him the most. That he would lose control. He hated Bruce right now, hated him for what he had done, what he had not done, but his nightmare was his vision going green and fading to a Batman bleeding out from a knife in his grip.

Damian looked confused, so Jason tried to explain. “Bruce is… not a perfect man,” Jason sighed, “But he’s all Gotham has. And the Robins - what he does for them, that’s good. Even if-” Even if it gave him false hope for a rescue that never came. He swallowed that down.

“For all of his faults, he did give me some of the best memories.” Not that he remembered many of them. The pit took that away, too. “I hate him, but I loved him, too.”

“You’re ready.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at Anuk. “Ready for?”

“The full moon,” Anuk explained, not really explaining at all. He pointed towards the sky. “Tonight should be a full moon. We’ll set out onto the ocean at midnight, and you can perform the traditional water-bending stances for Tui and La. If nothing else, it is a tradition that I practice, and as my student, I want you to practice it as well.”

Jason sighed, but went along with it. He still had no bending - sometimes he thought that the water would move just so, but most of the time, there was nothing. He diligently learnt all of the water-bending moves, but Anuk was probably lying when he said that he was “ready”. How do you tell if someone knows their stuff if they don’t even bend?

The night was quiet. Serene, silent in the way that Gotham never was. The League had been silent, too, but not in this way. There was tension in the air, in League bases, sounds controlled and quenched before they could travel. Here, there were only expanses of snow and ice to echo back each scrunch of their boots.

Anuk bended a gondola made of ice, and Jason hopped on, not willing to show his own hesitation. Anuk waved his arms and the gondola moved out onto the calm Antarctic sea.

“According to my Gramps, we used to have big ceremonies on full moons,” Anuk started conversationally, filling the cold silence with soft murmurs. Jason realised belatedly that they should have brought a lamp, or at least a torchlight, but it seemed like Anuk knew where he was going, even in the dim moonlight.

“I live in the South pole, but my Gramps hailed from the North. He says that the late princess Yue gave her life to keep the moon spirit, Tui, alive. The Northern water-benders would present their bending on full moons to pay homage to Yue and her sacrifice.”

The gondola slowed to a stop, and they were left bobbing softly on near-silent waves. Anuk stretched his arms out and pulled, and a square platform of ice froze before them. Anuk stepped back and looked towards Jason expectantly.

Jason had grown used to the icy tundra, enough so that he did not immediately slip off the icy block when he hopped out of the gondola. He took his place at the centre of the ice block, glanced up at the moon, and started to run through his bending forms.

Nothing happened at first. Jason felt kind of stupid, actually, bending without bending at all. He nearly slipped a few times, but he managed to keep his balance, and powered through the basic forms into the more advanced attacks.

Then, something shifted.

“Jason,” the wind whispered, and Jason stumbled. His foot slipped, and he ended up on all four as the ice block rocked, waves pushing over the sides and washing over his hands and knees. The voice sounded like Bruce.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” came again, and it really did sound like Bruce. Jason blinked into the moonlit ice and nearly gasped.

It was a bird’s-eye view of the Batcave. He would know that cavern anywhere. Batman was stooped down beside a glass casing, positioned at the centre of the cave.

The vision zoomed in. The casing had a blood-stained Robin uniform, burned and tattered, way too destroyed to be repairable. Jason realised it was his suit. The one he had died in.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” Bruce was saying, and Jason could only watch as Bruce absolutely bawled his eyes out in front of the casing, still wearing his batsuit, only having pulled the cowl down.

Just when the sobs died down, Jason heard, “I left Joker in the helicopter. I knew it was going to crash, but I- I thought he didn’t deserve to live,” Bruce admitted quietly. Jason’s breath hitched.

“He survived. Of course he did. If I keep going after him, he’ll just keep surviving, and… I have to stop, before I can’t. Before I lose myself in a world that took you. I’m sorry,” he choked out, and the tears continued to flow.

The scene changed.

“Why?” Dick’s voice screamed, raw and so full of emotion that it jarred Jason to the bones. “Why did you let him live?”

“We can’t be the dictators of who lives and who dies,” Bruce started, but Dick cut him off. “This is the Joker we’re talking about, B!” Dick yelled, somehow louder than the previous shout, “Joker doesn’t care who lives and who dies! He definitely didn’t care when he-” Dick cut himself off with a sharp exhale.

Bruce waited as Dick took measured breaths. “I just don’t get it,” Dick whispered, “A man like him? B, why did you save him?”

Silence.

“We fight for justice,” Bruce rumbled, steadfast and sure compared to the crying mess in the last vision. Confident, like he had worked through his thoughts and come to a conclusion. “We can’t just kill people as we see fit. Not even if we hold a personal grudge. Not even if we want revenge for our own.”

They both glanced towards the casing.

“I still want to kill him,” Dick stated bluntly. Jason thought Bruce would reaffirm his rules, that he would cook up a convincing argument and strike down Dick’s motives.

Instead, Bruce only answered with, “Sit on it for a few days. Don’t make an impulsive decision you’ll regret.”

Dick sighed harshly, and left the viewing range of the vision. Bruce turned back to the casing.

“I never got to apologise to you,” Bruce murmured, “For accusing you of pushing Garzonasa.”

“I was worried for you. Nobody should have to live with the guilt of taking someone’s life. I’m sorry if I came off as distrustful. I should have done more. Been better.”

One last scene. A young kid, black hair and blue eyes, looking up at the casing, fiddling with a new Robin suit that Jason had only seen through grainy newspaper prints.

“You were my hero,” the boy said, and checked his empty surroundings before he continued, “You were… awesome. You had so much energy and spunk, and-” he huffed, a small smile on his face, “-much more fire than me. Which is ironic, to say the least.”

Jason watched as the kid produced a photo from his gauntlet. It was a photo of Jason and Nightwing, on the rooftops, laughing and joking around.

“I always wanted to be your friend,” he admitted, “I never wanted to replace you. I just knew that Batman needed a partner, and I guess nobody else was gonna do it, so. Here I am.”

The photo slipped back under his cape. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be like you, but I’m trying. I… I know I shouldn’t miss you, because technically I never knew you, but. I do.”

Timothy Drake looked up at the suit for a long minute, before turning and pressing his domino mask across his eyes. “I’ll do my best to make you proud,” he whispered to the air.

The vision disappeared with the pull of the tide. Jason was suddenly aware of the ice block he was still on, as it tipped against the slightly-larger wave. A combination of water and ice made him slide right off the block’s edge.

Anuk’s yell was drowned out by the freezing water rushing to meet him. It was the very opposite of being dipped into the Lazarus pit. The water was a dark blue, and he could still see the moonlight piercing through the water’s surface. The light bent above him, and he blinked, because it almost looked like a face. A young woman, with long white hair flowing around her serene smile.

The light pulsed, and suddenly he could feel the water around him, moving and flowing, pulsating with its own energy. He could feel the water turning and churning around Anuk’s gondola as he steered towards him. He spread out his arms and pushed-

-and shot out of the water, landing with a slight stumble back on Anuk’s gondola. The boat rocked slightly, but Jason smoothed his palms downwards and the rippling waves ceased.

“Tui and La,” Anuk cursed to himself, “You were under there for quite a- oh.”

Jason tilted his head. “Oh?” he prompted, still reeling from how alive he felt. He was surrounded by his element, and he almost wanted to dive back under just to soak in his renewed bending.

Anuk produced an ice mirror, angling it to catch the moonlight. It was hard to make out, but there was definitely a patch of hair that was no longer black, dangling right in front of his eyes.

His eyes were blue, like the colour he was born with.

“Yue’s blessing,” Anuk breathed. “What?” Jason questioned, looking up from where he was scrutinising his new hairstyle. Anuk had his head tilted reverently towards the moon.

“Princess Yue lived because Tui gave her life,” Anuk recounted, “Her hair was a stark white because of this. When Tui’s mortal form was killed, Yue gave back her lifeforce to revive Tui.” Anuk chuckled, “It’s why most people from the poles don’t bother dyeing their hair.”

Jason himself eyed the moon contemplatively. He closed his eyes, and realised with a start that the green was gone. The pit’s effects - the murderous rage, the unnaturally-green eyes, the blockage of his bending - they were gone.

Anuk had taught him a traditional bow used to start and end water-bending fights, a sign of respect for the opponent. Jason bowed towards the moon, and hoped he was doing it right.

“Thank you,” he breathed quietly, “Yue, Tui, whatever you prefer to be called. Thank you.”

The moon shone on the ocean, and he swore he could see Yue’s face once more, smiling.

#Gotham's White Lotus #I think I did the weird present tense turned past tense thing again #ew #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #fanfic #I honestly forgot I wrote this but man it's neat #crossover #moon spirit yue #I got 100 followers recently which is cool #I'm honestly just vibing so it's nice people seem to like my stuff

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faintingheroine · 3 years

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Wuthering Heights Reread - Chapter 2

And here is Chapter 2, the funniest chapter of Wuthering Heights. I really chuckled a couple of times in this reread.

“Yesterday afternoon set in misty and cold. I had half a mind to spend it by my study fire, instead of wading through heath and mud to Wuthering Heights.”

Good idea Lockwood. I wish that you had stuck with this decision.

In these first lines of the chapter the conflict of the chapter is pretty much laid out, Lockwood unwisely going to Wuthering Heights and being trapped there because of the snowstorm.

“On coming up from dinner, however, (N.B.—I dine between twelve and one o’clock; the housekeeper, a matronly lady, taken as a fixture along with the house, could not, or would not, comprehend my request that I might be served at five)—“

Here is our first introduction to Nelly’s character. The critic James Hafley who came up with the villainous Nelly theory pointed to this first introduction as an evidence that Nelly is supposed to be a negatively portrayed character. Personally I think that it is instead revealing of how Lockwood views Nelly and the culture clash between them. Lockwood views Nelly as “a fixture”, almost as an item in the house. Lockwood’s patronizing and classist perception of Nelly will be present throughout their interactions.

The culture clash is also interesting. Nelly is someone who believes that you must have done half of your day’s work before ten in the morning and therefore she believes that lunch should be eaten in the afternoon, whereas Lockwood is a young urbanite who lives a life of idleness and wakes up late. It is fitting that this is our first introduction to their relationship since this discussion about when to go to bed will be featured later in the novel. This difference between their attitudes is not just about class but also about the general culture of the place. The inhabitants of the Heights go to bed at nine and wake up at four in the morning according to Heathcliff. These are practical, no-nonsense people despite all their other emotional turmoil and they can’t understand Lockwood’s decision to visit the Heights during a snowstorm, this is definitely a factor in the clash between them and Lockwood throughout the chapter.

Nelly is described as a “matronly lady”; Lockwood likes categorizing people, especially women, into different archetypes as will later be shown in the chapter.

“On that bleak hill-top the earth was hard with a black frost, and the air made me shiver through every limb. Being unable to remove the chain, I jumped over, and, running up the flagged causeway bordered with straggling gooseberry-bushes, knocked vainly for admittance, till my knuckles tingled and the dogs howled.”

Joseph’s gooseberry bushes make their first appearance. In Lockwood’s second coming to the region in late 1802 the door of Wuthering Heights will be unbarred and Cathy and Hareton will have cleared the ground from some of the gooseberry bushes intending to replace them with plants from the Grange, indicating the difference that took place between Lockwood’s visits to the region.

“The snow began to drive thickly. I seized the handle to essay another trial; when a young man without coat, and shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and, after marching through a wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed, pump, and pigeon-cot, we at length arrived in the huge, warm, cheerful apartment where I was formerly received. It glowed delightfully in the radiance of an immense fire, compounded of coal, peat, and wood; and near the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe the ‘missis’, an individual whose existence I had never previously suspected.”

Our first introduction to Hareton immediately highlights his status as a worker in the farm and his seemingly lower status. He brings Lockwood to the house through another gate that presumably farm workers were supposed to use rather than a genteel visitor like Lockwood. We also get our first introduction to Cathy in this same paragraph which is fitting.

The description of the Heights is rather cozy, this isn’t a Gothic castle but rather a comfortable domestic setting. What makes it Gothic is the people and the happenings, not so much the actual place.

“She never opened her mouth. I stared—she stared also: at any rate, she kept her eyes on me in a cool, regardless manner, exceedingly embarrassing and disagreeable.

‘Sit down,’ said the young man, gruffly. ‘He’ll be in soon.’

I obeyed; and hemmed, and called the villain Juno, who deigned, at this second interview, to move the extreme tip of her tail, in token of owning my acquaintance.”

Cathy defiantly gazes back at Lockwood without a hint of feminine shyness or even any sort of friendliness. This is indicative of her defiant personality. No matter how dire her circumstances are her will to stand her ground and not obey others is strong, which, despite her rudeness and depressive spirit, is admirable.

The “ruffianly bitch” is revealed to be named Juno, which is fitting considering her swarm of squealing puppies.

“‘A beautiful animal!’ I commenced again. ‘Do you intend parting with the little ones, madam?’

‘They are not mine,’ said the amiable hostess, more repellingly than Heathcliff himself could have replied.”

Here we have yet another indication of Cathy’s unhappy state and an indication that she does not exactly function as the mistress of the house, the dogs are not hers.

“‘Ah, your favourites are among these?’ I continued, turning to an obscure cushion full of something like cats.

‘A strange choice of favourites!’ she observed scornfully.

Unluckily, it was a heap of dead rabbits.”

Needless to say, I really like this passage. It is the perfect example of the dark humor of Wuthering Heights. It is also the most concise illustration of the failure of Lockwood and by extension the reader trying to impose their preconceived notions of the world and fiction on Wuthering Heights. (People who were disappointed by the book not being a romance were probably expecting something like cats). It is also a good example of the aforementioned culture clash between Lockwood and the inhabitants of these houses, these dead rabbits are probably for farm work whereas Lockwood comes from the urban world where animals only exist to be pets or as a means of transportation. (Though admittedly Lockwood will later come to Yorkshire to “devastate the moors”, but knowing Lockwood this is also probably a passing interest and he does not know that much about hunting).

“Her position before was sheltered from the light; now, I had a distinct view of her whole figure and countenance. She was slender, and apparently scarcely past girlhood: an admirable form, and the most exquisite little face that I have ever had the pleasure of beholding; small features, very fair; flaxen ringlets, or rather golden, hanging loose on her delicate neck; and eyes, had they been agreeable in expression, that would have been irresistible: fortunately for my susceptible heart, the only sentiment they evinced hovered between scorn and a kind of desperation, singularly unnatural to be detected there. The canisters were almost out of her reach; I made a motion to aid her; she turned upon me as a miser might turn if any one attempted to assist him in counting his gold.”

Unlike her mother who is scarcely described in the text, Cathy is described in admiring detail by Lockwood. It is quite male gazey.

Cathy Linton is the character who is most frequently described as beautiful and this might be a factor in how healthy she comes off, both mentally and physically, and how positive a character she is. These things are explained in more detail here and here.

Lockwood’s description of her eyes foreshadows how important a role those eyes will play in the narrative later and brings to my mind Isabella’s comment to Heathcliff about how Hindley and Catherine have the same eyes: “Hindley has exactly her eyes, if you had not tried to gouge them out, and made them black and red; and her—”

Cathy not wanting Lockwood’s help shows how distrusting she is of everyone in this period of her life (and can we really blame her?) and how she tries to be strong on her own. This makes how she later retains her strength via her comradery with Hareton all the more moving.

“‘Were you asked to tea?’ she demanded, tying an apron over her neat black frock, and standing with a spoonful of the leaf poised over the pot.

‘I shall be glad to have a cup,’ I answered.

‘Were you asked?’ she repeated.

‘No,’ I said, half smiling. ‘You are the proper person to ask me.’

She flung the tea back, spoon and all, and resumed her chair in a pet; her forehead corrugated, and her red under-lip pushed out, like a child’s ready to cry.”

This shows how little authority Cathy has in the Heights. It also shows how unwilling she is to do anything that she doesn’t absolutely have to. “Her neat black frock” is a clue to her being recently widowed, of course Lockwood doesn’t put two and two together.

The description of her childish expression brings to mind how she is still a teenager and quite young, of course she is moody and rude after such an awful experience and under such dire circumstances.

“Meanwhile, the young man had slung on to his person a decidedly shabby upper garment, and, erecting himself before the blaze, looked down on me from the corner of his eyes, for all the world as if there were some mortal feud unavenged between us.”

I think this is Hareton being jealous of another man having the attention of Cathy.

“I began to doubt whether he were a servant or not: his dress and speech were both rude, entirely devoid of the superiority observable in Mr. and Mrs. Heathcliff; his thick brown curls were rough and uncultivated, his whiskers encroached bearishly over his cheeks, and his hands were embrowned like those of a common labourer: still his bearing was free, almost haughty, and he showed none of a domestic’s assiduity in attending on the lady of the house.”

Hareton’s ambiguous class position is another classic foreshadowing of the revenge plot to come and was probably a sign of how something went really wrong here to the book’s original Victorian readers who believed in clear-cut class binaries.

“Are you going to mak’ the tea?’ demanded he of the shabby coat, shifting his ferocious gaze from me to the young lady.

‘Is he to have any?’ she asked, appealing to Heathcliff.

‘Get it ready, will you?’ was the answer, uttered so savagely that I started. The tone in which the words were said revealed a genuine bad nature. I no longer felt inclined to call Heathcliff a capital fellow.”

Hareton seems to be angry at Cathy as well. This is the first important sign that Heathcliff might be a generally “bad” person, not just a bit misanthropic and sarcastic.

“When the preparations were finished, he invited me with ‘Now, sir, bring forward your chair.’ And we all, including the rustic youth, drew round the table: an austere silence prevailing while we discussed our meal.

I have always found it interesting how Heathcliff sat at the same table with Cathy and Hareton, as @dahlia-coccinea also pointed out in their post on Chapter 2. Cathy and Hareton are not complete Cinderellas. In some twisted way Heathcliff does see them as family. In a way his revenge is making them his family, more than making them into servants.

“‘It is strange,’ I began, in the interval of swallowing one cup of tea and receiving another ‘it is strange how custom can mould our tastes and ideas: many could not imagine the existence of happiness in a life of such complete exile from the world as you spend, Mr. Heathcliff; yet, I’ll venture to say, that, surrounded by your family, and with your amiable lady as the presiding genius over your home and heart—’”

As several critics pointed out over the years, in this passage Lockwood is trying to fit Cathy into the archetype of the “angel in the house” (which is especially ironic after Cathy offended him with her rudeness) and is trying to make sense of this strange family circle through his own cliched ideas about domestic bliss. This rather admiring description of marriage and family also belies Lockwood’s assertion in Chapter 1 about how misanthropic he is.

‘“My amiable lady!’ he interrupted, with an almost diabolical sneer on his face. ‘Where is she—my amiable lady?’”

I love Heathcliff. This exchange is one of my favorite parts of the book.

“‘Mrs. Heathcliff, your wife, I mean.’

‘Well, yes—oh, you would intimate that her spirit has taken the post of ministering angel, and guards the fortunes of Wuthering Heights, even when her body is gone. Is that it?’

This is ironic since Mrs. Heathcliff that is referred to here was Isabella but Heathcliff does indeed desire to be haunted by the spirit of another woman.

Notice how Heathcliff parodies Lockwood’s sentimental language. His entire revenge is partially parodying the actions of the people who hurt him.

“Then it flashed on me— ‘The clown at my elbow, who is drinking his tea out of a basin and eating his broad with unwashed hands, may be her husband: Heathcliff junior, of course. Here is the consequence of being buried alive: she has thrown herself away upon that boor from sheer ignorance that better individuals existed! A sad pity—I must beware how I cause her to regret her choice.’ The last reflection may seem conceited; it was not. My neighbour struck me as bordering on repulsive; I knew, through experience, that I was tolerably attractive.”

So, living here is being buried alive according to Lockwood. Much misanthropy.

The last sentence is just hilarious. He would sound much less conceited if he didn’t need to clarify himself. People who think that Wuthering Heights is devoid of humor or that Emily Bronte was incapable of getting the subtleties of human interactions clearly forgot about this chapter.

“‘Ah, certainly—I see now: you are the favoured possessor of the beneficent fairy,’ I remarked, turning to my neighbour.

This was worse than before: the youth grew crimson, and clenched his fist, with every appearance of a meditated assault. But he seemed to recollect himself presently, and smothered the storm in a brutal curse, muttered on my behalf: which, however, I took care not to notice.”

“Beneficent fairy” lol.

Hareton being so offended at the thought of being married to Cathy is clearly an early sign that they will end up together. He would care less if he were indifferent.

“‘Unhappy in your conjectures, sir,’ observed my host; ‘we neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy; her mate is dead. I said she was my daughter-in-law: therefore, she must have married my son.’

‘And this young man is—’

‘Not my son, assuredly.’

Heathcliff smiled again, as if it were rather too bold a jest to attribute the paternity of that bear to him.”

“We neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy” I love Heathcliff.

Heathcliff doesn’t take pride in ignorance or brutishness, he sees Hareton’s ignorance and brutishness as things to be ashamed of and is proud of himself for bringing his enemy’s son so low. He does love Hareton on some level, but he wouldn’t want to be mistaken for his father. He doesn’t think that ignorance and brutishness are good traits and he doesn’t want to to be associated with these traits, contrary to popular belief.

“‘My name is Hareton Earnshaw,’ growled the other; ‘and I’d counsel you to respect it!’

‘I’ve shown no disrespect,’ was my reply, laughing internally at the dignity with which he announced himself.”

Lockwood doesn’t seem to remember having read Hareton’s name on the door, perhaps because he didn’t enter through that door this time.

“ The dismal spiritual atmosphere overcame, and more than neutralised, the glowing physical comforts round me; and I resolved to be cautious how I ventured under those rafters a third time.”

Wuthering Heights has “glowing physical comforts”, it is the spiritual atmosphere that makes it a bleak place, not necessarily its physical presence.

“A sorrowful sight I saw: dark night coming down prematurely, and sky and hills mingled in one bitter whirl of wind and suffocating snow.”

A very good and concise description of the situation. Wuthering Heights is really good at setting the atmosphere through brief natural descriptions.

“There was no reply to my question; and on looking round I saw only Joseph bringing in a pail of porridge for the dogs, and Mrs. Heathcliff leaning over the fire, diverting herself with burning a bundle of matches which had fallen from the chimney-piece as she restored the tea-canister to its place.”

Our first porridge!

I like the little details of daily life here. Wuthering Heights is remembered for its dramatic and explosive scenes, but it is also good at conveying character through little details like these.

To my surprise I have found that I could get into these characters in this reread independently of my knowledge of the later happenings in the novel, despite me knowing the novel so well. The misanthropic grumpy landlord, moody teenage girl, the ridiculously delusional tenant, rude young man of uncertain class status, religious old servant... These characters are well-drawn and interesting independently of their backstory that we will later learn about, a novel that is more of this chapter could also be fun and interesting.

“The former, when he had deposited his burden, took a critical survey of the room, and in cracked tones grated out ‘Aw wonder how yah can faishion to stand thear i’ idleness un war, when all on ’ems goan out! Bud yah’re a nowt, and it’s no use talking—yah’ll niver mend o’yer ill ways, but goa raight to t’ divil, like yer mother afore ye!’”

The first mention of Cathy’s mother.

“‘You scandalous old hypocrite!’ she replied. ‘Are you not afraid of being carried away bodily, whenever you mention the devil’s name? I warn you to refrain from provoking me, or I’ll ask your abduction as a special favour! Stop! look here, Joseph,’ she continued, taking a long, dark book from a shelf; ‘I’ll show you how far I’ve progressed in the Black Art: I shall soon be competent to make a clear house of it. The red cow didn’t die by chance; and your rheumatism can hardly be reckoned among providential visitations!’”

Cathy derives her power from her clever words and her love of books.

“Mrs. Heathcliff,’ I said earnestly, ‘you must excuse me for troubling you. I presume, because, with that face, I’m sure you cannot help being good-hearted.”

The belief that Cathy must be good because she is beautiful is related to physiognomy. It is interesting that Emily Bronte has Lockwood say this since Lockwood’s assertions about women tend to be obviously ridiculous, yet she seems to make use of physiognomy in her characterizations. She is probably making fun of physiognomy as something to believe in real life but makes use of it to characterize her characters.

“‘How so? I cannot escort you. They wouldn’t let me go to the end of the garden wall.’”

Cathy is literally trapped at the Heights.

“‘As to staying here, I don’t keep accommodations for visitors: you must share a bed with Hareton or Joseph, if you do.’

‘I can sleep on a chair in this room,’ I replied.

‘No, no! A stranger is a stranger, be he rich or poor: it will not suit me to permit any one the range of the place while I am off guard!’ said the unmannerly wretch.”

Heathcliff has really become a miserly and grumpy man which again runs completely counter to the popular perception of him.

His completely reasonable assertion that Lockwood can spend a night sharing a room with Joseph or Hareton is forgotten by Lockwood because of his rudeness.

“At first the young man appeared about to befriend me.

‘I’ll go with him as far as the park,’ he said.”

‘You’ll go with him to hell!’ exclaimed his master, or whatever relation he bore. ‘And who is to look after the horses, eh?’

‘A man’s life is of more consequence than one evening’s neglect of the horses: somebody must go,’ murmured Mrs. Heathcliff, more kindly than I expected.

‘Not at your command!’ retorted Hareton. ‘If you set store on him, you’d better be quiet.’

‘Then I hope his ghost will haunt you; and I hope Mr. Heathcliff will never get another tenant till the Grange is a ruin,’ she answered, sharply.”

A sign of Hareton’s goodness and conscience and a sign of Cathy’s goodness as well.

Hareton is jealous of Cathy’s concern for another man. (@dahlia-coccinea also pointed this out in their post.)

Cathy and Hareton’s bickering is an early clue to them ending up together, which is why I am always surprised when people say that their relationship came out of nowhere. Like it or not, in fiction when a young man and a young woman share a quotidian and irrelevant enmity or a spar of words this is usually a sign that they will end up together. Yes it is not the least toxic of tropes and went out of fashion in the last few years, but this is the way it usually goes in fiction.

“He sat within earshot, milking the cows by the light of a lantern, which I seized unceremoniously, and, calling out that I would send it back on the morrow, rushed to the nearest postern.”

I like the little details of the farm life that are going on in the background like Joseph milking the cows. Bronte never lets us forget that this is a working farm where things are getting done and she always retains the vraisemblance of her setting.

“I ordered the miscreants to let me out—on their peril to keep me one minute longer—with several incoherent threats of retaliation that, in their indefinite depth of virulency, smacked of King Lear.”

The famous reference to King Lear. It is a rather humorous reference, referring to Lockwood’s threats being moot, which is what I have been feeling throughout the chapter whenever Lockwood mentions that he is on the verge of beating up someone.

“I don’t know what would have concluded the scene, had there not been one person at hand rather more rational than myself, and more benevolent than my entertainer. This was Zillah, the stout housewife; who at length issued forth to inquire into the nature of the uproar. She thought that some of them had been laying violent hands on me; and, not daring to attack her master, she turned her vocal artillery against the younger scoundrel.”

Zillah is positioned as Lockwood’s benevolent savior so far in the narrative, but her hesitation in going against her master is a clue to her pragmatic nature.

“‘Well, Mr. Earnshaw,’ she cried, ‘I wonder what you’ll have agait next? Are we going to murder folk on our very door-stones? I see this house will never do for me—look at t’ poor lad, he’s fair choking! Wisht, wisht; you mun’n’t go on so. Come in, and I’ll cure that: there now, hold ye still.’”

Zillah calls Lockwood “poor lad”, I think Lockwood is supposed to be young and certainly younger than Zillah. I imagine him as someone in his mid to late twenties.

“He told Zillah to give me a glass of brandy, and then passed on to the inner room; while she condoled with me on my sorry predicament, and having obeyed his orders, whereby I was somewhat revived, ushered me to bed.”

Dun dun dunn...

@dahlia-coccinea

#wuthering heights #wh reread #wh reread 2021 #chapter 2

27 notes · View notes

detectivesofty · 3 years

Text

home is where the heart is | j.h.

Summary: the heart wants what it wants, even if it’s over 700 miles away

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: sofia by clairo

Author’s Note: this has been in the works for SO LONG, so I really hope that you like it! Reblog/like if you do! Sorry this is slightly late, I was drawing and forgot the time

Warnings: slightly spicy? mention of character death, cursing

Word Count: 4,8k

You looked out of the window as the cab driver cruised through Chicago. You just landed at O’Hare an hour ago and immediately hailed a cab to see your brother. It was hard to keep in touch with him living in Chicago and you in New York, but the two of you tried your best, especially in emergencies. Like this. The moment you heard about Anna’s death, you took the next flight out, barely having packed anything. Your brother needed you.

“Thanks!” you told the driver, handing him his money and grabbing your bag before you headed up to Kelly’s loft. Unlocking the door with your key, you felt an overwhelming sadness overtaking you, accompanied by cold and silence.

“Kelly…?” you called out softly, shutting the door behind you.

“In here.”

You followed his voice to what you guessed was the bedroom and there he was, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” you said softly, dropping your bag and sitting down next to him. “I came as soon as I heard. I’m so sorry Kelly.” You wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, tears streaking his face.

For a while, you just held him, not knowing what to say. Oftentimes, grieving people didn’t want to hear empty apologies and ‘it’s going to get better’, they just needed someone to hold them.

“Thanks for coming. I know you’re really busy with work right now and I just… Thanks,” Kelly sniffed out and you held him tightly.

“Hey. No matter how much work I got, if you need me. I am here, Kels. You’re my brother.”

Kelly gave you a water smile and wiped his tears away. “Anna really would’ve liked you. I wish I had introduced you two instead of Benny.”

“Yeah, what were you thinking?” you teased and he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Tell me about her.”

You and Kelly spent the next few hours talking, catching up. He told you about Anna and you told him about your job and how you wanted to work your way up. Kelly was in the middle of telling you the story of how he and Anna set out at 2 am to get a cheeseburger from Le Chevals, when your stomach growled loudly.

“I am so sorry,” you said and Kelly laughed. “I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

He frowned at you, pulling you up. “Jesus Y/N, you need to take care of yourself. Come on, let’s go get some food.”

“But only if we get deep dish pizza!”

“I wasn’t aware that you eat anything else.”

A couple of minutes later, you were at Sal’s pizza place, waiting for your order while scrolling through your phone, when someone called your name.

“Y/N?”

Looking up, you saw Jay Halstead walking towards you with a big smile.

“Detective Halstead, fancy seeing you here,” you said with a teasing tone in your voice and he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug.

“Thought it was you. You didn’t tell me you were in town.”

Your smile dropped a bit, nodding. “Yeah, I am here for Kelly.”

“I heard. I am really sorry, Y/N,” Jay told you, squeezing your shoulder gently and you smiled at him.

“Thanks, Jay.”

The radio in Jay’s hand crackled to life and he stilled for a moment, before looking back at you. “Hey, I need to get back to the district, we’re on a case right now. But we should get a drink. How long you in town for?”

“I am not sure yet, but I will let you know,” you told him and he pointed at you.

“I will hold you to that,” he pressed a quick kiss on your cheek, before he rushed out the door, leaving you standing still on the spot, holding your cheek.

Did he just-?

“Order number 57!”

Quickly, you shook out your head and walked to the counter to pick up your order, before going outside, where headlights immediately blinded your eyes. Squinting them, you walked closer to the car and got in.

“Did you have to blind me with the headlights?” you asked your brother, buckling up as he started the drive home.

Kelly chuckled. “Do you want me to honk next time?”

“Forget it,” you snorted, shaking your head. You drove in silence for a while before you spoke up again, hesitantly. “So… I ran into Jay.”

“Oh, you did huh?” Kelly asked, a smirk on his face and you punched his shoulder.

“Shut up! I am never telling you anything ever again.”

Kelly snorted, rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t be so dramatic. Besides, you didn’t have to tell me anything. You always have the same look on your face after you’ve run into Jay.”

Jay and you had a… Complicated history, if one would put a name to it. You met two years ago, at an unofficial first responders picnic that Antonio and Gabby planned. It was just a coincidence that you were in Chicago that week and Kelly brought you along. There you had bumped into Jay and immediately took a liking to him. I mean, he was part of a highly respected police unit and basically the definition of tall, dark and handsome, what was not to like?

Jay asked you out on a date and you basically spent the rest of your time with him, but your stay in Chicago eventually came to an end. You were adults and you knew that long distance relationships were destined to fail, so you parted as friends. But every time you found your way to Chicago, you also somehow found your way back to Jay, which probably wasn’t the smartest idea.

Except for the last time you’ve seen him.

Last you’ve heard, Jay and Erin started dating and you took that as a sign from the universe, telling you that you and Jay weren’t meant to be. While it still hurt to catch his eyes across the bar during nights out with everyone, you knew this was for the best. For both of you.

Jay got to be happy with someone who doesn’t live in another city and you were forced to move on. The goodbye didn’t hurt as much that time, so you knew it was the right choice, because all the other times made you feel like you’ve left your heart in Chicago.

While it was easy to forget about Jay in New York, it was that much harder every time you visited Kelly. Back here, everything reminded you of Jay.

The park where he used to take you for picnics; the italian restaurant where you had your first date; the entrance of the hotel where he kissed you for the first time. It was like you couldn’t erase him out of your head. Sure, it helped knowing that Jay was in a happy relationship with someone else, but it still hurt. Now, you felt confident enough to start being friends with him again.

Or so you thought.

A couple of days later and Kelly was doing better. You did a lot of home cooking, like this night and then the two of you lounged on the couch with the tv running in the background when your phone rang. One look at the screen had Kelly wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Jay?”

“Hi Y/N. Can you talk?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you got up and walked to the window, holding your phone to your ear.

“Yeah, hey. I can talk. What’s up?”

“My case is over. Do you want to go grab that drink right now?”

“A drink? Right now? I don’t know Jay. I came here to take care of my brother and-” You frowned, looking at Kelly who nodded vigorously, giving you a double thumbs up.

“Go! I’ll be fine!” he whisper-yelled and you rolled your eyes at him, turning away.

“Actually, yeah. I am down. Meet me at Molly’s in ten?”

“Yep. See you in ten.”

You hung up the phone and glared at Kelly, picking up a pillow to throw it at him. He ducked with a laugh. “What? I was wingmanning you!”

“You weren’t doing shit. Stop laughing at me and call me a cab!” You grumbled, walking towards the guest bedroom. Still hearing Kelly’s laughter from the living room, you rummaged through your bag. While you were still annoyed at him for laughing at you, you were glad that he was feeling better.

But right now, you had to focus on making yourself look better. So you tamed your messy hair, picked out a nice sweater and put some make-up on. You then stumbled out of the room, while simultaneously trying to put on your boots.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Kelly called over his shoulder before you left, but you only yelled an “I love you!” back. You got in the cab that was already waiting by the curb and after a quick drive, you got out at Molly’s. Judging from the loud voices coming from inside, which only amplified when you opened the door, it was pretty full, though you immediately spotted Jay when you walked in.

He was waiting with two drinks by a corner table, raising his hand with an easy smile when he saw you. He got up from his bar stool to give you a hug and you relished being in his arms again, before you pulled away.

“It’s good to see you,” he told you, sitting down across from you. “Do you still drink vodka cranberries?” Jay asked and slid one of the glasses in front of him towards you.

You gave him a suspicious look and wrapped your hands around the cold glass. “Are you planning on getting me drunk, Jay?”

“What? I wouldn’t do that.”

Jay grinned at you and clinked his beer bottle against your glass. “So,” he said after taking a sip from his beer. “How have you been?”

“You know me. Same old, same old.”

If you were honest, being an event manager wasn’t even half as exciting as Kelly or Jay’s job, but you loved it nonetheless. And the business was booming in New York. Your agency is getting calls everyday, which is to be expected in a city that never sleeps.

“So I managed to get a deal with the brother and in the end everyone was happy,” you concluded, drinking your vodka cranberry.

“Huh. That reminded me of a hostage situation we had a couple of weeks ago.”

You cracked a laugh and shook your head at him. “Don’t be silly. Now, how have you been?” you asked, biting your lip as you paused. This was the question you dreaded to ask. To hear about how happy he was with someone else. But you wanted him to be happy. And you were an adult. So you asked.

“How’s Erin?”

“We broke up,” Jay blurted out, as if he had waited for that question. He flushed and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, we broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh. I am sorry to hear that,” you said, genuinely. You liked Erin. She was tough, smart and incredibly beautiful. She was good for Jay.

He shook his head with a small smile. “Don’t be. We parted as friends. It was better that way, trust me… What about you? Is there anyone in your life?”

“No, not really. Between work and constantly trying to get to Chicago it’s hard to find someone who can keep up with my life, you know?” You knew who that someone was, who you wanted it to be. But how realistic was that?

You and Jay were so deep into your conversation, that you didn’t even notice the bar empty out and late it had gotten, until you glanced at your watch, your eyes widening. Looking around, you saw that there were only four people left in the bar, including you and Jay.

“It’s pretty late, huh?” Jay commented and you nodded, pursing your lips.

“It is. I should go home.”

“Or,” Jay cut in, reaching out to take your hand as if he was scared you’d jump up and leave. “You could come back to my place? Maybe get a coffee?”

It was nearing one in the morning, Jay wasn’t being smooth by inviting you over for a coffee.

Jay knew he wasn’t talking about coffee.

You knew he wasn’t talking about coffee.

Hell, the homeless guy across the street knew he wasn’t talking about coffee.

And you promised yourself you wouldn’t let this happen again, because it was only going to hurt when you left. But yet-

“Yeah, a cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt.”

So the two of you more or less stumbled out of the bar and hailed a cab to Jay’s place. The drive there was laced with anticipation as you sat close to each other, talking with low voices. When you finally reached Jay’s apartment building, he tipped the cab driver generously and with an arm wrapped around your waist, Jay led you up to his apartment.

You haven’t been to this one yet, so naturally you looked around curiously after he’s unlocked the door, letting your jacket drop from your shoulders. It was painfully obvious that Jay had decorated it by himself, but it was still homey.

“So, where do you keep-” you asked, turning around to face him but Jay swiftly backed you up against the wall, caging you in with his (muscular!) arms. He was so close, you could feel his breath fanning against your cheeks and you gulped, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” he said lowly before he dipped his head down to press a searing kiss on your lips. And now you remembered why you always went back to Jay even though you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t.

The way he kissed you, touched you. It always made you feel like you’re the only girl in the world. You sighed softly against his lips and kissed him back, your arms winding around his neck. While you felt the anticipation drumming in his body by the quick beats of his heart, he didn’t show that during the kiss and instead took his sweet time reacquainting himself with your body. His hand slipped beneath your blouse, his fingers still cold from outside and you shivered, reflexively biting down on his lower lip a bit.

“Maybe a coffee wouldn’t be a bad idea right now,” you breathed out and he stilled, giving you a look.

“If you’re still thinking about coffee right now I am definitely doing something wrong.”

A smirk curled on your lips and you shrugged nonchalantly, playing with the hair in the nape of his neck. You knew you were playing with fire, but you weren’t going to back down now. Jay let out a deep chuckle, pulling his arms back.

“Guess I have to up my game, huh?” he hummed before he dropped down to his knees and from then on, coffee wasn’t on your mind once. It certainly was the next morning, though.

Pulling a face, you turned over in your bed when the sun almost blinded you, even through your closed lids. You paused when you were unable to turn over and it was then that you registered the strong hold around your waist. The thoughts in your head were whirring before last night came back to you and you silently groaned into your pillow, cursing your past self. You got weak.

You laid still, debating your options while at the same time relishing being held by Jay for the last time, because you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t get weak again. Sneaking out was off the table. Jay was a really light sleeper, due to his service in Afghanistan and you didn’t want to risk a confrontation right now. You knew your time to make a decision was over when Jay tightened his hold around your waist, groaning quietly.

“I can literally hear you thinking, Y/N,” he grumbled, his voice still raspy from sleep. “Can you maybe wait until like,” Jay lifted his head to glance at the clock, “After ten? I had an exhausting night.”

He let his head fall back on the pillow and you snorted only whacking his forehead playfully. “You’re an idiot.”

“You still love me,” Jay mused with a small smile as he glanced at you and your resolve wavered, almost wanting to give in and enjoy your time with Jay. You weren’t sure what to respond to that. At one point, you were sure that you were in love with Jay. But with the distance between New York and Chicago and his relationship with Erin, you weren’t sure where you stood with him.

Luckily, he himself saved you from having to come up with a reply when he rubbed his eyes. “We should get some food. I’ll grab us some coffee and breakfast from the cafe across the street, hm?”

“Yeah that sounds nice.”

“Awesome. You just stay in bed, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” Jay told you, getting out of bed to pull on some jeans and a sweater. He disappeared into the bathroom and you heard the toilet flushing, before the water ran.

“Are you sure?” you called out meekly, scanning the room for your clothes, which were scattered all throughout the bedroom. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Jay leaned his head out of the bathroom, the toothbrush still hanging from his lips. “No, it’s fine, I’ll be quick.” He disappeared back into the bathroom for a bit before he returned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, which left a hint of mint.

“See you in a bit!” Jay called out before you heard the front door shut behind him.

It was now or never.

Half-heartedly, you got out of the bed and started picking your clothes up, putting everything on. You felt like an asshole leaving like this, but you knew if you stayed for breakfast, you wouldn’t be strong to leave. It had to be now. Leaving the bedroom, you grabbed your jacket off of the floor and your purse, which was laid across the couch. Slipping into your shoes and turning to the door, your heart felt heavy in your chest. Rubbing your eyes, you turned the doorknob and immediately bumped into Jay.

Fuck.

“Oh hey, I forgot my wallet,” Jay laughed, looking you up and down before his smile turned into a frown, his eyebrows furrowing. “Are you… Leaving?”

Your eyes were wide and you exhaled slowly, before nodding.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” you burst out, running your hand through your hair out of frustration. “Are you expecting me to just stay with you and act like everything’s fine just to pack up my stuff and leave for New York in a couple of days?”

“I- That’s better than just fucking leaving!”

“But I am always leaving, Jay!”

Tears sprang into your eyes and his eyes widened slightly.

“I am always fucking leaving and it hurts. I can’t keep doing this over and over again.”

“Then don’t leave!” Jay exclaimed. “Why don’t you stay in Chicago? Kelly is here, all your friends are here… I’m here.”

“So you expect me to uproot my whole life in New York and move here just because I love you?”

You reeled back at your sudden confession and your hand flew to your mouth, to prevent any more to come out.

Fuck, wait. I take that back!

Jay’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he looked speechless for a moment. “... You love me?”

Your thoughts were racing and this morning has already gone all kinds of wrong. “Just… Forget it,” you sniffed, pushing past him and walking off in quick strides, trying to block out his voice as he called for you.

After you’ve successfully hailed a cab back to Kelly’s place, your brother looked up at you with a grin on his face when you slid the door open, no doubt about to fire off a dumb joke how you’ve stayed, but his face immediately droppen when he took you in.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Kelly nodded in understanding and you disappeared into the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Even though it was barely noon, you felt drained and empty as if you had a long day of work behind you. With a deep sigh, you sat down on the edge of the bed and tugged your laptop close to you, determined to do what was best for you.

A short time later, you emerged from the bedroom with your suitcase in tow, your purse slung over your shoulder. Kelly gave you a sad smile when he saw you, putting the pieces together.

“You headed out?”

You gave a short nod, your shoulders slumped. “Yeah. I hope you’re okay with that. I know I am supposed to be here for you but-”

“No buts. You being here is supposed to be good for both of us,” Kelly interrupted you, jumping over his couch to grab you by the shoulders gently. “You already helped me a lot, Y/N. If you need to go home, then I will give you a ride to the airport.”

With a small smile, you gave Kelly a tight hug, though you weren’t sure if he was right. If you were going home. Or if you were leaving it. But being back in New York felt like a fresh start. You immediately threw yourself back to work, which took your mind off of things. Due to your personal days you took, you had to catch up with a lot of clients and while it was really stressful, it was welcomed. Coming home to an empty apartment every night kept ripping open wounds though and there was only one way to change that, though you weren’t sure if you were bold enough to do it. The countless phone calls from Jay you kept denying weren’t helping either. But you weren’t ready to talk to him. Not yet.

“Hi Mrs. Porter, it’s Y/N Y/L/N. I just received a call from Mangia NYC, and they unfortunately won’t be able to cater the event,” you spoke into the phone as you exited your office, phone in your hand, “However, Bartleby & Sage are free and they are willing to do it for half the price, do you want me to book them?”

You pressed the phone closer to your ear as the noise of the traffic almost drowned Mrs. Porter on the other line and you tried your best to focus on her voice. Even though you were already off the clock, you wanted to get a hold of Mrs. Porter first, before you could relax for the night. Rummaging in your bag for your tablet as Mrs. Porter agreed to your suggested caterer, you held the phone with your shoulder, dotting down the name of the caterer into the tablet.

“Okay, that’s great. Seems like everything is taken care off now and-” you nearly stumbled over your own feet when you saw Jay leaning against a street lamp a couple of feet away from you. His hands were in the pockets of his jackets and while New York wasn’t as cold as Chicago, it was still freezing so there was a small woolen hat atop of his head.

“Ms. Y/L/N, are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you quickly said, snapping out of it and reverting your focus back to Mrs. Porter. “Uhm. My colleague will go over everything again in the morning and then they’ll get back to you. Have a nice evening, bye.”

You hung up and peered over to Jay, cautiously walking over to him. It was weird to see him here, after your last encounter ended rather badly and you’ve dodged all of his phone calls.

“Hi Jay,” you greeted him carefully, giving him a small smile.

“Hey,” he hummed, half his face hidden by his jacket. “Can we talk?”

After a short pause, you nodded. “Yeah sure, let’s go back to my place.”

The walk to your apartment was quite tense, filled with awkward fillers and smalltalk. You sighed internally when you reached your apartment building and let Jay and yourself in, leading him to your apartment on the second floor. Taking your jacket off and putting your purse to its designated spot, you turned to Jay.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Water would be great, thanks,” he replied, looking around your apartment. It was his first time here and you left him to explore to grab two water bottles from the kitchen. Returning to the living room with two water bottles, you saw that Jay was looking at a framed picture of the two of you that was standing on a dresser. You probably should’ve put that away, but you didn’t have the heart to do it.

“Here’s your water,” you said awkwardly and Jay put down the frame quickly, accepting the water bottle.

“Thanks.”

Sitting down on the couch, while fingering the label of the water bottle you glanced at him, pressing your lips together. “When did you get in?”

“Just a couple of hours ago. I had a job interview and Kelly gave me the address of your office, so I swung by afterwards,” he told you and you nodded, before pausing when you processed the information.

“You had a job interview?”

Jay nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, before he took a seat on the couch next to you. He seemed nervous and you could see that he was trying to find the right words. Your heart was racing and you tried to calm down, to no avail.

“You were right. It wasn’t fair of me to assume that it would be easy for you to just move to Chicago,” he started, lowering his gaze. “I know that it must’ve been hard always coming and leaving, especially with Kelly and all of our friends. I haven’t been thinking about your life, your home, here in New York and that was selfish of me.”

“Jay-” you started, but he shook his head, holding a hand up.

“Please just let me finish?”

Holding your breath, you nodded, so he could continue.

“I’ve just been thinking of how you left me, and Kelly and how much easier things would be for us if you’d just stay in Chicago.”

Us?

“I think I was taking you for granted and I don’t want to do that anymore. Which is why I am transferring to the NYPD.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of the sockets when you heard his words and you were speechless for a moment, not knowing where to start.

“You can’t transfer to the NYPD!” you protested. “Your life in Chicago is so good right now, you’re in the freaking Intelligence Unit, you yourself said that it was your dream job, why would you just give that up to be here with me?”

“Because you’re my future, Y/N,” Jay confessed quietly. “I love you.”

Blinking, it took you a moment to process this, before you lunged at him, hitting his chest with your fists.

“Y/N, what-?”

“I can’t believe you would do this!” you sniffed, leaning your forehead against his chest and his heart was beating just as fast as yours. “I can’t believe you’d leave Chicago for me. You love Chicago.”

Jay chuckled, wrapping his arms around after having dropped the water bottle on the couch. “I do. But I might love you a tad bit more.”

“Stop it,” you huffed, pushing at his chest. You sat up so you could level him with a glare. “I am not letting you do this. You’d regret it.”

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I am sure that I want to do it.”

“What if I told you that my firm is looking to open a branch in Chicago and my boss wants me to take one of the leading positions?”

“I- what?” Jay looked at you in surprise, his mouth agape. “You’re moving to Chicago?”

You nodded with a smile and he let out a laugh, tackling you in a hug. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you. You should’ve told me!”

“You literally told me not to talk, Jay. I didn’t have a chance to tell you.”

Jay rolled his eyes at you fondly and held you close, pressing a kiss on your head. After a while of just holding each other, with everything finally falling into place, he spoke up again.

“So you’d need to find a place to live huh?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you asking me to move in with you? You do realize we haven’t even been officially dating, right?”

“Okay, this?” Jay said, pointing between the two of you, “has been going on for the past four years and you know that.”

“Don’t be silly. Fine, I’ll think about it,” you conceded and he grinned at you, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

“That’s all I ask.”

🏷️ list: @shipshipshipau // @savvywords // @samantha-chicago

#home is where the heart is #jay halstead #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead fic #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines #chicago pd #jesse lee soffer #chicago pd imagine

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

the sex party: ii

(r18+)

shinsou hitoshi x reader

ao3

part 1 || part 2 (you’re here!)

word count: ~9k

You and Hitoshi definitely have a thing for each other, but who would've thought that a 'sex party' would produce a confession?

warnings:

COLLEGE AU! characters are explicitly aged up to college students as early 20 year olds!

not really a sex party, mutual pining, friends to lovers, confessions, reader is canonically bi, brief momo x reader, light dom/sub, spanking, references to drug use, smoking (cigarettes, salem trademarked fic thing), drinking, and smut

---------

once again, thank you to @keiqos for editing, absolute gem :’^). now read and take this nice fluff and smut!!!

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Hitoshi hailed the gang outside just before calling an Uber, vaguely explaining what happened and that you were both headed back towards campus. Denki and Jiro assured the two of you that they’d find the fucker and get him thrown out and spit on.

“What a fucker, I’m sorry that happened, (Y/N),” Jiro frowned, eyebrows creased with anger. She cracked her knuckles.

You felt your chest tighten as you smiled back reflexively, “It’s alright. I’m just glad it's over.”

Mina grabbed your shoulders, “I’m going to ruin him for ya’, (Y/N). Ruin.”

She was deadpanned about it, waving a quick goodbye before running into the party to presumably go and kick the guy’s ass. The rest of the party peers followed, leaving with a similar sentiment and a lot of anger.

Denki remained, rubbing the back of his neck, “Are y’all headed back to the house then?”

You nodded, eyeing Shinsou, “Yeah, back to your guys’ place.”

Denki’s eyebrows raised, a wicked grin coming to his face.

Hitoshi gave a half-hearted glare.

Denki continued looking smitten as all hell. He gave Hitoshi a quick hug and crushed one into you. He flitted back in the house with a lightness in his steps that showed distinctly that he was far more drunk than he was letting on.

...

Part of you had a feeling that the night was far from over.

The Uber arrived a few minutes later, smelling of cheap air freshener and stale cologne. You climbed into the back seat as far as you could go. You expected Hitoshi to take the passenger’s side, but he slid beside you, buckling himself into the middle seat.

You didn’t say anything, but you mentally thanked him.

Considering the number of weird friend boundaries (when were you going to be honest with yourself, god, just say it) that had been breached already, you let yourself fall just the slightest bit into Hitoshi’s side as the car began to move.

Hitoshi continued tapping around on his phone one-handed, all to wrap an arm around the back of your seat, half around your shoulder. You relished his heat and let the details fade away as you stared out of the car window.

At some point, Hitoshi put his phone away, stuffing into the pocket of his jeans.

“Your jacket—” You spoke up, but Hitoshi quickly and quietly shushed you, squeezing your shoulder.

“I already had Momo grab it, no big deal,” You hadn’t realized how close he was until the heat of his breath rolled over your ear. “It’s much more important to make sure you’re feeling alright.”

Why is he so nice?

You remained silent, hyper-aware of the softness of your bare thigh pressing against Hitoshi’s own. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the warmth of his breath so close to your face in such a small space.

And you wanted more.

The neon lights of the city reappeared, growing brighter as the two of you neared Hitoshi’s home. Your mind swirled and spun with revelation after revelation.

How the fuck had you not realized how much you liked Hitoshi sooner?

I mean, it was obvious, but repression really does things to a person.

The Uber finally pulled up to Hitoshi’s home. The two of you swiftly went inside, an odd silence between the two of you.

As you stepped out of your heels, Hitoshi broke it from the living room.

“What if I told you I ordered food from that one late-night diner and it’ll be here in ten minutes?” Hitoshi glanced up from his phone with a dashing smile, the kind only you got to see.

It made you want to fucking explode.

You cracked your own, standing fully and stretching your toes, “I’d say ‘thank god, and god is Hitoshi Shinso.”

“You flatter me,” He chuckled, waltzing into the living room. You followed, aware of the eerie quiet that the house carried. It was rare that Hitoshi’s home was fully uninhabited and fully soundless.

It made your thoughts seem even louder.

“Want anything? Water? I can make us some drinks if you’re still in that mood,” Hitoshi offered, already moving towards the kitchen.

It felt like you were going to burst.

“Water is okay, I’m not really feeling like drinking anymore.” You laughed softly, rubbing the back of your neck. You were desperately trying to relieve your own internal tension, but you just fucking couldn’t.

Hitoshi returned a moment later with a glass for you and a kind gaze, regarding you were the most sacred thing in the world. The glass trembled in your grip as you refused to maintain eye contact with him.

You really couldn’t handle any more of this.

“You tired? I can set up the couch for you if you wanna lie down, unless you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” Hitoshi asked, moving towards the linen closet to grab your usual sheets and blankets. Hitoshi obviously sensed your discomfort and the bastard was too nice for his own fucking good, trying to cater to your every fucking need.

He’s way too nice.

...

You made your decision in that moment.

You swallowed, tongue feeling thick in your mouth. Fear wormed its way into your gut, but you spoke through it.

“Actually, can we talk?” You hated the way how your voice trembled.

Your knees felt weak when you saw Hitoshi’s expression fall, pretty violet orbs drooping.

Both of you were well aware of what the conversation would be about.

Hitoshi stopped across the room, turning to you. His brow was furrowed with anxiety. His voice came out sticky, pushing, “I think you’ve had a long night.”

Fuck it.

Tell him.

How much longer can you keep this up anyway?

“It’s going to feel a lot longer if I’m sleeping on the couch when I want to be in your bed.”

The silence that stunned the room echoed louder than anything you had ever heard before. You stared down at your feet, ignoring the way overemotional tears began to gather in your eyes. Your vision clouded, but your mouth kept spewing.

It had to.

“Hitoshi, I like you. A lot more than friends like each other.”

More silence.

You hold back sniffles.

You’re fucking up your whole friendship.

“And I know, our flirting has always been teasing, but I think it became real for me at some point.”

More silence.

“I don’t want to fuck up our friendship. You’re my best friend, Hitoshi, and I really, really care about you. And, I don’t want to throw away our friendship over a crush, okay? I just needed to get this off my chest. We can just forget I ever said anything if that’s easier.”

Your own arms come to wrap around yourself, thumbs making idle circles in an attempt to unconsciously soothe yourself.

You could hear Hitoshi take a few steps towards you, inhaling like he was going to speak, but quickly cutting himself off.

Ouch.

A few stray tears ran tracks down your face.

Your lip wobbled as you spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, and that I teased you so much while feeling like this, I just didn’t notice—”

“(Y/N).” Hitoshi stood in front of you, low voice shocking you from your thought.

You refused to look up at him.

“H-hey, how about I just go back to my dorm? I’m sorry—” You sputtered, rubbing at your eyes as the carpet grew blurry beneath you.

You felt so fucking pathetic. Maybe it was because it took you this long to figure out your own feelings and say something about them. Maybe, it was because you were fairly certain you were capital l in Love with Hitoshi, yet you didn’t even have the guts to look at you as you confessed.

Maybe, it was all because you were so damn terrified that it was all of these possibilities making you drown in your own insecurities.

Hitoshi, diligent and mindful as ever, took note, even if you didn’t notice.

“(Y/N), look at me.” Hitoshi’s damn near commanded, but you somehow ignored him, spiraling deeper.

You couldn’t keep yourself from shaking as your voice cracked, “I’m so fucking sorry, Hitoshi. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll be better, we can—”

And then there were hands, large and soft cupping your jaw, gently forcing your gaze up.

You shook even harder, unable to avoid him any longer.

Your breath felt leached from your lungs when you finally met Hitoshi’s endlessly sweet gaze.

Hitoshi’s eyes were so fucking soft. There was this melancholic smile on his face that made alarms go off in your skull.

He’s going to reject you.

You got the wrong idea.

You sucked down another sob as you tried to lower your head, but Hitoshi’s grip only became firmer. His thumb rubbed away some of your tears as he released a soft sigh.

A moment of quiet passed between the two of you. The teasing, fleeting glances and lustful eye fucking of the earlier night were long gone. All that remained was a tense string of vulnerability that both of you were terrified of.

You were shaking so hard in his grip.

You didn’t notice, but he was shaking too, desperately trying to keep his breathing even.

You blinked up at him, just waiting for him to reject you.

(Like Hitoshi would ever do that—)

“Can I kiss you?” Oh, his voice rolled so low and deep over you, you could’ve died.

Your eyes widened, and all you could do was nod, brain sluggishly following the situation.

He shook his head, lowering his head just a bit closer to your eye level. So ardently did he refuse to look away from you.

“I need you to say it, (Y/N).” He kept himself composed but god, he was struggling.

You gulped, leaning into Hitoshi’s hands for comfort.

“Yes, please,” Your voice came out soft, breaking and needy and Hitoshi wanted every bit of it.

His face hovered in front of yours for a moment, eyes tracing your features with such reverence.

And then his lips were on yours and all of your mutually stored tension broke.

It shattered.

His lips were soft, so different from what you secretly fantasized about. You expected some sort of roughness to him, but now that you were so sinfully close, he radiated calm and sweetness that you could almost taste.

Hitoshi was so gentle with you, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you even closer.

You moved your lips against his, relishing the fact that he was there and you were there. Maybe it was fleeting, maybe he would pull away and say he just wanted to fuck and you’d have to have that conversation. But, in that moment, you just sank into Hitoshi’s touch, throwing your arms over his shoulders and tangling deft fingers into his unruly hair.

You could handle whatever future you were given. Just a morsel of Hitoshi’s soft but unbridled affections felt like more than enough.

(Little did you know how much of him you were to receive.)

Hitoshi pulled away, but hardly. He stayed so close to you, pupils blown wide as his breath fanned of your cheekbones. You so, so wanted to surge forward and drown in him, but you held yourself fast.

He surprised you by letting out his own shaking breath, all the way in his chest. Your eyes widened.

“You’re such an idiot—” Hitoshi laughed and you faltered for a moment. It must’ve shown on your face because his hands started rubbing at your sides.

He kissed you softly again. Something chaste and sweet, like a type of summer fruit that stains your lips.

He pulled away again, lips parted and scanning you.

“You have to say it.” You told him, trying to keep your voice firm, but failing.

“Say what?” He teased, peppering the side of your face with kisses.

You made a small, half-annoyed noise, pushing lightly at his choice, “You know what, Hitoshi.”

He paused, dragging you tighter to him. A hand came up to cup your neck, fingers tracing idle patterns on your pulse point.

The look he wore (so well) was one of pure tenderness that made you ache in the best possible way.

“Of course I like you.” Hitoshi kissed you again.

You were too stunned for words.

Hitoshi kept going, his own tension apparently having broken as well.

(Duh.)

“You have no fucking idea how much I adore you—” He spoke against your lips, hands digging into your sides as you pulled lightly at his hair. You both craved closeness and finally had it. “How much I’ve wanted this, you—”

You whine into his mouth, pressing into him with everything you had.

His touch felt heavenly. After so many months, years of pent up romantic and sexual tension, his hands felt like divine fire against you. Every part of you ached for more of him, as now you were finally able to express your desires.

You pulled away, just enough to lean your foreheads together. Hitoshi’s pupils were blown wide, flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, voice still small.

Hitoshi chuckled, popping a quick kiss onto your nose, “Honestly? I didn’t want you to think I was only your friend because I wanted fuck you.”

Your insides twisted.

“Do... you only want to fuck?” You asked, any movement to pull away blocked by Hitoshi’s hold on you. Your heart hammered in your chest.

You definitely wanted more than just a fuck, but you’d take what you could get.

(You wouldn’t have to.)

“Oh, no, not at all,” Hitoshi spoke matter of factly, wearing the smuggest grin. His lips went to just below the shell of your ear, “There’s plenty more that I want from you, (Y/N).”

“Hitoshi,” You nearly moaned his name as his lips brushed against your ear. “You g-gotta be careful, saying shit like that.”

“Why's that?” Hitoshi’s lips met the fragile skin of your neck and sank into him.

“You k-know why,” Your words trembled as he left trails of kisses against your neck.

All you wanted was more.

“Tell me. I love hearing your voice,” Hitoshi crooned against your neck, pressing at the small of your back so you arched into him.

His words were so damn sweet, it made you melt inside and out as a high moan dribbled from your lips.

Hitoshi nearly growled against your neck, sucking at the skin at your collar. You fisted the back of his sweater, toes curling against the carpet—

And then a soft knock echoed from the door.

You both stopped dead, freezing.

Quickly, Hitoshi straightened out, but not before pressing a loving kiss to the skin he bruised.

“Foods here.” He smiled at you as you breathed, open-mouth and near panting.

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

Hitoshi came back from the door with the food, setting it on the coffee table and falling onto the couch. You followed suit as Hitoshi took out a few takeout boxes, handing one to you.

“I got that breakfast combination you always get, I hope that’s okay,” Hitoshi passed you a fork as you nodded.

“How are you so calm right now?” You asked, turning to him and folding your legs under your body.

Hitoshi turned as well, raising an eyebrow and holding up one of his hands between the two of you.

It was shaking violently.

“Not calm, at all. Just composed,” Hitoshi broke into his own food, taking a bite. “Eat something, (Y/N).”

You couldn’t fight him on that. Despite the elated, anxious, (horny) twisting of your gut, the smell of comfort food soothed you after such an eventful night.

The two of you ate in relative silence, both in shared contemplation. It was comfortable, sounds of the city neighborhood and old house filling the space with enough ambient noise to feel natural.

You finally set down your empty box, eyes flickering to Hitoshi as he finished off his food, a bit of egg stuck to his fork.

“I was being serious earlier, you know,” You rubbed at the fabric of your dress, suddenly very aware of the way it rode so high. “About sleeping in your bed rather than the couch.”

“I figured you were,” Hitoshi replied, setting his own food down to face you. “I never said you couldn’t.”

“Let’s clear the air then, if that’s okay,” You asked, a bit uncertain.

It all felt a lot better when Hitoshi grabbed one of your hands, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. He nodded to you to keep talking.

“So, I like you. You like me.” You began.

Hitoshi nodded again, a cute smile creeping at the corners of his mouth.

“You... don’t just want to fuck?” Your words sounded unsure, but Hitoshi quickly nodded.

“I’d prefer more, but I’ll take what I can get,” Hitoshi shrugged.

You definitely felt somewhat settled and a whole lot less insecure.

If anything, you felt bold.

Very bold.

Before Hitoshi could react, you shoved Hitoshi’s shoulder into the back of the couch. Your bare legs went over either side of Hitoshi’s built thighs, squeezing as you straddled him.

You could feel the way your dress rode up, almost showing off your ass.

(Not like Hitoshi already hadn’t seen it that night—)

You stared him up and down with lowered lips, biting your lip gently.

His violet tresses were wild, roughed up from the night’s events. His cheeks were stained pink, eyes tearing over your figure.

His hands darted to your waist, rubbing his thumbs over your ribs.

“What do you want?” Hitoshi asked, finally breaking his composure with cute, breathless words.

Your trembling hands cupped his face as you leaned into him. Your ghosted your lips over his, breath mingling as you spoke, well aware of what you were doing.

“I just want you, Hitoshi. All of you. I think I have for a long time.”

That was enough for the two of you.

Hitoshi grabbed at you with a possession that made your insides turn to jelly. His lips pressing to your own, licking in your mouth with a fervor that you craved. One of his hands moved to just below your ass, squeezing the flesh with a grip that was sure to bruise. His other hand tangled into your hair, pulling you to angle your mouth just right against his own.

His actions had a fever to them, hands and lips moving in a way that pulled and pushed you perfectly. You knew from goddamn kink night, that Hitoshi was a far more dominant person, but now that you were getting a personal taste? You felt intoxicated by his demanding touch.

All you could do was grab onto the front of his sweater, kissing him with everything you had.

As Hitoshi’s hand slid up to your ass, you experimentally ground down on the growing bulge in his jeans.

He let out a broken moan, roughly grabbing your backside and moving for you to repeat the motion. You arched into the friction, keening in the back of your throat as Hitoshi nipped at your jaw.

“Fuck, Hitoshi,” You moaned, your hands trailing down his chest to tease at the hem of his sweater.

Hitoshi wasn’t one to be beat, licking a line from your collarbone to your ear, biting and kissing to his heart's content. Your hips stuttered against his own, both of you moaning in tandem. His hardened cock pressing against your practically bare sex made your head spin with potential.

You grabbed at his hips beneath his sweater, dipping just below his waistband—

Suddenly, Hitoshi pulled away from your neck, breathing hard and slow. He swallowed, grabbing your face in both of his hands and peppering slow kisses all over your face.

“You have no fucking idea—” Hitoshi kissed your roughly, squeezing at your jaw. You moaned so prettily for him as he swallowed your sounds with a groan. He pulled away, sighing deeply, “how badly I want to keep going, but—”

You finished his sentence, sighing and touching your forehead to his, “It has been a long night.”

Hitoshi made a noise of agreement, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before you pulled back, “Is that alright?”

You shook out your own breath, nodding, “Of course. I want to keep going too, but I don’t want to rush anything. Wanna make sure we’re comfy, you know?”

Hitoshi rumbled out a laugh, pulling you into a solid embrace. His nose pressed into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling into you, “You gotta stop being so sweet, (Y/N).”

You raised your eyebrow, threading your hands through his hair, feeling how he instantly relaxed into your touch, “What did I do?”

“I mean, your existence is pretty sweet. Cute too. Sexy. Hot. I could go on,” Hitoshi nipped at your neck, daring to suck gently at the weak skin. “But, I think that would just rile me up more.”

“Good point,” You gently tugged his hair to bring his face back to yours. “Your room?”

He kissed you in reply.

The shattering of tension left a gentle warmth running through you, and you couldn’t wait to see what else was to come.

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

The two of you swayed upstairs hand-in-hand.

It felt weirdly domestic, rubbing off your makeup with the cleansing wipes you had long stored at Hitoshi’s for late nights studying or drinking.

He stood next to you, brushing his teeth in a roomy tee and sweats. You still wore your party dress, rumpled and a bit too dirty for comfort. You found yourself glaring your body down, remembering the very sour event of the evening. Your skin crawled and itched.

Hitoshi caught it easily. He knew you so well.

“You wanna ‘showber?” Hitoshi’s words came out garbled through the foam in his mouth.

“That might be best, yeah,” You sighed in some form of defeat, nervously rubbing your arms for a moment. Hitoshi spit and rinsed as you finished removing the mascara from your eyes.

As you finished, Hitoshi urged you to sit on the toilet seat, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he darted from the room. You straightened up at the freely given affection, loving the way your heart pounded. He returned quickly, carrying a fluffy towel and a pile of folded clothes.

“Take your time. If you need anything, just shout, okay?” Hitoshi laid them on the counter and squatted down in front of you, taking your hands in his and squeezing.

You nodded.

It wasn’t the first time you had taken a shower at Hitoshi’s. You could only be thankful that he and Sero had good enough hygiene habits that it was fairly clean for a college house.

You felt damn near euphoric, getting to wash the sweat, fear, touches and smoke from your skin and hair. You took extra care to cleanse your body the best you could, washing everything properly and thoroughly.

(You know, just in case.)

(For the morning.)

You digress.

Warmed and feeling far more clean both mentally and physically, you toweled off and slipped into the clothes Hitoshi left. The shirt he gave you was way too large, nearly hanging off of one of your shoulders. He must’ve had it mixed in with laundry as it held the scent of his pine-ish cologne that had always made you melt. The sweats he loaned to you also fit poorly, but you didn’t mind too much.

You padded your way into Hitoshi’s room.

It was a familiar spot. Many nights were spent here drunkenly carousing with your pals, rolling on the worn hardwood. Many hours had been spent splayed out on the floor, both of you pouring over textbooks and academic journals, constructing brutal papers with the aid of unhealthy amounts of lukewarm black coffee.

Hitoshi’s room, for a long time, strangely, had been incredibly comfortable and safe. On a night like this one, you couldn't be more glad.

His room was dimly lit, yellowish string lights hung on the ceiling. They dimly illuminated the many gig posters, prints, and thrifted picture frames he had amassed over the years. A desk in the corner, an aged dresser, and a (blessedly) queen-sized bed with a comfy black duvet.

You blinked at Hitoshi, noting the lack of his usual clutter around the room, “Did you clean while I was in the shower?”

Hitoshi was standing in the corner, tapping away at his phone with a furrowed brow, but managed to look up and flash you a smile, “Maybe.”

You chuckled, walking up to him and comfortably wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in his arm. You felt him jump a bit, but quickly relax.

It was all new to both of you, but very welcome.

“Is everything alright?” You asked, watching the way Hitoshi frowned at his phone.

He ran a hand over his face, sighing, “How surprised would you be if I told you Denki and Hanta blacked out and puked on the way back?”

“Not very surprised, but still, yikes,” You looked up at Hitoshi. “Are they coming back here? I’ll babysit if you have to, too.”

He turned to give you a small, sympathetic smile, “That is very sweet of you, but it sounds like they’re going to crash Momo’s or Katsuki’s.”

You felt... suspicious.

You narrowed your eyes at him, eyes darting to your purse on his nightstand, “I haven’t checked the group chat, but did you put something in the group chat?

Hitoshi took a sharp inhale, a cute blush painting his nose and cheeks, “It may have slipped that we finally... said we liked each other.”

“May have?” You raised an eyebrow.

“There may have been a betting pool that I have just been made aware of—”

“Did... Did they all know?”

“And, they wanted to give us some privacy—”

You covered your face with your hands, leaning into him, “Jesus fucking—”

“Very considerate of them, considering,” Hitoshi sighed, pocketing his phone and wrapping his arms over your shoulders. “I’d much rather be sleeping next to you than dealing with blackout Denki.”

“True, true,” You sighed, uncovering your face to look up at Hitoshi. He was beaming at you with a look of adoration that made your chest ache. You frowned, “Are you gonna be able to sleep?”

You knew of Hitoshi’s insomnia well. Though you could manage to sleep, his inability to fall into slumber was something he wrestled with daily. You knew he was able to sleep some, but it was a great difficulty and was the root cause of his incessant caffeine consumption.

“I’m gonna try, if not, it’ll be okay, I’ll at least be very comfortable,” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Besides, it’s easier to sleep next to someone.”

“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “Like, has it always been easier for you to sleep with someone?”

Hitoshi gave a little sigh, nodding.

“Dummy,” You snorted, lightly flicking his nose. “You could’ve asked me.”

“To... Sleep with me?” Hitoshi blinked down at you.

“Yeah. I would’ve said yes,” you shrugged easily. It was hardly a question. Even if you didn’t have incredibly strong feelings for Hitoshi, you would’ve tried to help. “I’ve always cared about you like that.”

Hitoshi closed his eyes and took a big inhale, the hands on your arms speeding up a little, “You have no idea what you do to me, do you, (Y/N)?”

Your gut dropped, “I don’t—”

Hitoshi didn’t give you a chance to fully answer him before leaning down abruptly and scooping you into his arms. Your arms flew to his neck for purchase as he cradled you to his chest, squeezing and walking to the bed.

“You are just so fucking sweet,” Hitoshi set you down on the bed, allowing you to adjust yourself to look up at him. You sat on your legs, kneeling while looking up at him.

He bit his lip, eyes widened and glassy looking down at you. You gulped as you heard his shaking breaths, felt his trembling hand cup your cheek.

“You’re way too good,” Hitoshi breathed, shaking his head.

The incredibly tense sexual aura of the moment dissipated as Hitoshi sat next to you on the bed, scooting to the inside of the mattress and pulling up the comforter.

Part of you was disappointed, feeling lingering pressure between your thighs, but the more sensical part of you was very tired and wanted nothing more than to finally hold Hitoshi and fall into sleep.

“Hey, get over here,” Hitoshi knocked you from your thoughts as his arms wrapped around your waist. He dragged you up, fitting you in the crook of his arm, pressing his nose into your hair. “If you’re in my bed, you’re gonna be in my bed, fully committed.”

“I’m not complaining,” You purred, more than satisfied with throwing your leg of his own, curling in his chest.

Part of you wanted to check, to confirm that all of this was okay. The night had been a lot and you were sure both of you were pretty keyed up from everything. Getting together with Hitoshi was hardly the outcome you expected of the ‘sex party,’ but you weren’t going to complain. Fuck, you could hardly do anything as Hitoshi’s cologne, heat, and firm body were already lulling your body to sleep.

“You are sleeping, aren’t ‘ya?” Hitoshi teased, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You made a small noise, the most you could muster before burying yourself at his collarbone.

Sleep quickly took you under, Hitoshi beaming you the sweetest smile and lavishing you with quiet, subtle affections as not to wake you.

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

You woke up to dawn light streaming in through a slit in a familiar set of curtains. You grumbled, half-awake, but really not wanting to move. You were too comfortable. Warmth filled your body, peace floated over your slumber-hazed mind and you couldn’t help letting out a content sigh.

The presence of heat let out a familiar chuckle.

You slowly opened your eyes again, becoming aware of the fact that you were half sprawled over Hitoshi. He was looking down at you, sweetly, eyebrow raised.

You literally gasped.

Hitoshi’s hair was tousled and far more wild with bedhead. The amethyst yolks of his eyes were lit up by the early morning light, and he just beamed down at you.

“You’re so pretty,” You let slip.

The events of the night prior became fresh in your mind. The good ones far outweighed the bad. It was even easier to ignore any and all sour feelings because fucking finally you and Hitoshi were in bed together.

Finally.

“Why, thank you. You’re pretty beautiful yourself, you know.”

You were going to nut.

His. Voice.

It was always deep, a rolling bass, but addled with sleep? It was graveled and coarse and it made you literally wet.

“Fuck.” Was all you could muster as you slowly sat up.

Hitoshi squeezed you around your ribs, a knowing look and smile stretched across his face.

The hold on your waist reminded you that Hitoshi was, in fact, holding you. His hands, soft for how large they were, massaged slow, deep circles just above your hips and through your borrowed shirt. You had to have slept tucked up into him like that all night.

You hoped there would be many more like it.

“Did you sleep okay?” You asked, your own voice rough.

Hitoshi grinned drowsily, “I did. It’s a hell of a lot easier next to you.”

You couldn’t suppress the way your lips curled into a smile. Leaning forward, you ran your hands up his chest to brace yourself, leaving a soft kiss on his lips, “I’m glad. Very glad. Wanna do it again sometime?”

“Oh, (Y/N),” Hitoshi rumbled, hands moving up to tickle lightly at your ribs. “Now that I’ve gotten a taste of how lovely it is to sleep next you, I don’t know if I’ll ever let you sleep anywhere else.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Let me? Interesting word choice.”

“Intentional word choice,” Hitoshi’s eyes darkened, tracing your form as he wet his lips, “You like a bit of control exerted on you, don’t you, (Y/N)?”

You shuddered as Hitoshi dragged you closer, up his body so your hips straddled his own.

“I mean, yeah,” you breathed, clothes beginning to feel way too hot atop your skin. “You were there for kink night, weren’t you?”

You tried to joke, but Hitoshi didn’t let you.

“I was there,” One of Hitoshi’s hands tangled into your hair, rubbing affectionately, but your gut told you he had other, more particular, plans. “And, I have a good memory.”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi flipped the two of you.

Your back hit the mattress and knocked the wind out of you. A breathy gasp fell from your lips, unabashed as Hitoshi was suspended on top of you.

You almost spoke, but then you noticed the way Hitoshi was looking at you, and you couldn’t. Whatever breath that laid in your lungs slowly dripped out.

He was looking at you like a man starved.

His eyes glittered as he traced each curve of your body, pliant and beginning to tremble under his touchless attention.

“Y-you’re bold, you know that?” You managed to stutter out.

Hitoshi chuckled to himself, shaking his head, “Just observant. You always say that I’m a good listener.”

You shuddered as Hitoshi leaned down, nose trailing down your jaw to your pulse point. He paused above the fluttering beat of your heart before licking a strip down your neck with the flat of his tongue.

“Jesus, Hitoshi,” You scraped out, swallowing as heat rushed through your tense body.

He pulled away, only to hover just above your face, staring into your eyes with an intensity that would be stifling from anyone else other than him.

“Do you want me to keep going? We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable,” Holy fuck, did Hitoshi’s voice somehow get lower? Is that what fucking happened when he got horny?

You were going to die.

“No, no, we should keep going, yes,” You really tried not to sound desperate, but it hardly mattered. Hitoshi could more than tell, he knew you so well.

You didn’t give him a chance to tease you, hands clasping behind his head to gently pull him down to your lips.

God, you were positive you wouldn’t ever tire of Hitoshi in any way. Everything about him seemed so right, good and perfect especially near you.

Hitoshi nipped at your bottom lip, one of his hands insistently rubbing at the bones of your hip. You shuddered at the onslaught of sensations, slotting your mouth against his to bring him as close as you could manage.

One of your hands flitted down his frame, tugging at the hem of his sleep shirt. You’d seen Hitoshi shirtless plenty of times, eyed him as much as was acceptable for ‘bros’, and then moved on with a reddened face, but you would be damned if you weren’t going to ogle him a bit, now that you had the open opportunity to.

Hitoshi sat back on your hips, pulling his shirt over his head with ease and became what you could only be certain was a manifestation of your dreams.

It was clear he indeed had very much been working out, all the muscles of his abs and arms were toned and well-used, even holding a bit of the tan from when he started his training last summer.

You noted, drool puddling in your mouth, that he (and assumedly Denki) did get their nipples pierced for their ten-year friend-iversary last fall. Cute barbels hung from his nipples, surprising, but also very hot. You followed the ‘v’ of his hips to the waistband of the soft grey sweatpants he was wearing, noting with a shocked raise of the eyebrows that Hitoshi was already considerably hard and considerably large.

“You like what you see?” Hitoshi teased, leaning back over you to worry at your neck with a few well-placed licks.

You swallowed, hands pressing to his chest, running up and down the soft skin before going to pinch one of his nipples, “I really do, fuck.”

Hitoshi’s breath stutters against your neck, “Like ‘em?”

“I thought you two were kidding.”

“Oh, never—!”

Hitoshi’s words were yanked from his chest as you pinched and twisted both of his nipples, albeit lightly. You were doing it partially to get a reaction and gauge how sensitive he was. With the way he whined from the back of his throat, you inferred that he was very sensitive.

“Aren’t there more important things you could be doing with your hands?” You chided, though not an edge of malice was in your voice.

Hitoshi just seemed spurred on by this, grunting and swiping your wrists into his grip. Your hands were pressed above your head, pinned to the mattress by his body weight.

A low whine spun from the back of your throat.

“You’re really lucky that I like brats and that I love you—”

Both of you paused.

He...

Did he just—

Did he just drop the L bomb?

He dropped the L BOMB .

You stared up at Hitoshi, frowning at the absolute terror in his eyes.

“I, I mean, I didn’t mean it like that,” Hitoshi sat back up on you, nervousness in every motion of his body. “I just meant—”

“Hey,” You interrupted, sitting up with him. “I love you too, you know. I’m pretty sure I have.”

Hitoshi doesn’t say anything for a minute and neither do you. You’re both in stunned silence. Enraptured by the other, your forms painted with the precious, vibrant gold that streamed in from the curtained window. The other sounds were that of the ambient city awakening and the unsteady breath that was shared between the two of you.

It was oddly perfect, and neither of you complained.

“So,” Hitoshi broke the silence, running his hands up your arms. “I love you.”

Oh, did it feel like a drug to hear his morning voice say the new phrase in such a way.

You nodded, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his navel, “And I love you.”

“Then, it’s settled.”

There was certainly more to discuss involving the nature of your relationship, including the fact that you both had your heads so far up your asses for so long and were definitely in denial for a good portion of time, and that your love was a lot more complicated than either of you were making it out to be.

But, you both certainly shared the history for it.

All of the late nights where you both eyed the other secretly, turning away at the last moment before being noticed.

There were plenty small moments of caring, too.

There was the way how whenever you were over, you made Hitoshi a new pot of coffee, no matter if the old one was out.

There was Hitoshi’s intentional habit and insistence (that had lasted years) that he walked you back from parties, sharing cigarettes or half-carrying you. He never minded.

There was the way you had memorized each other's takeout orders months ago.

There was the small drawer in Hitoshi’s desk that was dedicated to things you left and might need. Several extra pairs of socks, makeup remover, a spare notebook, an extra laptop charger for when you inevitably forgot your own.

There was, of course, the way that you and Hitoshi were currently looking at each other. Fuck whatever fragile, easy-to-tear-away eye contact that had been occurring between the two of you for years, all that there was now between was the collection of lost time.

“Please kiss me.”

The request was obliged.

Hitoshi was quick to pin you back to the mattress, bratty behavior forgotten and stored away. There would be plenty of time to explore that mutual side of your relationship, but now only desire was Hitoshi and your shared pleasure.

Your lips slotted together, pulling a moan from your chest as Hitoshi immediately licked his into your mouth. It was a bit sloppy, rushed in the heat of the moment, but he quickly slowed down. Cupping your jaw, he deepened the kiss as you moved against him, lightly rolling your hips for any sort of friction.

You were the first to pull away, nosing to his jaw and lavishing it with bites and kisses. The rough groans and grunts that Hitoshi spilled were all the motivation you needed to go lower and lower on his neck.

Marking him as you pleased, you sucked at the skin of his neck, leaving bruises and spittle in your wake. You teasingly blew at the wet spots a few times, loving the way he shivered against you.

Hitoshi wasn’t to be outplayed, hands roving over your body. He left quick squeezes and rolled his thumbs anywhere he could reach. It was like he had to touch everything.

Your back arched and you cried into his neck as Hitoshi’s hands squeezed your breasts over your shirt, worrying a nipple with the pads of his fingers in the same way that you did to him earlier.

“Can’t take what you dish out?” Hitoshi chuckled in your ear as you squirmed underneath him.

You shook your head, biting on one of his collar bones, “I want more.”

His lips were back on your own before you could think.

You could feel how wet you were getting, unattended heat that desperately needed contact of any kind. As Hitoshi’s teeth nipped your neck, trailing lower to the wide collar of your shirt, it only got worse.

“Can I take this off?” Hitoshi asked, ever the gentleman.

You didn’t answer, but rather whipped your shirt off as quickly as possible.

And then your upper half was bared to him.

Your breasts spilled with gravity and rose and fell with your own light panting, glistening with sweaty dew.

You swallowed as Hitoshi’s hand went to your navel, flat-palmed. Slowly, he dragged it upwards, stopped to palm your tits only for a moment. You took note of how thick his fingers were and how you wanted nothing more than for them to fuck you into oblivion.

His fingers trailed to your sternum, then to your throat, tracing up the column before roughly grabbing your jaw.

“You,” Hitoshi voice sounded thick as he pressed his knee into your sex. “Have no idea what you to do me.”

“Then fucking show me.” You spit back out at him, one of your hands teasing at the top of his waistband,

Fuck Hitoshi’s knee, apparently, because he immediately slid down the bed to hover in between your legs.

You snapped your knees closed out of surprise, all the same dripping against your panties

“You want me to show you?” Hitoshi seemed to be speaking more to himself than you. “Then I will.”

Hitoshi slipped his thumbs under the waistband of the borrowed sweats, pulling them down and off of you with ease. He situated himself back between your legs, parting you by your inner thighs with a bruising grip.

You heard his sharp intake of breath as he hovered so close to your sex.

“Already so wet for me? I’m flattered.” Hitoshi didn’t give you any chance to quip back as he licked your slit through your thin panties.

You squirmed for him, all for him.

“Please, more, ‘Toshi,” Your voice was warped with pleading, but you could hardly care. The burning look that Hitoshi flashed you was more than enough to nonverbally explain his intentions.

He set to marking up your thighs, murmuring sweet nothings to and about the flesh and how you cried out for him so well. He dotted you with lovely bruises, kissing closer and closer to your dripping cunt.

With one final, pleading look, Hitoshi all but tore off the thin panties you wore and ravished you.

He licked from your opening to your clit with a flat tongue, making your thighs stiffen and toes curl. You felt him hum against you as he shifted your legs over his shoulder. One of his arms wrapped under your thigh, pressing at the bottom of your tummy and locking you in place.

He sucked hard on your clit, just once, almost as some sexual litmus test to assess your ability to move freely.

It was very low as all you could do was arch for him, whines filling the air.

It seemed like it was more than enough for him.

Hitoshi tongue fucked you sloppy, refusing to give you any more stimulation on your clit, no matter how you tried to buck at his face. All Hitoshi’s hold would allow you to do was gently grind against his face as slick and spit soaked the bed below. It was more than enough to make your brain gummy, craving nothing more and more of his touch.

You squeezed your thighs around Hitoshi’s cheeks as he carefully pressed one of his aforementioned thick fingers into your cunt. Hot pleasure permeated every corner of you as you panted for Hitoshi, all for him.

He curled his finger just right and you screamed.

Hitoshi was quick to take the hint, pushing around another inside to repeat the motion, lips, and tongue working your clit as the pressure built beautifully.

“You close, kitten?” Hitoshi’s words were muffled by your cunt, but holy fuck, you knew exactly what he said.

You whined at the use of the word, nodding and panting out a muddled affirmative.

Hitoshi sucked lewdly at the mess between your legs, pulling your body to the apex of its hot pressure, before breaking.

Your back curled off the bed, Hitoshi’s hold released to all you to fully fuck his face as he slurped at the juices between your thighs. Your mind went fuzzy as pleasure crackled through your frame, fingers curling into the rumpled fabric below and your head bowing back into the pillows.

You slowly came down, twitching as Hitoshi continued to kiss around your sex. You could half-tell he was grinding against the bed; he was that turned on.

You sat up, swaying a bit, drunk on bliss, and already semi-fucked out.

Yet, you still wanted more.

“‘Toshi, please,” You looked at him helplessly.

He sat up on his knees, hands going to play with your tits as he raised a smug eyebrow, face wet with you, “Want my cock, kitten? Is that it?”

“Holy fuck, ‘Toshi, please,” Your voice came out as mixture between a whine and growl as Hitoshi chuckled, reaching to the side for the nightstand and condoms, you assumed.

“I thought I’d have to do more to get you begging, with that little bratty shit you pulled earlier,” He mused, stepping off the bed for only a moment to finally pull off his sweats.

If your mouth had been any more open, drool would have fallen into your lap.

Hitoshi was, once again, sculpted. The guy put in work and it showed. That was less important and less relevant as you were currently lewdly, literally, drooling over his cock. It wasn’t only cervix-shatteringly long, but it was thick and curved just right. It was flushed, fully hard against his abs and leaking beads of preek, all from the friction of the bed and giving you head.

“Can I do it?” You asked as Hitoshi unwrapped the condom.

He nodded, cheekily, handing you the package.

You crawled to the edge of the bed, stopping to sit on your knees as he stood above you. Carefully, you rolled the rubber on, clenching your thighs together as your oversensitive cunt throbbed.

You stared at its girth, biting your lip nervously and looked up at Hitoshi.

Immediately, his gaze softened and he caught your face in his hand, thumbing over your cheek, “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, just, uh,” You stumbled over your words, gaze flipping from his very pretty cock and his very pretty face. “Do you have lube? It’s been a while and I don’t want to tear.”

“I do,” Hitoshi’s worry dissolved, pulling a bottle from the same drawer and tossing it on to the bed. “And, I will try my best not to tear you. We can go as slow or as fast as you like, hm?”

You nodded, biting your lip and crawling back onto the bed.

Hitoshi cooed sweet words to you as the two of you adjusted. Perhaps it was to his own natural nervousness, or maybe yours. All the same, the loving comments about your body and how good you were for him turned you to putty underneath him.

Your legs were thrown up over his shoulders, feet prepared to lock behind his head. Hitoshi knelt between your legs, holding your thighs spread as his lubed cock ran over your folds.

“Tell me if you need me to go slower, okay?” Hitoshi reminded you, ever attentive.

You gulped as Hitoshi breached your cunt with the head of his cock and holy fuck. You stretched, and it burned, but it was nothing that you couldn’t handle. Hitoshi kept praising you, running his lips wherever they could reach as he leaned over your pillow-propped form. Inch by inch, he pushed into you, stopping when your breathing got too harsh.

And then, Hitoshi’s cock was fully sheathed into you and you felt so fucking full, you could die.

“Hey, ‘Toshi?” You spoke breathlessly, wiping sweaty strands of violet hair from his cheeks. “I love you, okay? For a lot more than your dick, but this is a huge perk and I’d feel bad not saying so.”

He was still and silent for a moment, head bent out of your view.

“You’re gonna tell me, while I’m buried this deep in this cute, little cunt of yours, such sweet shit? That you love me?” Hitoshi growled, darkened eyes lust-hazed.

You nodded.

Hitoshi swiftly pulled almost entirely out of cunt, only to slam back into you, angling your hips perfectly to hit your g-spot.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, head thrown back and you gave a breaking wail, body shaking with the sudden cracking of pleasure.

And, Hitoshi didn’t relent.

He continued his hard, deep, and long thrusts, increasing his speed as he felt you loosen for him. With each thrust, wet squelching sounds spurred the two of you on.

Hitoshi’s face buried itself in your neck, sucking harsh marks that sparked pain across your heated skin. You couldn’t get enough of it. You couldn’t get enough of him.

Hitoshi accented each thrust with a more desperate, broken sounding ‘I love you,’ quickly unraveling at the seams as his thrusts and kisses became more erratic.

He reached between the two of you, blessedly circling your clit as your own orgasm was close to cresting.

You came before Hitoshi, just by a second, the clenching of your cunt and the way you moaned his name being more than enough for him to blow his load, fucking you through both of your orgasms.

You both stilled, panting.

Hitoshi fell next to you on the bed, instantly pulling you to his chest and smothering you with kisses. You returned them, shuddering and coming down from the earth-shattering peak you had just been at.

“Fuck, Hitoshi,” You squeezed around your arms around his waist. “You fuck like a god.”

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple, “You say shit like that and it’s gonna inflate my ego.”

“Guess I gotta keep saying it, then.”

You smiled up at him, moving to straddle his waist, ignoring your bodily complaints.

“I love you, you know,” Hitoshi beams from below you, looking at you with a reverence that you craved for so long, but were too afraid to voice.

You let out a shaking breath, smiling right back, “I love you, too.”

Hitoshi pulled you in for a sweet kiss you returned easily, smiling against his lips, melting into him—

His cock hardened against your thigh.

“Round two?” Considering the smiles you beamed each other, that was a definite ‘yes, please’.

But, you were rudely interrupted by the slammed of the front door. You both stiffened, Hitoshi immediately going to grab your waist and drag you onto the bed. He threw a blanket over you, but it was hardly necessary.

Denki’s voice rang over the house, “HEY! Did y’all fuck yet? If you did, please tell me. I’m against Mina in the betting pool and I’m in deep.”

All you and Hitoshi could spare was a laugh and a sweet kiss, before you shouted back, “What do you think?!”

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