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vivypotter · 5 years

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Vivy’s Harry Potter Fic Recs

I’ve had a load of people ask me for my favourite tomarry fics, so I thought I’d compile a fic rec! This will probably be updated as I think of things. However, I have a lot of favourite fics which aren’t Tomarry, so I thought I’d add a few other pairings as well. I think I’ll put up a few recs of other fandoms as well when I get ‘round to it, like Hannibal or the Hobbit (I have weird reading habits okay?) It’ll help me find them too xD.

Tom Riddle or Voldemort/Harry Potter

Consuming Shadows by Child_OTKW (WIP)

On the night of the attack, Lily managed to escape with her infant son, but at the cost of her husband’s life. Distraught and distrusting of her friends, she fled to France with Harry, to raise him away from the corruption in Britain and the rising influence of the Dark Lord. She trains him to the best of her abilities, shaping him into a dangerous, intelligent and powerful wizard.

But when Britain re-establishes the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry is forced to return to his once-home, he finds himself questioning whether he really wants to kill the Dark Lord. Voldemort finds an unexpected challenge in the child, and as his intrigue and amusement grows, so too does the desire to possess the spark in those defiant green eyes.

I feel this is genuinely one of the best Tomarry fanfics maybe ever written, and I’m sure you’ve probably read it since it’s so popular - but I thought I’d recommend it anyway! It’s not finished, but there’s enough of it to really sink your teeth into and action is properly going down right now. Harry is such an interesting character and his cat and mouse dynamic with Voldemort is so entertaining. I anxiously wait for every update!

Set the Sails (and don’t look back) by Terrific Lunacy (Complete)

1724. All Harry wanted to do was to cross the Atlantic and start his apprenticeship under one of the most renowned physicians. Tom Riddle is convinced everything floating in the seven seas belongs to him. That includes ship-wrecked, green-eyed youths. Especially if they tell him to fuck off.

This is a fic that’s really stuck with me. It’s complete (a miracle in the tomarry fandom) and there’s a fun back-and-forth between Voldemort and Harry. Our goodhearted Harry is a doctor! And for some reason, I’ve been really into Pirate AUs recently.

A Thousand Paths Among The Stars by haplesshippo (Complete)

Harry Potter, newly appointed Captain of the Marauder and son of the famous Captain James Potter, was falling apart at the seams. His crew didn’t respect him, he was lost in the empty expanse of space, nightmares plagued his sleep, and his Commander deserved the Captain position more than he did. Good thing multiple attempts on his life and a vicious warlord after his head was all it took to turn it all around.

Alternatively, that space fic in which Harry Potter almost dies too many times, Tom Riddle slowly becomes the most smitten fool on the ship, and the rest of the crew are all just a bunch of assholes with popcorn watching the show. And exploding ships, don't forget the exploding ships.

Another pirate AU, kind of! But this one is in space! And it’s actually more of a Star Trek AU. Okay, it’s not really a pirate AU but I wanted to keep the theme going. This is such a freaking good fic- the relationship between Tom and Harry is very unusual (not as combative as the last two fics) and there are some nice twists, as well as combination of HP lore and what I assume is Star Trek (I’ve never seen it okay). And the extended cast is excellent. I fully recommend!

The Dragon's Mate by Strange_Soulmates (Complete fics but WIP series)

Harry Potter has recently escaped from his dragon-guarded tower. So has his fellow prisoner - the dragon who was enchanted to guard him. Harry's friend is missing, however, and so he sets off to assure himself of his well-being before he finds the person responsible for imprisoning them both. Accompanied by a stranger with a familiar name, Harry finds himself with more questions than answers as he slowly learns about the customs of dragons and the history of the dragon he befriended, the fearsome Voldemort.

I really love pretty much all of Strange_Soulmates’ fics, but this is definitely my favourite (and maybe the only complete one? Don’t quote me on that.) The characters are so well done, and although I love the first fic a little more than the second, they are both excellent reads! Dragons and wizards? Yes, please!

Everything's Fine in the Beast Division by Merrinpippy (Complete)

Harry's lifelong ambition is to become an auror, but as his knowledge of Dangerous Beasts is somewhat lacking, Newt Scamander agrees to take him on as an apprentice. Contrary to the Weasley twins' predictions that Harry would die of boredom, Harry finds his time at the Ministry very interesting, and befriending the very attractive Tom Riddle doesn't hurt at all- in fact, quite the opposite.

This is such a fantastic fanfiction, and a crossover with Fantastic Beasts (a franchise I can’t stand but that’s a conversation for another time). It manages to be fluffy without going OOC which is difficult for tomarry fics, and the supporting cast are adorable!

To Be Set Free by Merrinpippy

Harry Potter, raised and abused by the Dursleys ever since his parents died, lives in the cupboard under the stairs. He has no friends or family who love him and his life is dull until one day a letter arrives arrives for him, written in green ink, that promises freedom. Sounds familiar, right?

King Thomas Riddle's illness combined with his political paranoia pushes him to arrange three royal balls, after which his son, Prince Tom Riddle, must choose a guest to marry, thereby securing the kingdom's future and solidifying their strength in the eyes of their allies/enemies. Tom is convinced that he will be able to defy his father and choose no-one, or at least he is until at the first ball he meets an attractive stranger with dark hair and glasses who won't tell anyone his name...

This is also excellent, and I love a good Fairytale AU. Merrinpippy has some really good stuff. I love all of it!

As Clichéd as Clichés Go by thecrimsonmonarch (One-shot)

Harry Potter wasn't known for his social skills, mainly because they were practically non-existent.

This is a bit random but very fun. Harry is a fucking dork. That’s all there is to say. A thoroughly amusing Lawyer AU.

Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus by The Carnivorous Muffin (WIP)

As the unwitting personification of Death, reality exists to Lily through the veil of a backstage curtain, a transient stage show performed by actors who take their roles only too seriously. But as the Girl-Who-Lived, Lily's role to play is the most important of all, and come hell or high water play it she will, regardless of how awful Wizard Lenin seems to think she is at her job.

This is a still-uploading fanfic and one of my faves. It’s not for everyone- it’s a fem!Harry and she’s so different that she’s really an OC to be honest, and the story is slightly complicated. This is certainly not a fic to go for if you want IC characters. But I really love the writing and the ideas and it’s basically a new, fascinating universe. And even if they’re not IC, I love the characters all dearly. The Carnivorous Muffin is certainly an extremely talented writer- all of her stuff is excellent.

Little Bits by lordmarvoloriddle

Inspired by Cinderella. Only there's no prince and surely no one is singing about their feelings and Harry's life could be a lot worse than having three step-brothers and a father who didn't liked him. He's going to be proven right.

This is such a bloody creepy fic and so so good. The ending is a complete twist and you should definitely read it!

Drarry

Draw a Line from Your Heart to Mine by CreateImagineWrite (Complete)

Being Harry Potter's best friend isn't always fame and beating off raving fans. It's also the anxiety of hearing your best mate's been cursed by another Dark Lord, or love potioned by some crazy woman. Or having his boyfriend you knew nothing about turn up on the Burrow's doorstep.

This is a bit of a random inclusion, but I was just reading this and it is SO GOOD. Perhaps a bit cliched in places, but Ron Weasley’s inner monologue makes up for it.

Turn by Saras_Girl

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

This is an also an excellent fic that I read bloody ages ago and has apparently stuck with me. There’s this whole Harry going into an alternate dimension where he’s married to Draco Malfoy plot, but the really beautiful thing is Harry exploring his dissatisfaction with his life- through carpentry! I know it sounds like a crack fic, but it’s not- it’s a gorgeously written fic.

Away Childish Things by lettered

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

This does the ‘Harry was abused’ revelation so well and really interestingly explores both Harry and Draco’s childhood. The overarching plot is also excellently done, which can’t always be said for character-focused fics!

Jily

#Jily by Chie (Chierafied) (One-shot)

Twitter seemed awash with the hashtag Jily. Lily blinked at in confusion, until she realised it was one of those silly couple monikers people had bestowed on her and Potter. …Though there was a small dissenting crowd following a tweet from Potter’s bandmate Sirius Black: Jily? Hah! More like LAMES.

This is such a fucking cute one-shot. I love social media AUs (if you find any, send them my way), so I loved this!

The Rise and Fall of the Extraordinary Jilysanschilly: Including Excerpts of their Best Collected Works by elanev91 (One-shot)

James Potter and Lily Evans are both wildly successful YouTubers and Sirius cannot believe that people ship them enough to write erotic fanfiction about them.

You might be picking up on my love of modern Jily AUs. This is so cute, Sirius is weirdly IC as he gets caught up in a smut addiction and James and Lily don’t hate each other from the beginning so that’s fun. A very sweet YouTuber AU.

Hit the Like Button by elixirsoflife (One-shot)

YouTube star James Potter is living it up at uni: filming videos, getting drunk and professing his love for aspiring singer Lily Evans to anyone who'll listen.

It’s another modern AU, but this time, Lily is a famous singer! This was fucking adorable, enough said.

The White Album by cgner (Complete)

James poses as an advice charm in Lily's diary. He's really got to start thinking through his shenanigans.

This is the strangest mix of angst and fluff that I’ve ever read, but it really, really works. It’s also kind of a crossover, as it’s written by the co-author of:

Haggis from Algernon by Rude Gus (Complete)

The fic about nothing.

Everything written by both Rude Gus and cgner is brilliant (not a surprise as they’re almost the same person), but Haggis really is a classic. And check out their Bachelor AU fic! It’s surprisingly brilliant.

Gen and Misc

Kid by Anonymous (Completed)

A Potion's "accident" turns Harry into an eight year old. Draco Malfoy begins planning his kidnapping/conversion to the Dark Side. But Harry's a passive-aggressive, revenge-obsessed little bastard. Maybe Draco will wait on that whole Dark Lord thing…

Such a cute fic! A really nice character study of Draco and cute kid Harry is always a bonus. I’m not usually a Draco Malfoy fan, but this is a great fic.

Harveste by kyaru-chan (Complete fics but WIP series - probs abandoned)

He's done it. He's just five years old, but he's finally done it. The Dursleys are gone. And now he's with a new family who seems just as twisted as he is. How strange.

This is a really weird fic series. It’s actually an Addams family AU? Harry kills the Dursleys and gets adopted by the Addams family, and then there’s a separate fic for each HP book up to Half-Blood Prince, where I think they stopped. It definitely still worth a read though. Harry is certainly not IC but it’s a fascinating combination of the two universes with all the quirky Addams family humour. It’s certainly a bit of a crack fic to read when you’re down.

Sarcasm and Slytherin by sunmoonandstars (Complete stories but WIP series)

After ten years of misery with the Dursleys, Harry Potter learns that he has magic. Except, in this story, it's not a surprise-the only surprise is that there are others like him. Including his twin brother, Julian Potter, the savior of the Wizarding world.

This isn't the Harry you think you know.

This is WBWL kind of story (although we don’t know if Harry actually is the BWL yet. Harry is a really interesting character and his relationship with his family- especially Jules - is very well developed and nuanced. Harry’s friendships and the authors interpretation of Slytherin house is also a new twist on old tropes- it feels very fresh! I’m eagerly waiting for updates!

So there it is. Just some of my HP faves. I’m considering doing one for Hannibal, Yuri on Ice, The Hobbit, Labyrinth (my tastes are so weird) etc, so let me know if you’re interested!

#fanfic #fic rec #harry potter fic rec #tomarry fic rec #jily fic rec #tomarry

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a-baleful-howl · 5 years

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I’m about to go full-on petty mode. So if you don’t care about my personal gloating and back-patting, scroll on by lol

This post contains spoilers for episode 1 of season 8, and also spoilers for my fic The Lone Wolf Dies.

I recognize this post is really only for me. I’m a salty bitch.

This is fanart the wonderful and lovely @cathcacen drew for me when I was at my lowest and receiving the most hate I’ve ever gotten for a fic.

I ranted about it for a bit, deleted the worst of the flames I could off of FFN, and I haven’t actually been back to FFN since this all happened. Don't think I havent noticed the love and support I got from the JonsaFam, either. I very much appreciated it, and I know many people enjoyed my fic (and are begging me to finish it...).

Here’s some highlights of the comments I received on FFN accusing me of being “unrealistic” or of committing “character assassination” (sad thing is, these aren’t even the worst reviews I got):

“Arya would never let Sansa or the Northern Lords do that to Jon[...]This story is making Jon a bit of a wimp and Arya willing to betray him even though she loves him more than Sansa.” [saphirablue25 on chapter 1]

“Another story about Jonsa, and Anti-Dany, and pro-norte and pro-stark? these crap stories are becoming common since season 7.[...]and this kind of stories, without any artistic or literary value, just deserve to be vilified. is just another excuse to be myopic and criticize character without reason, especially when it is already something practically canon that Jon / Daenerys will be in the books too, as one producer of the HBO series said, who was told George Martin. waste of time.” [flayjunior15 on chapter 1]

“this story is rubbish, more crap without sense…” [guest on chapter 1]

“This is character assassination. Arya Stark would never betray Jon Snow; no matter what;[...]Of course now it’s a Jon and Sansa pairing ignoring everything that happened in season 7 b/c why not?[...] The leaps you Jonsa writers take to mischaracterize daenerys just b/c you’re not getting the ending you want in the show or the books is a little ridiculous. You can’t write a story that’s based on show-canon and then ignore all obstacles presented in said canon just to put your two favorite characters together. That’s not how good storytelling works.” [FanofLogic (lol) on chapter 1]

“I don't think Arya would ever betray Jon, it's just not plausible.[...]There are gaping plot holes, that need to be seriously addressed, the writing and the punctuation are fine, it’s well spaced and makes sense in a linear sense, but in terms of plot and story, it crumbles to dust before you even finish reading the chapter in its entirety.[...]I don’t want to stop you from writing, that’s not my intention, you just need to sit back and ask yourself, if it really makes sense.” [carpenoctem20 on chapter 1]

“Well, I read your story. It is sad really because your writing style is good and enjoyable but the stupidity of your character's actions[...]Too bad, your writing is promising but the story lacks logic…[...]Also, thank you for butchering Arya’s character - she is my favourite and you completely ruined her.” [malb901 on chapter 1]

“I realize that this story is an AU because our characters are written not how they are portray in television or books…” [GUEST VIII on chapter 1]

“If your goal was to write Arya completely out of character and Sansa as a short sighted idiot with the northern lords as her peanut gallery...then good job. Otherwise your characterization needs a lot of work.” [guest on chapter 1]

“Arya...well how she is written is so absurdly offbase from canon you would have been better off write my that part as an of to avoid having preconceived about the character.” [guest on chapter 1]

“What a load of complete garbage. So much character assassination across the board is an injustice to GRRM’s work!” [guest on chapter 1]

“Another junk Jonsa story, I see that many of these losers, are very salty, because their crackship (because that’s the Jonsa, a crack) shipwrecked last season.[...]The author of this story is another salty loser with no sense, just like all the Jonsa fans of this crack ship.[...] even Arya has a stronger relationship with Jon than with any member of her family, she would care less about the North, even threatening to kill the Northern Lord, if they hurt Jon. Only two idiots of Jonsa, defend this story.” [JonsaSucks on chapter 1]

“Highly questionable characterization and plot holes big enough to fly a dragon through...pass” [guest on chapter 2]

“With Arya, she's so OC in this that it would have made more sense to make her a new character. She would never choose Sansa over Jon.” [saphirablue25 on chapter 2]

“So disappointing! This story is a complete disservice to anyone who is not a blind Sansa worshiper.[...]The plot holes don't do you any favors either.” [Zmrzlina763 on chapter 3]

“Poorly written, plot holes, unrealistic” [guest on chapter 3]

“What a pile of crap. So many plot holes and character assassination. You should be ashamed to publish such garbage.” [guest on chapter 4]

“I hated this story...thought it was really ridiculous.” [guest on chapter 4]

“I would highly recommend rereading GRRM’s work as it’s obvious you are basing your characterizations on contrived reimaginings with no basis in the work you claim to be a fan of. Please do us all a favor and quit polluting the fandom with this nonsense.” [guest on chapter 4]

And finally, for the piece de resistance!

“Oh boy that story became retarded real quick” [guest on chapter 1]

Now, I might be biased but my brain kept pointing out similarities to the first episode of season 8 and my fic - which I never claimed to be writing what I thought was really going to happen, but that this what I wished in a best case scenario would, my interpretation of all the info we got from Season 7, and it was always only ever supposed to be a Jonsa one-shot but it kept growing.

Now, one of the biggest complaints I got was “character assassination” - saying that the characters would never behave the way I wrote them to. This is mainly what I want to focus on as clearly the fic is not exactly the same as the episode - and I never expected it to be. Fanfic is fanfic for a reason. For one, Sansa and the North refuse Jon and Dany, and that's kind of the catalyst to everything else that happens in the fic. Thats a big change - so I’m not saying “My fic was exactly like the show!!” I just wanted to point out all the moments while watching the show I was like “See! I didn’t assassinate anyone’s character!” since that’s apparently a crime I was committing against all of fandom.

If you haven’t read the fic, I highly suggest you do since many of these quotes are small snippets taken from a bigger context.

All the text is from my fic, the pictures are the moments I thought were similar from the show.

Daenerys had chosen to forgo her dragons to mount a horse instead, as a show of equality and peace to the Northern people.

The Hound, Sandor Clegane, rode beside them, seemingly reluctant to be there, in his own way.

“Greetings,” she announced. “How gracious for you to meet us.” Though her words were not sweet - they never were - and she measured the air between the two parties cautiously.

“You’ve traveled very far,” Sansa responded, her horse shifting impatiently under her. Her voice did not waver, and it carried loud and clear across the void. “It would be rude of me to not turn you away personally.”

Daenerys remained silent.

“We know no King, but the King in the North whose name is Stark.” Lyanna Mormont bellowed from her own steed. Her eyes were glowering, stern and furious. Not little Lyanna…

“First the Wildlings, and now a foreign whore,” Lord Glover spat, his horse just as wide as he was. “You’re not a Northerner. You’re anything but.”

He looked to Sansa for an answer. Surely Sansa would not leave him to the wolves. Yet she avoided his eye.

“I missed you too, Jon…” she called back, and his heart knew that she meant it. “But Starks stick together. I know that now. What would Father think?” His heart broke. If only they knew…

Jon had warned her. He knew before heading to Dragonstone that the Northerners were not likely to kneel to a foreign ruler. Sansa had said so herself many times. He resisted the urge to gloat, to remind the Dragon Queen of his words.

“Sam?” he whispered. Surely he must be imagining it. Sam was here? In Winterfell? The round man came stumbling towards him, his arms waving madly by his sides to catch Jon's attention.[...] The two clasped each other in a strong embrace for a moment before Jon pulled back. [...] “Gilly?” Jon asked absently. “And the baby?” “They're fine!” Sam answered, finally with a dim smile. “They’re here.”

Arya . Oh, Arya! She’s safe. He frantically grabbed her, sweeping his hands over her hair and face, feverishly kissing the top of her head, thanking the old gods that she was here. Thank the gods his little sister was alive. She had wrapped her arms so tightly around him he could barely breathe.

“You leave him alone!” Arya barked, running swiftly down the hall towards them.

“Don’t you understand what this means, Jon?” Sam insisted. “You’re the heir to the Iron Throne.”

Jon didn’t care about that. Not now. Suddenly everything he thought he knew was a lie. His father- no, his uncle... had lied to him his whole life. This meant that Daenerys was his aunt by blood. And Sansa was his…

He suddenly felt very ill.

[...]Everything tasted bitter to him now. Everything he had ever known was a lie, but oddly, it made sense. Eddard had gone south to save his sister and had returned with a child. It made sense. How - how - had he not seen it before?

[...]People die and stay dead. That was a fact. Unless he had believed more lies than the one his uncle had told him his whole life.

He had traveled on horseback many times, but never alone. [...] When he drew nearer to Winterfell, the snow and winds were so strong he was forced to cover every inch of skin but his eyes.

“You look like you’ve seen the seven hells.”

“You don’t look any better,” Sandor replied. Jaime tried to ignore the slight. It was true he was unshaven, unwashed and frozen to the bone.

“It’s too late,” Bran interrupted. Jon’s blood ran cold at the words.

“What do you mean it’s too late?”

“The Wall is gone. Eastwatch is gone. There is a dragon that breathes blue fire.”

Now, I’m not trying to say “I’m Nostradamus and I guessed the entire first episode.” No. That is absolutely not what I’m saying. I thought I made an informed guess into how the characters might react to the events in season 7 and amongst each other, and used my own opinions on the characterizations to write a story based around one thing: Jon realizing he loved Sansa because she died. Everything else was secondary to me.

It’s only because I got such immediate and hostile push back to something I saw as obvious foreshadowing that made me feel so vindicated when the first episode had so many similarities to what I wrote. Anyone could have come up with these same lines as I did - because the evidence was there and the Jonsa fam was pointing it out the whole time.

I just reallllly hate how fanfiction, especially in ASOIAF and on FFN, has the default accusation of “character assassination” to use when you just hate a story, when all fandom characterizations are just opinions. Only the author of the original source material can decry character assassination. Fanfiction is everyone’s personal choices when it comes to things like this, and it appears that a whole shitload of Dany Stans descended on my story, and instead of saying “I hate Jonsa and Dany can do no wrong” they personally attacked me for horrible writing - when in fact I was the one more on point than they were. I never expected Sansa and the North to literally turn Dany and Jon away at the gates - but thats why I wrote a fanfic about it. Because that was the only way I was going to see it told.

I was so upset by this (can’t you tell? lol) that seeing this episode really made me feel good and feel more proud in what I wrote.

okay. rant over.

#original #text post #s8 #8.01 #my fics #the lone wolf dies #long post

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randomoranges · 5 years

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sometimes you come up with some dumb idea and youre like ahaha lol.

and then you lowkey think of it but just Like That.

and then it’s the day after and you’re lying in a patch of sun and it writes itself in your head.

and then you just gotta. even if you don’t know where this is going.

warnings for homophobia, homophobic language, toxic masculinity and mentions of other such not so great things.

another “it eventually will get better for them lamao” fics ?

rehab au literally absolutely no one asked for.

Edward cursed as he tried to flick the lighter to life. It figured it would give out on him now when he was stuck in this godforsaken place and he couldn’t just – go out and buy one. He was about to stomp back inside, make a scene if he had to, until he could smoke his goddamned cigarette in peace, when he heard the door behind him open. He turned quickly to see who it was and his mood didn’t improve when he noticed it was that insufferable volunteer.

“I swear to God, if you’re here to tell me that I can’t fucking smoke on the fucking balcony, I’m going to burn this fucking building down with everyone in it,” He spat out and he meant every word of it. This was prison. This was hell. This was worse than hell and there wasn’t a moment when he didn’t think of escaping, but so far, all his plans had badly failed him. He had to be here, apparently. It was for his own good, apparently. Well – they could go fuck themselves, apparently, but that didn’t seem to be in anyone’s plans.

He heard the volunteer chuckle and then laugh as he made his way to the railing and peered down. Edward had thought of jumping down and running. He still thought of it. Every time he came out on this godforsaken balcony. The problem was they were too far up and there was nothing for him to climb down. That and he’d tried already since he’d arrived in this godforsaken rehab centre some three weeks ago. (Three weeks, two days, six hours, thirty-seven minutes – too goddamned long, if anyone asked him.)

And that was when he’d met Étienne the Volunteer. Étienne the Fucking Cocksucker Volunteer Who Was Always So Happy and Cheerful and Patient and Kind with the Really Pretty Hair and Nice Eyes. Not that the hair or the eyes mattered. They didn’t – but Edward hated the fact that he’d thought that upon seeing Étienne for the first time. And maybe, if Étienne hadn’t been some kindred spirit sent on his way to Help Him, Edward would have taken a liking to him – if they were the same – if they were both fucked up. But no, Étienne was a Nice Guy Now.

Edward hated him. Not because Étienne had done anything bad, per se, but because Étienne was there. Étienne was some sort of feel good success story the rehab centre seemed to want to brandish in front of all the other miserable sad sacks and losers like him. To let them know there was Hope and that with some Hard Work they too could Make It and Get Better.

Edward wanted to punch that pretty smile off Étienne’s face and set everything on fire.

It wasn’t even Étienne’s fault. At least, not for how fucked up Edward was and not for how utterly angry he felt. That was on him. But it seemed Étienne was always there when Edward wanted to punch a hole in a wall and that certainly didn’t help his mood. Plus nothing seemed to phase Étienne. He’d seen it all and done it all and now he was better! And it was great! And he should feel empathy and joy for him! For how great it could be!

Edward wanted to throw up on the whole idea.

Étienne leaned all casual like against the railing and took out a cigarette from his own pack, taking Edward by surprise. So the poster child wasn’t so fucking perfect after all. Huh. Edward remained silent and watched as Étienne took out a lighter from his pocket, lit up his cigarette in one fluid click and then took a long drag from it, his long fingers curled around the cigarette, full lips placed in a perfect “o” to suck the nicotine in and Edward’s eyes lingered. His fingers itched. His mind raced. And he wondered. Illicit thoughts. About long fingers and pretty green eyes and curly brown hair and full lips. And he hated himself all over again.

“D’you want me to light you up?” Étienne offered and Edward seethed.

“What the hell is your problem?! D’you think I’m some fucking fag?! Is this what you do?! Proposition yourself to others in the centre?! Is that why they keep you here? I thought you were supposed to be out of that!” He spat out, disgusted. He knew the story. It wasn’t even a secret. Étienne liked to share his struggle with the others. To help them, or some other bullshit excuse. But Edward wasn’t fooled. He wouldn’t be surprised, really. How well did rehab really work? He found it incredibly hard to believe that people could just... stop and resist the temptation and craving – that with time they could “get better” and go back to a “normal life” – maybe for some – maybe for those who weren’t damned and fucked like he was, because there was no “cure” for the likes of him – there was no “magical therapy” for him and that was the whole damned problem.

Edward was brought up in what he thought was a good, loving family. His parents never yelled in front of him and his sister, they never hit him and his sister, they encouraged him and his sister when they wanted to take up after school activities and play sports, and he had never gone hungry or cold. He’d gone to a good school, had pocket money for his leisure activities and overall, his childhood had been pretty regular and nice. His first distinct memory of his parents being “different” came from one summer, after he’d turned eight, when they’d gone for a family picnic. He had been playing with his sister, kicking around a soccer ball, when the ball had rolled away to two older boys who had been sitting together.

Edward had thought little of it – had run up to them to get the ball back, but when he’d returned, his father had given him a stern warning to stay away from “people like that” and that if ever he even dared approach “fags” on his own accord, there would be “consequences”. Edward had nodded to all of that, had been afraid to disappoint his father, even though he had no idea what the word meant and why those two men were considered “bad people”.

It had taken him until the start of the school year to hear the word again, when one of the older kids on the playground had shouted the word to another kid and Edward wasn’t sure if it was meant as an insult or not – on the one hand, many of the other kids were laughing, but the boy who had received the word hadn’t seemed so pleased. He’d asked his teacher, the lovely Ms. Karen, after recess, and she had taken him apart to gently, if firmly, explain why it was a bad word and why it shouldn’t be used towards others and what it was supposed to really mean.

Edward had decided right then and there that he would never be a fag – no matter what – because they were bad, because his father had said so – and because he didn’t want to face consequences.

With time, the word festered in his mind, and as he grew older, his parents became more vocal on certain issues, telling him and his sister what was right, what was wrong, what they thought of “certain people” and certain “political ideas”. And Edward, wanting to be a model son, shaped his views to match those of his parents, and it worked – to a point.

For the longest period of time, Edward had never thought of himself as “different” from all the other “normal boys” in his school. He liked sports just fine, liked to roughhouse with his friends, given the right circumstance, he thought girls had cooties, and he watched the same shows and read the same books his friends did. The first time he realised there might be something off about him was during one terrible English class in seventh grade, when they had been watching a movie in class. He couldn’t remember what the movie was, but Edward remembered watching the movie, half bored out of his mind, until the main character’s best friend had showed up on screen and Edward, half out of it, had found himself thinking that the actor was cute – had felt drawn to the masculine charms of the actor – of the sound of his voice and the dimple in his cheeks – of the way he looked and carried himself – of how good he looked without a shirt on.

It had taken him a full minute to realise what he had just thought and when he’d realised it, he had nearly been ill to his stomach. He was not like that! He could not be like that! And Edward had done his best to calm his erratic beating heart, but later on he had to excuse himself from class, saying he wasn’t feeling well, and he had spent the remainder of the period in the washroom, splashing cool water on his face.

As his friends started talking about girls and their bodies – of their growing interests for them and of the pursuit of romantically inclined relationships with them, Edward realised that he had absolutely no interest in dating them and he quickly realised with abject horror that his gaze always lingered a second too long on some of his favourite male actors and singers – that some of his favourite male sports heroes weren’t his favourite because of their athletic skills, but maybe because of the way they looked; that when he watched sports interviews it wasn’t for the content, but for the way the player’s hair swooshed back from being wet, that there was something beautiful about the build of their bodies and by the time he was fifteen, Edward came to the conclusion that there was something wrong with him, but that he could never ever let anyone ever know, and that he could absolutely fix this himself, because he was not going to be some fucking fairy faggot.

So Edward did the only logical thing a person in his situation could do. He copied his parents in their ideologies. He copied his friends in how to be a “real boy” and he pretended his way through, keeping his shame a secret, keeping his secret a shame. He dated some of the girls in his class, took them on all the appropriate dates, and did all the appropriate date related things a boy his age should do and for the most part it worked. It worked when he asked his girlfriend out to prom, it worked when he went camping with his friends and he drank beer and talked about girls, and it worked when his conservative and closed-minded family asked him if he was seeing any nice young girl when he started university.

His uncles and father called him a real ladies man, they ruffled his hair when they found out he was seeing another girl, applauded him for “going out there” and “exploring his options” and were impressed when he bought himself a motorcycle and the gear that went with it. Now there was a real man in the making – a real tough guy who would marry the sweetest little thing and who would raise more real men. Edward hung to those words as though his life depended on it, but inside of him the storm only grew and the words drowned him out.

As best as he tried to fit in and be a “real man”, as much as he failed. He knew no real man wished he was making out with “that cute guy from the bus stop” when he was kissing his girlfriend. He knew no real man yearned to feel well-sculpted male abs under his calloused fingers when he undressed his girlfriend. He knew no real man wondered what it would feel like to be fucked senseless by some well-hung guy when he asked his girlfriend to get on her knees so that he wouldn’t have to see her from the front.

He knew all that.

He knew.

And yet those thoughts plagued him. And yet those thoughts kept him awake at night. And so he did what anyone else would probably do short of offering himself to the River Valley and calling it a day. He started drinking. To forget. To quench his thirst. To think of something else. To escape. But he only thirsted more, yearned more, wanted more and couldn’t stop thinking of what it could be like – feel like – to be with a man, but no one could ever know. He had heard from his parents what normal, good people, did to those miscreants – to those deviants. And he wasn’t like that. He was a real man. And he hated himself for it.

He wasn’t sure how he had come up with his Great Plan, but he remembered being very eager when he’d put it into action. He knew of places in the city where the fags went – clubs and bars – places where they met up for their crazy sex filled orgies (or so he heard on that part) and he decided, one night, after having one too many, that he’d prove to himself that he was not like that. He would go to one of these places. He would sit at their bar. He would mingle with them. And nothing else would happen. Because he was a real man. A normal man.

Edward had gone out, had found the first of such places and he’d strolled in as though he was the king of the place – higher and worthier than all these disease riddled vermin. Edward was pleased when he noticed the looks on him – pleased and disgusted. They could lust after him all they wanted, but he was here to prove a point, he wasn’t going to sink to their level, but the temptation grew. It felt like a fever dream – like his worst nightmares (his better wet dreams?) come to life – and Edward was only human.

He succumbed to the temptation, let anonymous hands roam his body and touch in all the places he had always wanted to be touched. He fisted his hands in short hair and praised the willing mouth around his cock and all the while he told himself that it wasn’t as though he was really doing anything – he wasn’t giving anything and simply being a kindred, benevolent man, letting this stranger enjoy his body. He was being generous. He was looking out for his fellow man. He should be applauded.

The problem with his brilliant plan was that he returned. He went back. He sought more. And with each visit he created new rules. It was fine as long as he didn’t engage first. It was fine as long as he was the one deciding what happened next. It was fine as long as he wasn’t the one on his knees performing. It was fine until he didn’t ejaculate first. It was fine as long as he was the one fucking the other man senseless. It was fine as long as he was allowing the other man the pleasure of fucking him senseless. It was fine as long as... as long as...

He took pleasure in it. He loved the sound of skin hitting skin. He loved the sound of the grunt of satisfaction of a good fuck. He loved the feeling of being completely dominated by another man. He loved looking at the sight of his own cum leaking out of another man’s ass (and he loved the feeling of being filled with another man’s semen – because if he was doing this, he was going to be reckless about it – he was a real man and thus the rules of the game didn’t apply to him – he had his own rulebook.)

No one knew of his nightly escapades. He wasn’t stupid. He played his cards right. He did what he had to do. And every time he went to that place he always left telling himself he hadn’t enjoyed it. That he was still proving a point. Because he couldn’t be a fucking homo. But the problem was, if he was being honest with himself, the highlight of his week was when he could give himself up to some anonymous man who would rock his body against his – when he could touch and lick and feel and smell another man’s body – and he fucking hated himself for it.

He tried to hide his shame in his girlfriend’s presence – tried to keep up the game – but as time went on, it got harder, the drinking got harder, and so he turned to drugs. To escape. To elate. To pretend a little longer. And with every time he fucked a new man, there would be that small parcel of complete satisfaction that would overcome him, before he would be crushed and washed over with guilt and disgust. He would hate himself even more for the monster that he was, would reach for another bottle, another sniff, and dig another foot in his grave.

There were those who burnt quickly from both ends and then there was him, the reckless deviant who played the devil’s game and wished his girlfriend was a boyfriend, who wished the man he was fucking was his girlfriend, who wished he wasn’t so completely fucked over. And the problem was he didn’t know how to stop – didn’t want to stop – was afraid of stopping. What would he do if he stopped? What would happen to him? How could he go back to his normal life and how could he keep pretending? He kept up the game, dodged the inquiring questions, the worried looks, and kept being just another one of the guys who fucked his girlfriend on the regular, liked his liquor the way he liked his cocaine, and tried to escape from this hell by seeking the men who would give him the time of day.

It caught up to him. Obviously it did. It was a miracle it didn’t happen sooner. It was a miracle he didn’t die from it, really. But as much as people from these parts of town liked to say that they weren’t such a small city after all, the truth of the matter was that word still got around and the world could really be a small place. Therefore, his carefully constructed lie came tumbling down one day – one innocuous day – when he’d been out on the town, mentally distracted, wondering if he could sneak into some washroom for a hit of something or someone – walking the streets looking for his next stop, when a fine looking stranger came his way and Edward had looked him up and down, had walked up to him like he’d done mere moments ago with someone else, and had levelled him with a look and a phrase, asking him if he wanted to take this somewhere else, until the stranger gawked at him, took a step back and gave him the most disgusting of looks.

Edward realised his mistake seconds later – realised who it was he had approached when he recognised the cut of hair and the colour of the eyes and an apology and excuse were already forming in the back of his mind, ready to tell his girlfriend’s cousin that he had been merely playing a trick, but the damage was done, the illusion broken when the other spat on his feet, called him a fucking faggot and said that he’d always known that he was like that.

Edward had been frozen. Shocked solid. Unable to move. His heart racing. His mind reeling. “Wait until they find out,” He’d promised, sneer and malice written all over his face – and Edward had begged and pleaded, had offered anything and everything, but he was pushed back and kicked, left to gasp for air and for the shattered pieces of his carefully constructed lie and illusion.

He stayed there, half-lying half-sitting on cold pavement, convincing himself that this had been some dream – some nightmare – that he’d imagined it all – withdrawal from the drugs, but when his phone started ringing and he saw it was from his girlfriend, calling him at close to 2h30 in the morning, panic, bile and regret rose in his throat.

He ignored it. Ignored the next one. And ignored the onslaught of messages and calls from her and his parents alike until he threw his phone away as far as he could and he ran. Away. Afraid. Alone. He ran away without going very far. He ran away until he no longer knew where to go. He ran towards his next fix and his next hit. And he consumed. Flesh. Booze. Drugs. He tried to hide himself in it, now that his secret was out – now that everyone would know about his deviant ways.

He did it until his body gave up on him. Until his body said no more.

He was lucky he’d been found when he’d had, the doctor told him. Edward spat in his face as an answer.

That had been a little over three weeks ago. He’d been sent to this hell hole of a rehab center after he’d been “better” – but he would never be better. He craved. So much. He wanted. So much. He hated himself. So much.

The only saving grace was that he’d had no ID on him when they’d found him and he’d been able to convince the medics not to contact anyone. But instead of being freed, they’d locked him up in this jail for people like him and his problems only kept getting worse. Now he had therapy. Now he was meant to get better. Now he was meant to talk about his feelings. Deconstruct the toxic ideas he had been brought up with. Learn to forgive and love. Or some fucking bullshit like that and he wanted none of it. He wasn’t like the poster boy Étienne fucking Maisonneuve. He wasn’t here to hold hands and hear that “Everything would be okay” – he wanted out. From here. Permanently. And he would. The sooner the better.

“Chill man, I meant nothing by it,” Étienne didn’t even sound upset. He was level-headed and almost soft-spoken. Edward wondered what it would take to hear him scream. How he could break him. “I saw you struggling with your cigarette,” He added.

Edward bristled. He’d made a fool out of himself. Again. That was all he ever did. He felt embarrassed, “Forget it. I don’t want your fucking lighter anyways. I don’t associate with fags.” He wasn’t sure why he said it, but being out on this balcony with Étienne made him feel trapped. Again.

Edward turned on his heels, slammed the door behind him and returned to his room in this godforsaken hell hole. Far from kind eyes and gentle smiles, where he could hate himself in peace, like a real man would.

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #Edward Murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #ficlet #rehab au #tw: homophobia #lime lemon citrus family #idk where this is going ish #im sorry #forgive me for breaking this child #he needs a hug

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totally-tae · 6 years

Text

The Regular

Character: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: fluff, coffee shop!au, slight angst?

Word count: 5k

You’re working in a coffee shop and Namjoon visits frequently.

„Christie, I’m taking my break!“ I announce to my co-worker and start taking of my working apron.

“Alright, see you in a bit!” She replies while fixing another customer their coffee.

Almost naturally my gaze drifts over to a particular corner in our little shop. As usual one of our regulars is sitting over there reading hi….wait a minute! Was he just looking at me?

I stop and continue to fold my apron.

No that can’t be. I must be seeing things.

I make my way over to the staff room, but my gaze still lingers on him. Now he’s reading one of his books again and I can’t help but notice that he looks exhausted. Mostly he’s wearing casual, but still sort of trendy clothes. Today, he’s wearing a simple gray hoodie with unruly hair and jogging pants. It still looks hot though, maybe even more than usual. And no that didn’t mean I tend to look at him more than I should.

I sigh and finally manage to look where I’m actually going.

Whenever he is here, he’s reading, writing or doing something on his laptop. Ever since I noticed him (which had basically been the day I started working here), I told myself I would chat him up someday.

Well, guess who still didn’t gather the courage to do so.

The staff room door falls shut behind me and I lean against it, sighing. I’ve been working here for half a year, what was so hard to start a conversation with someone? Especially someone who is always reading a book you could start a conversation about? Right, being afraid of getting rejected.

He probably wouldn’t want to talk to me anyway. I mean he’s the most charming person ever when he orders his Iced Americano, but he obviously got stuff to do, so I would only bother him.

Having these thoughts, I spent my break eating lunch and checking my social media. When I come back to the counter, I glance at the corner again, but he is gone.

The next few weeks continue as usual, although I notice that our regular is not visiting as often as he used to. And every time he actually shows up, his orders of coffee and the dark circles under his eyes increase.

Today is one of these days and although he is a stranger, I can’t help but feel worried. Just a minute ago he ordered his third coffee, extra strong.

I chew on my lip as I prepare his order. Maybe I should ask him if he’s alright? After I finish making his coffee I take a look at the clock and walk over to Christie who is working with me again today. The shop is rather empty now, so I lean closer to her.

“Hey do you mind if I take my break right now?” I ask her in a muted voice.

She instantly turns and looks at me with huge, twinkling eyes.

“Are you going to talk to him?!” She exclaimed a little too loud for my taste.

“Shhhh!!” I put my hand over her mouth hastily and look around the shop. Phew, it seems like he didn’t hear it.

“I guess?” I shrug as I take my hand from her mouth, while giving her a warning look. “I mean he doesn’t look like he is doing very well, so I thought I’d at least ask him how he’s doing…”

“And you think he’d tell you?” She retorted and I rolled my eyes at her.

“No. But it’s the intention that counts!”

“Not when you want to get into his pants.” She smirked and I swatted at her arm.

“I don’t want to get into his pants!” I denied maybe a little too quickly. I felt heat rising to my cheeks and turned around, heading his way.

“Anyway if you need me, you know where you can find me.” I stated, making my way over to his table.

My feet slowed down as I neared his table. How should I start this conversation? I can’t just show up and ask him if he is stressed out or something. My eyes focused on the book he was holding in his hand.

“The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas?” I read out loud and he lowered his book to look at me.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, right. You know the book?” He asked me and I shook my head.

“No, only read the title out loud.” I admitted and felt the blush creeping up again.

I set his coffee down on the table and sat down on the seat on the opposite side of the table.

“So what is it about?”

“It’s just a short story. There is this town Omelas and everyone living there is happy and living a good life without anything bad happening to them, but then you find out the dark secret of the town’s happiness. There is a child trapped in small, dirty room living in constant fear and pain which somehow is what makes it possible for the rest of townspeople to live their happy, careless lifes.” He explains to me and I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“That’s heavy.” I frown and he nods, grabbing his coffee and taking a sip.

“It is, but sadly, not so far off from reality.” He says while looking out the window.

“I guess not your favourite book?”

“No, it’s a very good book, but it manages to drag you down a little.”

“Yeah, it does.”

A short moment of silence followed my sentence in which both of us seemed to think about what to say next. Still not daring to address the concerns I had about his wellbeing I spoke up again.

“So, you’re here pretty often? No Wi-Fi at home?” I joked and he chuckled.

“You’re not far off.” He joined my banter while leaning forward. “But no, I just find it easier to concentrate here.”

“Are you sure? With that amount of coffee you’ve been drinking lately, I kind of doubt it.” I managed to change the topic and he sighed.

“What are you, a psychic?” He sighed, nipping at his coffee again. “Just a little more work than usual, nothing special.”

I nodded and started to get up.

“You always seemed to unwind here...and I kind of want this to be your relax zone, so hit me up if you need anything.” I smiled, not sure what I was saying myself. Then I turned around and made my way back to the counter where I sat down the tray I had used to bring him his coffee. After that I rushed back to the staff room to spend the rest of my break hiding from customers, especially one.

After that encounter with our regular I thought about quitting my job and never returning to the shop, but before I could seriously consider doing that, he stopped showing up.

Maybe I really went too far by telling him I want this place to be his relax zone. I mean who says stuff like that?

I groaned and felt like hitting my head against a wall. No, I was not working today, but I was in a book shop, definitely a place where bumping your head against a wall would be inappropriate as well.

When our regular stopped visiting our café I had bought myself a copy of “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas” and he was right, it was an amazing short story. So now I was standing in front of a bunch of Murakami books and couldn’t decide which one I should buy. I only knew that he read something by Murakami once and since he seemed to have great taste in books, I figured I should give the author a shot as well.

“Hey!” I suddenly hear from my right and turn to see our missing customer standing in front me.

“Oh, hey!” I greet him and close the book I was skimming through. “Long time no see.”

Wait, he’s talking to me? So he wasn’t avoiding the shop because of what I said?

“Yeah, life’s been busy, so I had no time to stop by at the shop.” He explains with a guilty smile and I nod.

“That’s good!” I babbled before I could stop myself. “Uhm, you know that nothing bad happened.” I clarified and he chuckled.

“You were worried?” He questioned me in a more serious tone, the smile fading from his face and a frown appearing.

“Kind of. You didn’t look too well the last few times you were at the shop and since you used to come so often it kind of feels like we know each other, you know?” I told him with a more serious look on my face now, too.

“My name is Y/N by the way.” I added quickly when it dawned on me that we never formally introduced ourselves and extended my hand.

“Right, my name is Namjoon.” He replied and shook my hand. Maybe we shook them a little too long and when we realized we both let go awkwardly.

“So uhm…” Namjoon started and looked around the shop. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for a book.” I shrugged and held the one I was holding up. “I thought about getting one from Murakami, but I’m not sure which one.”

Namjoon only nodded when he heard that and took a look at the various books placed in front of us.

“Have you read some of his books already?” He asked and I shook my head.

“Then it’s easy.” He continued and extended his right arm to grab a book from the top shelf. The title read “Almost Transparent Blue”.

“This one is amazing. I read it a while back, but it’s one of my favourites. I’d recommend it to everyone I know.” He elaborated and handed it to me.

“Sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll?” I questioned him and raised a quizzical eyebrow after reading the short description on the back.

He raised his arms in defense.

“You don’t have to buy it, it’s only a recommendation.”

“I guess I’ll give it a shot.” I shrugged and a satisfied grin appeared on his face.

“Good choice.”

We made our way over to the cash point and I paid for the book. Only now I noticed that Namjoon also held a book in his hand, but I couldn’t read the title.

After we finished paying, we exited the shop.

“What are you doing now?” He asked me and I looked at him in surprise. I totally didn’t expect him to ask me that.

“I don’t really have any plans to be honest. What about you?”

“I should get back to work, but I could spare some time for a coffee if you’d like? My treat.”

“Sure! If you really can that is. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“No that’s fine. My job is pretty much like a freelancer at the moment, so don’t worry about it. It’s quite the opposite.” Hearing that made me feel more at ease about it, so we walked over to the nearest coffee shop we could find.

“Let me guess, you’re taking an iced Americano?” Of course I was right, he always orders one in our shop. “Then I’ll take one, too.”

We wait for our drinks and sit down at a cozy little table in the upper floor of the shop. We spent quite some time talking about whatever comes to our minds. Our favourite books, movies, music (a topic he seemed especially passionate about), hobbies and family.

Surprisingly there wasn’t even one moment of awkward silence. When the sun started setting we exited the shop and came to a stop outside the door.

“Wow, it’s getting dark already!” I exclaimed at the rosy view in front of us.

“Shit, you’re right! I’ll better get back to work now.” Namjoon said while scratching his head.

“Oh, sure, sorry I took up so much of your time.”

“No need to apologize for that. It was nice to get my thoughts off from work for a while.”

We exchanged phone numbers before we parted ways and I took the subway to get home.

The following weeks Namjoon was still busy and didn’t visit the shop very often, but after our encounter at the book shop we texted nearly every day. Christie was already teasing me about it constantly, but I brushed her off.

Until Namjoon invited me to a party.

“Come on Christie! I can’t go there on my own! And he said I could bring some friends!” I whined over the phone while Christe groaned.

“But I don’t even know anyone Y/N!”

“I don’t know anyone either! That’s why I need you!” I begged. “Also you can get to know new people much faster than I can, so forget complaining about that.”

“Fineee.” She finally agreed and I cheered, feeling relieved. “But I swear if you run off with Namjoon and I haven’t found an interesting person to chat with, I’ll be mad.”

“I doubt he’d even want to run off with me, but okay, I’ll ask for your permission first.” I chuckled and she laughed as well.

The days at work before the party we chatted about what we should wear, if there would be any cute guys, good food and drinks. And then the day of the party finally came. Christie had come over to my place so we could get ready together. I ended up wearing a classic little black dress, since Namjoon didn’t really tell me why they were having the party, so this was the safest option.

Christie went with a black mini skirt and a crop top. Then we searched for the public transport that would take us there and got going.

When we arrived at our destination, we were not standing in front of a normal building complex with apartments, but some company. Was this party related to his work? But he always somehow avoided talking about his work…

We rung the bell he told me to ring and waited anxiously while exchanging unnerved looks. This was different from what we expected. The door was opened and we went to the elevator and up to the 4th floor. Up there the music could be heard even before the elevator doors opened and I sighed in relief. Now that sounds like a party.

Still a little hesitant, we followed the music and ended up in a huge room filled with people. There were mostly young people, but also some older ones. Definitely work related.

I looked around the room in search for Namjoon, but couldn’t see him anywhere, so we went over to the bar. A drink would at least make it seem like we belonged here.

“I swear to god, I’ve heard BigHit somewhere before…” Christie mumbled and I frowned. When you own no television and don’t really catch up on mainstream media it was no surprise I didn’t know the name.

“Maybe something related to books? Since Namjoon reads a lot.” I shrugged and she shook her head.

“I doubt that.”

We stayed at the bar, continued to chat and watch more and more people arrive until someone tested a microphone. Just now we noticed the little stage like space at one end of the room.

“What is this party?” Christie whispered into my ear and all I could do was shrug again, after all I had no clue.

“Y/N! There you are!” I heard Namjoon’s familiar voice and seconds later he appeared next to me. In that exact moment the older man on the little stage cleared his throat.

“I really need to tell you something. Do you have a minute?” He asked in a hurry and I frowned.

“I promised not to leave my friend Christie alone, since she knows no one, sorry. But you can tell me here?” I suggested and he sighed.

“Not ideal, but I guess it will do.” He mumbled while the guy on stage started talking.

“Good evening everyone! We’re honored that all of you appeared here tonight to celebrate the success of the promotions of ‘You Never Walk Alone’!”

Promotions? You Never Walk Alone? Never heard of it.

“So you see…I never really told you what I work as right? And I guess you already figured out that this party is somehow work related. And the truth is I was so busy the last weeks, because we were promoting ‘You never Walk Alone’ our new album.”

Immediately I turned to him and stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, blurring out the man talking in the background.

“You’re a musician?!” I gasped and he nodded, unsure if my reaction was a positive or negative one.

“Yeah…” He admitted and frowned.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s just…I was surprised that you didn’t know at all and I didn’t want to ruin it and act like a jerk who thinks he’s cool because he is successful in the business.”

“Namjoon why would I think you’re a jerk?” I face palmed and he chuckled.

“Who knows?” He shrugged and I laughed it off.

Then music started playing in the background and I turned towards the stage again, where you could see some kind of music video.

“Is this one of your band mates?” I asked when a guy with a cute beanie and a blue cardigan appeared on the screen.

“Yep, that’s Taehyung. I’ll introduce you to them if you want, but I have to go now. See you later?” He questioned me with hopeful eyes and I nodded, then he disappeared into the crowd of people.

I continued to watch the music video and was surprised that Namjoon showed up as the very first person to rap. I was surprised by the sound of his voice and his looks. And we thought he looked stylish when he showed up in our coffee shop. Well, I would never wear a blazer over a sweater, but he looked amazing nonetheless.

The song itself was really calming and not at all what I was expecting from the kind of music Namjoon preferably listens to. Then I caught a glimpse of a word in the video. Omelas! So that’s what he’s been reading it for!

Now that I recognized the word, I tried to read into everything that was going on much more and at the end of the video I was impressed. I couldn’t believe Namjoon was part of this.

Then another video came up and the feeling was entirely different. The name was probably ‘Not Today’ they said that pretty often. But wait? Namjoon had purple hair? I didn’t even notice in the previous video! But he had brown hair now, didn’t he?

The video ended as fast as the first one and I turned to Christie in awe.

“Was that…Namjoon?” She asked in confusion and I nodded slowly.

“Yeah, he just told me he is a musician. Judging from the amount of people here they must be huge! Do we live under a rock or something?!” I complained. I really needed to buy a TV. Like tomorrow.

“You definitely do. I’m more disappointed in myself. I even heard of them, but never looked up their stuff. What the hell.” Christie joined in and we went back to the bar to get another drink.

Then the band got called up on stage and they thanked everyone in the team who worked on the album with them.

Only now I had the chance in to take in Namjoon’s appearance. He looked smoking hot!! How could he look better every single time I saw him?

“Ok, now it’s obvious he’s an idol. All of them are so hot. Y/N you need to introduce me to at least one of them.” Christie insisted and I sighed.

“I don’t even know them myself. And if they’re idols they probably have a dating ban, so don’t get your hopes up.”

She looked at me with concern in her eyes.

“I never got my hopes up okay.” I clarified and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, right.”

In the meanwhile the boys had left the stage and were talking to some of the people in the crowd. I didn’t really want to get in Namjoon’s way and, as Christie pointed out, my hopes up. So we just walked around the decorated room, grabbed some food and then went over to the dance floor.

After a while someone tapped me on the shoulder and I was greeted by Namjoon’s smile.

“Enjoying yourself?” He questioned me and I nodded.

“A little isolated, but we’re having fun.” I joked. “Join us?”

“Nah, I’m not really a dancer.”

“…You’re an idol…?” Christie chimed in and Namjoon shrugged.

“I am, but did you watch the videos just now? Definitely not the best dancer out there.” He continued and I sighed.

“There is no skill level needed to dance with us though.” I countered, but he shook his head.

“I’ll pass for now, but how about I introduce you to the others?” He suggested and of course we agreed, so we followed him over to where the boys were chatting among themselves right now.

“Hey guys! This Y/N and Christie, they work at the coffe shop I usually go to.”

“Oh the girl you…” One of them started, but Namjoon cut in.

“Yes the one I told you I invited to the party.” He stated with a glare and the guy laughed. If I remembered right it was the one with the blue cardigan in the first video.

“Hey! It’s so nice to meet you. Namjoon never told us he had a band.” I greeted them awkwardly and they looked at him, acting offended.

“Wow, are you ashamed of us?” “What did we do to you?” “I’m so disappointed!”

Christie and I laughed and the guys laughed as well. Then Namjoon introduced them one by one and we talked about their music, how long they’ve been together, how long they trained, all that stuff.

At some point I needed to use the restroom, so I excused myself. Before I could rejoin the group however I was caught by Namjoon.

“Hey, can we talk right now? The boys are taking care of Christie, don’t worry” He added when he noticed my concerned look. I couldn’t fathom what he’d want to talk to me about, so I agreed.

We left the room and walked down the hallways, until Namjoon opened the door to a small room.

“A studio?” I asked while looking around.

“My studio.” He explained and I gasped.

“Nice.” I stated while inspecting the room. “A lot of figurines.”

“Oh, yeah, do you think it’s too much?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s your studio anyway, right?” I encouraged him and he seemed relieved that I didn’t mind them. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“Nothing in particular. I only wanted to show you some more music. Maybe some of my solo stuff if you want? I mean ‘Spring Day’ and ‘Not Today’ are good, but it doesn’t cover everything we’ve done.”

“I’d love that!”

We sat down in front of his desk and he opened up some files. Their biggest hits and some tracks of his mixtape. Every single song was incredible.

“Ok now I feel like a potato next to you.” I sighed and leaned back into my chair.

“Don’t say that. There are many things you’re better at than I will ever be.” He tried to cheer me up, but I was having none of it.

“Making coffee isn’t the same as creating amazingly beautiful and emotional music. I’ve never seen anyone crying, because they’ve tasted a cup of coffee.” I rolled my eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be work related you know.” He sighed and I shrugged, remaining silent. “We’ll just agree on the fact that you’re great, ok?”

I agreed in defeat and then remembered something.

“Oh, right! I saw an Omelas sign in one of the music videos! Don’t tell me you read the book for that?” I inquired and he chuckled.

“You noticed? I told you it was work related. We have a consistent background story going on in most of our MVs, but it would be too much to explain it to you now.”

“I have time.” I stated and Namjoon laughed.

“As much as I’d like to spend more time alone with you, I still have to show up at the party again or rumors will start circulating.” Ouch.

“Sure…” I mumbled, trying my best to conceal the stinging pain in my chest. Not getting my hopes up had worked really well.

We left Namjoon’s studio behind and and rejoined the others at the actual party location. I noticed Christie chatting happily with Jin and ventured out to the bar by myself where I got another drink. It didn’t take long until another person showed up behind me. Hoseok.

“Hey are you alright?” He asked me with a frown and I smiled at him.

“Sure, I’m fine, why?”

“I don’t know, you seemed unhappy when you came back, so I thought I’d ask.” He shrugged and sat down next to me.

“No, it’s all good.” I insisted, but he was having none of it.

“Did Namjoon say something to you?” He hit the bull’s eye and I sighed. “Look, I don’t know what he said and I don’t want to pry, but I know he appears all smooth and good with words, but when he’s nervous he’s not. I bet whatever he said he only wanted to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” I furrowed my brows and he grinned.

“Our Armys can get a little wild.” He said and slid off his seat. “Cheer up, ok?”

And with that he disappeared again.

I stayed at the bar for quite a while and tried to sort out my thoughts. Just when I thought I finally managed to do so, Christie and Namjoon appeared.

“There you are! We were searching for you everywhere!” Christe exclaimed and hugged me, clearly a little tipsy.

“Oh, sorry. I only got another drink.” I told them and raised my glass.

“So, the boys and I were planning on taking this party home with some close friends. Do you want to come?” Namjoon suggested and I thought about it for a while.

“Do you want to Christe?” I asked and she nodded eagerly.

“Sure, why not.” I shrugged and not long after we found ourselves in a van driving to their dorm.

Of course not everyone had fit into one van, so we were divided into groups. There was Taehyung, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Christie, me and two others I didn’t know the names of in the van. Music was playing and everybody was having a good time.

A short time later we parked in an underground parking lot and all of us squeezed into the elevator. The boy’s dorm was tidy and even a little bit decorated. They definitely prepared for this. Taehyung proposed a little house tour for us and we found ourselves wandering through their various rooms.

“Wouldn’t have expected you guys to be so tidy.” Christie pointed out and Taehyung chuckled.

“Hobi is very diligent about us tidying, so we have no choice.”

We walked through a few more rooms until Taehyung opened the door to his own room.

“This is Namjoon’s and my room.” He announced and I looked at the pile of stuffed toys.

“Don’t tell me these are Namjoon’s.” I laughed and Taehyung grinned.

“Ok, I won’t.” He joked and told us that they were rarely home anyway.

After that we walked back into the now packed living room. Christie and I stayed for a few more hours, but decided it was time to leave before it got too late.

“Let me walk you home?” Namjoon asked when they found out that Christie didn’t live too far from their dorm and I had to walk a little longer on my own.

“You don’t have to. I can just take a taxi. No need to leave your own party for that.” I smiled and he shook his head.

“It’s not that I have to, I want to.” He insisted and I sighed, giving in.

We walked up to where Christie lived together and then it was only me and Namjoon.

“So…” I started.

“So?”

“Not afraid of being seen outside with me?” I teased and he looked at me with shock in his eyes. “You know rumors and stuff.” I added hastily and he frowned.

“Yeah Hobi told me you weren’t happy that I said that.”

“He told you?!” I asked. Wow, I’ll never tell Hoseok about my feelings ever again.

“I asked where he’s been and he said he checked on you and I asked why, that’s all. He probably knew I was worried.”

“About what?” I questioned him and he shrugged.

“About you.”

“Why?”

“Look I’m not dumb, I notice when you’re acting strange as well. Of course I get worried.” He clarified and I looked to the ground. Sometimes it really sucked that I couldn’t hide my feelings very well. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings when I said that. I just know that dating as an idol isn’t the best thing to do. And you’d suffer because of it more than I would.”

“Wait, what?!”

Namjoon stopped and I turned around to look at him in the faint street light.

“I like you. From the very first moment I saw you in the coffee shop I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. I planned on asking you out long ago and when you approached me and we met in the book store…I just knew it was now or never. But you saw that I have close to no time to spend with you, so I thought it would be better not to say anything.”

I stood there in disbelief. My eyes wide, mind blank and a pounding heart.

“Probably shouldn’t have said that…” Namjoon said while scratching the back of his head and started to walk again, but I grabbed his hand. He stopped and turned back towards me, but I still didn’t know what to say.

“So…you’re saying you want to…date me?” I asked quietly and slowly raised my eyes to meet his soft gaze. He nodded quietly.

“I’d like that very much.”

A grin formed on Namjoon’s face and he leaned forward to seal my lips with his.

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ricekrispyjoints · 6 years

Text

author about me

Tagged by @frenchibi !!!

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

no it’s not about weed my dad used to call me ricekrispies because of how easily i can crack a lot of my joints. he said i “snap crackle and pop”. so that’s me !

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback? (bookmarks/subscriptions/hits/kudos)

my absolute fave iwaoi piece that i’ve written, Learning to Walk (So that We Can Run) i’m so proud of it and so glad that it’s gotten so much love

3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

it’s a manga cap of oikawa going “so fun~” bc i love my son xD

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

i’ve had a few people who will like, go through and read all my stuff in one go? and tbh i don’t get a lot of comments so really my favorite is everyone who decides to actually comment xD

5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

There’s like. so many. i have literally over a hundred haikyuu fics bookmarked alone.

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

according to ao3 i have 12 pages of subscriptions xD some of those have been abandoned i fear but i refuse to unsubscribe in case they return from the dead! bookmarks i have..... idk probably about 200 across all fandoms? the majority of that is haikyuu, but my yoi collection is growing.

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

i’m not really sure... lately i’ve been working on a lot of trans hc’s, but of my published stuff idk if there’s really a pattern

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

116 user subs, 1936 bookmarks

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

at this point i’ve already crossed into writing smut, which was like fear #1 xD

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

I just want to get more stuff written and published! i have so many more ideas than what i’ve actually put out there because I tend to bite off more than i can chew with some AUs...

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

i feel like i write majority iwaoi but of my published stuff it’s only 5/14 haikyuu fics?? xD my drafts folder, on the other hand.... i have a couple “rarepair” ships that i’ve written for (kurodai, hanamatsu) but i think the majority is popular ships

12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

19 (but i orphaned a bunch of old johnlock fics lolll): 14 haikyuu, 3 snk, 2 yoi

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

uhhh 122 for fanfic, 84 original

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

usually write them down, but sometimes i like to leave them in my head while i kind of play with different ideas, before it becomes a solid story

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

not yet, but @frenchibi and i are gonna do something together !!

16. How did you discover AO3?

probably through tumblr? bc i was living my life on ff.net until suddently ao3 was like. everywhere xD

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3?

lmao no not at all xD

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

pfft no

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

i don’t really remember? i’ve been writing (non-fandom) since i was a kid, but i don’t know what got me started. childhood is kinda hazy for me D: now, my friends have been a huge inspiration to keep me going, helped beta things for me, bounce ideas around... that kind of thing :)

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

start small. i mean yes, there are people who are successful at like “this is my first fic ever! it’s an 80k wip!!” but i highly recommend starting with shorter stuff. get a feel for world building, character development (esp if it’s original writing!), and oh my gosh endings ?? the worst.

also just write what you love. if you want to hc everyone in the entire show as a bunch of trans gay people, then do it. who cares if that’s “unrealistic”. who cares! if it makes you happy, do it.

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

depends. for short one shots, it’s usually like “oh what if this happened!” and then i just write it all out. for longer things or multi-chapters, i like to outline where i’m going, major plot points, etc. for my longest fic to date (152k) i had a separate like 20k document of backstory, character info, etc.

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

happily, no. i’ve had a couple of comments with like, suggestions or polite criticism, but never of the work in general and always really kind and well-meaning.

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

smut continues to be a challenge, tho i like to think i’m getting better at it? and angst. i love to read it, but i don’t think i’m so good at writing it.

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

currently editing my nanowrimo project, rising, which i have now posted chapter 1 of!

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

i have so many pans in the fire it’s crazy but i do prioritize one particular story at a time

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

honestly no. during nanowrimo i did, but i’m in grad school and unfortunately personal writing has taken a back seat to that

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

oh my gosh yes yes yes. a million times. i started when i was like. a child. i have read some of my old stuff and Y I K E S. cringey.

28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written?

definitely my knee surgery recovery fic, but followed closely by an original piece i wrote about my mental illness.

29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written?

um anything i wrote for the bbc sherlock fandom i orphaned many moons ago. xD

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

i want to get back into a little of my original stuff again, but hopefully continue writing fanfic.

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

sometimes when you just get into the flow of it and it feels like no time has passed but you’ve written like 4k in one go xD

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

endings. i don’t know how to finish a story. two of my nanowrimo projects (original fiction) just. are sitting on my comp. unfinished. it hurts :(

33. Why do you write?

because i think language is amazing and i like bending it to what i want to express

thank you so much for tagging me, this was fun and a great way to procrastinate my homework

i don’t really know a lot of authors?? so if you are an author and want to do this, i am officially tagging you :D

#my writing #tag games #about me

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aegyotrashcan · 7 years

Text

A Broken Heart

Character: Jungkook (BTS) Word count: 2497 Summary: Young Jungkook finds out one weekend what a broken heart really feels like | #fluff #babysitter!au

Related stories: You’re Like a Butterfly | Save Me, Save Me

a/n: omg these babysitter stories are so fun to write! baby bts are so cute I can’t ;;w;;

On Monday, Jungkook's parents received word that his father's mother was ill. Jungkook knew that something sad was happening, judging by the long faces and somber mood after they got that phone call. But the cartoons playing on t.v. were too distracting, the bright colours and flashing images seeming more important to the child. Later that night, while being tucked into bed, Seokjin took charge of bedtime stories.

On the bottom bunk, the three youngest were cuddled together: Jungkook and his brothers, Taehyung and Jimin.

"What story do you want me to read?" Jin's smile looked forced, not quite reaching his eyes. Out of everyone, he had spent the most time with his grandmother. Of course, that could be because he was the first born grandchild. Their bond was seen as unbreakable, except now it was under threat.

As he thumbed through the collection of children's books on the shelf, Jin heard Jimin speak up.

"Hyung? What's wrong with Granny?"

His broad shoulders slumped. "It's kind of a sad story, Chimchim. Do you really want to hear it?"

Taehyung spoke next. "Yeah, I wanna hear it too! Why are Mom and Dad so sad?" He tried sitting up but Jin gently pushed him back down, fixing the covers over the three. As he brushed Jungkook's fluffy hair back, he told them, "Okay, I'll tell you. Granny is really sick. She has something called cancer and it's a very bad thing -"

"I've heard of that!" Jungkook interrupts. "My teacher had it and never came back. We had to get a new teacher!"

"Does that mean we have to get a new Granny?" Taehyung asks.

"No, it doesn't work like that. If Granny's gone, then she can never be replaced. Mom and Dad are going to be at the hospital all this weekend, visiting her, so Y/N is going to babysit us."

Jungkook gasps, eyes lighting up. Just that act alone showed Jin how young he was, how incapable he was of grasping the situation.

"Do you think Y/N will let us watch cartoons all weekend?" Jimin whispers into Taehyung's ear, trying to be sneaky. "And let us play outside, even when it's dark?"

With another smile, Jin once more fixed their blanket. "Now that I told a sad story, I want to tell a happy one. To send you off to sleep with warm thoughts. What about the story of the Prince and Princess?" He didn't let them answer, pulling the book from the shelf and delving into the story before they could try to stop him. Although the youngest boys drifted off easily, dreaming of gallant knights and beautiful princesses, the rest of the family did not sleep so easy that Monday night.

Or any night that week.

"IT'S FRIDAY!" Jimin shouts. "Noona's coming ~"

"For the whole weekend," Taehyung exclaims, spreading his arms wide to show just how big the "whole weekend" was. The two continued their playful banter, playing games and happily waving their parents off. The only one missing to say goodbye was Jungkook, who had locked himself up in his room the second he came home.

Although excited to see you, he was nervous. Butterflies swirled in his tummy, that he clutched at, half wondering if he would die from them. He watched from the window as his parents pulled away in their car, before getting to work. Jungkook fixed his white school shirt, setting his tie straight and spitting on a cloth to clean his shoes with. He looked so cool and mature in no time, ready to face you and hoping you'll notice his thought out appearance.

He raced to the window, peering out to see if you were here yet.

And you were.

Only he couldn't find it in himself to smile, to feel happy or run downstairs in joy. You got out of a boy's car, smushing your mouth to his in what grown ups call a "kiss." Disgusting, revolting and ... What was that feeling? Jungkook clutched at his chest, where Namjoon told him his heart was. He remembered his older brother's explanation of what a heart was; "It pumps blood around the body but many people use it figuratively as well. When you're sad, you call it a "broken heart.""

Is this what a broken heart feels like?

For the first time since you became the family's babysitter, Jungkook did not run to you. Jimin and Taehyung instead attached themselves to your side, speaking at the same time, asking if they could have ice cream or play, you think. It was hard to understand them. Namjoon greeted you next, followed by Jin and Hoseok. You assumed Yoongi was up in his room, like he always was.

However, the youngest was no where to be seen.

"Seokjin, where's Kookie?"

"He's in his room. He ran up there when he came home and hasn't come out."

You frowned. "Oh, do you think it's because of ... " You trailed off, not knowing how to word it. How do you casually bring up a sick grandmother?

Jin shrugged, face falling. "I don't know, I don't think he understands. The younger ones don't really get it, I don't think."

"Ah, they're still young I suppose."

"It's probably good. At least they can still smile easily."

After promising Jimin and Taehyung an ice cream later, they unattached themselves from you and ran off to play. Now free, you cautiously went to Jungkook's room. Knocking softly, you called out, "Kookie?"

There was no response.

"Kook?"

Pushing the door open, you found him with his back turned to the door, roughly sticking Lego blocks together.

"Oh, Kookie! Are you too busy playing to come say hi to me?"

"Yes!" He scooted away when you came closer, to sit where he once was. Now he faced you, cheeks puffed and lower lip jutted out. "I'm not your friend anymore, so just go away."

"Why?" Children throwing tantrums wasn't new, but they always stemmed from a reason. What had you done? You had only just arrived?

Jungkook shrugged, stooping his head and frowning down at the red block in his hand. You didn't love him. You only pretended to, cuddling him and kissing his nose to make him smile. Did you do that for the other boy? Did you give him orange juice and push him on the swing? The betrayal stung in his heart.

"Are you sad, Kookie?"

He nodded.

You wondered if the news about his grandmother had hit him harder than Jin knew. Jungkook had always been bad at expressing himself. You could sense that sometimes he wanted to show affection to his brothers but would show this instead through punching and kicking. Jimin was especially upset by this but you had no doubt that as he got older, he would understand more that this was Jungkook's way of showing love.

"What's making you sad?" you queried.

Another shrug.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shrugged again before saying, "Please, just leave me alone."

Saturday was much the same.

The older boys were resigned, mostly wearing smiles around the younger ones. When it was just them alone with you, their smiles dropped.

"I hope Gran's going to be okay," Namjoon muttered sadly.

Yoongi said nothing but his eyes said everything. He was the most distant of the brothers, always staying away from you. Namjoon claimed it was hormones from puberty, "He's started growing hair in weird places recently" the young teen had informed you before. However, the more you observed Yoongi, the more you noticed his little ticks. They showed how he truly felt, more than words ever could.

And he was devastated about the news.

"Noona ~ " Jimin bound into the kitchen from the backyard, grass stains on his trousers. "Can I have a treat?" Out of all the boys, he was the chubbiest. He was always so soft and fun to hug, that you could never deny his requests.

"Of course, Jimin, come here." He plopped himself on your lap, swinging his legs when you pulled a chocolate sweet from your pocket. He unwrapped it and devoured it slowly, savouring the taste. Usually, your lap was a throne only for Jungkook. But after breakfast, he had quickly retreated back to his room.

"Jimin?" Jin speaks up. "Do you know what's wrong with our baby Jungkook?"

Gasping, Jimin dramatically looked around before making a zipper motion over his lips. "He made me promise not to tell!"

"You won't tell us? Never ever?"

Adamantly, he shook his head. "No! I pinky promised!"

"Would you tell us for more chocolate?" Yoongi pipes up. His voice had started cracking weeks ago, leaving him sounding far more mature than his years. His voice was as deep as his dads and all his brothers combined. Hoseok, sat next to him, picked up on his trail of thought. "Noona will give you one hundred chocolates if you tell us!"

Jimin's eyes lit up and faster than lightening he spat out, "Jungkook's jealous!"

His voice was loud, loud enough to draw in Taehyung from outside and for Jungkook to shoot out of his bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Jealous of what?"

"He's jealous that Noona - "

Jungkook pounced, smothering back Jimin's words with his hands, face red and feeling more betrayed than ever. This was the worst weekend ever in his whole entire life! Taehyung stood by the back door, enough grass stains on his clothes to make Jimin's look clean.

"Noona," he says, "Jungkookie's jealous because you have a boyfriend!"

The sentence hung in the air. Then Hoseok's loud voice filled the silence; "Jealous? Does our baby brother have a crush?"

Turning even more red, Jungkook stomped his foot. "No! I hate girls! I hate Noona and I especially hate Noona's boyfriend!" He stormed off, with plans to run away formulating in his head. He would steal the cookies from the jar, bring his favourite teddy, and a pair of clean underwear. Then he would set out, on a journey to find a better family, one that wouldn't betray him like this.

The kitchen was alight with noise, most of it caused by Hoseok.

"Taehyung, Jimin, you both knew about his crush?" he asks.

Taehyung nods his fluffy head as he walks to him, gesturing to be picked up. Once on Hobi's lap, his face turns serious. "He says he's in love."

Jin clutches his chest. "That ... That's so cute! Who knew he was a romantic?!"

"That's not important," Taehyung frowns. Love was gross, frankly. Only one thing mattered in life. And that was chocolate. "Noona, I heard the deal you made with Chimchim. And I want in. I told you Jungkook's secret so I deserve ninety-five per cent of Jimin's share of chocolate."

"Hey, no fair! I would have said it but - "

As the two continued to bicker, you set Jimin gently back on the ground before trailing after Jungkook. His door had been left wide open and you could see him stomp from one end of the room to the other. His face had turned a deep shade of red and tears brimmed in his eyes. Embarrassment was the cause. Even as a child, you would turn teary eyed when you made a mistake or felt like you were being laughed at.

"Jungkook ~"

"Don't talk to me!"

His school bag was on the bed, his teddy hanging out. It seemed to watch the boy furiously grab things in his small hands. He held crayons and a blanket, necessities he quickly realised he would also require. Those too were shoved in the bag.

"Are you running away?"

"Yes! And don't try to stop me!"

You wanted to laugh. However, you knew that if you did, his embarrassment would only worsen. "Jungkook, why do you want to run away?"

"I hate you and everyone else!" He started to get choked up, imagining his life from now on. He hoped a new family would find him quickly, before his biscuit supply ran out.

"Saying things like that to your brothers is hurtful, Jungkook. They love you very much. And I do too." You sat by his packed bag on the bed. "We would never be able to smile again without you around."

"That's a lie," he sniffled. "You smiled for that boy."

"Who? Mingyu?"

"That's a stupid name," he commented childishly. It sounded like the name of someone ugly and gross, who Jungkook would never dare befriend. He bet that this "Mingyu" was so weird that he probably didn't eat nice things and liked broccoli and doing homework. Yeah, a definite weirdo.

"Mingyu, uh ... The boy that dropped me off yesterday is my boyfriend. He makes me happy and you'll find someone someday, that's your age, who will make your stomach fill with butterflies too."

"I make you happy, don't I Noona? We always watch cartoons together! Why do we have to be the same age?"

"Ah, I'm a little too big for you, Jungkook."

"What about when I'm big too?"

"You won't think about me then. When you're a big boy, you'll have made so many new friends and I know that you'll find someone perfect for you. Someone that's not me." You were keeping your tone soft while also speaking the truth. There was no point in leading the child on.

An adult dating a child was wrong. And by the time Jungkook would himself become an adult, a handsome one you didn't doubt, your job as a babysitter will long be over. His life will continue on, doing great things, making great memories, while yours continued too, on a different journey.

"That's not true." Stubbornly, Jungkook crossed his arms. His tears had vanished and so had his desire to run away. Sticking around won't be so bad, he reasoned. He'll beat Jimin and Taehyung up then as he becomes a grown up, with broad shoulders like Jin and a deep voice like Yoongi, he'll prove you wrong. He knows he'll never forget you and that you are his perfect person, the one he wants to watch cartoons with forever.

Sensing that his anger had subsided, you asked, "Do you want to come downstairs with me?" You stand up and he rushes to your side, burying his face into your hip. "I can make you hot chocolate, if you want?" you continue, patting his head.

He nodded. "But don't make any for the others! They're traitors!"

The atmosphere had lifted, even if it was at Jungkook's expense. The elder brothers were smiling again. Even Namjoon, who was being blamed for Jungkook's early knowledge of the opposite sex ("Noona, I bet he found what's on Hyung's computer!" "Shut up, Hoseok!") Yoongi joined the teasing too, his smiles all the more beautiful due to its rarity. It seemed that, for a moment, all troubles were forgotten and the family could laugh as one.

#bts #jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #babysitter!au #baby kookie #kpop #kpop scenarios #bts fluff #kpop fluff

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rxsmyers-a · 7 years

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Dem rules: Answer the questions asked by the tagger, then list 11 questions and tag 11 people to answer your questions.

Tagged by: @brooklynislandgirl

1. What have you done to overcome your fears?

Um, it depends on the fear. I’ve gone whitewater rafting through category 4 rapids in an inflatable kayak. I’ve hiked along paths barely wide enough for my feett. I’ve gone back to school despite having failed every previous attempt. I’ve said yes to an invitation from a friend I haven’t spoken to in nearly 10 years. So, I mean, in general I’ve just faced my fears head on? And not even always with a support net in place (if I’d fallen on that hike there was no rope to catch me) which is kind of exhilarating while being completely fucking terrifying.

So I guess I just face them head on? Sometimes with help (my parents and my psychiatrist have been super supportive of me going back to school).

2. What attracted you to your fandom in the first place?

I’m sure there are old followers who are getting tired of hearing this story. But. Vivian was conceived during a horrifically bad depressive episode (not to mention a medication withdrawal) when basically all I could do was lay on the couch/bed occasionally playing MCU films on repeat. In general I kept watching Thor and Avengers. In all truth, Thor’s abs were what first drew me into the MCU? (I was prepared to be a ‘I never read the comics but the comics are better’ snob before I saw Hemsworth shirtless.) I guess what drew me in was partly what makes me prefer Marvel to DC - I live near NYC, and the city is life to me, and always has been. Ever since I was a child NYC was the place where anything could happen. Adding superheroes to a place I loved just made it so much easier to imagine someone who shared my ‘weaknesses’ as being a part of their universe.

When I discovered there was an MCU RP community on tumbler, the rest was history.

3. Why did you choose a Canon over an OC {Or your OC over a Canon}, and which do you think is harder {if you have both}?

I have both. Though, to be honest, I’m closer to my OCs, mostly because I can get into their heads easier. What does Vivian like to eat? Anything I fucking say she does. Can anyone contradict me? Not at all. Though, the real reason I chose her over a canon character when I decided to start RPing on tumblr is because no one’s written a canon character with the mix of mental illnesses that I deal with, and Vivian was conceived while I was both massively depressed and suffering medication withdrawal. What I wanted, while I was suffering and miserable, was someone who felt my pain. Someone who knew what it felt like to go into withdrawal over medications meant to keep them stable. Someone who knew what my pain felt like. And there was no canon character to fit that bill.

That being said, I’ve written canon and OC, and I’m tired of the battle between the two. I know someone who insists that canons have it ‘easy’. That somehow there’s no effort to writing them. And I kind of want to smack them every time they say it, because that attitude is as bullshit as the idea that OCs are inherently easier than canons.

Both muses have their challenges. OCs will find it harder to find partners. They’ll be judged by unfair standards, especially if they’re female. They’ll be called ‘Mary Sues’ for no good reason or ‘Overpowered’ because they share the same traits as a male canon.

But canons have as much shit. You’e not ‘in character’ enough. Gods forbid there’s another person who plays your character (or another 20+ if you’re playing a popular character) because then you’ll be constantly compared to all the others. Unless you distinguish yourself as AU or canon divergent you’ll be criticized for every “out of character” choice you make - and even if you say you’re AU of canon divergent you’ll get the haters who can’t read. Don’t ship the popular ship for your character? Good luck finding people to RP with you. Canons are constantly measured against the source material and, more importantly, against fanon expectations.

4. If money were no object, what would be the one thing you’d buy to declare your nerd/fandom to the world?

Terry Pratchett’s original manuscripts for every Discworld novel. They would be my most treasured possessions. They’d live in an environmentally-controlled bookcase where people were allowed to look but not touch. (And of course upon my death I’d bequeath them to a museum.)

5. Tesla or Edison? Why?

Tesla because he loved pigeons and Tamora Pierce has given me a love of pigeons after her Beka Cooper books. Also he wanted to build a death ray and I can get behind that kind of thinking.

6. If you could trade one family member for a Character of any fandom/media type, who would it be, who would you replace, and why?

You didn’t specify immediate family so I’m going to trade one of the aunts I don’t actually know (my mother’s father had a family in Hungary before he fled to the US. Don’t feel bad for him, he was fleeing war crimes ahead of the Soviet invasion of Hungary) for, um..... Sandry. Sandrilene Fa Toren, of Emelan. Not only is she kind and giving and rich, she’s a stitch witch who would ensure I had beautifully fitting clothing that would never get dirty or wrinkled ever again. And for someone of my size, you don’t pass an opportunity like that up.

7. Brand New House…supernatural/otherworldly shenanigans, what do you do?

Call the Ghostbuters? I hear they have an all-female crew now.

8. Favourite Non-RP Hobby?

Knitting, usually while playing DnD or watching TV.

9. Where do you want to go on an all expenses paid 3 week holiday?

Europe. I’ve decided, after 4 years of Vivian having the same dream trip, that I want to go on it myself. (Said trip being a tour of all the major museums in Europe plus the cities that were the center of major art movements.)

10. Favourite childhood fairytale and why?

Beauty and the Beast. She likes books. He gives her a library. She becomes a princess. I fail to see the downside of this story. (My bestie and I have always loved Belle ever since the animated movie came out when we were 11. She was us. Weird, a bookworm, brunette... )

11. Do you believe destiny/fate?

Absolutely not. I think fate is what we make for ourselves. Do coincidence and happenstance exist? Yes, but they’re not fate.

New Questions: 1. You can choose three museums in the world to visit, and never visit any others. ��Which three do you choose? 2. Everyone is attacking your fandom fave. What do you say to defend them? 3. What shows/movies are in your ‘to watch’ list? 4. Do you drink alcohol? What’s your favorite beverage? If not, what’s your favorite alternative? 5. You’re at a deli. What do you order to eat? 6. You can only watch one TV show and one movie ever again. What are your choices? 7. Your fandom favorite is now your new roommate. What is your new life like? 8. Why did you choose to play the character you do? 9. For the next year, you can go anywhere in the world you want, all expenses paid. Where do you go, and why? 10. Vivian says you suck. Why does Vivian say you suck? 11. I’m running out of questions in case you can’t tell. Um. What fandom would you like to break into/cross over into, and why?

Tagged: @lucxsnorth, @soldierwithoutaname, @icekingloki, @acreatureofpureirony, @morethanicantell, @sinnhelmingr, @deweydeadcimal, @hellhuntin,

#did I include a question from Vivian on Ros' post #yes #do I care #no #repost blog

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