#i remember like. maybe 30 mins out of the last four hours :') | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Pride and Fidget Spinners (M)

Author: @kpopfanfictrash , as part of the You’ll Never Shop Alone (YNSA) collaboration with @underthejoon and @suga-kookiemonster

Creative Content Contributor: @underthejoon, for this amazing banner

Rating: 18+

Warnings: oral (female receiving), dirty talk, big dick (it’s seokjin, duh), everyone in this fic is a brat, seokjin talks about fair lending

Genre: Rom-Com / Smut / Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 18,623

Summary: Seokjin has always prided himself on being the top mall kiosk salesman. His turf, the spot nearest to the fountain, is due to him being the undisputed best in the game. At least, until you arrive and throw his world into chaos.

[ cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

I GET KNOCKED DOWN, BUT I GET UP AGAIN

YOU ARE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN

I GET KNO –

SLAP. Seokjin’s hand finds the buzzer, tuning off his alarm to burrow further under the covers. Sunlight streams through the open windows, pricking the back of his eyelids but Seokjin refuses to look. He can sleep for five more minutes. Five more minutes will not kill him.

Somewhere else in his apartment, a bedroom door slams. Wincing, Seokjin pulls his comforter higher. His roommate, Min Yoongi, spends most of his time annoyed with the world – but especially in the morning, and especially before having coffee. Loud banging continues, along with the sound of facial products hitting the sink. Groaning out loud, Seokjin pulls a pillow over his face.

Unfortunately, he is now awake and unable to slip back into his dream. It was a good one, too. Something about Iron Man and that hot barista at the mall Taehyung is crushing on. Squinting into his pillow, Seokjin abruptly sits up and tosses this on the floor.

“Fuck!” he yelps, throwing up a hand.

Every day, Seokjin somehow forgets to close his blinds before sleeping. Groping his way into the bathroom, Seokjin ruffles a hand through mussed morning hair. Turning on both taps in his shower, he waits for the water to warm and stares at himself in the mirror.

Clapping both hands to his face, Seokjin drags down the side of his cheeks. Getting older is weird.

Before he can get too hung up on this fact, Seokjin steps into the tub. “I GET KNOCKED DOWN,” he sings, lathering himself with soap. “BUT I GET UP AGAIN!”

Once out of the shower, dried and with a towel wrapped around his waist, Seokjin wanders into his closet. The sight dims his spirits a bit, seeing rows and rows of neatly pressed suits. Seokjin stares them each down in turn, knowing blinking is a weakness.

Reaching past them, he sighs.

The one at the front is navy, pin-striped and stares at him mockingly. Seokjin remembers wearing that one on his first day of work, nearly three years ago. He remembers how proud his parents were of him when he called them on his way home.

Seokjin’s heart sinks at the memory. That first phone call overlaps with another, less pleasant one. The one after his company decided to move their programming center out of his city. Seokjin was not one of the engineers selected to go. He was – rather unceremoniously – let go.

Let go. Seokjin snorts at the memory. Let go is such a nicer way to say fired. Fired has the ring of burnt smoke to it; it stinks of crumbling foundations and all hell breaking loose. If a company wants to yank one’s livelihood out from under them, Seokjin at least feels they should have the decency to call it what it is. Let go.

Shaking his head, Seokjin pushes past the suit to grab a white button-down. It has been nearly six months since that second call. Four months since his severance ran out and Seokjin realized he needed a job. Three months and three weeks since he began working at the Fidget Funk – even thinking the name makes Seokjin wince.

If someone had told him three years ago that he, Kim Seokjin, with his fancy degree and multiple years of experience, would ever be working a glorified mall job, Seokjin would have laughed in their face. He would have asked what they were smoking and if he could share – and yet. Here he is.

Frowning at himself in the mirror, Seokjin zips up his pants. Perhaps the worst part is that Seokjin was not upset when he was ‘let go.’ He was not actually disappointed by the firing, which disappointed his parents even more. When Bob and Karen from HR sat him down in that tiny, white room and handed him a tiny, white packet, Seokjin could not stop grinning.

His colleagues thought he had been kept when he left the room. That is how much Seokjin hated that company. His pure joy at finally leaving was enough to make up for the sucky way it happened.

Honestly, Seokjin was not surprised when he was fired. His entire last year he worked there, Seokjin spent most of his free time designing apps on his phone. No wonder they let him go, come to think of it. He was hardly their employee of the year.

Grabbing both wallet and keys, Seokjin shoves these into his pockets. Stepping into the hall, he glances at Yoongi’s room. “Yoongi!” he calls. No answer. “Hey! Min Yoongi!”

Continued silence, apart from the harsh thud of bass.

Leaning a shoulder against the wall, Seokjin tries again. “MIN YOONGI!”

The door at the end of the hall opens, hitting the wall. “What?” With a yawn, Yoongi drags a hand through his hair. Bleached blond strands fall about his face. “You said 10:00 AM. It’s 10:01.”

“Right.” Seokjin looks at him pointedly. “But I need to have the kiosk set up by 10:30, or else Bertha gets pissed.”

Yoongi walks past him and frowns. “Who’s Bertha? I don’t remember you working with anyone named Bertha.”

“I don’t.” Seokjin shrugs. Today is one of the rare days their work schedules lined up and – amazingly enough – Yoongi agreed to carpool. “Bertha is the name of my fidget spinner display. She’s temperamental.”

Yoongi groans, shutting the door. “Dude, you need to get a hobby.”

“I do have a hobby!”

“Then, get a girlfriend,” says Yoongi, sliding his keys from the lock. “You have way too much free time on your hands.”

“Do not,” Seokjin mutters, shoving both hands in his pockets as they walk to his car. “I’m working on loads of stuff.”

“Oh, really?” Yoongi flips his phone. “Which amazing app is it today? Let me guess. The one which meows every time a cat comes near? Or, the one which ranks all the apps in your phone from most to least used? Or, maybe –”

“Hey!” Cutting him off, Seokjin pulls open his car door. “You left out Alliterate! The handy app which suggests words which start with the same letter as yours – for casual alliteration.”

Yoongi stares over the roof of his car. “Dude, who would buy that?”

“English majors. Dramatic teenagers writing letters in the eighteenth century.”

“Seokjin.” Yoongi slides into the passenger seat. “You don’t give a fuck about any of these ideas, and therein lies your problem.”

“Oh, really?” Seokjin sticks his keys into the ignition. The car is sweltering, baking from having been left in the sun all morning. “Unlike you and your SoundCloud rapping?”

“Exactly unlike me and my SoundCloud rapping.” Grinning, Yoongi buckles his seatbelt and looks over at Seokjin. “Speaking of which – I have a new track to play.”

“No.”

Turning on the engine, Seokjin winces when a red warning light appears. He apparently needs an oil change soon but – with what money?

“Yes.” Yoongi reaches out, already hooking up his phone. “Just these two hooks, okay? Tell me which one you like more.”

Twelve minutes later, Seokjin pulls into his unofficial parking spot at the mall. “Will you look at that?” he says, turning off the engine. “We’re here! Time to go sell those fidgets!”

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi pushes open the door. Shoving his white Auntie Anne’s visor further up on his head, he glances around. “You’ll be sorry,” he says, slamming the door. “You’ll all be sorry!” Yoongi yells at the empty parking lot.

Patting him once on the back, Seokjin walks inside. “You know that I like your music.” Seokjin shivers when they both hit the AC. “More than like it, in fact. You’re too good and you know it – your head is inflated, and I have to take you down a peg.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, because all this pretzel rolling is inflating my ego. I’m basically Kanye, pre-Kim. Or Kanye, post-Kim. Say what you will about the guy, he’s remarkably consistent about how good he thinks he is.”

Snorting, Seokjin quiets when they pass by Kay Jewelers. Both men swerve to avoid eye contact, since they never know when what’s-her-name will be working. Seokjin makes a face. He always forgets her name, but the Kay Jewelers girl is usually after the dick of someone in the mall. Both he and Yoongi have been on the receiving end of that hunt before.

“Alright.” Coming to a stop at his kiosk, Seokjin lowers his gym bag to the ground. “Here is where I bid thee adieu.”

Yoongi continues walking. “Bye.”

“BYE, BEST FRIEND!” Seokjin yells, waving as Yoongi crosses the food court.

Several heads turn, and Seokjin continues waving until his roommate is gone. Grinning, Seokjin returns to his kiosk. Unlocking the metal grating, he pulls this up to reveal a brightly colored display. The morning routine is standard. Inventory, balancing the register, ensuring all displays are functional. Each time he passes the front, Seokjin sees his name on the register.

The kiosk’s top salesman, three months in a row.

It might seem like a silly thing to be proud of, but Seokjin is at a point in his life where everything has gone wrong. Everything he does seems to become a failure and even though he hates this job and hates these fidget spinners (okay, that’s harsh – no one hates fidget spinners), at least he can succeed at this one, small thing.

Selling shit to people they absolutely do not need.

Leaning against the counter, Seokjin crosses an ankle to wait. The mall opens on weekdays at 11:00 AM, prompt. Some places are open earlier – like Java Joe’s, the coffee shop, and maybe the gym – but Seokjin’s kiosk is standard mall hours. Rubbing his eyes, Seokjin glances longingly in the direction of Java Joe’s, but there are only five minutes until the mall opens. He needs to remain where he is.

Pulling his phone from his jacket, he shoots off a quick text.

Seokjin: yo [10:55 AM]

It takes a moment for Namjoon to respond.

Namjoon: what do you want? [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: nothing!!! [10:56 AM]

Namjoon: … [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: ok fine [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: I’ll come clean [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: are you doing the morning shift at T-Mobile [10:56 AM]

Namjoon: …. Yes [10:57 AM]

Namjoon: why? [10:57 AM]

Seokjin: do u think… on ur next break… u could bring me some coffee?? [10:57 AM]

Namjoon: get it yourself [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: pleaseeee Joon?? I never ask you for anything! [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: Chad called in sick, so I’m here all alone : ( [10:58 AM]

Namjoon: sigh. Fine – can you hang on until 1? [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: : ( [10:58 AM]

Namjoon: ur the worst but fine, I’ll try to get away sooner [10:59 AM]

Seokjin: THANKS JOON [10:59 AM]

Seokjin: grande iced Americano, no milk [10:59 AM]

Namjoon: u wouldn’t treat Yoongi like this [10:59 AM]

Seokjin snorts, shoving his phone in his pocket. He absolutely would treat Yoongi like this – problem is, Yoongi rarely responds. He usually spends his work breaks engrossed in his music. If anything, Seokjin is the one who brings coffee to him.

The first two hours pass by at a glacial pace. Seokjin regularly looks at his watch, wondering why the day is moving so slowly. True, it is a weekday but there is usually steady traffic. Stay at home parents and high school kids with nothing better to do than spend their summers at the mall, drinking Orange Julius’ next to the fountain.

It took Seokjin two months to convince his boss to put in for this spot. Next to the fountain is prime mall real estate, since you need to pass by it in order to reach anywhere else. Which is why it is strange that Seokjin has had zero customers.

He is still frowning when Namjoon appears at his workplace, iced coffee in hand. Namjoon wears his T-Mobile manager uniform, complete with a badge which declares his name and title. Kim Namjoon, Assistant Manager.

“Two?” Seokjin fake gasps, holding out a hand. “All for me?”

“Nope.” Namjoon only gives one to him. “One is for me.”

“Rude.” Seokjin sniffs, turning to survey the mall.

“What is? The fact that I brought you coffee?”

“Sure.”

Namjoon laughs. “What’s up with you today? You seem super distracted.”

Squinting at the fountain, Seokjin shakes his head. “I don’t know. Things have been so quiet today. Is there something going on? A deal at Woodbury mall, or something?”

“Hm.” Namjoon’s brow furrows. “Not that I know of, I – oh, wait.” He straightens, glancing across the food court. “When I was walking over here, I did see a new kiosk. Maybe they’re taking some of your customers?”

“A new kiosk?” Seokjin looks up in alarm. “Where?”

“There.” Namjoon points behind a browning, potted plant.

Seokjin peers in the direction Namjoon is pointing. In his line of vision stands a brand-spanking-new kiosk. The sides are all pristine, gleaming and white, with the kind of bright-colored accents designed to draw people in. Neat boxes of toys line the shelves, almost as pretty as Seokjin’s own display.

Groaning, Seokjin sinks to his kiosk. “Drones?” He glances at Namjoon. “How are fidget spinners supposed to compete with fucking drones?”

“Dunno.” Namjoon takes a sip of his coffee. “I first saw them this morning, but they’re getting pretty good business. Nearly tripped over their salesgirl on my way here. She’s cute,” he adds, glancing at Seokjin.

Seokjin glowers. “Cuter than me?”

“Maybe.” Namjoon shrugs.

“Impossible.” Seokjin glares in the direction of the kiosk. On one side, he can barely make out the shape of a worker and based on what he sees, Seokjin begrudgingly thinks Namjoon might be right. You could be cute.

Namjoon drains the rest of his cup. “Well. Gotta go,” he says cheerfully, clapping Seokjin on the back. “Breaks don’t last forever. Hope the rest of your day picks up.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin mutters. “Hope so, too.”

Namjoon leaves, returning the same way he came towards the T-Mobile store. Seokjin continues to glance at the competing kiosk, staring with envy at its remote-controlled helicopters.

Up until now, the competitive landscape at the mall has been easy. There is a guy on the second floor selling Proactive but other than that, Seokjin has never had real competition. Until now, it would seem.

Rather than be turned off by this fact, Seokjin tilts his head. The only reason he lasted as long as he did at his prior company is because of how competitive he is. Even if Seokjin does not care about the product, he still works tirelessly to be called number one. He should stop by and check out the competition – just to be certain there is no real risk.

Seokjin’s phone buzzes, revealing a text from his boss. Lisa will be here at 5:00 PM, meaning Seokjin only must hold out a few hours before he can see the new kiosk.

Only a few more hours until he knows what he is up against.

Lisa’s arrival at five means Seokjin is afforded a half-hour break. He uses this to grab food, bothering Yoongi at Auntie Anne’s before moving on. Dinnertime at the mall is typically crowded and Yoongi tends to throw mustard if Seokjin overstays his welcome.

Not wanting to ruin his button-down, Seokjin wanders in the direction of your kiosk. He eyes this as he approaches, finding the reality of the situation to be worse than he feared. The drones you stock are cool and what is more – they are all beautifully displayed. The stand might even rival Bertha.

Crossing both arms over his chest, Seokjin examines the kiosk. The products are neat, all of them aligned in carefully placed rows. The fingers on his right hand twitch, really wanting to touch the remote- controlled helicopters, but before he can move –

“Can I help you?” you ask, bright and cheerful. Seokjin flinches, gaze darting to you.

Fuck – seeing you up close, Seokjin’s jaw nearly hits the ground. You are gorgeous. There is no other word for it. The smile you give is infections; it makes him want to smile back. More than that – Seokjin finds himself wanting to be the reason for that smile, but no! Straightening his spine, Seokjin reminds himself that you are the competition.

Looking at you, his scowl deepens.

Your own smile falters. “Did you want me to take that one out?” you ask, pointing at the drone. “Show you how it works?”

Seokjin shrugs, as though he could not care less. “I’m not here to buy, actually.”

Now, it is your turn to look confused. “I – uh, okay.” You squint. “Then, why are you here?”

Seokjin realizes how creepy he sounds. In your eyes, he has wandered over, stared at your merchandise for a prolonged period of time and then announced he was not here to buy. A grade-A creep rivaled only by that one flasher who lurks in female footwear.

“Uh…” Backtracking, Seokjin jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I work at that kiosk, actually. I’m Seokjin.”

Unimpressed, you glance in this direction. “Y/N. And – uh, okay?”

“I stopped by to say hello. And to see what you’re selling.”

As he speaks, you read the name of his kiosk. Your upper lip twitches as slowly, you return to looking at him. Seokjin is unnerved by your smile. For some reason, he has the sinking suspicion he is the butt of your joke.

“Oh,” you say, tone entirely different. “That kiosk. Brandi mentioned you.”

“Brandi?”

“My boss.” You wave towards the middle-aged woman on the other side of the kiosk. Seokjin thinks he has seen her around before. “She said you’ve been selling pretty well the past couple of months. Great job.”

Seokjin tries not to seem smug – there is an undercurrent to your tone which screams subterfuge. “I mean, yeah,” he says carefully. “Things are going pretty well for us.”

“Strange, then.”

“What is?”

“Strange that we’re doing so much better than you.”

Someone could scrape Seokjin’s jaw off the dirty, child-scuffed floor. You smirk at him, tapping two fingers against the pretty, floral sleeve of your tunic. If Seokjin did not know better, he would think you were flirting with him.

Except you just fucking insulted him.

“I…” Shaking his head, Seokjin’s voice is strangled. “Mall traffic has been slow this morning. No big deal. I guess once you’ve been around longer, you’ll know that.”

“Hm.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know – things have been pretty crazy for us today. We already ran out of a product. Wild, right?”

Seokjin’s mouth dries, his ears starting to buzz – all evidence of his pure hatred of you. Obviously. It could not be anything else.

“You ran… out of something? Already?”

Seokjin’s voice squeaks on the last word, making him cringe.

“Not bad, huh? Although, I guess once we’ve ‘been around longer,’” you mock with a grin, “we’ll get more lulls. Must be nice.”

In the face of his clear disbelief, you have the nerve to wink.

Seokjin begins to see red. “Yeah,” he croaks, recovering himself. “Beginner’s luck is nice, too.”

Your smile disappears. “How long is your break? I don’t think my kiosk could afford to have me gone for so long.”

Not looking away, Seokjin shoves the rest of his pretzel in his mouth. Chewing exaggeratedly, he watches you wince. “Sorry,” he mumbles around cinnamon-sugar bread. “Thanks for the reminder. I do need to be getting back. Can’t have my kiosk without its top salesman.”

Nose wrinkled; you continue to stare. “If that’s your idea of finesse, I think they can manage without you.”

“Please.” Seokjin gives you a pointed look. “I’m literally dripping with finesse.”

Your lips twitch, suppressing the gesture. Seokjin is impressed by your stoicism, since he knows he is a good-looking guy. That much is a non-debatable fact. Even if it were not, he can see by the way your gaze lingers, that you like what you see. And still – when your gaze returns to his face, your expression is artfully composed.

Fuck, Seokjin realizes. You really are going to be competition.

“Is that all?” Blithely, you turn. “Did you just stop by to see how much better we’re doing?”

Seokjin scowls at your arguably perfect behind. “I came to see how much product you have left, yeah.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you grin. “Why? Worried we’ll sell out before you can buy?”

“No.” Undercutting his conviction, Seokjin glances again at the helicopter. “I’ve got my hands full, thanks.”

“Ri-ght.” You draw out the word. “Then, you should probably get back to the, uh – Fidget Funk.”

Seokjin’s ears turn red with embarrassment. “I will,” he blurts, spinning around on his heel. “You have fun at the Drone Dome – fuck,” he mutters, coming to a stop. “That’s actually such a cool name.”

Without waiting for a response, he stalks away. All the way across the food court, your laughter rings out behind him. Upon reaching his kiosk, Seokjin glances over his shoulder. You are not paying attention to him, already engaged with another customer and Seokjin’s stomach slowly sinks.

He might be in trouble – and in more ways than one.

Seokjin arrives the next day ready for battle.

Before, he was unprepared – caught off guard by your wily ways, but no longer! He is Kim Seokjin, crusader of goals and defender of the kiosk. The fact that Seokjin does not care about fidget spinners does not matter. They are his unfortunate chosen weapon and so, he will die upon this metaphorical sword.

Leaning against his kiosk, Seokjin spins a toy in one hand. Smiling and nodding at everyone who passes, he tries not to seem creepy or make eye contact for too long. This is the number one rule of kiosk sales – be deliberate, but approachable.

Most kiosk salespeople fail here, never ascending past the first stage of selling. They leer at shoppers, approaching women with earbuds in, or spraying perfume without asking. Not Seokjin. Seokjin is the very image of class, one ankle crossed over the other.

Seated at the food court is a large group of collegiate girls. At least, Seokjin assumes this based off one girl’s University sweatshirt. They sit clustered around Starbucks drinks (a slap in the face to Java Joe’s!), giggling every so often and glancing at Seokjin. Despite knowing they see him, Seokjin pretends not to care. Every so often, he pushes a hand through his hair and angles himself in the light.

Eventually, he knows one will come over and when they do, Seokjin will whip out the charm. A shadow steps into his path, blocking the sunlight.

Seokjin frowns. “Get out of the way,” he says, bored. “I almost have a sale.”

Arms crossed; you glance over a shoulder. The group of girls glare at you, clearly perturbed at having their view interrupted.

Snorting, you return to Seokjin. “Oh, please. So, what – you’re a pedophile, in addition to creep?”

Jerking upright, Seokjin scowls. “I am not a pedophile. I’m just trying to make a sale.”

“Of what kind?” you ask pleasantly.

“Fidget spinners.”

“Hm. Could’ve fooled me.”

Shrugging, you take a long sip of your coffee. Seokjin tries not to linger on the way your lips wrap around the straw.

I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says stiffly. “Now, move. You’re blocking my light.”

“Whatever,” you yawn, leaving. As you enter the food court, you give Seokjin an excellent view of your backside walking away. “We’ll still beat your sales target today, anyways!” you call back.

Glaring at your retreating head, Seokjin holds out for as long as he can before dropping his gaze to your ass. Waggling fingers over your shoulder, you disappear behind the potted plant. The college girls resume looking at him but now, Seokjin finds he does not care.

Really, he should be thanking you. As soon as you are gone, three of the girls wander up to his kiosk. Seokjin sells five fidget spinners in one hour, thanks to the jealousy your presence provoked. Rather than be pleased by this fact though, Seokjin becomes even more agitated. He does not like feeling in your debt.

The next time your shifts overlap, determined to get even, Seokjin switches tactics. He parks on the opposite end of the mall, necessitating he should walk by your kiosk. Yoongi complains about this, but Seokjin merely ignores him.

Slowing as he passes your kiosk, Seokjin waits for you to look up.

Both elbows leaned to the counter, you scroll casually through your phone. When your gaze flicks up, taking him in – you blink.

“Oh, come on,” you groan.

Waving to Yoongi, Seokjin veers in your direction. “Oh, hey!” He stops at your display, nonchalantly stretching his arms overhead. “Having a good morning?”

Gaze darting to his pants and back up, you almost seem flustered. “I – how tight are those jeans?”

Seokjin’s grin widens. “What, these old things?”

Turning around, Seokjin checks out his own ass, as though surprised by its appearance. He is rather proud of his legs, actually. There is a reason Seokjin spends so much time in the gym with Jungkook. His newly bought skinny jeans show off his best assets. Not to mention how satisfying it is to see you rendered speechless.

Your gaze returns to his, smoldering. “There’s a tag still in the pocket, genius.”

“Oh.” Grandly, Seokjin plucks this off – fuck, that just cost him an entire week of spending allowance. “Well, there you go. Wouldn’t want to distract from the view.”

Jaw clenched, you seem as though you want to say more, but hold yourself back. “Great.”

Seokjin smirks. “Isn’t it?”

Whirling around, you pretend to be busy but Seokjin can tell your register has already been counted.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your kiosk?” You glower, glancing over your shoulder. “I’d hate to waste any more of your time standing here.”

Seokjin’s grin broadens. “You’re right,” he agrees. “That’d be a shame. See you around, Y/N!”

Happily, he turns and walks back the food court. With each step his grin widens, imagining you watching him leave. The rest of his day is spent in lazy self-satisfaction.

As it turns out, Seokjin should have been warier. Your silence was not acceptance of defeat, but a determined self-call to arms. The very next day, Seokjin walks past your kiosk and nearly spills his drink down his shirt.

You stand off to the side, bent to display a generous amount of cleavage. Seokjin’s jaw drops, unable to look away. He realizes how inappropriate he is being when you look up and see him.

“Seokjin!” Straightening, you wave.

The action makes your breasts bounce, causing Seokjin’s pants to feel tighter.

Yoongi snorts at his side. “Good luck, man,” he says, patting Seokjin once on the back before walking away.

Seokjin is left alone, facing the wiles of his enemy.

“Hey,” you say, raising both brows. “Seokjin? Are you okay?”

Forcing himself to move, Seokjin walks robotically forward. He does not allow himself to look below your collarbone – fuck, you must be wearing a push-up bra. There is no other way a single day could cause such a dramatic transformation.

Unable to help himself, Seokjin sneaks another peek.

When he looks up, you are smirking at him. “See something you like?”

The tips of Seokjin’s ears turn crimson. “I – what?”

“The merchandise,” you say sweetly, waving a hand. “We just got in a few new toys over the weekend.”

Seokjin has no response to this, having momentarily forgotten what words are.

Your lips twitch. “Is something wrong, Seokjin?”

Seeing the teasing look in your eyes, Seokjin fumes. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, jaw snapping shut. “I’ll just be on my way, then. Lots of… fidgets to spin.”

Turning around, he dramatically walks off.

He cannot help but feel oddly unsettled, throat burning in a way which does not make sense. Anger, he tells himself. The emotion is merely annoyance. It is completely natural he would hate his competitor. Natural, for him to think about what their lips would look like shut up by his.

It takes two weeks for Seokjin to enact the next phase of his plan. Which is – dramatic entertainment. Basically, phase two involves Seokjin researching fidget spinner hand tricks for hours at a time on YouTube. It reaches to the point where Seokjin is in near hibernation. Jungkook sends him texts every so often, asking when he will return to the gym, but Seokjin is a man on a mission and cannot be stopped.

He starts off slowly, learning the simple fidget spinner hand transfer. Next is the hand twist, rated Difficulty Level Two by the most known YouTube star. From there, learning the around the back is easy. This maneuver is more complex – it involves Seokjin physically throwing the fidget spinner over his shoulder to catch in the other hand.

Once Seokjin can control two fidget spinners at once, he deems himself ready.

Phase two goes into action on a busy Saturday afternoon. Seokjin hijacks the Fidget Funk’s speakers, hooking up his iPhone to the horror of his co-worker, Lisa.

“Oh, no,” she groans. “Please tell me you aren’t doing what I think you’re doing.”

“Are you thinking I’m doing a fidget spinner trick show?” Seokjin adjusts the sweatband on his forehead. “Alright, then. I won’t tell you.”

“God, how embarrassing.” Lisa slumps low in her chair. “Well, at least do it before Chad gets here.”

“Noted. What song should I use?” Seokjin flips through his playlist. “Hero by Enrique Iglesias? Whatcha Say by Jason Derulo? The Cha Cha Slide?”

Lisa stares in disbelief. “What vibe are you going for, exactly?”

“None of those?” Seokjin frowns. “What about All Star by Smash Mouth?”

“How about Cotton Eyed Joe?” Lisa offers. “That seems more fitting with all of… this.”

Ignoring her sarcasm, Seokjin selects a song to press play. The first notes of Everybody by Backstreet Boys plays through the speakers. Lisa groans and slumps even lower.

At first, no one notices Seokjin at all. People sidestep him, focused solely on getting to the food court but then, Seokjin executes a perfect shoulder throw. A kid stops to watch. His mom stops too, trying to drag her kid forward but failing in her mission.

“Hey!” Seokjin beams, switching the spinner from one hand to the other. “Want to see more?”

The boy nods and before long, Seokjin has managed to gather a small crowd. Over the ooh’s and ahs of children, Seokjin converses with their moms.

“Fidget spinners are proven to help concentration in both kids and adults,” Seokjin says with a hand twist. “One of my friends was telling me a story the other day. He and this AVP at his office are both tactile people and remember better while doing something with their hands. So, they end up having this entire meeting while playing with fidget spinners from her office.”

The moms all laugh, moving forward to let their kids pick out a toy. By the time the day ends, Seokjin has beaten all previous sales records. He has also managed to capture the attention of most people in the mall – including you.

And Namjoon, who stops by before closing.

“Dude,” Namjoon laughs, leaning one arm to his kiosk. “Why are you being so extra lately? It’s just a temp job. Who cares?”

“I care, Namjoon.” Seokjin bristles. “Is it so wrong to want to do well at my work? To want to improve the sales of my peers. Frankly, Namjoon, I’m insulted you would –”

“Hey, Kim!” you yell, passing by. “Heard you’re trying to break into show business!”

Seokjin abruptly stops talking. “Trying?” he calls back. “I’m already there. Were you able to catch a performance?”

Rolling your eyes, you walk backwards. “Of course, I did! The whole fucking mall saw you, Seokjin. Your music was so loud, people physically moved in the food court.”

Seokjin’s grin widens. “What’d you think?”

“I think you should stick to sales.” Shaking your head, you try not to smile. “Anyways, just wait until you see what we’re doing this weekend. It’ll make your lame tricks look like nothing!”

“Can’t wait!” Seokjin cups both hands over his mouth. “I love to watch lofty dreams come crashing down!”

Shaking your head, you turn around and disappear into the mall. Once you are gone, Seokjin returns to Namjoon.

“What?” he blinks, seeing his friend’s smug expression.

Namjoon’s smile widens. “Oh, nothing.”

“What?”

Namjoon merely laughs, grabbing his smoothie and turning away. “Good luck with that, man!”

Seokjin stares after, not understanding but deciding it is not worth his while. Namjoon always thinks he knows so much – granted, he usually does, but that is not the point. The point is Seokjin does not and so, he should not worry about it now.

The next day is busy, which means Seokjin barely has time to consider the performance you mentioned. He is again covering for Lisa, who failed to show up. Chad and Seokjin are the only ones covering the kiosk, which Seokjin despises because Chad is his least favorite co-worker. Lisa may be flaky, but at least her presence is tolerable. Chad is always going off on tangents about who wronged him on Twitter that day, and why.

Chad is also terrible at customer service – no surprise – which means Seokjin must handle all returns and exchanges. A tedious task in itself, let alone with Chad’s monotonous voice in his ears. In fact, the morning is so busy, Seokjin barely remembers to eat, let alone visit you.

It is the sound of cheers over the food court which make him look up.

Midway through a transaction, Seokjin pauses to glance at your kiosk. You and your Manager – Brandi – stand before it, navigating two competing drones in the air. It seems several people are betting on which drone will win.

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin returns to his customer. Smiling blandly, he hands the woman her money and ignores the wild cheers growing steadily behind him. It makes Seokjin’s teeth grind, realizing you might be drawing a bigger crowd than he did.

Unable to stop himself, he peers over his shoulder. Seokjin’s eyes widen. Above the food court, a helicopter loops circles around a remote-controlled plane. They no longer seem to be racing, dive- bombing the crowd and swooping up at the last second. Kids squeal in excitement, running around underneath.

Seokjin scowls, slamming shut the register. His mind revolts at the knowledge that your show is better than his – also, there is the maddening fact that Seokjin wants a drone for himself. Huffing under his breath, Seokjin turns away.

Before he can tell Chad he is going on break, a scream pierces the crowd.

“MOVE!” Seokjin hears your voice above the rest. “KIDS, MOVE!”

Seokjin whirls around, spotting the helicopter spinning out of control. Kids duck from its path, their hands held overhead as the helicopter sputters, dips and sputters again. Steam curls from its top, clearly not responding to the remote you hold in one hand.

Worse than that, the drone is headed in their direction.

“Chad, move!” Seokjin yells, diving out of the way.

Chad looks up just in time to see the helicopter crash into their kiosk.

Fidget spinners fly every which way. From his spot on the floor, several hit Seokjin in the back of his legs – he winces, curling into himself. Chad’s sputtering continues above as the slow whir of helicopter blades begins to wind down.

Seokjin hesitantly looks up. The kiosk above him is chaos. Nothing seems to be broken, but his carefully placed display – Bertha! – is entirely out of whack. Brightly colored boxes lie on the floor, shelving hanging precariously off the sides of the kiosk.

You dash into view, skidding to a stop inches away from his nose. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, a useless remote held in one hand. “I don’t know what happened, I swear.”

Your gaze darts to Seokjin’s, still lying prostrate on the floor.

He slowly pushes himself to stand, staring in shock at the disastrous kiosk. Seokjin expects to feel angry. He should feel pissed, since all his hard work was erased and now, he will have to spend several hours cleaning it up, but – nothing.

Well, that is not entirely true.

Seokjin wishes he could wipe that look of distress from your face. “It’s alright,” he says, still looking at you.

Surprise flickers over your expression.

Chad steps out from behind the kiosk. “Oh… my… god,” he says, eyes wide.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeat, face twisted in agony.

Before you can continue, your manager appears. “Go back to the kiosk, Y/N,” she says, sighing. “There are a bunch of customers to take care of. I’ll handle this.”

It appears you wish to say more, but a stern look from Brandi is silencing. Giving Seokjin an apologetic look, you turn on your heel to walk across the food court.

Brandi waits until you are out of earshot before looking at Seokjin. “I’m sorry about the disruption,” she offers.

Seokjin tears his gaze away. “It’s okay.”

“What?!” Chad stomps out to point a finger at Brandi. “It is not okay! You and your dumb drones wrecked our display!”

Brandi looks at his finger, unimpressed. She glances at Seokjin. “You can throw that helicopter away. If anything of yours has been damaged, let me know. We’ll pay for it – just send me an itemized receipt by the end of the day, okay?”

Seokjin nods, a bit thrown by the interaction. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”

Brandi looks at him thankfully, turning around to return to her kiosk. Once she is gone, Chad whirls on Seokjin.

“Man, what the fuck?”

Bending, Seokjin picks up a lone fidget spinner. “What do you mean, what the fuck?”

“They should’ve…” Chad trails off, shaking his head. “Done more. I don’t know. They should’ve cleaned up the whole area, or something!”

Seokjin snorts, replacing the toy on the counter. “Relax,” he says. “It’s not like anything is seriously damaged. We just need to re-stock the display and besides, they don’t know how to do that. It’ll be faster if we do it.”

“Even so,” Chad mutters. He begins cleaning up, casting an angry glance in the direction of the Drone Dome. “They should still fucking pay.”

“They will, if anything’s broken,” Seokjin says simply.

He then tunes Chad out, putting himself to work. Re-stocking Bertha takes a while but, in the end, Seokjin is happier with its order. He keeps thinking you will stop by after your shift, but you do not. Perhaps you are too embarrassed to do so, or maybe Brandi warned you not to go near them again.

Whatever the reason, Seokjin cannot leave before closing. When he finally passes kiosk on his way to the gym, everything is closed, and you are nowhere in sight.

Seokjin lingers a moment before he moves on.

SLAM.

Seokjin drops his barbells, the sound echoing through the gym in a satisfying way. Several women on the elliptical look up in annoyance.

“Sorry!” Seokjin calls, wiping sweat from his neck.

Although the women continue to glare, they return to their workout. Jungkook snickers into the sleeve of his t-shirt, biceps bulging beneath the tight fit of his clothes. Pulling a power bar from his pocket, Jungkook waves at the weights Seokjin discarded.

“Give me ten more.”

Seokjin glares. “Go choke.”

“Can’t.” Unwrapping his snack, Jungkook takes a large bite. “Told my current hook-up that was just for her.”

“Gross.” Seokjin groans, bending to grab the weights. “I didn’t need to know that.”

Jungkook grins, displaying chocolate and teeth. “Ten more,” he repeats.

Despite several muttered curse words under his breath, Seokjin obeys. Dropping the weights again on the floor – in direct defiance of the no weight-dropping sign – Seokjin grabs his knees with both hands.

“Alright,” he huffs, squinting at Jungkook. “I don’t care anymore if I’m in shape. I care more about snacks. Snacks and alcohol.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that.” Jungkook takes another bite. “I’m using one of my free guest passes on you, so you better be worth it.”

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin takes a long swig from his water bottle. Despite this, he still follows Jungkook as they walk to the treadmills. Jungkook is right, he is doing Seokjin a favor by letting him work out for free. Truth be told, Seokjin hated Jungkook when he first began at the mall. Jungkook was young, good- looking and got tons of attention – male and female, alike.

He was the competition.

Over time though, this distrust dissolved and somehow, Jungkook is now one of Seokjin’s closest friends. When he is not annoying the hell out of him, that is.

Throwing his wrapper in the trash, Jungkook wipes both palms on his pants. “So.” Stepping onto a treadmill, he turns the speed to three. “How’s it going with drone girl?”

Seokjin follows suit. “She knocked over my display today.”

“Like, on purpose?”

“Nah.” Seokjin shakes his head. “On accident. She was doing a demo and one of the helicopter drones broke. Crashed into my kiosk.”

“Oh.” Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Still – annoying. Increase your speed.”

Seokjin obeys. “Eh,” he huffs, beginning to jog. “I don’t think it was on purpose. But still, she’s just so frustrating.”

“What’s frustrating? Increase your speed again to four.”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin says, following suit. “She’s frustrating. She has this way of looking at me, you know?”

“Looking at you in like, a creepy way?”

“No…” Seokjin’s feet pound the treadmill. “She’s a tease.”

“Sounds hot.”

“She keeps messing with me.”

“You keep messing with her.”

“She made fun of my fidget spinners!”

Jungkook bursts into laughter. To add insult to injury, he barely seems winded at all by their run and Seokjin is panting.

“Dude. Fidget spinners suck. I’ve heard you say that on multiple occasions.”

“Sure, but she doesn’t have to say that!”

“Whatever, bro.” Jungkook grins. “Sounds to me like you want to fuck her.”

Seokjin is so startled, he nearly trips on the treadmill. “I do not.”

“No judgement here! Do it once, get it out of your system.”

“I don’t want to fuck her, Jungkook.” Seokjin glares in his direction. “She hates me. And I hate her!”

“O-h,” Jungkook says knowingly. “So, you’re in love with her. I get it. Increase your speed to five.”

Seokjin obeys, face turning beet-red. “Jungkook,” he growls. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me.”

Reaching out, Seokjin turns the speed on Jungkook’s treadmill to eight.

“Hey!” Jungkook yelps, breaking into a sprint. He manages to keep up, pushing a hand through his hair. When Seokjin rolls his eyes, Jungkook grins. “Nailed it.”

Seokjin returns to his machine. “Besides, you’re one to talk,” he mutters. “Aren’t you in love with the juice girl, or something?”

On reflex, Jungkook glances over his shoulder. Seokjin can tell by his lovesick expression he is right. Juice girl only started working recently at the gym and from what Seokjin can tell, Jungkook is entirely smitten. He has never been subtle about the women he likes, but with juice girl, Jungkook seems to have met his match.

She is completely immune to his charms. Seokjin cannot help but feel sympathy for the guy. Or – at least, he does until Jungkook returns to him with a grin.

“So.” He wriggles his eyebrows. “How hot is kiosk girl, anyways?”

“No.” Seokjin reaches out to increase Jungkook’s incline. “You’re not going to fuck my mortal enemy.”

“Well, if you’re not going to.”

“Think about juice girl!” Seokjin yells – entirely unintentional, but he is running out of breath.

Jungkook retaliates by upping his speed. By the end of their sprint, Seokjin feels like collapsing. He steps off his treadmill with wobbly legs, feeling as though he has just run a marathon. Not that Seokjin would ever run a marathon, of course, but he can imagine. Jungkook follows suit, hopping down from his machine.

“Good workout.” Jungkook wipes his forehead with a towel. “Wanna come over and hang? Hoseok from Foot Locker is gonna come, too.”

Seokjin nods, taking a sip from his water bottle. “Yeah, okay.” He glances again at the door, but your kiosk is too far to see. “Sounds good to me.”

As they walk towards the locker rooms, Jungkook chatters aimlessly but Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you. While he showers and changes, Jungkook’s words replay in his mind. The idea of Seokjin having a crush on you is insane. The two of you have barely exchanged one nice word since you met.

Still. Snapping a towel free from his neck, Seokjin continues to wonder. He does think about you an awful lot. Usually, he is thinking of new ways to annoy you, but that is more than he thinks about anyone else. Chad, for instance – or Lisa.

Frowning, Seokjin slams shut his locker. He cannot ignore the initial attraction he had for you. If you had not been his competition, Seokjin would have probably asked you out.

The moment he thinks this, he freezes. Maybe this is why you annoy him so much – Seokjin is attracted to you and can do nothing about it.

Under any other set of circumstances, this fact would be enlightening but things being what they are though, nothing has changed. You still hate him. Seokjin still finds you his competition.

Staring at his locker, Seokjin’s lips twist.

“Seokjin!” Jungkook yells from the door. “You coming, or what?”

Jerking himself free from his thoughts, Seokjin picks up his bag. “Coming!” he yells, pushing you from his mind.

Seokjin has the next two days off work. He uses this mainly to work on his apps, pouring time and energy into working the kinks from his latest round of updates. In between each stroke of his keyboard, he is thinking of you.

Seokjin hates Jungkook a little, for pointing out the obvious fact that he likes you. Before that, Seokjin took his fixation with you at face value. He did not like you; he was just annoyed by you. Now, though.

He cannot help but wonder.

Exhaling loudly, Seokjin slumps against his kiosk. His manager is off once again – honestly, that dude never works – and Seokjin is stuck working with Chad. Absently, Seokjin twirls a spinner around his finger.

“You okay, man?” Chad breaks the silence.

Shaking his head, Seokjin stares into space. “Oh, yeah. Just a bit preoccupied, that’s all.”

“With what?”

Seokjin shrugs, not feeling like talking.

Chad is one of the few people capable of getting under his skin without saying a word. It is something about the way Chad stands – chest puffed, gaze lazy, as though the world owes him something. He always wears a backwards cap, even inside and Seokjin suspects a receding hairline to be the cause. Whatever the reason, Chad always has a chip on his shoulder.

He seems to be compensating for something. Although what he could be compensating for, as a white male in today’s economy, Seokjin has no idea.

“Hey.” Voice lowering, Chad nods towards the food court. “I know something which might cheer you up.”

Seokjin straightens when he realizes Chad is staring at you. Anything which cheers Chad up could only have the opposite effect upon Seokjin.

“What?” Seokjin asks, suspicious.

Chad leans in. “You know the bitch who ruined our display a few days ago?”

Seokjin’s jaw tightens, hearing you called a bitch. “What about it?”

“Ha.” Chad laughs, not hearing the clear warning in Seokjin’s tone. “Don’t worry about paying her back. I got this.”

Alarm bells go off in Seokjin’s mind. “What do you mean by, ‘I got this?’”

“Let’s just say it’s taken care of.”

“No.” Seokjin drops his phone, standing up from his chair. “Let’s say more. What the fuck did you do, Chad?”

Chad blinks at him in surprise. “Whoa – chill, dude. What’re you pissed about?”

Seokjin pauses, uncertain. It is not as though he knows you, not really. But still – Seokjin remembers how sincere you looked that day, apologizing for the display. You did not mean to injure their kiosk; he knows that much.

“Chad…” Seokjin mutters in warning.

He does not get further before screams erupt from the food court. Seokjin’s head whips sideways, spotting the source of the commotion. Once again, a drone is loose in the mall. Like two days prior, a rogue helicopter flies over the food court. It seems out of control, dive-bombing people at random and sending them running.

Seokjin’s mouth drop. Before he can move, the drone careens towards the ground. A girl stands alone next to the frozen yogurt place, holding her cone and staring at it in terror. Her eyes widen, fixed on the drone and Seokjin moves on instinct, darting into the crowd.

Before he can arrive, the girl’s mom appears to yank her to safety. Her cone spills in the process, mint chocolate chip on the ground, but at least the helicopter misses, swooping and diving again. Seokjin’s eyes narrow, realizing the drone moves much too fast to be out of control.

Glancing around, Seokjin realizes Chad is on his phone. When he sees Seokjin looking, Chad waves at him with a grin.

Seokjin’s stomach heaves. Before he can move, you are barreling towards him.

“YOU!” you yell, pointing a finger. Several people between you look up in surprise.

Seokjin blinks, also pointing at himself. “Me?”

“You!” you gasp, skidding to a stop. “What the hell did you do to my drone?”

You are holding several remotes in your fist, Seokjin realizes. Apparently, none of them are working. The helicopter swoops dangerously close to you both and Seokjin ducks out of the way.

“What did I do?” he blurts, staring upwards. “You think I’m the one behind this?”

“No, shit!” you yell, dodging the drone.

“Y/N, I –” The chopper dive-bombs again and Seokjin groans. This is not going to make you believe him, but he needs to do something before someone gets hurt. “Fuck it!” he yells and takes off.

Sprinting away, Seokjin hears you yelling behind him. Ignoring you, Seokjin leaps onto a table. He is not sure how Chad is controlling the helicopter – possibly from his phone, but Seokjin would not put it past him to have someone stationed elsewhere in the mall. Based on the depth of his vengeance on Twitter, Seokjin imagines Chad to be petty.

All Seokjin knows is he needs to stop the drone and a sure-fire way of doing that is getting the drone from the air.

Above, the drone does a loop before dive-bombing a cluster of girls exiting the lingerie store. The girls squeal, scatting in every direction as the helicopter pulls from its spiral. Leaping into the air, Seokjin’s fingers barely brush a wing before falling back to the ground.

“SEOKJIN, GET BACK HERE!”

Ignoring you, Seokjin continues pursuing the drone. “Sorry!” he yells, dodging a woman. “Y/N, this isn’t what it looks like!”

Your footsteps pound behind him, catching up. “It looks like you hijacked one of your drones!”

“See!” Seokjin glances over his shoulder. “I told you it wasn’t what it looks like!”

“Huh?”

“Aha!” Seokjin leaps into the air. Fuck – he barely misses. Crashing again to the ground, Seokjin takes off running. He uses his next jump to leap onto a table.

A guy looks up from his hot dog, mustard dribbled onto his chin. “What the f –”

Seokjin leaps into the air, fingers grazing the wing of the helicopter. Eyes narrowed, Seokjin swears as his heels hit the ground. A mother nearby covers the ears of her child.

“Sorry!” Seokjin yells in response.

A hand grabs his arm. “Kim Seokjin!” you blurt, whirling him sideways to face you.

Seokjin glances over your shoulder in distress. “It’s getting away!” he blurts, shaking free to sprint towards the fro-yo.

Your mouth drops, but you follow. “What are you doing?”

Not having the breath to answer, Seokjin runs faster. For the first time in his life, he is grateful Jungkook pushes him so hard at the gym. Jumping again in the air, Seokjin thinks he has done it – until you jump suddenly in front of him, swatting his hand.

“Hey!” Seokjin yelps, stumbling as he hands. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

“Mine!” you yell, darting forward.

“Wait – Y/N!”

Grumbling, he chases after you. The two of you must look ridiculous, racing around the food court. As you pass Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin swears he can hear Yoongi cracking up at the register.

One second, you are ahead of him and the next, Seokjin is. He runs faster, pumping his arms as he spots the drone by the fountain. Cutting you off, Seokjin puts on a sudden burst of speed and leaps into the air. His fingers wrap around metal, yanking the helicopter from the sky. As he descends, Seokjin cannot help but laugh – until your hand finds his elbow, pulling him sideways.

Seokjin yelps, stumbling when his feet hit the concrete.

There is a dangerous, teetering moment where you both hover at the edge of the fountain – and then he falls, taking you with. Seokjin yelps, soaked to the skin when a water jet hits his face. A second splash follows as your butt hits the water.

If feels like a scene from a movie; that moment when a song cuts at a party. One second, everything is happening and the next – nothing.

Slowly, Seokjin pushes himself to sit in the water. The trickling sound of the fountain fills his ears, one of his hands resting on something which is definitely not a penny.

“Gross,” Seokjin groans, seeing the wad of pink gum.

His pants are soaked, so is his shirt and Seokjin does not even want to imagine the state of his hair. Removing his hand from the water gum, Seokjin looks up.

You glare back at him, making Seokjin recoil.

At least the drone is down.

Seokjin can see its red wings submerged in the water, bobbing genteelly in the waves of the fountain. Slowly, the sounds of the mall filter back in. Someone nearby snickers and someone else starts to clap. In his peripheral, Seokjin can see a few teenagers recording and slowly, he closes his eyes. If he goes viral, there is no way his manager will keep him.

You seem to realize the same thing, glancing around you in panic. Seokjin realizes your situation is noticeably worse than his, since you were wearing a white t-shirt when you fell. The material sticks to your skin, making each curve of your body apparent.

Seokjin swallows, understanding crashing into him with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt.

He likes you.

Fuck. Seokjin likes you, and he is a giant idiot.

Snickering at the food court grabs Seokjin’s attention. It appears he is not the only one to have noticed your shirt. At least your bra is white, but this does not seem to matter to fifteen-year-old boys.

Glancing down, you inhale and cover your chest. Seokjin awkwardly tries to stand, rushing forward to help but slips in the process, nearly falling again. It does not seem as though you desire his help anyways, springing to your feet with tears in your eyes.

Teeth chattering, you hold one hand before you. “Stay away,” you blurt, wet strands of hair plastered against your face. As though unable to help yourself, your lower lip quivers. “I fucking mean it, Seokjin. Stay away from me.”

Seokjin’s feet falter beneath him. “I…” Staring at you, he slowly nods in defeat. “Okay.”

You bend, scooping the helicopter into your arms before turning away.

Giving him another scowl, you climb from the fountain. Your sneakers make squishing noises against the linoleum as you stalk through the food court. Seokjin continues to stand there, ignoring the water jets which repeatedly hit his kneecaps.

His stomach sinks, watching you disappear.

Logically, Seokjin should go and find mall security. He should explain to them what happened before they find him, or worse – before he goes viral on the web. Less logically, Seokjin wants to run after you. He cannot simply leave things between you like that.

At the very least, he should find you a dry t-shirt. Maybe Hoseok could get him one from Foot Locker.

Because this is partly his fault. Seokjin was not the one who took over the drone and he did not push you into the fountain, but you only reacted that way because of how Seokjin has treated you. It was not a wild leap of thought to assume Seokjin was the culprit.

Before he can think about this further, a laugh breaks through the crowd. Turning around, Seokjin sees Chad running towards him.

“Wow.” Chad skids to a stop at the fountain. “That was incredible. Did you see how wet she was? And guess who got it all on camera?” He winks, waving his phone.

“Did you?” Seokjin speaks pleasantly, although he is starting to see red. “Can I see that?”

“Sure.” Chad grins, handing over the phone.

Accepting the object, Seokjin promptly throws this into the fountain.

Chad’s mouth drops open. “What the fuck?” he blurts, watching the metal sink to the bottom.

Seokjin brushes off his hands. “You’re fired,” he says, stepping out of the fountain. Water drips from his shirt, splashing the ground at his feet.

Chad’s eyes bug. “You can’t fire me, asshole. You’re not my manager.”

“Maybe not.” Seokjin shrugs and walks past. His hands open and close, curling into fists. “But he likes me better than you and he’ll believe me when I say this was your fault.”

“You dick!”

“That’s right,” Seokjin mutters. He glances at your kiosk, only to find it empty – Brandi must be helping you to clean up. Something twinges in his chest, knowing this is partly his fault. “I guess I am.”

One week later, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you.

He tries to forget. Truly, he does but this proves itself to be more difficult than he realized. Seokjin did not understand before, how deeply you integrated yourself in his life. He did not realize how much he looked forward each day to your banter, to hearing your laugh whenever he passed by your kiosk. The past month has been bearable only because of your presence.

Slumped at the counter of Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin stares forlornly across the food court.

“Either smile or move.”

Seokjin turns to Yoongi in confusion. “Huh?”

“Either smile,” Yoongi repeats. “Or move. You’re bumming out all my customers.”

Seokjin glances at the empty food court before him. It is 10:00 AM. “What customers?”

“Exactly. All my customers are scared off by how sad you are.”

Seokjin manages a weak chuckle. “Trust me, my face is not what’s driving your customers away. If anything, it’s your latest SoundCloud mix.”

Yoongi frowns, perturbed. “Take that back.”

Seokjin winces, seeing the genuine hurt on his face. “Sorry, man,” he mumbles. “I’m just not in a great mood today.”

“No shit.”

Seokjin cracks a smile. “That obvious, huh?”

“Much in the same way climate change is obvious to everyone but the Cheeto.”

Stifling a laugh, Seokjin quickly sobers. “I just… I don’t know. I thought she’d hear me out, at least.”

The entire past week, Seokjin has parked at the opposite end of the mall from your kiosk. It makes his morning walk shorter, but somehow lonelier.

“So, this is about her, huh?” Yoongi lowers his elbows to the counter. “She’s gone incommunicado.”

“Yeah, it’s about her. I guess I can’t really blame her for being mad at me.”

“No?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “I was kind of a dick.”

Yoongi snorts. “She was a dick, too.”

“Yeah, but I started it.” Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “I was the one who approached her all weird, called her the competition. That set a tone.”

“Okay.” Yoongi tilts his head, thinking. “So, what’re you gonna do about it?”

“I’m going to do nothing about it.”

“Then stop complaining to me.”

“I’m not complaining!” Seokjin looks up and sighs. “Alright, maybe I’m complaining a little. I just… wish I’d realized I liked her sooner.”

“Who cares about that? Tell her now!”

“But she hates me.”

“She hated you then!”

Seokjin glares and takes another sip of his coffee – sputtering, he chokes, “Oh, shit – that’s hot.”

“Hey.” Yoongi gives him a look. “She thinks you messed with her job. That’s way different than wearing tight pants, or putting on a fidget show, or whatever.”

“Fidget spinner show, Yoongi. Fidget show sounds like something else.”

“Both are lame,” Yoongi says. “And my point still stands. She’s mad at you now because of something you didn’t do. Now, move your elbow – I need to clean that spot before lunch.”

Seokjin obliges, dutifully removing himself from the counter. Drinking his coffee, he stares out at the food court. Up until now, Seokjin thought he was doing the noble thing. He was respecting your wishes by giving you space. You said you did not wish to see him again.

Yoongi is right, though. You said all that laboring under a misconception. More than respecting the words said in anger, perhaps it is better for Seokjin to tell you the truth. Maybe pretending to be noble is just another way of chickening out.

Because if Seokjin explains everything to you and you still do not care, it means he is alone in all this. His feelings are one-sided and everything before now was merely a rivalry. The spark Seokjin feels when he looks at you, the burning desire to kiss you – if you knew all that and still hated him, then Seokjin would be alone.

Seokjin exhales and looks up. “Gotta go,” he says, slapping the counter. “See you after your shift?’

“Wait!” Yoongi catches his arm before Seokjin can leave. “Bracelet buddies?” he grins, holding up the pink cat charm wound around his wrist.

Seokjin groans, dutifully rolling up his sleeve to showcase the pale pink alpaca. “Bracelet buddies,” he says glumly.

Yoongi gave him the gift several days ago; payback, he said, for all the women Seokjin has sent his way with the promise of a free pretzel. That used to be Seokjin’s way of scoring dates at the mall. At least, before he met you. Seokjin is obligated to wear said bracelet for three months, or else Yoongi will send their friends pictures of him sleeping with his mouth open on the couch.

If he is being honest, Seokjin does not entirely hate the bracelet. The alpaca is kind of cute, but Yoongi cannot ever know that. Waving goodbye, he manages to scowl and keep up appearances when he heads towards his kiosk.

For the next several days, Seokjin continues to wimp out.

Kind of.

While he does not actually explain what happened, he tries to make up for it in other ways. On Monday, he overhears you telling the Kay Jewelers girl the legs of your stool are too short. As a result, Seokjin volunteers to work late and stays long after closing. Before he leaves, he goes to your kiosk and switches your stool for his.

On Thursday morning, your shifts overlap. Seokjin sees you yawn passing his kiosk, mentioning to Brandi you did not sleep well the night prior. Ducking behind his counter, Seokjin does not make eye contact.

Still, he stops by Java Joe’s on his break and begs Taehyung for coffee.

Taking the long way back through the mall, Seokjin visits your kiosk. It is the first time he has tried talking to you since the Great Fountain debacle. As you come into view, Seokjin swallows and forces the words from his lips.

“Hey.” He comes to a stop at the register.

You freeze when you see him. “Um. Hi?”

Seokjin holds the coffee tray out like a shield. “I was at Java Joe’s and Taehyung brewed too much espresso. Lisa doesn’t drink it, so I was wondering if you wanted it?”

Your lips part, staring at him for a moment.

When you do not immediately respond, Seokjin starts to sweat. “You don’t have to take it,” he says quickly. “I can give it to someone else. It’s too much for me though, and you were on the way back from the shop…”

Trailing off, Seokjin wonders if this entire endeavor is foolish. The tray he is holding is full – four, small cups of espresso which cost an hour of pay. Of course, you do not need to know that. You only need to know that he thought of you.

“I – yeah,” you say slowly, reaching out for a cup. “Thanks, Seokjin.”

Seokjin blinks, since your response was almost cordial. Before he can get too excited about this, Brandi appears.

“Wow, thanks!” she enthuses, grabbing a cup. “That was so nice of you to do this.”

“Right.” Seokjin deflates just a little. It is not as if he does not want Brandi to have espresso, but he was hoping for a shared moment with you. “Just spreading the love – or caffeine, as it were. Anyways…” His laughter trails off, gaze darting to you. “Guess I have one more cup to distribute. Enjoy!”

He turns around too fast for you to respond.

Each step he takes, Seokjin half-expects to hear you call out behind him. If this were pre-Fountain Incident, you probably would have. An insult, or horrible pun – something to let Seokjin know you were watching him walk away, but now there is only silence.

This goes on for a week. Seokjin continues to do nice things for you, passing by in the hopes you will say hi. He holds his breath and hopes you will speak first, but it seems you are determined to continue icing him out.

Seokjin supposes he cannot blame you for this. It is not as though you were friends, after all.

He has almost accepted the idea that you will continue being strangers when one day, Seokjin looks up and finds you at the register.

All words instantly die in his throat.

If he thought he was in the process of getting over you, Seokjin was sorely mistaken. The days of silence have not lessened his want, but only intensified it. It makes him swallow, uncertain, which must be a first. Out of all his friends, Seokjin is not the one to call shy.

Tentatively, you smile and Seokjin realizes he still has not spoken.

“H-hi,” he stammers.

Your shoulders seem to relax at his nervousness. “Hi. Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Seokjin says, slamming his register shut. “Lisa is on break, but it’s been a slow afternoon.”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Same. Guess we finally found those lulls you were on about.”

Seokjin chuckles under his breath. The space between you falls silent again.

“I, uh…” Twisting your hands before you, you seem unsure what to say. “I haven’t seen you around, lately.”

Seokjin’s heart stutters. “Oh. I guess.”

“That’s kind of my fault,” you say. Seokjin’s gaze drops to your hands, which continue to twist. He finds the gesture oddly endearing. “I was the one who told you to stay away.”

Arching a brow, Seokjin turns towards the register. He does not know what to say without being rude. Yes, seems like the most obvious answer, but that could be construed as impolite. Casually, he sneaks a peek sideways. You are right, though – this is partly your fault, also. Even if the other fault is his own.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I don’t blame you for saying that, though.”

“You don’t?”

Curiosity laces your tone and Seokjin looks up, surprised to see a question mark in your gaze.

“Brandi told me Chad was fired,” you add.

Seokjin stills. “Yeah. He was.”

You pause, as though waiting for an explanation. When none comes, you narrow your eyes. “He was the one who messed with that drone, wasn’t he? Not you.”

“I – yeah, I guess so.”

Exasperation enters your gaze. “Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did!” Seokjin protests. “I told you when we were chasing after the drone and you didn’t believe me!”

“Oh,” you say, wilting a bit. “Right.”

Seeing your face, Seokjin softens. “Look, it’s not a big deal.”

“Is it?” you ask in disbelief. “I yelled at you in front of the entire mall for something you didn’t do, and you’re saying its fine?”

Seokjin’s lips quirk. “Well, when you put it like that.”

When you roll your eyes at the ceiling, he laughs. Weirdly, it feels good to have you disparage him a little. It feels as though you are on even footing again.

“I mean, it’s not like we were friends,” Seokjin continues. “Why wouldn’t you think it was me?”

“Hm.” You blink, taken aback. “I guess you’re right.”

After another long moment, Seokjin adds, “We could try to be friends now, though. If you want.”

You bite down on your lip. “Are you giving me a formal offer, Seokjin? Should I sign on the dotted line somewhere?”

“I can make a contract if you want. All good peace treaties are in writing.”

“Is that what this is? A peace treaty?”

“Of a sort.” Seokjin raises a brow. “I can’t promise to stop kicking your ass in sales, though. I was born talented.”

“Or, maybe it’s Maybelline,” you shoot back. “I wouldn’t want you to stop, though. It’s been too quiet around here without you blasting Backstreet Boys.”

“Liked what you heard?”

“Who doesn’t like Backstreet Boys?”

“Monsters.”

“Agreed.”

“Wow.” Seokjin’s brow furrows. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever agreed with me.”

“I know.” After a moment, you frown. “It’s oddly unsettling.”

Seokjin laughs – a short, surprised burst which makes you smile. “Well...” Trailing off, he finds himself unsure what more to say. “Is that why you came over?”

“Let’s see.” You lift a hand, ticking things off on your fingers. “Tell you I know you didn’t sabotage my job. Check. Ask to be friends? Check. Oh,” you add, as though only remembering. “There was something else I wanted to say.

Seokjin waits, holding his breath as you start to lean in.

Angelic, you smile. “I lied before,” you say. “We aren’t having a lull. See you around!”

Dropping a wink, you turn to walk across the food court. Seokjin watches you go, legs having effectively turned to jelly in your presence. It is unfair that you have this effect on him. Slowly, he lowers himself onto his stool. It would seem the two of you are friends now.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Seokjin wonders what he has gotten himself into.

Over the next couple of weeks, Seokjin stops by your kiosk more often. He learns your usual morning coffee order – a grande iced Americano – and occasionally brings it along. You seem to have switched to the morning shift, he notices. Before, it was about fifty-fifty which time of the day you showed up.

At some point, Seokjin explains about his former job and current app development side projects. This turns into a running joke of him bouncing ideas off you.

“Okay,” you say, folding your hands across a wan food court table.

Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “Okay, what?”

“Okay, what’s today’s app idea?”

Seokjin snorts. It is 10:00 AM and neither of you must be at your shift yet but somehow, you both managed to arrive early.

“What about this?” Seokjin leans back in his chair. “Angry birds, but – instead of birds, its photos of friends that you upload yourself.”

“Pass.”

“Hm. A Bachelorette fantasy league app?”

“Hard no.”

“Okay, so this one is a kid’s game.”

“Go on.”

“A kid’s game where you change the oil of your dad’s car as fast as you can.”

You snort, nearly spilling your drink. “Seokjin! That’s a terrible app idea.”

“Bonus points if you spill no oil on the driveway!”

“Seokjin!”

He grins. “Yeah, Yoongi said it was bad, too. I don’t get it.”

“Please.” Shaking your head, your smile fades the longer you look at him. “I don’t believe any of those are your actual idea, though.”

“Huh?” Seokjin blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Those are just the ideas you tell people to make them laugh,” you observe. “It gets them off your back, so you don’t have to say your actual idea. You know, the one you really care about.”

Seokjin pauses, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You arch a brow. “I get it. That’s how I am with my writing. Freelance doesn’t exactly pay for dreams, does it? I tend to downplay my favorite ideas, so then if they don’t work out – hey, at least it wasn’t something I cared about. You know?”

Seokjin is not quite sure how to respond. In only a few sentences, you have looked inside him and summarized his thoughts. No one – not even Yoongi, whom Seokjin has known for years – is able to read him as well.

Inhaling gently, Seokjin leans back from the table. “Well,” he admits. “There is this one idea.”

“Oh?”

Nodding, Seokjin considers where to begin. “Do you know what fair lending is?”

“Not really, no.”

“It’s the unbiased treatment of customers by banks.” Seokjin pauses and, when you do not seem bored with the topic, begins to speak freely. “It ensures financial institutions provide uniform services, regardless of bias.”

“Gotcha. So, it’s like equal opportunity but for banks?”

“Kind of, yeah.” Seokjin exhales. “Basically, I want to create a fair lending app. There is a lot out there to help with credit decisions and stuff, but I want to put it all in one place. I want to break down the ‘non-biased metrics’ banks use and warn people how there could be bias involved.”

Your frown. “What do you mean?”

“Take income, for example.” Seokjin grips his cup tighter. “The vast majority of people below the poverty line are minorities. So, if a bank has a hard and fast income requirement for a loan, they inadvertently discriminate. It’s why a variety of factors are mandated to assist in … what?” Seokjin blinks, seeing you staring. “What is it?”

Hiding a smile, you shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just a cool idea. I think you should do it.”

“But then who will make bachelorette fantasy app?” Seokjin jokes, ducking his head.

“Someone else.” You wait until he looks up. “Do the fair lending app.”

Seokjin finds he cannot think of another joke. “Alright,” he says slowly. “It’s a plan.”

You nod, sipping your coffee as silence falls in between you. It is unnerving, how easy it is for Seokjin to talk to you. With most people, it takes him a while to show his true colors but with you, he finds he cannot be anyone else.

Glancing at his watch, Seokjin realizes how late it is. “Shit,” he mutters, jumping out of his seat. “It’s nearly 10:30.”

You wince, standing as well. “Damn, do you have to open today?”

“Unfortunately so.” Seokjin grabs his coffee. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay, Y/N?”

“Okay,” you say, waving when he turns out of sight.

Seokjin does not hesitate to walk away. He curses himself the entire way to his kiosk because he is becoming much too comfortable with being your friend. Enough that he keeps catching himself thinking about more.

It is hard not to think about his hands wrapped around yours on your coffee cup. Hard not to imagine carpooling with you in his car to work. Seokjin tries to be on his best behavior but still, the fantasies worm their way in.

It is why he has created several rules of conduct around you. First and foremost is never stay for too long. The second Seokjin feels himself becoming attached, he leaves. Like now, for instance. Seokjin does not really have to be at the kiosk before eleven but the way you were looking at him made his heart beat out of his chest.

Self-preservation, he reminds himself.

The rules are working until Taehyung throws a party.

“Saturday night,” Taehyung grunts, slamming Seokjin’s coffee order on the counter.

Seokjin blinks, reaching up to take both cups. Lately, Taehyung has been in the worst kind of mood. This mostly seems to stem from his hot co-worker who will not take him seriously. All the guys in the mall gave him shit about it before, but the kid really does seem to like her. Which sucks, since Taehyung has a reputation and the pretty barista clearly has heard of it.

“The party is at your place?” asks Seokjin, glancing up at the counter.

Taehyung nods. Loud enough for his co-worker to hear, he adds, “The party will be at my place this weekend! Can’t wait to see you there, Seokjin!”

Seokjin snorts, shaking his head. “You’re whipped, man,” he whispers. Then, loud enough for the female barista to hear, he adds, “I’ll be there! In fact, everyone should come!”

The girl does not react, busy at the register and Seokjin shrugs.

Sorry man, he mouths to Taehyung before pushing open the door. Making his way through the mall, Seokjin walks past your kiosk – only to see you deep in conversation with another guy. Seokjin does not recognize him as your co-worker, but he does recognize him from the gym.

Occasionally, Jungkook talks to him before they work out. Seokjin never found the guy threatening before.

Seeing him now though, the oddest sensation unfurls in his stomach. He does not want you talking to this guy – the desire flashes through Seokjin’s mind faster than he can stop it. Before he can turn around and leave though, before Seokjin can separate himself from the situation, you look up and smile.

“Hey, Seokjin!”

“Hey, Y/N.” Plastering a smile on his face, Seokjin forces himself to walk towards your kiosk. “And you are…?” he asks, looking at the stranger.

The guy grins, unconcerned. “Hey, I’m Josh.”

“Cool.” Seokjin returns to looking at you. “Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this weekend, Y/N?”

Everyone at the mall knows who Taehyung is. He is a staple for anyone who drinks coffee – and chances are, if you have stopped by Java Joe’s in the past three days, you are invited.

Your eyes widen. “I was thinking about it.”

“Cool.” Seokjin casually leans an elbow against your kiosk. He forgets about the wheels though, and as a result, the entire thing starts to move. Frantically attempting to right this, Seokjin nearly spills his coffee in the process.

“Anyways…” he mutters, ears turning scarlet.

You clamp your lips tightly together. “So, you’re going to be there?”

Seokjin nods. He has no idea what he is doing. He has no idea what Josh is doing, since he has not said a word since introducing himself.

Glancing at him now, Seokjin is reminded of Chad. Not because the two look anything alike, but because they both have that air about them. That condescending, could-bench-press-you-in-seconds look. Seokjin bets that, at some point in the past ten days, Josh has worn a snapback.

You are standing close very close to him, though. Seokjin cannot ignore this fact.

“Cool.” Your gaze lingers on his. “Then, I guess I’ll see you there?”

Seokjin nods. “Guess so. We’ll see!”

He turns, walking away and overhears Josh ask you details about the party. Gritting his teeth, Seokjin uncurls his hands from their fists. You are not his to be jealous of, he reminds himself. He has no right to be angry if you decide to date someone else. But still, Seokjin’s mood remains sour for the rest of the day.

You do not visit at the end of your shift. If could be because you are genuinely busy. Or, it could be something else. Or, someone.

Seokjin has the next two days off. He uses them to work on his fair lending app, getting a good bit of coding done in his apartment. Your voice plays in his mind as he works, telling him to go for what he wants.

Seokjin is tired of working at the Fidget Funk. He is tired of waking up every morning, going to a job he hates and feeling as though he is doing nothing with his life. What was supposed to be a temp job has stretched into months and Seokjin needs to act for anything about this to change.

There is only so long he can complain before doing something about it.

He wants to do what he loves; wants to do something he cares about – not this. Sometimes, making that decision is the hardest part.

The night of the party, Seokjin drives there with Yoongi. Yoongi, surprisingly agrees to come with little coercion. Usually, Seokjin needs to drag his taciturn roommate to social events. He was easily convinced tonight though, which results in Seokjin being more nervous than normal.

As they enter Taehyung’s apartment, he pauses on the threshold.

If he had your number, he would have texted to see if you were coming, but Seokjin does not and so, he could not. Wandering into the room, Seokjin winces when no one removes their shoes. Parties are always strangely barbaric in that regard.

Taehyung’s apartment with his roommate, Jimin, is much larger than his. Seokjin remembers Taehyung saying Jimin came from money but does not remember specifics. Jimin is a night nurse at NorthShore Medical center and often stops by Java Joe’s in the morning for coffee. Other than that, Seokjin does not know much about him.

Walking inside, Seokjin realizes Taehyung has downplayed Jimin’s wealth. There is no way they could afford this place on a nurse and barista salary. A bunch of people are outside – because there is an outside; a large balcony overlooking the city – chatting about nothing over the rims of their drinks.

Yoongi disappears as soon as they enter, heading off to god-knows-where. He leaves Seokjin alone, who shifts his weight about nervously. Glancing up, he spots Namjoon in the kitchen and hastily rushes towards him. Finally, a familiar face.

“Joon!” he calls out.

Namjoon waves, re-filling the cup in his hand. When Seokjin reaches his side, he hands another to Seokjin. “Hey,” Namjoon nods. “You just get here?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin scans the party again, red cup in one hand. “Is everything c –”

Cutting himself off mid-sentence, Seokjin stares when you walk into the room. Everything he wanted to say falls from his brain to the floor. It is not unlike that one scene in She’s All That, when Laney comes down the stairs and Freddie Prinze Jr. loses his mind. Seokjin cannot think, looking at you.

A red cup is in your hand, matching the red gloss on your lips and god, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about kissing it off.

He swallows, hard – and then notices the guy at your side.

You laugh, turning sideways to Josh. Because that is who it is, of course – the same muscle- bound jock you were talking to at the drone kiosk earlier.

Jungkook appears as well, clapping Josh on the shoulder. Seokjin scowls, swallowing a larger sip of his drink than intended. First, this guy tries to steal his girl and now, his best friend. Eyes widening, Seokjin straightens. Shit, you are not his girl. He needs to stop thinking that way.

“Seokjin?”

Seokjin realizes Namjoon is staring at him. “Uh, yeah?”

“You trailed off in the middle of a sentence and have been hard-core staring at that girl ever since. Is – oh!” Namjoon’s eyes light up. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

“That’s who?” Seokjin hastily swallows his drink.

“The girl! Fountain girl!” Namjoon shoves him. “The one you’re head over heels for!”

“Okay, fountain girl is a horrible way of describing her. And yeah, maybe that’s – shit, shut up,” Seokjin hisses. “She’s coming this way.”

Namjoon snorts into his drink. You are, indeed, waking towards them but Josh is no longer beside you. Craning his neck, Seokjin looks over your shoulder but does not see the guy anywhere.

“Hey.” You come to a stop right before them, glancing at Namjoon. “Namjoon, right?”

Namjoon sticks out a hand. “Yep. Y/N?”

You take this, stifling a smile as you shake. “Yeah.”

“And, of course, you know Seokjin.” Namjoon grins at Seokjin’s flustered expression.

“Uh-huh,” you say, offering him a tentative smile. “We go way back.”

Feeling somewhat nauseous, Seokjin takes another sip of his drink. “Y/N and I are friends.”

A flash of something – uncertainty? Annoyance? – crosses your features. “Right,” you say carefully. “Friends.”

Your expression remains stubborn though, and Seokjin wonders if he has done something wrong. Changing the subject, he glances around the apartment. “Have you been here before, Y/N?”

“No,” you confess. “But damn – which roommate won the lottery?”

Seokjin grins. “I know, right? I can show you around if you want.”

You blink, taken aback by his offer and Seokjin wonders if that was too forward. Well, fuck it – he is not getting anywhere by being subtle.

“Yeah,” you say, recovering yourself. “I’d like that.”

Pushing himself off the counter, Seokjin says goodbye to Namjoon and plunges into the party. He continues to look for hot gym guy, Josh, but does not see him anywhere. It is unlikely you came here together, but not impossible. Perhaps the two of you are dating. Perhaps you like him and want to date him in the future.

Seokjin is so busy running through what-if scenarios, he does not notice you looking at him.

“Right, so Taehyung and Jimin’s rooms are that way.” Seokjin leads through the crowd. “Aka, that hall is off limits. This is the living area and well, you already saw the balcony.” Steps faltering, Seokjin looks sideways at you. “Did you see the balcony?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

“Scared of heights?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, then you’re lucky.” Seokjin mutters, pushing open the sliding glass door. “Luck you never met that dick, Jared Karinsky.”

Laughing, you follow him out on the balcony. There are only a few other people outside and, once the door slides shut, it feels as though you are trapped in another world.

“Who’s Jared Karinksy?”

Glowering, Seokjin takes a sip of his drink. “Some dick who knew I didn’t like heights, but still brought me to the top of the jungle gym. Then, he left me there. It took two hours for my brother to find me and get me back down.”

Laughing, you lean against the railing. “I take it that didn’t help?”

“It did not,” says Seokjin. “If anything, my fear was worse after.”

You grin, draining the rest of your cup as the wind ruffles your hair. It makes Seokjin’s heart ache a bit to look at.

“Well, I have to say –”

The glass door slides open, interrupting whatever you were about to say. Josh’s head pops out. “Y/N!” he grins. “I was looking for you.”

You slowly turn towards the interruption. “I... oh. Hey, Josh.”

“Are you busy?” Josh glances between you and Seokjin.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Seokjin feels oddly foolish. It seems obvious now, that you came here with Josh. You must have been making a beeline for drinks when you ran into Seokjin in the kitchen. Seokjin assumed, then. He thought you were free. When he grabbed you, he was yanking you away from the guy you really wanted to be with.

“Not busy.” Seokjin drains the rest of his cup. “Not busy at all. Have fun,” he mutters, brushing your shoulder as he moves towards the door.

When he leaves, Seokjin does not look back and so, he does not see your lips part. He does not watch you stare after him with equal parts frustration and anger. All Seokjin sees is the kitchen before him, full of alcohol for him to consume. Alcohol he will need to get through the rest of this party.

He is almost to the kitchen when a hand grips his arm, yanking him around. “What the fuck was that?” you say, brows furrowed.

Seokjin stares at you, alarmed you are in such close proximity. “I – huh? What the fuck was what?”

You scowl, leaning in and Seokjin leans back. “That!” you demand, waving vaguely at the balcony. “Why did you run away?”

“Run away?” Seokjin’s gaze darts towards the offending location. “I thought you wanted to talk to that guy?”

“Why would you think that?” you ask, brows furrowing further.

“I…” Seokjin finds himself at a loss. “I don’t know. Didn’t you come here with him?”

“With Josh?” You wrinkle your nose. “You mean – my cousin, Josh?”

“…cousin?”

You nod, looking at him incredulously. “You thought I wanted to talk to my cousin, Josh, as opposed to you?”

A lightbulb clicks in Seokjin’s mind. “I – he’s your cousin?”

“Yes, he’s my cousin.” Scowling, you take a step closer. “But even if he weren’t, why would you just leave like that? We were in the middle of a conversation!”

“I don’t know!” he blurts, gaze narrowing at your tone.

Out of the two of you, Seokjin is the one with the right to be angry. You are the one looking so damn good tonight and currently yelling at him for something he does not understand.

Vaguely aware they should not have this argument in the middle of Taehyung and Jimin’s kitchen, Seokjin grabs your wrist and tugs you into the hall. The forbidden one, next to the bedrooms. Realizing this, Seokjin keeps going and decides to beg forgiveness later.

Dropping your arm, he whirls around to find you mere inches away.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?” he accuses, pointing a finger. “For that matter – why didn’t you ask if I was going to the party tonight? If my presence is so important to you.”

Glaring at him, you bat his finger away. “You asked me first! Besides, I thought it was obvious I wanted you here. You know… because of the… and…”

“Because of the what?”

Somehow, you have gotten very close to Seokjin. The tips of your toes are just brushing his. Electricity crackles between you, making Seokjin’s heartbeat oddly erratic.

Glowering, your gaze darts to his lips. “Oh – seriously? Shut up and kiss me, you ass!”

Grabbing your face, Seokjin does just that. His lips crash into yours, the kiss muffled and urgent as he backs you to the wall. You groan, hands fisting in the back of his t-shirt. Seokjin cannot think beyond his hand resting on your jaw, then sliding into your hair, then moving down to your ass.

He cups you against him, head reeling from the sudden warmth of your mouth, your body and the urgency of your touch. Seokjin has never wanted someone so badly. Each brush of your lips leaves him wanting more, an endless desire alight in his veins.

Your mouth opens, tongue flicking with his as Seokjin’s heart nearly explodes. He cannot breathe – each breath mingles with yours, leaving him dizzy and parched.

“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away to lean his arm to the wall.

You stare up at him, breathless and confused. Your chest continues to rise and fall, lips swollen from the wanton press of his mouth. Seokjin cannot look away.

“I…” He exhales, glancing towards the living room. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

You nod so fast, you nearly hit your head on his chin. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Seokjin reaches down, grabbing your hand. “You good with my place? It’s only a few minutes drive.”

“Yeah,” you answer, following him down the hall. “Roommate?”

“Here. At the party.”

“Good.”

Dragging you into the foyer, Seokjin digs his phone from his pocket. Letting go of your fingers, he shoots a text off to Yoongi, telling him not to come home. He can face the consequences of that later. Shoving his phone in his pocket, Seokjin opens the door.

“Do you have a coat?” he asks, looking at you.

“Nope. You?”

“Nope.” Seokjin shuts the door to the hall and the noise of the party fades. “This way?”

“Sounds good.”

When you move to walk past, Seokjin grabs your hand – he cannot help himself. Pushing you against the wall, he relishes your muffled exclamation of surprise and kisses you fiercely. Thoroughly. The way he has wanted to for so long.

Hands sliding into your hair, Seokjin feels you arch against him. Your hand is on his hip, pulling him closer and Seokjin cannot stop thinking about your hand on other places.

When he finally breaks away, you stare at his lips. “That’s…” You swallow, voice sounding strangled. “Fuck.”

Seokjin grins. “Come on.”

Grabbing you again, he pulls you into the elevator. The entire way down, the air between you is electric. Seokjin shifts his weight and you follow suit. Raising a hand, you rub the back of your neck. Seokjin’s skin prickles when he sees.

When the door dings, opening into the lobby, you suddenly come to life. Newly determined, your hand wraps around his and pulls Seokjin outside. He practically throws his keys at the valet, wondering how on earth he is going to survive the drive home without touching you. Thank god he only had that one drink tonight. It would have been torture to be so close to fucking you and then not.

Startled by the thought, Seokjin realizes the truth of the matter. He is going to see you naked. Whirling to face you, Seokjin blurts, “This isn’t some random thing. You know that, right?”

Surprised, you glance at him. “I – what?”

“This.” Seokjin steps closer and his peripheral, sees the valet hop out of his car. “I really like you, Y/N.”

Staring up at him, you blink. “You do?”

“Of course, I do! You thought I didn’t?”

“I thought you hated me.”

“Of course, not!” Grabbing his keys from the valet, Seokjin opens the passenger door. He waits until you sit before crossing to the driver’s side. “Why would you think that?” he asks, sliding into the seat.

You stare at him incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Seokjin pulls out of the driveway. “I’ve liked you for so long! I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Uh! Could’ve fooled me.”

“Are you serious? I was such an idiot in front of you! What other explanation is there?”

“That you’re an idiot!” you answer, scowling. “Are you seriously saying that was your idea of flirting?”

“I mean… well, no, but…”

You snort, facing forward. “You’re so bad at this.”

“At what?”

“This!” you insist, gesturing between you.

“Oh, come on! Like you’re Juliet, or something.”

“Who?”

“Juliet! Of Romeo and Juliet!”

“They… Seokjin, they died in the end!” you say incredulously.

“Well, what do I know?” Seokjin makes a sharp right, pulling into his parking lot. “I never finished reading that play, actually – fell asleep a third of the way in. What I’m trying to say is that you’re also shit at this.”

“Oh, really?”

“You said you never wanted to speak to me again,” Seokjin reminds, throwing the car into park.

Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “I apologized for that.”

“You were the one who said you wanted to be friends!” Seokjin shoves open his door and exits the vehicle.

You exit as well, slamming the door shut. “Well, it seemed like the next logical step!”

“No.” Seokjin strides forward. Caging you against the car, he growls, “The next logical step would’ve been admitting you liked me, too.”

“Too?” You blink, stuck on the word. “So, you admit you like me?”

“Never said I didn’t.”

These last words are muttered against your lips, Seokjin cutting off further retorts with a kiss.

Arching upwards, your hands twine around his neck. Seokjin’s mind stutters, unsure what to think. His brain is a vague mess of swear words and exclamation points when his lips move against yours. It is hard to grasp the fact that you are here, with him and wanting him the same way he wants you.

Breaking apart, Seokjin rests his forehead to yours. “Okay,” he manages. “I know you said you wanted to leave with me. I know you got in my car and drove all the way here. But – because I want to be sure – do you want to come in?”

Breathlessly, you laugh. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Withdrawing, Seokjin takes your hand. “Then, let’s go.”

Climbing the outdoor stairs to reach his apartment, Seokjin pulls the keys from his pocket so he is prepared to enter. He does not check his phone, certain Yoongi has texted him multiple epithets about where he can stick his ass.

Bracing his hip against his door, Seokjin jiggles the key to shove it open. Once you are both inside, Seokjin half-expects you to wrinkle your nose. It is not as if his and Yoongi’s apartment can ever compete with Jimin and Taehyung’s.

You do none of this, though. Stepping inside, you place your purse on the counter and glance around curiously. “You live with that guy from the food court, right?” you ask, turning around. “Yoongi?”

Stepping forward, Seokjin crushes his mouth to yours.

You inhale, the noise caught by his lips when your hands slide up his back. One of your legs curls around his, rubbing your core against the meat of his thigh. Seokjin’s head spins, gripping your ass to push you against the counter. You make a muffled noise, gasping when Seokjin hardens into your crotch.

It is embarrassing how ready he is for you. All it took where a few whispered words about how badly you want him and here he is, rock-hard and on edge. Admittedly, the noises you make are not helping.

“Shit,” Seokjin breathes, kissing down the slope of your neck.

You arch your throat, allowing more access. Your skin tastes of berries and something else – probably a perfume Seokjin does not know the name of. The warm press of your core to his leg leaves Seokjin reeling.

“My room?” he gasps, hand dragging up your side.

Frantic, you nod. “Yes.”

Bending, Seokjin grips your legs and lifts you against him. He stumbles towards his bedroom, realizing too late you are heavier than he thought. Maybe Jungkook was right about adding weight to his reps. Kissing you again, Seokjin staggers into his bedroom and drops you on the bed.

Laughing, you grab your top to yank overhead. There is some skepticism to your gaze, as though you expected him to fall short in carrying you. Seokjin’s ego flames in response. Growling lowly, he rips off his shirt and descends on the bed. Parting your legs, he presses a kiss to your thigh.

“Take off your jeans.” Seokjin looks up.

You blink. “What?”

“I wanna eat you out.” Seokjin cocks a brow. “Or, is that too much?”

“No,” you glower, undoing your buttons. “Go for it.”

As you shimmy your jeans down your legs, Seokjin’s mouth dries at the sight of your panties. He did not imagine them to be lace. He did not imagine them to be quite as revealing as they are. Slowly, Seokjin reaches out to peel these aside. You inhale, arching on the bed. Seeing your pussy like that, laid out before him, he can hardly breathe.

You are wet for him. Theoretically, this makes sense, but Seokjin did not think he could make you wet. Did not think he would ever see you as drenched as you are, the lace in the middle much damper than the rest. Pressing another kiss to your knee, Seokjin inhales and makes his way higher.

Flicking your clit with his tongue, he teases at more. You mewl, curling inwards and Seokjin pushes your legs down. He sucks the length of your folds, getting you good and wet before he returns to your sex. You arch again, pussy clenching even through there is nothing inside you.

Smirking, Seokjin takes pleasure in this fact. Your folds are glistening, ready even though has not touched you yet. He has not even pushed a finger inside that tight, wet cunt of yours. Lowering his head, Seokjin’s tongue curls over your clit. He turns needy, licking until your hands fist in the sheets on either side of your body.

“Seokjin,” you groan. “Please.”

“Please what?”

Seokjin leisurely sucks on your clit, pulling it between his lips. His other hand drifts to your cunt, tracing in circles.

You moan beneath him on the bed, arching to try and push him inside. Seokjin memorizes the visual – the black lace of your bra barely hiding your nipples, hair splayed on his comforter with his hands on your thighs.

“I need more.”

“Yeah?” Seokjin lazily traces your pussy. “Want me to finger you?’

“Fuck, yes.”

“Mm.” Seokjin sucks your clit until you cry out from pleasure. Releasing you gently, he sits back on his heels to rub with his fingers. “I could probably make you come like this, though.”

Reaching underneath your body, you unhook your bra. Seokjin stares in awe at your chest, bared before him. “Probably,” you agree. “But wouldn’t it be more fun to come inside me?”

Seokjin’s teeth grit, the words going straight to his cock. Already, it pulses against the tight fit of his jeans – when he feels how wet you are, Seokjin cannot stop imagining himself inside you. Grabbing your wrist, he brings your hand to his crotch.

You inhale when you feel how hard he is. “You’re so… big,” you murmur. “Will you even fit?’

Seokjin smirks, bending until his lips cover yours. “Not yet,” he agrees, spreading your legs with one hand. Stroking your center, he wets himself with your arousal. “That’s why I gotta stretch you out first. Get you ready for this dick.”

“O-h,” you gasp, mouth a perfect o as Seokjin’s finger pushes inside.

It is a tight stretch. Seokjin feels a bit light-headed, imagining something so tight and wet wrapped around him. Withdrawing, he pushes a finger inside you again. Rolling your hips, you force Seokjin deeper and he clicks his tongue, hand grabbing your waist.

“You don’t get to be in control,” he instructs, finger sliding back out. Adding another one, he slowly fucks you again. “You just have to lie there and take it.”

“Good,” you breathe, two of his fingers inside you. “Finally. I’ve been wanting you to yank my panties down and fuck me for weeks now.”

Seokjin’s jaw clenches – shaking his head, he is certain he must have misheard. “What?”

A smile curls your lips. “You heard me,” you say sweetly, pussy squelching as Seokjin’s fingers slide in and out. “You’re so hot when you’re mad. Why do you think I teased you so much? Wanted your dick in my mouth to shut me up.”

Heat blazes through Seokjin’s veins. He has never been this turned on in his life – hearing such sinful things from your angelic lips. Sitting back on his heels, Seokjin frantically undoes his jeans.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters, pushing them past his ass.

Yanking out his cock, Seokjin wraps a hand around his girth. He rubs himself roughly, ignoring the pre-cum dripping from his reddened tip. Already, he is steeling himself to not come inside you. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you watch him touching himself, lips parted in awe. Seokjin stares back, realizing you are as tuned on by him as he is by you.

Your gaze darts to his face. “Condom?” you ask, voice unsteady. “I don’t think I’ll last long once you’re inside me.”

Nodding, Seokjin grabs one from his drawer. Ripping open the packet, he rolls this on. Lowering an arm to the bed, Seokjin positions his cock at your core. As badly as he wants to be inside you, there is something so tantalizing about teasing. Spreading your legs, Seokjin rubs his cock to your clit and watches you twitch in response.

“Seokjin,” you groan, arms sliding around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Need you to fuck me so good,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Cock at your entrance, Seokjin slowly pushes inside. “Like that?”

“Mhmm.” You nod, breath hitching slightly. “Like that.”

“There?” Seokjin pushes in a bit more, moaning when your walls flutter around him.

You are squeezing him so fucking tight, Seokjin wonders how much more you can take. He is aware of the fact he is big. It would not be the first time a girl could not take him; would not be the first time he gave up and ate the girl out until she came.

“No!” Eyes flying open, you grab Seokjin’s wrist when he starts to withdraw. Lips parted, you stare at him in a daze. “Please keep going,” you beg. “Don’t wanna stop.”

Seokjin arches a brow. “You sure? Sure it feels good?”

“Good?” You stare at him with a fucked-out expression. “Oh my god.” Wrapping both legs around his waist, you push Seokjin in deeper. “You’re stretching me so good, baby. Can’t wait until you’re pounding this pussy.”

“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses, gaze darkening. “I think I somehow got harder.”

“I know,” you laugh, somewhat dreamily. “Felt your cock twitch inside me. So fucking hot.”

Seokjin continues to ease inside you, inch by inch until your eyes start to water. Biting down on your lip, you urge him on and before long, Seokjin bottoms out. He stops there, panting at the feeling of being so deep inside you. Glancing down, Seokjin sees your pussy split by his cock and cannot contain himself any longer. He slowly pulls out.

“What…” Grasping for his ass, you panic a bit. “Seokjin, don’t –”

Grabbing your knee, he slams back inside you. The two of you groan at the same time. Him, because he has never felt anything as tight and wet as your cunt and you because his dick is so large, your body is trembling.

“God.” You fall back on the bed, chest bouncing. “I fucking knew you were big. There was no other way you could be so annoying.”

Seokjin withdraws, reliving the sweet sensation of thrusting his cock in your tight pussy. You are so warm and so wet – now that you have been stretched, you mold easily to him.

“Fuck,” you gasp, lifting your hips to his.

Seokjin toys with you. Slowly sliding in and out, he brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing. “You thought I was annoying, huh?” he breathes, lips hot in your ear.

Nodding, your hands fist in the sheets. “Still do.”

Chuckling, Seokjin captures your lobe with his teeth. His hips roll against you, pressing you into the mattress. “Mm. Know what I think?”

“What?”

“You talk too much. Flip over.”

Your eyes widen. “W-what?”

“Thought you wanted me to shut you up?” Seokjin presses a sweet kiss to your mouth. “Now, flip over, so I can fuck you senseless.”

Withdrawing, he ignores every inch of him which screams to stay put. It is worth it though, when you finally flip onto your stomach and stick your ass in the air.

Inhaling, Seokjin runs a hand up your drenched pussy. Your lips are swollen, messy with slick from him eating you out. Lifting himself onto his knees, Seokjin grabs his dick and pushes against your center. Slapping your clit a few times, he hisses when he feels you tremble beneath him. Hands soft on your hips, he slides into your cunt.

“Ah!” you gasp, head thrown back from the motion.

Wrapping your hair around his wrist, Seokjin thrusts into you again. He can feel every inch of your cunt, feel the tight squeeze of your walls on his cock. God, you are driving him crazy. Thrusting harder, Seokjin cannot separate the sensations before him.

Your ass pushing back on him, the way your moans fall from your lips. The tight wetness of your heat, his cock disappearing in and out. Leaning down, Seokjin slides an arm around your ribcage and pulls you against him.

He continues to fuck you like that, cock entering your body at a punishing speed. You feel so good pressed against him, nipples hard as they peek through his palms. Seokjin’s lips find your neck, sucking a hickey into your skin.

“Fuck,” you groan, walls tightening around him. Your bodies bang together, his cock fucking you open in a way which barely seems decent. “Fuck – Seokjin – yes! Oh my god, yes.’

“Yeah?” His grip tightens around you. “You about to come on my dick, baby?”

“Yes!” you gasp. He is basically holding you up at this point, fucking you senseless. “Oh – oh! I thought… you – mmph – wanted! Me – fuck! Quiet!”

Chuckling, Seokjin slides a hand between your legs. Finding your clit, he begins to rub with his fingers. “Changed my mind,” he grunts. “Wanna hear you scream my name so loud, you wake all my neighbors.”

“S-Seokjin!”

Your legs start to shake, trembling with your impending orgasm and Seokjin is not doing much better. The only thing holding him back is the intense desire to feel you come wrapped around him.

“C’mon,” he groans, angling his hips even deeper. “Wanna feel this tight, little pussy come on my cock. Can you do that, baby? Can you?”

“Yes,” you gasp and then you are coming undone.

Seokjin groans, biting your shoulder when your pussy clamps down. Your orgasm is so intense, Seokjin is surprised he can keep you against him. Pushed over the edge, Seokjin shudders when he lets go and releases into the condom. It goes on for so long, his cock aching as you take every last bit of him.

Slowly, his hand falls and strokes down your side. Lips brushing your neck, Seokjin exhales and gently withdraws. Everything is over-sensitive, each inch of his body buzzing with satisfaction. Tying the condom into a knot, Seokjin tosses this in the garbage and sees you roll out of bed.

His stomach twists. “Where are you going?” he blurts, wincing at how needy he sounds.

It is only – you look so fucking beautiful. Hair messy and lips swollen, traces of arousal lingering on the inside of your thighs. You smile at him, as if sensing his nervousness.

“Where’s your bathroom?” you ask, sheepish.

Seokjin exhales, relief coursing through him. He points to the left. “Over there,” he says, collapsing on top of the sheets. His dick is limp, soft in his lap, but looking at you, Seokjin is already thinking about more. “Want me to show you?”

“That’s alright,” you laugh, turning around. “I think I can make it to the closet alone.”

Grinning, Seokjin falls back again. “Come back soon.”

“Okay.”

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you sneak another peek before disappearing.

Seokjin stares at his ceiling for a moment before he remembers his roommate. Wincing, he reaches down to fish his phone from his jeans. Unsurprisingly, there are several missed texts from Yoongi.

Yoongi: k lol [11:01 PM]

Yoongi doesn’t matter won’t be sleeping anyways [11:01 PM]

Yoongi: too busy eating dessert ; ) [11:01 PM]

Groaning, Seokjin plugs his phone into his charger. He guesses this means Yoongi found someone else to hook up with. Rolling over in bed, Seokjin starts when you open the door.

“Hey.” You smile, almost embarrassed. Walking towards him, you bend to scoop your underwear from the ground.

“Whoa!” Seokjin blurts, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you into the bed before you can get dressed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Putting on clothes,” you laugh, curling into his side. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Mhm.” Seokjin’s nose nuzzles your hair. He is not sure why, but something about this feels right. Having your limbs entwined in his, your hand resting soft on his chest. He feels warm, satisfied by the thought of being near you.

Sleepily, you smile. “I’m not allowed to get dressed tonight, is that it?”

“Nope,” he agrees, heart soaring the longer he looks at you. “Something that good needs repeating.”

Laughing a little, you curl tighter around him. “Does that mean you want to repeat it?” you ask, uncertainty to your voice.

Sliding two fingers under your chin, Seokjin tilts your head up. “Yeah,” he says, quiet. “I can’t think of anything I want more, to be honest.”

“I – same.”

Laying your head on his chest, you are quiet for a moment as Seokjin basks in the silence. Then, he exhales and adds, “I mean, aside from trouncing your sales targets, of course. I always want to do that.”

You snort, shoving his side. Seokjin pulls you in closer, grinning widely. It is a lie, of course – right now, there is nothing he wants more than to be with you.

[ COLLABORATION MASTERLIST FOUND HERE ]

#btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #bts fanfic #seokjin smut #jin smut #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin writing #jin writing

3K notes · View notes

elatedmarvel · 4 years

Text

All Tied Up

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve Rogers comes to your rescue.

Work Count: 2k

A/N: Hello! Long time no chat! This was written for @wkemeup‘s 4k follower celebration! Thank you for hosting this Kas! It was so much fun to write! If you have yet to check her out, go do it! Her stories are always soooooooooo emotional and good. Literally one of the best writers ever! My prompt was “ “Can you stop fidgeting? I’m trying to untie you.”. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: hints of sex, talks of having children (in the future)

“Agent, what’s your status?” Steve whispers into his comm, somehow, it still sounds loud and echoes down the hallway.

He stands in the shadows, trying to hide his giant frame, his eyes flicker to a new location every few seconds. He can’t risk getting caught, especially since he lost communication with you.

You had told him you were going to acquire the target, and slinked off into the shadows before he could tell you it was a bad idea. Now, here he stands, worried they had captured you.

Not that you couldn’t handle yourself. It had been a beautiful sight the day you brought Bucky Barnes to his knees when sparring. He swears he saw a few tears in Bucky’s eyes, which of course he vehemently denied.

Hell, you’ve even taken him down. But usually, you would just bat your eyelashes at him and kiss him till he saw stars before claiming your victory. He doesn’t mind though, getting to kiss you was his consolation prize.

The comm floods with static noise when he checks it again, never a good sign. Sighing in frustration, he checks his watch. It reads 2:30 PM, 10 minutes past when you said you would check in.

His gut tells him something is wrong, and it is rarely wrong. Except maybe the one time he had convinced you to eat 4 day old pizza that had been sitting on the island in the common kitchen. He’ll never forget the hours you spent throwing up, crying in a ball, and cursing his name. You still cringe a bit whenever the team orders pizza.

Sighing and resigned to his fate, he moves as quietly as possible down the hall. He can hear the targets chattering in the next room, noisy for people that were supposed to be discreet, but he hardly blames them, they were able to secure an Avenger. Slowly, he peaks around the corner, trying to hold his breath.

All four hostiles were in the room, too occupied by their tablets to notice him. 2 of them sat with their backs to the open door, the other 2 were huddled in the corner laughing about something or other. Scanning the room, he feels hope blooming in his chest when he doesn’t find you among them.

The common space is the only other place you could be. Tiptoeing across the open doorway, he pauses on the opposite side of the door. The noise is the same, no indication that they heard or saw him pass by. Hoping his luck holds out, he maneuvers almost silently down the rest of the corridor.

Stepping into the room, he finds you exactly how he thought he would. Hands tied behind your back, legs and torso tied to the chair. Duct tape covers your mouth, and your eyes glower in a deadly manner. It would be almost cute if you weren’t in the middle of a mission.

“Mmmmm, hmmmm” you hum as you see Steve in the doorway. Your body starts to wriggle about, and Steve is pretty sure you’re gonna knock yourself over if you continue moving with as much vigor as you do.

“Shh, be quiet, you’re gonna give us away with all that noise.” he scolds as he walks closer. He won’t admit it, but he takes great pleasure seeing you struggle against the restraints. And not just because he tries to get you to go to escape training seminars. He bet’s you’ll go with him now. It’s actually an impressive set up, better than he would have expected from the enemy.

“I’m gonna take off the duct tape, but you have to promise me not to yell.” The cold look you give him makes him chuckle under his breath. You were always so fiesty, one of his favorite pastimes was riling you up.

The chair starts to scrape against the floor with your thrashing. Finally, he takes pity on you and gently peels the duct tape from your mouth.

“Motherfucker! That hurt!” you whisper yell. He rolls his eyes at that, he knows for a fact that the duct tape was mostly coming off anyways. You had a slobbered all over it, he’s pretty sure, in an attempt to break yourself free. You could never wait for someone else to rescue you, it takes a few seconds to remember the last time you needed help on a mission was.

“You’ve been shot before.” he reminds you as he kneels down in front of you, quickly he releases your right foot. It almost kicks him in the face before he jerks out of the way in the last second.

“Finally!” you shout, and wiggle the foot around. “My feet have been asleep for 10 mins now.” You stomp the foot on the ground now, trying to release the static feeling.

“Maybe if you listened to me, you wouldn’t be in this position.” Steve says, smirking up at you as he unties your left foot. This time, your foot hits him square in the chest.

“Shut up Rogers, you know you loved me tied up.” you wink. His cheeks feel warm and he thinks about things other than you naked and tied to the headboard of your shared bed. The thought of Bucky and Sam’s last attempt in the kitchen takes care of his problem.

Clearing his throat, he slides on his knees behind the chair. Both your hands were tied together and your torso was tied to the chair. Knowing you would jump free the moment your torso was free, he grabs your hands to work on the knot first. It would be a disaster if you went running around with your hands tied together, trying to take down the hostiles.

The chair keeps moving with your excessive wiggling, making his hands slip from the surprisingly sturdy knot. If this wasn’t time sensitive, he would have let you struggle a while longer, just to see how long it would take you to get yourself out of the mess.

“Can you stop fidgeting? I’m trying to untie you.” Steve reprimands and gives a slight tug on your restraints.

You stick your tongue out, but realize he can’t see it from behind you. Instead, a middle finger on both hands proudly stands out from behind your back. A smirk finds its way onto his face as he sees them and swats the fingers away.

“Be nice.” he breathes close to your ear, tugging one last time to get your hands free. The shiver that ran down your spine as you remember when those exact words were last said. With him on top of you as he kisses every part of your body. Sweaty body on sweaty body, moving together towards the grand release. You reprimand yourself in your head, you promised yourself you wouldn't turn into someone that daydreamed about her boyfriend over everything else. Mission now, sex later.

“I’m always nice.” you reply, struggling out of the torso restraints harder now that Steve has untied your hands. The sound of disbelief escapes him before he can trap it, many examples come to mind, almost making him laugh if he wasn’t trying to be discreet and quiet.

Your breath gets knocked out of you for a second as you accidentally choke yourself trying to get free. With a small “hum”, you finally fall complacent and let Steve work on the final knot in peace.

A minute, maybe two passes by before you feel the ropes slack. The moment you do, you jump up, giving a victorious cry and shove the chair back with your knees. Steve gets up in the exact moment, and misses catching the chair by a millisecond.

Blue eyes meet your wild, shocked ones as the sound echoes throughout the hallways. He can hear the moment the rascals register what the sound was, as they frantically run out of the room.

With nowhere left to run, Steve shifts slightly in front of you, preparing himself for the battle he knows is to come.

“No!” they scream as they stampede into the common room.

“We tied you up so good!” Morgan Stark yells, running at full speed straight into Steve’s arms.

“We even used the heavy duty rope we found in Uncle Tony’s lab.” Lila Barton states as she jumps and climbs up Steve’s legs. With both girls in Steve’s arms, they start talking a minute a mile about how they need to change the tactic next time.

Nathaniel rubs his eyes sleepily as he walks into the room, almost an exact replica of Clint after a long mission, and holds out his arms, silently begging to be picked up. You take pity on the young boy and swipe him into your arms, holding him almost like you would a newborn baby.

You both giggle a moment, before you right him in your arms and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You’ll ignore the drool on your shirt for now.

Only Cooper Barton seems to care about the scene of the crime, and gathers up the rope that limply lays on the ground.

He takes a handful of rope in both hands and tugs for a moment. Steve swears he murmurs something about using vibranium handcuffs next time. He’ll make an excellent agent one day.

“So, what do we get for winning? Ice cream?” Morgan asks with a sly smile on her face, gaining Steve’s and your attention. The exact look was copied straight from one Tony Stark, and it shocks Steve just how much she looks like the billionaire.

Lila nods furiously next to her, and both the boys hum in agreement.

“Technically, I freed myself. So you didn’t win.” you counter. Steve snorts at your comment, and you stick you tongue out at him.

“Right, the knots magically slipped away. Not like I had anything to do with it” he counters. The girls giggle, and you shoot them your best mean face.

“You’re on my team, and my boyfriend so that’s allowed.” you explain, slightly swaying side to side with a sleepy Nathaniel. You hope if you sway enough, he’ll fall asleep and that’ll be one less kid hyped up on sugar running around.

“I think we earned the ice cream by simply being able to capture you and tie you up.” Cooper bargains, a huge grin on his face. The girls nod furiously at the statement, and even Nathaniel gives a weak noise of approval.

You lock eyes with Steve once more, you were both pretty sure this was how it was going to end anyways, but you always wanted to be on the same page as him. He nods slightly, and his lips curl up so minutely, you wouldn’t have caught it if you hadn't spent hours staring at his beautiful face.

“Fine, but only one scoop.” you finally give in.

The resounding scream of happiness they give out nearly deafens you. The girls scramble down from Steve’s arms, desperate to get to the kitchen. Even Nathaniel perks up from your arms, and wiggles his way down. Taking his brother’s hand, they follow the girls to reap their prize.

“I can’t believe they actually managed to tie you down, we were supposed to be babysitting them.” Steve chuckles as he swings an arm around your shoulder and leads you to the kitchen.

“In my defense, you can’t kick and punch wards in your charge, so I let them.” you say and give his butt a pinch.

He jolts away from you momentarily before laughing and spinning you in front of him. Lips drawn to yours, he kisses you slow and happy before moving away and pecking other parts of your face.

“Stop,” you laugh, “you’re getting your spit on me.”

“You’ve never complained before.” he smirks at you, and laughs when your cheeks grow warmer. Giving you one last kiss, he takes your hand and drags you to the kitchen.

It’s hard for his mind not to wonder what it would be like if this wasn’t babysitting. If this was really his everyday life, kids and a wonderful kick ass wife to share his days with.

Would the kid have his eyes and your face? Maybe the serum would counteract the sickly boy he once was. He knows for certain that if he had one kid, he would want another. Being an only child, Bucky was his only savior for boredom and love after his mom passed away.

As if you could read his mind, you rub your thumb across the back of his hand, catching his attention.

“I’m glad Clint and Tony asked us to babysit, good practice for when we have some.” you smile at him. His heart races when he sees the excitement in his eyes. That’s just how you were, you complimented him perfectly.

“Yeah?” he asks, elation growing in his body the more he thinks about his future with you.

“Yeah” you nod. Smile growing as wide as your face.

Steve leans in slowly, eyes still alight with joy and takes your face in his massive hands. The breath in your body leaves you for a moment, seeing the happiness in Steve Rogers is all you ever wanted. Having a front row seat was sometimes too much.

Before your lips can touch, a shatter rings from the kitchen, shortly followed by a scream. A laugh leaves his mouth as he pulls you in for a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“I didn’t do it!” little voices yell, and it makes the both of you chuckle even more.

You bury your head into his chest as he yells out that you are both coming and to stay where they are.

“We probably need more practice though before we have our own.” you say as you look up at him.

“Ours will be more well behaved than that right?” he asks back, unfolding you from his arms and walking towards the kitchen.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” you laugh.

The second crash and screams makes you both lightly job towards the commotion.

As he watches you calm down a crying Nathaniel and Lila while mopping up the spilled ice cream, his heart feels so full it could burst.

He can’t wait to share in the chaos of life with you.

~~~~

Thank you so much for reading! Always open to comments and feedback!

#kas4kwc #Steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve fan fiction #steve fan fic #steve rogers fan fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic

378 notes · View notes

latibulx · 3 years

Note

booyoung and byul ( not a lot of interactions between the two but i do be curious :O )

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME! ㅡ open ㅡ @pathwae

General:

How long will they last? - I think they might have a few break-ups here and there; probably because of the distance between them that makes it difficult to maintain a romantic relationship. And also, perhaps because they both end up quite busy with their own work/passion. However, if they manage to find their rhythm and work on their own selves, I can see them growing old together.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Okay, my headcanon is that they met through friends they have in common and they immediately hit it off and became friends rather quickly. Falling in love came naturally as they got to spend more time together and got to know each other better, most likely realizing how well they were fitting each other. I imagine it happened over the course of several months because neither Byul or Booyoung wanted to rush into a relationship and take the risk to ruin their friendship.

How was their first kiss? - I imagine that Booyoung would have invited Byul to see her perform because he had promised her that he'd come see her at least once. And, after the performance, instead of going back to their own place, they decided to have a late dinner together and take a walk by the Cheonggyechon river. And, Byul probably made her laugh while they were sitting, their feet in the water, and they were flirtingㅡ a little more than usual, both high on how perfect that night feels. And then it just came naturally, his hand on her cheek and her face leaning towards his; their lips meeting in a sweet, and a timid first kiss.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Byul, because he knows that Booyoung is really romantic and she would definitely want a sweet proposal.

Who is the best man/men? - Byul's best friend or someone from his family he is close to.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Booyoung's best friends and music partners!

Who did the most planning? - I can see them planning together but Byul being a bit lost at some point with everything there is to plan and take care of, haha.

Who stressed the most? - Byul, maybe? Booyoung would be mostly excited and all over the place because!! they're getting married!!

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 - I don't see them having a very fancy wedding and instead something more intimate, with only they people they care about. But because Booyoung's grandparents are attached to tradition, they still would have to wear hanboks and get married properly.| 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Acquaintances and friends they only hear about once a year, probably.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Depends of the mood! Mostly Byul, I'd say, but sometimes Booyoung ends up on top.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Once again, it depends of the mood. Once they've gone past their hesitations and embarrassment, they'll probably feel comfortable enough to show the other when they are in the mood.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 - I think that when they are not countries apart, they want to make the most out of the time together and it does involve regular sex. But then it happens that even when they're in the same city, they're both busy and they have to work on finding a balance on their personal lives and their work. | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 - I see them as a rather vanilla couple who enjoy trying out new positions and maybe use some toys to spice things up but they mostly enjoy the connection making love brings between them. | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - It depends if they're tired or not. Or if they take their time or not. Perhaps between 30 min and one hour?

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Yes! I feel like it's important to them that they both give as much as they've received.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time - while they might spice things up every so often, I feel like they are rarely rough in bed, because it doesn't really fit their personalities. | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 - every opportunity is a good opportunity to cuddle! especially when they haven't seen each other in a while. | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - they initially wanted to stop at two children, but then Booyoung unexpectedly got pregnant with twins, so they've got four children!

How many children will they adopt? - once their children will be all grown up, I definitely can see Booyoung suggesting that they consider adopting. So, maybe they'll have two more children, or maybe three.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Byul! He's a very helpful father and doesn't hesitate to be on diapers duty.

Who is the stricter parent? - None of them are really strict.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Byul, because Booyoung is the one to encourage them to go on adventures, pft.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Booyoung, because Byul is the one dressing the kids for school. (If that was Booyoung, she'd undoubtedly make their kids wear hanboks!)

Who is the more loved parent? - no differences in this house, they all love each other very much

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - both, they both want to be here for their children in every moment of their lives, including stressful PTA meetings.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Byul, because he's remembered how far he has come since he has himself graduated and he feels incredibly happy to be able to see his own children graduate.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - I can see Byul doing that too! But, let's be honest, Booyoung would do anything for their children too.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Booyoung. She's good with her hands, and her grandmother has taught her how to cook since a young age.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - None of them are very picky, they even have similar taste so it's easy to choose what dishes they'll eat.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Together as often as they can, and if one is busy, the other will go alone.

How often do they bake desserts? - Rarely, they prefer to buy them directly at the bakery. At least they're certain to not be disappointed!

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Meat lovers.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Both! Booyoung is a romantic and definitely remember their anniversaries and would cook something very nice for dinner, but I also can see Byul making an effort and actually cooking dinner for Booyoung to surprise her.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Maybe Booyoung, especially on days where they are too tired to cook but don't want to order take-out food. And she'd always say that it always feels like they're going out on a date when they eat out.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentaly while cooking? - Byul? I'm not sure, haha. None of them.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Both, we like sharing chores in this house!

Who is really against chores? - Both, too. They both have their days where they absolutely don't want to clean so the other finds a way to motivate them. Maybe with little smooches and sweet words.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Byul, probably. Booyoung isn't against it but she always manages to convince him to do it instead.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - None of them, they like their house clean!

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - They don't really stress out unless Booyoung's grandparents are visiting and in that case both are stressed!

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - I can see Byul in that situation, haha.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Booyoung, especially because she's always having a little concert while she's showering, haha. And if they're bathing together, it lasts even longer!

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Both of them because it's relaxing to be walking outside together with the dog.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Booyoung loves tradition so... Every time there's a holiday coming around, you can be sure that the house will be decorated!

What are their goals for the relationship? - Communication and respect and love. I think they want a healthy relationship in which they aren't afraid to tell each other how they feel, even when they aren't feeling good.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Before they become parents, both. Then, none of them. They forget what it means to oversleep, haha.

Who plays the most pranks? - Both! Honestly, they can be such kids at times, I can see them running around the apartment having a water fight or a tickle fightㅡ or even a random pillow fight when they're supposed to be watching something on TV.

#( booyoung: answer. )#pathwae #( thank you for sending this! )#( hope it's accurate haha )#( and that you like it! )

1 note · View note

shesawriter39049 · 4 years

Text

|ROLL DEEP|M| P.1

*Yoongi centered fic with a shared OT7 plot*

CH.1.1 CH. 1.2

**Operation: What’s eating blue!?***

_________________________________________________________

“Stop, this stopped being a you, thing and became a us thing the minute we chose to show up here tonight! You gave us an out and we stayed...we will always stay...”

1.2 K Sneak Peek

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Sugar baby AU/Suspense/Smut/Angst/Roomate AU/FWB AU

WC: 7K

Nonsexual Warnings: Mentions of drug use (Molly/weed/)Strong language/ Alcohol addictions/ brief mentions/ speculations of domestic violence/abuse

Sexual Warnings: Oral (M & F receiving) power bottom Min Yoongi, cum play, breath play, spanking, dirty talk, Slight overestimation, sex toys (Cock rings....) Semi-public sex (A chill little blow job in the car) The sexual warnings are for both parts of CH.1 so the smut is split in half!

NOTE: Just to clarify the dynamic Yoongi and the OC are roommates who hookup on the side, they are BOTH sugar babies to two separate people! So yes, that would imply that Yoongi and some of the other boys who are also sugar babies are Bi. There is no MxM but there is mentions of it occasionally….as well as some harmless ot7 flirting! Also all of the boys are introed, Tae and Joon just play a lager part here!

_______________________________________________

I guess, fuck where do we even start? Maybe, will go back to where it all technically started, which was the last time things felt...somewhat normal yeah?

So, that would be...hmm...about 2 weeks shy of you heading into Junior year at USC right? The day your boys picked you up at the airport, and the three of your treated Blue, aka TaeTae to brunch!?

Well, wait let’s back track a little it all started much eariler than that, because you weren’t even aware of your brunch plans until later in the day. So Initially the day in question kicks of with you, in oversized blacked out CHLOE shades, hungover as fuck, sat in at the airport one Sunday afternoon. Smack dab in the middle of Terminal 6, in a bar called Blu2o sipping on a Bloody Mary, scrolling aimlessly through Snapchat. While simotaniously being told for the very first time ...that you’ll be attending a “Haute Couture” themed charity auction...on Tuesday! Yup, the day after tomorrow! Thank god he can’t see your damn face right now, biting down on your straw to muzzle yourself!

“No, babe it’s fine, I’ll just hit Rodeo tomorrow morning, and I’m sure my nail and lash girl can fit me-Oh you...haven’t gotten... what ...your wearing either?” Parroting the words back In slow motion as if it would make the words sound better or something!

Oh for fucks sake! Bringing your forehead flush to the marble bartop already feeling a full blown migraine brewing at the nape of your neck. Giving yourself a couple moments to self compose, this man is so damn unorganized it’s unfucking real. His personal assistant better be the 2nd highest paid person within his entire company because…..This is far from new, I don’t even know why your suprised and I’d say you don’t get paid enough for this....but ya do! So you suck it up, lose the attitude and slip right into your “Yes sir” or maybe I should say ‘Yes daddy” voice.

“Don’t worry about it, I know your busy. I totally get it, your a 28 waist right? Of course, I remember...I remember everything you tell me….Ohhh your gonna let me put you in color too???” Eyes flickering up to the notification from your bank, noting a cute little 12k wire pending.

“Yeah, no, I see it, that should be good. I was thinking Versace or Cavili for you anyway...they have good prints to fit the theme, and if all else fails I have my card too…yup..just landed about..hmm... 30 minutes ago actually. Of course, stop apologizing, Sunday's are always your golf days, I get it, hey, tell the guys I said hi and enjoy your day. Text me later if you feel up to it..k....bye..”

Were you actually getting a little flustered there towards the end? It's the slight accent, isn't it? Honestly, it didn't take much for you to slip into “character” with him, even after barely being together a full month. For one he wasn’t an asshole, had a decent sense of humor, and he’s really fuckin hot...however there was one, little, well shit, not so little issue...you noticed while with him recently. Which, then sparked quite a few questions while also answering some that had been rattling through your head since the day you met. But will circle back to the fact that you spent a week on vacation with a man, while dressed in some of the sexiest pieces of 2019 couture! Yet..you barely got touched once outside of a couple chaste kisses and hand-holding while at the two fashion shows you attended together… so, yeah, yeah!

A low groan in frustration rattled from your throat as you continued scrolling through Snapchat, trying to come up with some possible outfit scenarios in your head! It’s kinda funny, how mynute all of that seems now though, how your definition of “Stress” that day was you trying to decide if your sugar daddy was gay, while also finding time to fit in a self-care day, shopping, and getting your books for school!! The fact that, that was what you considered migraine worthy, fuck, what you wouldn’t give to consider multitasking your only maltitude of “stress” again …..

Just in your own little world, mind swirling with a couple of stylists you’ve met along the way, considering the idea of them pulling some vintage pieces for you instead! What you should be doing, is scrolling through your contact list and texting said stylists, instead you find yourself more and more distracted. Getting lost in the mounds of snap updates from Jimin as he “modestly” sunbathed in a private villa in Italy. Then later sharing a glimpse into his shopping spree from Versace, no doubt a good 20k worth of Italian luxury spread out along the plush white sheets. Sending him a cheeky little “That’s my boy” with a couple of smug winky faces in response!

It’s still kinda crazy to think, things like that are considered normal within your world now, the fact that you aren’t even surprised at the number of gifts. Or, simply the fact that your barley 21-year-old best friend is sunbathing in Italy on someone else’s dime. Then again, you just got sent 12 thousand dollars to spend on an event that would last maybe all of 5 hours, while sitting next to a stack of Louis Vuittion luggage from your first class flight in from Vegas, technically. Opting to land there first after a long 15-hour flight, checking in at The Four Seasons for not even a solid 24 hours before coming home! Honestly?There was no real reason for the pit stop except it gave you an excuse to see a friend while also allowing you to unwind in one of your favorite hotels!

That sentence alone is actually absurd when you really think about it, the idea of you casually booking flights and suites in 5-star hotels as if you’re ordering off the damn dollar menu at Mcdonalds! You, the girl that was working two jobs at the Groove and mourning a piece of shit cheating ex boyfriend her freshman year of college.....is now reminiscing about catching flights to chill with friends and last minute finding dresses for Couture themed galas.Like, what the actual fuck is life.... Oh my bad, life at the moment is constantly being paranoid that you and your friends will get arrested! Life in this moment however...was a fucking perfect!

The friend you where meeting in Vegas was Hoseok by the way, the redhead was currently vacationing in Sin City for the next couple of days, typically residing in LA as well. Just Chillin’ before the semester starts, living his best life, which revolves around “OFF-WHITE'' shopping sprees, private dance lessons, and constantly taking thirst trap pics for his 10’s of thousands of followers online. He randomly texts you saying “I miss your face” you text him saying “I land at 8 tonight bring a bottle and sushi to room 605 at The Four Seasons hotel '' Simple!

Your initial flight, the one that was 15 hours, was originally from Paris, where you spent the last week or so with Jeong-su, being arm candy, sipping wine, sightseeing and of course shopping!. Barley 32 hours ago your Snapchat looked pretty damn similar, if not worse in comparison to Jimin’s but what can I say, you can’t be in the home of Givenchy and Gaulthier and not go to Givenchy and Gaultier!

What your life is, what you and your friends do, I mean, I think it’s safe to say it’s pretty self-explanatory yeah? The average 20 something-year-old in college isn't flying themselves out of the country or going luxury shopping without a little help. In your case, it’s typically thanks to a person you commonly refer to as “Daddy” now, the context behind the word however….is where you and your friends may differ from others…..

But that’s your business, your concern and more importantly your choice, and honestly for a while life seemed too damn good to be true...I guess looking back on it now, I guess that’s because it kinda was!

Sat at the predominantly empty bar alone, more than content by the silence, twirling your straw between your lips, as you scanned back over the shit show that was your schedule for the semester! Getting more of a migraine from that, then shopping or even the fact that you're still hungover and drinking on an empty stomach at half-past 12. Shooting a quick text to your redheaded best friend cursing him out for getting you drunk off your ass on a bottle of Yamazaki 12.

“Can I get anything else for you beautiful? Another drink or maybe an appetizer? We have damn good loaded queso fries if I do say so myself!” Waving the menu in your face playfully, the warm, inviting voice in front of you was the bartender, who’s had his eye on you since you swayed in. Even if you looked like crap for your standards you knew to most you were the farthest thing from it as you swayed into the bar like you owned the place. In your heels, and tiny little black dress, while an airport assistant trolied in your luggage behind you! Ohhh Blair Waldorf would without a doubt be proud!

“Mmmm…” Lips pursed in a slight pout as you raked over the menu, honestly, you were hungry and they have bomb ass fried pickles…..”Actually, yeah, I’ll get-”

“ 3 tall shots of whatever top-shelf Tequila you have, also add whatever she’s been drinking to my tab, along with an order of fried pickles with extra ranch…please and thank you!” Smoothly sliding his black card, and ID across the marble bartop for review.

Oh.

The look on the bartender’s face was fucking priceless, torn between shitting himself and maybe….nah, just straight shitting himself! Skin flushed, the sense of panic was clear as day, wondering if he’d overstepped that fine line between customer service and filtration. Considering whoever the person behind you is, clearly knows you well enough to know your food order. A forced bashful smile playing along his lips as he bowed out in acknowledgment, sliding the gentelmen back is ID and whispering out a faint “Yes sir, coming right up…”

The base vibrating through your ears instantly had you readjusting your posture, a strong tingle running down your spine, back arching ever so slightly. A playful smirk playing along your lips as you slowly laced your tongue back around your staw, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You sure you wanna do that? My tastes are pretty expensive..” Tone blatantly flirtatious, yet you still hadn’t bothered to even turn around, that’s when suddenly you hear a deep arrogant chuckle rumbling low in his chest. Only...this sounds a little brighter? And like it’s coming from your left instead of behind you…

“Mmm, I’m sure we can handle it baby….”

You could feel the air shift behind you, it felt warmer, and there was a strong mix of scents flooding through your nose. Leaning back in your seat, pleasantly finding your shoulders, the back of your neck, and your head, cradled against a lean wall of silk. Sighing contently, naturally letting your body melt into his frame, nose running into your face as you smiled so hard your cheeks hurt. That’s when a gangle of veiny, porcelain limbs wrapped around your shoulders pulling you even tighter against him, only to find brown, sharp, cat-like eyes staring down at you, though a pair of translucent designer shades. Seemingly a little bit amused at how excited you are to see him. Long dark wavy locks falling messily into his face, a tiny silver hoop dawning his button nose. Tongue playing at the corner of his mouth, letting the tiny silver ball slip between his lips. This angle lets you really appreciate how sharp, yet soft his features were, an oxymoron that honestly makes no damn sense unless you see him in person….jawline sharp enough to cut glass yet he has the cutest cheeks ever when he smiles. It honestly makes no sense whatsoever and he’s one of the many reasons you have trust issues. Well, that and your line of work, considering the number of men you find out are married and still try and sneak around with you.

Then, as if to just make his presence known, there’s another pair of hands making their home along your body, gently squeezing your thigh. Except, he’s polar opposite to the person I just described, the man behind you is your roommate Yoongi, the man who just took a seat to your left, is your other roommate Namjoon! First off, he’s tall as all hell, and an offensively perfect shade of brown, he can’t even go into the burbs without being asked what self-tanner he uses. In which he smugly replies “Genetics” letting them sit there and try and google said company that makes that brand of self-tan. Streams of meticulously placed colored neo-traditional tattoos paint his skin, accompanied by deep dimples, and bleach blonde hair styled into an undercut, sides buzzed into the perfect fade.

“So you gonna get up and give me a real hug or what???” Placing a kiss in your hair as he pulled back, giving you room to hop out of your seat and right into his arms.

The Full thing is coming soon, this is from summer 2019, I just have to edit, and reread the full thing again! I also wrote the first 3 parts all at once..sooo if your exicted show this some love anddddddddd come let me know!

Love you as always,

Rocki

#Yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi au #yoongi x reader #namjoon #namjoon au #taehyung #taehyung au #bts au fic #bts au #bts smut #kpop smut kpop au #kpop au #min yoongi

40 notes · View notes

gusdapperton-inactive · 4 years

Photo

Recently someone asked if I would do a gif making tutorial, so here I am! I’m going to make this as in depth as I can, but if you have remaining questions or problems, feel free to send me them and I will try to help you to the best of my abilities.

Disclaimer: There are many ways to make a gif, but this is the method I’ve been using for years. This tutorial is very long and may make the process seem tedious, but I assure you, once you get the hang of making gifs you could do it in just under a few minutes!

This tutorial includes:

links to all of the sites and programs I use

lots of rambling (w/ pictures)

a short masterlist of my favorite photoshop sources at the end

Links:

Adobe Photoshop CC 2017

PotPlayer (64 bit)

uTorrent

4K Video Download

Photoshop, PotPlayer and uTorrent are the three programs you MUST have for this tutorial. The 4K Downloader is for YouTube/Instagram, which there are other sites you can use for that, but I prefer 4K to make sure I’m getting the best quality I can get. Best part, they’re all free :)

Torrent sites:

PirateBay

yts.lT (favorite)

Nyaa (anime)

These aren’t the only sites that offer torrents (nor are they the only ones I use). When you download torrents, try to be careful; if you think it’s sketchy, go ahead and try to find another. It’s not as scary as it seems, just be aware of what you’re clicking. Some are total duds but I usually have a pretty smooth time finding what I need unless it’s something unpopular or obscure. Whatever site you’re on, try to use the latest links (past hour/day/week) if it’s for a new movie or ongoing show. Also, if there’s the option, download magnet.

PirateBay gives me an ongoing issue with their links, so I try to avoid getting torrents from there if I think I can find it elsewhere. YTS is my favorite site for movies; they’re trustworthy and I’ve never had an issue :)

HD/1080p torrents often start popping up when the BluRay comes out, so don’t depend on any site to have it the day something premieres. Usually you’ll have to wait a few weeks/months. Until then it’ll just be CAMs which no one likes!

For this tutorial I’m going to be making a gif from IT: Chapter Two (link- click 1080p.WEB). Once you’ve gotten your torrent, open up uTorrent. It’ll ask you where you want your download stored, which I always just choose my Downloads folder.

It’s normal for it to take a while. It doesn’t take all day, but 40 min-2 hrs is usually what I have to wait. My laptop is pretty slow, RIP.

After it says it’s downloaded, you’ll have the .mp4 sitting in your Downloads folder (or whatever destination you chose, but Downloads is the default).

Before you close uTorrent, press the torrent file and then delete it (trash can icon above) so you can delete it from your Downloads folder. Otherwise, your computer will tell you the torrent is still open in the program and won’t let you. You won’t need it after you’ve gotten the .mp4.

So now we have the movie! Go ahead and open it up in PotPlayer. Right click > Open file(s) and select the movie. It will start playing automatically.

Note: You need to make folders for the frames to be held in. Its been so long since I’ve set up PotPlayer, I can’t remember if the program made the capture folder that’s in Desktop or if I did... if not, go ahead and make sure you have designated folders. (If you’re making 4 gifs, you need 4 separate folders, and so on.)

Go to the scene you’d like to gif. The scene I chose in this movie is one of the end scenes of the young Losers Club on their bikes (2hr43min).

Slide the edge of the program in to minimize the screen a little for the next step.

Now, right click > Video > Video Capture > Capture Consecutive Images

This will pop up:

Here is a closer look at the settings:

The key things to look at are the Image Type, Image Size, and Numbers/Frame to capture. And of course, make sure you have the right destination chosen in the Storage box because that’s where your frames are going to be. PNG and BMP are the best quality for the type of image. Always choose the original size of the frames. And, make sure you’re saving every frame (Every # frame must be kept at 1).

Make sure to start a few seconds before where you actually want to make a gif. Sometimes (every time lol) the start will lag and you won’t get every single frame you want or thought you were getting. In my case, the screen is fading from white, so I’m going to capture a few frames where the white can still be seen before the full color appears. This way I know I’m getting the most frames I can, and I don’t have to redo it later when I think my gif is too short because I’m missing frames.

While the movie is still paused, press Start in the smaller window, then press Play on your movie. Keep your mouse over the Pause button and end it when you’ve gotten all the frames you wanted. Then, Stop back in the small window.

I’ve saved 56 frames to my folder.

The size of the gif you want to make dictates how many frames you’ll be using. Remember the file size needs to be under 3MB. Recently Tumblr increased that size to 8MB, but the quality of the gif will drop drastically, so I ignore it now. (Although, it probably won’t look too different if it’s at like 3.1MB and barely goes over that limit.

540px wide- ~30 frames and under. Because these gifs are so wide, naturally, they’re already going to be a large file.

268px wide- ~50 frames

177px- ~70 & up

These numbers aren’t concrete, though. The taller and/or more contrasting colors in a gif, the bigger the file will be. The shorter and less contrast in colors, the smaller, and more likely you will be able to fit more frames into your gif. These are just what I find to be the case most of the time.

For the gif I’m making now, I’m going to keep it at 30 frames, so I know I’ll be deleting ~26 out of the 56 I saved to that folder.

Tip: I rarely make big changes to the coloring of my gif if I really like the way it looks. If my gif exceeds 3MB, I’d rather delete frames. IMO, nice coloring comes before fitting in as many frames as I can.

Moving on, now that we have the frames we want, go ahead and open up Photoshop. Go to File > Scripts > Load Files into Stack. The drop down that says ‘Files’ I change to ‘Folder’ and simply select wherever your frames are held. For me, they’re here:

Press OK, let them all load up, then you’ll press OK again in that grey window.

It takes a minute for all of the frames to load up in photoshop. The more you have, the longer it’ll take. Again, my laptop is slow as hell, so maybe it will be really fast for you.

When they’re done loading, go to Window > Animation.

Then, inside the Animation tab, make sure you have Create Frame Animation selected:

Then once you’ve pressed it Create Frame Animation, your first frame will appear. But we need them all, so look over to that four bar icon to the right of the tab and press Make Frames From Layers.

They’ll load all at once, but the gif is backwards. To fix that, simply go back to the same four bar icon and click Reverse Frames.

I’m going to go ahead and delete the frames I don’t want. For me, the beginning frames are unusable because there’s that white fade out in the start of the scene I chose. I’m going to delete those, then go ahead and delete any frame that comes after frame 30.

Here’s where I’m at now:

Now to resize it. I like the dimensions it currently has, so I’m not going to use the crop tool at the moment. But once you’ve cropped it to where you like, go to Image > Image Size and a new window will pop up. The widest a gif should be is 540px. How tall it is is up to you. Since I’m keeping the dimensions currently, my gif will resize to 540x225.

It’s VERY important to note, where it says ‘Resample:’ you need to have Bilinear selected. This effects the borders of your gif. Also, don’t make the mistake of resizing it in centimeters instead of pixels.

Now that it’s resized, you need to set the the frame delay. I choose either .05, .06, or .07. Anything outside of that looks to fast/slow to me (but I know a lot of people who like the way .03 or .04 look. It’s all preference.)

To select all of your frames at once, select the first frame, hold shift, then select your last frame. Then press where it says ‘0 sec.’ > Other > type in however fast you’d like your gif to be. I’m going to use .06. Double check every frame says .06, otherwise it’ll stay at 0 and be way too fast.

Now, again, click that four bar icon and select Convert to Timeline. The Animation tab looks like this now:

For now, look at our Layers Tab, so we can delete every frame that doesn’t show an eye icon next to it (as you can see, my first 5 frames):

With all of the excess frames gone, select all of the frames you have left (hold shift again) and then right click > Convert to Smart Object

Now, we see this left:

And, technically we’re done with the very basics of making a gif. But you definitely should sharpen and color it for it to look ‘nice’ and aesthetic. I’m going to color my gif now. Personally, I rarely use psds. It takes way too long for me to look through millions of psds, so I make coloring my own for each gif I make. I have two of my own psds, if you’d like to use either of those.

PSD01- this is a super basic psd I use to make any gif look brighter and more vibrant. There are more details in the post on how I use it.

PSD02- I included this psd within another tutorial for how I do color edits.

Both of these are my base psds, but if anyone wants me to do a separate tutorial for how I color gifs on a regular basis, I’ll gladly make one of those too!

Once you’re happy with how the colors look, it’s time to sharpen. Select your gif layer and go up to Filter > Sharpen > Unsharp Mask.

Here are my settings:

(Amount: 100%, Radius: 0.3px, Threshold: 0 levels)

Now sharpened and colored, here is my final result ready to post:

If you’re wondering, this gif is 2.42MB, so I could still make it brighter/more vibrant if I wanted to!

To save, go to File > Export > Save for Web.

A new window will pop up. There are more settings that you should check to make sure your gif looks as nice as possible, but they’re also up to preference and can range from creator. This is what I prefer:

Diffusion is good for bright and/or colorful gifs, but if the gif is dark, I’ll change it to Noise to see if I like that better. Also, always double check you have the loop set to forever, otherwise your gif will only loop once.

And you’re all done!

Here is a short masterlist of resources I recommend checking out and use often:

allscallie (DeviantArt)

Their psds are beautiful, especially if you’re into making moodboards. Everything is very aesthetic!

sttoneds (DeviantArt)

More psds, especially if you’re into gifsets/photosets that are color focused.

BEAPANDA (DeviantArt)

Literally everything they publish is gold. From brushes, textures, psds, renders; they have it all. Their packs are extremely well made, too. I highly recommend bookmarking them. (The renders and brushes look beautiful when you use them in your headers!)

allresources (Tumblr)

There are so many photoshop resource blogs here on tumblr, so to make it easy on you, theirs is the one I recommend the most! The tutorials and resources she makes herself are really great too.

Thank you for reading, and good luck +.ﾟ(*´∀｀)bﾟ+.ﾟｲｨ

#gif tutorial #photoshop tutorial #tutorial #*

139 notes · View notes

jinned · 4 years

Text

bts react- you get them to rest

-namjoon bolts upright in bed, his mind trying to catch up on his thoughts

-”I forgot to do the final edits to one of our songs.”

-he rushes out of bed, leaving you sleepy and confused

-you saunter over to his studio, silently watching as he puts his headphones on an assumes the position at his desk

-immediately his eyes focus as his monitor loads, one finger tapping lightly on his bottom lip as he tries to maintain grasp of the ideas flowing through his head

-you hated and loved this side of Namjoon. His job has no punch out time. Watching him create something beautiful out of thin air always amazed you.

-but watching him neglect his sleep, eating habits and time with others he cared about was hard.

-you knew as well as anyone that you can’t put a timeframe on creativity

-you go into the kitchen and pour a tall glass of water for him and then dig into the cupboard for some crackers.

-wordlessly, you enter the studio and place the items on his right side before tucking yourself on the couch behind him, snuggling up into a fuzzy blanket that was draped over the side.

-”don’t forget you have a meeting at 8am,” you yawn and lean your head against the end of the couch. “I set the timer…the one for…” you start to nod off, barely able to maintain a coherent thought.

-”I know,” he whispers too quietly for you to hear. “I have two hours to work and then I have to sleep for four hours before I’m allowed back in the room.” he turns and smiles at your sleeping body curled up so tightly on his couch

-knowing you’re there to take care of him and remind him to rest, makes it easier for himself to stay focused to finish what he’s doing faster so that he can relax with you

-the sound of grunting and muffled words pulls you out of your deep sleep

-the sound is coming from the space between your bed and your door, somewhere on the ground

-you turn to Jin’s side of the bed to ask him what’s going on…only to find him not there

-”Jin?” you call out, clutching the blankets tightly

-”sorry, Y/N,” he pants. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

-you lean over and turn your bedside table lamp light on

-”aish! warn me next time!”

-Jin is on the ground in a plank position, covering his eyes with one hand while maintaining the plank

-”Jin…” you try to keep the annoyance from your voice. “what are you doing?”

-he lowers his hand and blinks harshly to adjust to the light before he starts doing pushups

-”I’m sorry I’ll come back to bed soon. I forgot to do my 30 minute workout last night and we have a really long dance practice today and I don’t want to let anyone down so I figured I’d just do a quick hour workout to make up for it and to help get my body stretched out and-”

-”Jin! Breathe!”

-he looks up at you, mid pushup and you see it all in his eyes…he’s exhausted.

-”Jin,” you sigh and sit down next to him. “please. you already work so hard. you don’t have anything to prove anymore.”

-you hear his breath hitch in his throat and he finally allows himself to sit down

-one of the things you had to quickly learn about Min Yoongi is that his greatest enemy is himself

-in the year or so you two have been together, you’ve watching him constantly fight against his urges to be lazy, watched him resist his desire to give up, or his need to run away from it all

-his dedication and strength is inspiring to say the least

-but then you noticed the little pieces of Yoongi starting to detach as time went on and the work got harder

-he started to feel antsy when he wasn’t in the studio. he couldn’t sit still if there was music playing, and he wasn’t able to turn off his brain that was constantly trying to think of new songs to write

-overtime, the hardworking man who pushed through his mental obstacles…was disappearing

-you debate on whether you should try calling again or not. you’ve already left four voicemails. It’s clear he’s busy and doesn’t have time to answer.

-it’s the third night he’s spent at the studio instead of coming home. Yoongi reassured you that it was only temporary, that he has to put in the extra time and effort because of the upcoming comeback

-everything had to be perfect…right?

-instead of calling again, you grab your coat and head out the door, finally tired of sitting around and waiting for something to happen

-when you get to the studio it’s almost three in the morning. Which also meant that there’s only fifteen hours until the official album is released as well as a new music video

-which means there’s no way he can be working on any final album touches

-”Yoongi! Open up! It’s time to come home!” you pound the side of your fist on the door to the genius lab. there’s no immediate response, but you hear shuffling and light music playing

-”Yoongi!” You pound on the door harder

-finally, it opens. there before you is your boyfriend…yet…not your boyfriend. there’s food stains on his shirt, his snapback is crooked on top of his head and his eyes make him look like a zombie with how swollen and puffy they are

-a gasp escapes your lips at the sight of him

-”I’m sorry…I’ll just be a little bit longer. there’s so much to work on.” he lets you in but quickly shuffles back to his chair and assumes his position in front of the screens

-”what do you mean? the album has already been finalized. you should be home, resting, getting ready to celebrate-”

-”oh I’m not talking about the album that’s being released this afternoon. I’m talking about the next one.”

-you stand there completely speechless, unable to properly grasp what exactly he just said

-”I know that look,” he sighs but doesn’t even look at you at all. “they just want me to draft up as many songs as I can. the big management people want a new album in at least three months. they said if anyone could do it, I could. I can’t let them down.”

-”Yoongi. do you hear what you’re saying?” you continue to stand in the doorway, frozen with worry. “you need a break. you can’t keep pushing yourself like this.”

-”it’s not up to you or me when I get a break.” he says coldly

-”you need to say something. they can’t just have you working night and day like this. you need a chance to enjoy what’s going on in the moment instead of constantly working for the next project. you need a break.”

-Yoongi leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. for a moment, he looks peaceful, almost as if he’s sleeping

-”I can’t slack off now just because we’ve made a name for ourselves. I can’t stop working hard.” he whispers, his eyes still shut

-”there’s a difference between working hard and working yourself to death. and right now you’re closer to the latter. think about your fans. don’t you want them to get the best music you can give them? do you really think you’re able to give that to them in this condition? at the end of the day, Yoongi, you’re the one who has to live with what you created. can you honestly say that you’re happy with what you’re creating?”

-bringing up the fans is a low blow. an unnecessary one unfortunately

-”okay,” he whispers hoarsely. “fuck ‘em. let’s go.”

-you smile as you watch him leave a voicemail on his bosses work phone telling him that he’s taking a week off and would not be taking any phone calls

-”no…that doesn’t make sense…maybe if I…”

-you’ve been listening to Hoseok mutter to himself for the past thirty minutes now. before the muttering started, he was practicing a new rap he was working on for the upcoming album

-from what you’re hearing, it’s not going how he planned

-lately Hoseok has been feeling insecure about his rap skills. compared to his fellow counterparts; Namjoon with his crisp yet intense flows and Yoongi with his speed and ability to convey his emotions so clearly with every syllable…Hoseok felt as if he just didn’t fit in

-a couple hours go by and he hasn’t given up. you busy yourself around the apartment, doing your best to avoid the bedroom where he’s feverishly practicing

-suddenly, there’s a loud bang and swearing that causes you to rush into the bedroom, ignoring your promise to yourself to leave him undisturbed

-”Hobi what’s going on?” you open the door and your eyes widen at the sight. the desk that was placed against the wall in front of the bed has been flipped over. pencils and paper and strewn throughout the bedroom. the comforter on the bed has been rolled up and twisted in knots as if someone was trying to wring out a wet towel

-”Y/N…I’m sorry…I just got so mad…”

-”what could possibly make you so mad that you destroyed our room?” you ask horrified. he looks around, the tips of his cheeks turning from red to a light tan in a matter of seconds. one of his hands raises to his mouth, complete shock overtaking his face

-”I just couldn’t get the flow right…no matter how slowly I broke it down and tried it just doesn’t seem fluid at all. I even called Namjoon and had him demonstrate it for me and I still couldn’t get it. I’m not cut out for this, y/n. I’m really not. I wanted to be a singer. not a rapper. dancing? yeah no problem but this? I just can’t do it.”

-”Hoseok. don’t you dare tell me you can’t do anything you set your mind to,” you walk over and sit on the edge of the bed, motioning for him to do the same. he sits next to you and you take his hand, firmly intertwining your fingers together

-”do you remember when you first started dancing?” you ask him. he leans his head against your shoulder and lets out an exaggerated sigh

-”yes.”

-”were you able to master every dance you looked at on the first try?”

-”no.”

-”then why are you being so hard on yourself? you know this stuff takes time and practice. you’ve been doing this all day. your poor brain is probably overloaded and needs a break.”

-”yeah I guess you’re right. It’s just so hard when Namjoon and Yoongi are able to do it so effortlessly,” he pouts and nuzzles in closer to you

-”yeah but they aren’t perfect. they’ve been rapping for a very long time. you’re still just getting started. instead of comparing yourself to them why don’t you ask them for advice on how you can improve? they can give you some feedback and help you.”

-”I guess it’s just my pride. I feel like I have a lot to prove to them. I want to be able to do it on my own.”

-”well get over that,” you playfully shove him. “they are your family now. you don’t have to prove anything to them.”

-he smiles up at you and nods his head

-”now come on. let’s go get some ice cream and watch a movie. you can practice some more tomorrow.”

-”has anyone seen Jimin?” you try to keep the anxiety out of your voice, but by the way everyone quickly turns to you, it’s clear you didn’t do a very good job

-”Y/N,” Namjoon walks towards you. “what’s wrong?”

-”it’s just…I haven’t heard from Jimin in a couple hours now. we were supposed to have dinner with my family. he wouldn’t forget something like this. I’m just worried.”

-you and the six other members pick places to go look for your boyfriend.

-”his phone is off so it’s best we go to his favorite places.” Taehyung states

-”did he say anything to anyone that might tell us where he went?” Yoongi grabs his phone and jacket and stands by the door

-everyone is silent

-”I don’t know if this will help…but remember how Jimin’s voice cracked really bad today when we were recording?” Hoseok ponders.

-”yeah and one of the producers made a not so funny joke about it.” Jungkook pipes in

-”well the other day he also read an article about how he looked a lot better years ago when he was all muscled up or whatever. I think both of these things really got to him.” Hoseok scratches the back of his neck and stares down at the ground

-”I know where he is.” you say and grab your keys and dash out the door

~~~

-you push back the double doors, the metal cold against your palms. heavy base vibrates deep in your chest as you walk into the gym, sounds of grunting and metal clashing together fills the room

-you walk up to the front desk to see if Jimin has signed in, but you see him before you even get to the counter

-his black hair is dripping with sweat, curled on the nape of his neck and flinging in string across his face. his white tank top is practically glued to his body, his skin glowing under the yellow lights. the black gloves on his hands move like lightning as he strikes. one two. one two. one two-

-“Jimin!” you call out, rushing towards the ring. he doesn’t hear you. just continues to bob and weave and strike

-his opponent is the first to see you. he gets Jimin’s attention and motions towards you

-Jimin turns around, his eyes widening at the sight of you

-”Y/N,” he says after removing his mouth guard. “what are you doing here?”

-”where have you been?” you don’t mean to raise your voice, but all the anxiety and fear come rushing in faster than any tide

-I’ve been here…training-”

-”you didn’t answer your phone. and Hoseok told me about what that producer said. and about the article.” you watch his expression darken.

-”I know that’s why you’re here. but please don’t listen to anyone else. of course your voice is going to crack every now and then. you never get a chance to rest your voice. and that article has no idea what they’re saying. you’re even more handsome now than before,” you grab his wrists since you can’t grab his hands. “Jimin please. you’re healthy now. don’t throw that away for someone who doesn’t even know you.”

-a few seconds go by before he finally looks up at you with a smile. he promptly starts to remove the gloves from his hands, waving goodbye to his partner in the process.

-”let’s skip my parents dinner thing. you need to go home and rest.”

-to put it lightly, your boyfriend is unique

-he’s one of those people that is able to view the world differently than others

-he’s unapologetically himself, cares deeply for others, and is crazy stupid talented

-you guess that’s why it hurts so badly to hear him question himself and his worth

-like the way he’s doing it right now

-”I’m not great at anything!” Taehyung paces in your living room, avoiding all eye contact with you. “I’m mediocre! I’m good at dancing but I’m not good enough to be a part of the dance line. I can sing and I’m on the vocal line yet get the least amount of lines. I’m not masculine or strong. I’m not creative enough to make my own music without getting any help. I don’t see why I’m even needed anymore!”

-you do your best to calm him down but he’s just too riled up

-”I’ve been working so hard to improve. I was really hoping with this comeback they’d pick more of my music. but they didn’t pick any. I was hoping if I improved my vocals, I’d get more lines but I don’t even get a part in any of the chorus’s. doesn’t matter how much time I put in. they’re never going to pick me. I don’t belong here.”

-”If they’re not going to pick you no matter how hard you work…why don’t you take a break?”

-your question confuses him. he stops pacing and finally turns to look at you

-”what do you mean?”

-”you just said it yourself. you’ve been working too hard for little to no reward. let’s go on a vacation. you could use the break. it’ll give you more time to think without any pressures from work around. plus I can help you draft up a letter to your boss about what you just told me.”

-”why would I write them a letter?” he scoffs

-”how are they supposed to know how you feel if you don’t say anything?”

-Taehyung is silent as he sits down next to you

-”you’re so smart,” he smiles and takes your hands, kissing your knuckles with a smile on his face

-”I know you’ve been working extra hard lately. But you should really tell someone how you feel.”

-”you’re right. I’ll tell the big boss tomorrow. but for now…can we just order takeout and watch a movie? I could really use a break.”

-getting this boy to rest is damn near impossible

-so the best you can do is to take him away from work and distract him

-would love to spend his day off going to the zoo, an amusement park, an aquarium etc

-basically anything he can’t do normally, he wants to do

-on one of his days off, you decide to take Jungkook to the zoo

-I=it didn’t take very long until you noticed him still trying to work

-as you walked to between animal exhibits, he’s dancing

-not full on dancing. that would draw too much attention

-but you see his lips silently counting the steps as he goes through them carefully

-”Jungkook. are you even looking at the animals?” you huff

-his back is faced away from you and the giraffes, his body swaying back and forth, doing small dance movements

-”Jungkook!”

-”huh? yes? what?” he spins around to you, his eyes glossy and popping out slightly

-”stop dancing and enjoy your day off.”

-he comes over and wraps his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder

-”I’m sorry. I usually pick up the routines so quickly…but this time…”

-”that’s why you have dance practice. you know… to practice.” you shake him off of you so you can look him in the eyes

-”c’mon,” you smile and take his hand. “let’s go see the penguins.”

♡𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝓊𝑒𝓈𝒹𝒶𝓎 ♡

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

111 notes · View notes

fancat-not-fangirl · 4 years

Text

It’s Not You Pt.9

a/n: ok so that took wayyyy longer than expected SORRY :/ (for those of you who haven’t seen Princess Bride, it’s an amazing movie and I totally recommend watching it)

3 weeks later

24 hours. Cas was 24 hours away from Saturday. 24 long, grueling, endless hours. He didn’t think he could wait that long. Yes he’d made it through the four previous days, but now that he only had mere hours until Saturday, Cas thought that the waiting would never end.

Because since he saw Dean Winchester’s car drive off the college campus the week before, Cas had been counting the days, hours, minutes, seconds, until he could see him again. Until he could look into those apple green eyes, and count the freckles on his face. Until he could hear that simultaneously soft but husky voice in his ear. Until he could wrap his arms around his soulmate and never let go.

24 hours.

Well, to be exact, 23 hours, 49 minutes and 14 seconds.

All he had to do was get out of bed, manage to sit through his classes without constantly getting distracted, finish his homework, and go to sleep. And then when he’d wake up tomorrow he’d get to finally finally see Dean again.

But first things first, he had to accomplish the first thing on his list. He had to get out of bed.

So Cas heaved himself off of his comfortable mattress and pillow, rubbing tiredly at his eyes as he glanced over at Sam’s bed, which was empty. Sam’s first class was at 8:00am, so he was always up and about much earlier than Cas was. Cas, on the other hand, preferred to sleep in, so he specifically chose his first class of the day to be Constitutional Law, which started at 9:00am.

Looking at the clock, Cas let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. It was 8:20.

23 hours, 40 minutes, 38 seconds.

This was going to be a long day.

******

He made it through his first four classes of the day. Barely. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Dean’s smiling face gazing down at him, and Cas practically had to hold his eyes open through most of his morning lectures.

But it was finally lunchtime and Cas took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air as he opened the front doors and strolled outside. He grinned and waved at Sam, who was already sitting at their usual table in the courtyard. It was a Friday, and although the weather had gotten colder over the past few weeks, Cas welcomed the chilly air. People were milling around, discussing their weekend plans, inviting each other to various parties. Cas breezed past groups of teachers and students, dropping his bag down at Sam’s table.

Sam already had a mouth full of salad as he tried saying something to Cas before realizing that all that came out was a garbled mess of words with a side of ranch dressing. Cas chuckled and waited for Sam to swallow, sitting down across from his roommate, who seemed to be growing by the minute. Cas nearly had to break his neck with the amount of craning that was necessary to look Sam in the eye. If he was being honest, Cas was probably more familiar with Sam’s various array of flannels than with his facial features.

Sam got the food down quicker than Cas thought was possible; a trait probably inherited from his brother. A brother who they both missed terribly, although for different reasons. Ironically, Sam talked about Dean even more now that he started seeing his brother more often. Before the Columbus Day weekend, Sam would bring Dean many conversations he shared with anyone that’d listen, talking about how much he missed his brother. But once Sam started seeing him at a more regular rate, Dean was all he ever talked about. Well, other than Gabe. Not that Cas minded. He could talk about Gabe for hours, sharing stories upon stories about his older brother. And Dean. Cas couldn’t stop pestering Sam about telling him facts and stories about his soulmate. But he didn’t think that Sam minded either. Any chance Sam had to show off his brother, he’d take it.

“I’m leaving for the weekends.” Sam’s voice brought Cas back to reality. He realized that he’d spaced out, and brought his eyes back around to Sam. “Me and Kevin have to work on a project for my Nutrition and Dietetics class, so I’ll be staying over at his place. I’m leaving with him today after my last class.” Sam winked at him. “Just don’t have too much fun with Dean while I’m gone.”

Cas blushed and quickly looked down. He heard Sam chuckle and raised his head, then whispered with a smirk, “Don’t worry. We’ll be sure not to use your bed.”

Sam choked on his next forkful of salad, and Cas left him that way, grinning from ear to ear as he got up and strode over to the food trucks. What was he in the mood for today? Not sushi or any type of fish. Salads were definitely off the list. Nothing spicy, so that eliminated Mexican and Indian food. Aha. Burgers.

“Double bacon cheeseburger please. No pickles. Thank you.” The line at the truck was short, and Cas placed his order without thinking twice. Wherever he went, wherever he ate, he always ordered the same burger. College was no different. Sam had tried ceaselessly convincing him to try something different. Either to eat one with pickles, or maybe to have BBQ sauce instead of ketchup, but Cas refused. He knew what he liked, and he’d stick to it.

“One double bacon cheeseburger please no pickles thank you.” Came a familiar voice, and Cas started. “Here you go, angel.” And he looked up as the 20 hours, 31 minutes, and 24 seconds came spiraling down to zero. Because Cas found himself looking up into Dean’s smiling face as the older boy stretched out a carefully packaged burger towards Cas.

“What? Dean? You- I don’t-” Dean let out a laugh that made Cas’s heart jump in his chest for the first time that week.

“Hey, Chuck, can you take over for a second?” Dean turned his head and called back to the other man in the truck. A muffled “Sure thing” was heard, and Dean sent Cas a sharp grin as he clambered out of the truck and to Cas, who threw himself into Dean’s arms the second his feet hit the ground.

“I missed you, too.” He whispered into Cas’s hair. They stayed in the embrace for only seconds before Dean grunted and pulled away. “The burger’s leaking ketchup all over my uniform”, he grumbled, viciously trying to wipe off the now red patch on his sleeve. Cas giggled, overjoyed that Dean was here. Remembering Sam, he swiveled around and was about to wave his roommate over when Dean put a hand on his shoulder.

“Sammy already knows.” Cas’s incredulous gaze found Dean’s. Sam knew? And he didn’t tell Cas? If Cas had known that Dean would be here, he would have chosen a different outfit to wear. Oh god, Dean probably thought that his knit cardigan was atrocious. If Cas had known, he would have at least attempted to arrange his hair into a presentable shape. If Cas had known…

“Don’t take it out on him, though. I told him to keep his cakehole shut about it or I’d chop off his balls and feed them to a zebra.” Dean winked at Cas. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Cas’s heart melted at that and he smiled up at Dean, although still a little confused. “Wait, so when did you-”

“Deano! Get your ass back in here!” Came the call from inside the truck. Smiling sheepishly at Cas, Dean ruffled his soulmate’s hair and gave him a quick kiss on the nose. “My shift ends at 8:30. I’ll explain everything later.” And with that information he left Cas standing behind the truck and returned to working the job Cas never knew he had.

Feeling a little dazed, Cas walked back to his spot at the table, everything snapping back into focus only when he sat down and was met with hysteric giggling coming from Sam.

“Oh, you should have seen your face!” Sam cackled. “It was definitely worth the wait.”

Blushing now, Cas looked down at his cardigan with a frown and started running his hands through his hair. “You could have told me to dress nicer today”, he mumbled.

Sam laughed and leaned forward on his elbows, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “But then you’d have gotten suspicious. It was better this way.” He giggled again. “The look on your face was priceless, though.”

Cas unwrapped his burger and smiled at the heart draw on the wrapper in sharpie. He hoped it hadn’t bled through onto the actual bun, and was relieved when he didn’t taste sharpie in his first bite. He didn’t know why or how, but this particular burger seemed to taste better than any other burger he’d ever had.

He and Sam finished their food in peace, but Cas’s mind was reeling. Dean? Here? Since when did Dean work in food trucks? And anyway, Cas thought he worked at the repair shop. It surely payed better than serving food, even though he knew that Dean didn’t like the, and he quoted, “Black Hole chock full of people with sequoia trees shoved up their asses”.

He shook his head and remembered that Dean promised that he would explain everything later. After his shift ended at 8:30. Cas smiled and set the timer.

11 hours. 30 min. 22 seconds.

******

Sam had left with Kevin an hour ago, so Cas used the peace and quiet without his roommate to finish his homework. Not that Sam was loud or annoying, but he and Cas always managed to start a conversation about something or other every time they were put in a room together. Whether it be sports, books, movies, art, food, or pencils, they always found something to talk about. Cas would be writing an essay when he’d head a small gasp from Sam’s side of the room, and swivel around just in time to see Sam sit upright in bed and ask Cas if fish felt wet or dry all the time. What would follow would be a long, winded argument ending in them not wanting to take up any more time with discussions and give up. Cas still firmly believed that water was not wet, but he never brought it up again to Sam. With a little smile, Cas decided that he would ask Dean and see what he thought.

Dean. Who would be arriving in 0 hours, 6 minutes, and 47 seconds.

Cas had made and remade his bed twice now, and he almost laughed at the irony. The first time he had heard that Dean was coming over, it had been Sam that went completely Control Freak, neatening his bed and rearranging his books to impress his brother. Now Cas was the one that was going crazy trying to make sure that his room looked presentable.

Realizing that he was pacing the room and probably annoying the hell out of the people on the floor below him, Cas sat down on his bed. His eyes travelled to his signed vinyl record. Dean kept promising that he would play some of his songs for Cas on his guitar, but he never actually did it, something about not risking any “tiny tot college twerps” bringing harm to his Baby 2.0; the guitar. In fact, Cas had never even heard Dean sing. Yes, at times Cas would hear snippets of a song here and there, maybe even some humming. But never any actual singing. Cas made another mental note for himself to ask Dean about his guitar, too.

Cas almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock on the door, and was up and across the room in a flash. He thrust the door open and was met with a bear hug from Dean. Smiling into Dean’s neck, Cas returned the hug and kicked the door shut behind them.

“Hey, angel.” He heard Dean whisper into his hair, which he then placed a soft kiss in. To be honest, Cas loved his new nickname. Well, not exactly new. His mother had been calling him ‘angel’ since he was a kid, and it had always annoyed him. But whenever Dean said it, Cas melted. The way Dean’s mouth formed the word, not to mention the gravelly way he sounded out the letters, almost had Cas on his knees. Like at the moment.

Their mouths collided in a kiss, and Cas moaned and arched his back into Dean. This kiss was hungry. Desperate. As if neither one could get enough of the other, which was true. Cas loved this. Loved the almost feral way Dean’s lips ravaged his own, and the small growls Dean made when Cas’s tongue traced the inside of his mouth.

“You look so damn cute in this”, came the soft murmur from Dean, and before he knew it, Dean’s hands were under his cardigan and all over his skin. Cas inhaled sharply as the warmth from Dean’s calloused fingers seeped into him. They were running up along his back, around his torso, on his chest. Dean was everywhere and Cas didn’t ever want it to stop.

Soon his cardigan was off and on the floor, quickly followed by Dean’s flannel and shirt. Their hands were all over each other, warm and sure. Dean’s mouth now decided to chart its course down Cas’s neck, and he arched his head back to give Dean more access. Dean’s mouth then traveled lower, down, down, down his chest. Cas was gasping, hands woven into Dean’s hair. Every time Dean sucked at a spot of his skin just right, Cas moaned and pulled on Dean’s hair. Dean obviously enjoyed it, and smirked devilishly whenever he got a particularly loud keen out of his soulmate.

And then they were on the bed (not Sam’s, just as promised), and Cas was a writhing mess under Dean’s hands and mouth. They traced his hips, his stomach, his chest. They turned Cas into a moaning, sweating, begging pool of goo that was addicted to the touch of his lover. But this was a healthy addiction. It was one that made Cas the happiest man in the world.

Cas suddenly remembered something.

“Dean?”

Dean stopped his meticulous worshipping of Cas’s body and raised his eyes to meet Cas’s. “Hmm?” He asked, his voice vibrating through Cas’s body, making him shiver.

“Do fish feel wet or dry all the time?”

Dean’s face broke into a smile and he laughed, bringing himself back up to kiss Cas in the mouth. They stayed like that for a while, just kissing. Cas didn’t necessarily care that Dean hadn’t answered his question, because this kiss was slow and soft, nothing like the one they had earlier. Cas couldn’t decide which one he liked better.

When the kiss deepened, he realized that he didn’t have to decide. A kiss from Dean was still a kiss. And Cas loved them all the same.

***

“So, you never answered my question.” Cas poked Dean in the side as they settled down into the blankets to watch a movie the following day. They had just returned from having dinner in the city, where Cas had learned that Dean had taken the job at the food trucks because he was lonely and bored back at the repair shop. Dean admitted that the pay wasn’t as good, but he’d also taken on the morning shift at an indoor pool not far from the college campus. Cas was thrilled at the chance of seeing his boyfriend more often. He still grinned at the thought. Dean was his boyfriend. He never thought that he’d be saying it, but he was glad that he had found his soulmate. And so was his mom. She had been ecstatic when Cas had called and told her that he’d found the person with his name on their wrist. After relaying the whole story of their little mix up to her, his mom had insisted that she get a chance to meet Dean, and invited him to stay at their house for Winter Break. Dean had looked like a happy puppy when Cas had suggested the idea, and had immediately agreed.

During the dinner in the city, Dean, in turn, had also learned that Cas had never seen the movie Princess Bride. From the sound of it, Cas was surprised that such a movie had even peaked Dean’s interest, but Dean had firmly stated that this was a movie worth watching.

So there they were, cuddled together on Cas’s bed, surrounded by a mountain of pillows and blankets, Dean’s laptop in front of them. On their way back from dinner, they’d bought popcorn and snacks, and were now up and ready to begin Operation Watch The Girly Movie That Dean Insists Isn’t Girly. Well, they’d be ready if Dean could just get his Amazon prime account to work.

And while he was doing that, Cas was determined to wring an answer out of Dean.

“Which question are you referring to?” Dean asked, scrolling through the saved passwords on his phone, trying to find the one for his account.

“The one I asked on Friday.” At Dean’s confused sideways glance, Cas elaborated. “The one about fish. Do they feel wet all the time?”

Dean chuckled and looked up at Cas with those startlingly green eyes. Cas didn’t quite understand how eyes could be that green. Most of the green-eyed people he’d met had more of a dull, stormy sea gray/green colored eyes. But Dean. Dean’s eyes were different. Something about them was so bright, as if they were a field where the grass was made of emeralds.

“I think that depends on whether or not you think water is wet.” Dean’s voice brought Cas’s mooning and staring to a stop.

“Water is not wet.”

Dean snorted. “Yes it is.”

“No. It’s not.” Cas shook his head. Dean was taking the same approach to this as his brother had.

Arching his eyebrow, Dean said, “Yeah it is. Something is defined as ‘wet’ if it is surrounded by water. Water is surrounded by water, therefore it is wet.”

“But if you look it up, water isn’t wet by itself, only when it comes in contact with other materials.”

“Oh and we should believe everything the Internet tells us. That’s rich.” He then threw up his hands and let out a whoop of triumph as he finally found the correct password to his Amazon account.

Cas rolled his eyes, and decided that they’d save this conversation for another time. Because right now Dean’s arm was around him, pulling him down towards his chest. Cas, in turn, wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and snuggled closer to him, breathing in the scent that had now become so familiar to him. He smiled and sighed in content as Dean’s fingers started tracing soft patterns up and down his back.

The movie started, and everything else soon faded away until it was only him and Dean, giggling during the fight scene between Montoya and Westley, jumping when the R.O.U.S attacked, gasping at Montoya’s fight with Count Rugen, and smiling happily at the end.

And when the movie was over and they pulled the blankets tighter around themselves, Cas had to admit; he had liked the movie more than he first thought he would. But maybe that had a little something to do with the person watching with him. The one that was now enveloping Cas in warmth and burrowing his face in Cas’s neck.

The one that Cas suddenly knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

#supernatural #college au #soulmate au #destiel #sastiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel novak #gabriel novak #au #fluff #destiel fic #it's not you

4 notes · View notes

momentofmemory · 5 years

Photo

it’s almost the end of october, which means one of the greatest, most terrifying exploits known to writers is upon us: NaNoWriMo.

there are plenty of super good survival posts out there, but as this’ll be my seventh time participating (six wins, hoping for a seventh), i thought i’d drop my own set of tips into the mix. i’m going to focus mostly on the practical details of how to write; if you want tips on the writing itself either search the writing/reference tags or pester me to do another one later :P with that said, ~on with the post~

Step One: Figure Out Your Goal

i know, i know, obviously it’s to write 50k, but what does that mean to you? are you expecting

polished prose, ready to send off to a publisher?

being able to write every day?

just throwing up a bunch of ideas?

a mix of everything?

all of these are valid, but they’re going to require different approaches. if you want jaw-dropping writing, you’re going to need in the ballpark of five or more hours each day, if not more. if you want consistency, you’ll want to look at your normal schedule and set up a couple times you know you can write at. if just you want words, pretty much all you need to make sure is that you squeeze writing time in whenever.

your goal will probably change as the month progresses, and that’s totally fine. just check in every so often to remember a)what you’re working for and b)if it’s actually plausible. speaking of...

Step Two: Realize Your Limitations

1. Typing.

imma get super practical here: your typing speed dictates how fast you can get done. if you write 40wpm (the average), you cannot write the full 1667 in a half hour any more than you can run a mile in under three minutes. it’s honestly not a bad idea to check out your own speed, if only to help you understand yourself better. in my experience, actual writing then works like this (using my max speed, 89, as an example):

Absolute Max: 89 wpm (baseline)

Warring: 70 (75% of baseline)

In the zone: 45 (50% of baseline)

Taking my time, concentrated: 22 (25% of baseline)

anything lower than your max/4 probably means you’re spending a lot of time either researching or staring at the page, so just be aware of that.

2. Time & Focus

this kinda goes without saying, but best case scenario this is at least 1-2 hours of your life a day, or dedicating full Saturday/Sundays if you’re a weekend warrior kind of person. it’s so, so worth it if you can make time for it, but also don’t feel bad if you can’t! doing a half nano (25k) or whatever you want is also a fully acceptable plan.

that said, if you do have time, figure out your focus too. if you’ve never been the kind of person that can type for six hours straight, you will probably not magically become this person when it hits Nov. 1 (though with practice, you might be by Nov. 30). i like trying to write at least 300 before work and another 300 during lunch. that way there’s only 1k left for the evening, and having words on the page just makes me feel better. experiment with different ways of blocking out your time in the first few days and see what works best for you.

3. Don’t Forget You Live in a Body

writing is hard work, you will need to eat brain food! hunching over wrecks your back, stand up and stretch every so often! you will hate existing if you forgo sleep for days! and for the love of charles dickens, patron saint of getting paid by the word, take care of your mother-effing wrists!!

seriously on that last one. i’ve ignored it in the past and thoroughly screwed up my wrists one year; don’t be me. keep in them in a neutral position, do regular stretches, and if you need to, get wrist wraps (i recommend these).

Step Three: Actually Doing the Thing

the previous steps have had pretty broad advice, but now it’s time to get down to the nitty-gritty. these are mostly things i know work for me, and therefore may not for you—adjust to your own needs!

1. Write for 15 Minutes Every Day, Non-Negotiable.

i don’t even mean this is a “write 15 min and then your brain will be tricked into writing more” kinda way, but like, literally. you’re probably not going to be able to do 1667 every day—sometimes you’ll be tired and just won’t have the time. you’re very likely, however, to have 15 minutes, and you’ll want to use them. Doesn’t matter if you write 50 words or 500 in that time, at least you’ll have done something, and that’s usually enough to keep you from feeling like just giving up the next day.

2. You Might Need Physical Spaces

i’m a pretty sensory person when it comes to writing, and having a dedicated writing space is so helpful for me. going back to the idea of being an embodied person, it’s a lot easier to get your brain into a writing mode if your body’s already there. some good options include:

coffee shops (cozy! food!)

a specific room in your home (easily accessed! do what you want!)

libraries (free! quiet!)

a friend’s house (writing buddy! easy access to sounding board!)

all of these places usually have access to wifi, which is a positive.

3. You Definitely Need Digital Spaces

i pretty much always write in the same processor, once again because it helps set the mood. the main options include:

google drive (solid choice, cloud backup, mobile accessible)

dabble writer (cloud backup, links to nano, dark mode, chapter options)

write or die (only for actual writing—a scary but effective motivator; save elsewhere)

word/pages/etc. (ready to go on your computer, formatting options)

scrivener (great plotting tools, detailed interface)

i use dabble writer myself (they’re a nano sponsor, so you can get it free for this month, and as a double bonus you get it half off for the rest of the year if you win). and no, i’m not getting paid to wax poetic about them, but honestly i’ve used it to win the past two years and i adore it.

anyway my biggest tip here is that i SUPER SUPER DON’T RECOMMEND NON-CLOUD OPTIONS. it’s very risky, but if you must, do a proper back up at least once a week. that shiz is not worth it.

4. The Timer is Your New Best Friend

because i’ve heard this argument before: no, it’s not a crutch, and no, it’s not cheating. it’s literally best practices. i’m personally a big fan of this online timer, and i let it run for 15 min every time i write. after each session i check how many words i wrote, then after maybe a quick 1-2 min break, start over.

you can totally set the timer for longer or shorter periods, depending on what works for you. i’m a fan of the 15 min sessions bc it’s just long enough to get a bit of flow going, and just short enough that i can convince my spacy brain that we can get through it without wandering. it’s also a fantastic length for warring, if you’re down for that.

5. Write That Idea Down for Lewis’s Sake

the original idea for the chronicles of narnia came to c.s. lewis when he was at a restaurant, and thank the lord, he wrote it down on a napkin. he wouldn’t write it until some time later, but if he hadn’t written it down, he might’ve forgotten it. why is this important, you ask?

BC YOU WILL FORGET THINGS.

if you have an idea, write it down in your phone or your notebook or the waterproof paper in your shower, because i don’t care how sure you are that you’ll remember it, you super won’t. i’ve forgotten many solutions to plot holes in my time and i still hold vigils over their graves. don’t be me. write it down.

Step Four: Managing that Inner Critic of Yours

all right, pay attention. i’m not going to tell you not to edit, because i would be a massive hypocrite if i did. i totally edit during nano. the important part is letting your editor help you win, not hurt you. and that means gaming your critic’s system.

1. Have a Dedicated Deletion Section

many people hear “don’t delete anything” and baulk, because for some of us it’s distracting and we want to rewrite that section until it matches our vision. so, i’m here to tell you: delete it!! rewrite entire chapters!! just save the original content as part of your word count. this is another reason i love dabble, bc at the start of nano i just make a separate part of the book, label it “delete”, and any time i’m writing and dislike a sentence/paragraph i just dump it into that folder and move on. this way you still get to keep the numbers (and why shouldn’t you? you wrote them!) while also writing words you actually like. plus, sometimes that line you deleted in ch. 1 winds up being supremely pertinent in ch.15, and now you can just copy/paste it instead of having to try to remember what exactly you’d said.

2. Acknowledge Ranting as a Time Honoured Tradition

think there’s no precedent for that 2K diatribe you wrote on the london underground? well fear not, because you can’t possibly do worse than hugo’s entire chapters worth of content on the french sewer system! or melville’s frankly terrifying obsession with the finer features of whale biology!

like, yeah, maybe you’ll decide later you don’t need it, but for now, embrace that soap box. dead white guys have been doing it for centuries and still get places in college syllabi. the least you can do is give it a place in your word count.

Step Five: Have Fun!

i know, i know, it’s cliche, but seriously. if this isn’t fun, or at least rewarding, why are you doing it anyway? so enjoy it! send passages you’re proud of to your friends! daydream about it in the car on the way to work/school! cry over a notebook about the twist you just came up with! nano’s a time of fun and exploration, and you shouldn’t miss out on it because you’re thinking too much.

also, this might be counter productive to put at the end of an essay on nano, but don’t obsess over reading essays on nano :P there comes a time when one must simply do, and nano is pretty much the definition of that.

#nanowrimo #writing tips #writing #reference #writing advice

8 notes · View notes

fluffleforce-mysdrym · 5 years

Text

Holy Fuck

Okay, so.

First day of school was today, and I got this sweet 4 day job, which is rare to get on the first week of school.

And four days is a long time, plus I didn’t know if I’d need to be handing out stuff in homeroom and whatnot, so I wanted to get there early so that I could get a handle on all the stuff I’d need to do.

So I arrived a little before 7:50. I figure 40 minutes before the day starts will be plenty of time.

And then the first minor little bitty hiccup happened.

I signed in and everything and was ready to go, except they didn’t know what classroom I should go to for the agriculture classes.

Mr. K, the teacher, is not on their list of classrooms.

Another sub tells me that he used to be down X hall and I’m like, okay, but the receptionist tells me to find an administrator and that one is near the gym, which is on the far left of the school, maybe a 2 min walk from the office.

Now, I wanna point out that I haven’t been to this school in like 3 years, only subbed there a few times before, and it’s a fucking maze. There’s an upstairs and I’ve been up there, but I could not tell you how to get there. There’s like 9 different long ass halls all this stuff. Now, there’s only 1500 students , which is about the same as the other school I sub for a lot, but this school is so much bigger.

So anyway, I’m heading left toward the gym, occasionally stopping adults with badges to ask if they’re an administrator.

I nearly get to the gym and a teacher tells me that Mr. K’s room is way at the back of the building. To go all the way back and then it will be a separate building.

I’m like, okay.

So I turn and start to head back to the office and someone else I’d stopped directs me to an administrator, so I ask them again for good measure and he says the same thing.

Go all the way to the end of the building. Then keep going.

So I go all the way to the end of the building, but it leads to a classroom and I know I’m going somewhere outside.

So I find a door leading out and I keep going.

Except all I see are tennis courts and baseball fields and whatnot.

And then I hear a voice, “You’re lost.”

I don’t even fight it. I explain where I’m trying to go, and she tells me to go to the end of the building.

Not the back end.

The right end.

So I go down the hall to the right and I go and I go and I go.

Finally, I come out of the building and there are 2 huts.

Beyond, I can see greehouses and another building, but it looks like that building is behind locked gates.

So I head out into the field and sure enough, the gate is locked.

But there is definitely a building out there.

So I follow the fence.

The next gate is locked as well, but the third one is open into the parking lot. I remember being told to go past one of those, so I go out.

There’s another gate, but I can move the chain over to get in. So I go up to the building and I can see that there’s definitely a classroom in there.

And the door is locked.

I am, most certainly, at the furthest point in the school from the front office.

And I’m already sweaty because it’s muggy and gross outside.

So rather than walk back, I call the school and try to get the custodian. No luck. I call again and try the front office. No luck.

By the way, this whole time I’ve been carrying my supplies bag with me that weighs 12 lbs.

So I shoulder my bag and head back into the building.

But first, I stop at the first hut, thinking maybe I can use their phone to call or...something.

No one answers and the door is locked.

So I go back to the school building.

And the door is locked.

I’m already tired, so instead of walking around the whole school to get to the front office, I lean on the door and peer in like a scrub and it works! A student comes and lets me in.

And then I see a teacher and I’m like, “fucking finally.”

So he offers to see if his key works for the room and we head out and he sees that the gates are locked and I tell him how I got over there and he’s like, “let’s call the front office.”

So we head back in and the ROTC captain is there and he calls the front office.

It’s like 8:20 by now and I’m told not to worry because Mr. K doesn’t have a homeroom so I probably have at least half an hour to get this sorted out.

The ROTC captain tells me that the office should have given me a key to the room. I explain they didn’t because they didn’t know where I was going.

He tells me to go back to the front office.

So back I go.

And they give me a key.

And back I go.

As I’m approaching the way out to the huts, the teacher that helped me sees me and says, “I just saw Mr. K. He thought I was joking when I said I saw his sub.”

Well.

After walking all the way back there I’m sure as hell not gonna take his word for it. So I decide to go talk to the teacher if nothing else. Maybe he’ll want to take the day off because I’m already here.

So I go out, but the gate I used before is now locked because it’s now after 8:30.

So I go back into the building and find a way outside.

And I get to the other building and it’s still locked. But now I have a key.

So I open it up, but there’s no teacher. Or lesson plans or rosters or anything.

So I go to check around the greenhouses and find the teacher finally and I’m so relieved and my hip is starting to hurt and my shoulder hurts and I’m sweaty and gross.

Well.

His wife was supposed to have a baby last week, which is why he’d put in for the time off. Except she hasn’t had it yet, and something got confused with HR and they put in for his leave too soon.

He tells me that they’re gonna pay me for a half day since I did come in and that I need to go see Mr. F in the office about it, after asking if I would come in and cover when he does go on leave.

So I go back to the front office.

And Mr. F explains to me that they’re gonna give me a half day and that he would like me to shadow Mr. K to see how he runs his class and whatnot.

._________________.

So I go BACK to Mr. K’s room, the furthest point in the school from the office.

And I shadow.

And I leave at 11:31 because he has planning and there’s nothing he needs help with doing.

And I call to see if I can get a ride because I still haven’t gotten a license.

And my mom’s at the gym and my dad is waiting for the renovation team to come finish the bathroom.

Now it’s too far to walk home, but I figure I can walk to McDonald’s. It’s just down the road I’m on and take a left.

So I pull out pokemon go.

And I’ve walked 4.9 km since I last opened it when I was in the car on the way to the school. I probably got a few points of a km on the way in, but not much, maybe .4-.6.

In the very least, though, I walked 3.5 km.

In that school.

That’s 2 miles.

In that school.

Trying to find where to go and then get the keys and then go shadow and then finally leave.

And no one can come pick me up.

So I start heading toward McDonalds.

And as I go I realize that this road is a LOT longer than I ever paid attention to.

2 miles later, I realized I wasn’t gonna make it to McDonalds and instead settled for Taco Bell, where I sat for an hour until someone could come get me.

So that was my first day of school.

4 miles.

4 miles while carrying a 12 lb bag the WHOLE time.

My left hip was starting to go numb near the end, which was a nice change from the pain. My feet hurt, my knees hurt, my hips and shoulders and back hurt. My bra gave me heat rash or whatever the equivalent is. I had a few minutes where I thought I was gonna have to just stop and sit on the side of the road like a weirdo because it was too fucking hot.

I am an idiot.

But at least I made $45. And will likely be going back to work there on Wednesday.

At least this time I know where to go.

#holy shit #i'm going to sleep now #forever #until wednesday

8 notes · View notes

calebthomas93 · 4 years

Text

Plot Summary and Analysis of Parasite

To me, Parasite is a devastating, brilliant story about the dehumanizing effects and consequences of Capitalism gone to the max. If you have not seen it, I cannot recommend doing so highly enough, and please stop reading here until you do because everything else will be spoilers.

The Plot Parasite begins by introducing an impoverished family in Seoul – two parents, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, crossing middle-age, and a boy and a girl, Ki-woo and Ki-jung, each about in their early 20’s. The film shows the family scrambling to stay alive by folding thousands of cardboard pizza boxes, and struggling to stay, for lack of a better term, modern, by attempting to find spots in their basement apartment where they can siphon wi-fi from neighboring businesses. Right away, this action creates an interesting effect – the kids’ desperate need to be internet-connected plays to a common stereotype of young people being phone-obsessed and spoiled by the excesses of the web, yet they do live, undeniably, in harsh poverty: hunger is a constant concern; their home is a small basement frequently pissed-on by drunken passers-by; their toilet is crammed in an elevated corner where one needs to crouch to use it even while seated; they leave the windows open during street fumigation to get free pest-extermination, despite breathing the rancid gas themselves. The mother too has an almost childish compulsion to check WeChat. It immediately creates in the film an ambiguity, a set of complications that is never resolved – are we supposed to laugh at these people? Cry for them? Root for them? It seems like all three and certainly the third, though they’re far from the type of Hallmark-perfect poor family one encounters in many dramas. The opening scenes also draw attention without straining in the slightest to show just how essential technology and access to it is for the survival of people living in poverty. The mother reveals that she wanted to check WeChat because she thought the pizza company was going to message her about folding the boxes for a small amount of money. Though no one says it outright, it seems clear that the pizza box job is extremely important for this family, and that if the kids hadn’t found a source of free wi-fi and gotten the WeChat message, the job would’ve slipped right on by to another just-as-desperate family. The event that begins the plot of the film is that Ki-Woo’s friend, Min, a college student, comes by before a semester abroad with two gifts: an encyclopedia-sized, jagged rock that is said to bring material wealth to the family in possession of it, and an opportunity for Ki-woo to take over for Min as the English tutor for the high school sophomore daughter of an extremely rich family in the city. Min says that he wants to one day marry the girl, Park Da-hye, and knows that one of his frat-boy college friends would salivate all over her if they were her tutor, but that he knows he can trust Ki-woo. Min also says that the mother is young, beautiful, and naïve – it seems like he is implying that Ki-woo might be able to seduce her, though it’s not stated explicitly. It isn’t ever made clear why Min thinks he can trust Kim-woo not to make a move on Da-hye, the daughter, and indeed he successfully does so almost immediately, but my personal suspicion is that even Min believes there is some intractable divide between the true poor and the true rich, such that even if Ki-woo is pretending to be a middle-class college boy, as he must to get the tutoring job, there is still no real possibility of romantic connection between him and Da-hye. Of course, maybe Min and Ki-woo just have a friendship built on deep trust, but the film does nothing to establish that if it is the case. With the prospect of a high-paying tutoring job from Min and some forged documents from his technologically gifted and artistically inclined sister, Ki-jung, Ki-woo goes to the rich neighborhood of the Park family for an interview and trial tutoring session. He is greeted through a gate-intercom by the Park’s housekeeper, who opens the gate for him where he sees that there are about a dozen sprinklers in the front yard, designed to make sure every inch of grass receives a perfect sprinkling whenever needed for a perfect lush lawn. The housekeeper comes out and leads Ki-woo through an incredibly opulent and stylish home designed by a fictional architect called “the great Namgoong,” who seems to be the Korean equivalent of Frank Lloyd Wright. The housekeeper has to wake up Mrs. Park, who is dozing in the sunlit yard. Mrs. Park then interviews Kim-woo in the house, saying she doesn’t really care about the documents (expertly forged by Ki-jung) that he’d brought, but puts stock in Min’s recommendation. She notes, however, that if Ki-woo isn’t up to par with Min, he won’t be able to keep the job, and she insists on observing him for his first tutoring session with her daughter. The stakes are thus laid out clearly as Mrs. Park leads Ki-woo upstairs for the session, and as an audience member, I was pulling hard for him: the elegance of the Park home contrasted with the squalor of the Kim basement makes it understood that even a six-hour a week job with the rich family would be life-changing for Ki-woo. It is one of the most exciting and triumphant releases of the film when Ki-woo absolutely crushes the first tutoring session, providing Da-hye with a new, aggressive test-taking philosophy that establishes him as an authority to be respected by both the mother and daughter – so much so that Mrs. Park voluntarily pays him even more than she was paying Min, whom she spoke so highly of that one wonders if he had a romantic relationship with the mother as well. The exhilarating and comedic rush of Ki-woo’s first tutoring session continues for the next 40 minutes or so of the film as the Kim family unleashes a plot to get all four of themselves on the Park payroll. Immediately after the first tutoring session, Mrs. Park shows Ki-woo some crayon drawings which she calls “paintings” made by her son, Da-song, who’s about nine years old. She expresses an absolute belief, groan-inducing for the audience, that her son is an expressive genius. Ki-woo humors her masterfully and suggests that, with a bit of training, Da-song could become a generational artist. Mrs. Park latches onto the idea, and Ki-woo has an epiphany when he remembers that he has a cousin who went to art school with a girl who had a true gift for cultivating artists, which excites Mrs. Park very much. Ki-jung, Ki-woo’s sister, is, of course, this gifted artist and teacher who studied in the US. She memorizes some biographical information that Ki-woo made up for her, does a bit of research into “art therapy,” and ad libs the rest. Her vibe is quite different from Ki-woo’s when she enters the home. Whereas he was polite and deferential until the tutoring session began, Ki-jung is aloof and commanding right away, giving off an aura of self-confident control. Though Mrs. Park attempts to demand to observe Ki-jung’s first tutoring session with the son, Da-song, Ki-jung shuts her down and says she never tutors in front of parents. Mrs. Park obeys but is obviously unsure if she wants to stick with this new girl. She gets the housekeeper to go up to Da-song’s room to see how things are going – the housekeeper isn’t a parent, after all – but Ki-jung is already done, sitting quietly at a table with the usually wild and unruly Da-song. She then totally convinces Mrs. Park of her genius by asking if something happened to Da-song when he was in first grade, saying she gathered that he’d suffered trauma by a mark in the lower right corner of his drawing, which is where most artists store their trauma. It’s a funny moment for the audience, knowing Ki-jung is just ad-libbing, when Mrs. Park breaks down crying. She says something did indeed happen to Da-song, but doesn’t say what, and agrees to pay Ki-jung whatever she wants to keep leading her son through art therapy. Ki-jung then sets a trap to get Mr. Park’s driver fired, and she too is waiting with a recommendation for a new hire – who is, unbeknownst to the Park’s, her father. Mr. Kim goes to a luxury car dealership to learn some of the features of such vehicles, meets Mr. Park, and immediately sets to work flattering him. Mr. Kim drives well, garnering a compliment from Mr. Park on his “cornering,” and earns the rich man’s respect by stating that he’s been working as a driver for 30 years – Mr. Park says that he admires a man who sticks to one thing for that length of time, indicating a sort of socio-economic conservatism: Mr. Park likes people to remain in their place, and of course he does, because his own place is so incredibly high. The last person the Kim family sets out to replace, and the most difficult, is the housekeeper. She was at the house before the Park family even lived there, and does an excellent job – the only complaint is that Mr. Park says she “eats enough for two people,” but a few dollars a day of food is nothing to him. But with impressive ingenuity, the Kim’s manage to convince Mrs. Park that the housekeeper is infected with tuberculosis and must be replaced for the sake of the children’s safety. And sure enough, Mr. Kim knows about an excellent agency that hires out maids and nannies and drivers, and within a few days Mrs. Kim is the Parks’ new live-in housekeeper. The sequence is funny but still disturbing and tense – at any moment, with any slip-up, it could go wrong and the Kim’s could be back to total poverty, and if everything goes right it still results in the driver and housekeeper being fired by no fault of their own. It’s something the Kim’s wrestle with in a following scene, sitting together, having a celebratory drink in the Park’s living room while the rich family goes away for a weekend camping trip to celebrate Da-song’s birthday. They note that the driver is young and has “a good build” so he will be fine, but they all seem a bit uncomfortable when thinking about the housekeeper, an older woman who’d been working at the house for decades. They quickly pass that by and continue trying to enjoy themselves. They talk about Ki-woo’s relationship with Da-hye, how much she adores him, and the Kim parents get very excited at the prospect of Ki-woo marrying the rich girl. No one seems to care that they would then have to live the rest of their lives in a constant lie – it would be worth it to have real and permanent access to such wealth. They even discuss hiring actors to play Ki-woo’s parents at the wedding. Ki-woo notes that it’s Ki-jung who really seems to belong in the upper class – the way she luxuriates in the bathtub being his strongest source of data, seemingly observing that the most important trait of the rich is fully and composedly enjoying their riches. The Kim children then note how kind Mrs. Park is. Mrs. Kim, in one of the few explicit acknowledgements of the way wealth influences behavior in the film by its characters, scoffs and says that she’d be nice too if she had that much money – that it’s much easier to be nice when you don’t have to worry about keeping a family fed and housed. The scene in the living room gets momentarily heated when the family disparages Mr. Kim in comparison to the successful Mr. Park. Mr. Kim throws the liquor glasses off the table and acts as if he’s about to hit his wife for her insult, then bursts out laughing. The whole family laughs, and the audience is relieved, not wanting the family to start fragmenting just as they’ve all made it to a place of seeming stability, with four tethers to the Park family and all the money and comfort they represent. And then there is a ring at the gate-intercom. Mrs. Kim gets up to answer it, as the only person who should still be in the house at that time. It’s the old housekeeper, saying she really needs to get something out of the basement of the house. Mrs. Kim, in an apparent act of pity towards the older woman, lets her in. The housekeeper looks beat up, aside from being soaked by the pouring rain that becomes an important plot point as the night wears on – already stricken physically by the roughness of joblessness in a harshly capitalistic society. Mrs. Kim follows the housekeeper into the basement, where the housekeeper is attempting to move a heavy cabinet. With Mrs. Kim’s help, they reveal a secret passageway that the housekeeper says the Park family doesn’t know about – that the architect had built in case of emergency. It’s here that some audience members, who expected a horror movie, asked, “is this where the horror part starts?” The housekeeper and Mrs. Kim go down multiple flights of stairs to a creepy secret room with a man living in it. The housekeeper embraces him and starts feeding him from a bottle, which he suckles hungrily, having been trapped down there since the housekeeper was fired. It turns out that he is the housekeeper’s husband, and he lives down there because he’s hunted by loan sharks – he attempted to stake out his own living with a “King Castella” cake shop, a food craze that swept Korea and led to a huge glut of shops before the bubble burst and left thousands of hopeful business-owners in massive debt. The man in the basement, Geun-sae, says that even after over four years in that secret room the loan sharks will still try to find him, and will kill him if he doesn’t have their money. So he stays down below, waiting for his wife to bring him food (the reason she “eats for two,” from Mr. Park’s perspective), and thanking Mr. Park with devout reverence for his provisions via Morse code communicated across lamps that wire down to the room, representative of the admiration the poor have for the rich, cultivated largely by a society that makes the poor’s existence contingent on the decisions of the upper class. It’s revealed that the trauma Da-song had suffered in first grade had been “seeing a ghost,” which had been Geun-sae coming upstairs in the middle of the night to get some food. Mrs. Kim is just preparing to call the police, completely unsympathetic to Geun-sae’s predicament if it’s going to threaten her own newfound security, when the rest of the Kim family, who had been spying on the scene from the secret stairway, tumbles into the scene. The housekeeper quickly gathers that they’re a family and deftly records a video of the four and has it ready to send to Mr. Park – all she has to do is press send, and the entire ruse will be up. Using the phone like a gun, she leads everyone upstairs, and she and Geun-sae take the couch that the Kim family had just been seated at, forcing them to kneel on the floor as they consider their next move and enjoy some of the Park family’s food. The housekeeper loses focus for just a second, and Ki-woo rushes her, knocking the phone from her hands. All six characters begin fighting each other for the phone, Ki-jung even dumps a bag of peaches on the housekeeper, who is fiercely allergic to them – all possible regard for each other stripped away by the stakes of access to the Park family wealth. As the Kim family gets control of the situation, the gate-intercom rings again. Mrs. Kim answers it, and it’s Mrs. Park calling from their car – she says they called off the camping trip because the rain had flooded the campsite, and would be home in eight minutes so could Mrs. Kim please make some Ram-Dan. In the ensuing chaos, the Kim family attempting to pull off a herculean feat of cooking, cleaning, and brutal suppression of two other people to keep their place in the home, the kids and Mr. Kim wrestle the housekeeper and her husband back down into the basement and sweep the mess that had been made before and during the fight under furniture while Mrs. Kim whips up “Ram-Dan,” a meal she’d never heard of. Just as the Park’s are coming inside, the housekeeper, her feet tied up, comes hopping up the stairs to the kitchen, and Mrs. Kim kicks her down the stairs and shuts the door. The housekeeper falls backwards down the stairs and her head slams against concrete with a sickening thud. The scene cuts back to Mrs. Park sitting down to enjoy the Ram-Dan. It’s only here that it really feels like things have gone too far, that the Kim family has truly allowed greed to overtake them as opposed to simply operating selfishly by necessity. Before Mrs. Kim kicked the housekeeper down the stairs, there was a sense of scrambling “all’s fair in love and war (and late-stage capitalism)” improvisation, stressful but basically justified, a family trying to survive with guts and guile. But despite this sudden sense of change, one is still left without a clear feeling of how and when to have pulled out of the lie – should Mrs. Kim, and would you, audience-member, have allowed the housekeeper to come up into the kitchen? It would have destroyed everything. The Kims would have likely been arrested, in an even worse position than before. Or would you, too, have swiftly and almost mindlessly placed your foot in the chest of the bound woman on the stairs, not even thinking twice about her life to preserve yourself? There had been a sign before Mrs. Kim kicked the housekeeper down the stairs that something was becoming warped in the Kim family. All four family-members on the Park payroll, they’d been in their basement apartment. Mr. Kim toasted Mr. Park, the family thanking him for his success which allowed them to be so prosperous in turn, never considering that the type of lavish prosperity Mr. Park enjoyed might just be the reason that the norm for so many in their country was desolate poverty. The same drunken man from the beginning of the film starts pissing on their house and the family groans. Instead of just watching, as they had before until Min came along and told the guy off, Ki-woo grabs the rock that Min had given them and starts to go outside. The audience barely has time to wonder if he’s going to scare the guy with the heavy, jagged rock or actually hit him with it, likely killing him, before Mr. Kim gives his son a bottle of water to use instead, diffusing the tension again. But when Mrs. Kim kicks the housekeeper down the stairs, it becomes clear that the struggle to attain comfort and stability in the harshly unequal society has demanded of the Kims not just cleverness and a certain disregard for others well-being, but also a ruthlessness, a brutality towards life itself, and it’s hardened them, this greed that’s come into their lives, symbolized by the rock and encouraged by capitalistic structures. The Kim’s have to continue to hide in the Park home until the family goes to sleep, but before they do, they hear Mr. and Mrs. Park disparaging the smell of Mr. Kim, comparing it to an odor of boiled rags. It harkens back to another earlier scene, a tense moment when Da-song says that all four of his family’s new workers smell the same. The observation gets laughed off, and later, back at home, Mr. Kim says they need to start using different soap when they shower. Ki-jung says it isn’t the soap that makes them smell the same – it’s living in a shitty basement apartment. The smell that Mr. Kim apparently carries most heavily, the smell the Parks laugh at and make fun of him for and sometimes plug their noses from, is the smell of poverty. When the Parks go to sleep, Mr. Kim and his kids sneak out of the home and into the still-pouring rain. It’s clear that it must be deep into the a.m. hours by this point, and the sequence from celebrating their infiltration of the Park payroll to the housekeeper’s revelations to successfully maintaining their ruse and escaping the house had been so tense and long that you feel exhausted for the family, these three that didn’t just possibly kill the housekeeper, hoping that they can get home and get some sleep. However, as they get closer and closer to their poor neighborhood, the streets become more flooded. By the time they get near home, they are wading through sewer water, flooding the impoverished. People are using buckets to desperately and fruitlessly try to throw water outside. The Kim’s home is completely flooded, water up to their chests in a claustrophobic scene in which they go inside trying to save a few precious items. Ki-woo grabs the rock Min had given them. Ki-jung gets the envelope in which they’d been keeping their cash earnings, but it’s soaked through. She sits on the toilet, the only thing in the apartment fully above water, sewage belching up against the seat and spilling over, and weeps. It’s a striking image – this girl who just a few scenes previously had been luxuriating in the Park’s jacuzzi tub watching a flat screen television now crying on a shit-covered toilet gurgling over in a flooded basement apartment – and it makes one wonder what exactly the film is trying to say. That lies and greed cannot be kept down, that they will explode to the surface, impossible to salvage or scrub clean – a moral message to apply to the individual? Or that the ills of a nation cannot remain buried, that they are beginning to boil-over, that the horrors of poverty that many wish to forget, including those who have been a part of it, still exist and cannot be ridden of by merely hiding from view – an indictment of society, an illumination of the most horrifically oppressed and ignored? While the Kim’s salvage a few things from their flooding home, the housekeeper regains consciousness and hops weakly to her husband in the secret room in the Park house. She unties him and repeats Mrs. Kim’s first name, telling him that she is about to die, but wanting him to enact revenge for her. She then fades and dies, the hideous concussion she’d sustained in the fall overtaking her. In the morning, Mr. Kim and his children are awakening in a cartoonishly crowded gymnasium filled with thousands left homeless by the flood, an image that reminds Americans of Hurricane Katrina news coverage. They all get texts from Mrs. Park about a party that afternoon at the house for Da-song in lieu of the camping trip. Mr. Kim has to go help her buy food and party favors, and Mrs. Park talks about how the rain was irritating but afterwards it’s always nice – how it clears the air of pollution. It’s apparent that Mr. Kim can barely hold back his anger at her privilege: that the rain was just an annoyance to her, when thousands were utterly ruined by it; the cramped homes and few possessions they did have destroyed by the sewage water, by a city that is designed to drain through the poor neighborhoods. Ki-woo goes to the house and up to Da-hye’s room, where they continue their love affair and afterwards, he looks out over the lawn at all the party guests, how well-dressed and nice and elegant and perfect they seem, and he asks Da-hye if she thinks he could fit in with them. It seems then that Ki-woo’s self-image is running against his dream of breaking, fully, into the upper class. He expresses genuine doubt that he could ever really belong, wondering if his class is something deeper than chance and situation but something immutable, emblazoned on the soul. With everything set up, Mr. Kim waiting in the bushes with Mr. Park to stage a little skit with Ki-jung when she comes out to the yard with Da-song’s cake, Mrs. Kim finishing the food, Ki-woo heads down to the secret room to, it’s implied, kill the housekeeper and her husband, Geun-sae, with the rock Min gave him. When he gets down there, he sees that the housekeeper is already dead, and then he is ambushed from behind by Geun-sae. Ki-woo nearly escapes up the stairs but Geun-sae catches him in the kitchen and bashes him in the head with the rock. It’s assumed that Ki-woo is dead, killed by the rock that represents material wealth, while everyone else at the party is out in the yard. Geun-sae wanders outside, the first time in over four years, face bloody, dead-eyed, holding a knife he grabbed from the kitchen, in back of the crowd of clean and smiling rich people, the brutalized lower class emerging into the sunlight to wreak havoc. He sees the daughter carrying the cake and stabs her in the chest in front of everyone, momentarily frozen by confusion – is this the skit? – and then stricken with fear. Da-song has a seizure, seeing the “ghost” again. Geun-sae finds Mrs. Kim, after seeing Mr. Park and yelling, “Respect!”, and attempts to take vengeance for his wife, while Mr. Kim rushes to his daughter, trying to stem the blood. Mr. Park screams at Mr. Kim to drive him and Da-song to the hospital, not caring about Ki-jung, and then screams for Mr. Kim to just throw him the car keys. Mr. Kim does this, but the keys fall short. Mr. Kim sees his son being dragged out of the house by a hysterical Da-hye, a huge gash in his head. His daughter is dying in his arms. His wife has been slashed by Geun-sae before she’d stabbed him with a meat-skewer sword. The keys end up under Geun-sae. Amidst this horror, Mr. Park comes forward to grab the keys on the grass and gags at Geun-sae’s smell, getting too close to that indelible smell of poverty that is so apparently pungent on Mr. Kim as well. The pain of such indignity and callousness, in all this horror and violence, Mr. Park still has the nerve to be disgusted by the smell. It drives Mr. Kim over the edge and he grabs the knife that Geun-sae had used to kill Ki-jung to stab Mr. Park in the chest. The rich guests don’t do anything, they just stand there in absolute horror, paralyzed, having never experienced life-or-death crisis before on any level. Mr. Kim simply walks by and leaves the property. Mr. Kim’s reaction to Mr. Park’s gag is a curious moment. Just moments earlier, Mr. Park had been quite nice to him – acknowledging that dressing up as a Native American for Da-song’s skit was demeaning but pointing out that he was being paid overtime for it. Geun-sae, of course, has just murdered Mr. Kim’s daughter and, unbeknownst to him, his son, and had attempted to kill his wife. But when Mr. Park expresses his uncontrollable disgust at the smell of the man who had been hidden in the secret room beneath the house, the man who had looked up to Mr. Park with devout reverence, who had said “thank you” to him in Morse Code every night through the light system, the utter disregard by Mr. Park of Geun-sae’s humanity awakens a rage in Mr. Kim. Perhaps what is awakened is a rage of class solidarity. Acknowledging Geun-sae as a brother in a struggle much vaster than any of them had previously recognized, even though on the surface he should hate the basement ghost with his whole being, negating Mrs. Kim’s previous refutation when the housekeeper called her “sister.” The denouement is narrated by Ki-woo, who survived the blow to his head after an extended coma. When he wakes up, he can’t stop laughing, despite the fact that he and his mother are back to poverty, his father is missing, and his sister is dead. One of the most heartbreaking parts of the entire movie is seeing Ki-jung’s grave – a cubby, like one might have had in grade-school, amongst thousands of others in a cramped basement, with a picture of her and a few small personal belongings: even in death, the poor get the bare minimum amount of space, just enough for the rest of society to be able to say, “here you go, now shut up.” The only time Ki-woo doesn’t laugh is when he watches news coverage of the murder of Mr. Park and the disappearance of the killer. The only time he can’t laugh is when he sees the events sucked into a larger narrative – the innocent rich, slaughtered by the evil, jealous poor. Ki-woo goes up on the hill over the Parks’ old home, now housing a German family who didn’t know about the murders that occurred there. He sees the light flickering, the light that Geun-sae had used to thank Mr. Park in Morse code. Ki-woo writes down the sequence of dashes and dots and translates the message – it turns out, his father had went right back inside the Park house after killing the patriarch, down into hiding in the secret room. Ki-woo vows to get rich – he daydreams about overcoming his class, making it all on his own, earning enough money to buy the house – his father walking upstairs and embracing him, going out in the yard, parents and son, triumphant and freed, into the sunlight. Then the scene cuts back to Ki-woo’s reality – back in the basement apartment, in the poverty where the movie began, and ends.

Class and Self-Image The thing that struck me most about Parasite was the distortive effects that the intensely capitalistic society presented has on people’s perception of themselves and of others. One of the most obvious examples is when Ki-woo doubts he could ever belong in the upper class, standing in Da-hye’s room overlooking the assembling party in the yard. This doubt comes after weeks or months of lies and the previous night’s fight with the housekeeper and Geun-sae, after wading through sewage water in his flooded home and spending the morning in an overcrowded gymnasium full of refugees, after hearing his father’s resigned speech about the futility of making plans – a striking comment on the sense of instability and impermanency that suffuses the lives of the working poor. Ki-woo seems to see himself as a stained person, in comparison to the rich visitors to the party. Just the night prior, he had observed how nice Mrs. Park is. Of course, and as his mother pointed out, the wealthy people don’t need to scratch and claw for every bit of comfort in their lives. They are never faced with the choices and situations that have constantly come up in the Kim family’s lives – between being ruthless or being broke, between being duplicitous and violent or being hungry and homeless. When such choices and situations are a part of one’s life, virtually everyone will become stained in the same way Ki-woo seems to see himself; they’ll get the smell on them like Mr. Kim; they’ll have to do things that the higher society would say are immoral, but that the higher society can avoid at far lower stakes. When morality and decency are divorced from consciousness of a society that makes adherence to individual values infinitely more difficult for the lower class, the people within that society will view it as a series of individual failures rather than a systemic failure when people in the lower class are systematically more likely to fall short of those values than those in the upper class. This distortion comes from both the rich and the poor – from Ki-woo wondering if the rich are simply, immutably, better than he is, and from Mr. and Mrs. Park having no awareness that the smell of Mr. Kim might be due to anything other than his own individual grossness. It’s part of the same distortion that leads to the Kim family and Geun-sae repeatedly thanking Mr. Park for amassing such great wealth that they can siphon a tiny piece from it to support themselves, never considering that the fact of his ability to have such inordinate wealth might be the reason they need to siphon in the first place. Early in the film, when Min comes by and stops the drunken man from peeing on the Kim household, Mr. Kim states that college students have “vigor,” apparently unpossessed by the less educated. Perhaps this too is a product of distortion, a sense put into the minds of the more privileged that a home is not something to be pissed on, but a sense withheld from the impoverished, because their place and their comfort and their recognition is always contingent upon what is most convenient for the more powerful classes (take Ki-jung’s grave-cubby as an example), and the society doesn’t want to give them any sense of entitlement whatsoever, even if it’s just entitlement to a home not covered in bodily waste; everything must be demanded, fought for – even charity isn’t possible when the would-be recipients are rendered invisible. In this society which both favors the upper class, allowing them to be divorced from the material concerns of the rest of the population – for instance, the rain which flooded the poor neighborhoods but only posed a minor annoyance for the Parks – and leads to the distorted view that the rich are inherently better than the poor, lower-class fragmentation is an inevitable result. The fight between the Kim family and the housekeeper and her husband is a fight for who gets to have a spot on the Park payroll – which of these poor families is more worthy to have a piece of what the Parks, in both families’ minds, rightfully own? It is the poor who are each other’s enemies, by necessity. From the very start, the film shows that there is little room for empathy within the lower class and the hard-scrabble lives they are forced to lead. The girl who runs the pizza van that the Kim family folds boxes for probably has barely more wiggle room than they do, and so she must be tough on them, unsympathetic, dock their pay for a sub-par job. The Kim family gives little consideration to the driver and housekeeper they replace and Mrs. Kim, when she finds out about Geun-sae in the basement, was going to call the police – the Kim’s recognize empathy towards the other working poor as a threat to the stable income they are fighting for. The housekeeper even calls Mrs. Kim “sister,” appealing to solidarity, to common understanding of what it’s like to struggle, but Mrs. Kim, so nascently a part of the middle class, refuses this gesture. Attempting solidarity with the rich is more immediately profitable than solidarity with the other poor, and the situation of the poor is dire. It is their situation that systematically forces the lower class to unscrupulousness, and the effects of this near-necessary behavior are felt by others in the lower class. The effect is that the offenses people in the lower class recognize most directly are the ones enacted by each other, while the much larger oppressions carried out anonymously by the rich are diffuse and imperceptible. It is like war: soldiers see the ones shooting at them as their enemies, because they are the immediate and visceral threat; they do not recognize that those people shooting at them don’t want to be shooting any more than they do, don’t have any more stake in it than they do; they don’t recognize that the people with a real interest in the outcome, who can profit by it, are nowhere nearby; that we see our enemies across from us when we should be looking up. The distortive effects of class – the way wretched lives lead to wretched self-image, and good lives lead to the self- and external-perception of goodness, that all are getting what they deserve, is also brought to light through the very fact that the Kim family, especially Ki-woo and Ki-jung, have to lie about their credentials. Ki-woo, who aspires to go to college one day if he can save enough money, is a legitimately good English tutor – the fact that he isn’t actually a college student has no bearing on that. Ki-jung, posing as “Jessica,” a Korean-native who studied art and art therapy in Chicago, is extremely talented with art and digital media and is also the only character in the movie who appears able to control the unruly and bratty Da-song, despite being, really, an untrained girl from a poor family. Both know that the Park’s would never give them a job if they knew the truth of where they came from, regardless of their actual abilities, of their actual merit. Just as the movie presents the way that class distorts peoples’ perception of themselves and what they deserve, it also shows the harsh truth that for those below a certain station, there is little opportunity to demonstrate any higher level of deservedness. They feel shame about where they come from and want to earn their way out, but to do that they have to lie, hid their true lives, which makes them feel shame as well. There is a harsh paradox just on the edge of formation here – that for the poor to prove their worth, they will have to do things that will make them feel unworthy, or at least as though they are not living honestly. The parents too are good at their jobs. Mrs. Kim is an able housekeeper and an excellent cook. When Mrs. Park calls and asks her to make “Ram-Dam,” a dish she’d never heard of, she makes a bowl in just eight minutes that Mrs. Park eats with satisfaction. Mr. Kim gets a compliment from Mr. Park for his “cornering” as a driver (though he turns his whole body to look at the person he is driving in the backseat). Throughout the film we see evidence like this that the station of the poor is not explainable by lack of ability or intelligence. This comes in comparison to the portrayal of the Park family. Da-hye seems like an ordinary, angsty teen; Da-song seems like a pretty ordinary young boy – his parents’ absolute belief in his brilliance is used as a joke, but what that joke might represent is that misguided, even delusional belief in one’s exceptionality can be used to justify one’s place. Mrs. Park is beautiful and sweet but brings little else to the table, as all characters seem to recognize, including her. Mr. Park is authoritative but we never really get any indication whether he is actually good at his job, value-producing as a CEO, or is simply in control of capital and must therefore be bowed to. To sum, the movie effectively portrays a situation in which, if there is actually a difference in ability between the rich family and the poor one, that difference is dwarfed by that of their comparative wealth, refuting perhaps the most pernicious myth of capitalist ideology: that our station in life is reflective of our deservedness; that the way things fall in “the market” are just and unquestionable. That’s prosperity-gospel bullshit, and Parasite puts it right in the forefront how that ideology justifies the position of the wealthy and the poor, and how it convinces people in both groups to believe it.

Crossing the Line Another compliment Mr. Park, speaking to his wife, gives Mr. Kim is that he never “crosses the line,” though he sometimes comes close. We are never told exactly what crossing the line means, but there is one scene while Mr. Kim is driving Mr. Park which provides insight: Mr. Park says something about his wife, and Mr. Kim says, “but you love her, of course” (paraphrasing – I can’t remember the exact line). Mr. Park’s mood darkens a bit and he narrows his eyes at his driver’s head before he allows the moment to pass. Adding this scene to Mr. Park’s statement that Mr. Kim’s smell does cross the line, and we can build a hypothesis about what “crossing the line” is: things that threaten the illusion; that call into question the flawlessness of Mr. Park’s life or offend his taste; that, consciously or inadvertently or without any control on Mr. Kim’s part whatsoever, draw attention to any of the many realities constantly concealed by his wealth: that the Park’s marriage might be based more on money and beauty than love; that underneath that money and beauty might be emptiness; that poverty and suffering and death and that awful smell exist while Mr. Park lives in a massive and immaculate hilltop home and feeds his dogs Japanese crab meat. The theme of suppressing poverty, hiding it from the rest of society, is a constant and powerful one in Parasite. When Ki-jung first gets her job tutoring Da-song, Mr. Park has his driver take her home. The audience understands that he mustn’t see where she lives or the ruse will be up – he’ll tell Mr. Park she isn’t actually a successful art teacher. Geun-sae is hiding in the basement of the rich family, and though he is no imposition on them down there, he still must be kept a secret – the housekeeper knows they would want him gone if they knew he was there. Mrs. Park appears completely unaware of the thousands left homeless by the flooding when she comments on how the rain is nice because it clears up pollution – indicating that the media chooses not to bother its wealthier patronage with bad news about the poor. The suppressed emerging from below is foreshadowed by the image of Ki-jung sitting on the toilet as sewage spills out into her flooded home. The following day at the Park house, Geun-sae comes out of the basement to have his revenge – but his revenge, of course, is not on the loan sharks that forced him into hiding or the capitalist system that led him to invest his life in the “King Castella” cake market bubble. How could it be? Enemies within this society become more abstract and diffuse and unfightable as they become more powerful and consequential. But the Kim family, the matriarch of which killed his wife in a flash-panic mindless kick of self-preservation, is flesh and blood and right there. And Geun-sae walks out into the sunlight, face wretched with his own dried blood, eyes betraying his madness, and kills Ki-jung in front of the horrified partygoers. Da-song has a seizure at the sight of Geun-sae, the ghost that had appeared to him a few years before. I don’t think it’s a stretch to see this as a comment on the fragility of the upper class’s sensibilities, the way they are protected, by their own class’s design, from knowledge of the reality of the impoverished, the suppressed, the buried. Da-song, this spoiled boy, adored to the point of near-worship by his rich parents, was traumatized by the mere sight of this person that lives in the shadows of his home. When he sees Geun-sae in the full light of day, he immediately begins convulsing. As Ki-jung is dying in her father’s arms after Geun-sae stabbed her, Mr. Park commands Mr. Kim to drive Da-song to the hospital. Even at the doorstep of death, the expectation is that the needs and demands of the rich will trump over those of everyone else. Mr. Kim is driven into a rage by the immediately following indignity of Mr. Park gagging when he smells Geun-sae: at this climax, Ki-jung taking her dying breaths, Ki-woo appearing already dead as Da-hye and others carry him past, Mr. Park still had the nerve to express his disgust of this unwashable attribute of poverty. Even if Mr. Park didn’t mean to gag, Geun-sae doesn’t mean to have the smell, and neither does Mr. Kim, and Mr. Park had joked about it earlier, quite on purpose and unnecessarily. In this moment of terror, the poor men still didn’t have the privilege of just being people; they had to be, Mr. Park had to let him know they were, also, poor, old, disgusting. To see Mr. Park gagging at the offense of his own sensibilities in this most humanity-shattering of moments – believing his children to both be dead or dying – was too much for Mr. Kim, and he lashed out, killing Mr. Park – and the news would say, nobody knew why. Mr. Kim goes back underground, taking Geun-sae’s place in the basement of the next rich family. The symbolism is direct: for such wealth to exist as that in the immaculate home, there must be something below, struggling to survive, on the verge of starvation, miserable, unseen. I think Mr. Kim recognizes this symbolism. It’s why he goes down there. He killed Mr. Park in a moment that seems like it could be one of sudden and complete class solidarity gone violent. Recognizing a solidarity with the lower class, something his son misses, Mr. Kim takes position down below to wait – probably for the rest of his life.

The Delusion We conclude with Ki-woo’s promise to become rich and buy the house and free his father. The scene illustrates the perniciousness of capitalist dogma. Ki-woo has hope that he can make it in the system – and likely, that hope is misplaced, and he will work himself to the bone to the profit of those above him. But perhaps he will become rich. Perhaps he will make it – some always do. Because just as Geun-sae is replaced in the secret basement with Mr. Kim, so the Park family is replaced by the German family: in capitalism, there must always be capitalists; there must always be haves and have-nots, and there’s always the chance (or at least the illusion of one) of becoming one who has, otherwise the system would collapse in the blink of an eye. But it’s that very hope that prevents so many of the have nots from collectivizing their power, recognizing that their holistic interest is in changing the power structure rather than participating in the rat race which will reward a tiny few of them but many many more of those that come into the society from a place of high privilege, as Da-hye and Da-song will. Perhaps even more sinister is the side of the dogma that says that success will come to those who work hard enough – if you end up poor, hungry, with unstable shelter and no opportunities, it’s because you didn’t work hard enough, and that’s proven by the fact that there are likely to be some people who succeed who came from a similar station. If Ki-woo succeeds in his plan, he will become justification for the continuation of the same societal structure which led to his sister’s death, to his father’s imprisonment, to his own and his mother’s destitution, to the desperation that plagued the family throughout the film. If he fails, it’s because he just didn’t work hard enough or didn’t have The Right Stuff ™. Ki-woo’s plan and the daydream of it succeeding comes shortly after his father telling him that making plans is pointless. Mr. Kim, who so many times throughout the film beforehand had advocated for having a plan, is psychologically broken – or, one might argue, realizes the basic truth – after the flood. He comes to believe that with poverty comes powerlessness, and plans only have value if one has some power to enact them and reap from their reward. He does not. His family does not. The lower class does not. Ki-woo seems to feel bad for his father when he says this – Ki-woo still believes, still has hope. Even after his sister is dead and his father is locked away, Ki-woo still has hope. Perhaps it’s simply youth. Mr. Kim has suffered through poverty for much, much longer – tried to escape it many times fruitlessly. And with this latest horror – the money they’d saved and their home being destroyed by flooding – he finally accepts that poverty is inescapable. And in a sense, he is right – within capitalism, at least as it is practiced in the film and arguably most of the modern world, poverty is essential to the system – scarcity drives demand, drives profit, and just as wealth concentrates in a few, so does scarcity concentrate in a significant minority, defining their lives, their health, even their deaths. Maybe it’s Mr. Kim’s acceptance of this fact that makes his smell grow stronger – at least, the Parks seem to react to his smell more strongly after he comes to this belief. It’s a belief rancid to those who would seek to justify and embrace the ideology of capitalism. Or maybe the smell is worse because he spent the night wading through chest-deep shit-water. Who’s to say? I think Ki-woo doesn’t come to his father’s understanding even after the horrors he’s gone through by the end of the movie because of his head injury, the physical trauma that leaves him laughing at virtually everything. It was a deliberate choice by the filmmakers to end with a shot of Ki-woo’s reality, sitting in his family’s half-basement, in the same cyclical poverty where he was introduced, rather than in the triumphantly hopeful scene at the Park house, hugging his emergent father in the sunlight. It’s a hammering home of reality – Ki-woo will NOT escape his poverty. Not because he is dumb or inept or lazy, clearly, based on the events of the film thus far, but because he IS poor in a steeply hierarchical, late-stage capitalist society. He’s fucked. And even if (God, the perniciousness of hope) he does somehow make it out of the struggle and instability, most like him will not, they cannot, it is impossible for them to do so because of the structure of the society. The stomach-drop moment of the film is not the shot of Ki-woo back in his basement, a statement that he will almost certainly fail; it’s Ki-woo sharing his dream of becoming rich. That is the end of real hope. We see then that Ki-woo is dead; we all saw it: we all saw the jagged rock smash against his head; Ki-woo was murdered by the rock, murdered by materialism: what’s left is a puppet, a parasite in his body. Ki-woo’s dream shows that he is looking right past the systemic inequities all around him at the golden image of utter prosperity beyond. He is looking right past all the others like him, all the other Kim families subjugated and oppressed and hidden, and if he gets a lick of power and wealth he will do nothing to attempt to bring justice to the system; he will give no regard to those in the position he came from; just as his mother rebuffed the housekeeper’s plea for solidarity in calling her “sister,” Ki-woo sees himself as a man on an individual’s journey, divorced from broader consciousness. He’s brain-damaged, socket-blown, delusional, completely sold on the ideology of inequity, of the dream and the hope that keeps moving capitalism towards complete domination by the few over the many until the many actually join together and demand change. There was hope until Ki-woo shared his dream. Hope that the horrors he’s seen caused by wealth disparity would light a fire in him to fight to shrink it. But no, he wants to live above, in full knowledge that there will have to be others hidden, starving, suffering below. If he makes it, he will abandon the overwhelming majority of the poor like him. But he won’t make it, because he is poor.

The Parasite As I’ve already noted, I think the film’s title could refer to Ki-woo’s state at the end: animated by the hollow spirit of materialist dreams and pseudo self-elevation, the base of the ideology that keeps capitalism, as it is practiced in the film, alive. Parasite could also most obviously refer to the Kim family, leeching off of Mr. Park’s wealth. But that doesn’t seem quite right – the Kim’s are good at their jobs. They haven’t caused any harm to the Park’s, other than perhaps Da-song’s art lessons being semi-fraudulent (though Ki-jung at least gets him to behave). The Kim’s only caused harm to the Park family’s former driver and housekeeper, but that doesn’t seem a parasitical relationship, rather, a traitorous one. Parasite could refer to Geun-sae, and then Mr. Kim, living in the basement off another family’s food. That seems like a decent interpretation – they’re not doing any work for the Parks when they’re down there, and they’re eating some of their food (a lot of there/their/they’re in that sentence – very risky). But really, what’s a few pieces of fruit or whatever to the Parks? It’s nothing. So if that is the Parasite, it’s not really a danger to its host. The Parasite could also be the rich. It could be the Park family. They own huge homes that are pieces of art (and the housekeeper says they don’t even appreciate it) built by renowned architects while many of the essential workers of the city live in tiny half-basements; they have a dozen sprinklers watering their lawn; they demand the time and obedience of those of a lesser station; they feed their dogs Japanese crab meat while many others in the city struggle to afford decent food themselves. And what did they do to deserve so exponentially much more than those others? What will Da-hye and Da-song have done to deserve it? The Park’s live luxuriously and spaciously atop a hill overlooking the rest of Seoul, where the people essential to the creation of their wealth and the material goods they buy with it live below, many in near-squalor, in unstable conditions, the little they earn with their work subject to the whims of the forces around them. When the rainstorm comes, to the Parks, it clears the air – to the poor, it destroys their homes and all they had saved. The comfort of the rich comes upon the backs and toil of the essential millions beneath them. When Mr. Kim stabs Mr. Park, perhaps that was a moment of the host lashing out against its leech. “Parasite” could be a description of a system in which advantage is perpetually increased, more blood continually taken, until the host takes notice and claws at it; demands restructuring, revolution.

Conclusion Walking out of the theater, one of the people I watched the movie with commented, “It just kept getting worse and worse for them (the Kim family). It made me want to grab everyone and scream, ‘can we just stoppp?!’” I think that’s exactly right, exactly what the film should do. From the high point of the Kims’ position, sitting in the Park living room at the start of what should have been a weekend celebrating their new life, to the end, things just keep getting worse and worse. And it all makes sense: it all goes so terribly, logically wrong, and believably so. Of course the Kim family doesn’t get to keep having money; of course they fall even farther than they began; of course they are met with violence and death and despair; of course the family is ripped apart; of course Ki-woo doesn’t even take the right message from all of it, meaning the cycle will continue. When it’s laid out as clearly and poignantly as it is in Parasite, you do want to dive into the screen and make everyone stop hurting each other, killing each other, letting each other be hungry and homeless, lying and keeping secrets, recoiling at Mr. Kim’s smell, beg them to, beg them to just treat each other as goddamn human beings, is that so fucking much? You really want it all to just stop, and you see how inequality is a runaway train towards destruction, compared to when you’re in it it’s made to just seem like the status quo. The question is, can we make that impulse last? Can we keep that consciousness, that vision, that empathy? Can it survive the daily toil of our own lives, now that we’ve watched Ki-woo get shattered by the jagged rock? Can we avoid letting ourselves and our own perceptions be warped by class? Can our humanity survive when the jagged rocks are everywhere, all around us, being thrown at our heads by so many who benefit from what it represents? In the hours and days after watching Parasite, it seems clear what we must do. We must denounce greed, denounce the myth that, in a wealthy society, poverty is justified by worth; we must come to Mr. Kim’s realization that a person’s gagging in disgust of the poor is truly disgust of humanity, an impulse towards insulation from the lives of others. We must come together in empathy, and not lose sight of each other in dreams of individual elevation. In this sense, the film is art as wisdom – learn from the mistakes of the characters on screen so our own real-life crucible won’t have to be so soul-crushing. It took death and horror and misery for Mr. Kim to learn this lesson: what will it take for us?

#parasite #socialism #capitalism #sanders2020 #films

1 note · View note

kimmie113080 · 4 years

Text

Refusing to Yield Chapter 21

This is based on real life. Just the name has been changed to protect the person identity. There is mention of all types of abuse. If that is a trig, please don’t read. Reader get into a relationship with Kim Seokjin and Min Yoongi but all BTS is in this series.

Little w and Fred will you wait outside why we get Ann changed. Yes, Mike we can do that. Papa m can we leave my pants on or do they need to come off also. Ann, they need to come off to, but we have shorts for you to put on. I was done getting dressed Fred and little w came back in. They laid me back down with little w to be comfortable before I had to go to the stage. Half an hour later there was a knock on the door. I guess that is the sign you me to go to the stage for my surprise. Yes, Ann that is the sign. Okay let’s get this done and over with.

Fred puts me in the wheelchair and wheels me to the back of the stage. Jin started talking feels like déjà vu all over again. I remember when they did this on the first tour with them. Then Yoongi starts talking asking the to keep it quiet for about 10 minutes until they get done with what they have plan. Kookie comes back to wheel me to the stage. Some of you may remember from the last tour we brought out a special person to us Jin and Yoongi are taking turns talking to the army. Well we fall in love with her. Some of you know she became your groups permanent manager after the last tour because of some issues we had with your old manager. One thing before we bring her out here is do to so problems with Ann back, she is now in a wheelchair. Kookie can you please bring Ann out here.

Kookie do you know what they have plan. Yes, Ann but I can’t tell you because it will ruin the surprise. I am looking around to see if I can figure out what those two have plan, but there is nothing I can find. I start seeing all the security team coming towards the stage with a smile on their faces. If they are smiling that means, there is no problem but why are they all coming to stand in front of the stage. I am thinking maybe they are doing that since I am out on stage. I don’t see Fred, little w, Jason, Tim, Greg, Bryan, papa m and Tom. I here someone yelling she doesn’t belong with you two. Jin and Yoongi are standing on each side of me while the rest of the guys made a circle to include Jin and Yoongi in it. Jin give me your mic?

Ann what are you going to do. I want to say something so please give me your mic. Okay Ann here it is. I have no cue why Jin and Yoongi have brought me out here but to the person saying I do not belong with both Jin and Yoongi. I invite you to come up on stage with us all, so you can tell me to my face why I don’t belong with both Jin and Yoongi. I even give you Yoongi mic, so the rest of the army know why I don’t belong with Jin and Yoongi. Ann why are you inviting that person to come up on stage with all of us. I wanted the army to know I am someone who will listens to their concerns when it comes to any of you not just Jin and Yoongi. Ann it is a male making his way to the stage. Big R, Big J, Big K, Big B, Big S and Big A decide to join us on stage since it is a male coming to the stage.

Big R, talking in his hand to let Fred, little w, Jason, Tim, Greg, Bryan, papa m and Tom know that I made the request for a fan to come up on stage with us, but the fan is a male. He told them Big J, Big K, Big B, Big S, Big A and himself are now up on stage because on the unknow male who is coming to the stage. Fred decided that second he would join us also. While the rest are walking around to see if anyone else is starting to look nervous. Fred see who it is and has the security team on the floor stop him before he can get on the stage. Jin is the next to see him and he starts talking. Army the person made the comment that Ann doesn’t belong with Yoongi and I. Is the reason why we had to postpone the tour for 3 weeks. He and your old security team were promised something. If they helped someone who abused Ann in the past to get her away from all of us. When it didn’t work, he tried to force himself on Ann.

Now he decided to come to this concert start his crap. I hear fans start booing him for his action and saying to leave Ann alone. It started making me feel good that the army is going to stand up for me. Papa m decided to join us on the moment Jin is talking to the army. Fred make sure you find the rest of the old security team. Yes, Mike I will do that with little w and his team. Jason goes I have three guys acting nervous here. Jason, yes Fred them to the back of the stage. Tom goes I will bring my two also to the back of the stage. I got the last four with me little w is saying, and I am bringing them to the back of the stage now.

Jin and Yoongi go ahead with your surprise to Ann papa m said. Some of you may remember our last tour. We brought Ann out here to show her that our fan would support her just has much as you all support us. Well a couple weeks ago we all found out that Ann must have surgery on her lower back because of health problems. Also, we all found out this past Friday Ann’s surgery is going to be three weeks after we come back from tour. There are a couple of things we want to ask the army before we ask Ann. Army are all of you willing to support Ann not just has our groups manager but also Jin and mine significant other? I shaking not knowing what the army is going to say or what their surprise is? Big R is radio for Bryan to get on stage now Ann is shaking. Yoongi notices I am shaking hands his mic to Kookie.

Jin is still talking has Bryan comes out and knees next to Yoongi to find out what is a matter. Princess what is wrong? Yoongi I can’t handle surprise number one and number two I am nervous on how the army is going to react to your surprise. Will it be better if Jin did the rest of talking while I hold you in my arms and we will have Fred and little w waiting for you backstage. Yes, Yoongi that would be great. Jin turns around to make sure everything is okay. Jin continue talking because I am going to hold Ann until we finish her back is bothering her bad right now. Yoongi is going to hold our princess while I do the rest of the talking. We want to make it official with the army Yoongi and I are dating Ann. We support all three of you was being said around the arena and we all support Ann always was also being said.

Princess how does it make you feel that we just confess our love for you in front of our fans? I am very happy that the army is wiling to support us and support me with everything going on in my life. They did love myself with me being in Yoongi arms the only difference last time I stood between Jin and Yoongi. After the song was over Jin came over gave me a hug before Yoongi put me back in the chair and Bryan wheeled me off the stage. Fred and little w were waiting for me backstage like promise. They stayed outside the dressing room while papa m and Bryan got me redressed. Papa m yes honey I need to go to the bathroom. Okay honey Bryan go tell Fred to radio for two more security guards. Tell him it is for a bathroom run. I would have felt okay with just the four of us but with the old security showing up.

I want two more with us. Okay I will go asked Fred to get two more guards for the bathroom run. Thank you, Bryan papa m said. Papa m is there going to be an event where no one who has done something to me will so up? Ann honey I don’t know the answer to that question but just remember everyone will protect at all cost. Fred comes in with little w, Bryan, Big R and Tim for the bathroom run. Tim and Big R go in to check if anyone is in there before papa m and Bryan take me in. Bryan stay out of the stall while papa m is in the stall with me. I just get done using the bathroom papa m helps me back in the chair. I start screaming again Bryan pulls the door open and asked Ann burning pain again?

I just nod my head because this time I am crying. Fred get in here now Bryan is yelling. Fred, little w, Tim and Big R come running in when they heard Bryan yell for Fred. Bryan is talking now Fred I need you to slowly pick Ann up and carry her to the dressing room. Mike how much longer is the concert going to be? Bryan is asking. About 2 more hours why? If Ann treat doesn’t kick in for the nerve pain, I don’t want her being here that long in pain. I suggest if it doesn’t kick in within 30 minutes half stay. Mike since you are Ann’s dad, I want you to come with us.

Bryan how do you suggest we split the security team up. Fred I will let you decide who you want to go with us and who you want to stay here with the guys. Papa m yes, honey do I really have to go back to the hotel without the guys. Yes, honey I don’t want for the 30 minutes to see if your treat kicks in. Little w calls all security team to come to Jin and Yoongi dressing room. Will do Fred. All security team to Jin and Yoongi dressing room now. Once all security team is in the dressing Fred starts speaking. We need to split the security team in half. Fred is Ann’s nerve pain back again?

Yes, Jason it just happened in the bathroom. I would like to be one of the ones who goes back to the hotel and let Tom stay here this way one trooper is with both groups. Okay Jason you can come back with us because I like that suggested of a trooper with both groups. The security team going back to the hotel is Jason, little w, Big R, Big J, Tim, Big B, little k, Big S, little c and myself. Papa m and Bryan are going to the hotel also. Big K, little s, little b, little r, little j, Big A, Big C, little f, Greg and Tom are staying here. Tom you continue roam around the arena. Big K and little s you are backstage. Little b and little r you guys hang out in front of the stage. Little j and Big A you guy are at both dressing rooms.

Big C you’re at the spot in the hallway. Little f and Greg float around the inside the arena. Just has we are getting ready to leave the lights went out through the arena. Big K, little s and little b get to the stage. Get the guys back here now. Big K yes Ann use our system. Okay Ann will do. Ann what is our system? Little w will explain it Fred. Whenever we all had to leave Ann alone which we didn’t do often.

The first one back would knock and text at the same time to let her know it was one of us coming back. Then a text message would go out to the rest of us just come in Ann isn’t alone anymore. That is a great system to have. Ann the day little w and his team came you knew it was him because he knocked and your phone with text message went off at the same time. Yes, papa m and that is the only reason I answered the door. Tom call the police chief and let him know the lights went out at the arena and we are asking for help? I will call him now. Police chief Mark yes this is Tom with the BTS group. Yes, Tom what can I do for you. The power just went out at the arena and Mike is asking for help.

There has been no power outage reported. We are on our way. Fred, little w and Tim are you all around Ann. Yes, Tom then try to keep Ann calm. Mike the Philadelphia police department is on their way because there has been no power outages report. Ann honey it is okay. We are all here. We all are not here the guys are not here yet. Ann it is going to be okay. There’s a knock and text. Ann don’t say a word is whispered in my ear. The door is open.

I can hear Jin and Yoongi asking where is Ann at? She is here but let get a flashlight on them to make sure no one else followed you guys. Tom and Jason light please since you are closer to the door. Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, Kookie, Big K, little s and little b only. I hear Jason say. Let’s get the door closed now before anyone we don’t want in comes. Mike yes, Jin why did you pull all security back here before the power went out? Bryan is talking Ann had the burning pain again when she was done using the bathroom. I wanted to what 30 minutes to see if the pain went away but Mike decided it would be better to take Ann back to the hotel. We were splitting the security team down the middle.

Fred is talking I had just finished telling everyone who was staying where I wanted them when the power went out. Ann yes are you in the wheelchair or is Fred still holding you? Fred still has me in his arms. Fred yes, Yoongi I am going to lay down bring Ann to me, so you’re not holding her until we can get to the vehicles. Okay Yoongi sounds like a plan. Jason and Tom yes, Fred I want both of you in front by the door. Okay Fred we got that. Big K, little s, little b, little r, little j, Big A, Big C, little f and Greg yes Fred in a semi-circle behind Jason and Tom. Okay Fred we got it. Bryan and Mike yes Fred, I want you two to sit in front of the couch.

Okay Fred we got it. Jin yes Fred are you with Ann and Yoongi at the couch? You are right on that stay there. I will do that. Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin, Tae and Kookie yes Fred I want all of you behind the couch. Okay Fred we got it. Fred yes, Tim and little w do you want the rest of to do a semi-circle behind Big K and them. Yes, I do want you guys to do that. Fred yes Ann where are you going to be at? Ann like I normally am right in front of you.

Someone phone is ringing. Hello, this Tom who is this. Hi Chief Mark where is everyone at? We are all together. If you can have a couple of your officer in the back door and line that hallway. There is a hiding spot we found yesterday, and we all have been together since the lights went out. We don’t know if anyone is hiding there or not. I will only send in the ones I just with my life Tom and I will knock on the on of the dressing room doors. Since I don’t know which one your all in. Please tell Ann so if I knock on the door you guys are in that it is okay. I will do that Chief Mark and thank you again.

Ann yes Tom the chief Mark is coming in with the guys he trusts with his life. He is going to knock on one of the dressing room doors. If you hear a knock on this door, please don’t get scared and scream. I will open the door after I find out who it is okay Ann. Yes, Tom and I understand. Jason yes Tom I want you ready for anything. I got you Tom. Tom do you have yours on you? Yes, Jason okay because I have mine also. Ann yes Jason you trust Tom and I right.

Yes, I trust both of you. Why are you asking me that Jason? Ann, I know you’re afraid of guns and knives. Jason are you telling me both of you are carrying them? Yes, Ann I am telling you that. Why couldn’t you tell me that when the power was on, I said in a small voice. Shit please tell me that is not Ann sign of having a flash back. It is a sign Jason. Jason yes, it is papa m how bad is Ann afraid of guns and knives? Mike, Ann is deathly afraid of them. I can hear someone saying that.

Tom call the chief Mark back and let him know Ann might take a flash back. Chief Mark it is Tom again. Yes, Tom we are almost to the dressing rooms. Okay we might have a little problem in one of the dressing rooms. Tom what kind of problem Ann the manager plus Jin and Yoongi girlfriend takes flash backs. We just got a sign that she might have one. If any of you hear a female yelling that is her taking one plus, I just learned Ann is deathly afraid of guns. Okay Tom when we get you guys out. I will go in front of all of you and ask my guys outside to hide their guns. Tom and the other trooper carrying guns and what else?

We both have our knives on us also. She is deathly afraid of them too. I don’t know why Ann is afraid of them, but she is. Okay with it being dark in here she will not see them, but the parking area is a different story. Mark, I think I can hear you, so I am going to open the door. I am shining my light out the door can you see it. Yes, Tom I see it okay hanging up now. Ann chief Mark is here. Are you okay to be moved, so we can get back to the hotel? Steve please I will behave if you put both away. Dad please tell Steve doesn’t need to threaten me with them.

His friends can do what they want to tell him to get them away from me. I didn’t tell anyone Steve threaten me with your gun and knife. Ann Steve and Frank are not here. It is a bad memory please come back to us all Ann. Princess you are okay we have you no one is going to hurt you. Ann honey Frank and Steve can’t hurt you or threaten you with the gun and the knife. Sis I am right here no one is going to hurt or threaten you with weapons again. Did chief Mark get here yet? Ann he just got here but we need to wait a couple of minutes. Why do we need to wait? Princess you just had a flash back.

Please tell me all of you don’t know why I am deathly afraid of guns and knives? Princess we are not going to lair to you because you always ask for the truth. We all knew why you are afraid of guns and knives. Great is there going to be on time I don’t say anything during a flash back. Ann yes Bryan you are always going to say things in your flash back. I think I am good to move. Please get me back to the hotel. Okay everyone Ann told us to move, so let’s go. Mark lead the way. Fred let’s get Ann into your arms so you can carry her to the vehicles waiting for us.

I want everyone to wait at the door for a couple of minutes chief Mark is saying. Ann cover your ears please. I must go out say something to my men before you can come out okay. Chief Mark I just want to get back to the hotel. I will cover my eyes, so I don’t see anything. Are sure Ann? Yes, chief Mark it is okay because Fred who is carry me is a brother to me. Plus, I trust everyone around me to keep me safe. Okay Ann we will do it your way. Thank you, chief Mark.

Jin and Yoongi yes Ann can you get in the vehicle first, so Fred can put me in your laps? Yes, Ann can do that. Tim and little w can you help Fred out seen my eyes are going to be closed. We are got it Ann. Okay everyone let’s go. We are all in the vehicles with a police force escorting us back to the hotel. Once we get back to the hotel. I ask everyone in our group back to the suite I am staying in. Once we in the suite and I am changed. I address the issue with the flash back.

I guess you all heard why I am deathly afraid of guns and knives? Yes, princess we heard why you are deathly afraid of them. The only thing is I didn’t tell anyone that Steve threatened me with them, so I would let his friend do what they wanted with me. I only told Jason one day is school I dislike them. Jason you remember that day you were talking back getting a shot gun to going hunting. Ann yes Jason I went to your house the day threatened you with them. I wanted to step in and get you out, but I don’t know how without either of us getting hurt that day. I left quietly so no one knew what I saw. That night I told my parents I wanted to become a police officer. Why asked me why?

I told them what I saw at your house. They told me never to go over your house again but I should become a police officer so I could protect the one’s who couldn’t protect themselves. They asked me to protect you in school to make no one bothered you or forced themselves on you. That night my parents called everyone parents went to school with us. See if they all worked together to get you out but everywhere, they turned. They met with roadblocks no one wanted to help you at all. You should hate me Ann. Why should I hate you Jason because you got a beating because I told my parents what I saw? Jason everyone like you said who to school with us has told their parents what they saw. I received a beating every time one of you told your parents what happen to me.

That doesn’t mean I hate any of you. Would you like to know why I don’t hate any of you? Yes, Ann I would like to know why you don’t hate any of us Tim said. All of you told your parents the truth and they all tried to get me out of there. None of you did it for me to get hurt. You all did it so I would not get hurt anymore. Papa m yes Ann can we do camp in the suite for the rest of this tour? Ann that is a great idea. Since the old security team showed up at the arena and then the power went out. Papa m it is not just about the old security team or the power going out at the arena.

Princess are you able to explain or is it something you can explain yet? It is a little of both. Princess can try to explain what you can, and we will go from there. It is not like I don’t feel safe when only certain people around me, but it is a lot more then that. Tim walks over to me knees down in front of me. Ann is it because you consider everyone beside Jin and Yoongi your brothers. Something like that Tim. There is only 10 people in this room who have never experience first handed what I went through but they all still support me has if they have seen it. Then there is the 19 in this room who have seen what I went through firsthand but never turned their backs on me no matter what. I just feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Princess why do you feel the luckiest girl in the world? I have 29 guys love and care about in their every different way. Two of them noticed to the world they’re in love with me. One who didn’t know he was my dad when he started protecting like a dad should protect his child. Five who didn’t know me but wanted me to move in with them. Even through there was two other men in their apartment because I was in a homeless shelter. One who just met me and is willing to leave his home area for three months to go on tour with us, so I can feel safe. One who has medically training leaving his job in a hospital just to make my health problems are taken care of and being a RN for the company. Twelve who always looked out for me when we grow up and protected me chance, they get. Six of them took me in on a cold night after I had enough courage to leave an abuse home.

One who treats me has his sister because he understands what I went through. Since he lost his sister because of it. There still more I can not explain like why I feel safe around all of you or safe when it is just one of you. Since most of the abuse I suffered was at the hands of males. Little w comes to knees down in front of me right next to Tim. Ann yes little w I know why you trust all of us together or by yourselves. Why little w the same thing I told Fred the day Tim and his friend were brought in. You look for the good in everyone instead looking for the bad in people. I do not know if that is right or wrong little w. Jin and Yoongi do mind if I stay at the hotel for the next two concerts here in Philadelphia?

No, princess we don’t mind at all. We were going to suggested has well. Greg, I know papa m is probably going to want to stay here with me so he can help me in the bathroom. I would like you to act has the manager of the group when I am not at the concerts during this tour. Can you handle both acting manager and security together? Yes, Ann I can handle both at the same time. Okay because I am telling everyone this now. For the rest of the tour I am only going to the first concert in each city after that I will be staying at the hotel. Princess what is wrong? I feel like burden to everyone when I am at the concert tonight.

Ann honey yes papa m before your brain goes any darker let me say somethings. You are not a burden first off. Second you have unique styles when it comes to getting these guys to relax. I would not change my mind about having you be their manager at all. Even now knowing everything you went through and you are going through. I must admit this all the guys have become more alive in their performing since you have been around. Even before you be coming their manager. It is like the guys found their purpose to performing in front of the army. Papa m what are you talking about. Greg yes Mike did you bring some of old video before Ann came around and some after Ann came.

Yes, Mike I brought some of both do you want me to play it for everyone. Yes, I want Ann to see what I am talking about. Has I been watching some of the older video. I can see the guys just going through the movement like sticks in mud. Ann now I am going to put some video on since you came into all they live. Okay Greg lets see them. They look like they are enjoying life and enjoying performing for the army. Okay Greg I have seen enough. Would you guys please explain the difference I just saw. Princess yes Yoongi we all love performing.

The old videos are like we did not have a purpose anymore. The day you came over to the apartment. We all felt something click like you were the missing piece from all our lives. That night you left to go back to the shelter we all talked. Jin and I know that we wanted to date you. The rest of guys didn’t know what they wanted yet. They just knew you had to be in their lives as well. The second day you came over to hang out because of the shelter rules. We all tried to convince you to move in with us because we all wanted to take care of you. We kind of got our wish the night you went to the hospital for the first time after meeting us. Jin went to the hospital to be with you.

While the rest of us were back at the apartment. I started talking to all the guys. Telling them no matter what was wrong that you were going to move in with us. I hated that rule from the shelter during the day you had to leave. The two days I saw you come over from the shelter you looked worried to me. I don’t say anything because I did not want to push you into talking about anything. When Jin came back without you. We asked what happened and Jin explain what the doctor told him to us. That is when I told Jin to go to the shelter the next morning before you had to leave and bring you home so we could take care of you. Princess before your brain starts to go to the dark side.

Everything we know now does not change the fact we want to take care of you. Now knowing went you have been through. We just want to give you the world. Princess are you okay knowing we all want to take care of you? Somewhat Yoongi but I don’t understand somethings. Yoongi or Jin I think it is best to explain a little more to Ann. Little w is saying because I don’t think Ann understands what you are saying. Princess what Yoongi is trying to tell you is not just I or him want to love you. Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin, Tae and Kookie love you like we do. What are you trying to tell me?

Ann what Jin and Yoongi are trying to tell you is everyone in BTS loves and wants to do anything to make you happy Tim said. Jimin comes over to knee in front of me. Ann, we know it might be a lot for you to handle knowing what you went through. Namjoon, Hobi, Tae, Kookie and I are willing to take care of you differently then being in a relationship with you. Wait you all want to date me? Yoongi, I told you we should have to let Jimin explain to Ann. He was more direct with Ann then we were. Ann in the public eye you will be Jin and Yoongi girlfriend. When we are in private way from the public eye, we want to love you the way Jin and Yoongi does. Ann we would never push you to be uncomfortable.

Jimin, I know never of you would ever do that to me. It is a big shock that not just two of you are in love with me. It is the whole group that loves me. I never thought in a million of years that I would meet anyone let alone 7 guys who love just for who I am. Jimin is that why when Jin and Yoongi can not be around me. That’s why rest of you make up for their absent? Yes, Ann what is why Hobi went with you for your shots that day. Kookie went to land therapy with you. Tae and I went aqua therapy with you. That is why Namjoon gave the shelter our contact information if there was an emergency with you.

Plus, gave you the apartment address. He told me in the car on the way back to the apartment that we drop you off at the shelter. He felt connection to you as I do. Ann honey are you okay with this new information? Yes, I am okay with all of this. Because I think deep down, I knew all 7 of you wanted me. I was not going to saying because I did not want to jump conclusion and have all of you leave my life. Ann we would never leave your life unless you want us to. Namjoon can you get all my treat please. Ann what treat do you need?

I need all of it even the nerve pain when one too. I am starting to feel the burning in my thighs and again already. Ann before we give the treat to you. Why don’t we try a bath first specially because of the nerve pain treat so soon again? Okay we can try that. While I am in the bathtub. Why doesn’t everyone go get ready to have our camp in. Okay Ann we can do that. Jin and Yoongi helped me in the bathroom. Because I was used to them.

They knew I had scare. Jin asked if I would be okay having Namjoon come in to help me and he step out. He wanted to get ready for the camp in. I said that is okay because Yoongi was in here with me. Okay each day we will swap one of us out until you are comfortable with the rest in the bathroom to help you.

#bts #bts series #bts fanfic #bts army #kim seokjin #min yoongi #kim namjoon #j-hope #park jimin #kim taehyung #jungkook

3 notes · View notes