#it really feels like a slice of her 17 year old heart as she mentioned in an interview | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

There are dozens of funny blogs to kill time on Tumblr.

#it really feels like a slice of her 17 year old heart as she mentioned in an interview

drakenology · 3 years

Text

I Hate Everything About You - Dabi

warnings: ANGST, smut, daddy kink, mentions of rape,violence, AND swearing (cause im a potty mouth)

author’s note: this lil story is inspired by my favorite song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. im a lil emo bitch ok? I recommend listening to the song to get a better perspective of how the emotions of the lyrics and the story goes hand in hand. the chorus goes like “I hate everything about you. why do i love you?” and I immediately thought of something angsty and raw to write. hope yall enjoy! this one might be a little long.

summary: You and Dabi have worked together as villians for as long as you can remember but you two don’t get along at all. is this truly hatred or is this repressed feelings coming to surface?

You hated heroism. You viewed it as weak and meaningless. When both of your parents were murdered by an anonymous killer and no one came to their rescue when they could very well have been saved, something dark took over your spirit. You snapped. At the tender age of 17, your parents did not receive justice for the act of violence committed against them. The police told you there “wasn’t enough evidence” and that the killer had most likely killed himself.

There were simply too many holes in the case for it to be solved. Obviously this infuriated you. So much in fact that you planned to blow up the entire police precinct.

And you did.

Now being on the run at only 17 you fell into a life of crime, committing yourself to being a villain who killed police officers off duty earning yourself the villain name “Cop Killer” from the authorities. Not to mention your very dangerous quirk called “Leech”. You were able drain anyone you gazed at of their blood, the gaze having to be completely focused on the person’s eyes. Once concentrated enough it becomes hard for the person to look away from you. To trigger your quirk, you have to say the word “leech” in order to essentially stop the flow of someone’s blood to their heart; their blood being extracted from their veins to yours. The blood only made your quirk stronger as you can now manipulate it and use it in combat. You had enough control to where you could take a little or take it all. The stolen blood was also good for increasing your stamina and speed for a short period, manifesting a weapon with the blood you stole and of course leeching the person of their blood entirely, instantly killing them. The murders you committed granted you the number one spot of Japan’s wanted list. You were also the youngest assasin in Japan at the time so you had to move around a lot. You spent your teenage years living in abandoned buildings and sketchy motels; robbing, stealing and of course murdering for survival.

The day you met the League of Villains was your 23rd birthday. As a treat to yourself, you had cornered one of the dirtiest cops you had ever encountered. He was a known sex trafficker, a thief as well as a disgusting rapist. You had him right where you wanted him; wearing a disguise to hide your true visage in order to avoid being recognized. You had pretended to be a love interest to the cop, sitting in the seedy hotel room he rented to have a little “privacy” with you.

“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me. I wanna see that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock. Get on your knees for me.” The police man said, the sleazy bastard unbuckling his belt. You nod, secretly being disgusted by this man. But you had to keep your cool. You got down on your knees and took his hard cock into your hands and pumped, looking him directly in the eyes as you did so.

“Yeah, baby. You’re so hot.” He groaned, keeping his eyes locked on yours almost instinctively as sweat collected on his brow.

“Thanks.. but your time’s up, you sick fuck.” you say, standing up on your feet. You straddle him, watching the cop’s eyes become terrified as he finally realizes who you really are.

“Leech.” You say as you watched your quirk take effect. The reaction was instant as he starts to gasp and grab at his heart, clinging onto his last minutes of life as he died on the hotel bed. You moan as his blood is transferred into yours, creating a dagger out of his blood. You slice his neck, licking whatever was left off of his cold throat. You laugh, searching his dead body to take whatever he had on his person; money, personal possessions and his gun. Just as you’re about to get up and leave you get the feeling that you aren’t alone. You turn and see none other than the villain you had seen all over local news.

Shigaraki.

He chuckles dryly, admiring your work at killing the cop underneath you.

“Well done, little girl.” He said, peering over your shoulder to get a good look at the mess you made of him. You go to ask how the hell he got into the room until you hear the sound of police sirens blaring outside.

“We have the entire hotel surrounded. There are Heros on the way to assist us. Surrender now or face the consequences.” You hear the cops say on a megaphone.

“Shit.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your things; planning your escape in your head.

“Listen, I’ve admired your work since your attack on that police station, Cop Killer.” Shigaraki said. “We could use someone like you in the League of Villains. My friend Kurogiri here can get us both out of here in one piece. But only with your consent of course.”

You think for a moment. You’d rather make a smooth escape than risk being arrested. So you agree.

“We’ll explain everything once we get back to base.” Kurogiri says, morphing himself through the cracks of the door.

Kurogiri takes both you and Shigaraki and consumed you both into his portals, leading you to the secret hide-out of the League of Villains. You look around, your vision a little hazy from being in the dark portal. You see a few other people standing in the lobby. A guy with a weird mask on with two sides on it eagerly introduced himself as Twice. You see a cute girl that looked a little young to be in a place like this.

“Toga Himiko. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you’re way prettier in person. The police drawing of you is really unflattering.” She says, waving at you. You smile meekly as you turn away to see this guy standing at the corner of the bar. He had burn scars all over his face and neck, dark hair and the most mysterious eyes you’ve ever seen. You met his gaze when you noticed him staring at you, sizing you up. You found his stare threatening and kind of alluring. You almost couldn’t look away.

“Don’t stare at me for too long, Cop Killer. I know what those eyes can do.” He said sarcastically, not even caring to introduce himself. He felt familiar, like you’ve known him for a long time. You rolled your eyes and walked over to Shigaraki.

“Look, if you think just because you got me out of a tight spot that I’m just gonna beg to work for you, you’re wrong. I work alone.” You said, adjusting the top of your outfit.

“I know. But today that changes. You see, we’ve been watching you, Cop Kill-” He says, interrupted by your loud groan.

“My name is Y/N. Please just call me by my name. My mother didn’t name me Cop Killer.” You demand, folding your arms in protest.

“But that’s what you are, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed.” Shigaraki says, inching closer to you. “Look, the services of the League of Villains aren’t free. We helped you. Now you help us. You understand don’t you, Y/N?”

You sigh, wishing you had just leapt out of a nearby window back at the hotel instead of taking help from this creep.

“Fine.” You say, looking down at your shoes.

“Wonderful.” Shigaraki says, walking away from you. “Oh and one more thing. I hate back talkers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months pass and you’re well acquainted with all the villains of the organization. You were all usually partnered up for missions; you always alternating between Toga and Dabi, who had finally told you his “name”. You grew to be pestered by Dabi. You’d much rather be paired up with Toga than Dabi any day since you and Dabi just could not get along, you both arguing like an old married couple at every mission. You couldn’t stand him. His cockiness, his elitist attitude, his aloofness. He hated you because of your attitude, you thinking you knew better than everyone else. He thought you were a spoiled brat who hasn’t done anything remarkable to even earn a spot in the League. To you, he was everything you despised about some men.

One night you were all playing a friendly game of Blackjack; which seemed to be a ritual between the members. Shigaraki didn’t bother playing but Kurogiri always seemed to watch.

“Ugh.. Fold. What do I have to do to get a decent fucking hand, huh?” Twice said, his two voices seeming to contrast in differing personality. You laugh, slamming down a perfect hand worth 21.

“I stand, bitches.” You say, winning yet another round.

“I’m bored.” Dabi says, standing up and leaving the table.

“Oh don’t be like that, Dabi. Come back!” Toga says, throwing her cards down. She sighs and stands up from the table. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m goin to bed. Nighty night, Y/N. Twice.” Everyone went their separate ways. You walk into your room and change into something more comfortable and walk outside to get some air. To your dismay, Dabi was already standing outside in the same spot you liked to chill and think.

“Yo.” He says, referring to you. You roll your eyes and walk over to him.

“What?” You say, annoyed to the point where you just want to turn around and go back inside.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Cop Killer? Don’t like me?” He asks, inching closer to you to whisper in your ear. You stand still for a moment and lunge at him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall.

“Stop fucking testing me.” You say sternly, looking him deeply in the eyes with the intention to kill.

“Careful, little girl. You might just turn me on.” He says, grabbing your arm and pushing you back. You freeze, stunned at the sudden harsh movement from the tall man in front of you. ”You’re 5′4′’, sweetheart. If I wanted to, I could end you without even using my quirk. You ‘oughta be nicer to me.”

You get angrier by the second, yelling and screaming about how much you hate him all while trying to take jabs at him, throwing punches at his face. Dabi dodges every swing, smirking at your abilities. He was impressed, but he’d never tell you that.

“Huh. Keep it up and you might actually hit me.” He teased, swinging back at you, landing right on your jaw. You stumble and collect yourself, charging towards him once more. You were certain you’d hit him, the blood from someone you’ve killed earlier that day increasing your speed.

“Fuck you.” You hiss, taking another swing at him and connect, landing right on his cheek. He smirks, wiping blood from his mouth. You get cocky and go for another punch only for him to dodge you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it, pinning you against the brick wall in front of him with your back facing him.

“When?” He asked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You hated that he could so easily overpower you, making you despise him even more. He releases you from his grip and stands close to you; you feeling the warmth of his skin radiating from his body.

“Listen. You hate me and quite frankly I can’t stand you either. But you don’t see me attacking you. Try it again and I won’t be so nice next time, little girl.” Dabi said, grabbing your face to daringly look into your poisonous eyes to mock your quirk. You focus, ready to end this asshole. Suddenly his lips crash into yours. At first, you’re disgusted and fucking pissed. But then you feel yourself start involuntarily melting into his kiss. So you kiss him back with no shame, all bitter feelings leaving your mind as the kiss gets more intense. You feel his hands groping and caressing your body, his hands exploring to stop at your neck; wrapping it around. You gasp, feeling yourself get hot.

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. And then you spoke. And I couldn’t stand you. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to bend you over and punish you for your slick mouth. You need a good hard dicking to keep your mouth shut and I’m the one to give it to you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” He asked, starting to kiss your neck harshly. You moan, embarrassed at his words. He was right. You found him attractive as soon as you saw him but his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. But right here and now, you realize that you might have been hiding your true feelings behind a façade of hatred. You wanted him too and you couldn’t stand it.

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” He persists, biting into your neck. You mewl, shocked at how good he was making you feel. You almost couldn’t believe you were in this situation. It was confusing but formalities could come later. You wanted him now.

“Yes, Dabi. I wanted you to fuck me the first time I saw you.” You say quietly, feeling him reach under your shirt and bra to grab at your naked breast. You bit your lip, feeling slick pool between your legs as you fall victim to his touch.

“Get inside and go in my room. I expect you to have nothing on when I get there. Understood?” He demands, pinching your nipple lightly. You gasp, nodding at his request.

“Words. You’ve already made me angry with that stunt you pulled punching me in the face. I wouldn’t try me further.” He said, grabbing your hair and pulling it to expose more of your neck. You moan, unable to control yourself suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to turn you on. Fucking asshole.

“Y-Yes, daddy- I-I mean Dabi.” You flush. Damn. You couldn’t believe you let that slip. He laughs, kissing your lips once more as he lets you go.

“Daddy works just fine.” Dabi says smirking, watching you stumble towards the door to go back inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You knew you should just go into your own room but, God you wanted to see what he’d do to you for almost punching him. You wondered how rough he’d be, your panties soaking at the thought as you gulp and open his room door. You sat on his bed and took off your clothes, leaving your underwear on to tease him. Suddenly his door opens and it’s him. He looked you up and down, loving what he saw. But to his dismay you had on too many clothes still.

“I thought I told you to get naked, little girl.” Dabi said, pushing you onto his bed. He stood above you, running his fingers down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your panties. You shudder at his cold fingers.

“You never said naked.” You tease, looking back at him. He frowns, shaking his head.

“Man, you just love pushing my buttons don’t you? You’re gonna regret teasing me so much.” He says, pulling your panties down roughly, holding them up to his face. He smirked at the wet spot he saw on them, throwing them onto the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”

You hiss as he slid one measly finger inside you while rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb, the single finger not being enough to satisfy your craving for that certain pleasurable stretch. Somehow though, Dabi was making you feel good with that one finger. You roll your hips for more friction only to have Dabi hold you down with his other hand.

“Stop squirming so much. It makes you look desperate, doll.” He teased earning a whine from you. As if to be a little forgiving he adds another finger, watching your face twist up in pleasure. You were visually trying to hide your moans, Dabi not liking that at all.

“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t scream for me. Let everyone here know how good I make you feel.” He said, halting his movements. You nod, moaning loudly as he adds a third finger. Any shame or embarrassment is gone as he worked you up to your first orgasm. You grab at his sheets, trying to move for more friction only to once more be overpowered by Dabi.

“You don’t listen too well do you? I said stop squirming. You’ll have your fill but good girls wait to cum. Understand? I expect you to address me correctly this time.” He says, grabbing your face to make you look at him. Something about knowing you could kill him with your eyes turned him on, because he knew he could keep you from doing so. All he had to do was please you, knowing you won’t be able to focus on anything but screaming his name let alone his eyes.

“Y-Yes daddy.” You mewl, your eyes rolling back as he pulled out one of your breasts, sucking on your nipple harshly. The sound of your moans was music to Dabi’s ears, the only thing he ever wanted to hear come out of your mouth. He cooed praises into your ear, telling you hot sexy you are and how et your pussy is just for him. He crawls on top of you, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the sudden loss. He kissed you, ripping your bra off. He sat up and stared at the gorgeous naked woman underneath him.

“You’re so hot when you’re not talking shit.” He says, playing with your boobs. He was unsure of where to start. He wanted to please every inch of your lovely curves, his eyes drinking in your hips up to your beautiful breasts. He nearly drooled at the sight of them, your nipples seeming to perk up when he looked at them. You stare back at the man on top of you, his scars almost complimenting his skin as you watched him take off his shirt. You bit your lip as you feel a nice sized bulge grind up against your dripping core. You didn’t even notice that his pants were off, drooling at the sight of his body overpowering yours. He grinded up against you, leaning in close to your ear.

“Ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” He asked, nibbling on your ear lobe.

“Yes, god, yes!” You gasp, feeling him take off his boxers. He positioned his dick at your entrance, tapping it against you to tease you. You moan, going to grab his cock and shove it inside you but you think twice, already in trouble with him. Dabi smirks, excited to break you as he shoved himself inside you and started to rut his hips into you. You moan sinfully at the sudden stretch, loving how he filled you. You feel him speed up, not even fully adjusted to his length as you clawed at his back for dear life.

“You’re takin me so well, doll.” He said, grabbing your neck to lightly choke you. Your eyes roll back as you reveal a sinful ahegao face while he pounds you senseless. You’re moaning his name and telling him how good he feels inside you, cussing and screaming into the air as you feel yourself coming close to cumming.

“C-Can I-?” You ask, unable to finish your sentence as you feel yourself clenching around him. Dabi is relentlessly prodding at your g-spot, causing you to see stars as he notices he’s hitting that special spot. He smirks and angles himself so that he’s repeatedly hitting that spot, watching you cover your mouth as you scream. He snatched your hand away from your mouth and pinned it above your head.

“Tell me you’re sorry for punching me, kitten.” He demands, harshly pinching your nipples. You shake your head no to tease him. “No? Must need more convincing, huh brat?” He pulls out of you, you letting out a pathetic sob at the loss. He roughly flips you on your stomach and plants a hard smack on your ass. You yelp, your pussy aggravated as it throbs at the feeling of pleasure. He yanks you towards him and shoves himself back inside you, you laying flat on your stomach. You kick and scream under him, feeling him so deep it blinds you.

“Oh my god, daddy!” You whine, shoving your face into your pillow as he assaults your g-spot.

“Say it.” He demands, landing another hard smack on your ass this one sure to leave a mark.

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” You scream, desperate for release.

“Good girl.” He hisses. Dabi grabs your hair and lifts your head off the pillow wanting to hear the last moans you can give before you cum.

“Go ‘head and cum for me. You’ve earned it.” He says. And just like that you clench around him hard, your orgasm washing over your body as you cum all over his dick. He rides out your orgasm, only to continue pounding you earning a sharp yelp from you as you throw your head into the pillow again.

“You didn’t think it was over did you? That’s cute.” He said, taking you further. At this point you’re overstimulated, the pleasure almost painful as he worked you to another orgasm.

“God, I love you!” You scream to his delight as you cum quicker than your mind can keep up.

“I love you too. Even though you’re fucking annoying.” He hisses, unable to hold himself back anymore. He cums hot inside you, grunting as he slaps your ass one last time before pulling himself out. You moan softly, breathing heavily as he cleaned you up. He kissed up your body, you unable to move from being completely fucked out of your mind.

“When you socked me, I knew you were a keeper.” He laughed.

“Shut up.” You say, smiling into your pillow.

“HEY, YOU TWO DONE IN THERE? YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN UP THE ENITRE CITY WITH ALL THAT RACKET!” Twice shouted through the walls, turning your face red with shame.

“SHUT UP AND MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” Dabi yelled back, rubbing soft circles on your ass to soothe his harsh marks on both cheeks.

bitch i.. i’m sick.

#bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha dabi #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha shouta aizawa #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha oc

451 notes · View notes

thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

Text

Regeneration Potion (Plat!C!Tommyinnit x Witch!F!Reader)

TW: Mentions of Dream's actions during Tommy's exile INCLUDING his un alive moment. YES I KNOW TUBBO CAN HAVE MORE THAN ONE FRIEND. SHUSH. PLOT.

Reader wears a dress most of the time. Also Tommy is around 17 (I forgot his canon age sorry)

I might make this a series!

☆Tommy P.O.V☆

His hotel was taken over.. His house was practically empty.. He was stared at everywhere he went.. His best friend replaced him instantly without much of a second thought.. His brother was dead, his other brother probably wanted to spill his guts for switching sides... He had... Nothing...

He had died for God's sake! Sure, he didn't expect people to immediately bawl their eyes out at the news, but he didn't expect to be brushed off so damn quick! He didn't expect the person he betrayed his brother for to replace him so quickly! He didn't... he... Was... Tubbo really his friend? He exiled him without checking up on him... He... He moved on so.. quick..

Standing over the giant crater once known as L'manberg, now covered with a thick sheet of glass... He wrapped his arms around himself and gave a sigh. In the distance, he could see Ranboo and Tubbo running around, most likely gathering materials for Sam Nook...

Gritting his teeth tightly, he felt a familiar burning behind his eyes before he stood up from a pile of dirt he claimed as a temporary chair. It took all of his power not to scream in emotional agony as he stormed away from the sight of his old best friend with someone else who he claimed as his new bestfriend.

Don't turn back...

With a few iron ingots and a low durability netherite sword to his name, Tommy walked as quickly as he could away from the memories. The sacrifices. The pain. The lonely feeling...

He had easily walked for a few hours, trying his hardest to find an area completely secluded from everything and everyone.

If they moved on once... They can move on twice..

He wanted to hold on.. He wanted to keep every little memory and object that he found comforting... But now... Everything he looked at caused a sharp pain to jolt through his heart...

He glanced up at the biome around him, only to frown slightly. It was a Dark Forest... But there was many problems..

He knew there were some large mushrooms, but he had never seen massive flowers bigger than a mansion! Everything... Felt weird... Somethings were incredibly varied in sizes! He spun around in awe as he stared at the different sized flowers and mushrooms scattered around him. Then... fear struck into his heart again...

Wilbur... He told him a story about a forest far to the north of L'manberg... Trees bigger than the eye could see, mushrooms taller than a house or smaller than a fingernail, flowers being anywhere from a millimeter tall to miles high into the air, all because of the land was protected by a Witch.

In the story, Wilbur said that only the lost and lonely would find that forest out of desperation to find salvation...

The Forest of the Forgotten...

His lips parted in surprise and he spun around to exit the land, in fear of upsetting the witch... Only to find a silhouette standing against the light a few inches away from him.

A not so manly scream tore from his throat and he hurriedly threw himself backwards, raising his arms above his head as he landed on the ground, "I'm sorry, Dream! I promise not to wander off again! Please don't take my stuff! Please I don't have anything left! Please...! Please!" He begged, tears spilling from his eyes as he scrambled backwards until he hit a tree. Tommy didn't even hear the foot steps wandering closer until a purple light rose into view.

He took a few gasps for air as he slowly lowered his hands. 'Dream's in prison. He's not here. He's not gonna hurt you again..' He carefully rose his gaze, only to see...

A young woman... She looked... Around his age!

She was kneeling on the ground a few feet away from him, just... Watching him. A black pointy hat was balanced on her (h/l) (h/c) hair that was nicely framing her (s/t) face. Her eyes were analyzing his every movement as they surged with purple flames... But they weren't threatening or violent... They were curious but calm..

He stared at her for a solid few seconds before realizing that the soft purple glow was coming from a ball of coloured fire in her hand. Mesmerized by the energy, Tommy hardly noticed when a dull pink glow appeared in his vision, only when the woman made effort to talk, did he notice.

"I... Don't know who Dream is.. But, I'm not here to take your stuff. That's a promise." She smiled softly, and moved her hand that held the pink glow closer to him. It... Was a Regeneration Potion. "Here, you look a little... Uhm... How do I say this nicely... Torn up...?"

Tommy couldn't hold back a frown as he rubbed his eyes free of tears. He forgot that his injuries from Dream hadn't healed yet... And probably wouldn't be healed for a long time. "Thanks... I guess.." He grumbled in an attempt to save whatever dignity he had left.

While he was considered naive, he wasn't stupid. He knew not to trust strangers immediately, so he uncorked the bottle and smelt it as he analyzed the colour to make sure it was really regeneration potion. At first, he wasn't going to drink it, but he quickly remembered that it wasn't like he had anything to lose, so he took a small sip.

It was dangerously sweet, much sweeter than Phil or Techno's potions, but it definitely wasn't awful and it for certain wasn't poison. He rolled his shoulders as he continued to sip at the potion while she stood up.

Dusting her black robe and dark (f/c) dress of any dirt, despite them being already dirty and a bit tattered, the (h/c) woman stood up and continued to clean the dirt off. "It will be getting dark soon... I'm not much of a fighter, so I will not be able to fend for the both of us if need be. Do you have a shelter nearby or would you like to seek refuge with me for the night?"

Did this crazy woman not know the meaning of stranger danger?

☆Your P.O.V☆

No matter how much you threw yourself into your studies, the looming loneliness never seemed to leave you..

Keeping to your daily routine, you begrudgingly lifted yourself out of bed and sat down at your vanity, glaring at your reflection that bared knotted hair and sleepy (e/c) eyes. Your non dominant hand stretched out towards your closet and watched as your irises lit up a bright surging purple, activating your magic. Your dominant hand began to run a brush through your hair while your other hand controlled the magic that was currently being used to sort through the row of clothes in your closet. Once you found an outfit that you deemed adequate, you made a quick gesture with your hand that caused the clothing to float onto your bed.

It didn't take very long to get ready, I mean, come on, you were in a large forest miles away from the closest village! It's not like you were going to be seeing anyone for a few more centuries.

Your house was cozy and rather small, but it housed you and your black cat Salem comfortably. It was nice and quiet where you lived.. Albeit dark and lonely..

The trees often covered the sun and prevented you from knowing what time it was, but you had stopped caring about the date long ago. It never mattered to you anyway.

"Yeah, yeah. Quit meowing. You act like you haven't eaten in a year." You rolled your eyes at the dramatic feline as you prepared your own breakfast first. Salem kept meowing loudly, standing beside her food bowl and swatting it every so often until you used your magic to toss a fish to her. "You done with your whining now? Big baby."

You rolled your eyes as you sat down with your bowl and quickly ate the fruits you had sliced up. Downside to living here, you primarily survived off of fruits and berries because animals rarely wandered into the forest, and if they did, well you kept them for their resources like milk or eggs or wool.

With a small sigh, you got up and washed your bowl, via magic so you didn't have to feel the burning sensation of the water on your skin, as you contemplated what you were going to do today.

Eventually you decided on going to walk through the forest to find more animals or scavenge for more fruits. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you double checked that it was stocked up with healing and regeneration potions just in case, only to throw your shoes on. Waving good bye to your lazy annoying cat, that you still love regardless, you shut the door and walked down the path.

The silence was normal... But god it was deafening when something stepped on a branch or when one of your chickens decided to give a particularly loud squawk, but it did indeed heighten your senses.

Giving a sigh, you rose your hand and a purple pulse flew from your hand then trailed down your body and travelled through the forest. Your magic didn't detect anything out of the ordinary except for once thing near the entrance.

"Ah.. God.. Please don't be a zombie.. I'm not a fighter.." You whispered under your breath before setting off towards the untouched and overgrown entrance of the forest.

Arriving to the main path, you looked over a little bit to see a tall blond male spinning around in absolute awe of the forest.

He then took a sharp breath and spun around, almost immediately coming face to face with you. The loudest scream you had ever heard left the boy and he quickly stumbled backwards until he fell to the ground and hit a tree, "I'm sorry, Dream! I promise not to wander off again! Please don't take my stuff! Please I don't have anything left! Please...! Please!" He practically cried apologies while he curled into a wall.

'What kind of reaction was that?!' You thought curiously as you kneeled down a few feet in front of him. Assuming that the dark had freaked him out, you summoned a ball of fire and held it out, using the time to study the strange boy. His dirty shirt was ripped and torn in several places, his skin was decorated with mud, soot, cuts, bruises and scars and his cheeks were damp with tears. His breath was turning into gasps as his thin frame shook violently.

"Hey... Are you okay?"

He didn't seem to hear as he began murmuring quietly to himself, rocking back and forth a small bit to calm himself down. After a few moments, he lowered his arms and stared blankly at the magic in your palm.

Seeing the injuries on his pale skin, you dug into your bag and pulled out a glowing pink potion before holding it out to him. He didn't seem to notice it until you cleared your throat. "I... Don't know who Dream is.. But, I'm not here to take your stuff. That's a promise." You smiled as politely as possible, and moved your hand that held the potion closer to him. "Here, you look a little... Uhm... How do I say this nicely... Torn up...?"

The male grumbled a bit under his breath but looked genuinely thankful as he took a small sip of the potion. After deeming it wasn't poisoned, he began to take larger drinks of it.

"It will be getting dark soon... I'm not much of a fighter, so I will not be able to fend for the both of us if need be. Do you have a shelter nearby or would you like to seek refuge with me for the night?"

Honestly... The face he made amused you quite a bit...

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommy mcyt #tommyinnit mcyt #dreamsmp #tommy dreamsmp #dreamsmp x reader #dsmp x reader #reader insert #x reader

175 notes · View notes

ohpretty-baby · 4 years

Text

my babysitter’s a quarterback • jjk

⇥ pairing: qb!jungkook x cheerleader!reader

⇥ side pairing: namseok

⇥ synopsis: after getting cheated on by the star of the hockey team, park jimin, your life (as expected) goes downhill. what you don’t expect is your parents being skeptical of whether or not you’re a good older sibling for your sister. you also don’t expect them to call jeon jungkook—the person you hate most—to babysit the two of you.

or, alternatively: jungkook babysits you even though the two of you are the same age.

⇥ genre: fluff, crackfic, angst, e2l, jungkook is stupid, jimin’s an asshole, hoseok’s a sweetie, namjoon is also a sweetie, reader is Stressed, pining, mutual pining

⇥ warnings: cursing, crude humor, mentions of cheating, divorce

⇥ word count: 30.0k

based off a request for @fan-ati--c (i hope you like it dear!)

a/n: hi everyone!!! this is my first ever lengthy fic, so pls have mercy on me. i had a lotta fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy!!!! much much much much MUCH love <333 (feel free to give feedback and your opinions!)

“Y/N, what has gotten into you?” Your mom gently places the tip of her fork on her plate, folding her hands together. Her words are stern, but she doesn’t raise her voice in order to save face. The air at the dinner table is dense and heavy on you, and the fact that your father and your little sister, Clementine, seem to have their eyes glued on you doesn’t help either. Clementine sniffles and the sound makes your blood boil.

You sigh, looking up from your phone to shoot a glare to your mother. You also send a glance of distaste towards your sister, which allows you to get a quick sight of her puffy eyes and runny nose. The prongs of your fork are poking your lips while you lazily chew the spaghetti stuffed in your mouth. Shrugging, you place your phone and the fork down, folding your hands in order to mirror your mom seated in front of you.

You stay silent, lips pressed tightly into a thin line, because you know she has more to say.

“Darling, you’re being extremely immature,” Your mom always had to give it to you straight, “You know that Clementine didn’t mean to upset you.”

As always, your mother is articulate and sharp when she speaks. Not once does she stutter, and after being her daughter for 17 years, you’re not entirely sure if she’s ever stumbled on her words before in her entire life. It’s indicative of her personality: intelligent, quick-witted, skilled, yet unbelievably blunt. From the way her patients praise her for constantly being compassionate and kind, you often wonder if your mom really is a psychiatrist or if she’s hired a clone to work in her stead.

It’s not that you hated your mom. You loved her dearly, as you did with the rest of your family. The reason why you seemed to always butt heads with her, though, is simply because you have a little too much in common with her (personality-wise). Your dad’s always said that you were a carbon copy of your mother, after all.

“All I’m asking is that Clem asks me if she can use my makeup,” You cough, a few bits of the noodles going down the wrong pipe, “You, of all people, mom, know how expensive lipstick can be. I need that for football games.”

It’s not a clear statistic, but it is a pretty solid fact. You always use facts in order to back up your arguments, just so that your parents can’t say anything in response. Sometimes it works. You’re still waiting for the day when you have something impactful to use.

“Well, you know that when she sees you getting all pretty,” She taps her fingers on the wooden table, “She wants to do the same, and as the-“

“As the older sister, I have to share,” You roll your eyes, and you shift your focus on Clementine, “Sorry, ok? I won’t get so mad next time.”

“Clementine, what do you say?”

“It’s ok,” She sniffles, wiping her eyes.

“No, dear. What do you say?”

“I forgive you, Y/N.”

You bite back the sarcastic comments you’re dying to say, opting to stuff your mouth with spaghetti instead. The rest of your family starts eating as well, and you keep your head low to avoid making eye contact with your sister. You love her with almost every bone in your body, but right now, you can’t tell if you want to throw your food at her or slap her with your ceramic plate.

Today, she took it upon herself to go through your makeup bag and steal one of your (again, highly expensive) lipsticks so she could slice it with a butterknife purely out of boredom. This all happened while you were taking a bath, and when you got into your room, you saw her sitting at your desk, lipstick chunks spread all over one of your old math notebooks. So of course, you yelled at her.

Then she cried. Then your mom made you apologize because you were upset that she wrongfully went through your stuff without permission. But that’s really how things have always been, ever since you were 5 years old and Clementine was just born. You’ve grown up constantly taking the blame for Clementine’s wrongdoings. It’s just how things work in your household, because your parents genuinely believe that she could do no wrong.

Apparently, being 12 gave you lots of perks.

“Y/N?” Your mother’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, “Y/N, listen to me when I speak to you.”

“Sorry, what’d you say?” You don’t care about matching your mom’s formality anymore, your cheek puffed up with more food.

“I was asking you how your day was.”

“Oh, just wonderful. Fantastic. Dandy,” You snap back, not really aware of what you’re saying as your words fly out of your mouth.

“What’s with your attitude, young lady?” She scoffs, then pauses a bit before speaking again, “Listen, I know that it’s tough, having to see Jimin-“

You slam your hands on the table, standing up. Your chair screeches awkwardly against the wood flooring of the dining room. Swallowing down the rest of your food, you try to soothe the hard lump forming in your throat.

“Do not try to analyze me. I’m not one of your patients. There’s nothing you need to fix about me, got it?” You raise your voice, staring her dead in the eye, “I just had a shit week and I very much do not need you to try and pinpoint whatever’s going on in my head.”

Your mother gasps, and only now does your dad decide to speak.

“Young lady, go to your room right now,” His words fall flat, and you scoff at him.

Your parents were complete opposites. If your mother was over analytical, your father could never read the room. Not because he was dumb, per say, but because he was always in his own little world. He always responded a little too late, felt things a second after they should be felt. That’s just how your dad thinks. He doesn’t mean to be mentally absent when all of you were at home, but he’s always been preoccupied with his work. That’s a big thing you’ve admired about your dad, how easily he can focus on one thing and ignore the rest. It’s one of the main reasons why he was so successful as an architect. Growing up, you would stay up past your bedtime just so you could be with him in his office. You’d watch how he could just sit down and create a multitude of building designs without getting distracted.

By the way he looks at you with a flash of guilt in his eyes, you can tell that he’s the only one that gets your reasoning. You can also tell that he knows how wrong it is for your mom to bring up your ex-boyfriend during dinner.

But because he wants to uphold his “authoritative” figure, he needs to “put his foot down”.

“I was planning on it anyway, thanks,” You grumble, storming off.

Once you reach your room, you slam the door—purely for dramatic effect. You throw yourself on the bed, getting out your phone and doing the first thing that pops into your head. You call Hoseok and he answers right away. A smile flashes on your face as you feel some relief from your anger.

“Hello?”

Jung Hoseok has been your best friend ever since you first stepped into your hellhole of a high school building. He was your saving grace. The only thing that kept you sane.

When you joined the Monarchs, the cheerleading squad of your school, Hoseok was the only person who talked to you during practice, even if he was a year older than you. An infamous characteristic of his is his big smile. His lips always resembled a widened heart, and he showed off his pearly whites wherever he went, exuding happiness that was extremely contagious. And if his smile was big, his heart was even bigger.

You know this because Hoseok immediately asks you “Is everything okay?” when he hears your shaky breath over the line.

You explain to him what had happened seconds prior to this phone call. Then your conversation spirals into you ranting about how your parents have been telling you that you’ve been a terrible sibling. It’s something insulting to hear, knowing that they’ve always made you take the blame for everything your sister does. It hurts even more that they can’t acknowledge the fact that getting through a breakup is hard for a 17 year old girl. They couldn’t even cut you some slack.

A pang of guilt hits you when you relay everything you’ve said to your sister over to Hoseok. Maybe you were somewhat in the wrong here. But could you blame yourself? You were going through a hard time, and it’s not unusual for someone who’s stressed to act out. Not to mention when the stressor is heartbreak.

During the beginning of September, you found Park Jimin, your past boyfriend of one year, and some other Sophomore on the cheer team making out in his car afterschool. It was now the end of October, but the memory haunts you in your every waking moment. The image of another girl pressed up on him, her skirt hiked up high enough so that you could see her spandex, flashes in your mind. In your head, you see Jimin running her hands all over the girl’s skin, purple splotches blooming on her neck and on his.

You shut your eyes, rubbing them violently as you try to ignore the painful truth: If you hadn’t decided to surprise him with some brownies you made for him that day, they would’ve done a lot more than just making out.

The notion makes tears prick your eyes, the familiar sting returning. You had been crying almost every night. Everytime you close your eyes, the same image of him and that girl appears and you can’t get rid of it at all.

You’re about to break down again, and Hoseok talks you through it. He allows you to vent, to let everything out, and he promises that the two of you will hang out after tomorrow’s practice. It gives you relief, something to look forward to at the end of the next school day. Tomorrow was Friday after all, and like you said before to your mom, your week was shit.

There had to be at least one good thing you could have this week.

That statement is short lived, however, because instead of sitting with Hoseok at your favorite diner with a strawberry milkshake in front of you, you’re sitting at your dinner table yet again, poking at pizza with a plastic fork. You stare at the grease stains on your paper plate in disgust, as the dining room is so silent you can practically hear the small ticks of the red second hand of the clock on the wall.

What a great way to start the weekend. Friendless, boyfriend-less, and miserable. You look up from the greasy mess before you to shoot a glare to the person in front of you.

“Why the hell are you here?” are your first words to the boy.

“Your parents called me?” He responds, mimicking your questioning tone. You scoff at him.

Jeon Jungkook. The cocky, annoying as fuck quarterback on the football team who coincidentally sits behind you in Pre-Calc everyday is now sitting across from you at your dinner table. The boy who breaks off pieces of eraser chunks and throws them at your head just to annoy you while the teacher is giving a lesson. The kid who kicks your chair at least five times every single day just because he has fun getting a rise out of you.

You don’t know how exactly your hatred for him began, but it definitely started when you first became a cheerleader.

Popularity was never something that came easily to you. Many people don’t remember, but in Freshman year, the only time your class knew of you was when your name was called for attendance. You didn’t play any sports, nor did you participate in theatre or had any musical talents whatsoever. You were simply just, there.

This all changed when your mom suggested cheerleading. You did have a few years of solid gymnastic experience and you really had nothing better to do, so you decided to take the opportunity to sign up for tryouts.

It was hard, and you slipped up a lot of times, but the coaches saw potential in you. They told you that you’ve really got drive, and they praised you for continuing to get up and perfectly following directions when they asked you to execute an especially hard move. Eventually, you were accepted and once you had more time to practice, you had gotten the hang of cheerleading quite quickly. You ended up falling in love with the sport, working hard both on and off the field. You always got constant praise for your willingness to learn new things.

And with your new success on the team, you gained a reputation for yourself.

When, exactly, did Jungkook join the picture?

You’re not sure. He kind of forced himself in.

One day, you weren’t at your usual best. The sun was beating down on you harshly, which didn’t make things any better. The football team had been practicing with you guys, and it was obvious that many of the boys were ogling at the cheerleaders. They would nudge each, looking suggestively at the girls while whispering crude comments about them.

Jungkook, being the youngest and most energetic one on the team, had other ideas in mind. You see, he lived quite loudly and he was… Eccentric, to say the least.

His eyes were focused on the cheerleaders, pinpointing at anything that would be of use to him. He peered around intently, looking for any mess ups or mistakes that they had made. He would have made fun of anyone, really. Jungkook didn’t know much about the girls on the squad, so he really had no problem using their flaws to his benefits. He wanted to make his own team laugh, and that in itself was justification enough for Jungkook.

It was just unfortunate that you were his target.

Once he saw you topple over on the ground, he was ready.

“Hey, thunder thighs! Be careful out there!”

After that, you heard nothing but boisterous laughter from the football players. It was an immature insult, one ridiculous enough to enrage you. You wished you could’ve ran over to the other side of the field and just punched him the gut, right then and there. But his own coach and grabbed him by the ear, dragging him towards you so he could apologize.

It was a lame apology, and you could tell that he was trying everything in his absolute power to bite back the laugh he was holding in. You would've said something about it, but since Jungkook was more built than you and there were authorities present, you reluctantly accepted the apology, choosing to go on with your practice instead of letting it get to you.

And after that day, Jungkook has made it his goal to torment you whenever he sees you. Since he sits behind you in Pre-Calc now, that’s become his job every day.

Jungkook was taller than Jimin. He was a pretty attractive football player, too. You would give him at least that. But he was meaner than Jimin. A bigger asshole than Jimin. More annoying than Jimin could ever be.

Literally any good quality that you thought you could find in a guy, Jeon Jungkook did not possess it. Any kindness, sympathy, or even general decency in his heart was nowhere to be found.

He had messy brown hair, a smug grin on his face that you’d love to punch, and a lean body that you wish had gone cripple. Confidence wasn’t something that he had a lack of. In fact, Jungkook’s cup overfloweth with so much confidence to the point where describing him as merely confident would be a misdeed.

Narcissistic was the word. He was extremely narcissistic and obsessed with himself, which was indicative of the daily gym snaps he’d post on his Snapchat story. He was everything that disgusted you about guys combined and turned human.

Jungkook’s very presence could set you off, and you know that he lives off of that.

This is no different from your Friday night, as he’s gnawing on pizza right in your own damn house. He’s scrolling through his phone and you’re staring at him in disgust, while Clementine has already eaten and is now sitting on the couch, curled up with some sci-fi book she got from the store last week. Taking in his appearance, you inwardly cringe when you notice him lick the oil that has found itself on his fingers.

“There’s a napkin right next to you.”

“That would be a waste of paper,” Jungkook responds, licking away the last remnant of oil and marinara sauce on his thumb, “Gotta be eco-friendly, y’know?”

He wiggles his fingers at you, his infamous shit-eating grin appearing yet again. You hate the way his mouth tugs up to the right a little bit, how his eyes gleam mischievously since he’s so full of himself. If Clementine wasn’t in the house right now, you’re certain that Jungkook would’ve been on the floor, knocked out. You would’ve hit him with a frying pan, like in that one Disney movie Clementine loved so much. Or you would’ve hit him with your Pre-Calc textbook. That shit was heavy. You could knock him out cold with that. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

You roll your eyes at him, saying nothing and eating the rest of your pizza. You make a mental note to ask your parents why the fuck they thought it was a good idea to call over Jungkook on a Friday night.

But you know the answer to that already. They seem to believe that you haven’t been “responsible” enough for Clementine, which is weird, knowing that you’ve practically raised her all her life. Your parents have always been too busy to spend enough quality time with her, save for when they defend her at dinnertime.

So instead of having a civil conversation with you—or even asking if you were doing alright—they decided (without your permission) that a babysitter would be the best option for your little sister. And you still had to stay at home tonight because your mom asked you to “see if the babysitter is okay for Clementine”.

You’re not sure where the logic was in your parents’ thought process, but you did feel bad about your sister. She had warmed up to you a little bit after yesterday, but you know that she’ll stay closed off for a while. Not only to you, but to everyone else. You wish that your parents had known that. If they did, they’d be able to get that you’re probably the best babysitter for her. But no, they had to invite Jungkook over, someone who’s boisterous and annoying, and they probably expect Clementine to get along with him just fine. (And also, what had even compelled him to start a career in babysitting?)

So you decide to stay, just so she won’t be scared of being in her own house. You have been hard on her for a little bit after all, getting irrational and moody whenever she talks to you. It’s the least you could do for her. Despite everything, you still did really love her.

She was your sister, for goodness sake!

“Hey, just a reminder,” Jungkook’s at your trash can, throwing away his plate, “Your bedtime’s at 10 tonight.”

It’s a stupid statement, and both of you are aware that the rules are for your sister. You can’t help but feel yourself heat up, though, when he sends a wink your way.

“That’s for my sister, you dumb fu-“

Your obvious response and insult combo is interrupted when you find Clementine standing in the doorway.

“Y/N?” Her voice is timid, shy, and her head hangs low when she speaks. She doesn’t like how there’s some random stranger in the kitchen.

“Yes?”

“Can we play Telestrations?” She keeps her eyes on you, and you feel yourself soften. It’s been a little bit since the two of you played anything together.

“Mind if I join in?” Jungkook says before you can actually respond to her. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, and Clementine blinks at him, stunned. All she does is nod, too afraid to verbally respond to your classmate.

You’re also stunned by his sudden change in demeanor. His cocky aura is replaced with a soft tone, smiling brightly at Clementine instead of smirking at you. He walks over to her, asking her where the board game is. She mumbles something quietly, something only Jungkook can hear, and he responds with an even more enthusiastic grin. He turns to you before they make their way back to the living room.

“You coming, or…?”

So that’s how you find yourself at your coffee table with your little sister and the most annoying person you’ve met in your entire life, getting ready to play a round of Telestrations.

All you can say is that your night definitely isn’t going the way you planned at all.

He’s sitting criss cross applesauce on the carpet, extremely relaxed as you pass out the cards, the drawing pads, and the dry erase markers. You try to hide the scowl you oh so desperately want to show, but if Clementine sees you upset with him, she’ll definitely feel less safe with him.

You don’t know why you’re defending him, but here you are, attempting to be civil with him just to make sure your sister doesn’t feel as threatened as you do. You try your best not to start any fights with him, either. You’ve heard enough about people calling you a bitch at school. Ever since you broke up with Jimin, you’ve somehow been deemed the psychotic ex by all of your peers, because how could Jimin possibly do anything wrong?

You can’t tell what’s worse: the fact that everyone says you’re a bitch, or the fact that girls come up to you now, asking you for advice on your ex-boyfriend.

Sighing, you watch as Clementine rolls a four and chooses “This Side” of the cards. You internally groan when you look at the yellow side of the card. The glossy square seems to laugh at you, presenting what your subject would be.

How the hell were you supposed to draw “tunnel vision”?

Writing your name and the word on the first page, you mentally prepare for the challenge heading your way.

“Y/N,” Clementine calls for you, “Mine isn’t working…”

Jungkook hands his marker to her before you can, and he’s testing all the other markers in the box to see if they’ll work for him. You look at him accusingly, eyes asking him: “What the hell are you trying to gain?” He shrugs at you, a simple action that tells you:

“Sorry, I’m just a great babysitter.”

He quickly goes back to his own card, copying down the words with his new marker. You return your attention to your pad, figuring out how you were going to draw your word.

“Are you gonna set the timer, Clementine?” Jungkook asks, and she shakes her head.

“We don’t use it,” She responds in a mere whisper, and Jungkook can’t hear her.

“Huh?”

“We don’t use the timer,” You answer for her, “It’s more fun that way. You can take your time.”

He nods, and the three of you flip to the first page so you can start.

You draw—well, attempt to draw—a pair of glasses facing two strange rods. You squint at the doodle, examining it as if you had to guess what the answer was. The only possible answers you’ve come up with are that A.) You’re terrible at drawing, B.) Art is definitely not your future career, and C.) No one is going to be able to figure out your drawing, not even yourself.

“So, Clementine,” Jungkook starts, catching both you and your sister’s attention, “That’s a pretty cool name.”

“Thank you,” She doesn’t look up from her pad, too focused on her drawing.

“Do people call you anything else?” He prompts, going to work on his own pad as well.

“What do you mean?” “Like, nicknames.”

“Oh. My friends call me Tina,” She says, “Y/N calls me Clem, though.”

“That’s dope,” He pops the “p”, and the way his mouth moves is enough to annoy you.

“Yeah,” Is all your sister says, and it’s obvious that both of them are determined in making their drawings look good. You, on the other hand, are already done with your sad chicken scratch of a drawing, and you take the time to watch Clementine as she leans close to her pad, right hand clutching the marker tightly.

Like your dad, Clementine was able to immerse herself in a single task, but unlike him, she was incredibly skilled in multitasking. Sometimes, she’d read a book while having a full conversation with you, and she’d still remember the content of the chapter she was reading. It was a skill that you both envied and admired about her, how she could easily redirect her attention to one task while also still performing the second task flawlessly.

“You done already, Y/N?” Jungkook quirks a brow while he looks up from his drawing. You sneak a glance at your sister, who’s immersed in her drawing, before responding.

“Don’t push it,” You mouth out, folding your hands together on your lap while you wait for the other two to finish. Jungkook flashes an obnoxious smirk your way, and it takes everything in you to not kick him in the balls right now.

“I’m done,” Clementine announces, passing her pad to you. You pass yours to Jungkook, praying that he doesn’t say anything too terrible to you. He then passes his to Clementine, completing the circle.

“W-What?” Jungkook mumbles to himself, biting back a laugh while he examines your drawing. You internally groan. There was no use in hoping that he’d have mercy on you.

In an attempt to block out his bothersome snickering, you try to guess what Clementine’s word was. You feel part of yourself die inside, as you can already tell what she’s drawn. You write the word “deer” on the third page, after looking at the drawing one more time. In the short amount of time Clementine had given herself, her depiction of a deer was scarily accurate.

“Are you guys done?”

She has her pad lying on the coffee table while she drums her fingers on the surface. You nod, while Jungkook has his hand covering his mouth. He shakes his head, still trying to decipher your sad, sad drawing. Instead of making fun of you, he’s actually making an effort to figure out what your word was, eyebrows deeply furrowed while his eyes run across your pad multiple times.

You’d feel bad because you truly don’t have an artistic bone in your body, but seeing him frustrated by your doing slightly amuses you.

Jungkook takes a few seconds before taking a deep sigh and quickly scrawling something on your pad. You can’t tell if you’re excited or dreading what he put down for your word, but that doesn’t matter because now you have to draw Clementine’s guess of what Jungkook’s word is.

A frog?

How come everyone else’s words were so easy? And how are you supposed to remember what a frog looks like?

Biting your lip, you hesitantly put the dry erase marker on the pad. You stop when it makes the initial hit, a small dot appearing on the laminated surface. This is because Jungkook’s leaning over to watch you draw, his hair mere centimeters away from tickling your skin. When you freeze, Jungkook finally moves away, turning to face you.

“You need something?” You ask in an accusatory tone. He shrugs.

“I dunno. You look constipated, so I was curious,” He says, working on a new drawing. It’s another dumb yet excruciatingly annoying jab at you, and you’re baffled at how anyone could think that that was something of use to say.

Clementine giggles, and both you and Jungkook gawk at her in surprise. You feel a sense of betrayal, seeing as your own sister finds someone like Jeon Jungkook humorous. But she’s having fun, so maybe your dignity would have to be something to sacrifice tonight.

And your parents wonder whether or not you’re a good older sister for Clementine, as if you weren’t literally tolerating the person you hate most right now just for her. You steady yourself, being proud of your kindness to him so far. The fact that you’ve actually restrained yourself from knocking Jungkook out in itself is a surprise. You’ll be sure to reward yourself with something later.

You go back to your drawing, working on the small bumps for the eye sockets and the wide almond shape of the frog’s mouth. The frog looks incredibly awkward, its eyes a little too close for your liking. Did frogs have nostrils? Obviously, right? You draw two thin slits on top of its long line of a mouth, hoping that that’s what a frog’s nose looks like. It resembles a frog, and honestly you’re willing to take whatever you can get, so you close the pad, waiting for the other two to finish.

When everyone is done and all of the pads have returned to their respective owners, you get ready to present the devolution of your prompts. Clementine’s eager to go first, which puts a soft smile on your face.

She shows off her deer, and then your correct guess, and then Jungkook’s drawing. Quite frankly, you��re quite amazed at Jungkook’s depiction of the prompt.

There’s a cute deer standing on some grass with a few random flowers around it. Like Clementine’s, it’s quite realistic, keeping in mind of the limited time and resources you’ve all had. Jungkook’s chest swells in pride when the two of you stare at his drawing for a few more seconds, secretly admiring his handiwork.

“I didn’t know you could draw!” Clementine’s indirect praises increase his ego but you stay quiet, not willing to say anything too positive around him.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Jungkook responds, pointing out how good her deer is.

Jungkook takes his turn to present, and even his frog is amazing. Then, he flips to your drawing, a failed imitation of a frog compared to Jungkook’s accurate one a few seconds ago.

“Tina,” The sudden use of the nickname confuses you. Since when did he think he could be this informal?

“Yeah?”

“Your sister’s not really the creative one in the family,” The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, “Don’t you think?”

Clementine thinks about what to say while Jungkook watches the steam coming out of your ears in pure delight. No matter how good of an artist Jungkook is, or how good of a babysitter he could be, nothing would ever make you want to be acquaintances with him, let alone being just civil with him. What makes matters worse is that Jungkook can easily get away with making infuriating jabs at you since your sister is here with you.

You also try not to think about how Jungkook is getting paid for tormenting you outside of school, because if you dwell on it for far too long, you don’t know what you’d do.

“Y/N doesn’t have to be good at that kinda stuff,” Clementine turns to you happily, “She’s already cool.”

You sheepishly smile back at her, and then she asks you to show your drawing pad now.

“Okay, so,” You clear your throat, “Uh, my word was tunnel vision.”

“...That actually makes sense now,” Jungkook nods, stroking his chin dramatically. He squints at the drawing as if he was in an art gallery.

“This is my drawing,” You flip the page, revealing your chicken scratch from before. Clementine bursts out laughing, and you can’t help but become a little annoyed at her reaction.

“How did you not get that?” She asks Jungkook, and you feel the anger bubble away and instead become replaced with smugness. Your sister still had your back after all.

“Hey!” He points at your drawing, baffled at your sister, “Look at that and tell me that you’d guess it correctly!”

“Um, yeah,” Clementine snickers.

“How?”

“It’s glasses. Vision,” You chime in, “Then those are tunnels. Tunnel vision, right, Clem?”

“Yeah!”

“What?!” Jungkook gawks while you give your sister a triumphant high five.

“What could you have possibly guessed?” You chuckle, turning the page out of curiosity.

Before you can see the word, however, Jungkook forcibly snatches the pad out of your hands. He’s no match to your quick reflexes, though, because you’re pouncing onto him, pinning him to the carpet so you can retrieve your stolen drawing pad.

You’re about to grab it, but then he grins at you, making you stop in your tracks.

Your eyes widen, realizing how you’re in an extremely close vicinity to him, his face inches away from yours. The two of you make unnerving, silent eye contact, each of you staring at each other’s face from time to time. It’s during this that you notice how big his eyes are, resembling Clementine’s drawing of the deer from before. You also notice the mole under his bottom lip and how his lips are naturally tinted a pleasant pink. Jungkook chuckles tauntingly at you and you come back to your senses. You’ve been staring at his lips far longer than you’d like to admit.

“Can’t get your hands off me, huh?” He whispers, winking at you. The pizza you had eaten 20 minutes ago crawls up your throat right away, and you immediately peel yourself off of him. Jungkook still has the pad in his hands, signalling a victory for him.

You cough awkwardly, returning to your seat and wiping away imaginary dust on your lap. You claw at some loose fabric of your sweatpants, balling up the material in your hands. Jungkook sits up as well, nonchalantly fixing his now messy hair. He remains unphased, even though you were literally on top of him a few seconds ago.

“He put Harry Potter and taquitos,” Clementine says, breaking the silence. Jungkook’s eyes shoot up to send her a glare with feigned annoyance, while you end up laughing a bit louder than you’d like to. Then again, anything to relieve the uncomfortable tension would work.

Jungkook’s cheeks are tinted a shy, light pink, while embarrassment is painted all over his face. It’s a lame situation to laugh at, one that you probably would never admit to anyone that you find it humorous, but seeing Jungkook flustered makes you the happiest girl in the world.

The night continues with Clementine bringing out all of the board games your parents bought you over the years. It’s fun yet unbelievably painful, having to cooperate with Jungkook just for the sake of Clementine. When you played Monopoly with them, you were always reluctant to give Jungkook money, even if it was fake. You were also reluctant to receive money from him, even if the action was beneficial for you and not the other way around.

He spends the night still making stupid jabs at you, some of them earning laughs from your sister. You suck it up and deal with it, because this is the happiest you’ve seen Clementine in a long time, so you just strain a smile and move on.

When it’s about 9:45 PM, the three of you stop playing board games since Clementine has to get ready for bed. You come up to her room so that you can say goodnight and tuck her in.

“Today was fun, Y/N,” She giggles while you pull the covers over to her.

“That’s good to hear, Clemmie,” You respond, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Before you shut off her light, Clementine grabs the bottom hem of your shirt.

“Y/N?”

“What’s up?” The scared look in her eyes tells you that you’re gonna have to stay for a little longer, so you sit down on the bed.

“Are mom and dad gonna be okay?”

At first, you’re shocked that Clementine had even noticed, but then again, she’s always been this observant. And she was 12 already. She wasn’t dumb. It was also obvious that the reason why your parents randomly decided to go to dinner tonight was because they were trying to iron out some issues that they’ve been having.

All you do is nod and ruffle her hair playfully. Another smile appears on her face when you kiss her cheek.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” You say, although you’re not so sure yourself.

Recently, you’ve been having trouble sleeping as well. This was because your parents always start fighting whenever they see that Clementine is asleep. You don’t know what exactly they’re arguing about every night, but you’ve assumed that it must be money issues or something along the lines of that. Real adult stuff that they want to keep you two out of, but it’s so hard to ignore when they’re yelling at each other so loudly.

Clementine’s room is closer to the stairs. Of course it’s not a surprise that she’d notice there was something wrong with your parents.

“Do you think I…?” She mumbles out the question, but you don’t need her to finish the rest of it because you’re wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close to you.

“Don’t ever think that,” You say, sighing, “You didn’t do anything, ok? Mom n’ Dad are just fixing things between themselves.”

She nods, hugging you back.

“You should go to sleep,” You pull yourself off of her, placing yet another kiss on her head before tucking her in under the covers, “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Promise?” She sticks out her pinky finger and you chuckle, sticking out yours and looping it around hers.

“I promise.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You say goodnight to her, turning off her lamp and shutting the door. Now that she was attended to, you had to start cleaning up. You walk downstairs to see Jungkook sprawled out over your couch, lazily scrolling through his phone. You wish that the saying “Make yourself at home” never existed, since your parents have an affinity for using it, which in turn forces you to deal with Jungkook laying on your couch like a complete slob.

The first job you assign yourself is to tidy up the living room, and you stack up all of the board games together so you can put it in the random storage closet your house has. Jungkook, of course, doesn’t bat an eye at the fact that you’re cleaning up the house all by yourself.

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. You walk over to the kitchen to have another slice of pizza while Jungkook acts like you don’t exist in your own house. Your stomach grumbles obscenely, even though you had a slice a few hours earlier.

It must be the stress. You do tend to be hungrier when you’re under a lot of stress, and today threw many annoyances your way.

You check your phone and you realize that Hoseok texted you an hour ago.

[October 9, 7:30 PM] Hobi: Y/N i honestly think i’m gonna lose my mind?????????? Y/N? Y/N where tf are u i’m going insane holy shit text me when u get this PLEASE

Right away, your fingers move at the speed of light

[October 9, 10:30 PM] Y/N: omfg hobs you have no idea the shit i just went thru think i got three years taken off of my life anyways sry for the late reply what happened?

The iconic three dots and text bubble show up. You stifle a laugh. Hoseok must’ve been waiting by his phone for your text.

Hobi: i think i may have gotten myself into a date???

Y/N: a WHAT with WHO Hobi: yknow like mymanwhosnotreallymanbutheis yeah him Y/N: ur joking SPILL

You eagerly chew on the cold, stale pizza in your other hand as you wait for Hoseok to tell his whole story. Whether he’d be sending a voice memo or he’d just spam you with a multitude of texts, you never really knew. That’s just how Hoseok was.

But that didn’t really matter, because Hoseok had a date. With the kid he’s liked since the beginning of last year. Kim Namjoon.

Kim Namjoon, coincidentally in Hoseok’s photography class this semester, was easily the smartest person in the whole school. The teachers were more than heartbroken knowing that he’d be graduating this year. The students, more specifically the girls, were also saddened, because Namjoon was also quite attractive. He was tall, kind, and extremely smart, and because of this, he had earned the title as “The Package” by Hoseok. He was everything everyone ever wanted in one person. Accurately put, Kim Namjoon was a full package.

Hobi: ok well like we have a project in photography class where we have to take pics of nature and i wanted to do the flowers bc yknow, easy A and since u couldn’t hang out today >:( Y/N: hey, not my fault my parents think that i’m a terrible sister

Hobi: yeah u have to tell me how that went but anyways i went out to take pics after practice and guess who i saw? namjoon

Y/N: aaaaAAAAAHHHH

Hobi: YEAH and then we were talking and stuff and it turns out that he’s doing flowers too and then he gave me HIS NUMBER Y/N: omfg,,,

Hobi: i k n o w so like i think two hrs ago he texted me and we started talking and stuff and then he was like “yknow there are prettier flowers in the botanical garden downtown” and then he asked if i wanted to hang out next week so i said yeah Y/N: holy shit hobs

Hobi: yeah so it’s not really an official date but i’m counting it as one in my book

You hold back a squeal, though you want to scream at the top of your lungs so badly. You opt to just smiling from ear to ear at your screen as you continue to freak out over text.

Hobi: the only problem is that i have to pretend that i like nature :( but not only that…. like i have to know stuff

Now Hoseok’s begging you for advice on nature, and you mention that you also aren’t the biggest nature lover either. Hoseok tells you he’ll have to do some research on flowers and you think that he’s the funniest person you’ve ever met.

Your brief moment of happiness is rudely interrupted, however, when you suddenly see Jungkook before you, standing across from you at the kitchen island.

“You’re still hungry?” He says, opening the box and grabbing the last slice.

“You’re one to talk,” You scowl, watching him take a bite from his pizza.

Jungkook leans on the island, which in turn causes him to be closer to you, since you’re also leaning on the same surface.

“You don’t really smile a lot, baby,” He teases, wiping off sauce from the corner of his mouth.

So there he was. The Jeon Jungkook you’ve known and hated so dearly. He’s always called you random pet names, simply because he knows how much you despise him. It takes everything in you to hold back the urge to cuss him out. The walls are thin and your sister might wake up.

“Don’t call me that, first off,” You spit, “Second off, why do you care so much?”

“Jus’ makin’ conversation,” His cheeks puff up as he continues to stuff his mouth with food.

“Like I give a shit,” You grumble, looking away from the chewed up food that you can see in his mouth. It’s so unfortunate that Jungkook thinks it’s a good idea to talk while eating.

“Wow, you’re so mean to me,” He takes a large swallow of his food and then pouts, “You’re killin’ me here, babe.”

Despite his seemingly sad words, Jungkook’s giving you a big, toothy grin. He winks at you for the umpteenth time tonight, and you try to think of all the ways to kill someone in silence. Right now, you wish that Clementine was awake, because it’s only around her that he seems to be somewhat decent towards you.

“You have a nice house and nice parents,” He says, more to himself rather than you as his eyes scan the tidy kitchen, “And your sister’s so nice. Why aren’t you?”

“Why are you such an asshole?”

“Why are you such a bitch?”

Some would say that 10 PM is too late to have a nonsensical argument with some douchebag quarterback from your grade, but here you are having a ridiculously heated dispute with Jungkook at 10 PM. Again, all of this is happening in your own house.

You roll your eyes at him, and you wonder how you haven’t hurt yourself by the amount of times you’ve done that today.

The two of you eat pizza in angered silence, an uncomfortable situation you never thought you’d ever have in your entire life. Well, you’re a lot angrier than Jungkook, who’s got a smug, satisfied look on his face because he just thinks it’s so much fun to annoy the hell out of you. That makes you even more upset, which causes you to get angry with yourself because you know you shouldn’t let someone get to you like this. It’s a never ending cycle of negativity whenever you’re around him, really.

Soon enough, the faint, muffled sound of the garage opening is heard through the door, and you breathe a sigh of relief. That’s Jungkook’s signal to leave.

Before he leaves, though, he turns to you yet again.

“Thanks for the money,” He winks, “And the free pizza.”

The weekend goes by pretty slowly, but eventually, you end up in the classroom again.

Your school day is pretty much uneventful until you get to 5th hour Pre-Calc.

The busy click, click, click of mechanical pencils and the sound of scribbles from students’ writing are all you can hear after lunch. You follow their leads, hastily scrawling down your own notes on the lines of your notebook on your desk. Once you finally get into the zone of your note taking, you feel Jungkook lean in behind you. He’s so close that you can smell the cologne he uses, and the familiar odor sets off your flight or fight system.

Now that your parents have officially “hired” Jungkook as Clementine’s full-time babysitter, you realize that you’ll be forced to see him more often and have that strong, pungent cologne constantly wafting into your nostrils. You’re certain that you’d lose your sense of smell eventually.

If only Clementine hadn’t continued praising him after he left last Friday. Maybe then your house would actually be a safe haven for you. But no, now Jungkook is allowed to come and go into your house whenever your parents need him. (Again, as if they didn’t have a whole other daughter who was willing to take care of Clementine.)

But that’s another issue to worry about later, because Jungkook’s obnoxiously chomping down on his gum right in your ear. He’s so close that you can practically smell the watermelon flavor from his mouth, and you want to barf.

All you can think is: A.) Who in their right minds would ever actively choose watermelon gum over mint, and B.) Who would think it’s a good idea to chew on their gum so damn loud in the middle of class?

To both of those questions, the answer is Jungkook, plain and clear.

“Do you mind?” You hiss at him as you try to copy what the teacher has written on the chalkboard, “This isn’t a fucking ASMR channel.”

“Slow your roll there, baby,” His words come out in a teasing lilt, the pet name causing you to tighten your grip on your pencil, “First off, mind your business. Second off, I’d be an amazing ASMR youtuber, thank you very much.”

He’s imitating the way you talk to him, which makes your blood boil yet again.

“Well, you’re not giving me any chills.”

“I could if I wanted to.”

His statement causes you to freeze in your seat, mind racing as you try to think of a good comeback. Nothing appears, and you’re sure that if you were in the right headspace, you would’ve already had something good to say.

But you’re still going through heartbreak and the stress of dealing with your parents, so all you can muster to say is:

“You’re disgusting.”

Your words remind you of Friday night, which then makes you want the Earth to cave in under you and swallow you whole. You’re still dumbfounded at how Jungkook was able to come into your house without setting off all of the security systems your parents have installed there.

“Aw, baby girl,” The use of that pet name makes the digested lunch from 20 minutes ago crawl up your throat rapidly, “You really got me there! I’m so hurt, you know that? You’re so mean to me.”

You can’t see him, but you just know that he’s clutching his heart dramatically. Your whole body burns up in flames as you imagine the annoying smile on his face, the way it tugs to the right side a little more because he’s so proud of himself. He can see the steam pouring out of your ears, and all that does is egg him on.

Now he’s poking your back lazily with the end of his pencil, propping his head up on his elbow as he tries his hardest not to laugh.

It takes approximately ten seconds until you snap.

Once the pencil hits your back for the umpteenth time, you reach behind you quickly, snatching it and tugging it forcefully out of his hands. Without thinking, you hold the ends of the pencil between your fists and when your fists shoot up away from each other, the pencil breaks in half cleanly. You’re satisfied with the splintering ends of Jungkook’s pencil while he’s gawking at you, wondering how the hell you could have broken a pencil without any struggle. The smug smile is now on your face, but it quickly fades away when Ms. Lee turns to you and places her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. You make eye contact with her and you immediately straighten up your seat, your breath hitching as you attempt to remain calm under her threatening presence.

You weren’t scared of many things, but Ms. Lee definitely made your skin crawl.

“Miss Y/N?” Her voice booms all the way to your seat in the back of the class, “Would like to share with the class as to why exactly you’re breaking a pencil in the middle of my lesson?”

“No, ma’am,” You quickly respond, your words coming out in a pathetic squeak.

You can feel the mischievous gaze Jungkook has on you, but you pay no attention to it. The teacher grunts, turning her back to the class and resuming her ever so important task of writing important formulas on the chalkboard.

You let out a soft groan and you noticeably slump in your seat, making Jungkookk chuckle.

“Nice save there, Y/N.”

“Fuck off, will you?” You toss the pencil halves back onto his desk, not wanting to have anything to do with any of Jungkook’s property. You made a mental note to wash your hands once class ended so you could rid yourself of whatever pathogens lurked on Jungkook’s pencil.

“Do you always have such a way with words?”

If you were in a private space with Jungkook, where his hands are tied and he couldn’t do anything to hurt you, you’re sure that he would’ve been beaten to a bloody pulp by now. You desperately yearn to have just one day where you can beat his ass.

But you frown, knowing that that day would never come.

“Do you always act like a pretentious dick?”

“Baby girl,” The name returns and you have never wanted to kill someone as much as you’d like to Jeon Jungkook right here, right now, in 5th Hour Pre-Calc with Ms. Lee, “If there’s anything to describe this dick, it’s certainly not pretentious, I’ll have you know that.”

“Wow,” You scoff, “Do you always have such a way with words?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact-“

“Miss Y/N and Mr. Jungkook!” Ms. Lee bellows, “I am teaching a lesson! Would you like to share-“

“No, ma’am!”

You keep your head low, continuing to copy down the notes on the board. Jungkook kicks the back of your seat multiple times throughout class, and the only thing you can think is:

How is this guy allowed to be around little kids?

Usually, when you see someone regularly in your life, your bond with them grows stronger. But with Jeon Jungkook, you’ve learned with each passing day that your hate for him becomes stronger and stronger. And it’s been exactly five weeks. You’ve kept track.

Because now that he’s your sister’s babysitter, he’s become a lot more involved in your life. At least, he’s become involved in Clementine’s life (which ultimately means yours as well).

And as a result, your parents have started going out almost every single night, save for when there’s a football game or when Jungkook is too busy with homework. This meant that he was at your house at least 3 times a week, sometimes even more, because he just loved being with your family and your family just had to feel the same way. Sometimes your parents would even ask him to drive Clementine home from school.

(An issue that would easily be solved if they let you learn how to drive. But apparently that was absolutely preposterous.)

One thing you’ve learned about Jungkook is that he’s scarily good at acting. He’s amazing at being sweet to Clementine, offering to drive her home after school whenever he can and creating inside jokes with her all the time as if he wasn’t planning on ruining your life this whole time. Since he’s such a “good babysitter”, your parents have started having him come over for dinner, and almost every night you had to restrain yourself from starting a food fight with him. He was always polite to your parents, though, making easy conversation with them at the table but never even daring to say a single word to you.

If someone was on the outside looking in, they’d think that Jungkook was a good person. Like a superhero, however, when he was around you, he would take off his disguise and reveal what he really is: a conceited jock who only thought with his dick.

The only possible benefit of him taking care of Clementine is that you have a lot more freedom now. That freedom has turned into occasional hangouts with Hoseok on the weekend. You’d usually use any chance you could get of hanging out with your best friend, but you also didn’t trust the dangerous human being who was constantly in your house, watching her. As a result, you’ve chosen to stay at home with Clementine, babysitting her babysitter. You label it as being a protective older sister.

But as Jungkook annoyingly puts it, with his notorious, cocky grin:

“You really like my company, don’t you, babe?”

He couldn’t be further from the truth.

This is different from tonight, though, because you’re relishing in the overly sweet, artificial taste of the strawberry shake right in front of you. It tastes like relief, like some much needed freedom from your overbearing parents on a Thursday evening.

Today, they took it upon themselves to lecture you about your sleeping schedule, telling you it’s irresponsible to stay up so late. What they don’t get is that you’ve been working on an important paper for your AP Lang class while also helping one of your classmates with their own paper. It strikes you that they don’t realize how much schoolwork your teachers pile on you. And it infuriates you even more that they always jump to the conclusion that you’re a bad kid, even though you’ve constantly had good grades while balancing schoolwork with cheer. That notion’s always gone unnoticed.

Of course, this wasn’t a pretty sight to be seen, your parents arguing with you right before their dinner date, and coincidentally, right as Jungkook stepped into the house. You don’t know what his reaction was, but you presume that he was most likely stunned. The only time you’re ever truly enraged, bluntly saying whatever harsh comments come to your mind, is when your mom starts to belittle you. This was the first time Jungkook’s ever seen you this upset. Or articulate.

It was safe to say that things didn’t end well, you storming up into your room and slamming the door.

And, as expected, you chose to have a much needed diner date with Hoseok tonight. Clementine even encouraged you to go, saying that she’d be fine with Jungkook, but you couldn’t help but still be concerned for her safety.

“Y/N, stop checking your phone,” Hoseok whines, snatching it from you, “What’s got your panties in such a knot?”

You grumble in protest when Hoseok scrolls through your conversation with your little sister over text message.

The music from the old, torn down jukebox fills the diner, and you’re surprised that it still even works. That jukebox has been there ever since your parents were kids. Nonetheless, you enjoy the nice, cheery melodies playing from it. You kick at some random bits of fries on the floor, your beaten red converse still visible under the dark shadows of the table. The diner smells of fried food, a scent that you’ll happily breathe in everyday. There’s an elderly couple sitting at the other end of the diner, waiting for their waitress to bring them their food. The old lady waves to you, and you wave back, flashing a small smile her way.

“Y/N, Tina’s gonna be perfectly fine,” He says, creating a shooing motion with his hand, “It’s not like he’s going to kill her.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He literally loves her,” Hoseok takes a bite of his burger, some of the juice from the patty seeping out, “Yesterday he asked me to ask you what type of music Tina liked, Remember? Granted, he was too scared to talk to you. but-”

“Don’t,” You groan, stealing a fry as compensation, “Don’t remind me.”

“Hey, I don’t like him either,” He says, “But I’m just sayin’ that you don’t gotta worry so much. Your sister’s 12 already. She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And technically, there would be no clear motive for him to do anything wrong because he’s getting paid,” Hoseok takes a fry for himself, “Why would he feel a need to get rid of his only source of income? That’d be ridiculous.”

You sigh, resting your head on the table in defeat. He was right. Even if Jungkook was a douchebag towards you, he wasn’t insane.

“Don’t do that!” Hoseok scolds, flicking your forehead, “Your menu was just on that table!”

“So?” You rub your forehead in a failed attempt to the pain Hoseok has just inflicted onto you.

“You know menus can have 185,000 germs per square centimeter?” He exasperatedly explains, pulling out some hand sanitizer from his backpack, “Or was it only 85,000…? No, I remember it being-“

“Wonder where you got that information,” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows while you cleanse yourself with Hoseok’s hand sanitizer. The tips of Hoseok’s ears turn red in seconds, and you laugh at his misfortune.

“You’re so lucky I love you,” He grumbles, hiding his face in his hands. You giggle, eating so many of Hoseok fries that he decides to order some more for you. That’s how your diner “dates” usually went, you only ordering a shake but then stealing all of Hoseok’s food.

“How’s that going, by the way?”

“He’s adorable, as always, but he’s really… How do I say this?” He pretends to search for the right words before deadpanning, “An absolute fucking idiot.”

“What?” The statement catches you off guard, and you almost choke on your shake.

“He’s so dumb, Y/N,” Hoseok hits his forehead with his palm, “So we’ve been hanging out a lot, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me why he can’t get the clue that I want him to actually ask me out?!” He groans, “Like, I’ve been trying to bring up prom, but he doesn’t get from the multiple times that I’ve said that I don’t have a date that I want him to ask me…”

Hoseok angrily chomps down on the last bit of his burger, while you’re still roaring in hysterics about how he finds Namjoon frustratingly adorable.

“I don’t get boys,” He pouts, “I really don’t. And I am one!”

“You can say that again,” You chuckle, sipping the rest of the shake in your glass.

The two of you catch up on everything you haven’t been able to share from weeks before, since school can provide only so much time for talking. When spending time with Hoseok, you realize how often you let the little things get to you. You tend to sweat the small stuff so much that you don’t realize all the good things happening to you. It was a nice albeit short break from reality, sitting with Hoseok in your favorite diner with your favorite strawberry shake and some greasy, delicious fries.

Eventually, you end up back at home at 10:30 PM. You come a little bit later than your assigned curfew, but it’s not like your parents would notice. They’d be home even later, since they’re stuck at your grandparents’ house. You snicker to yourself while you unlock the door, imagining the invigorating conversations they’re having over there.

The first thing you’re (begrudgingly) met with is Jungkook sitting on your couch, watching football.

“You’re home late,” He says, eyes glued to the screen. You kick off your shoes, letting them land wherever they want to, and you ignore him. You weren’t about to let anyone, not even Jungkook, ruin the fun night you had. It was too much for you to be constantly miserable.

Then, as if on cue, the smell of chocolate chip cookies wafts into your nose rather pleasantly.

“Did you guys bake?” You ask quietly, taking off your jacket. Jungkook nods.

You walk over to the garage door, where the coat closet is. Putting away your jacket, you smile to yourself. A cookie sounds amazing right now.

Grabbing some milk out of the fridge, you pour yourself a glass and take a second to really take in the beauty of the cookies. They’re perfectly browned at their edges, while their center is a light tan, and there’s a few visible chocolate chunks in all of them. Your mouth waters, despite stuffing yourself with milkshakes and fries. You place three cookies on a plate.

“I’ll be in my room,” You say as you walk up the stairs. You know Jungkook doesn’t care, but it’s been a force of habit ever since you were a kid.

When you reach your room, you quickly open the dormer window so you can sit on the roof.

If you were ever to meet the person who designed this house, you would give them a big hug and ask them to marry you, regardless of their gender. The dormer window and its alcove has been a safe space for you growing up, and you sit on the roof every time you need to clear your mind or if you just needed to treat yourself on an especially rough day.

You swing your legs outside the window, slowly moving near the edge of the sill until you’re comfortable. The brisk night air makes its way into your room, the wind pushing your hair gently in different directions. There’s a soft symphony of crickets chirping, and you take this moment to stare at the night sky.

A handful of stars shine in the pitch black sky, more than you’d see in the city but less than you’d see in the country. You make a silent prayer that one day that you’d be able to experience what a full starry night sky would be like.

Your plate of cookies and glass of milk is placed on the window seat. A cookie finds its way off of the plate, into your hands, and then into your mouth. The first bite is perfect, bits of chocolate and cookie crumbs left on your lips. You lick them eagerly, feeling nothing but euphoric as you take a sip of your milk.

“Never knew Tina could bake,” You hear a low voice behind you. It’s soft, but you still jump when you’re taken out of your cookie-intoxicated trance.

Looking up, you see Jungkook at your door, walking over to you. Your face is stuffed with mashed up cookie bits and some milk, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too tired to care, nonchalantly wiping off your faint milk moustache with the sleeve of your sweater.

“She’s great at it.”

“I know,” He chuckles before pointing to the window cushion, “Mind if I…?”

“If I said that I did mind,” You move your plate and your glass to the side so Jungkook has space, “What would you do?”

“I’d sit down anyways,” He jokes, doing just as he says.

“No point in asking, then.”

An awkward silence befalls the two of you, but that’s how nights with the babysitter went, unnerving pauses constantly appearing as he tries to figure out what to say to annoy you.

In fact, you’ve created a game out of these situations. You try to guess what he’ll tell you this time. Right now, you’re betting that he’ll mention something about your peach fuzz, or that you’re a fattie for having cookies late at night. He’s called you thunder thighs before. You wouldn’t put him past calling you a fattie.

“She talks about you a lot, y’know.”

You’re initially taken aback, but the night is too calming, so now you’re pulling your legs close to your chest, a soft sigh escaping your lips. You have your back turned to him, sitting on the window sill while he’s on the window seat, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You hear him sniffle, “Didn’t know that you liked the Power Rangers so much.”

“Are you kidding me?” You turn around to face him, “That was my childhood.”

“Mine too,” He smiles, one that’s different from his usual smirk, “Favorite ranger?”

“Trini, easily,” You point to the Yellow Ranger plushie laying on your bed, and he chuckles.

“I personally like Zordon the most.”

It’s not something you’d usually laugh at, but Jungkook ends up cracking up at his own joke and somewhere along the way, you find yourself giggling at it as well.

Another silence comes, and you finish the rest of your cookies and milk while he fidgets nervously with his hands. If Jungkook was trying to have a conversation with you right now, he was failing miserably. It’s somewhat interesting to you, seeing him open his mouth to speak, hesitate, and then closing it out of the corner of your eye.

It’s kind of cute, even.

You blink, looking forward. What the hell were you thinking? Was the loneliness really getting to you that quickly?

“Tina made those for you, actually.”

“That’s sweet of her.”

“Yeah, um,” Jungkook scratches the nape of his neck, “She told me more about what happened earlier today.”

“Huh?”

“With your parents.”

“Oh.”

You imagine what Clementine must’ve thought, seeing your parents continue to yell at you for hours on end about your sleeping schedule. She hates seeing her family upset, and that probably made her sad for a while. You hope that she’s sleeping peacefully in her room right now, tucked away into a land of dreams.

“Yeah,” He mumbles, “I’m sorry about that.”

Involuntarily, you let out a scoff. Whether it’s directed towards him or your parents, you’re not sure. You are quite surprised, though. Since when did Jungkook ever apologize for anything? Since when did he ever feel bad?

“No need to be sorry,” You mumble, “Not like you did anything.”

Another silence, this time being accented with some awkward coughing.

“I mean, I think it’s sweet.”

“You think my parents getting on my back about sleep is sweet?”

“No, no, no,” He quickly sputters out, “I mean that your sister cares about you so much. I think that’s really sweet.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” You say, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, “That’s Clementine for ya. Sweet.”

“Like the fruit.”

“Yeah,” You chuckle, “Did you know her name means ‘mercy’?”

It’s a fact you like to share with anyone willing to hear.

“That’s really cool, actually.”

“Yeah, my mom chose that name because I was too mean when I was younger,” You shake your head at the memory, “She said that we’d need someone more forgiving in the family, so the name stuck.”

“I can imagine that.”

“Shut up!”

“Sorry, sorry,” He laughs, and there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again, “It’s nice, having dinner with you guys.”

“Dinner’s alright. Shockingly average,” You shrug, drawing out the last two words, “Why do you like it so much?”

“It’s nice to see you and Clementine together, I guess,” He runs a hand through his hair, “Things like that aren’t so simple for me.”

“What’s wrong with your home?” Your tone seems a lot more blunt and judgemental than you intended it to be, but Jungkook isn’t phased. He laughs at your question, even.

“Which one?”

You got the memo.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal. You’re not the reason why my parents split,” He says nonchalantly, but then he laughs at himself again, “You know, I have a little brother too. He’s a little bit younger than Tina.”

You turn around and stare at him, and you’re unable to hide the surprise in your face. The position of you constantly craning your neck just to talk to him is uncomfortable, so you sit on the other side of the alcove, pulling your legs to your chest once more.

“What’s his name?”

“Yeonjin.”

“Not trying to be mean, but I always thought you were an only child. You kinda give off the vibe,” You rest your chin on your knees, “How come he’s never with you?”

“I don’t blame you,” He says, “It’s ‘cause he tries to always be with our dad. He also hates my guts, so there’s that, too.”

“...Can I ask why?”

The warm glow of your bedroom light shines on one half of his face, while the dim lighting from outside paints his other half. You take in his appearance, how his hair has gotten messier every time he runs his hands through it, how his soft brown eyes are bouncing around your room, studying each poster and each picture that you have placed on your wall. He takes a sharp breath before speaking.

“I hate my dad,” He scratches his cheek, “Well, not really? I don’t know, it’s confusing.”

“I get that.”

“I caught him cheating on my mom, I think two years ago,” He bites his lip, “And y’know, I told my mom. So they split.”

You nod, listening intently to every word he says.

“Yeon doesn’t know that. I begged them not to tell him,” He says, resting his head on the wall and staring out the window, “So he thinks that I’m why they’re not together.”

It’s during that moment where you realize that you don’t know much about Jungkook outside of the classroom and your home. You try to imagine what he must’ve felt during that moment, seeing his own dad with another woman. Then, you think about what it was like for him to know that his brother still blames him and will continue to blame him for everything.

The conclusion you reach is that you can never truly know the pain that he’s going through.

“You know it’s not your fault, though, right?” You point out, “It’s your dad’s.”

“Yeah, can’t help but feel bad sometimes, y’know?”

“I mean, no shit.”

A few light, sad chuckles emit from both of your lips.

“Well, that was strangely freeing,” He hummed, “I think you’re the second person in our school who knows that now… I don’t really know why I shared that, sorry.”

You look at him. He’s still staring out the window, his Adam’s apple clearly defined since his head is leaning back. His black shirt stretches loosely over his skin, giving you a vague hint of the muscles underneath, and his sweatpants make him look… cuddly, almost. You don’t know why, but somehow he seems as if he’d be so comfortable to hug.

Even if he’s in basic clothing, he still seems to look good.

Your initial reaction to this thought is that it’s wrong, but you’re too tired to protest it. Instead, you’re focused on how shy Jungkook has gotten, how he avoids direct eye contact and slurs his words together, save for the occasional stutters in between his sentences.

“Don’t feel bad, that’s pretty heavy. You gotta let that shit out sometimes.”

“Yeah…” He says, more to himself rather than to you, “Can I, uh, ask you a question?”

“What’s up?”

“Why’d you and Jimin break up?” His eyes are on yours, and he’s immediately trying to take back his question, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me, cause that’s none of my business-“

“You’re good,” You chuckle, “He cheated on me.”

“Damn, I’m sorry, I never knew...” He frowns, “Y’know, everyone thought you were endgame.”

“Me too,” You replied, “But apparently not.”

It isn’t until you feel Jungkook’s hand on your face that you realize you’re crying. He gently wipes away the influx of tears falling from your eyes, not saying anything sarcastic or mean towards you. He’s just… there. Ready and willing to listen. He even shuts the window when he notices you shivering, a shocking contrast from his usual behavior towards you.

It’s the first time anyone other than Hoseok has asked you for the real story. The first time someone that’s not your best friend has actually taken the time to listen to the truth.

“You know that’s not your fault, either, right?”

He’s repeating your words, but for some reason they don’t sound so convincing to you.

“I dunno,” You sniffle, “Feels like it is.”

“Why would it be? He cheated on you. Not the other way around.”

You take a few moments to steady your breathing before you speak. You don’t know why you want to spill your emotions out to Jungkook, but under the moonlight and your bedroom lights, there’s a sense of security in opening up to him.

“This is gonna sound so fucking stupid,” You start, “And you better not tell anyone, or else I’m for sure gonna kill you right when I see you.”

“I promise, I won’t.”

“I’ve never… done it,” You cringe right when the words come out of your mouth, “I told Jimin that we should wait until we… y’know.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” He states, and you can’t help but be surprised at how understanding he could be.

“You don’t think it’s a little bit weird?”

“Nah,” He replies, “I also think it’s absolutely not a reason to cheat. There’s literally no valid reason in doing that, no matter how unsatisfied you are with your partner.”

“I guess so.”

The fact that Jungkook is getting mad in your stead makes you giggle.

“And plus, it was you. How do you cheat on someone like that?”

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook pauses for a minute, processing what he had just said.

“I mean, if I was Jimin- No, I mean, if I was me,” He gestures to himself, “Which I am, I would never cheat on my partner. It just makes no sense. You already have a whole ass person who likes you. I think I’d be happy enough with that already.”

“Yeah, you’d think so,” You add, and now it’s you taking a few moments before speaking again, “Um, thanks, by the way. For talking with me, and stuff.”

“Oh, no worries,” He smiles at you, “Just kinda wanted to see how you were doing because of earlier. You did look pretty upset before you left the house.”

You smile back, and it seems like he’s about to say something, but the sound of the garage interrupts him, signalling that it’s time for him to leave. He stands up from the alcove and grabs your empty plate and cup to bring downstairs.

“Hey, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, right?”

You both know the answer to the question but Jungkook asks it anyway.

“Yeah, of course,” You can’t seem to wipe off the grin present on your face, “There’s nowhere else I could be.”

If you had to go back in time and tell yourself that eventually Jungkook would start driving you home after school and that you’d actually enjoy his company, you’re certain that your past self you’d slap your future self in the face and say that you were insane.

And maybe the latter was true.

“You’re terrible at singing,” He snickers, trying his best to keep his eyes on the road.

You’d retort and say that he doesn’t know shit and you’re actually an amazing singer, but you’re too preoccupied screaming One Direction lyrics off the top of your lungs. You decide to just jokingly flip him off instead.

The band’s songs hold a close place in your heart, because their music was what brought you and your sister closer. Although you’ve somewhat grown out of their cheesy lyrics about love and youth, you had to admit that their music was extremely catchy.

And apparently Jungkook thought this as well, because he was quietly singing along to each song word for word.

“Didn’t know you were a fan,” You tease, and he’s caught off guard.

“I’m not…”

“I bet you cried when Zayn left.”

He doesn’t look at you, because he’s driving, but the tips of his ears turn bright red, and you roar in hysterics at his reaction.

“You know I very well could’ve just left you at school,” He’s got a smile on his face despite his harsh words.

“Oh, you’d never,” You reply, staring out the window and enjoying the basic scenery around you.

After the one night where Jungkook and you dumped all your emotional baggage on each other, you found yourself looking forward to him being in your company from now on.

At first, you only decided to be nice to him since he knew the fact that you were with Park Jimin—that bombshell of a boy—and you never got it on with him. It’s not something you’re ashamed of, but you know you’d hate it if anyone else knew, because the rumor that you were crazy would just then become truer and truer to them. So you became nicer, gentler with Jungkook. Plus, hearing his story made your heart sadden a little whenever you saw how excited he was to be with Clementine.

And somewhere along the way, between him walking you to your classes and buying a Poptart pack and saving one for you after school every day, you realized that maybe he wasn’t such a bad kid to be around. He seemed to like being with you a lot too, always offering to drive you home when you had practice and when you didn’t, he’d offer to get fast food with you before going home.

Maybe it was the solidarity of experiencing pain, or it very well could just be that you’re one of the only people who knows Jungkook’s secrets and he’s one of the only people who knows about yours. Maybe there’s some pity for each other present, or it’s simply just because the both of you are tired of constantly bickering whenever you’re within a 20 foot-wide radius of each other.

You could spend countless hours trying to draw a conclusion, and you’ve tried to, during the late nights where you can’t sleep where you’re tossing and turning around restlessly. But eventually, you end up falling asleep, always answerless to the paradox you’ve been trying to solve.

Whatever the answer was, you’ve stopped caring about it, because you deemed it useless to keep trying to find it.

“How’s the new routine going?” He asks, desperate to change the topic.

“It’s going, that’s for sure,” You chuckle, “I think we just need a little bit more practice and we’ll be good.”

One thing that you’ve learned about Jungkook after becoming his friend is that he loses his natural vulgarity when you know about his family history.

You noticed this when Hoseok came over to your house one night and Jungkook didn’t call you a demeaning pet name at all during the time being. He also never bothered the two of you, making some small talk with Hoseok before leaving to play Just Dance with your sister. (He bought her that game when he found out that you guys had a Nintendo Switch that you never use).

The first thing Hoseok said to you when the two of you went to your room and you closed the door was:

“Where the hell is Jungkook and what the fuck did you do to him?”

It was a comical night, Hoseok freaking out over the wonderful, ever elusive mysteries named Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook.

Another thing you (and Hoseok) had learned about Jungkook is that, surprisingly enough, his best friend was the Kim Namjoon himself.

This happened that same night, when Jungkook knocked on the door and accidentally overheard Hoseok say his name. Jungkook’s initial reaction was:

“It’s you?!” He almost shrieked in disbelief, “You’re the one Joon has a crush on?!”

His words, of course, came with a shrill: “He has a crush on me?!” from Hoseok.

Through this rude awakening, Hoseok and you learned that Namjoon was the only friend Jungkook had. Apparently, he started tutoring Jungkook when Jungkook was about to fail freshman year. Jungkook said that Namjoon was the only reason as to why he survived his first year of high school, and because of that he never left Namjoon alone. Eventually, they had strangely become the best of buddies.

And being the best of buddies meant that he knew Namjoon’s secrets.

(Safe to say, it was a rough night for both Hoseok and Jungkook but a fun one for you.)

“How’s Seok and Joon?” Jungkook asks, out of the blue, and you can tell the question has been on his mind.

“Hobi’s waiting for Namjoon to make a move.”

“Ha, that’s funny.”

“What?”

“Namjoon’s waiting for him to.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I honestly wish I was,” He chuckles, driving into your subdivision.

“It’s amazing how glaringly obvious the two of them are,” You sigh, “Hoseok made bracelets for him. Tell me that that doesn’t scream: ‘Oh hey, by the way, I like you!’”

“Yeah, Joon has so many pics of him on his Insta, you’d think they’d be dating by now…”

“They’re really, really oblivious.”

“Well,” He shrugs, taking a turn into your driveway, “It happens to the best of us.”

Jungkook walks out of the car, heads over to your door, and as usual he helps you out while reaching for your backpack and your cheer bag so he can carry them for you.

Clementine’s sitting in the kitchen, working diligently on her math homework.

“Tina!” Jungkook sings, setting down your bag on the couch. You walk over with him to her, and she has a bright smile on her face when she sees the two of you together.

“Hi!” She responds, “I’ve got something to tell you guys!”

“What is it?” You ask, sitting next to her and taking a peek at her worksheet. It’s something about fractions.

“I think I have a crush!”

“Holy-“ You stop yourself before you can say anything bad, “Uh, wow, Clem!”

“Yeah, wow…”

You and Jungkook look at each other with somewhat sad eyes. He may not have known her for as long as you have, but he feels the same, strange dull pain that you’re feeling in your chest.

Your little sister isn’t so little anymore.

Tonight was going to be a long one.

Late night conversations with Jungkook at your dormer window have become a regular thing.

It’s the moments where fatigue starts to really hit the two of you that you have the most fun with him. There’s no shame in what you say, and no judgement stemming from one another. During then, it’s just you, Jungkook, the occasional plate of pizza and snacks, and the moon.

“I can’t believe she has a crush already,” You muse, a hint of melancholy in your tone.

“She’s 12, Y/N.”

“That’s still too young, don’t you think?”

“How old were you when you had one?”

“I think,” You pause, sorting out your vague childhood memories, “In Kindergarten, maybe?”

“My point exactly.”

You curse under your breath as you’re obviously defeated. You hate when logic is used against you. Jungkook just laughs, performing his usual habit of rubbing his nose and jerking his head so his hair can stay out of his eyes. Both of you are leaning on either side of the alcove and the window is slightly open so that you can hear the regular music of crickets outside. A light gush of wind blows through, gently shifting around random strands of your hair.

Jungkook’s yet again scrolling through his phone, looking at funny memes on Instagram and sending them to the group chat titled: “Namjoon’s Angels” that he so cleverly named. Your phone buzzes multiple times, and when you turn it on, 4 notifications from the said group chat appear on your screen. They’re all from him. You look at the boy in front of you and he’s got a delighted smile on, eyes crinkled up into crescent moons while he’s so focused on whatever’s on his phone.

“We’re in the same room, Kook,” You say, showing your screen to him, and Jungkook’s a bit surprised at the nickname, but he quickly shoots you a fake glare before going back to his own phone.

“Those aren’t just for you, princess,” He retorts, tapping away on his screen, “Those are for Joon and Hoseok too.”

Your phone buzzes once more, and this time it’s a notification from just Jungkook.

[November 15, 10:40 PM] jeon.jk on Instagram *Sent a post* [November 15, 10:40 PM] jeon.jk on Instagram This one’s for you! :)

Upon opening the chat, you’re met with an obscure picture of-

[November 15, 10:41] y/nnnn_ beans? jeon.jk Beans.

You send him a questioning look, and Jungkook squeakily laughs, almost out of breath by how funny he thinks the picture is.

jeon.jk Do you not like it? I think it’s rather nice.

The most surprising thing you’ve discovered about Jungkook is that he’s quite the articulate texter, which is a weird juxtaposition from his usual character. It’s certainly the strangest thing you’ve known about him.

y/nnnn_ it’s quite off putting jeon.jk :(

“I’m right in front of you,” You declare, turning off your phone and putting it on the cushion. Jungkook rolls his eyes, but nonetheless does the same.

“But that’s no fun.”

“You’re so weird, you know that?”

“I like to think I’m pleasant to be around.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. He sticks his tongue out at you before looking out the window.

“Are you going to the football game tomorrow night?”

“Kook.”

“What?”

“I’m on the cheer team…”

“Oh,” His lips form a small, tight circle and then spread into a sheepish smile once he connects the dots, “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He starts, “Anyways, did you get invited to the party after?”

“At Taehyung’s?” You ask, and he nods, “I did, yeah.”

“You gonna go?”

You bite your lip, deep in thought over the question. Hoseok got invited too, and he was begging you to go because you hadn’t talked to Namjoon enough, save for whenever he asks you where Hoseok is after school.

While it would be a good idea to come along and really start to get to know your best friend’s crush, you could already tell that it wouldn’t slide with your parents.

“There’d be no one to babysit Clementine,” You reason, “I mean I’d love to, but yeah…”

Jungkook visibly deflates, so much so that he looks like a cartoon character. You suppress a laugh, an apology coming out instead so that you don’t make him feel any worse.

“No, I get it,” He sighs, shoulders slumped down, “It’s no worries then. We’ll still see each other after the game, then, right?”

“If you really want to, sure.”

“I want to.”

You smile at him, and Jungkook mirrors you, a toothy grin flashing your way.

Your favorite moments with your unconventional, newfound friend are during the late nights, because of times like this. Around you and around him, the world is soft and light. There’s a calming simplicity when you’re talking to Jungkook, and your chest constantly feels light and fluttery. His lame jokes become funnier, and your words towards him become kinder.

Even though it’s dark, the nights seem to shed light on who the two of you really are and how you two really feel about each other.

There’s no malice, no ill intentions towards each other either. You like being there with him. Time isn’t an obstacle, which is something you’ve always felt slipped out of your hands like fine sand. The world just comes to a standstill, both of you trying to talk as much as you can before your parents come home.

For you, time has been a nuisance. You lose sleep while you hunched over your desk, working on assignments because the night is the only freetime you have. Because of that (and so that you can peacefully talk to Jungkook whenever he babysits), you simply just do your homework in the morning. Your alone time is always cut short, since you’re swamped with cheer, homework, and family obligations.

You hated how time ran out.

After all, your time with Jimin had run out.

But when you’re sitting on the cushion in your alcove with Jungkook, you slowly but surely start to adjust to the ever changing world around you. Sure, you feel guilty about constantly dumping your emotional baggage to someone you’ve just become friends with after two years of having pure hatred for them, but time and time again he’s always reassured you, telling you that he really didn’t mind you venting to him.

It’s not like Jungkook was your only option, since you always had Hoseok to rant to. But seeing Hoseok happy made you happy, and you didn’t want to ruin it by being a complete pity party.

So yeah, maybe Jungkook was the only option you had. You didn’t really mind either, since Jungkook had his fair share of problems that he’d talk to you about. There was no point in feeling bad at all, actually. There was a fair exchange of listening and venting between both sides.

You did find having an issue to restrain yourself around him. Everytime he spoke about his brother, you just wanted to jump into his arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. Even more so when his voice cracked and slowly turned into silent whispers and warbled mumbles. Your heart always broke when he would start blinking more and more so that his tears wouldn't come out. Sometimes, when things really got rough, he’d let a few ones fall, but he always followed it up with forced laughter and a strained smile.

It always made you wonder if he was hiding anything else from you.

“Wait, Y/N,” He says, raising a pointer finger up, “You can go to the party!”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you forget?” He asks, seeing how confused you are, “I’m Tina’s babysitter.”

“I didn’t forget that…?”

“I’m gonna be at the game, cause, y’know, I’m, yeah,” He explains, “Your parents are gonna have to stay at home regardless.”

You stare at him blankly as it registers in your head that there’s nothing stopping you from going to Taehyung’s infamous house parties.

“You’re right,” You mumble, “Sorry, I must be tired.”

“When’d you sleep last night?”

“Yesterday?” You stare up at the ceiling while you try to remember the other night, “4… I think?”

Jungkook shakes his head at you, ashamed.

“What’d I say about sleeping late?” He wags a finger at you, “You’re gonna ruin yourself if you keep doing that.”

“Okay, thanks, mom,” You snicker.

He then changes the topic, now complaining about the very same paper that you stayed up late to work on. You added on to his ranting, speaking your own mind as well.

The conversation is stopped abruptly when you hear knocking. Jungkook and you turn from each other to see your parents standing at the doorway. Neither of you had even heard the garage opening, or your parents walking upstairs.

They’ve got tired, but happy smiles on their faces, and it comforts you knowing that they’re starting to iron out whatever issues they're going through. Your mom waves at you two and you echo her movements.

“Ah, I gotta go, then.”

Jungkook swiftly gets up from the alcove, grabbing his jacket that was resting on your desk chair. He greets you goodbye and then does the same with your parents, your dad walking him to the door. When both of the boys leave, your mom joins you, replacing Jungkook’s spot. She smells of steak and has a faint scent of wine about her. The relaxed, blissful state she’s in tells you that she’s intoxicated right now.

“Glad you had a fun night out,” You say, a soft smile on your lips.

“I quite like Jungkook,” She seems to not have heard your words, “Don’t you?”

“He’s nice, yeah.”

“He reminds me of your dad.”

She’s definitely a lot more drunk than you thought she was.

“Let’s get you in bed, mom,” You chuckle, standing up and helping her, “I think that’s enough for today.”

When you take her to her room and she staggers over to sit in her bed, you say goodnight to her. She responds, and you know very well that she’s most likely going to fall asleep with her dress on. You decide that your dad could handle that.

After getting ready for bed and crawling under your covers, your mind starts to wander, fixated on the idea of Jungkook and your dad being similar.

You can’t find a single distinct comparison between the two of them, but then your mind travels to the topic of your parents when they were younger. When they weren’t dating and they just knew each other as neighbors. Were they nice to each other?

Was there ever a time where they hated each other?

In between the many questions traveling through your mind, you start to enter the deep limbo of being half asleep and half awake. This doesn’t stop your curiosity about your parents story, as you see the two of them in your dreams. A young version of your mom bickering with your dad.

Then, it suddenly flashes to you walking with Jungkook in the hallways of high school, talking and bickering like you usually do.

Despite being heavily sleep deprived, you actually have a good night’s rest for once.

It’s Friday, which meant one thing and one thing only. It’s game day.

And although you complain about how sore your muscles are after practice and how you hate staying after school for so long, but when you’re sitting on the track, listening to the shouts from the student section and watching the football get tossed back and forth between players, you can’t help but be excited for halftime. You even become immersed in the sport, intently watching the boys tackle their way through the field. Half of the time you’re not completely sure about what’s going on, but you definitely were having fun sitting with Hoseok and watching the football teams brawl for a simple leather ball.

You had to admit it. There really was something magical about football games.

It was the way the grass smelt of rain and sweat, the way you could hear nothing but excitement from the crowds of students in the student section, the way that everyone was donning the school’s signature colors of purple and gold. The energy tonight is explosive, and you relish in every single section of it.

Your teammates are focused on the game and on themselves, making sure they remember the routines you have been practicing for months. But you, on the other hand, have separated yourself from the group of girls standing on the track and talking to each other. Instead, your focus is stuck on Jungkook.

Watching him on the field is like magic.

You don’t mean to, but your eyes follow him as he rushes past the opposing team, pushing past everyone effortlessly. He knows exactly when to keep the ball clutched closely to his chest or when to throw it to his fellow teammate, and he defends himself against the opposition, turning his back against them in order to protect himself from their tackles. It’s all like clockwork, like Jungkook could predict the other team’s movements. Even though you’re far from him, you notice the way he scans the field, so much so that you can see the gears turning in his mind. He’s got a whole map of the field and the teams in his head, creating a strategy right on the fly. All to get a touchdown.

Jungkook may be the big-headed goofball who used to enjoy annoying you, but he was a completely different person on the field. He’s someone determined and clever, and he doesn’t show off or become cocky when he’s on the field. Instead, he looks out for his own teammates and becomes a real leader.

You see this when Kim Taehyung, one of the running backs, gets tackled and crashes straight onto the turf, his helmet thudding quite loudly. Before Jungkook grabs the ball in Taehyung’s hands, he gives a quick tap on the running back’s helmet as a simple way of telling him that he’s doing a good job. To tell him to not give up and to get back on his feet. It’s a barely visible gesture that no one in the crowd would notice. It’s basically insignificant to… anyone, really. But you feel your heart soften when you figure out what the gesture meant.

Then you sit up, slightly, because his eyes meet yours and suddenly all the air in your chest has decided to leave. The crease in his eyebrows disappears and he’s beaming at you.

What amazes you is that Jungkook still has the ball secure in his hands, shoving his way through the hordes of players like they’re nothing.

You wonder what it’d be like to see Jungkook running up close. It’s hard to see from this distance, but you can see how the sheen of sweat glosses his skin. There was no doubt that he was muscular and you knew that, because you saw him every single day, but tonight his body is even more defined. They flex as he moves, biceps bulging because he’s clutching onto the ball so tightly.

You’re unaware of the way your thoughts travel to Jungkook being sweaty and hot on the field. Somehow it makes you feel like you’re betraying everything you’ve stood for by thinking like this, but instead of creating an even greater inner conflict between yourself and your conscience, you give up and continue to spectate the game.

(If by the game, you mean Jungkook.)

It isn’t until you decide to give him a small wave that he stumbles. He passes the ball to Kim Seokjin, the receiver, and quickly gets up on his own feet before he can fall on the ground. The opposition’s focus is now moved onto Seokjin, and so is Jungkook’s.

Seokjin reaches the end of the field. He scores a touchdown, and the crowd goes wild. The roaring sounds like music to your ears and you stand up, cheering along with your friends to congratulate your team. You beam when you see Jungkook running alongside the receiver, genuine grins on the boys’ faces. You feel proud, but you’re not entirely sure about what.

“We’re gonna kill it soon, Y/N!” Hoseok grins, and you mirror him, a happy smile on your face as well. He’s also too focused on memorizing the steps in his head to notice that you’ve been drooling over your little sister’s babysitter.

“I mean, duh,” You dramatically flip your hair over your shoulder, making the both of you giggle.

People say that cheerleading is such an outdated sport, but you actually loved it with your entire heart. You’ve created many lasting friendships with the girls (and Hoseok, of course) on your team, and the cheer squad was the exact reason why you had a somewhat reputation at school. It was basically the only thing that kept you going during the 3 years of high school you’ve gone through, and you’re sure that it’ll be the only thing keeping you sane for the rest of your years at this hellhole of a school.

Well, that was a topic for another day.

Because before you can have another existential crisis about the fact that you’re already on your junior year of high school—you haven’t figured out exactly what you want to do with your life—and that time has really slipped you by, the timer on the big, chunky, outdated metal screen ticks down. A bold, orange “0:00” appears, signalling that it’s halftime. The football teams slow down and head back to their respective sides, getting ready to take a break while the cheerleading squad gets ready for action.

When all of the boys are seated at their benches, some of them guzzling water or simply just catching their breath, you, Hoseok, and the rest of the girls make your way onto the turf. The speaker announces your team, staticky voice emitting from the speakers and filling the air.

It’s go time.

You all huddle in a circle, hyping yourselves up with team chants. It’s invigorating, being with all of your friends, getting ready to present the routine you had been trying to perfect for the past few months. You step into the circle, and the girls lift you up, throwing you up in the air. As you’re thrown, you let the force move you, your body twirling around. You land gracefully back into their arms, and the crowd goes wild once again.

The cheerleaders grab their pom poms that are lying on the turf and they get into position. Everyone places their hands on their hips, smiles forming on all of your faces as the crowd simmers down to get ready for the show. A beat starts from the drum line, and you all wave your pom poms in the air, the tinsel-like material sounding almost like rain as they swivel in circular motions. You scan the crowds, looking at all the different students sitting together.

Then your eyes meet, and your face falters.

Park Jimin is sitting in the bleachers, beaming at the Sophomore on the cheer team. You’re rudely reminded of her sitting on his lap in the back of his car, and your eyes become hazy as you try to save face.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Hoseok whispers, “He’s not worth it.”

You nod, averting your focus from Jimin. This was the final football game of the season. You had to make the most of it, and you weren’t going to let him get in the way of it.

The cheer captain starts with a “5, 6, 7, 8,” and the rest of you follow her chants.

The routine starts with a high kick and a right punch up, followed with another high kick and then a strict order of arm positions along with a few more kicks that you all execute with style. Some of the girls move to the front, doing backflips to entertain the crowd. The flyers, bases, and spotters, get ready for extensions while the girls in the front keep the student section preoccupied.

Hoseok is assigned as one of your bases, and two other girls—a base and a back spotter—get into formation along with him. They lift you up carefully, steadying you right away as you're raised up. The other flyers are lifted up, too, and you sigh in relief knowing that everyone did their extensions easily. You flash bright smiles to the crowd and they all scream, cheering you on as well. Your combined shouts add even more energy to what was already an electric game.

The cheer is something cheesy about having more spirit than the other team, and the words are really cringy at points, but you don’t care. You’d shout them to the ends of the earth for all you cared. What mattered was the way the student section responded with almost double the enthusiasm. Kids are hollering, practically jumping out of their seats and yelling as they repeat the school’s signature lyrics. There’s nothing but pure excitement for the game, the football team, and the cheerleaders.

You’re lowered down for a few minutes by the bases only to be thrown up quickly. Keeping your stomach tight and your arms stiff, you fall back into the arms of the cheerleaders underneath you. It’s a perfect execution of a cradle, and you’re practically glowing with pride for your team. It’s obvious that the coaches would praise you all at the next practice. The crowd goes crazy for your team as well. Once you’re placed on the ground, it’s your turn to perform flips and high kicks, and you carry out the rest of the routine effortlessly.

Staring at the crowd, you take in how everyone is smiling at you and your team, impressed at the stunts you all pulled off in such a small time frame. Their eyes are shimmering with pride and you’re certain that their throats have gone raw from all their hoots and hollers. The night sky is painted black, but the atmosphere you’re in is far from dull. The crowds are colored purple and gold, matching your uniform and the football players’ uniforms. There are kids from different cliques, but they’re all sitting together and cheering, showing the solidarity a school could have.

You hold on to the moment for as long as you can, your chest heaving up and down as you pose confidently when the routine is done. Hoseok looks at you with immense pride and you do the same, both of you practically radiating out there on the field.

Eventually, halftime is over and you’re back to sitting on the track. You’re sweaty, but you don’t care. You know you did amazing and that was worth it.

A wave of uneasiness hits your chest when you see the sophomore rush over to her backpack to check her phone. She grins at her screen before running over to your coach, using some lame excuse so she can leave. After that, she rushes out, and you see Jimin following suit.

You plan to see what they’re doing, but Hoseok grabs your wrist, already knowing what you were going to do.

“Y/N,” His voice is stern, “I love you. Don’t.”

“But-“

“It’s not a good idea. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Some of your nerves fade away when Hoseok demands that you’ll get pictures with him, even if both of you are drenched in sweat. He reasons that it’s because you rarely have any pictures with him. But isn’t that the sign of true friendship? Not being able to have pictures because you’re either having too much fun together or the both of you look so ugly you can’t even bear to have a photo taken? You use that reasoning with Hoseok and he simply pinches your cheek, telling you that you’re insufferable and forcing one of your teammates to take your pictures.

When the game is almost done, the sophomore is nowhere to be seen.

You see your coach asking around the other girls, but they all respond with a shrug. Hoseok keeps you distracted by talking about the new friend group you’ve created with him, Namjoon, and Jungkook. Then, he starts to talk about Namjoon and the latest “date but not date” that they had last weekend. You realize you’ve never wanted to talk about Namjoon more than ever before.

While he’s gushing, you look at the photos you’ve taken with your best friend. A satisfied smile finds its way on your face when you see that they ended up a million times better than you thought it would. Hoseok also admires them while you swipe through the many new pictures in your camera roll.

“Told you it’d end up good.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You decide that you’d post your favorite ones, since you haven’t put anything new on your Instagram.

You tap on the app, planning to create a draft to post tomorrow. To your surprise, though, a new post from Jimin appears on your timeline. It’s a picture of the girl in his car. She has a bright smile on her face, her cheeks tinted a rosy pink.

Under the picture there’s a blue heart.

You’re reminded of all of the posts he had of you that had the exact same caption. You frown. Blue was your favorite color.

You go to his page, and all of your photos from before are gone. You’re frozen in your spot. Your mouth feels incredibly dry and a hard, rough lump forms in your throat. Your eyes start to sting, and the pain you thought you’ve forgotten about has come back twice as strong.

Hoseok notices this and you hand him his phone.

“Y/N… I’m so sorry.”

“I’m gonna,” You wipe your eyes and fan away the moisture so you don’t mess up your mascara, “I’m gonna go home after this.”

“Do whatever you need to,” He says, patting your head so you can rest your head on his shoulder, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You text your parents, asking them to drive you home.

The game is slow, dull, and boring, but after such an excruciatingly long wait, it finally ends. Once it’s over, you’re immediately walking out and making your way to your parents car. You ignore all of the students around you, pushing your way through them.

You also ignore Jungkook, who’s been running after you right when the game ends but loses you in the crowd.

When you come home, the car ride with your mom consisting of you breaking down and your mom comforting you, your mom quickly takes you to the bathroom, drawing a warm bath for you. She closes the door so neither Clementine or your dad can see the state you’re in, and she drops in a few drops of lavender into the steamy water. You hastily take off your uniform and your makeup, wanting nothing more than to get in the tub.

Shutting your eyes, you allow yourself to feel the warm water soaking your skin. The oil she added to the bath creates a pleasant scent to the steam, and your lips curve upward when you get a whiff of it. You rest your head against the edge of the porcelain surface, eyes getting hazy as the scent of lavender drowns out your senses. Your mother puts her hands through your hair, massaging your head with shampoo.

If your mother was being this gentle, this nice to you, then this was really serious.

When she plants a loving kiss on your forehead, humming sweetly, you feel your lip quiver. You were tired. This was your breaking point. You couldn’t take it anymore. Warbled, shrill sobs escape from your lips and you’ve lost all notions of self control. Your mom holds you close to her, indifferent to the soap suds and water soaking her shirt.

“Sometimes change is necessary for growth,” She says as you cry everything out.

“It hurts,” Your words come in between gasps.

“I know, darling, I promise you that you’ll find someone who truly deserves your love.”

“...Really?”

“Yes, and, you know, I already know one person who deserves it.”

“Who?”

“You.”

You hang onto every word she says, hoping that they’re actually true.

[November 16, 9:35 PM] Jungkook Hey, is everything okay? I tried talking to you after the game but I couldn’t find you Why is that? You don’t have to tell me, just wanted to know if you were okay I’ll tell Joon you say hi later tonight. He was really excited to hang out with you Sorry, I must be spamming your phone Anyways, just wanna say you did great tonight

Read at: 10:01 PM

[November 19, 4:02] Jungkook You didn’t show up to school today I think this is actually the first time you’ve skipped school Let me know if you need the homework or anything Read at: 4:10

You tap out of the conversation and put your phone face down on your nightstand. Tossing around in the bed, the sheets are uncomfortably hot around your sweaty skin. Your room is humid, since you’ve been doing nothing but lay in your bed for the past 3 days. Your eyelids slowly droop downward while you attempt to remove yourself from the throbbing pain in your head.

A slow, soft creak emits from your door. You open your eyes to see your sister, holding a tray with a cup of water and a grilled cheese sandwich. She still has her school clothes on.

“We ran out of soup,” She says, walking over to you.

You give her a weak smile, shifting over so she can sit next to you.

“Thank you, Clem.”

She sits up straight, expectantly watching you eat. She waits for your reaction, and your lips curve up naturally while you chew, she lets out the breath she’s unconsciously been holding in.

“Are you… doing okay?”

“I’ll be alright,” You nod, and then you roll up the sleeve of your hoodie to flex your bare arm, “Your sister’s strong.”

Clementine giggles and she leans back, resting her head on your shoulder. Her hair tickles your skin, but you don’t care. The grilled cheese in your mouth tastes absolutely amazing—most likely because you haven’t eaten anything since a bowl of soup yesterday.

“I never…” She starts, but then stops. You reassure her that she can tell you whatever she wants, and with a deep breath, she continues, “I never really… liked him.”

“Hm?”

“Jimin. I never liked him,” Her words lower into a nervous whisper. You wonder how long she’s been holding it in. She looks up at you once more, “Sometimes I could hear when you guys talked on the phone.”

Your initial response is to be angry, but there’s no point to. It wasn’t her fault that your rooms were so close to each other. Clementine scoots down so that she can rest her head on your chest, and you wrap your arms around her.

“He was kinda mean,” She sighs, “And I didn’t like how he talked to you.”

You nod. There was a truth in her words. You imagine what she thought hearing you cry behind a closed door, hearing you freak out because Jimin would end the call on you randomly when you mentioned Hoseok. Thinking back on it, Jimin was quite possessive when the two of you were together. Quite ironic.

“He’s like Gaston.”

“Gaston?”

“Yeah, full of himself,” She spits bitterly, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen your sister speak negatively towards someone, “Only likes you ‘cause you’re pretty. Gets mad if you don’t give him something when he’s nice to you.”

Despite her dulled down description of Jimin, her words are a rude awakening for you. It’s as if you were roughly picked up and dropped into a cold, freezing bath, the frigid water creating an abrupt awareness of the reality of your past relationship. The reality was that Jimin was terrible to you, and no matter how many times you tried to label it nicely, tried to dumb it down so you yourself could swallow it easily, the truth is that whatever the two of you had wasn’t love.

It hits you that you really don’t know anything about love.

“You deserve someone better than Jimin.”

“You can say that again,” You chuckle, but Clementine cranes her neck and looks at you with burning eyes.

“No, I mean it,” She huffs, “He was terrible-“

“I know, I know, Clem,” You give her a light, reassuring smile, “But we’ll figure that out later, ‘kay? Right now it’s just you and me.”

“Yeah,” She relaxes, resting on you again, “I’d like that.”

You pinch her cheek before speaking again.

“So, you wanna tell me more about the new guy?”

She hides herself in your embrace instantly. Her new crush, Lucas, seemed quite nice from what she tells you.

The rest of your day is spent with Clementine over board games, movies, and cookies, and from how she eagerly spills out everything to you, you realize just how much she’s held from you, afraid to bother you since you “had a lot on her plate”. You secretly promise her that you’d be there for her more, that you’d forever be a shoulder to cry on for her from now on.

It’s almost funny, how a breakup forced you into having a better relationship with your sister.

When the night falls and you’re in Clementine’s room with her, ready to say goodnight, she musters enough courage to say something else to you.

“I like Jungkook.”

“I know, so does everyone,” You reply, suddenly remembering the multiple text messages from him that you’ve ignored.

Would he be upset with you? You decide that you’ll deal with that later.

“I like the way he looks at you.”

“What do you mean?�� You questioningly state, taking the covers and putting it over her body. Even though she’s already 12, you don’t think you’ll ever stop tucking her in. She doesn’t object, either, eagerly accepting your advances and pulling the covers over so only her head pops out.

“He kinda,” She yawns, “He looks at you different.”

“Different?” You chuckle lightly, reaching out to turn off her lamp.

“Yeah,” She slowly closes her eyes, “Like how Dad looks at Mom.”

You freeze in place at her words, but then you quickly shake it off. She was most likely dreaming.

“You must be tired, Clem,” You mumble, “You should sleep.”

“Yeah, I should.”

You leave Clementine so she can sleep peacefully. With the absence of her around you comes the presence of an underlying issue that you never noticed was in your life.

When did Jungkook ever come into the equation?

Returning to your habit of tossing and turning around uncomfortably in your own bed, your mind tackles the notion of what your true feelings are for Jungkook.

Was he a bad person? Certainly not, from what you’ve learned. Were you guys friends? Yes, you were, obviously, from all the conversations you’ve had at your window.

Staring at said window, you imagine Jungkook sitting there, with his wide grin and his tousled, chestnut hair. You can almost smell the scent of his laundry detergent on your nose. His laugh rings in your ears, soft, breathy chuckles sounding almost like a melody to you. You think of all the times he’s walked you to your classes, dropping you off to your room before rushing on over to his own class that was on the other side of the building. He’s never told you, but you know that he’s always late to class because of you. This revealed itself because you’d see Jungkook hastily walking over to the attendance office to get tardy slips for his teacher.

You chuckle at the thought. It never registered in his head that the office was in the hallway of your 6th hour, so whenever he gets a slip you’ll see him pass by your doorway.

An image of Jungkook with Clementine flashes in your mind when you close your eyes. You see him dancing goofily with her to some Spanish song you’re not familiar with, all so that Clementine will be comfortable dancing around him. You take in how he smiles at her, how he looks at her so happily, and how he’s so eager to embarrass himself because he just likes seeing her laugh.

Then, when you close your eyes, you see Jungkook looking at you. His eyes are soft, and there’s something there you can’t really describe. It makes you feel safe, makes you feel like you can put your guard down around him. You notice that whenever your eyes meet his, there’s a bright, warm smile on his face.

A light, fluttery feeling hits your chest, but it’s far too faint for it to be significant, you think. You brush it off as something trivial. Jungkook was your friend, and that was that.

He was nothing more and nothing less, thank you very much.

[November 20, 12:30 AM] Y/N sorry for not texting back haven’t been feeling well i’ll be back tmrw, tho you got time to talk after school tmrw? we could get burgers or something [November 20, 12:31 AM] Jungkook Of course, yeah It’s no worries btw, Y/N Just wanna know you’re okay. I’m driving you I’m guessing? Y/N yeah there’s no one else who will, lol

Going back to school is a little rough, and although you only missed one day, you were already toppled with absent work and new lessons that you had to teach yourself.

But every worry seemed to disappear when you finally got to the diner with Jungkook. During this, you explain everything to him, stuffing your mouth with the fries that you loved so much. Jungkook listens to every single word you say, gnawing down on his bowl of mac n’ cheese.

“That’s so shitty of him.”

You can sense the anger in his tone.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” You shrug, pulling your strawberry smoothie close to you so you can take a sip, “Not my place anymore.”

Jungkook redacts what he was about to say, only nodding as to make sure he doesn’t speak over you.

“Sorry about not responding,” You mumble, and he shakes his head profusely.

“No, no, I get it,” He smiles fondly at you, “Don’t be sorry. I’m here for you, okay?”

It amazes you how understanding he can be. Seems like just yesterday he was chewing gum obnoxiously in your ears, blowing bubbles and popping them in hopes that the sound would destroy your eardrums.

Jungkook fills you in on what you had missed yesterday, already offering to help you if you need any help. The two of you spend the time at the diner talking about anything and everything, and things somewhat feel normal for once.

You wish that everything could stay just like this in the diner, where Jungkook is sitting in front of you, cracking lame jokes left and right and you’re laughing so hard that you can’t even be bothered to breathe anymore.

A few weeks pass, and you’ve slowly started to adjust to the “new normal” of your life. But this was only because you had such amazing friends to help you out whenever you saw Jimin with his new girlfriend. Hoseok has been there for you and always will be, Jungkook constantly has new jokes up his sleeve that he’s constantly waiting to use, and even though you’re not that close with Namjoon just yet, you’ve learned just how kindhearted he is.

This is because when you told him the whole story of you and Jimin, he started sending you pretty flowers every single day. Those were Namjoon’s “cheer up” texts that gave you a soft comfort when you received them.

Slowly but surely, your regular diner dates with Hoseok have turned into full on hangouts with the other two boys. Jungkook would drive you, while Namjoon would take Hoseok. Usually, though, your hangouts would consist of you and Jungkook losing your appetites over how sweet Namjoon and Hoseok are to each other. There wasn’t one time where Jungkook wouldn’t roll his eyes to you when Namjoon would compliment Hoseok’s hair, and you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve lost it over Hoseok pinching Namjoon’s cheek whenever he teases him.

It’s still a complete shocker to the both of you that they’re only friends.

But you honestly wouldn’t change your new friend group for the world. Albeit sort of dysfunctional and unconventional, you all worked together nicely.

Things slowly came together piece by piece, and you felt that maybe your life would continue on peacefully, just how you wanted it to.

However, today is different.

After school, Hoseok asks you if the two of you can hang out one on one, just like before, and of course you agree, because you had to admit that you did miss spending time with just him. So you expect it to be a fun filled Friday afternoon with Hoseok. Maybe you’d hear him rant about Namjoon being clueless for the umpteenth time without ever acknowledging how oblivious he is himself.

What you expect, however, is very different from your reality, because when Hoseok and you walk out of the school building and into the parking lot, you’re met with a pretty sizable crowd. There’s kids, mostly boys, pointing their cameras and you hear multiple shouts and cheers from the crowds.

You’re about to stealthily dodge the crowd and head over to Hoseok’s car, but then a gap forms in between a few students and your jaw hits the ground.

“Fuck you,” Jungkook spits, his familiar voice confirming your suspicions.

The other boys spur him on, yelling out incoherent words that you can’t decipher. You grab Hoseok by the wrist and pull him over to the crowd.

Getting a closer look at the scene, you and Hoseok give each other a scared, concerned glance. Jungkook has Jimin on the pavement, landing multiple brutal punches across his face. Jimin, whose eyes have turned hazy, has blood coming out of his nose, and if Jungkook lands one last punch, Jimin is bound to have a broken nose (if he already didn’t).

It’s a good thing, though, that the principal suddenly appears, pushing past everyone and splitting the two boys up. Jungkook and Jimin are both sitting up now, tattered and beaten down. Jungkook wipes away the blood on his mouth, while Jimin tries to catch his breath, his chest heaving up and down heavily. His face is screwed up in agony and you wince upon seeing the newly formed black eye that he’s sporting.

Jungkook doesn’t look any better either. He’s got bruises all over him, and a handful of deep cuts and scrapes from falling on the ground. He has blood on his sweatshirt, and you can’t tell if it’s his or Jimin’s.

The crowd disperses, students not wanting to get involved with the authorities. You and Hoseok stay, however, because Namjoon appears out of nowhere, his arms crossed and a tired look on his face while he assesses the damage. The principal pulls them away by their collars in order to create distance from the three of you standing there. Once there’s a reasonable space between all of you, he begins to mouth them off.

“He made jokes about it but I never thought it’d happen,” He sighs, rubbing his temples, “I got the principle once I saw what was going on. I was too late.”

“What’s gonna happen?” You ask, voice coming out in a weak whisper.

“They’ll both be expelled for a little bit,” Namjoon strokes his chin.

“Expelled?” Hoseok gasps in disbelief, “Don’t you mean suspended?”

“The fight’s on school grounds, and they were both deliberately violent,” Namjoon explains, “If Jungkook had only made a threat to do it, then he’d be suspended. Expulsions last much longer than suspensions, based on what the principal will think is a fit punishment for the kids.”

Leave it to Kim Namjoon to know the school’s rulebook like the back of his hand.

“What’ll happen with sports?”

“Now that, I’m also not entirely sure,” Namjoon answers, and you can see the gears turning in his head, “Let’s hope the coaches will even be willing to talk to them.”

Jungkook makes eye contact with you and although he’s tired, he seems to have sobered up. You stare at him with shocked, disappointed eyes, and he looks down at his feet, like a dog who just got scolded by his owner. He rubs his nose, taking a deep breath and choosing to just listen to what the principal has to say.

What could have possibly compelled Jungkook to beat Jimin into a pulp?

The next night you see Jungkook at your door, the bruises and cuts on his skin somewhat faint, but still apparent.

“Um, hi,” His eyes bounce around from you then to the ground, “Listen, Y/N, I-“

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You hiss at him, coming out of the house and closing the door behind you.

“What?”

“Don’t you realize what you did yesterday?” You say, “Because of that you got fucking expelled!”

“That’s what I was here to talk about,” He explains.

“There was literally no reason for you to do that, Kook.”

“Y/N, if you were there, you’d understand.”

“No, Jungkook, no,” You shake your head, “I get it, Jimin’s an asshole. That doesn’t mean you need to beat him up for it!”

“Y/N,” He sighs, visibly irritated, “If you would just let me tell you why-“

“There’s no point, Jungkook!” You throw your hands up in the air while you yell at him, “You’re expelled! Do you even know if you can play football anymore?”

He bites his tongue, giving you a perfect answer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Y/N,” He grabs your wrists, forcing you to look at him, “If you had just heard the things he said about you, you’d get it. Please, I just wanted to talk to you and apologize. Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t mean to.”

He’s pitiful before you and you feel your anger rise.

“Y/N, he said such shitty things about you.”

“I don’t give a shit!” You retort, pulling away from him, “I don’t need you beating up people for me, Jungkook. Do you really think I’m that weak?”

His eyes widen and he’s at a loss for words.

“No, Y/N, I never said that,” He reasons, “I just didn’t want him to talk about you like that anymore. You guys aren’t even together anymore. I was fed up.”

“Don’t you think there’s other ways you could handle that? Maybe you could, I don’t know, ignore it?”

“Y/N, please,” He pleads, exasperated, “I know this sounds stupid, but I really couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry, I just-“

“Do you really think I’m that helpless?” You scoff, “That I can’t handle when someone speaks of me badly? That you have to do everything for me?”

“No-“

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“I know,” He mumbles, “I couldn’t control my anger.”

“Yeah, that’s apparent,” You deadpan, crossing your arms, “I don’t need you to fight my fights for me, Jungkook. That’s not how it works.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” You spit, “If you had known that, then you wouldn’t have done anything.”

It’s an awkward position to be in, fighting with Jungkook at your front porch in the middle of a cold, December night, but you’re too heated to care. You ignore how you can see your breath come out in a light fog whenever you speak.

There’s a thin covering of snow everywhere, and you’re glad that you consistently wear a hoodie and sweatpants as pajamas in both summer and winter. Some snowflakes are resting on Jungkook’s head, leaving delicate white, sparkling dots in his hair. Matched with his red nose and red ears, you’d almost say he was adorable if you weren’t cussing him out right now.

“Why would you even think that was okay? Why would you do that?”

“Y/N… I…” He sputters out, “I just…”

“You just what? You think I’m so weak that I can’t handle my own problems?” You roll your eyes, “You’re unbelievable, Jungkook. You really think that I’m that weak?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“You don’t get it do you?” He scoffs.

“What do you mean?”

“I did it because I couldn’t stand to hear him talking shit about you.”

“Why couldn’t you? It’s not your issue. It’s mine, and quite frankly-“

“It’s because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” He yells out, then coughs once his confession registers in his head, “I couldn’t… I didn’t want to hear him anymore.”

HIs words make your breath catch in your throat. Your heart stops, and Jungkook stares up at you nervously. You step away from, shaking your head profusely.

“No, you’re not,” You breathe out, “You’re really not.”

“I know it’s super wrong to say this now, I just,” He scratches the nape of his neck, “I guess I felt that I needed to tell you.”

“You barely even know me,” You say, and you can’t explain why tears well up in your eyes. You wipe them away, “Go home, Jungkook. It’s late.”

You’re about to go back into the house but Jungkook’s words make you stop dead in your tracks.

“I know that you’re ass at drawing,” He prompts, “You’re also shit at singing, but you do both anyways, because you think it’s fun.”

“Kook-“

“You say that you don’t do much in your freetime, but I know that you spend all of your time hanging out with Tina whenever you can, because you care about her that much,” He states, “I also know that you secretly really like Monopoly, even though you’re fuckin’ clueless on how to play it. Most of the time you go bankrupt, but even then you’re happy playing that. You’re the only person I know who’s like that.”

You’re speechless as Jungkook begins to list off specific details about you that even you don’t know.

“You always try to twirl your pencil in class, but every single time you get embarrassed when you drop it on your desk and everyone looks at you.”

“Jungkook, don’t do this,” You turn around, “Listen, you don’t know what it’d be like to be with me. You wouldn’t like it.”

“Who says that?”

“Me,” You say, “I’m still confused about everything. It’d be bad for both you and me. And plus, what if I’m not over Jimin? You wouldn’t want that. You wouldn’t like being with me.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Huh?”

“Because I’m set, Y/N,” Jungkook declares, “From the moment I really got to know you, I figured that I wanted you for the rest of my life. And I’ll wait for you for as long as you need me to.”

“There’s no way you can be so sure.”

“I can feel it, Y/N,” His words are desperate as he tries to reason with you, “It’s different with you. I’m different when I’m with you. I’m happy.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do know, Y/N!” He shouts, “I’ve spent so many nights trying to figure out why the fuck I think about you so much until I eventually realized it. I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t sure about my own feelings.”

“You’re wrong, Jungkook.”

“Can you stop?” He snaps, “Stop belittling my feelings. Stop acting like you know shit about love, because you don’t. Your only relationship was with an asshole who cheated on you and talks shit about you even though he’s with another girl.”

Jungkook’s right. He’s absolutely right. You’re reflected on it, too. But you can’t help but become enraged when the truth comes out of his mouth.

“I don’t know shit about love?” You laugh bitterly, “Yeah, I don’t. And Jimin was an asshole. But you don’t know anything about love either.”

“At least I know what I deserve and what you deserve,” He says, “If you could just give me a chance to show you-“

“Show me what love is?” You interrupt, “Jungkook, how can you? Your own brother doesn’t even love you!”

You struck a chord, and you see that right when the words come out of your mouth. It’s only during then that you realize that using facts in your arguments aren’t always the best thing. Jungkook gawks at you in disbelief, his mouth ajar.

“I.. Jungkook, I’m really sorry. Stuff like that isn’t your fault,” You open the door and step inside, “I think that just shows we’re not good together. You should go home. It’s late. Goodnight, Jungkook.”

After that night and once Jungkook is done with his (mercifully given) 10 day expulsion, he finds a way to avoid you at all costs at school, going as far as to even switch seats with someone in the one class you have together. Your supposed “long lasting” friend group had ultimately split up, you and Jungkook giving each other the cold shoulder while Hoseok and Namjoon tried to find a good balance of seeing each other and you guys at the same time.

Jungkook no longer drives you home, and there’s now an empty seat at the dinner table that looms heavily on your conscience. Clementine hasn’t said anything, reassuring you that she’s happy just being with you, but you know that she’s having a hard time dealing with the situation as well.

His name is omitted in your house, and no one in your family asks about him.

Well, until now.

Because when your mom sits with you on your bed, asking what really happened, you cry once more in her arms, the guilt finally pushing you past your breaking point again. You tell her everything, and she holds you close, hushing you while you cry.

“Why were you so upset with him?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” You say as you think about it.

“Do you still have feelings for Jimin?”

You reevaluate your sentiments toward Jimin, and what used to be feelings of love and pain have simply withered away into disgust.

“No…? I don’t think so.”

“So what was the real reason?”

“I guess… I guess it’s because he was expelled and that means he could be off the team. He shouldn’t be risking that for me,” The words come out of your mouth almost involuntarily, as if they’ve been waiting to reveal themselves to you, “And the fact that he says that he’s in love with me when he hardly knows me… It was such a stupid fight and I feel terrible.”

You hide your face in your hands, thinking about what you’ve said to the poor boy.

“Are you in love with him?”

Something stirs in your heart, and it scares you.

“I can’t tell anymore.”

“Well, only you know what’s best for you, and you’ll figure it out. We’ll be here every step of the way,” Your mom assures you, “Can I just say one thing, though?”

You nod.

“When two people argue over something that’s considered stupid or trivial,” She starts, “That usually means they actually care about each other the most.”

[December 19, 8:09] Clem Y/N Can you come pick me up from Charlotte’s pls? I wanna go home Y/N why? is everything ok? Clem Please just pick me up I wanna go home I don’t like birthday parties anymore

“Hey, mom,” You rush over to her, showing her your phone. In an instant, you’re driving over to Clementine’s friend’s house. Once you reach the place, you knock on the door, and upon meeting the parents, you say that you need to pick up Clementine for an “urgent reason”.

It isn’t until she closes the car door and your mom starts driving that she breaks down in tears.

“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately, and once she regains her composure she responds.

“They made me,” She gasps, “They made me tell Lucas that I like him. H-He made fun of me and rejected me in front of everyone.”

You and your mom look at each other with sad, knowing eyes.

Looks like there’d be a warm bath and a lot of tough conversations for Clementine in the near future.

While you mope around and recharge your mental battery during heartbreak, it turns out that Clementine does the exact opposite. She overworks herself in order to distract herself from the fact that she’s devastated.

You take note of this when you come downstairs and you’re hit with the smell of chocolate chip cookies for the sixth time this week. They’re your favorite, but if Clementine bakes any more, you’re bound to get sick of them.

You ignore that and grab a cookie anyway, shoving it into your mouth with delight.

“Do you like it?” Clementine asks, nervous. You nod, and she beams at you.

For something as simple as chocolate chip cookies, Clementine sure does put a lot of pressure on herself to make them perfect.

“Seok’s coming over later tonight,” You attempt to make conversation while she’s already looking through her phone for a new recipe to try.

“Ah, really? That’s great! I miss him,” She smiles, “I actually, um, I have plans today too.”

“Really? With who?”

“Mom already knows,” She says rather quickly, “I’m going out with a friend to dinner.”

Despite your curiosity gnawing away at you, urging you to ask her who this friend is, you stay quiet. This was something she needed, and if your mom was okay with it, then things should be fine.

Leaving the kitchen, you go upstairs to take a nice, long shower.

“Y/N?” You hear Clementine’s muffled voice behind your door.

“It’s open.”

She steps in, and you stare at her in awe. She’s wearing a light blue, off-the-shoulder dress and from the looks of it, your mom has done her makeup beautifully. Her hair is curled, waves gently framing her face. She fidgets with the silver clutch purse in her hands shyly, while she feels your gaze on her.

“Do I, um,” She gulps, “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful.”

She gets even shier, sporting a soft smile on her face. While she looks amazing, she still is unsure of herself, standing awkwardly as she tries to get used to wearing such nice clothes. You feel a touch of pain that comes along with the swell of pride in your chest when you see how beautiful your sister is. It’s such a shame, seeing how fast time flies.

“Do you know which shoes would look good with this?” She asks, “I don’t think my sneakers aren’t really ideal.”

“Oh, definitely not,” You tease, getting up from your bed, “We’re almost the same shoe size, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay, you can borrow my flats then,” The two of you make your way to the shoe closet, and you crouch down to sort through the piles of dress shoes, “Unless you want heels?”

“Oh, no thank you,” She spews out, and you laugh. Even under all the makeup and fancy dresses you could put Clementine in, you could never change who she really is.

You grab a pair of light beige ballet flats. They’re rounded at the tip and have a black section at the too. There’s a thin, dainty elastic bow on both of them, and when Clementine sees them, she falls in love. Of course, you knew right away that she’d like them. There was no use in having her try on other flats.

“Thank you so much, Y/N!”

“Anytime.”

There’s a bright smile on both of your faces, and your conversation is interrupted when Clementine’s phone ring.

“Oh, I’ve gotta go,” She says, leaning in to press a kiss in your cheek, “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye, Clem. Be safe.”

“I will!”

And with that, she’s out of the door and you’re left by yourself on this frigid Friday evening. You sigh, slouching down into the couch and turning on the TV. You can’t seem to remember a day in your life where you’ve been by yourself like this, both your parents and Clementine off to dinner at some fancy places you don’t know.

For the hundredth time this evening, you check the time.

7:23.

Hoseok would be here any minute, but right now you’re left to your own device.

It’s during then where your thoughts start to travel to the mess of your own life.

You mindlessly watch the cartoons that are playing on your screen while you reflect on your past mistakes. Jungkook continues to flash into your mind and you can’t help but wince every 2 or 3 minutes when you’re rudely reminded of your harsh words towards him. You cover your face in your hands, regretting every single moment of your life up till now. There was nothing that was going to bring back your friendship with Jungkook.

Why did you care so much? You shake your head as you try to sort out the discordant jumble of your emotions. There was no reason to care. You had only really gotten to know Jungkook this year. If someone was able to develop feelings for you that quickly, then certainly they weren’t real. Maybe Jungkook is in love with the idea of you. Or he’s incredibly bored and mistakes feelings of friendship for being in love. That’s usually how things play out.

So why were you bothered so much?

Why did you keep checking your phone to see if he would ever text you? Even now you’re tapping into your conversation with him, waiting to see if he’d type something out. Without thinking, you type a simple “I’m sorry” out. The words glare back at you, asking you why the fuck you haven’t sent them to him yet. You let out a tired sigh and delete them.

Although it’s childish, your mind’s first defense is to tarnish your version of Jungkook’s image. Jeon Jungkook was, in his core, a conceited, good-for-nothing quarterback who cared about no one else except for himself.

You groan, hitting yourself. Every single word in that statement isn’t true.

“What the fuck,” You whine to nobody in particular, curling up into a ball.

Why did Jungkook have to force his way into your life like that? Jungkook with his stupidly soft brown hair and his annoyingly pretty eyes. With his kind smile and laugh that you’d love to record and just hear on repeat for the rest of your days. Jeon Jungkook, the person you’d never expect to be your new best friend, but here he was, just popping up out of nowhere and disappearing without a trace. You curse his name over and over again. Why couldn’t you get his face out of your mind?

His infuriatingly attractive face and his built frame that always makes an appearance, no matter how loose his clothing is. It’s a whole repeat of the other night, where all your senses, all your thoughts, are nothing but him.

You hear his laughter. How it’s so sweet, so soft. You see the way his eyes crinkle up into pretty little crescent moons, how his toothy grin makes yet another appearance into your mind. How his eyes look so endearingly at you, like you could do no wrong in his sight. You think about reaching out to him. Maybe for a hug? You’re not so sure. All you can think about now, though, is how warm his embrace probably is. He’s always gentle with Clementine. There’s no doubt that he’s gentle and kind towards you now, too.

How would he look, laying next to you in bed? How would he look in the morning? Would he have even messier hair? Sleepy eyes? A lazy smile across his lips? Would he—

The doorbell rings, literally saving you from the grave you’re digging yourself. It wakes you up from your thoughts, making you realize that you shouldn’t be thinking of a friend like this.

You run over to the door, and when it’s open, you’re suddenly engulfed in Hoseok’s arms. You almost topple over, Hoseok being quite taller than you and stronger. He’s got a giddy grin on his face, and it looks like he’s just received the best news of his life. You have a confused, although happy smile on your face as well.

“Y/N, I’ve got so much to tell you!”

“Let me go make some popcorn,” You say, excited to hear the good news, “You got the movies, right?”

Hoseok takes off his backpack and pulls out three DVD cases.

“Obviously.”

They’re all cheesy rom-coms that are supposedly targeted towards teenagers, but are made by adults that apparently haven’t talked to a teenager in their life, despite having been one a few years earlier. That makes the movies all the better, though, because Hoseok and you like to take your time to nitpick all of the flaws in every single one. It’s a nice pastime with your best friend.

“Well, let’s get to it then!”

For the first time in forever, you can’t wait to torture yourself by watching shitty chick flicks with Hoseok.

“He did what?”

“He kissed me, Y/N! He kissed me!” Hoseok squeals, and he almost drops the bowl of popcorn on his lap.

The terrible movie is long forgotten.

“In the rain?” You ask, equally as excited, “Holy shit, Hobs, that’s like a movie!”

“I know,” He can’t wipe the grin off his face, “I was so mad at him before, ‘cause like, he just wouldn’t do anything! But then he kissed me out of nowhere!”

He‘s head over heels, dramatically leaning into the couch while pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, an over exaggerated performance of a faint.

“I feel like I’ve been struck by Cupid!”

“I think you’ve been like that a long time ago.”

“Shut up.”

“Just sayin’.”

Hoseok angrily grabs a handful of popcorn and shoves it in his mouth, the popcorn squeaking and crunching between his teeth.

“I hate that you’re always right.”

“Well, that’s not so true anymore…”

Your head hangs low, your vision on the screen now on your own bowl of popcorn. You grab a handful for yourself, using the action of chomping as a way to preoccupy yourself from the guilt.

“Hey, listen,” Hoseok wraps an arm around you and you rest on him, “It was in the heat of the moment.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right there,” He chuckles, “But, hey, no one’s perfect. Jungkook was out of line. So were you. Stuff like that happens.”

“Why do I care so much?” You sigh, dejected.

“Because you like him,” He hums, almost nonchalantly.

“W-What?”

“You like Jungkook, Y/N.”

You stay silent, and Hoseok lifts you off of him so he can grab you by the shoulders.

“...Do you seriously not know?” His brows furrow, and you stare at him blankly.

“I think you might be wrong there, bud,” You give him a questioning look.

“Y/N, I love you. You’re an idiot.”

He stands up, and you’re still dumbfounded at his words. Hoseok reaches over to the coffee table and takes your phone. He clicks it on, the brightness causing you to squint. You take a mental note to stop having the brightness setting so high all the time. Once your eyes adjust to the lighting, you’re met with an image of Jungkook standing next to you in the living room, his arm around you while the both of you smile at the camera.

He’s got a tiara on and you have a fairy wand and a scratchy tutu wrapped around your waist, the tight elastic causing your t-shirt to bunch up in thick wrinkles. You involuntarily giggle to yourself when you see the picture. After playing a few board games with Clementine one night, she wanted to go into the attic and dress the two of you up in her old Halloween costumes. Of course, wanting to entertain her, the both of you granted her wishes.

And as if on cue, the smile from ear to ear that you’re sporting has dawned the realization on you.

“We’re just friends…”

“Y/N. I know you. You’ve been a bitch before. Without remorse,” Hoseok sighs, shaking his head.

“Hey!”

“All I’m saying is,” He puts his hands up in surrender, “Y/N, you know how good you are in arguments when you’re angry. You almost never feel bad when you use your words.”

“Okay, I’m not that bad-“

“Y/N,” He asserts, “Remember last year when you cussed that one Freshman out ‘cause he threw a french fry at me?”

“Yeah…”

“You went out of your way to sit down next to him and then proceed to tell him that if he disappeared, no one would notice.”

“I said that?” Your voice has only now become a pathetic little squeak.

“Yes, yes, you did,” He waves his hand after he speaks, “We’re getting off topic. What I’m telling you right now is that you’re blunt. Incredibly blunt. Like, holy shit, how can you say that? type of blunt.”

“I got that, but-“

“Not done,” He shoves the phone in your face even more, as to prove a point, “As we’ve seen before, you forget half of the crap you say. You never feel bad.”

You huff, not sure if you want to hear what Hoseok’s about to say next.

“Look at yourself right now. You’ve been moping over one sentence you’ve said to one boy for how long?” He wags the phone around, further emphasizing the said point, “And now you see one picture of him and you’re giggling like a dumbass.”

You sink back into the couch, the weight of everything hitting you way too strongly, too quickly.

“Well, let’s just say I did like him-“

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Just, just hear me out, okay?” You beg, and Hoseok tosses your phone on the table before slumping down on the couch, “So let’s say I did like him. Don’t you think I would’ve known by now?”

“Holy- Jungkook was right when he said you didn’t know shit,” Hoseok’s so close to losing it and killing you, “Have you seen the way you look at him?”

“No?”

“You’re insufferable,” Hoseok groans, whipping out his phone and scrolling through his camera roll. He taps on a video and he shows it to you.

On his screen, you’re sitting in the front passenger seat while Jungkook drives, both of you screaming out the songs on the radio from the top of your lungs. It was some cheesy song both of you hated but knew all of the lyrics to. You examine yourself in the video. When you look at Jungkook, there’s—yet again—another bright smile on your face, and there seems to be a twinkle in your eye. You cringe at yourself, hearing your voice and seeing just how wide your smile is, which causes your cheeks to puff up unflatteringly.

A hand reaches to your face when you notice how chubby it is.

“Where and how did you take that?”

“Remember when Joonie’s car broke down and we had to ride with you losers?”

“Oh.”

You think about that day. It was oddly suspicious as to how quiet they were in the car. Usually, Hoseok would’ve been nervously mouthing Namjoon��s ear off by then.

“Need I say more?”

You almost feel betrayed. Betrayed by how blind you’ve been, how stupid you’ve been.

“Well, it’s a lost cause,” You lament, “I fucked everything up. He probably doesn’t care about me anymore.”

“Not exactly.”

Hoseok swipes out of his camera roll and goes into Snapchat. He slides over to the Stories section and taps on one of the small circles. You’re met with yet another truth revealing image.

Took this kiddo out since some meanie broke her heart ;(

The translucent black bar almost laughs while Clementine smiles back at you—or, the camera, at least. She’s wearing the light blue dress from before and her hair has slightly gone flat, but is still quite wavy. There’s a huge plate of spaghetti before her, and she’s holding onto her fork with anticipation.

“If he didn’t care, why would he take the time to take Tina out tonight? He could’ve ignored her reaching out to him.”

While he is extremely right, you’re more focused on the situation itself.

“Why didn’t she tell me it was him taking her to dinner?”

Yet another betrayal tonight.

“I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause you probably would use those pretty little words of yours towards her.”

“Am I really that scary?”

“Not all of the time,” He says, “But that’s ‘cause Jungkook makes you less high strung.”

“Hey, I’d watch what you’re saying right now-“

Hoseok wraps his arms around you, and he lets out a shaky, forced laugh. You don’t hug him back, but instead you let his embrace cool you down.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Anyways, more important than you planning out my funeral in your head right now,” He continues, “This is perfect for you.”

“What? The fact that my sister is going out on a date and I’m not is perfect?”

“No, no, you really are clueless, aren’t you? You poor, poor little girl,” He sighs, “This is a perfect opportunity for you to make amends with Wonder Boy tonight!”

“He just cares about Clem, not me, Seok,” You pout, “It’d be nice to, but he probably hates me.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re also wrong!”

Once again, Jung Hoseok is pulling out receipts left and right with the sole purpose of proving you wrong. He goes into his text conversations and taps on a group chat between him, Namjoon, and Jungkook. You squint at the title.

“Therapy from Y/N’s Stubborn Ass?”

“Poor kid named it, not me!”

You roll your eyes, scrolling through the conversation. An odd clump of texts from Jungkook shine out to you the most. They’re all from the night of you messing up your friendship with him.

[December 6, 12:54 AM] Jungkook (Namjoon’s Stalker) I feel like I’m going insane I know I should be mad at her And I’m sure when I think about it properly, I will be But for some reason I don’t?

“Nice name for Namjoon.”

“Shut up and read the fucking texts before I lose it.”

[December 6, 12:55 AM] Joon Bug <3 Maybe you’re just tired, that was a lot to take in Hoseok yeah, but also try not to take it too hard. y/n’s kind of just like that. she thinks before she speaks and she gets way too angry for her own good. even more so if she cares about you.

“No need to call me out like that.”

“Trust me, Y/N, you needed to hear it eventually.”

[December 6, 12:54 AM] Jungkook (Namjoon’s Stalker) Yeah, you’re right It’s kind of cute, isn’t it?

The rest of the conversation is Jungkook praising you, adoring how “strong” you could be and how cute you were when you got upset. It’s a complete shift in mood from seconds ago, and obviously the reaction you were not expecting. The same fluttery feeling becomes stronger in your chest, so much so that it’s too obvious to ignore. You throw the phone back to Hoseok, not being able to cope with the heaping amounts of new information you’ve received.

“What time do you think they’ll get here?” You murmur.

“Soon enough,” Hoseok sighs again, this time in relief, knowing that you were finally going to listen to him.

You decide to ease some of your nerves by actually watching the movie, pinpointing the many beautiful flaws of the characters and the stories.

“Y/N?” You feel someone shake you, “Y/N? Wake up.”

You croak some incoherent grumbles, rubbing your puffy eyes. You cautiously open one of them, gauging how bright the lights are. Once you’ve adjusted, you blink to see Clementine above you. You sit up from Hoseok, who you’ve been leaning on for the past few hours and who’s still sound asleep.

Who knew criticizing three romance movies back to back would make you so tired?

“Hi, Clem,” You yawn, stretching out your arms, “How was dinner?”

“Great,” She giggles, “I actually have something for you, and you might be mad at me for it.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s more of a who, than a what.”

You nod, as Clementine helps you get up from the couch. In your sleep ridden daze, you forget about your urgency to talk to Jungkook and you also don’t recognize that she’s pulling you from your arm and walking you out the door. You only realize it when a brisk wind slaps you harshly in the face, causing your hair to become even more tangled than before.

Before you know it, you’re standing in front of Jungkook on your driveway and Clementine is running back into the house to find refuge in your best friend.

He’s dressed in a simple black suit, a white dress shirt neatly tucked into his pants. The thin, breathable fabric is tight against his skin, further showing just how built he is for his age. The scars and bruises have faded away completely, but you do see a bandage or two when his sleeve rolls up to scratch his nose or fix a piece of hair that’s out of place. His hair is neatly combed into a middle part, some of the hair fanning over his eyes. His hands are now shoved in his pockets, and he’s staring down at you, waiting for you to say something.

Small is probably the best way to describe how you feel when you’re in his presence right now. Underdressed, too, maybe, as you’re only clad in an old hoodie that has the name of a college you’ve never heard of, some thick, baggy sweatpants, and a pair of bunny slippers. Not to mention how messy your hair is and how your face is still puffy from the deep sleep you were in mere minutes ago.

“Um… Hi,” You wince once you hear how scratchy your voice is. This certainly is doing wonders for your image.

“Hey,” He responds, hesitant as well.

You bite your lip, trying to find the right words to say. You plan to confess to him, right here and right now, but another harsh wind hits you, causing you to shiver and clutch your arms around yourself to try to create some warmth for yourself. Immediately, Jungkook takes off his blazer and wraps it around you. He leads you to the trunk of his car, and once it’s open, he helps you get up there so you can sit.

Bless his parents for giving him an SUV.

The car trunk blocks out the outside wind, and Jungkook’s blazer gives you immense warmth. The scent of laundry detergent mixed with faint, pleasant cologne floods your senses, calming you down right away. Jungkook watches as you snuggle yourself in his clothes. His legs hang over the edge of the trunk while you curl up in a ball, leaning on one side of the car.

“I’m sorry,” You clear your throat, “For being an asshole.”

“It’s no-“

“No, don’t say that. It’s not something you can just brush over so lightly,” You look him dead in the eye while you speak, “I was terrible and I’m really sorry for saying such mean things to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Jungkook nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line before licking them. A thin layer of saliva glosses his lips, their color a more vivid shade of pink.

“I’m really sorry, Jungkook,” You repeat, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your voice is clear even though your heart is beating violently against your chest, and even you’re amazed. Hoseok was right when he said that you were good with your words.

Well, up until now.

“Y/N-“

When he says your name, your words ungracefully sputter out of your mouth, displaying just how afraid you are.

“No, I’m, like, really, really sorry,” You feel tears well up in your eyes, but you brave on nonetheless, “I get it if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, and that’s okay, I just-“

“Y/N.”

In a split second, Jungkook’s hands are cupped around your face. He stares into your eyes deeply, fondly, just like he always does. You blink back at him, eyes fluttering while you try to adjust to the proximity. It’s then where you see every single little detail on his face that makes him who he is. The little scar on his cheek, the moles lightly dotted on his skin, and the way his eyes seem doe-like, almost. You take it all in, noticing how your breaths have synchronized, cold fog coming from of both of your lips.

You almost forget how much you like the way he says your name.

“Listen to me,” He whispers, “I’m okay. You’re okay.”

“Really?”

“I forgive you.”

The tears you’ve been desperately trying to hold back have somehow found their way out, and Jungkook chuckles while his thumb wipes them away. His touch is gentle on your skin, almost ticklish, and he doesn’t say anything else but just continues to dry the tears falling from your eyes.

“Jungkook,” You sniffle, “You’re too nice for your own good.”

He shrugs, letting out a breathy laugh. It’s music to your ears, just like it’s always been.

“Only to the people I love,” He tilts his head to the side, “Other than that, I’m pretty selfish.”

You giggle as well, putting your hands on his and leaning more into his touch. Your eyelids flutter downwards, as you take the time to just feel him on your skin, to savor this moment for yourself.

“Do you still think I don’t know anything about you, Y/N?”

You open your eyes and look at him, as he expectantly waits for you to answer. For some reason, though, your words catch in your throat. You never seem to be able to speak properly around Jungkook. He sighs, taking your silence as a resounding “yes”.

“Your name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and you’re a junior in high school. You’re on the Monarchs cheer team, and your best friend is named Jung Hoseok,” He says, not taking his hands away from you, “You have a little sister named Clementine, who’s 12. Your mom’s a psychiatrist and your dad is an architect. Even though they’re always busy, they’ve been trying to find ways to spend more time together.”

The routinely symphony of crickets mixed with Jungkook’s voice and the scent of Jungkook constantly wafting into your nose almost makes you faint. The state you’re in is one of complete bliss, complete relaxation as his hands are warm and welcoming against your skin. You’d go to sleep if Jungkook wasn’t professing his love for you for the second time right now.

“You like One Direction, even though a lot of people think that’s cringy. You’re still a big fan of the Power Rangers, and Trini, the Yellow Ranger, is your favorite. You can be incredibly mean and you can say things out of line, but most of the time you just don’t think before speaking,�� He smiles at you while he speaks, “Deep down inside I know you’re an incredible softie. And I know that because of how you treat Tina. And, ‘cause you’re a softie ‘round me too, even if you don’t realize it.”

“Oh, Jungkook,” You breathe out, a smile forming on your lips as well.

“You used to hate me, because I called you thunder thighs during practice, and rightfully so,” He mumbles the last part, and you giggle.

“Didn’t know you’d remember that.”

“Remembered it ‘cause I can never forget how angry you were that day,” He teases, “Anyways, you used to hate me so much. And I’ll be honest, you had every reason to. I didn’t like you that much either.”

“Ouch.”

He rolls his eyes at you.

“But then I got to know you, got to see how kind and genuine you are around people, even if you don’t see that,” He says, “Sometimes you say terrible things, but under that tough exterior, all you are is just a genuine girl who does her best to make the people she loves happy.”

“You’re hardworking, smart, and extremely funny,” He continues, “In and out, you’re a beautiful person. That’s the Y/N I know, and that’s the Y/N I love and I will be in love with for a long time.”

You sniffle, and Jungkook waits, afraid that you’ll start crying again. When you don’t, he takes a deep breath before talking again.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Y/N,” He confesses, “Can’t you see?”

You shake your head, reaching out to grab him by the collar. You pull him in and press your lips against him, your whole body being set aflame and your lips telling him everything that you’re dying to say. There’s a faint taste of Jungkook’s watermelon flavored gum on your tongue (If you thought about it hard enough, there was a hint of pasta there as well). His lips are soft and pillowy against yours, and you feel as though you’ve waited for this moment for your entire life.

Who knew it would take your mom, your sister, and Hoseok to make you realize that?

Jungkook smiles against your lips, caressing your face lovingly with his thumbs. Your hand finds a way through his soft brown locks, combing through the strands that fall in between your fingers.

The sky is painted pitch black, save for the bright stars and the moon shining for the two of you, but your world is painted in deep shades of pink. Sure, it may be extremely cold because it is still December after all, but Jungkook’s lips feel warm on yours and that’s all the heat you needed to survive. You could stay like this forever if you could, if your lungs could take it.

However, that isn’t humanly possible, and after what feels like forever, your body reminds you that you still need oxygen to function.

You pull away, hands still in their respective place while the two of you meet eyes, chests moving up and down in sync. Your lips are slightly parted, mimicking Jungkook’s, and a silence falls on the two of you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s peaceful, as your world becomes nothing but Jungkook right at this moment.

“I love you,” both of you say at the same time, and before you know it, you’re laughing. Jungkook’s still stunned at first, but now he’s laughing just because you’re laughing and it’s contagious.

And in this moment, you feel safe.

Sure, you didn’t know a thing about love. You couldn’t even tell left from right at some times. But maybe that was okay. Maybe you didn’t have to figure everything out right now. Sitting with Jungkook in the trunk of his car, where the stars are beaming down on you and his coat is keeping you warm, is honestly all you need tonight. And maybe you still have some negative feelings you need to resolve from your past relationships. Maybe you had some issues in yourself that you needed to sort out, but that was okay, because Jungkook had his fair share of issues himself. And regardless of all of that, he was ready to risk it all for you. He was willing to learn and grow with you. Jungkook would wait for you as long as it takes. And you don’t need him to reassure you. You didn’t need to worry about it. You didn’t need to worry about anything, you realize.

Because now Jungkook’s walking you back into your house, offering to tuck you into bed and stay with you until you fall asleep, even though you’re 17 and you’re very well aware that you don’t need someone else to keep you company so you can sleep.

That doesn’t mean you’d decline his offer, though, as you lie in bed with him, snuggled up in his arms while he runs his hands through your hair. His dress shirt is scratchy against your skin, but you don’t care. Being with him is enough for you.

“Are you still on the team?” You ask out of the blue, eyelids drooping down while your burning curiosity gets the best of you, “You didn’t get kicked off because of me, did you-“

He peppers your face in kisses.

“Coach and I are close, he gets it,” He mumbles against your skin, “Just gotta do a lot of his chores for the rest of the year and summer. I’ll be okay, Y/N.”

“Okay…”

“That’s not your fault, princess,” He chuckles, “That was mine.”

“Yeah, definitely,” You nuzzle your face in his chest, “Still upset you did that.”

“Oh, I know,” He places yet another kiss on your head, “But for you, I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

And as the two of you fall asleep soundly in each other’s arms, you’re unaware of the loving smiles from your family and Hoseok’s faces when they see you two through the slightly opened door.

Epilogue

A little more than a year has passed. You’ve kept track.

Life has thrown obstacle after obstacle your way, but you’ve overcome all of them so far, and you plan to do so until your last breath. Jungkook was right when he said that you were strong. It’s amazing how you didn’t quite exactly realize this until now.

But this “strength” is long gone today, as you’re sitting on a fancy wooden chair, the soft cushion feeling good under you, in the middle of an Italian restaurant. The chandelier’s are dimly lit, shading your beige surroundings in elegant oranges and creams. You take a deep breath, trying to still your heart that's pounding violently in your chest. Your nerves work against every single word of the pep talk you’ve given yourself this morning, and you steady yourself, fidgeting with the silk, blue fabric of your dress that’s laying across your lap.

You look over to your right, and if you were stressed out, Jungkook was ten times worse, to say the least.

His right leg is bouncing up and down uncontrollably, and he continues to wipe away sweat from his forehead with a napkin, despite the fact that the restaurant is heavily air conditioned. His lips are formed in a tight, miniscule circle, and he’s also trying to steady his breathing, but he fails time and time again, hyperventilating right after. Every few seconds, he’ll pull out his phone and use his camera as a mirror, his fingers fixing the littlest flaw in his hair that his mind seems to create. His left arm is resting on your chair, the feeling of the thick material of his sleeve tickling your skin.

You sigh, watching how much of a nervous wreck he was, despite how amazing he looked in his tux.

“Still can’t believe you took Clem to this place before me,” You quip, and Jungkook is taken out of his trance, a smile falling on his lips once his eyes meet yours, “I think that’s a little unfair, don’t you?”

A miniscule portion of the tension in his body is gone while he’s thinking of what to say, not willing to miss any chance of responding to your jokes with something of equal (if not more) wittiness.

“First come, first serve, princess,” He chuckles, and you roll your eyes at him, punching his chest lightly. Once you’re quiet, he’s back to overthinking.

“Y’know, the fact that you’re more nervous than I am is saying something,” You hum, reaching up to poke his cheek so that he returns to Earth.

“I can’t help it…”

You smirk, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. His face flashes up, and he shakes his head at you.

“You’re crazy, y’know that?” He sighs, staring at you dreamily. Even now, he becomes head over heels when you kiss him out of the blue. The sight of him having literal heart eyes for you makes you giggle.

“So are you,” You respond, “But, hey, it’ll be okay, I promise. Nothing bad could possibly happen.”

“...Really?”

“Of course, Kook,” You place your hand on his thigh, giving it an affirmative squeeze, “Everything will be fine.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Well,” You click your tongue, “We’ll get there when we get there.”

He nods, most of the stress leaving his head. You take a sigh of relief, seeing how relaxed he’s become. Now he’s cracking jokes about anything and everything, and you feel a flutter in your chest. Jungkook was back to his normal self.

Well, he was until he suddenly froze in his seat while he was in the middle of telling you a funny story during practice. Your focus is turned away from him and you follow his line of vision. You’re met with a waitress leading a middle-aged man and a boy into the seating area. She scans the room and once she sees your table, she gestures over to you two, a bright, pleasant smile on her face.

Jungkook immediately stands up to greet the two of them, thanking the waitress for her assistance. He guides them to the table, and it’s only then where you get a good look at them.

You suppress a laugh. Jungkook definitely had his father’s nose.

So did his little brother, Yeonjin, who was the spitting image of Jungkook when Jungkook was 13. He even has the infamous bowl cut that Jungkook had when he was younger. The boy takes out the earbuds in his ears, unplugs them from his phone, rolls them up in his hand, and places the coiled up earbuds into his pocket of his trousers.

He stares up at you, almost in awe, and so does his dad, who’s looking you up and down. Jungkook’s father acts as if he’s dissecting a subject, taking you apart piece by piece and rearranging you in his mind so as to get a better understanding of your character. It’s times like these where you wish that mind reading was a skill.

Jungkook takes another deep breath. He then gestures to you, and you flash a polite smile to them, reaching out your hand.

“Um, Yeonie,” He clears his throat, “Dad, this is Y/N.”

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” His father says, a soft smile appearing finally. He shakes your hand. Yeonjin follows his actions, shaking your hand with an obviously lesser amount of strength, but with the same eagerness all the more. You hide the uneasiness in your chest, knowing all that you know about Jungkook’s dad and his brother. And knowing that his dad doesn’t know that you know about him.

Nevertheless, though, you sit down with his other side of the family and make easy conversation with them while all of you look through the menu. Yeonjin points to one dish on the menu to his dad, and then whips out his phone and starts scrolling through social media. He doesn’t say anything, save for a soft chuckle or snicker when he sees a funny post on his phone.

You take a glance at Jungkook, who has become more composed than earlier. You take a few more glances, and Jungkook does the same. When you make eye contact, you give him a bright smile, and he mirrors you. You feel the back of his hand on your thigh, and you put your hand in his. He lets out a sigh, squeezing you and massaging your skin with his thumb. The action brings both of you at peace.

“So, Y/N,” His dad takes a sip of the ice cold water in his glass, “How did you get to know Jungkook?”

This time, Yeonjin actually looks up from his phone to stare at you with curiosity.

You smile at them sheepishly, wondering what exactly to tell them of your wild ride of a story with Jungkook. Maybe you could omit some parts here and there, especially the part about him getting expelled because of you. You’re not even sure if his dad knew that happened to him.

You gulp, and Jungkook squeezes your hand once more. Now it’s him making sure that you return to Earth. Your nerves are still set on fire, though, and you stammer out a few incoherent sounds while you try to find the right things to say.

This was definitely going to be significantly harder than having dinner with his mom.

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed!!! it had quite a bunch of cliches but i loved writing them nonetheless. i love you all :)

#fic: my babysitter’s a quarterback #fic: mbaq #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bangtan fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook oneshot #bts jungkook fanfiction #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fic #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts oneshot #bts oneshots #jungkook oneshots

2K notes · View notes

sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years

Text

A Hero (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: okay so shinsou is such a cool character, kinda relatable tbh, so here we go. Friends to lovers, lots of fluff, cuteness. It took a lot of strength to take a break from writing my fav bakugo lol.

tw: you almost get assaulted

word count: 4400

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

So technically, Y/N wasn’t related to the Bakugos at all. She was the orphaned child of a family friend, who died a horrific hero’s death when she was only a couple years old. Without any other relatives in the area to adopt her, Y/N’s mother’s best friend took in the two year old, despite the trouble of raising two toddlers being quite daunting. Yet, her quirk wasn’t very dangerous nor special like Katsuki, so she wasn’t hard to manage in that area. Just a shy little girl, confused at the transition after the loss of her parents.

Y/N was never very strong willed like her new family. She was passive, the perfect representation of type B personality. Dependent, reliant, and fearful of adversity. The only reason she was never mercilessly bullied in her primary days was a result of her “brother’s” unrelenting defensiveness. He was an asshole, very much so, but he never let anyone pick fun at the girl. Not only did he kinda, sorta love her unconditionally as a silbing should, but his mother would murder him for not standing up for her.

But when they both got into U.A, suddenly the two weren’t equals anymore, nor would he always be by her side to watch out for her. Y/N was left behind in class C, while he soared into the top hero course. Y/N was support for the soon-to-be pros, not that she minded. The girl knew how weak she was, and unless she had a change of heart and decided to work harder on her quirk, she would never be able to succeed. She wasn’t motivated like those in Class A. Y/N never wanted the responsibility of being so good people relied on her, civilians putting all their faith into her. It was nerve wracking.

On the first day of class, Y/n said goodbye to her parents and walked to class with her brother. He carried both their bags, one on each shoulder, eyes staring straight ahead, brows furrowed with irritation as per usual. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, wandering slowly next to him, head hung.

She was scared, admittedly. This school was huge and so prestigious. How could she ever compare to the others there? It was impossible.

“Stop being such a baby.”

“Katsuki-”

“You’re gonna be fine, and you know it. You’re more powerful than those losers anyway, if only you tried,” he grunted, turning the corner to see dozens of other students in their uniforms walking around and entering the school. She bit her lip and sighed, wringing her fingers out of nervousness. “Seriously, don’t make yourself out to be a weakling. People will target you if you do.”

She paused, not taking another step as she confessed, “I know what I should do, it’s just putting that ideal into practice that gets me everytime.”

Time was running close to class starting, and he rolled his eyes down to her slightly quivering form. Handing her her bag, he told her calmly, “Listen, if anyone bothers you, I’m two doors down anyway. Just call me right after class if something happens, got it?” With a nod, he patted her on the head and walked away to the main entrance.

Her eyes drew up the high building, taking in all the shiny windows and the huge shape of an H made out of the numerous floors. This place was bigger than she had ever imagined, and that only scared her more. Yeah, it was bigger because it housed a lot of students who needed room to exercise their quirks, plus they were a very wealthy institution.

She had to tell herself that just because the building was scary certainly did not mean that the people inside were just as bad.

So she held her head a bit higher and walked through the crowds of students. She tried to remember where the counselor told her her classroom was, so she didn’t embarrass herself by getting lost on her first day.

Yet, that was exactly what she did. The school was just too big, and she was too anxious about her first day to think properly. So, with tears gathering in her eyes, she watched at the time ticked by on the clock. Her nightmares were filled with this scenario. Showing up late on her first day and everyone in the class laughing at her.

“Are you lost?” a voice deep and smooth spoke up behind her, and she jumped a couple inches in the air, placing a hand over her heart after it started to rapidly beat with shock.

She turned her head, brushing her loose hairs from her eyes. He stared down at her with an almost bored expression, just as his voice had sounded. He was tall, and very purple. Dark undereyes, wild violet hair in every direction. She didn’t really know what to think of him other than he was unique, dare she even say attractive in a strange way. He looked older than her, probably 16 or 17 even, based off his height and old soul aura he radiated. One thing she did notice about him though, was he felt gentle, passive and even a bit dismissive. It wasn’t the least bit intimidating, and she relaxed.

“Yeah…” she mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seems we’re in the same boat.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Class 1-C,” he hummed, beginning to walk forward again. She told him meekly that she was going to the same class, and he raised a brow. “Really? What’s your quirk?”

“My quirk is kinda lame.”

A small smile crept at the edge of his lip, her embarrassment and shy attitude amusing him. “And what would that be?”

“Well, it’s kinda weird so don’t make fun of it. I can um- well, my blood is highly basic and burns any skin issue it touches,” the girl mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. Her cheeks burned so much she felt like she had a fever. This is why she never liked to talk about her quirk. It was just plain absurd and kinda disgusting. Every time she used her quirk she had to slice her skin and sprinkle blood everywhere. “But, like, it does so much damage to me to lose blood that often I can rarely use my quirk.”

He nodded. “That’s definitely strange, you’re right,” he stated bluntly, and her heart stopped beating for a moment. “But useful. Really don’t know why you’d be embarrassed about it. Just because you don’t have endurance doesn’t mean strategy and technique can’t make up for that.”

Y/N caught up to him, walking at his side now although his strides were longer and harder to keep up with. She looked up to him, feeling a bit at ease seeing as he wasn’t rude about her quirk. “What’s your quirk?”

He didn’t miss a beat, his gruff voice sounding bitter and angry with his next words, “Something I’d rather not talk about. Don’t want you to spread rumors and lies about me.”

She had never heard someone so visceral about their own quirk. It couldn’t be that terrible, not to mention she wasn’t rude like the people he must have encountered before. She felt a pang in her chest, knowing that this reaction was no doubt from prior experience being hurt.

With a short shake of her head, she replied, “It’s okay, if you don’t tell me, but I wouldn’t judge you for your quirk, and definitely not gossip about it. I don’t have the social skills to do that kind of thing.” She laughed awkwardly. The bell rang overhead, signalling the beginning of the first period. They were officially late. “Oh, crap. We better hurry.”

“For what? We’re already late, doesn’t matter if it’s by a minute or ten.”

“I-I don’t know about that one.”

As they entered the stairwell to head up the stairs, he turned to her and paused, staring into her eyes deeply. She blinked, seeing so much purple looking in her direction. Quickly, she averted her gaze, and tucked her hands behind her back out of nervous habit.

“I’ll tell you about my quirk if you promise me one thing.”

She opened her mouth to agree but then shook her head. Don’t just make promises to strangers, Y/N, so stupid. “Um, depends on the promise.”

He took a deep breath, never taking his eyes off of her own averted ones. Waves of pain radiated from his form, hitting her square in the chest. “Just don’t call me a monster or shit like that.” And that was the moment she felt her entire heart crumble in her chest for this boy she had just met. He expected her to think of him like a monster for something as silly as his quirk? She wanted to cry for him, being as sensitive as she was.

“I promise.”

He started walking up the stairs again, done with his intense observation of her face, except it felt to her like he was examining a portion of her soul, her compassion. It seems he saw something he liked in her.

“My quirk is brainwashing, or mind control, if you want to call it that.”

Her eyes widened at the words, not believing that someone so powerful was right beside her, in the same class as her even. “Like, what do you do?’

“If a person verbally responds to me, I then have complete control over anything they do.”

“That is so sick,” she whispered under her breath, but he still heard her. His brows quirked up, and he gazed down at her.”Sorry, I just think that’s a really amazing quirk.” She smiled sheepishly, her eyes reaching his. He almost had to look away once he saw the sparkle of excitement and admiration in her gaze. Those emotions were directed towards him…

As they walked past a classroom, a loud voice called from inside the room. “Bakugo Y/N and Shinsou Hitoshi. I believe you’re late to my class.”

She rushed into the classroom in front of him and he followed. They conveniently were directed to the back of the classroom, two seats directly next to each other. She took a seat in hers and he slumped down in his, rolling his eyes at the glare the teacher had given him.

He looked over at the girl beside him, who he now knew as Bakugo Y/N. She peeked over at him, and a small smile grew on her soft lips, the bit of sparkle still present in her gaze towards him. He smothered down the urge to smile back, just lifted the corner of his lip in return.

Shinsou wasn’t exactly interested in making friends. He didn’t need them. This girl, though, he wouldn’t mind if she stuck around.

______________________________________

“So, uh, Y/N, do you need someone to walk you home?” Shinsou asked as they shuffled out of the nearly empty classroom save for a few stragglers. “Not that you aren’t capable of walking yourself home, it’s just that-”

“It’s fine. And actually someone already walks home with me, so no.”

He cringed, feeling awkward now. He shouldn’t have been so forward with this impending friendship. They had just met, she probably didn’t want some weirdo knowing where she lived either. “Oh, gotcha.”

“In fact, there he is,” she smiled, waving to a particularly angry blond walking down the hall with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sagging pants. Shinsou cringed even harder at this point, not expecting her to already have a guy walking her home. She probably didn’t have much room for another good guy friend in her life, he thought, obviously overthinking things. “Katsuki! How was class?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “Deku made a fool of himself as usual, but it wasn’t awful,” the boy replied as his eyes slid from his sister to the daunting guy beside her. “Who’s this?”

“This is my new friend, Shinsou. He helped me find the classroom this morning since we’re in the same class.” Katsuki blinked in surprise, definitely not expecting his shy little sister to already have made a friend. It took her years of middle school just to have a few close acquaintances.

“I gotta get going. My mom is expecting me home soon,” Shinsou told the girl, even if he was lying. He could go home at any time he wanted, he just didn’t want to feel awkward anymore. This guy was obviously close to her, and was giving him the evil eye for a minute now. Possessive much?

“Wait, before you go, let me introduce you to my brother.”

“Brother?’ he asked aloud. They didn’t look alike, like, at all. Nor did their personalities seem to resemble each other in any way.

“This is my brother Katsuki. He’s a class 1-A hot shot.” A pang of relief turned his stomach.

“Yeah, uh, nice to meet you.”

The blond rolled his eyes, gruffly brushing off the purple haired boy’s greeting.“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Y/N, are you ready to go?”

Y/N sighed, waving softly to Shinsou, a smile ever present on her lips when she looked at him. She mouthed as she walked away, ‘sorry’, and he just waved.

Maybe he was a creep for watching her as she left, waiting for her to turn a corner before he let out a breath of air. All he knew was that he felt as if he was sucked in a trance. His heart felt heavy in his chest, as if it were about to explode. The feelings were so foreign but pleasant, some of the best he had ever experienced.

It just felt so good to see someone’s warm smile directed at him, not an ounce of malice behind a guise.

Yeah…He really, really liked her.

_____________________________

The pair were friends. Honestly, Y/N was the only person you could get him to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that she was his friend. They trained together, and he assisted her a lot with her quirk. There were times when they were training alone and she lost too much blood that she would pass out and he would carry her to the infirmary. Time and time again though, teachers told him in private to monitor her. It was unhealthy to constantly lose pints of blood, and she wouldn’t be able to do it on the daily even if she wanted to. Since he and her brother were the only people she truly listened to and appreciated advice from, Shinsou recognized it as a sort of duty to take care of her.

Yet, with a bit more encouragement at the new school from dozens of teachers and other students, she actually improved on her quirk quite a lot. It wasn’t as if she had a useless quirk; it was very powerful in fact. She could burn directly through someone’s skin and the bone if enough blood was spilled. Therefore, the quirk could only be exercised in moderation.

For the first time in his life, someone actually trusted him. Not once did he consider using his quirk on her. Not only was she perfect on her own, but if he betrayed her trust like that, he might lose his closest friend. She was kind, but he wasn’t sure where her limits lied.

“Are you sure you’re okay walking home alone?” he asked his friend, who sat beside him packing up her books. Katsuki was out for the day with the flu, so she would be walking back home alone. He was kinda worried about her. She never walked by herself, always having the protection of her brother.

But she was a strong girl. There was nothing to worry about. He had seen her fight and she was definitely capable. It was just overthinking that sent his anxiety through the roof.

“Yes, I’m totally fine,” she laughed, finding his concern humorous. “You live in the opposite direction. I’m not gonna make you walk me 20 blocks out of your way.”

Although he nodded in understanding, he definitely did not agree. He would walk all over the city for her if she needed him to. Still, when it came time to part ways on the sidewalk, they waved and went in opposite directions. It was only after five excruciatingly long minutes that the lanky boy turned and started walking in the direction of her home. Even though he shouldn’t have, and easily could have texted her, he wanted to make sure she made it home. He knew the general direction of her house, and if he walked moderately fast, he could catch up to her.

So what if she didn’t want him walking an extra 30 minutes? If that made her annoyed, so be it.

Y/N walked slowly down the street as she usually did, her feet tapping lightly against the sidewalk. If she were being honest, she was a bit disappointed in herself for refusing Shinsou’s offer to walk her home. They would have a lot more time to talk in person before the weekend, and she never wanted to miss a beat with him.

Maybe it was stupid of her to be so attached but she thought of him as her best friend, practically the only true one she ever had. Dozens of people came and went from her life, but this friendship felt so special. It would last a long time she thought, and hopefully she was right.

Unfortunately, she was too lost in her own dreamy thoughts to notice someone standing right at the edge of the alley she walked by in a particularly deserted area of town. A hand reached and snatched up her arm swiftly, yanking her into the darkness of the alley and covering her mouth with his other grimey hand before she could make a sound.

Her back hit the cold wall behind her, feeling the rough bricks scratch her shoulder blades through her uniform. Her wrist felt like it was on fire, burning from the harsh grip of the snatcher. Using his knee, he pinned her other hand to the wall at her side, completely immobilizing her. She could have used her quirk, if she was able to produce some sort of blood-pouring injury, only she was trapped.

“Don’t fucking scream, you hear me?”

He removed his hand from her mouth for a moment to reach for his pocket, and as he did so, she let out the loudest scream she possibly could. Just as the sound came from her mouth, a cold object pressed against her throat and her heart stopped beating in her chest from sheer terror.

To think she was a hero in training at U.A., and she couldn’t even defend herself from a quirkless criminal on the street. She felt like crying, feeling a knife against her throat, wrists held down. If only she was just a little smarter or a little stronger; anything to get her out his mess. The air was tense and heavy, and she could barely get a breath in without feeling the bitterness of the blade against her skin.

She prayed, closing her eyes and letting the hot tears drip down her cheeks. If only someone would come and help. All Might was always there to help people, wasn’t he? Where was he? She couldn’t hope for her brother to back her up as he was sick at home, and she definitely couldn’t text Shinsou to come get her. Her phone was tucked safely in her backpack where she couldn’t dream of reaching.

God, she was hopeless.

The thug opened his mouth to say something else no doubt cruel or vulgar, but just as the first syllable fell from his chapped lips, a shocked voice echoed down the alleyway.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes widened at the voice, relief running throughout her entire body.

“Dumb punk, kid, just run off now.”

“No.”

“You don’t want to mess with-”

That reply was all it took for Shinsou to take control. The thug felt all control of his body lost in the air and a sort of tenseness to take over. “Drop the knife,” the student commanded, and the man indeed dropped the rusty knife to the ground, a metallic clang rang out in the darkness. “Now back away.” And so he did.

Tha man sputtered, not knowing what was happening to his body or why he was doing these things. His face turned a bright shade of red and he threw a dirty glare at Shinsou Hitoshi, hating him with every sense of the word for making him look this pathetic.

“Now stand still right there like the piece of shit you are. Move, and I will kill you,” he said calmly. Before turning to Y/N. “I’ll be right back with someone to help. I saw an officer go into the coffee shop across the street.”

When he left, she inched away from the man, watching as he couldn’t do more than just stand there and look completely bewildered. A mind control quirk definitely wasn’t something you see everyday. Plus, he probably was facing the realization that he would be arrested and sent to jail to get his ass kicked by quirk users there.

He came back with a couple officers and pointed out the situation, explaining what he saw when he came to the alley. They asked Y/N for a quick statement and she just reaffirmed what Shinsou had told them and added how she was walking home alone and he grabbed her when no one was looking. And so they took him away, thanking the kids for helping catch the guy, who apparently had tried to assault and rob other women in the area recently.

That was a close call, the closest one she’d ever encountered actually.

As they exited the alleyway, she felt sick to her stomach from what had happened, stress filling up her chest and threatening to burst out in the form of tears, only she composed herself the best she could to be strong. There really was no need to be strong. Shinsou was her friend. He was kind and brave and very intelligent, but most importantly he was kind to her. If she cried, he wouldn’t shame her. But she still felt the pressure to keep them from falling. “Shinsou-”

“I’m so glad I turned around to follow you. I swear, it’s almost like I knew something bad was going to happen, I just knew it,” he mumbled more to himself than her, really. He looked down at her finally, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress. She looked terribly shaken up, but no tears were falling. “Are you okay? Did that guy hurt you or anything?”

“No, nothing else happened,” she told him. “I-I can’t believe you came to save me. I’m so grateful, I don’t even know what to say. I felt so helpless back there without my quirk at disposal.”

“It’s okay. It’s over now, and you’re alright. That’s all I could really hope for.” He looked down the street and then back to her, flashing a weak grin. “You wouldn’t mind if I walked you home from here, would you?” he asked, to which she silently shook her head. So, he began walking and she followed very closely behind, so close that he could feel her arm brushing against his. He figured she was scared enough, a little bit of friendly comfort was going to help her out. She obviously didn’t want to speak, too shocked to say anything much.

After a minute or two of walking, he felt her hand slip its way sneakily into his own, tightly grabbing on as if he was going to yank it away from her. Although he could feel how shaky her hand was, it was so warm and soft against his cold and rough hands. Her fingers fit perfectly between his own. It was sappy of him to think, but jeez, it felt like those hands were meant to interlock. It just felt so fucking good.

He shoved down those selfish feelings. Y/N was just attacked, and he was thinking about how he felt. He shook his head subconsciously, knowing that he was being rude. She was holding his hand because she desperately needed to feel safe and comfortable, not because it necessarily felt nice. She would probably hold the hand of any random dude that saved her like that. Jesus, Shinsou, so dumb. Get a damn grip, you sap.

He squeezed her hand back reassuringly. He wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but he hoped he was helping.

Her house was relatively close to the spot she was grabbed, so it was a short walk. Part of him wished it had been longer so he could have spent more time with her hand held in his. As they stopped at her doorstep, she dropped his hand and went to grab the strap of her bookbag anxiously, eyes hidden from his view.

“Shinsou, thank you for stepping in back there. I really can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate that.”

With a wave of his hand absentmindedly, he brushed off her praise and thanks. “Don’t thank me. Anyone would have done the same, you know.” he didn’t feel like he deserves any thanks. He barely did shit back there except say a few words, and she was thanking him. Anyone would have done the same. He wasn’t special. He wouldn’t be special with the quirk he possessed.

But god, the way she looked at him in that way, adoration and admiration staring into his eyes, completely entranced with him; it made him feel invincible, like he was on top of the world for a lifetime. He would never forget the shine in her beautiful e/c eyes in that moment, he swore it. That was a memory he’d hate to lose.

“I-I know- It’s just that…well…” Her words trailed off into silence before he felt her reach up abruptly to wrap her arms around his shoulders, falling to rest against him. He caught his balance last second, not expecting that of all things. Her head rested snuggly in the meet of his shoulder and neck, hot breath tickling his skin there. He tensed at the sudden embrace, but nevertheless wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her closer. He could feel her shaking once again, and her rapid heartbeat pounded against his quickening one.

“Hitoshi,” she whispered, “You are my hero.”

Shivers ran down his spine at those simple five words, laced together by the most angelic voice he’d heard before.

That took his breath right from his lungs. He was her hero. A real hero. That was all he wanted in his life, to show people that he could be someone’s savior. The feeling of the one person he cared for more than anything saying those words to him. The feeling was unbelievable.

She pulled away after a silent moment, and waved to him gently, taking a step up to the entrance of her house. “I’ll see you on Monday, okay?” she said sheepishly, feeling something weird herself after that hug. Her skin felt all warm and gooey, like she was going to fall apart at any moment or her knees would collapse beneath her.

“Y/N, if you need anything, you know you can call me night or day, I don’t care,” he called after her. “I swear, anything for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Shinsou-kun.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye.”

“You’ll call me sometime, right? So I can make sure you’re feeling better?”

“If you want.”

“Of course.”

“Okay. I promise I’ll call.”

“Yeah, well, bye then.”

“Yeah, bye-bye.”

She shut the door finally, catching the eye of her brother immediately.

Katsuki stood in the living room of their home, sipping some soup with a spoon, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He raised a brow when she peered over at him, obviously having seen what happened outside through the front window. “What was that about, Y/N? Care to explain why that boy was all over you?”

“Shut up, Katsuki.”

He grunted, rolling his eyes at her reply. “Hey, I’m just worried for you. You can’t trust teenage boys. Take it from me since I am one. ”His voice was quite hoarse from the sore throat he had that morning, and he sounded like a frog whenever he spoke. How could she possibly take him seriously?

“He’s just my friend. You really don’t have to lecture me on anything,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sure, sure.”

She waved off how annoying he was, and walked down the hall to her room. When she shut the door behind her, she finally felt herself heat up with embarrassment. Shinsou Hitoshi held her hand the whole way home. He saved her like the glorious hero he always wanted to be. The feeling of relief she felt when she heard him enter the alleyway and call for her, it made her heart melt. She would definitely take up his offer and call him over the weekend, just to hear his soothing voice in her ear. Just hearing him, or even thinking about him made a smile grow on her cheeks.

She wasn’t sure what she felt for him. If it was simply a friendship or if her attachments were growing into something more.

Y/N just really, really liked him.

_____________

Part two coming later this week. Should it be angst or fluff? I’m torn

#bnha shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha oneshot #bnha imagines #mha imagine #mha oneshot #shinsou oneshot #shinsou hitoshi x you #reader insert #x reader

310 notes · View notes

thebirdandhersong · 3 years

Note

Hey, so I've basically never watched any k-dramas, but I've read a lot of manga and manhwa and the automatic next step does feel like moving into k-dramas. You seem to have watched a number, so I was wondering if you could make a recommended list? Only if you felt like it of course, but it would be helpful! (Preferably of at least some which are on netflix uk, I looked up 18 again but it's unfortunately not on here in Britain :(. But if you have favourites I'd just like to know them so I can look out for them anywhere)

Also yay! Your term's ended!

(yanks open the door) did someone say RECOMMENDATIONS?? I DO have many!!! Boy do I have them!!!!

(YAY!! One last exam and I'm done for the summer!)

I love Eastern entertainment (manga, k-dramas, c-dramas, and movies from Korea and Taiwan) because of several reasons: the scripts are phenomenal nine times out of ten; Asian culture puts a strong emphasis on the importance of family, personal responsibility, learning from one's mistakes, expressing affection through gestures and acts of service, and friendship and I really love seeing that in a story; and they make good use of silence and stillness in shows and movies, which is pretty rare in Hollywood. The quiet moments between characters are more often than not some of the most important in the story and I Love That!!

The dramas I'm (briefly) listing are in bold if they're available on Netflix UK, and in bold and italicised if they're available on Rakuten Viki (which is a mostly-free drama streaming service, though unfortunately they're rather heavy on the ads). The Absolute Favourites are marked with stars (***). Though I can't actually see the whole list of dramas available in the UK, so some of these may be wrong, and it may be worth checking twice!

If you're in the mood for something fast-paced:

Descendants of the Sun (Viki); considered a Classic

- romantic comedy, medical drama, a bit of action

- The confident and charming leader of a Special Forces unit meets a reserved surgeon and they hit it off, after some... interesting misunderstandings. But after dating briefly and breaking up, they find themselves reunited on a peacekeeping mission in a war-torn country. Insert a lot of Suspense and Excitement but also a lot of Comedy and Sincere Declarations of Love.

- if you enjoy Song Joongki's performance, I'd also recommend his movie A Werewolf Boy. If you enjoy Song Hye-kyo's performance, I'd recommend her drama Encounter.

***Come and Hug Me (Viki, but I don't know if it costs money?)

- thriller/suspense, romance, this one genuinely stressed me out but the moments of peace and reconciliation (and the ENDING) were well worth it

- Their first loves during their youth ends in her mother's death and their separation. Years later, the lively daughter of the murdered woman is now an actress, and the introverted son of the serial killer has become a police officer. They meet each other again (Of Course) and have to tackle all sorts of Nonsense (including the serial killer's return, his murderous brother's return from prison, the Media, the ghosts of their past, etc. etc.) together. HUGE focus on forgiveness, hope, healing, unconditional and self-sacrificial love. Also one of the best redemption arcs (I did in fact bawl my eyes out)

- my friend just started crying when we first watched this drama together because the male lead is just so gentle and tenderhearted and steadfast :')

If you're in the mood for something a bit slower

***Goblin/Guardian (Viki); International Acclaim

- fantasy, drama, one of the funniest dramas I've ever watched, but also tears (I cried at a rate of around once every two episodes. This show talks a lot about life and meaning and the effect your actions and words have on the people around you.)

- Kim Shin, a general from the Goryeo Dynasty, is cursed to live as an immortal Goblin (a Korean mythical/fairy tale figure) until his destined Bride pulls the sword from his chest, thus breaking the 'spell' and ending his life. He really did not expect his bride to be the vivacious and irrepressible Eun-tak, though, and What's More!! He did not expect that he would start wanting to live again :))) Includes a surprising amount of comedy, a surprising amount of tears, and EXCELLENT screenwriting. (Descendants and Goblin share the same brilliant writer.)

- fun fact: parts of it were shot in Quebec!! One of the characters refers to Canada as "the maple nation" early on in the story and my friend and I just burst into laughter.

***Encounter (Viki, but I'm not sure if it costs money?)

- melodrama, romantic comedy, FAIRY TALE

- a cold and withdrawn woman, recently divorced because of her husband's infidelity, and a warm-hearted and optimistic young man meet on the streets of Cuba by accident, and upon separating without means of contact, find themselves back in Korea as boss and newly hired employee. This sounds like a recipe for disaster: stuffed to the gills with unnecessary workplace drama and gossip, etc. but the story focuses instead on family, vulnerability, transformation, sacrifice, about art, compassion, mending relationships, opening up to people, and about the beauty in bringing and receiving comfort and love.

- also. ALSO. Fairy tale!!! with illustrated opening and ending cards and everything!!! (they literally refer to her as the Ice Princess. And her Prince is the human equivalent of sunshine. I Love him)

- if you like Park Bo-gum's performance, I'd recommend Reply 1988, too!

***One Spring Night

- melodrama; quiet and understated but very beautiful

- A bright, clever, and sharp-tongued librarian meets a quiet, steady, and gentle pharmacist one day. It turns out that he's a single father, and she's trapped in a relationship that really isn't working out. Friendship! Family! Sisters standing up for each other and saying No I Won't Let You Treat My Sister Like This, You Jerk! Figuring things out! Learning how to love! I really don't know what else to say, except for the fact that I loved it very much!!

- if you enjoy Jung Hae-in's performance, I'd also recommend Something in the Rain (which should also be on Netflix!) for his acting alone. I just think he's neat.

Reply 1988

- slice-of-life, comedy

- In the late 1980s, five friends (four boys, one girl) who have grown up with each other since childhood are Going Through It in high school. This drama is all about the little things that happen in life, and about learning to understand your family and your friends. Deok-sun is just trying to survive all of This as the middle child, and as a young girl who is trying to figure this Romance thing out. In the present, adult Deok-sun is just as lively, and is now happily married..... but to whom? :))) A Lot of '80s Asian culture, daily antics, and good old friendship.

- if you like Park Bo-gum's performance, I'd recommend Encounter too :)

18 Again (Viki)

- romantic comedy, fantasy/time travel (sort of)

- Nearly twenty years of marriage, and things have been going Wrong all over the place. His wife wants a divorce, he's no longer close to his teenaged kids, and he's just lost the job he's been faithfully working at for years. Daeyoung wishes that he could go back somehow, and finds himself 18 once again.... except he's still in the present. Interesting things ensue. He enrolls in school (it turns out to be the same one his kids attend), and decides to pursue the dreams he had to give up when he was a teenager. Antics ensue! But also Healing: he gets to know his kids all over again, and is able to view his relationships with Dajung (whom he still loves. Of course) and his estranged father in a new light.

- I have not finished this drama yet but judging from the first third of it, it is both well-written and well-acted. There are a few things that I am not a fan of, but on the whole Lee Dohyun's performance is wonderful and I have already cried buckets.

Other honourable mentions:

100 Days My Prince: historical drama. Prince caught in an assassination plot, loses his memory, wakes up in a village right when the king issues a marriage law that results in his marrying the spirited 'spinster'.

Still 17/Thirty But Seventeen: 17 year old violin prodigy in a coma after an accident, wakes up when she's 30; the boy who inadvertently caused the accident runs into her again after she wakes up and helps her adjust to her new life. Lots of wacky humour, very sweet!!

#as per usual this is horrendously long #but i hope that this is helpful!!#k-dramas in the past have had some pretty questionable male leads #as in: the aggressively alpha male lead who thinks kindergarten bullying is a form of flirting #and i am very Not Here for that #so my favourite dramas tend to have Oak/Tilney/Wentworth-style male leads #ALSO!! storytelling in Eastern media takes a different approach than Western media #so it is so interesting to me to watch dramas like Goblin and 18 Again that take a pretty unconventional approach #songbird again

18 notes · View notes

thesculptedflower · 4 years

Text

Sweet dreams and strawberries

Hello! Can you do a platonic Jim Gordon imagine where Jim is always trying to catch this street kid (probably like 15-17 years old) but never manages to do so and the street kid has started to break into his apartment to step food and one day he catches her in the apartment? (kinda like he caught Selina in 1x14) thank you!

Sweet dreams and strawberries

Your teeth were clattering quietly as you ran swiftly on the rooftops of Gotham. You knew how to get around up there, almost better than you did on the ground. Being above everyone else, away from prying and pitying eyes, gave some sense of security. You and your little brother were abandoned by your parents when you were just little, forcing you out on the streets, begging for food and a place to stay. Ever since your parents left, you felt like you had to hold the world on your shoulders, to keep you and your brother safe and fed. And you did what ever you had to do.

Your clothes were clinging to your body and the rain just kept on getting stronger. The wind was much colder up on the roofs, but you had no other choice. This place you were headed at, was a goldmine. You had been breaking in to this penthouse for weeks now. The owners seemed to be extremely busy and rarely spent any time at home. You didn’t know much about them, just that they were a young couple, just moved here. You couldn’t help but think what kind of person would even want to move to Gotham. Most of the people you knew, wanted desperately out of there. You and your brother included.

The familiar balcony of the penthouse got your feet moving a lot faster. You could almost feel the warmth of the apartment. Carefully and soundlessly you hopped down and hid next to the wall, making sure that the apartment was empty. All the lights were out and the place seemed empty, so you tried the handle. Open, again.

’’These people never learn.’’ You muttered to yourself. The door on the balcony was almost never locked, which made these food-runs so much easier. Sometimes you felt bad for the couple who lived there, but every time you got back to your brother and saw the smile on his face, you knew you were only doing what you really had to do. You always tried to take stuff that wouldn’t be that noticeable, few fruits from the bowl, cans of soda, slices of bread and cheese for example.

You stepped in and closed the door quietly behind you. The warmth felt so comforting after such an icy trip. Something glowing caught your eye, and you noticed that he fireplace had few embers still trying to stay alight. You hurried over and picked up few logs and placed them gently over the embers, careful not to suffocate them. Slowly but surely the logs started crackling, bright red flames taking over. You let out a small laughter, happy and relieved to feel the warmth on your face.

You took off your jacket and shoes, laying them down near to the fireplace, so they would dry at least a little. Luckily, your shirt was still somewhat dry, but your pants were soaked. You shimmied out of them and laid them down next to the other clothes. The couches were filled with decorative pillows and blankets, so you picked up one that looked the comfiest and wrapped it around yourself.

The growling in your stomach pulled your thoughts away from the fire. You grabbed your backpack, flicked on one light and started to search the kitchen. The fruit bowl was once again filled with different kind of fruits, so you took few and arranged them again so that the bowl looked full. You filled your water bottles and gathered a nice amount of items that would last you for a week. You even found some chocolate. You smiled at the thought of your brother’s face when he’d see that you brought back chocolate, his favorite. Everything looked fine and the kitchen seemed like no-one had touched anything. As you took a final look in the fridge, you noticed a bowl of fresh strawberries. They had been your favorite when you were younger, but you hadn’t had them in years. Strawberries were expensive because they didn’t grow in Gotham, and your brother was allergic, so there was no point. But now, you were alone on a food-run, in an empty apartment, and no one could stop you. ’’This is probably going to come back and bite me in the future but I really don’t care right now.’’ You talked to yourself, picking up the bowl and walking back to the living room. You tossed another log into the fire before sitting down on the couch and popping one of the red berries into your mouth.

The taste brought back memories of summer, when everything was alright. The glow from the fireplace felt like the sun on your face. You pulled the blanket around you tighter and ate another one. In this moment, you felt safe. You only wished you could bring your brother here. You knew he was okay, you two had a great hideout on one of the roofs that wasn’t cold or wet, but you still hoped that someday, you would have a real house again. Real beds, real pillows and blankets, real roof above your heads. You could feel your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, you felt so unbelievably tired. And in a short moment, you fell asleep.

You had so strong sleep deprivation, that you didn’t wake up when the front door opened. The dreams you were having, had a strong hold on you, and you weren’t sure you even wanted to wake up yet. Somewhere in your head you knew that you should, but against your own judgement, you decided to drift deeper. After what felt like days, you started to wake up to a sound of heated but whispered argument.

’’Jim you have no idea who that person is!’’

’’She’s just a child, and I’ve seen her many times near our apartment. I think she’s a friend of Selina’s.’’

’’Well isn’t that just great, so she’s a criminal too.’’

’’Barbara, please..’’

The loud slam of the door definitely pulled you from your slumber. You jumped up from the couch, trying to pick up all your clothes as quickly as possible. You needed to get out.

’’Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to be scared of me.’’ The man you supposed was Jim said calmly, taking a few steps towards you, but staying back enough not to frighten you. You must have looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to hold all your stuff.

’’What’s your name?’’ He asked.

You took a few moments to decide whether you should be honest with him. You tried to search his face and demeanor for malice, but found none.

’’Y/N.’’ You answered carefully.

’’Hey Y/N, I’m detective Jim Gordon, and I’m-.’’

The mention of him being a detective got you nervous again, your eyes trying to find a way out of the apartment. Jim could see the horror in your face.

’’Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m not going to take you anywhere or do anything to you. I just want to help.’’ He said after realizing how scared you still were. He took a step back as to show you he had no ill intentions.

’’Can I just go? My brother needs me.’’ You said hurriedly, trying to get out of the situation. Jim looked at you and then picked up your backpack that was still open. You let out a sad sigh, fearing that you had just lost all the food you so desperately needed.

’’We can go together and bring him here.’’ Jim said suddenly, a gentle smile on his lips. He picked up the backpack and closed it. You were confused and scared. Did he want to bring your brother here to get you both at the same time so he could give you to the system? Did he want to arrest you? Or did he truly want to help?

’’I’ve seen you around the building, and every now and then, our food cabinets seem a little different that how we have left them.”

You could feel yourself blushing a little. He had known for a while now. But still he hadn’t locked the door to the balcony.

’’You’ve had a few rough weeks haven’t you?’’ He asked.

And he was right. You had been running on fumes for the last few days, trying to find something better to eat for the both of you. Getting to Jim’s apartment last night was like a safe haven for you. You felt calm and safe, and you finally managed to get a good few hours of sleep that you desperately needed. And now you had a chance to offer the same to your brother.

’’Do you promise you won’t give us to the child services?’’ You asked demanding. If this was your only hope for a better life for you and especially to your little brother, you were ready to take it.

’’Yes, I promise.’’ Jim answered, holding out your backpack to you. ’’Get dressed and we can go get him.’’

He was new to Gotham, and in your heart you could feel that he was one of the good ones.

#Gotham #gotham series #gotham fanfic #gotham imagine #jim gordon #jim gordon x reader #Jim gordon x y/n #James gordon

60 notes · View notes

sagemoderocklee · 4 years

Note

Hello! For the meta asks, would you do 1, 5, 8, and 17?

you did not come to play, lilac! thanks for all these questions! <3

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

oh lord. that’s a... question. i have. so many current projects, i don’t even know where to start. this is gonna be long so please bear with me lol i’ll probably give more detail for some fics over others, and i’ll only go over fics I’ve got documents for because otherwise we’d be here forever.

The Art of Love: so this one is obvious because it’s been in progress for the last 2ish years? no i think it’s three now. I won’t go into detail with this because the fic is roughly halfway through, so there’s plenty of content for that up! I’d say the progress with that fic is actually going really well, though. Unlike Alliance, which took 8 years--five years of writing, three of editing--TAoL has been up for way less time, and is already about to hit the halfway mark! I really need to get back to it, tbh because it’s been way too long since my last update.

Honor Bound (sequel to Alliance): so this is.... kind of on pause. I’ve got the first three chapters written, but my focus has been more on TAoL when it comes to my more complicated, long running stories, so HB has taken a backseat. I think I won’t get back to working on the Allied Nations Saga until after TAoL is done, in all honesty.

Find Me: this is my HS AU, which has been on the back burner forever and I feel terrible because I think it may honestly be my most popular fic. Unfortunately, AUs/slice of life stuff is difficult for me because I’m more interested in politics, so I lost momentum on this fic. It is about halfway done. I have a good chunk of chapter six written, but not enough that I could say I’m close to finishing it.

It Eats Your Heart: obviously I just started this one, and it’s a horror fic. I’ve really gotta sit down and do some major plotting on it because I only have some very vague ideas currently.

Pearl-Filled Lungs: this is one of like three ningyo AUs I have--the other are pirate/ningyo AUs (and ones actually a selkie not a ningyo). I started it last year for the GaaLee fest, and it’s been sitting unfinished for far too long. I finally sat down recently and plotted the whole thing out, so I’m hoping to get back to working on it soon! It’s only 5 chapters in total, so I don’t think it’ll take me super long to get through once I sit down and do it.

Who Dares to Love Forever: This is a working title, and I may change it. This is a fic idea I’ve had for a couple years, inspired by the song Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen. This particular fic is a vehicle for my sage mode!rock lee headcanon, and explores just how effective Chiyo giving Gaara her life would have been given she was an old biddy. So the idea for this fic is that Gaara’s running out of time because Chiyo only had so much to offer.

Absolution: this is another fic that I’ve had on the back burner for years. it was initially inspired by art by @brianadoesotherjunk but quickly spiraled into something much bigger because of course it did. This particular fic is one I’m extremely excited about. I need to go back over the first part, because I feel like it’s not quite right, but I do technically have the first part done. This fic follows Gaara struggling with bouts of narcolepsy that trigger nightmares induced by trauma and guilt from his childhood. These nightmares are incredibly dangerous for obvious reasons, but even more so because Temari’s baby is on the way. Temari and Shikamaru are married, living in the Kazekage estate, and with their baby coming and both needing/wanting to get back to work, they also need a nanny. Unbeknownst to Gaara, the year prior to the events of the fic, Maito Gai died, succumbing to the 8th Gate finally, and Lee has since been spiraling. His depression has become so self-destructive that he’s been taken off active duty. Shikamaru, along with the rest of the Konoha 12 (minus Neji and Sasuke), get together and discuss what to do. Tenten believes that Lee being a nanny would be the perfect thing. And so Rock Lee is sent to Suna, hired by Shikamaru and Temari as their live-in nanny...

We Need Not Be Yellow Tulips in a Garden of Gardenia’s, Yet We Go the Way of the Red Camellia: true to form, I decided that a hanahaki fic was something I had to do, and I was not going to pass up the chance at being as Extra As Possible with the flowery language, ergo the ridiculous title. I’ve gotten part way through the first chapter of this fic, but the whole thing is roughly plotted out and each chapter title is just as extra as the whole fic’s title.

Thirteen Strokes: so this is a fic I have--once again--had on my mind for ages, and--once again, because I am nothing if not a caricature of myself--inspired by a Florence+the Machine song, All This and Heaven Too. I started writing this the other night, as I wanna use it for GaaLee bingo. It’ll be 13 chapters, as per the 13 strokes that it takes to make the character for love, ai, in Japanese. The fic is from Gaara’s PoV, and follows his journey with and his relationship to love, with lots of worldbuilding and politics because it wouldn’t be an Eeri Original without those things.

Scarification: this is another idea for bingo based around the prompt shinshoubyou, which is a fictional disease where your emotions cause physical marks on you

Fill in the [ ]: another bingo idea, based around the prompt bouaishoukoigun, the fictional disease where you forget the person you love if it’s unrequited.

The Eagle’s Augury: an idea that allows me to play around with more worldbuilding and focus on Karura. In this fic, the curse (mentioned briefly on the Naruto wikia) that has led to every single Kazekage being assassinated, is coming for Gaara, and Karura is trying to warn him from beyond the grave. At the same time, Temari and Shikamaru’s marriage is approaching, and their ceremony is being held in Suna, with all the fan fair a marriage for someone from the Kazekage line should see. Again, another fic inspired by Miss Florence+the Machine, the song is Mother

Pomegranate Sun: this is a fic that I am... so excited about. Another fic that was originally inspired by a Queen song, Under Pressure, and has of course taken on a life of its own. This fic, I am actually going to be writing with @ghoste-catte! It’s an arranged marriage trope, and I’m super pumped for it! We’ve only got a little bit started, and it has obviously not taken priority for either of us since we both have a lot of fics on our plates.

The Ballad of the Dragon and the Phoenix: this is a fic I’m really excited but is going to take a LOT of research to get off the ground. I had this idea sometime last year, I wanna say? This fic is another self-indulgent headcanon about Lee’s origins, his family, etc. This fic starts when Gaara shows up on Lee’s doorstep, asking him to accompany him to another country for reasons Lee cannot understand. Gaara has been in talks with Phoenix Kingdom, hoping to forge a new relationship only to find that the Emperor wants to use shinobi for militaristic purposes. Lee doesn’t understand what help he could possibly offer the Kazekage, but he can’t very well turn him down.

okay, i’m gonna stop there. these are the ones I have titles and documents for, and honestly that’s probably way more than you wanted to know about lol

5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

Despite the fact that most of my fics end up from Gaara’s PoV, I actually identify with Lee the most!

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

Yes! Which is hard to find, tbh, because I am a sucker for political dramas with slow burn romances, but I don’t see a lot of that in the GaaLee fandom. I’m not as into like slice of life or short stories where the characters get together quick, I’m really not into established relationship fics unless it’s a sequel, so I tend to avoid those. I like AUs but it really depends on the AU, because I ultimately prefer the canon and I love seeing the way people write the shinobi world and all its rules and cultures and things. I’m just a big fan of worldbuilding, politics, and slow slow burns. Not this 25k SLOW BURN! crap because that is NOT a slow burn. I wanna see a fic that’s 200k words in and they still haven’t even figured out they’re in love! I like stories I can really sink my teeth into, ya know?

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

Oh gosh. I generally don’t think too much about it except like hoping people don’t think I’m like a stuck up asshole because of how I talk about my writing, writing in general, my hcs, etc. I mean, obviously I don’t expect everyone in this fandom to like me--and there are ppl I’ve gone out of my way to be vocally against because they do nasty shit--but largely I feel like I come across as too intense, so even the general population of GaaLee fans that I do want to interact with I’m always a lil nervous that people secretly don’t like me and basically are like “oh god this bitch again” when they see me in the tags. But I just get really excited and invested in my ideas, and honestly for the longest time this fandom was SO small and there weren’t a lot of people putting out content regularly so it was like a handful of us so I think it made me more emphatic about GaaLee lol I think I always like assume people aren’t as excited about my writing as I am or that people are like “too much politic, i need more romance”.

I’m always surprised when people really love my AUs, like Kado or Find Me have had such fantastic reception, and it’s like people just eat that shit up so much. And then I look at like Alliance or Art of Love and get kind of confused because I think by comparison those are more interesting and more developed than my AUs. I put a shit ton of work into everything I write, especially anything that requires research, so it’s not to say that I do less work per say, just that I feel like TAoL and things like it are more interesting and more developed, and the relationship feels.... somehow more to me there than in an AU.

a lot of my motivation really just comes from the lack of content this fandom had for so many years, and the fact that Naruto could have been a much more interesting series and I love worldbuilding so much. I think my motivation for each fic is different though. Like Alliance was started because I wanted to write something different from what was mainly in the fandom at the time because mind you I started that in 2010. But my motivation for TAoL is more wanting to tell a beautiful story with a complex narrative that looks at the failings of the shinobi world. Whereas like any slice of life fic is really just meant to be a fun break. And sometimes I write something literally just because I wanted to fulfill that trope for the GaaLee fandom--again, a lot of my ideas have been sitting for years and years and years (TAoL was an idea I had literally right after starting Alliance, but I didn’t get to it until 2017), so a lot of ideas that are old are because at the time that trope hadn’t been fulfilled yet in the fandom though that’s changing a lot with the recent GaaLee Renaissance of the last couple years.

7 notes · View notes

shirtlesssammy · 4 years

Text

15x05: Proverbs 17:3

Then:

I’m not crying, you’re crying!

Now:

(weeping in corner ---this is Steve Yockey’s last episode)

Black Forest, Colorado

Three young women on a Pinterest inspired LL Bean photoshoot getaway, toast to friendship and good times. Now that they’re done with college, two of them have found jobs and are on their way to subverting the new world order of underemployment. Ashley, the other friend, will be driving for Uber.

They all hear a noise outside the tent. Julie goes for more rum and gets yanked. The other one tries closing the tent but is also yanked. Cue Ashley’s screams!

At the bunker, Sam checks his messages to Cas. He’s been texting and texting but hasn’t heard anything back. I am emotional. Dean is going to bury that shit and not even tell his brother what happened? ARGH. Sam hides his phone pretty quick so it’s obvious that he knows something isn’t right --and he doesn’t needle his brother about it so he knows something REALLY isn’t right.

Dean’s back from a supply run and is back on his overcompensating with food bullshit. He eats a ghost pepper jerky bite and instantly regrets it. On the plus side, we get this:

Anyway, they’ve got a case.

*Dream Vision Alert*

Lucifer!Sam sits at a table in the bunker. Dean approaches from behind, draws the Colt, asks for forgiveness, and shoots Sam in the back of the head. Lucifer!Sam doesn’t die though. The wound heals and his eyes glow red. Lucifer!Sam scoffs at the idea that the Colt would kill him, adding, “we both knew it had to end this way.” Then fire consumes Dean.

Sam wakes in the Impala. Dean wants to know what’s up but Sam will only admit to a bad dream.

They reach Colorado and instead of their usual routine, Dean pulls out some old school tricks: Fish and Wildlife agents. They were babies! (But this is also just such a nice way to show HOW MUCH Sam and Dean have changed over the years. The story Chuck was telling in season one has changed so much --they are not the same anymore. And while Dean continues to repress his current issues (ala Cas), it’s clear that he’s not the same.)

They go in and talk with the sheriff.

(Also, this is yet another week using an actor that has been in a previous episode of Supernatural. I realize this does happen, but this actress played Tara, the hunter that helped Dean and Crowley find Cain and the First Blade--and the Mark of Cain.)

The sheriff doesn’t think these attacks are animal in nature. There’s one witness they can talk to. They head to the hospital to talk with her. They ask what she remembers. She flashes back to the forest. She’s running and a man/monster is chasing her. She’s reluctant to talk, but Dean assures her that they’ve heard it all. The man that killed her friends had claws and fangs. A werewolf. Dean tells the poor girl that monsters and werewolves are all real.

Dean gets a name. Sam points out that it wasn’t a full moon the night Ashley was attacked (Dean suggests pureblood), and Sam sets off to find an address.

They head to a cabin in the woods where Andy, the werewolf, lives with his brother, Josh. They’re isolated, reluctant to have visitors, don’t have a phone. Just as God intended. Sam and Dean leave.

Josh yells at Andy for not killing Ashley. I’m just loling all over the place. This melodramatic crazy is TOO much. Family of werewolves that hunt people. Their dad’s dead but it’s the family business. Reluctant younger brother...

The brothers check in at the Sleepy Bear Inn. (Have we mentioned HOW MUCH WE LOVE JERRY WANEK? It’s true!)

They’ve got Ashley under their protection. They need to go take care of “the lumberjack twins.” Sam wonders why this whole case seems too easy. Lololol. Ashley asks the brothers to stay with her until she falls asleep. Meanwhile, Andy and Josh are outside the motel ready to kill her.

Dean and Ashley talk about hunting. Dean says he likes his job --helping people. She asks if he ever wanted to be anything else: Jimi Hendrix. He says that so quickly. It breaks me a bit. But then he toes the company line. Ashley wondering how great life would be if it was all planned out. That makes Dean turn a little green. Poor bby.

Sam wakes Sleeping Beauty - I mean, Dean. He zonked out while Sam headed out to get food and while he was sleeping, Ashley disappeared.

Cut to Ashley who is astonishingly NOT DEAD YET. She’s tied up in a bloody slaughter room, though. The two werewolf bros burst in, mid argument. “This isn’t who we are,” Andy protests, his pure white, tucked-in sweater standing out sharply against the ACTUAL BLOOD SPATTERED WALL. (Like, seriously, guys. Get a cleaning service, at least. That can’t be sanitary.)

“This is exactly who we are,” Josh growls. Hoooo-boy.

Dean and Sam race back to the cabin and quickly follow Ashley’s screams to the slaughter room. Their approach causes the werewolves to scamper, but not very far. As they attempt to escape, the Winchesters and Ashley get ambushed in the main room. The two werewolves get the upper hand on Dean and Sam, and the werewolf with a taste for human flesh closes in on Dean, snarling. Andy picks up Dean’s dropped gun and points it at Sam. He stares between Sam and Josh in agony.

Andy shoots and kills his brother. “He turned into a monster,” Andy explains tearfully. “And I’m a monster too.” He turns the gun on himself, killing himself with one quick shot to the heart. (Jeez, always the heart in this season. It’s almost like it’s an important metaphor or something.)

“That was weird,” Dean says which is like a total UNDERSTATEMENT… But that doesn’t even come close to what happens next. Dean tries to comfort Ashley, who pushes away and…

…trips and falls right onto the antlers. BOOM. Ashley’s dead. Sam, Dean, and pretty much every single one of us viewers stares at Ashley’s body in shock and confusion. That’s…not…normal. Also, this episode is only half over. WTF?

“Well, this is a bitch,” Ashley grumbles, opening her eyes and standing up, still impaled. She cheerfully flashes her eyes white at Sam. She’s LILITH, baby!

Lilith has clearly never made friends with the phrase “Loose lips sink ships” because she spills E V E R Y T H I N G. Chuck pulled her out of the Empty (where she was dead as a demon doornail), gave her instructions to seduce Dean post-rescue, told her to show Sam and Dean the werewolf murder/sacrifice mirror, and sent her to retrieve the magic gun: Ye Olde Equalizer.

The Winchesters try to fight Lilith, but she blasts them into the walls, knocking Sam out. Dean promises Lilith the gun as long as Sam’s okay. Same old song and dance, my friends. But now we get the feeling that Dean’s SEEING THE SCRIPT even while he’s still feeling utterly trapped by it.

Sam has another vision while he’s power healing through his latest concussion. This time, Dean’s out to kill a human Sam. Dean, under the influence of the Mark of Cain, murders his brother with the first blade. When Sam wakes, the cabin is empty.

In the Impala, Lilith is sitting about two feet away from the equalizer gun - still hidden in the glove box- and amusedly answers Dean’s questions. She’s massively irked that she’s back on Earth as part of Chuck’s latest story…when the story she THOUGHT her death was integral to was foiled by the Winchesters. It’s adding insult to injury, man. “Wouldn’t it be great if everything was just planned out for you?” she repeats and then laughs right in Dean’s face. Chuck fed her that line directly.

Lilith chirpily comments on Chuck’s storytelling propensity and his hamfisted werewolf brother foreshadowing. “It always ends the same,” she tells Dean. “One brother killing the other.”

Back at the motel, I am still UTTERLY DAMN CHARMED at the Wanek crew’s amazing work on this room.

For Please Come Decorate My House Science:

Dean tells Lilith that she’ll NEVER get the gun and she starts to slice him bit by bit. It’s the death of a thousand cuts!

Sam breaks in and shoots Lilith in the forehead without another word. He traps her in place with a devil’s trap bullet. “I’ve got you now, my pretty!” Sam should have shouted (but didn’t). What he does do is threaten to kill her. Lilith gets pissed at this. Like, EXCUSE HER VERY MUCH, but she’s a total badass who LET Sam kill her back in season four. Don’t mess with her!

The Winchesters flee but don’t even make it past the parking lot. Lilith zaps out to meet them. Where’s the gun??? She reasons it out, and concludes that the gun is clearly in the Impala. (Clears throat… The most important car in the universe!?) Lilith finds the equalizer pretty much right away and laughs at how damn easy it was. Which...yeah.

“We’ll get it back,” Sam snarls and without further ado, Lilith melts the heck out of the gun. Now it’s just a cooling black pool against the asphalt. Oooooookay. Plan...X?

Back at the bunker, the boys fortify themselves with liquor. Sam leaves ANOTHER voicemail for Cas. (Pardon me while I take a short break to weep and rend my clothing.) “We gave him the head’s up on Chuck and Lilith,” Dean says. “What else are we supposed to do?” Oh, I don’t know. Probably apologize? Tell him you love him and value him as a person. That sort of thing.

Dean’s pretty shattered at the revelation that Chuck’s still pulling their strings. Thanks to Lilith, he understands that Chuck wants an ending where one of them kills the other. Sam immediately ties this into the dreams he’s been having. “You’re just telling me this, NOW?” Dean asks. And…I think that reaction is justified. Sam speculates that his equalizer wound is showing him Chuck’s endings and MAYBE a slice of Chuck’s mind.

“This was supposed to be over,” Dean says in response. “Are we just gonna keep running in this friggin’ hamster wheel until we die? Or we get boring and he ends us?” I’m laughing at the direct commentary on how TV shows live and die but also...DEAN BBY.

Sam thinks they can fight. Dean wants to know how the hell they’re supposed to FIGHT GOD.

______________________________

Goldilocks and the Three Quotes:

Poor, faithful Dean. We both knew it had to end this way

I’ll Freud you

Whatever you’re about to say, I want you to know that we’ve heard worse. We’ve heard weirder

I don’t lie to you. I look out for you

That’s not how this story goes

Oh, you would promise a girl the moon, Dean Winchester

Of the three potential vessels, Ashley had the best hair

God? He is not exactly Shakespeare. He’s more of a low rent Dean Koontz

Be a good boy and show me that BIG GUN, huh?

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn 15x05 #proverbs 17:3 #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural season 15

79 notes · View notes

thewritewolf · 4 years

Text

Eating Habits Chapter 4: The Calm

Adrien has relaxing morning before going out into town with an old friend. Marinette overworks herself.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3. My ko-fi.

Adrien stretched out, the pleasantly warm beams of the morning sun bringing an unconscious smile to his face. While he’d always been a morning person, his childhood schedule often had him getting up well before the sun, never getting to enjoy the first rays of dawn. That wasn’t something he intended to take for granted any time soon.

The sunlight seeped into his bones and warmed his heart as he rolled out of bed, taking extra care to avoid disturbing Plagg as he lay sprawled on his back on Adrien’s pillow. He tucked his feet into a pair of cute black slippers Marinette had made. Their floppy cat ears and green googly eyes never failed to put him in a good mood. Or in this case, an even better mood.

His morning routine went by in a serene blur. He crooned love songs in the shower. Took a little extra time messing with his hair. Danced while he dug through his closet for an outfit to wear today. He gently picked up his still-sleeping kwami and tucked him into his shirt pocket. Today was going to be a great day, he already knew it. As he stepped into his kitchen, it felt like nothing could ruin his good mood.

Except perhaps for the appearance of an envelope on his countertop.

His smile quickly melted from his face as he recognized the familiar handwriting. He vaguely remembered bringing it in yesterday after a long shift at the bakery. Wednesdays were always pretty busy for some reason or another. His fingers traced the edge of the envelope. Deciding that he’d better get it over with, he carefully and methodically opened it and pulled out the letter.

Before he could subject himself to reading the thing, there was a loud knock at his door that nearly had him drop it in surprise. He cracked open the door, which was all the invitation Chloe needed to strut inside. She lowered her sunglasses as she peered around his apartment and sniffed dismissively.

“A little quaint, but better than that damn cavern you grew up in.”

“Good morning to you too, Chlo.” He shook his head.

“Oh, lighten up, Adrikins. It’s a lovely place. Maybe not the Grand Paris, but...” They exchanged cheek kisses. She raised an eyebrow at the letter he was holding, snatching it from his hand. There was a teasing lilt to her voice as she said, “Oh? What’s this? Love letters, maybe? You’re certainly enough of a romantic to insist on something as ancient as these.” Her eyes narrowed as she skimmed. “I see.” She crumpled it up and threw it into the garbage.

“Hey! I hadn’t-”

“Trust me. He didn’t have anything of value to say, the rotten bastard.” She clapped her hands together and gave him a gleaming smile. “Now! Are you ready to start our day out, Adrikins?”

Feeling a little miffed at her brashness, Adrien played dumb. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve got a girlfriend, you know.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and so do I.” She crossed her arms. “I’m here to hang out with my friend, you ridiculous boy. I’d hope you’d at least remember that much, since this was your plan.” She walked towards the door. “Let’s get moving, I’m not going to be in Paris forever.”

He chuckled as he followed her out. Adrien usually preferred taking the stairs, but unsurprisingly Chloe lead him into the elevator.

To fill the silence, Adrien asked, “Girlfriend, huh? So you and Kagami are back together again? Or is it someone I don’t know about?”

“Like anyone else could handle me, Adrikins.” She snorted, a faint smile on her lips. “You and Marinette becoming a thing turned out to be a blessing in disguise. If that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have found Kagami tearing up in the girls’ locker room.”

“Should I say it just like that when I give a speech at your inevitable wedding?”

“Maybe. Two girls brought together when their mutual beard got taken away from them. A classic love story.”

The two of them shared a laugh and just like that, it was like old times again. The conversation, mostly gentle barbs and jabs traded between them, carried on through their walk through several shops. Naturally, with Chloe present they had to stop at a few boutiques to update her wardrobe. Several years in New York with her mother had left her fashion decidedly American rather than French. After a few hours of shopping and a brief stop for lunch, they arrived at the main focus of their excursion.

Adrien’s cooking class. He’d made the arrangements to join the class after he had gotten back from Marinette’s earlier that week. It was just good fortune that placed Chloe in town just as he was about to go into his first class.

“So… why the sudden interest in cooking, Adrikins?” Chloe asked as she tied her apron strings behind her.

“...It’s a useful skill to have. I love cooking.”

“Ah, you’re being sneaky. Got it.”

They were quiet for a few minutes as they listened with the rest of the class to the instructor. With the wide smile the teacher wore as she looked into each of their faces, Adrien could already feel his nerves relaxing. This wasn’t like the instructors he’d been provided as a child, always seeking flaws and failings. He reassured himself that he was going to a good time.

While they were in the middle of preparing the sauce, Adrien asked, “So… New York. Missing it already?”

Chloe paused. She sighed. “Not as much as I was missing Paris.”

“Really?” Adrien frowned. “I guess it’s easier to meet up with Kagami if you don’t have to take a flight every time you want to date, but…”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Chloe waved her hand impatiently. “It’s just… it’s been hard, you know? Trying to be a better person. For you. For Kagami. For all my friends. And it hasn’t been any easier spending all that time with mom.”

Adrien winced. It wasn’t hard to believe - Audrey was about as awful as they came, outside of supervillain circles. “Does that have anything to do with this visit? And why you and Kagami just got back together?”

“...Yeah. I was thinking… maybe this didn’t just have to be a visit.”

“You want to move back to Paris?” Adrien failed to keep the shock out of his voice. “You were so excited for New York, though.”

“It’s alright, but it’s not home.” Chloe sighed. “You know?”

He thought about the bakery and all the happy memories he’d made there. All the patrols that had devolved into late night cuddles on the Eiffel Tower. Games of tag across the rooftops of Paris. Deep conversations held in the towers of Notre Dame. The city was his home; he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be away from it for so long.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I get what you mean completely.”

The conversation petered out as they turned their focus towards finishing the class. A few more details slipped past, though - while she would be living there for a while, she wouldn’t be moving back to the Grand Paris Hotel. She wouldn’t be moving in with Kagami either. After having her mother’s assistants breathing down her neck for a few years, some time to herself was just what she needed. Taking things slow never came easily to Chloe, but she was trying her best this time.

Once class finished, they said their goodbyes. Adrien headed back to his apartment having recaptured some of that positivity that he’d woken up with. It was still early in the afternoon by the time he’d gotten home, on a day he didn’t work, but his usual means of passing the time wouldn’t be getting out of class for a few more hours. As he puzzled out what he’d do until then, his stomach growled. That dish he’d made in class smelled wonderful…

A few plates of homemade lasagna and a few movies later, and the sun was beginning to set. He’d had a beautifully unproductive day, which was just what he needed.

“Well, look at you,” Plagg said with a grin, slowly eating through his own plate of lasagna. “Finally get some time off to yourself and what do you do with it?” He took a huge bite, devouring the last of his slice. “Absolutely nothing!” He sniffed, as if holding back tears. “I’m so proud!”

With a faint smile, Adrien replied, “Coming from anyone else, I’d think you were being sarcastic. But thanks, Plagg.” He set his plate on the table and Plagg pounced on it, devouring the remainder of it. “Its relaxing not to be led by the nose across Paris. Always glancing at my phone to make sure I’m on time. Always doing something, never a moment of downtime.”

Plagg’s ears twitched and he tilted his head at Adrien. “You’re stressing out, aren’t you?”

“Was it that obvious?” Adrien deflated a little. “It just… it feels wrong. Not doing anything for a whole day.”

“Get used to it, young man. We spent all that time getting your task masters to put down that whip, I’m not about to let you pick it up yourself.” He floated up to Adrien’s face. “But hey! Don’t worry, you’ve got the king of naps and relaxation here to teach you everything you need to know, kid!”

Adrien smiled and rolled his eyes. “Sure, Plagg. I’ll defer to your expertise in this.”

“I’m glad-”

“Your much greater, wider breadth of experience.”

“Yes, thank-”

“Your unbelievably vast knowledge of the lazy arts.”

“I prefer the ‘way of ultimate relaxing’.”

Adrien chuckled and scratched Plagg between the ears with one finger. “I’m sure you do, little guy. Although, now that you’ve mentioned taking it easy…” Adrien pulled out his phone and scrolled down to the contact, ‘Mari’, surrounded by cutesy emojis. The phone began to ring…

-------------

Marinette’s eyes were burning from how long she’d kept them open today. Little sleep last night and it was looking like little sleep again tonight. But she needed to get this dress ready in time for the critique next week. No matter what she did, though, she couldn’t enter the right state of mind to just zone out and let the art flow through her. It came as a welcome relief when her phone rang. She even let out an affectionate sigh when she saw who it was that was calling her.

“Hey, kitty. What’s up?” She stood up, taking this break as an excuse to stretch her legs a little.

“Nothing much. Spent the day hanging out with Chloe while she was in town.”

“Chloe, huh?” Marinette had mixed feelings about Chloe, but it had definitely improved after they all rallied together for Adrien’s sake. She’d been beyond helpful during that terrible month, but it was only one step toward making amends for the years and years of torment.

“I know, I know. But she’s been doing good. That time in America really helped her. Or, at least, it helped her decide what she didn’t want to be.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “You say that like she’s done living in the States.”

“From what she was saying, it sounds like she is. Don’t worry, I won’t try to get you two to get along. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Glad to know I can still teach cats new tricks,” she said teasingly. “But if that’s the case, then you probably didn’t call me to chat about that. What’s on your mind, hot stuff?” She stretched out on the couch. “Knowing you, I’m sure it's something romantic or something ridiculous. Probably both.”

“You know me so well, bugaboo.” His laugh came through, clear as a summer sky. “Well, we’re getting pretty close to our six year anniversary…”

“Six years…” Marinette whispered in awe. “Doesn’t feel nearly that long, but at the same time feels like our entire lives.”

“I understand completely. Hard to imagine a time before we were together, love bug.”

“Still, we’re a little under three months away from it. What did you want to talk about?” There was a silence on the other end. “...Adrien. You weren’t thinking of making plans already were you?”

Silence. “...No.”

Marinette laughed. “Sunshine, you’re ridiculous.”

“Mhm. And, if I were planning our anniversary date, which classy restaurant would you like to go to?”

“Do we really need to go somewhere?” Marinette asked as she sat up on the couch, elbows on her knees. Tikki glanced over her cookie at Marinette, tilting her head in a silent question. “What about just staying home and cuddling? Movies and junk food and a big, warm blanket?”

“Hm…”

“What?”

“Just trying to decide if that is ‘Marinette the exhausted student’ or ‘Marinette who hates the cold’ talking here.”

“It’s ‘Marinette who just wants to spend quality time alone with her boyfriend’, actually.” Tikki snickered silently and returned to eating her cookie.

“ I love spending time with you, but you also refuse to let me spoil you except on special occasions. What’s more special than our anniversary?”

“I’m just saying, I’ll probably be exhausted with finals and want to just stay in by that point.”

“Speaking of which,” Adrien said as he blatantly changed the subject, “how have you been doing on sleep?”

Marinette bit her lower lip as she debated whether or not she should downplay just how little sleep she’d been getting. Before she could respond, she heard Adrien sigh.

“That bad, huh? Listen, can you do me a favor?”

Always willing to help out others, Marinette replied without thinking, “Of course!”

“Go to bed early tonight.”

“But-”

“I know you probably have things to do, and I know you think you absolutely have to get them done tonight. But I promise, you don’t. And we both know the quality will be better anyway if you can get in the zone and not fall asleep halfway through.”

She pouted in silence. There wasn’t anything she could really argue - he’d got her pegged there. A downside to him knowing her so well.

“Mari? I need you to promise me you’ll go to bed early tonight. Please?”

She finally broke down. “Okay, okay. I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Marinette stood up to run her hand over her latest piece while Adrien continued talking. “So how has this week been going? Anything new to tell?”

As Marinette began to fill him in on what she’d been going over in her classes, she resumed work on her dress. If she was going to live up to this promise, she’d need to get plenty of work done right now. No matter how exhausted she was.

----------------

It was a couple hours after Adrien had gotten off the phone with Marinette, getting close to midnight. Normally, he knew that Marinette was as good as her word. She’d bend over backwards if it meant fulfilling all her obligations to people.

Unfortunately, she often didn’t take herself into consideration there.

Adrien trusted Marinette. He’d trusted her with his life more times than he cared to remember. But even so, he didn’t hold out hope for how well his little loophole worked out. Getting her to take care of herself and painting it as a personal favor was a little sneaky of him, but if it worked then it would be worth it.

“Sorry, Plagg.”

His kwami looked up from where he was laying, caught in a kwami-sized food coma. “Wha-?”

“Claws out!”

A flash of green light later and he was crawling out his window. Soon enough his feet were on the rooftops, the crisp autumn air in his lungs as he ran across the city. Less than ten minutes later, he was crawling into another window. As his boots hit the ground, Marinette jolted from where she was standing over her project.

She whipped around, eyes wide. “Adrien!” She tried to put herself between her and the dress. Given how small the love of his life was, it didn’t do anything to conceal what she’d been up to just moments before. “I can explain, I promise!”

He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Um…” She wrung her hands and visibly struggled to come up with anything before hunching over in defeat. “Okay, it’s exactly what it looks like. I just need to finish this piece before I go to bed.” She moved as if to turn around. A small smile tugged at his lips as he caught her wrist.

“Mari, it’s time for bed,” he said gently.

“I’m not tired,” she replied while trying to stifle a yawn.

“I’m sure you aren’t.” He pulled her towards himself and swept her off her feet.

She immediately melted into his arms, leaning her head against his chest as he carried her. Even so, she blearily looked up at him and pouted.

“Hey! I need to finish my…” She yawned again and made a motion with her hand as she tried to think of the right word, “...thing.”

“Your ‘thing’ will be waiting for you when you’re awake and perky tomorrow.” He entered her bedroom and set her down in her bed. He tucked her in and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Good night, lovebug.”

He tried to walk away, but she snatched his hand. “Stay with me? Until I fall asleep, at least.” She stretched as she got comfortable. “It’ll be a while though. Since I’m not tired.”

Fighting down a smile, he laid down on the sheets next to her. Immediately she draped an arm over him and rested her ear against his heart. She sighed in contentment as he began purring.

They chatted for a little while, but contrary to Marinette’s blatant lies, she was exhausted. Hardly a few minutes had passed before she was soundly asleep and he was able to slip away. As much as he’d love to spend the night here, her bed was too small for the both of them. Prying himself away, he rushed back home.

After he dropped his transformation and Plagg floated away grumbling, Adrien started getting ready for bed himself. He settled into his too large bed and opened his phone as he waited for exhaustion to hit. Which is when he noticed that Alya was active on discord. Remembering his brush with her in the halls of Marinette’s apartment a few days ago, he sent her a message.

------------------

Direct message from Adrien

Adrien: You awake?

Alya: The truth never sleeps, blondie

Alya: Although... The truth IS feeling a little tired though

Adrien: lol, that’s fine I was about to head to bed myself Sorry to bother you

Alya: Nah, that’s fine Get back here centerfold What’d you want to talk about?

Adrien: Well… Marinette

Alya: Our favorite topic, lol I take it this is about how she’s running herself ragged?

Adrien: Yeah We’ve seen it before A lot I’m just worried Like always

Alya: I hear you I’d love to say homegirl can handle herself but Shes great at taking care of everyone BUT herself Which is where we come in

Adrien: Glad we’re on the same page So what’s the plan?

Alya: Well You know how she gets If we don’t pay attention she’ll end up starving herself Too focused on what shes doing to care about How SHE is doing

Adrien: yeah I had to go over and put her to bed myself today

Alya: Lol sounds aobut right Between the two of us we can watch out for her She’ll need lots of extra tlc But I’m sure you don’t mind that, huh lover boy?

Adrien: You caught me I love my girlfriend to pieces And this is a good excuse to dote on her

Alya: Attaboy I’ll do my part too

Adrien: Thanks, Alya

Alya: Don’t sweat it, blondie Just do right by my girl and we’ll be square

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #Marichat #Chloe Bourgeois #Chloegami #Tikki #Alya #ml fanfiction #my writing #Eating Habits #The Lucky One series

29 notes · View notes

velvetinewitch · 4 years

Text

wips list

this functions as a key to all of my wips, including ones i don’t actively write but still work on occasionally. in case you didn’t know, all of my wips include: poc, LGBT+ characters, disabled and non-neurotypical characters, found families, usually fantasy elements because i love magic, and often a little romance (which is usually accompanied by found families or tragedy, but for my romance-repulsed friends, there are still stories with no romance!)

key: *: heavily connected stories >: stories taking place after the events of Faye and Fate (a very distant future)

Closest to Complete (in order... ish)

Painted Cards: a group of teenagers end up criminals after a magical goddess chooses them for greatness. instead of embarking on some epic adventure, they decide to save the world another way: through kindness and coffee. a story about a found family made up of unintentional criminals with trauma that they’ll learn to cope with. mostly written for myself, but also written for the people in my life who needed to see characters like them have a happy ending. a very hopeful, fantasy slice-of-life story.

*Faye and Fate: almost everything i write is exposition or a result of this 5 book series. Aralion Faye resets the timeline so often it all just blurs together. with each new on she creates, she watches the ones she loves die over and over again, as if it’s all a video game culminating up to that game over screen. things always start out so innocently, too; her memories never return until later, so for a while, she enjoys attending a magic school, falling in love, playing pranks, befriending her peers. by the end of the year, the world comes back to remind her that her happy ending is unachievable. between traitors, corruption, fires, and cliffs... this time has to be different. this time she’ll save everyone she loves. is overall a story about heroes of all types. love this series so much abhddvk. magic is based on skills/interests: art, writing, engineering, astronomy, directing, zoology, architecture, makeup art, etc

*Mortals Versus Morals: (this isn’t actually the title but it makes me laugh so it’s being used as the placeholder) Glen is 17, rich, sheltered, and possibly the most lawful good person ever. plot twist- there’s a prophecy predicting his (as well as 6 others’) involvement in the end of the world, and they aren’t on the good side. Glen struggles to balance saving the world from villains while trying not to become a villain himself. includes: road trips and bonding, scenes like the one where the aro-ace friend gets seduced by a nine-tailed fox who runs a Burger King, everyone educating Glen on cultures and respecting pronouns :) as well as the occasional choking angst that comes with a bunch of almost adults getting dragged into the business of gods. did i mention there are gods? there are gods. i do kill a love interest of a protag but then give them TWO romantic partners because i’m not a coward (i feel like the characters who lose a love interest end up in a poly relationship most often in my stories... as a sort of apology to them lmao). also Utah? basically stops existing at some point. magic is based off a deity someone worships, with worship comes borrowed magic. the characters themselves are basically just omnists?

Beneath Our Skin: Sam and Ana don’t know each other. it’s by chance that they’re separated from their class during a field trip, and end of wandering straight into a portal to another world, one with magic. while searching for a way home, they accidentally make their own- in the meantime, they’re gonna find a magician who can give Sam a shapeshifting spell because Sam would really like to transition, even if it’s through magical means, please. written for me and my fake-brother, so lots of being platonically domestic and also sarcastic... this is in a really poetic writing style too.

House of Crabs: this is not the name it just makes me giggle so placeholder time! contemporary, no romance or fantasy or anything (although like one crime is committed but life is life that). here’s the old summary: Siera lives in the mansion of thirty year old Janelle, a woman who has the tendency to take in stray children, granting them shelter despite their tragic backstories or strange personalities. When one of the outcasts, Roy, is confronted by his biological brother, Roy is absolutely horrified by the concept of being dragged back to his transphobic family. The outcasts are dead set on protecting him, even if it requires breaking laws. But Roy's brother doesn't seem that content on harming Roy or bringing him home against his will. Instead, the boy seems more interested in coming out of the closet, hoping that his little brother and his new family can help him learn how to be his true flamboyant self.

>Obligatory Superhero Stories (3 stories): ----Lei is supposedly a civilian, until she arrests the man who ruined her life and accidentally ends up adopting his daughter, Hera. Hera coerces her into adopting her classmate Jason. the two get kidnapped. Lei gets annoyed by how useless she is in saving them, and becomes the first non-mutant superhero. in the meanwhile, the US Secretary of Powers, Victoria, is forced to monitor her progress for a court case deciding whether this is legal, and accidentally falls in love. Hera fucks with journalists and enjoys being politically smarter, Jason attempts to create a ground-breaking technology and blows up hundreds of phones, and Victoria never sleeps. literally. her superpower is just,,, no sleeping. ----Vessa becomes a superhero by accident. it involves art galleries, snow, and unlicensed doctors. now, she operates under an alias, the hero Froze (very creative, yes), alongside her trusted sidekicks. unbeknownst to Vessa, she has a history with the villain she’s fighting, and their teams may be more entangled outside of their aliases than first believed. basically, an enemies to family (and some lovers) story, involving a lot of morally grey shenanigans thanks to a corrupt society. ----there’s a villain on the lose, know as Heart-twist, with the ability to take someone’s darker emotions and intensify them. in reality, Sora is just a teenage girl, with four dear and near friends. it’s been a year since her sister’s boyfriend, a hero, prioritized glorious battle over rescue, and her sister died alone and afraid. Sora is just waiting to make him fall in love with her, so she can repay the favor.

>Paint Me a Picture: dystopian future! roughly 78% of the population is monochromatic, and can only see in shades of grey. it seems petty in plain sight, but jealousy has left the other 22% segregated, separated by a boundary and sinking in poverty. Pristaline is apart of the majority, privileged without even realizing it- her biggest concern is making herself a future in law. a car accident leaves her in a recover home near the boundary, where she accidentally meets Jackson, a color-seeing boy, who calls her eyes ‘blue.’ the encounter sparks a revolution. this is a sadder story- it ends with a girl, watercolor swatches, and a grave.

*Run From Wolves: Elayna is unfortunate enough to be a magic-born in the one kingdom that still prosecutes female magic-borns (to which she says, fuck their religion for saying women shouldn’t have magic). when she and her half-brother Shage are discovered, instead of being executed, Elayna is offered a position beside her brother in the kingdoms prestigious Goddess Guard. the offer comes with a price: they must swear allegiance to the king, and can do him no harm. luckily, a pretty spy from a neighboring kingdom offers Elayna a loophole. includes spirit animals, political intrigue, lesbians, murdering an asshole king, and a secret mystery involving immortality and wolves.

*Twin Kingdoms: there’s an island floating in the sky- two, now, split in half down the center. Melony and Serena have known about the conflict between their kingdoms, but they never really realized it’s intensity until Melony’s older brother close friend betrayed her and seized the throne for himself, pitting her kingdom against Serena’s and searching for war. Melony and Serena are able to escape together, living in disguise and biding their time before they can retake what belongs to them. has a really fun character who’s a villain (she’s the traitor brother’s little sister), gets stuck with an injury, is healed by a girl in an enemy village, and struggles to reaffirm her beliefs while vaguely falling in love. sighhhhhh i miss this series

*Where Shadows Bloom: written during the time of my life where i loved badass assassins becoming queens or princess... despite the trope being looked down upon, i hold this dear to my heart. basically, there’s a period of turmoil throughout the entire planet. on one end of the world, the queen is assassinated by a girl aiming to use her throne to destroy her noble parents, an underground group seeks to end slavery through magical battles and underhanded deals, and an orphan boy is made king. on the other side of the world, a second world war rages, pitting the Gold Alliance (good guys) against the Silver Alliance (bad guys). a princess goes undercover, venturing into a captured kingdom to spy on opposing forces. she’s taken in by an engineer/pilot who helps her stay in disguise as she uncovers the nefarious plot that involves the prosecution of an entire people. it all ties in together.

*Fateless: i really can’t get enough of magic and princesses, huh. ever wonder what Arthurian mythology would be like if it was in my world? Raine’s family has known tragedy after tragedy, from the death of her uncle, then aunt, her brother, and finally, her parents. fate has left her alive to inherit their throne when she comes of age. still, even she is cursed, wearing a ring that burns her with the pain of her people. she doesn’t wince anymore, not even when she watches another witch burn at the stake, and feels the flames crawl up her body, phantom but so, so real. when her kingdom falls, Raine and her most trusted knights are forced to flee into the woods. there, they find a tavern alongside a their road, run by a mysterious woman named Lancelin. there’s something familiar about the woman, something from Raine’s past, and something strange about the way that each of her customers leaves with healed minds and bodies. secretly-enemies to secretly-lovers! as common with me...

#my wips #navigation #long post #faf #faye and fate #painted cards

8 notes · View notes

moistwithgender · 5 years

Text

Monthly Media Roundup (April 2019)

April was a bit of a disaster month for me, and as such I didn’t get much of anything finished. Old wounds got reopened, I was sick all month, I had an unavoidably bad birthday, and a lifelong pet died. I didn’t engage with a lot of things, and mostly slept. I did play a lot of Breath of the Wild, but seeing as I didn’t finish that, I’m not including it yet. Here’s the things I did finish:

Games:

Blaster Master Zero (Switch): I actually first bought and finished this two years ago, and since the sequel has come out I decided to replay it with the Shovel Knight DLC character. While I genuinely like this game (I 100%’d it both times), I was not really in a good spot to enjoy this playthrough, and just kinda mindlessly pushed through it for nine consecutive hours, beating it in that single sitting. Playing as a DLC character removes the story, which is fine since they’re intended for replays, though I wonder if it added to my emotional disconnect. SK doesn’t receive fall damage, and so the precariousness of navigating the world outside of the highly-mobile tank doesn’t exist nearly as much, though the trade-off is that SK’s combat abilities in dungeons are hindered by an overall lack of range. The game is still rather easy, though, so I can’t say any particular level cadences or combat scenarios carved their way into my memory.

To the game’s credit, though, the things that are good about it are still good. If you have an attachment to the original NES game, or an interest in retro properties, or just want a nice, breezy platformer, it’s very good. It’s interesting in how it repurposes the altered plot of the US version of the original game (where it was its most popular), including even the plot of the little novelization that came out because Gotta Get Those Video Game Kids to Read Something. It has a fake out ending, and if you 100% the maps it unlocks a final map that is genuinely surreal enough to be the highlight of the game. Despite my sighing, it is a genuinely good time, and I’m very curious to play the new game, somewhat hilariously titled Blaster Master Zero 2.

Anime:

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime: I chewed through the last four episodes of this so that I could say I finally finished the season. I didn’t watch the post-season recap episode. TenSura (the abbreviation of the Japanese title, which I will use to refer to it because satisfyingly abbreviating the english title is impossible) is not a very good show, but for about half the length of the 24-episode first season, it fascinates due to how it functions at all. TenSura is an isekai show, much like the other isekai shows, where a person dissatisfied with their life is brutally murdered (usually by a truck. USUALLY by a truck) and is reborn in a fantasy world that coincidentally gives them an absurd advantage over other people, allowing them to live out all the decadence they felt they deserved in the real world. If this sounds like the most boring kind of wish fulfillment possible to you, that’s because it is. It’s also extremely popular with consumers. Which is interesting! I think the isekai boom is indicative of how late-stage capitalism everyday people the world over, that we envision or escape to worlds where your efforts actually return appropriate reward. A bonkers concept, to be sure.

In TenSura, the formula doesn’t stray much. The main character is a man in his 30s (?) who has never fucked and gets knifed to death while HEROICALLY saving a coworker from a plot-irrelevant stabber dude who was running down the sidewalk with his knife out for no reason besides Main Character Needs an Inciting Incident Now. It’s actually pretty weirdly violent for the start to a show that is almost entirely light-hearted. Dude dies, his coworker dumps his hard drive in the bath out of respect (lol), and he wakes up in a fantasy world that works on videogame logic, including loot, skill trees, and class upgrades. He is reborn as an adorable slime a la Dragon Quest, but the personality traits he had in his previous life (and I guess his choice of dying words) scan to obscenely convenient passive abilities that ensure he’s not only invincible, but will never stop experiencing exponential power growth. Also he immediately makes friends with a final boss-level dragon and then eats him. That’s how he makes friends in this sometimes.

I’m being very cynical here, but the core narrative loop (and it IS a loop) of the series kept my interest for longer than I expected. Rimuru (the name of the reborn protagonist) goes somewhere he hasn’t been, astonishes the nearby (sometimes violent) inhabitants with his overpowered abilities, makes friends with them, and then improves their lives with community. Goblins, direwolves, orcs, demon lords. It stacks and builds upon itself to absurd degrees but it’s interesting that in a genre loaded with very problematic stories of disenchanted dudes finally getting the underage harem they’ve always wanted (aaaaAAAAAAAAA) that the main concept of this series is improving the lives of others and giving them closure for the ways life has hurt them. Even if. Sometimes that hurt was the main character’s doing? Like Rimuru absolutely decapitates a direwolf leader and then adopts the pack who from then on absolutely LOVE the dude. Also one of Rimuru’s abilities is that if he gives a monster a name, it class upgrades, which is generally and reasonably seen as a life improvement. Though, these class upgrades are almost always decidedly “less-tribal” or outright human, which smacks of some imperialist thinking. It’s also something I’m sure I never questioned in old videogames growing up. Meanwhile, there’s also a bit with a woman who came from Japan during that one really bad war, you know the one, and the closure she’s given as she’s dying is handled with actual delicacy. It’s a weird series! It’s only a shame to me that after most of the first season, there was less to talk about. Sometime after the halfway mark, you realize the show is never going to maintain tension for more than half an episode, that all problems are solvable (yes, even terminally ill children), and that the show isn’t going anywhere you can’t predict. It’s a checklist show, and the plot points are a list of achievements being checked off one episode at a time.

I don’t think I would actually recommend the show to most people, despite how popular it is. It’s not a great show, but it does weird enough things for a while that it generates conversations. Which is honestly pretty okay. It’s a pretty okay show. Also, Rimuru is effectively nonbinary (with he pronouns), and that’s… somethin’! (24 episodes, finished 4/17/19, Crunchyroll (Funimation also now has the dub I think? Clips I saw were pretty weird, Rimuru seemed to be characterized differently.))

Manga:

Nejimaki Kagyu Vol 1: You would think a manga that immediately starts with a reference to Phantom Blood would be, well, at least interesting.

Okay maybe invoking a beloved work doesn’t actually mean anything. I just wanted to share this blatant callback. Nejimaki Kagyu is a seinen manga about a highschool teacher whose tragically cursed to, uh, have all teenage girls fall in love with him. And the highschool-age childhood friend of his who has spent her whole life obsessed with him and learning super martial arts to defend his chastity. Her supers make her clothes explode.

…

I take no joy in this travesty.

Anyway, uh. The biggest tragedy here is that the art is actually really good, though the paneling is regularly squished around to hilarious degree. Let’s look at some pages and then forget this manga exists forever.

That horror face is how I feel the entire series should be portraying itself. The manga has a distinct lack of self-awareness.

The fan translation for this series appears to have dropped off halfway through and hasn’t been picked up for years, and based on reviews I saw on MAL talking about the directionlessness of the later volumes, I wonder if the translator got fed up with the series. Oh well!

Kyou no Asuka Show Vol 1: Oh god damn it I just got done with talking about a series about ogling the youth.

BLEASE STOP

Okay so. Kyou no Asuka Show, or “Today’s Asuka Show” is an older slice of life manga by the same author I mentioned previously who is doing an edutainment series about people working in a condom factory. Innocently-minded women in comedically lewdish situations appears to be his whole bag. I think Asuka is pretty charming, but I also know she’s designed to appeal to my monkey male gaze. Obliviously sexy is very much a mood, and in a more adult context I would be all for it. There have been a few chapters where I find myself at odds with the wisdom the author is attempting to impart, sometimes through Asuka’s father, who works as an adult photographer, and doesn’t want his daughter involved in anything that could cause her to be ogled. Like, that’s already something that requires a lot of unpacking in the modern day. Aforementioned wisdom sometimes takes the form of Asuka doing something stupid and innocent and ripe for objectifying, like wearing a school swimsuit in a rainstorm. Or she’ll work a job as a cute girl courier and inadvertently turn a shut-ins life around. Situations where, if it were in real life, I’d think “wow that’s weird and charming,” but by being a work of intentional authorship, it inherently loses some of that innocence, and becomes something well-meaning but problematic. Is that the second time I’ve used the word “problematic” in this post? Is this 2014?

I may continue reading this, but I really can’t recommend it to most people I know in 2019 without several disclaimers and also without probably getting some side eye. I think it’s worth a couple chapters to feel out what its doing before you decide whether you can siphon the charm from it, or would rather move on to something else.

Me enjoying myself when this manga tries to suddenly get up to some shit.

Blue Period Vol 1: This is the last thing on my list, because I don’t want to expand this list beyond the three mediums I’ve already assigned to it. Also, I actually finished this May 1st, but I wanted to talk about it now.

If I had the power to actually get people to engage with a specific work once per month, Blue Period would easily be the one I pick. That doesn’t mean as much when all the other things I finished this month were conflicted experiences, but I really think everyone would benefit from this series. Or at least anyone with even a passing interest in visual arts.

Blue Period (named for Picasso’s Blue Period) is about a highschool delinquent who has a knack for studying, a safe social life, and no interests in pretty much anything. He’s on the road to do fine in his life, and he doesn’t question it much, but that’s it, until he discovers art and realizes it’s the only way he’s ever been able to truly communicate his feelings. It changes everything about him, for more emotionally satisfying reasons, but also riskier ones. He only has one year of highschool to go to decide what he’s doing with his life, and Japan has a very strict education system. You’re not really allowed to just “get around” to things.

Apologies in advance if you’re tired of me spamming full pages but I really do wanna show this off. This is another series with an educational angle to it, though the emphasis is definitely more rooted in a personal narrative of growth. The explanations of art practice and the functionality of exercises and tools are both very informative and relevant to the characters, never feeling like the story is taking a backseat to explain. The characters are, hilariously, everyone I’ve ever met in an art class. There’s the kid who would rather exclusively draw the things they like, there’s the kid who likes art as a hobby but haaaates being given a project, etc etc. There are students who have an innate grasp on how to draw but haven’t internalized the Why of the exercises, and students who are receptive to the lessons but don’t have the ability to match. The narrative is extremely even-handed towards all of these different levels of skills, and places a lot more importance on why, emotionally, you should totally care about drawing apples and water pitchers for five hours at a time. It’s GREAT and I want to force it on every creative I’ve ever known.

Another thing I appreciate about this series so far is that while there has been something resembling sexual/romantic tension, it’s kind of not like that at all? In the first volume I haven’t been able to pinpoint where a potential relationship subplot would go, if at all. Two possibilities are this girl:

...who is a very likable character but surprisingly doesn’t fit into that box of “standard love interest”. The protag’s interactions with her have been exclusively respectful and admiring, which doesn’t even necessarily imply a romantic subplot, but would be pretty cool if it did? And the other girl:

...who is featured in decidedly more sexual tension-y contexts, is actually TRANS. The manga actually portrays them so uncompromisingly feminine that I didn’t realize they were crossdressing (the term used in the text) until the author’s notes at the end of the volume. I will partially blame this on me being out of it this month, since I just went back to their introduction and yep, they got misgendered and contested it. Given how the character is regularly framed (confident, attractive, skilled, nonstereotypical), I’m… pretty okay with this! If a romance blooms between a delinquent boy and a trans girl, that’s amazing.

I hope y’all understand where I’m coming from in expecting a shoehorned romantic subplot. I’m not hoping for one, I just know the product by now. And if it happens, the options are considerably more interesting than usual.

These are pretty good kids.

Manga licensing is a lot better nowadays than it ever was before, with lots of obscure series being picked up, old series getting re-localized, and translations being better than ever. I really really want this series to get licensed so someone can be compensated for it, and so more people might read it. Until then, I think you should look up the fan work.

---

So that’s all for April. If these posts included live-action movies, I’d have talked about Endgame, but I also don’t want to go spoiling anything for someone who still wants to go see that (it’s probably one of my favorite MCU movies, though). I read most of 1970-71 in Marvel comics, or at least most of the issues on my reading list, but I semi-liveblog about those, so you can just search my “curry reads comics” tag for that. Here’s hoping I have more interesting, more positive things to say about May in a month. I expect to finish Breath of the Wild by then, so I’ll finally talk about that. Thanks for reading, if you made it this far! Go check out Blue Period.

#curry reads manga #curry watches anime #curry plays games

6 notes · View notes

omdaily10 · 5 years

Text

RIGHT PLACE RIGHT TIME

Album: Third

Writers/Producers: Claude Kelly, Steve Robson, Chuck Harmony, Ed Drewett, Steve Kipner, Lucas Secon, Wayne Hector, Andrew Frampton, FutureCut, Iyiola Babalola, Darren Lewis, Jim Eliot, Iain James, Julian Bunetta, John Ryan, Carsten Mortensen, Adam Argyle, Martin Brammer, Matt Prime

Release Date: 26/11/2012 (Original) / 25/11/2013 (Reissue)

Chart Positions: #1 (UK), #1 (Scotland), #3 (Ireland), #5 (Austria), #6 (Switzerland), #14 (Sweden), #17 (Canada), #19 (US), #19 (Denmark), #20 (Australia), #22 (Germany), #27 (New Zealand), #32 (Japan), #38 (Finland)

Sales: 1.38m (UK, 4x Platinum), 100k (Germany, Gold), 15k (Ireland, Platinum), 35k (Australia, Gold), 10k (Austria, Gold)

It goes without saying that ‘Right Place Right Time’ is unquestionably Olly’s best album to date – certainly the one that fans cite as their favourite to this day. The 1.38m copies it shifted in the UK alone might explain that one away, but it doesn’t tell the full story of why he is still to this day the only male solo graduate of The X Factor to better the sales of each of his subsequent albums. However, just as with its lead single, Olly’s third album in as many years had a bit of a shaky start. At least, to its US release it did.

The plan from Colombia had initially been to release an American version of the ‘In Case You Didn’t Know’ album (proposed artwork here), which would have been a 50/50 split of songs from his first two albums, in early September 2012. The flop of the US remix of ‘Heart Skips A Beat’ quickly put paid to those plans – and just as well really, for by the time that idea was put on the backburner, he had a new studio album ready to go that could be released across all markets. Naturally, however, his home turf would be the first to get the album.

Knowing full well that this was an album with an eye on launching Olly internationally, the feel of the music was reflected in the choice of producers in order to appeal to as broad an audience as possible. On his down days in between the One Direction tour in the States, Olly hooked up with Claude Kelly in New York to write with his collaborative Stateside partner Chuck Harmony, collectively known under their performing moniker of R&B/soul outfit Louis York. Out of those sessions came several songs for the album: ‘Loud & Clear’ and ‘Head To Toe’: one, a sweeping, lighters aloft torch ballad that called to mind ‘X&Y’ era Coldplay, and the other a toe tapping swingathon with a jaunty piano line and a set of counting in verses.

Columbia also granted him access to two of their star boyband’s chief writers for the record, in the shape of LA based Julian Bunetta and John Ryan, who turned in possibly the most perfectly Olly song that’s ever existed on an album of his before or since. Little wonder then, that ‘What A Buzz’ was written especially with him in mind, a shuffly slice of kitchen sink breakbeat pop calling to mind Norman Cook (aka Fatboy Slim)’s remix of Cornershop’s 1998 chart topper ‘Brimful Of Asha’. It’s suitably cheeky Essex lilt about first date nerves was added courtesy of lyrics from Ed Drewett, a much in demand singer and songwriter from just over the border of Essex in Bishop’s Stortford, who had turned in two number one hits for The Wanted and duetted with Professor Green on his 2010 single ‘Need You Tonight’. The pair quickly became good friends and have continued to write together on subsequent albums of his.

Whilst it is less pronounced on this record, Olly was evolving and shifting sound again, this time, to corner the same funk laden pop avenue populated by Jamiroquai, M People and Maroon 5. The sound of the former is particularly prevalent on both ‘Troublemaker’ and on ‘Hey You Beautiful’, a four to the floor come-hither belter that proved a fan favourite after Olly’s performance of it over the suspended catwalk section of his supporting arena tour around the UK and Ireland for the album in the spring of 2013.

That tour was also a first, as on several of the numbers, Olly got to showcase his skills on the guitar and piano that he’d been painstakingly practicing away at in the year since the last tour. It was the latter that got an airing for his performance of this album’s closing track – a simple but stripped back piano number called ‘One Of These Days’. It trod the same path as ‘I Need You Now’ on the last album, but also took a slight leaning towards the sound of modern country and adult contemporary radio.

The album’s original release was accompanied by a deluxe edition, on which were four additional tracks (plus a small change in colour on the artwork’s font from black to dark red). This would be the first album of Olly’s to come out on two separate formats. Adam Argyle and Martin Brammer are once again behind three of the four songs on the deluxe version, best of all being the soaring midtempo piano pop stormer ‘Sliding Doors’, a conversational track about dreaming of life with someone else in another moment that was inspired by the Gwyneth Paltrow film from 1998 of the same name. The closing track, ‘The One’, was another of his collaborations with Ed Drewett, which Olly also played guitar on, and is a rousing number, almost evocative of a poppier ‘Tender’ by Blur, about offering support to a friend in a dark place.

Critical consensus was divided between applauding and denigrating his approach of going forward by advancing the same sound that had carried him through two multi-platinum albums already. But it was seemingly missing the point either way. As Lewis Corner, reviewing the album for entertainment website Digital Spy wrote, “it may not be a big departure from Murs’ previous efforts, but when you're on to a good thing, why change the pace?” With this still being the biggest studio release of his career by far, Olly’s third album definitely was a case of being in the right place at the right time.

RIGHT PLACE RIGHT TIME: SPECIAL EDITION

When viewed retrospectively, 2013 was truly the year when Olly went global, with tour dates and promotional commitments expanding not only to Europe, but also to America, Australia and even Asia by year’s end – not to mention his successful stint supporting his ‘showbiz brother’ and former X Factor duet partner Robbie Williams on every single UK and European date of his ‘Take The Crown’ stadium tour that summer (the two would also record a rousing cover of ‘I Wanna Be Like You’ from the Disney adaptation of The Jungle Book for Williams’ second swing album ‘Swings Both Ways’).

This did however, create a small problem, in so far as all this hive of activity meant there was no time to record a new studio album for the end of the year, as had been the case in the last three years. Thankfully, Sony saw a little more mileage in the campaign for ‘Right Place Right Time’ to keep Olly active and present until he had his next album in the can, hence its repackaging and reissue with all new artwork almost a year after its original release.

The original twelve tracks on the album remained, and joining them were several tracks that had been recorded during the album sessions (some even earlier than that) but which for one reason or another hadn’t made the final cut first time round. It meant we got to hear ‘Stop Tryna Change Me’, a gentle paced toe tapper Olly co-wrote with Claude and Chuck which again, had a slight feel of country pop.

First demoed for ‘In Case You Didn’t Know’, ‘That’s Alright With Me’ was another jaunty post-Britpop offering from Samuel Preston and Mark Taylor, the sort of guitar flecked number you could see spilling forth from the mouths of The Kooks or Preston’s old band The Ordinary Boys. A stripped back seasonal take on Wizzard’s festive evergreen ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday’, recorded back in December the previous year for BBC Radio 1’s popular ‘Live Lounge’ slot on Fearne Cotton’s mid-morning show follows and is a heart-warming delight.

Rounding out the new tracks were collaborations with two European pop chanteuses, both done to try and break Olly into their respective territories. It means that he turns up on ‘Did I Lose You’, a hypnotic, wistful track that you could’ve imagined playing over the opening credits of a Bond movie, for Italy’s Giorgia, whilst his own ‘Dear Darlin’ was given a Gallic reimagining by popular French star Alizée, who had scaled the UK top 10 in 2002 with her Europop thumper ‘Moi...Lolita’. Olly performed this version with Alizée at the Parisian date of his European tour that autumn whilst she was taking part in the French version of Strictly Come Dancing.

But the special edition didn’t end there. Footage of the first O2 show in London on Easter weekend from the spring arena tour that year had been filmed and broadcast live via Olly’s Facebook page, and it was quickly decided, after much demand from fans, to release it on an accompanying DVD, marking the first time that a live show of Olly’s had had a home video release. It was undoubtedly a large factor in helping the album to return to the top end of the album chart a year on from its debut, as well as being amongst the top 5 biggest selling albums of the year in the UK for two years running.

#Olly Murs #Olly Murs Daily #2012 #OM Daily #omdaily10 #10th Anniversary #reviews #Right Place Right Time #Third Album #Retrospective #Special Edition #Deluxe Edition

4 notes · View notes

quicksilversquared · 6 years

Text

How to Fake a Marriage Ch. 22

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

(AO3) (FF.net)

Adrien was looking forward to a quiet evening of leftovers, cuddling with his girlfriend, and maybe a movie as he came home from work on Tuesday. It had been a long day- the brothers that had fought the previous day were still being frosty towards each other, and it made the entire workplace not quite as welcoming as usual- and Adrien was just glad it was over.

He stepped into his apartment and was greeted by the sight of his table draped in a gorgeous scarlet tablecloth and set for two, a vase of roses in the middle and candles set on either side of the flowers. A lovely smell came from the kitchen.

Adrien stepped inside, eyes wide. The light in the living room was dimmed slightly, and it gave the entire setting a romantic feel. A movement caught his eye, and Adrien turned in time to see Tikki flitting around, lighting small candles set around the tidied room.

Okay, a really romantic feel. Smiling, Adrien shut the door fully behind him. Tikki finally noticed him and abandoned her candle-lighting job to fly over. "Adrien! Marinette is next door, getting changed. She'll be back over soon."

"This is- wow," Adrien said, glancing around the room. He stepped towards the kitchen, curious. There were some delicious scents floating out, and he wanted to know what Marinette had made. There was definitely something sweet and chocolate-y, but he couldn't place exactly what it was or what else Marinette might have made for dinner- for their date, because there was no denying that that was what this was. "Marinette is amazing. I can't wait to see what she made-"

"But you will wait!" Tikki insisted, flying in front of Adrien and pushing at his chest. "Marinette said that you aren't allowed to look yet. Go clean up and then wait until she comes back!"

Adrien went.

"Ugh, now I'm going to have to put up with your soppiness all evening," Plagg complained as Adrien stripped out of his work clothes and started digging through his closet in search of clothes that would be suitable for a date, since that was apparently what Marinette was planning. "All that kissing and cuddling and ew."

"Can I just send you over to Mari's apartment with some cheese?" Adrien asked as he picked out a green button-up that complimented his eyes. "You could just stay over there overnight."

"And then get forgotten in the morning and have to starve all day? No thanks!"

Adrien could only sigh.

It didn't take long to put on a clean pair of black slacks and a fresh button-up and to slip on a pair of dressy shoes, and then Adrien spent several minutes in front of the mirror in the bathroom making sure that his hair looked good. As he finished, he could hear the front door open and close again, followed by the sound of Marinette's voice as she talked to Tikki.

Grinning, Adrien headed out to meet his girlfriend. He didn't get far before he caught sight of her and promptly stopped dead in his tracks, jaw dropping to the floor.

Marinette giggled.

"You can't just spring a dress like that on me with no warning, my Lady," Adrien managed once he picked his jaw off of the floor. "Wow."

"I've been saving it," Marinette admitted. "I found it in my closet over Christmas last year and just had to bring it back, even if I didn't know where I would wear it." She shrugged sheepishly, smiling at him. "Now just seemed the perfect time."

Adrien wasn't entirely certain that his heart had restarted. He was still a bit stuck on the way that Marinette's scarlet dress clung to her like a glove. And the skin- oh, the skin...

He was 97% percent positive that Marinette was trying to kill him. That certainty inched up to 100%- no, 130%- when Marinette turned around to lead the way into the living room.

How she had achieved that body-hugging fit with a back that low, Adrien had no clue. But he wasn't about to complain.

Adrien eagerly followed Marinette into the living room. All of the candles were lit now, bathing the room in a soft glow. As he glanced around, Adrien noticed that there were rose petals scattered around as well.

"I wanted to go really romantic," Marinette explained, twining her arm through his. "So I thought of the time you set up all of those candles and rose petals on the balcony, and I tried to do the same. Are you ready for dinner?"

Adrien nodded, and eagerly followed her directions to sit. Marinette scooted into the kitchen, and soon emerged with two bowls of her great-uncle's famous soup. A second trip to the kitchen, and she came back with a basket of bread.

"This must have taken all afternoon to make!" Adrien exclaimed as she set a plate down in front of him for the bread and then settled into the seat next to him. "You're amazing, Marinette."

Marinette shrugged, pleased smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I thought we could use a proper date- well, as proper as we can get while we're still in London! I used some of my time off to take the afternoon off to prepare everything."

"I love you," Adrien blurted out. Seriously, how had he ended up with someone so amazing? She had gone absolutely above and beyond to make the evening special. Somehow, she had managed to transform his plain old apartment into something practically magical.

Maybe they had only been together-together for a few months, but Adrien was positive that he was going to marry this woman.

"I love you too, chaton," Marinette told him. The soft smile she sent his way made Adrien melt. "Ready to eat?"

Adrien could only nod eagerly as he dug into the meal. Wang Cheng had clearly taught Marinette well, because the soup was every part as delicious as he remembered.

They were halfway through the meal before Tikki and Plagg showed up again. Plagg made a beeline for a buttered chunk of bread on Adrien's plate, while Tikki settled by some candles nearby. She didn't look happy, and Adrien had to wonder if she maybe had been meant to keep Plagg out of the way throughout the entire thing. He wasn't too bothered about it- not having Plagg nearby felt weird at this point, anyway, and he probably would have started wondering what his kwami was up to and if he was getting into any mischief without supervision soon if the two of them hadn't shown up.

"If we hadn't gotten spotted last time, I would have suggested going out on a run after dessert," Marinette said as she passed Adrien a lovely slice of chocolate cake. Tikki wriggled excitedly as she got her own thin, kwami-sized slice of the cake. "But the moon is practically full and the sky is clear, so it wouldn't be safe to go out. I guess that staying in is good, too."

"Any time I spend with you is time well spent," Adrien promised, catching Marinette's hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Purr-haps we can do a date like this next time we're back in Paris... whenever that is."

"It might not be until Christmas," Marinette admitted. "I might go back some weekend for a visit, but I have enough going on here that I'm not going back to visit as often as I thought I would." She let out a frustrated sigh. "I miss my parents, but they're always busy with the bakery when I go home for a weekend and we only end up getting an evening to be properly together."

"I might end up going back some weekend to do a fall photoshoot for my father, but even if you came back at the same time there's no promises that I wouldn't be too busy to do anything," Adrien said with a sigh. So much for his idea. Realistically, he knew that it would be impossible to plan anything with Marinette without Nathalie knowing about it first, and if he had a chunk of time free then he would also want to see Nino and Alya. "Since now I've been cramming my photoshoots in to a couple days, it means I'd either be getting fitted or in a shoot all day. And I suppose that just some weekend would be a kind of random time for the two of us to show back up in Paris again- as superheroes, I mean."

Marinette made a face but nodded. "Yeah. Ugh, that's annoying. And here I was thinking that it would be easier for us to date in public as superheroes. I can't believe I forgot the whole identity thing."

"Speaking of which..." Adrien started, suddenly reminded of something, and the kwamis both turned to look at him. "I was just thinking about it today, and I can't believe it took us so long to figure each other out after we ran into each other as Ladybug and Chat Noir! One would think that we would put the pieces together, but of course not. I was even considering asking if you wanted to do a reveal so that we could coordinate nights out better, but then we just always went out at the same time."

"I asked about doing a reveal after you mentioned that you had seen me going past your window," Marinette admitted, and Adrien's eyes went wide in surprise. "But Tikki said no."

"What? Why?"

Marinette blinked and then turned to her kwami with one eyebrow raised. "You know, I don't actually know why. Tikki, care to explain why you discouraged me from telling Chat Noir anything?"

Tikki looked positively sheepish as she stuffed a large chunk of cake in her mouth so that she wouldn't have to speak. Neither Adrien nor Marinette were going to back down, though, so finally Tikki swallowed and sighed. "Okay, okay! I just wanted to see how the reveal would go down without you two revealing to each other on purpose. Besides, it was funny! You two were making excuses to each other to run off and see- well, each other!"

"I think Plagg's rubbed off on her too much," Adrien whispered to Marinette as she stared at her kwami. "'Because it was funny' is such a Plagg reason for doing things."

"Besides, it all turned out fine!" Tikki added. A smear of frosting decorated her cheek. "You two found each other even without any help from the kwamis!"

"We figured it out because Plagg forgot to check and see if I had company before barging in demanding cheese," Adrien corrected her dryly. "We didn't just, y'know, spontaneously piece things together."

Tikki just pouted.

"Well, I'm glad we're good entertainment for the kwamis, at least," Marinette said. She set her empty plate to the side and smiled up at him. "So, what else do you want to do? A movie?"

Adrien grinned, reaching over and pulling Marinette into his lap. His hands itched to explore the bare back presented to him by Marinette's marvelous dress. "Oh, I'm sure we can find something to do for the rest of the evening..."

Plagg gagged loudly.

Lazy weekends with Marinette were the best, Adrien decided the last Saturday afternoon in August as he munched on the cookie he had gotten from the kitchen. Maybe they weren't doing a whole lot while they were together, but they could just near close by and enjoy each other's company and maybe nap in the sun. Adrien was just on his way back to the couch with his prize to do just that when a familiar logo on one of Marinette's letters caught his eye and he wandered over to check it out.

"Is that from apartment management?" Adrien asked curiously, bending over to look at the piece of mail on top of Marinette's table. "Are you having maintenance done or something? I haven't gotten any letters from them."

"It's a reminder that I have to renew my lease for next year," Marinette said, glancing over at him from the couch. "I'll do that tomorrow, I just haven't had time recently. My schedule hasn't lined up at all with the landlady's."

"Shouldn't you have already resigned the lease?" Adrien asked, frowning. "You came over here early summer last year. I've already done mine, since Nathalie had my place on hold for a couple months before I came over here."

Marinette laughed at that. It was a reasonable assumption, but she had just gotten a strange arrangement for her apartment in the first place. "I was actually subleasing my apartment for several months before I signed my lease. Some university student had had it and of course their lease ran through the end of the summer, but they had already gotten a job in another city and didn't need this place. So I rented from them over the summer, and then had things set up with the landlady so I would keep the apartment after the previous person's lease ran out."

Adrien looked pensive. "Huh."

"I got lucky, really," Marinette continued. "Abbey- you remember Abbey, right?- she wanted to get into this building, but apartments don't open often. And she's had terrible luck with when openings do come up, because they never line up with when her lease at her current place expires at all and her contract doesn't let her sublease, even if she could find someone to sublease to."

"That stinks," Adrien sympathized, making a face. "And of course she wouldn't want to be paying for an apartment that she wasn't using. Couldn't she coordinate with an outgoing intern? I thought Madam Rosalie said that a lot of her workers live here."

"She's tried," Marinette told him. "But the people leaving most recently that she knew didn't live here." She shrugged. "I'm sure she'll get in soon enough."

Adrien looked pensive, even as he nodded and turned back to his book. Marinette thought that the conversation was over, but that wasn't quite the case.

"We've been spending pretty much all of our time off work together," Adrien started a bit hesitantly as they finished dinner that evening and cleared their plates off the table and into the kitchen. He was looking nervous for some reason, fiddling with his Miraculous as he spoke. "And you've spent pretty much every night since we started dating over here."

"Right," Marinette agreed, brow furrowing in confusion. She really wasn't sure where Adrien was going with this, or why he was so fidgety. Normally it meant that he was uncomfortable or uncertain, but nowadays Adrien was rarely uncomfortable around her. "...what about it?"

Adrien swallowed, looking even more nervous as he reached up to rub the back of his head. "I, um- I was wondering if, instead of renewing your lease, if you wanted to move in with me."

Marinette froze. Part of her- the teenaged, very excitable part- was screaming yes, yes yes!

The other part of her wasn't quite so sure.

"I mean, I don't want to pressure you!" Adrien assured her quickly when Marinette didn't respond right away. She could see his expression drop a little bit, his expression closing off marginally. She had known him for long enough- and well enough- to read him well, even when he went into model-mode and controlled his expressions. "I mean, it was just an idea, I don't want to make you feel like you need to say yes or anything, just-"

"You aren't pressuring me," Marinette assured Adrien, reaching out to take his hands as she cut across his sudden stream of babbling. "And it's not like I don't appreciate the offer, Adrien. It's just that..." Marinette trailed off, biting her lip.

Adrien's expression dropped and his gaze fell to the floor. "You don't want to, it's fine."

"No, I-" Marinette cut herself off, frustrated. "As much as I would like to, I don't think it's a good idea, at least not right now."

Adrien's gaze flashed back to her.

"We just started officially dating, Adrien," Marinette reminded him. "Only a couple months ago. I think it's a little early to be moving in with each other."

Adrien's expression shifted to puzzled, which was much better than the downtrodden expression he had been trying to hide before. "But we basically live together anyway- we cook together and eat together, and you sleep over here more often than you sleep in your own flat."

That...was true. "But we still have our own spaces if we need them," Marinette said, remembering the advice her mother had given her when she moved to London. Marinette hadn't been planning on getting a boyfriend while she was out of the country (nor had she been planning on staying for more than a year; she was going to get her work experience and move back to Paris, that was the plan and she was going to stick to it), but Sabine wanted to prepare her for anything she might encounter. One of the things she said- well, besides warning against rushing into a serious relationship or letting a boy get in the way of her internship experience- was that even if she was sure that she loved someone and thought that they would get along well, sharing an apartment with only one bedroom was only asking for trouble when the relationship was young.

Adrien looked slightly taken aback, though he was clearly trying to hide it. "In case we break up, you mean?"

"No, nothing that serious!" Or, rather, possibly. Neither of them had ever dated before, after all- while they had seen other couples and how they acted, that was hardly a substitute for actual experience, which both of them were completely and utterly lacking. It was completely possibly (but not probable, in Marinette's opinion) that they would fight and fall apart for some stupid reason. They would probably make up again, if that happened- they were best friends, after all, and they definitely got along well- but in the hours or days that it took for them to cool down, having to share a one-bedroom apartment would only make things worse, not better. "Just, like, if we get in an argument, or if you need to study and I'm having to brainstorm out loud, it would really be nice to have the separate spaces."

Adrien's kicked kitten look didn't go away completely, and Marinette sighed. "It's advice my mother gave me," she admitted, sliding her chair closer to Adrien as she spoke. "Even if we hung out together all of last year, she told me that people tend to have slightly different expectations for relationships than they did for friendships, even if they don't realize it. I think it would be better if we got used to being, y'know, dating, before we make any permanent moves."

Adrien's face finally cleared. "So it would be to, like, ease the transition?"

"Exactly." Marinette scooted even closer so she could snuggle up to Adrien's side and much to her relief, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Next year at this time, I'm sure I would say yes. But not right now."

"Is that what your parents did?" Adrien asked after a moment. "The living apart for a bit, I mean."

Marinette nodded, remembering what her mother had said. Even if Marinette hadn't thought that she would need to use her mother's advice while she was in London, that didn't mean that she hadn't listened. "They waited two and a half years, actually. And then they got a two-bedroom apartment, and they each had their own designated bedroom. They shared a room most of the time, of course, but if they needed to they had somewhere they could go to be alone for a little while. It was more expensive, of course, but they said that there were a few times when it probably saved their relationship."

"Okay, I can see where that's smart," Adrien admitted. "I know Nino has said before that he's glad his and Alya's families are nearby, because one of them can go back home for some distance if they have a fight or something."

"And we don't exactly have that here," Marinette reminded him. "I mean, maybe I could go to Sarah's apartment or something and sleep on her couch if we had a fight, but that would require actually telling her that we were dating and sharing an apartment. And that wouldn't work for more than a couple nights."

"Right, of course. I just hadn't considered that before I asked you." He gave a small wince, feeling a bit bad about how pouty he had been about the perceived rejection. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine. I'm glad we had a conversation about it, at any rate." Marinette grinned. "My parents always said that communication is the most important thing in a relationship."

"I'm glad that we're doing well with that so far, then." Adrien dropped a kiss onto Marinette's crown. "Any other relationship advice from your parents? They certainly know what they're talking about. They've been married for almost thirty years now, right?"

Marinette nodded. "Yeah, they have." She paused, thinking back to the advice that her parents had given her. "I mean, most of the advice they gave me was, like, how not to get into a bad relationship and the signs of a toxic relationship. Which, I mean, it's important to know and all, but..." She trailed off with a gesture. I trust you. We've been friends and partners forever. "Somehow, I don't think we'll have that issue."

Adrien nodded and beamed down at her, and Marinette felt her heart skip a beat. He was still too cute for his own good.

"My parents also said that it's important for people to have a lot in common," Marinette added, remembering that particular conversation. "That it's important to have some different interests, of course, but it's easier to find things to do together if people have common interests."

Adrien grinned. "Let's see...we both love video games and Jagged Stone's music. I'm at least somewhat interested in fashion, especially when it's you doing the designing-"

"Flirt," Marinette grumbled, though she couldn't hide the grin on her face.

Adrien pressed a kiss to her forehead, just because he could. "Always. We're both superheroes. We're both decent cooks, although the finer points of baking still elude me, though that's fine because I adore your baking."

Marinette giggled. "You'll learn eventually. You pick up on stuff fast."

"We have similar cleaning habits, we have the same friends... Mari," Adrien said, suddenly serious as he turned to her. "We're actual clones of each other."

Marinette snorted and almost choked on the water she had been drinking. She emerged dripping and still snickering. "Adrien!"

"What? It's the truth!"

"We are not clones," Marinette insisted with a laugh. "For one, I don't have a ridiculous sense of humor like you do."

"Try again," Adrien teased, tickling her sides until she squealed. "You laugh at my jokes, I know you do. You're not as good at hiding your smiles as you seem to think."

"I don't understand Physics at all," Marinette said instead of continuing to argue the point. Adrien grinned at the small victory but didn't gloat. Instead, he nodded solemnly.

"Ah, yes, I know. Otherwise, you would be able to understand the true gravity of your beauty."

Predictably, Marinette could only groan loudly.

Despite Marinette's talk about keeping her own apartment so they could each have their own space, they rarely used it. She still slept over every night, and it seemed like more and more of her clothes were migrating over to live in Adrien's drawers and closet.

He didn't mind at all. In fact, he tidied up his dresser even more so Marinette could have a few drawers all to herself and he moved all of his things over to one side of the closet so she would have space there, too.

"I would have thought that you would have more clothes," Marinette admitted when she saw what he had done. "You only take up half a closet? Really? Even though your father is a designer?"

"I'm starting to be worried about how much space your clothes take up," Adrien joked. "But yeah, only half a closet. I mean, I didn't bring everything, of course. I've got loads more clothes at home. But I figured that I didn't need everything. I wouldn't get around to wearing it all." He chanced a glance at her. "...so, uh, how much space does your wardrobe take up?"

Marinette looked a little sheepish. "Now, after the trips I've done home to Paris? We might need to look into finding a wardrobe at a thrift store or something and using that, too once I move fully over here. Either that or I'll have to put out-of-season things in storage."

Adrien did his best not to laugh.

The two of them had also long since given up the idea of trying to keep their shopping and cooking separate. It was too hard to keep track of who had what ingredients and then where the leftovers were when they tried to keep things separate. Besides, combining their pantries meant that mid-week grocery runs could be kept to a minimum, and their weekend trips to the store were a whole lot more enjoyable when they both went.

"I swear, by the time I memorize where everything is in this store it'll be time to go back to Paris," Marinette said with a laugh as they turned around and headed back up the aisle they had just come out of. "You would think that between the two of us we would be able to remember where everything is, but no such luck."

"I think we just distract each other and that's why we always miss stuff," Adrien teased. "I swear I don't have to go back as often when I do the shopping on my own."

Marinette gasped, pressing a mock-scandalized hand to her chest. "Why Adrien, are you insinuating that I'm distracting?"

"You know you are," Adrien said without missing a beat. "Such a distracting Bug."

From inside of Adrien's jacket, Plagg let out a soft gagging sound. Adrien was about to ignore him and ramp up the flirting instead- even if they were out in public, people were shopping, not paying them any attention- when an unfortunately familiar face caught his eye. Promptly, Adrien froze.

Of course they couldn't just have a normal, non-eventful outing, even just once. Of course not.

"We gotta split up," Adrien hissed frantically, steering Marinette further up the aisle where the tabloid reporter Adrien had just spotted (and how did they run into them so often? Was London just overrun with tabloid reporters like rats?) wouldn't notice them. "I can take the second half of the list, if you want."

"Wait, are you serious?" Marinette asked in confusion. She twisted and frowned back at Adrien as he hurried her up the aisle. "I thought you were kidding about the whole being a distraction thing!"

"I was- well, mostly," Adrien corrected himself. "But I just spotted one of the tabloid reporters from one of the more pesky magazines. She's just out shopping, but if she sees us..."

"She would probably make a giant deal out of us grocery shopping together," Marinette finished. She made a face. "Ugh. That sounds so lame and paranoid but some of those magazines totally would."

"Welcome to the life of a very minor celebrity," Adrien joked through gritted teeth. "The life of a very minor celebrity on a slow news day, that it. Imagine what it would be like if anyone ever found out about our, ah, extra-curricular activities back in Paris!"

Marinette shuddered. "I'd rather not imagine that, thanks. That would be awful! We would never get any rest." She glanced down at the list. "Here, you take everything after the cereal. Maybe we'll be able to check out together still, but if not then I'll see you back at the apartment."

Adrien nodded, took the offered part of the list, and hurried off to get a basket. At least he would be the one paying for all of Plagg's cheese with the list divided like this.

"You're not shopping with your wife anymore?" Plagg asked, popping his head out of Adrien's jacket as he snagged a basket and quickly headed towards the dairy section of the store. "Oh, goodie. No more flirting! You were making me sick."

"We were not," Adrien countered, keeping his voice low so no one would give him any funny looks. "And she's not my wife yet, Plagg. You know that."

Plagg muttered something indistinguishable and vanished back into Adrien's jacket.

As he whizzed through the rest of the shopping trip, Adrien kept an eye out for the reporter he had seen earlier. He spotted her a few times, and each time he quickly headed up whatever aisle was closest. It made what should have been a very normal shopping trip incredibly stressful, and by the time Adrien checked out and started heading back to the apartment building, Adrien was starting to wonder if it was really worth it to keep their relationship a secret.

Sure, maybe their relationship would get plastered all over the tabloids and they might get hounded for a couple weeks until everyone figured out that they were cute but boring, and his father would be upset, but Adrien just wanted to be able to go on a shopping trip like normal.

"I know what you're thinking kid, and I wouldn't do it," Plagg warned as Adrien headed into the apartment building. "You and Marinette already discussed it, remember? You're trying to not tick off your father right now."

Adrien let out a huff and didn't answer. It sometimes seemed that most everything he did ticked off his father in some way, so what was one more thing? Still, Plagg was probably right.

Marinette was already in his apartment, busy unloading bags and putting things away. Tikki was trying to help and failing miserably, since most of the things they had bought were far too heavy for her to lift. Adrien laughed and caught the orange Tikki was trying to carry before she could topple off the counter and then dove into the nearest bag to help with the unpacking.

It looked like Marinette had gotten the lion's share of things to carry. Clearly it hadn't bothered her- if she had thought that she had too much to carry, she would have just waited for him outside the grocery store or somewhere on the route back to their building- but Adrien wasn't going to make her put everything away, too.

"Say, I don't remember chocolate being on our list," Adrien said after a few minutes. He held up the bag and raised an eyebrow at Marinette. "Last-minute addition?"

She reached out to take the bag from him. "Yup. I thought we could make cookies."

Adrien couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Marinette rolled up onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. "But first, we have to finish unpacking the groceries. Pass the milk, please."

By the time the cookies made it into the oven, Adrien was in dire need of some sugar. His father had called him up- well, Nathalie had called him up, and then put his father on once she had gotten Adrien on the line- and spent a large chunk of time nagging on about Adrien doing menial office work in London instead of coming back to Paris for the summer instead to be at Mr. Agreste's back and call for fittings, photoshoots, and commercial shootings. He had then complained about Adrien's chosen major for another chunk of time, and then ended the call with reminders on how Adrien was expected to behave in London, because apparently Mr. Agreste hadn't learned anything at all from the prank.

"There must have been some article again," Marinette said once Adrien hung up, looking utterly exhausted. "Or maybe he's getting nervous with the start of the fall semester getting closer, if he thought that you would quit sooner."

"It's enough to make me not want to move back to Paris once I've finished here," Adrien grumbled, flopping onto the couch. "I mean, I don't want to let him control me that way, either, by driving me away from Paris, but... I just worry that he'll think he can control me more when I'm closer."

"Eh, he's bound to accept that you're your own person eventually," Plagg piped up helpfully from where he was . "Maybe it won't be until you've finished your degree and have a permanent job and your own apartment in Paris, but I bet you can out-stubborn him."

Adrien groaned. He would be in school for two years more, and right now that felt like forever to have to deal with his father's temper tantrums. At least he hadn't decided to go to a university in Paris. The distance between Paris and London at least provided a little bit of a buffer.

"Don't let him get you down," Marinette said, patting his arm as she curled up next to him on the couch. She nuzzled into his side. "Remember, now that you're an adult, all he is is hot air. He can complain and bluster, but you're in control, kitty cat."

"Right." Adrien let out a long breath, trying to let the negativity out. He was far from his father, following his own chosen major, Hawkmoth was defeated, and he had his girlfriend- his long-time love- at his side. And there were lovely chocolate-chip cookies in the oven. Even if his father insisted on being awful and inconsiderate, life was still good.

From there, the day just got better. Adrien ate far more cookies than was strictly a good idea (both he and Tikki got a scolding from Marinette after they burned their mouths on too-hot cookies just out of the oven), he and Marinette tried to learn how to dance around his living room under Tikki's instruction, and then they cooked dinner together.

It didn't miss Adrien's attention that Marinette had picked out his favorite meal from the week's menu to prepare that night. She really was the best.

Several hours and more than a few rounds of Mega Strike 3 later, the two of them went to bed. As they drifted off together peacefully, Adrien's arms draped over the woman he loved, he knew that together, they could do anything.

Adrien was rudely awakened at six twenty-three by a loud shriek less than a meter away. He jolted upright, years of fighting setting his nerves ablaze, and he positive flew out of bed, eyes scanning the room for the source of the sound.

He found Marinette clutching her phone, staring at the screen and looking incredibly excited. Tikki was floating by her shoulder, rubbing tired eyes with her little paws.

"What's going on?" Adrien asked, puzzled. He rounded the bed to join her, yawning as he went. "Marinette?"

"Jagged Stone's assistant emailed me!" Marinette exclaimed. "She says that some people he knows- other musicians- they want me to make their album art, too!"

Adrien grinned at her. "Really? Congratulations, Marinette! That's so cool!" It was great that Marinette could keep making connections with people that could really get her well-known and a great asset to whatever label she ended up joining. It meant that she would have a wider range of fashion companieswanting her, so she could pick and choose the job that she wanted to be associated with in the long run instead of having to settle with whatever she could get.

Adrien was of the opinion that Marinette was far too talented to settle.

"Yeah! I hope I can get them all what they want." Marinette was grinning widely now. "Oh, wow, I wasn't expecting another Jagged Stone cover, let alone having other musicians wanting me to design covers as well. I'm not- I'm not even a proper artist or anything, I'm a fashion designer-"

"You're an artist," Adrien corrected, smiling and wrapping his arms around Marinette's waist. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. "Just because you chose to focus more on the fashion design aspect doesn't mean you aren't an incredibly talented artist. And you understand the music and you understand color and just... you're amazing, Marinette. Of course people would want you to design things for them."

"It's just hard to believe," Marinette admitted, putting her phone back down on her nightstand and wriggling around in Adrien's arms so she could cuddle into his chest. "Like, I'm only just starting out in fashion and design, yet I got an internship right out of university and now I'm designing album covers for famous musicians and designing fabrics from scratch and- it's just a lot, you know? I always hoped I was good enough to make it, but most people don't. I got an email from one of my old classmates a couple weeks ago and it seems like a lot of people are working other jobs during the day, like at a grocery store or pizza place or in an office, and then they're trying to design stuff to sell online during the time they aren't working. It makes me feel a bit guilty sometimes, you know? Like, how did I get so lucky?"

"Well, you're talented," Adrien pointed out, hugging her close. "Your design aesthetic seems to be one that sells easily. You work hard. It's not like opportunities just fall into your lap."

Marinette made a bit of a face at that. "They kind of do, though? Like, not everyone has the chance to design sunglasses or album covers for rock stars. And that was kind of what set me apart when I was applying to design school, and then again when I was applying for internships."

"So you've had some unique opportunities and took advantage of them," Adrien pointed out. He wasn't going to let Marinette get down on herself like that, not when she was amazing and talented and deserved all of the opportunities she got. And she had done amazing work even when she was protecting the city as Ladybug, which meant it was even more amazing. "Some people could have had the same opportunity and had it go nowhere. They could have just found something in a shop and called it a day."

Marinette cringed and ducked her head at that. "That was what I did at first, actually. I, uh, was a little jealous about Chloe getting to hang out with you while I was out running around, so I bought the first pair of Eiffel Tower-adorned sunglasses I spotted. Jagged hated them. It was only after that when I thought about designing them myself."

"And some people would have quit after that," Adrien said firmly. "I know I would have, probably. We weren't being paid to do the work in the hotel. Or I would have found the person who normally did those sorts of runs for celebrities and just accompanied them. I don't know why they didn't have you do that, actually. Literally everyone else except Chloe and I were just shadowing a normal worker."

"Maybe that person was off," Marinette suggested. "Or Mr. Bourgeois was still really flustered from Jagged showing up and forgot to call up the normal runner for me to work with."

Adrien grinned as he remembered just how shaken Chloe's father had been after he finally got Jagged Stone settled in. He had quickly retired to a private room after ensuring that Chloe had entered everything into the computer correctly, and Adrien and Chloe had spotted a cook bringing a tray with wine on it into the room just a short while later. Chloe had been worried, but Adrien rather thought that Mr. Bourgeois deserved the stress.

After all, he had been very rude to Jagged Stone before Chloe told him who Jagged was. There was no need to be so mean to anyone just because they weren't famous or rich, and it was honestly surprising that Mr. Bourgeois' attitude hadn't lost business for the hotel.

"Oh, this is going to take up my evenings again and I won't get to spend that time with you!" Marinette suddenly said. She was pouting again, and Adrien did his best to refrain from commenting about how adorable she looked with the pout and her messy hair. "That was the only thing I didn't like about doing Jagged Stone's commission. It felt like I was just ignoring you."

"You weren't," Adrien assured her. "I had my own things to do while you were designing. And we can't be doing stuff together 100% of the time anyway, that's just not realistic. I'll be starting up classes again soon enough and I'll probably be studying or working on projects during the evening a lot."

"Maybe we just need to decide on a time when we'll be done for the night, unless there's exams or last-minute project deadlines or something," Marinette suggested. "Then we can make sure we have some time to spend together every night. It'll keep my work from encroaching on our us time too much."

"I think that's a good idea," Adrien agreed, squeezing Marinette tight again and pressing another kiss to her forehead. There was a pause, then Adrien yawned and glanced over at the clock. It was still ridiculously early, not even seven o'clock on a Sunday.

"So..." Adrien started, a little hesitantly. "I know you're probably super-excited right now and everything- and congratulations, by the way, if I forgot to say it before- but can we go back to bed for a bit first before we have a celebratory breakfast?"

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #How to Fake a Marriage #more fluff #I meant to post this yesterday but I was working outside for 5 hours #then I meant to post this earlier in the day but I spent most of the afternoon talking to the kitchen guy #and I considered pushing it off another day but I have something else to post tomorrow so have this now

65 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 6 years

Text

Brass & Strings [17]

Episode 16 - Episode 17 - Episode 17.5 OR Episode 18 Words: 4.4k Genre: The cutest Fluff ever, Humour (?), Slice of Life, Implied smut, Music!Au, College!Au Summary: Have you ever wondered what happens to the mean girl after high school? Where do they go, where do they end up? More importantly, what happens when they get mixed up with the classic nerd that is always too nervous to answer no? Things become a lot more complicated when Kim Namjoon encounters you. They dub you as bat-shit insane and you’re not ashamed.

Cr.

“I love you.”

Namjoon gazing at you without a smile. The taupe duffle coat you gifted him is wrapped around his body, his glasses left back at home on his desk with the rest of his school papers that are due soon and his usual ruffled hair is instead gelled in a near style. You were suspicious when you saw how good he looked. Namjoon insisted on taking you out on a date tonight, having a nice meal and wandering around the town hand-in-hand. It’s a usual date, a simple yet warm one that you love to pieces. But when you ran through your mind to try to recall if this was a special occasion or anniversary, you found that it’s the one year mark since you’ve met him.

One year. An entire three hundred sixty five days with him.

You hope there are many more to come.

“Pardon?”

You frown, dipping your head slightly and speculating if you misheard. Underneath the bus station glass shelter and with the incandescent light bulbs of street lamps spouting it’s glow on your hair, your hand tightens around his; fingers that are laced together without sparing a single gap in between. There's no one besides you and him, the streets empty with the moon hung high in the sky with the stars. It's a peaceful night. But your heart is roaring, deafeningly loud.

Namjoon’s eyes hold a sweet and unwavering sincerity, watching your expression in an unadulterated carefulness that only spikes your anxiety.

“I'm in love with you, Y/N.”

There's a long moment of silence. One where you hold your breath in your lungs and you tilt your head to one side and your brows furrow deeper.

“Cool.” It's the first thing that comes out of your mouth. And you don't know how to fix the mess that's happening in front of you. It's uncontrollable and your brain is screaming for you to do something, say anything. “That's awesome.”

Fuck. Shit.

As your boyfriend pulls his brown irises away from your face to stare at the sewage water flowing in the gutter, reflecting the luminescence of the milky way galaxy above you both…

You know you fucked up.

Life in the frat house isn’t as luxurious as someone might expect. In the movies and books, it’s all about the parties and alcohol, living on top of the world and getting wasted, competing against brothers to see who could sleep with more people and pick up more chicks.

In reality, it’s much less than that and more monotonous.

Sure, there are parties but they don’t take place most days and the cleanup process never fails to leave Jungkook wondering if it was worth it at all. There’s also a prestigious, righteous aura around his acappella group but no one knows about the brutalities or back stabbings, the lies and deceit that surround the highly competitive activity. Jungkook’s life consists of waking up and heading to class, being told that he needs to work on his vocals by the club head and then having to deal with his dofus roommate before going to bed. Occasionally, there might be a girl in the mix to help him relieve stress. Rinse and repeat.

Hence, you could imagine his surprise and delight when you called him out, breaking his mundane routine that was about to drive the frat kid up the wall.

“Are you going to give me my ten dollars back?” His eyes gleam, observing you taking a seat across the table. Jungkook sips on his frappuccino, wondering if he should mention that you’re late to the appointed time and he’s been waiting for twenty minutes.

“What? No.” You sigh, rubbing your temples to alleviate the strain. He muses how exhausted you look, hair strands escaping from your ponytail, your fur coat that’s not even worn properly around your shoulders. “Shut up for a second.”

Jungkook isn’t the type of person to meet up with someone simply because they called him and asked him to. He’s not a big fan of commitment when he knows he could be dropped like a hot potato the next second - he’s done it before to others, what’s stopping people from doing that to him?

But he was much too curious to refuse you. You’ve always been hostile towards him. To call him and want to meet up, the brown doe-eyed boy’s interest is piqued.

“I need your help.”

You had thought about it for a long time. If there was anyone who would give you a clear cut answer without beating around the bush or trying to pry for more information from you, it was this dude. He has a lot of background experience with this anyways, considering his popularity around campus and you wouldn’t feel embarrassed asking him. You frankly don’t care how Jungkook perceives you.

“You need my help?” His mouth opens, questioning if you’re the same person who stepped on his foot and told him to ‘fuck off’ on orientation day two years ago when he tried to hit on you.

You let out another long exhale, looking him in his bewilderment. “What do you do when one of your girls tells you that they love you?”

“I cut them off.”

The answer is obvious to Jungkook. He shrugs. It’s instinctual for him.

But you don’t want to cut Namjoon off. You like him very much. The thought of even breaking up kind of makes you want to cry.

“Well, what happens if you want them to stay?”

“What?” He raises his brows, twisting his face in disgust. “Then, they’d expect me to get into a relationship with them.”

“Okay.” You nod your head. “If you’re dating, what do you do when they tell you that?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?!” Jungkook practically screams and he doesn’t care that people turn their heads to glare at him. “What the hell? I don’t get into relationships!”

There’s an extended moment of quietness, lengthened enough for the ice in his drink to float around and clank against his plastic cup.

Your expression is blank and impassive. But your pupils are boring into his skin. Jungkook shifts uncomfortably and you finally speak up, “you’re really useless, you know.”

He makes a pained, sarcastic smile in response to your venomous tone. “Thanks.”

The acapella student wonders how the hell you managed to get a boyfriend. Or rather, if Namjoon was an absolute masochist - it’s the only plausible reason how anyone could ever stand being with you.

(...if only he knew).

Jimin takes a long sip of his hot coffee at the kitchen counter, his ‘Strategy and Global Management’ textbook is abandoned beside him. He’s watching his roommate pace back and forth, the dimpled boy scrubbing his glasses with a tiny cloth and becoming visibly upset when there’s still smudges on the lenses.

Namjoon grunts out angrily, stomps about and then slams his bedroom door shut but not before bumping into furniture.

“Is everything alright?” Jimin tries not to be too invasive but would much rather use this excuse to not study for an upcoming midterm. He hasn’t seen you around in the apartment in the past few days and decided giving you a call wouldn’t hurt. “Y/N?”

“Everything’s fine,” you reply in a colder tone across the other line.

“Oh, I was just wondering since Namjoon looks down and all…”

“He….does?”

The small conversation with Jimin only makes you feel worse. The guilt has piled on your shoulders, bearing a weight that feels as if you’re holding the sky up for the rest of the world.

You haven’t spoken to your boyfriend since ‘The Incident’. It’s quite obvious that you’ve been avoiding him, running in the opposite direction when he gets in a fifty meter radius from you. During practice, you dart your head the other way, staring at the conductor like the old man’s your lover and not the harpist that sulks openly. You also know that recently you haven’t been playing to your best abilities and you haven’t been sleeping all that well either, considering the bed is too large and cold by yourself. Music’s an extremely competitive industry; being the only tubist in the orchestra doesn’t mean you get to slack off. You should be busting your ass off with practicing like you usually do but you can’t.

Your mind is preoccupied.

“Noona?” There’s only one person in this world that would call you that. A shortie with a yellow backpack looks up at you like you own the stars, except this time he’s joined with a certain tall girl, someone with pursed lips, a big frown and black locks draping past their shoulders.

“It is you!”

On his way home from school and walking by the park where you had once saved him, Jin is ecstatic to run into you. He’s even happier when you buy him donuts and he’s sitting at the park bench munching on them with his classmate. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

You sit beside them, head in your hands. “What’s love?”

“Love?” Sunmi leans over to look at you and she pouts her lips. “Why?”

“No reason. I’m just curious as to what your answer is.” You must be losing your mind to be speaking to two middle-schoolers about your problems. But they could be the best people yet.

Who could be more pure-hearted and honest than them?

“Love is when you like someone a whole lot,” Sunmi says in a confident voice, unmistakable in her convictions as she stuffs her cheek and ignores her sugar coated lips. “They’re good looking or nice to you and your heart flutters. It’s simple. You think about them a lot and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Wow, captain obvious.” Seokjin jabs her side with his elbow lightly. “‘Love is when you like someone a whole lot’,” he mocks her in a higher pitched tone in an attempt to mimic the girl and he pouts his lips excessively, batting his lashes back and forth.

“Okay, give it a try then.” Sunmi urges him with a hand. “Go on, tell me what love is.”

“Love….” The boy begins with a far away look in his eyes, becoming dreamy and expression glossing over. “I don’t think it could ever have one definition. It’s different for everyone. It might be finding the feeling of home with someone else. Or it could be excitement. They might make you nervous or happy…” He looks over at his classmate. “You never really know.”

Although Seokjin isn’t the most eloquent, you can understand the emotions he’s trying to convey. But as Sunmi leans over to him with a smirk, whispering into his ear, “why are you staring at me?”, he pushes her away.

“Nevermind! I changed my mind!” He declares, focusing on chomping his donut. “Love is ice cream and the Transformers movies. Love is also gross...ew. Who wants germs? I don’t.”

“You’re so immature,” Sunmi nags him while sticking out her tongue.

“You’re the same age as me!” They bicker back and forth until your headache worsens.

“Well that doesn’t matter! You’re immature.”

“So are you!”

“No, I’m not! Liar!”

“You’re the liar!”

“Well at least I’m not a stupid jerk!”

Jin’s mouth is agape, about to go off but something in his peripheral vision catches his attention. He sharply inhales and whips his head in the opposite direction to hide himself. “Oh crap! That’s my brother.” You look off to where he was indicating and before you’re able to call Hoseok over, the younger male is grabbing his classmate’s friend, ignoring her yelp - “hey!” - and they dart down the street, abandoning the empty donut box beside you.

Hoseok freezes on the sidewalk and he frowns, looking at you and walking over. “That was him wasn’t it?” Your old high school bandmate is unfazed at your presence and he doesn’t say much of a greeting. You don’t need to greet him either. It’s sort of a secret code or handshake….not to acknowledge each other in words. It’s weird but as long as neither of you kick each other in the shins, you’d like to say you’re being pretty civil to your rival.

“Yeah.”

“I knew it.” Hoseok pulls off his heavy backpack full of textbooks and he heaves down at the bench. He disregards your snide comment of ‘did I say you could sit here?’. “I knew the brat had a girlfriend. He was texting someone all night and hiding the phone from me.”

“I don’t think they’re dating,” you mutter softly in place of Seokjin who would no doubt deny it until his hairs become grey and he’s aged a hundred years. “But what are you doing here?”

“Going home,” he scoffs. “What about you? Don’t you have practicing to do? My university might beat you if you keep slacking off like this, Y/N.”

“Not a chance in hell.” You wave him off. “I was only in the area and ran into your brother.”

“Hmm…” It’s been a long time since you’ve sat next to Hoseok. The last time you can recall is lunchtime in your senior year of high school. While other girls blatantly avoided you and quivered in their shoes, Hoseok joined you…...to discuss music. He just wanted to improve the brass section of the concert band.

At the time, most kids took the class to get the credits but you and him were the two most passionate.

With Hoseok’s commands and nitpicking personality that strives for perfection and the way you drove everyone in fear, your classmates obeyed. You’d like to consider that it was Hoseok’s efforts and yours that played a big part as to why your school won the superior award that year.

Unfortunately, Hoseok wasn’t a close friend but the most similar thing you had to it. You always thought it was a shame that he went to a different university. But looks like fate still wanted the two of you to remain as platonic companions.

“Where’s Namjoon? You’re always together with him. What? There’s trouble in paradise?”

“Kind of…” You sheepishly sigh, probably for the fiftieth time since you’ve woken up this morning. They always say that love is spectacular and being in a true relationship is the most fulfilling thing someone can do but no one ever talks about the effort that’s required. To maintain it, you constantly have to put in work - you have to be an active and willing participant. And you’re afraid you’re doing a bad job.

For one, you can’t express your innermost feelings very well. You hate being in a vulnerable position. Secondly, you have a habit of running away when things don’t work out.

You could list a million other reasons why you really aren’t meant for a committed relationship.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t want to try.

“You know, you’ve changed, Y/N.”

You never thought you would ever want to attempt it - though when Namjoon came stumbling into your life, it seems like a lot of things have been reversed. When it comes to him, especially him, your stubbornness is at an all time high. You won’t give up so easily.

“How so?”

“You’re a bit...softer now.”

“Puh-lease.” You roll your eyes, unknowingly becoming defensive. You even whip your hair behind your shoulder as if it’ll add onto your argument. “I have not become soft, Hoseok.”

You enunciate his name, punching at each syllable. “No, that’s not me.” Your head shakes. “I’m cool and hardcore. People fear me. They want to be me.” When you say it aloud, it sounds much more silly and childish than inside your head.

Hoseok laughs at your arrogance. “Okay then, think whatever you want to think.”

The truth of the matter, one that you don’t want to admit, is that Kim Namjoon has not only reversed your life and changed your once firm beliefs. He has also melted your coarse edges and sharp tongue. Dammit.

You bang on the surface of the wooden door, fist booming in a steady beat. When it takes too long, you spam the doorbell with your other hand, the boisterous noise heard on the other side.

It finally opens after two minutes of spamming.

Sleepy eyes look back at you, a mouth that parts to spew out curses but you beat him to the punch, leaning against the doorway. “Why the fuck is your apartment so far away? And why is it practically in the slums? Move already! I thought I was going to get robbed on my way here!”

“What do you want from me?” Yoongi hangs his head in exasperation and exhaustion. He’s shirtless with only shorts on and the sight is repulsive. Is he so poor that he can’t own clothing anymore? Not even a set of nice pajamas?

You laugh in a mocking tone that rings in his ears and makes him scowl. “Not everything’s about you. Now where’s your girlfriend? Jennie?!”

You step to the side to enter his apartment but he steps in the way. Your feet shuffle to the left but he blocks you. It’s another showdown; you versus your dearest cousin. No one is willing to give up.

“Jennie!”

“Get out of here or I’m calling the police!”

“I’d like to see you try! Jennie!” You scream out the concertmistress’ name past his shoulder. “Jennie!”

“It’s literally midnight, Y/N. What the fuc-”

He’s unguarded. You nab at the opportunity. Yoongi huffs out a breath of air. You shove him back. And you’re inside. “Y/N!”

“Jennie?”

Finally, the violinist comes stumbling out of the bedroom in your cousin’s hoodie and you fight not to wince. In the back of your mind, you still find the thought of your family member with your ex-enemy slightly nauseating. “W-what’s going on?” She looks like she’s barely woken up, eyes still closed and hair amuck.

“I need to talk to you.”

The desperation is eating at your skin, like parasite bugs or an unreachable itch on your back that is driving you insane. You need to talk to someone. A person who could understand, sympathetic enough to wrap their minds around your own brain to guide you to the right answer.

You’re too afraid of hurting Namjoon to go to him.

“-and...and then I told him ‘cool’. Like who even says that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose, accepting the warm cup of tea when she offers it to you. Yoongi’s long gone back to bed, giving up on your battle with him for a fluffy pillow and toasty covers instead.

“Well, I think it's a pretty good response for being caught off guard. There are a lot of worse things you could’ve said, Y/N.”

Accurate to what you assumed, Jennie has easily calmed you down. She has an odd counsellor or motherly aura about her. “I-I...I just don't know what to say to him. I don't know how I should face him. I keep imagining hurting him and then him telling me he wants to break up.”

“No.” She firmly shakes her head, putting her hand over yours. “Not Namjoon. He wouldn't. You and I both know he's not the type to break it off because of that.”

“Y-yeah…”

“I think...you should just talk to him, Y/N. You can't guess how he’ll respond or what he’ll say until you actually communicate with him. I know it sounds sappy but if you said what's on your mind, I'm sure Namjoon would understand.”

You nod your head, already knowing that it's the right thing to do. But-

“What's love, Jennie?”

You crane your neck towards her. She's put on a robe overtop of her pajamas, hair thrown into a messy bun and you muse that she has always been kind to you no matter how much you mistreated her in the past. You're suddenly glad that you have her as a friend. “H-how do I know?”

She smiles warmly at you. “You just...do.”

In the meanwhile, Namjoon is unable to sleep even when it’s two o’clock in the morning. He only tumbled around in bed, listened to some relaxation music which only got his brain cranking again and then he decided he might as well be productive and get some homework done.

‘The Incident’ is a constant throbbing pressure at the back of his skull. Every so often, he stops reading in the middle of a paragraph or leaves a sentence hanging to cringe and curse at himself. Was he an idiot? Why did he blurt it out?! Not only is Namjoon mortified by his own spontaneous behaviour but he feels guilty for putting you in that position. It was no wonder that you were avoiding him like the plague. He wouldn’t be surprised if you broke it off with him too.

Aside from being embarrassed to death, Namjoon didn’t want to chase you down for a response. It wasn’t a cat and mouse chase like last time nor was it hide and seek. He wanted to give you space and for you to come to him when you felt like that time was right.

And apparently you felt like two in the morning was a great time.

The doorbell rang once and the clumsy harpist got to his feet before his sleeping roommate in the next room would throw a hissy fit. Hence, no one is able to envision his shock when he finds you on the other side and not some drunk dude who was pounding at the wrong door.

“I-I…” You’re hyperventilating, sweat dripping from your hairline and you wheeze. “I ha...ve...to..talk-...I have to talk to you...I...I ran here..”

Namjoon can’t register what’s happening but he steps aside, allowing you to enter the shabby apartment that’s now become your second home. “What-”

“I’m sorry.” You cough, dragging yourself to stand upwards and looking him in the eyes. Your lungs are still squeezing but you manage and you pull something out of your bag, pressing the soft object to his chest. “I-”

It’s lame. It’s dumb. But it’s a red stuffed crab that you had grabbed at the supermarket kids toy section on your way over. It’s a compensation gift, to try to convey your guilt and apologizes. You don’t know how else to deal with things.

“Is this for me?” Namjoon doesn’t realize that he’s grinning, holding the fluffy thing up. It’s got a bright smile, a cotton shell covering the top of the cute crab. He hasn’t had a present like this since he was five-years old and he feels his heart blooming.

“I’m sorry for forgetting our one year anniversary. W-well...I didn’t forget but I didn’t say anything about it either. That’s not why I’m here though. No more running away,” you mumble but more to yourself. “N-Namjoon, there’s something I need to say to you-”

“We should go to my room first.” He takes your hand, not wanting to disturb his roommate that’s been slaving away to his professors. The door softly closes and he internally swears at himself as to why he had to roll around his bed covers and make everything look like a mess.

Nonetheless, Namjoon fondly places the plush crab down by his bedside table. “I love it.”

“G-good.” You swallow hard, facing him properly like how you should’ve done at the beginning. “I’m sorry, Namjoon.” He tips his head, listening to you and you muster your courage not to shy away. “I-I know I’m a bad girlfriend….I always run away from problems - I’m a coward. But there’s something I need to say to you.”

You brace yourself. “I love-”

“Ahhh...ah...ah….no.” He presses his finger to your lip and you frown. “No. Nope. Shush. Just be quiet.”

“What?”

He drops his hand. “First off, no. You’re not a bad girlfriend.”

“You mean you don’t want to break up with me?”

“Why do we keep having the same conversation?” He exhales with a wide smile, taking your hand and the two of you sit down on the edge of his mattress. “No, L/N Y/N, I don’t want to end our wonderful relationship, okay? You don’t have to worry about that. If anything...I’m sorry.” His voice becomes softer and softer. Namjoon looks away, deflecting your probing orbs. “I know what I said to you was really out of the blue. I..I didn’t mean to say it like that. I had been thinking about it for awhile and it just came out…”

You nervously twiddle your thumbs, “w-why?”

Namjoon shrugs. “You looked really beautiful that night at the bus station.”

A smile cracks through your pressed lips and your tinkling laugh eases his own worries. “Namjoon, I was a mess that day. I literally hadn’t washed my hair or showered. I reeked.”

He shrugs his shoulders again, at a loss. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything. Tell me on your own time, whenever you’re ready.” He brushes your hair gently, tapping your head in an awkward fashion like you’re his pet but the timid boy only causes you to blush and smile harder. “I’ll be waiting patiently.”

For a second, you’re almost moved to the point where tears will start to trickle to your cheeks but you get a grip on yourself and remain composed. “You’re too kind, Nams.”

“Oh, really?” His eyebrow cocks and he instantly pounces, tackling you onto the rumpled bed sheets. You laugh out loud and then there’s an ‘thump’ on the wall. You and your boyfriend freeze before exchanging looks, visualizing Jimin knocking against the surface to get the two of you to shut the fuck up.

You put your palm against your lips, muffling your giggles and Namjoon slumps down beside you. You’re too tired to get up to any trouble anyways. The entire day has exhausted you.

“Hey...there’s one way you can make it up to me.”

Namjoon flickers the light off, holding his new plush toy in his arms. It reminds him of when he was a mere boy who had a million dreams, yet, he would never imagine being with such a girl that would cause absolute chaos in his life….the good kind of chaos.

“What?”

“You can cuddle me,” he murmurs out, “I want to be the small spoon.”

“Deal.”

“Happy anniversary.” Your arm wraps around his abdomen, blankets covered to his chest. Namjoon feels toasty and warm, content like he’s never before. He smiles and murmurs, “I love you.” You only hum in response but knowing that you’re here with him….

It’s enough.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #WOOOO!#That fluff tho

210 notes · View notes

gray-autumn-sky · 5 years

Text

Sleepless in Seattle, Chapter 7

February 17, 1993- Seattle, Washington:

Robin rings his hands as he sits in the booth, staring at the door and waiting for his date.

He cancelled a few days before, and really, he thought that Emma would call off the whole thing.

He felt a degree of guilt over using Roland as an excuse—saying that his son was sick and needed him at home, and though the excuse had sounded fake and flimsy to him, Emma didn’t argue with it. Instead, she said that she understood and that his son should always come first—and then, she confessed that she was feeling a little uncomfortable about that date, anyway. Valentine’s Day brought a certain amount of unnecessary pressure, suggesting that maybe later in the week would be better for them both.

He was glad for the less formal setting and for the proximity to home. This was a place he and Roland went often, and several of the wait staff knew him well—and when he regretfully informed them that he was not dining with his son and confessed that he was actually meeting a woman for a date, they offered pats on the back and high fives and congratulatory wishes that momentarily set him at ease and made him that that maybe this wasn’t the worst idea.

But still, he was nervous and his stomach was in knots—and of course, the two conflicting voices in his head didn’t help the situation. One told him to get up and leave, that he wasn’t ready for this and it wasn’t fair to anyone involved to carry on with a date if there was no chance at something more developing, and the other voice told him it was just pizza and conversation, that if anything, it’d be good for him to be social.

The second voice was winning out when Emma came in to the pizza shop and a slight smile tugged on to his lips as he spotted her.

Ruby and Belle were right—Emma was pretty, though not typically his type. She had long blonde hair that was curled at the ends and the boots she wore made her seem taller than she really was. She wore tight, dark jeans and a red leather jacket over a tucked in what shirt, and as she came closer, she offered him an awkward little wave and a grin.

“Robin?”

“Yes,” he nods. “You’re Emma, then.”

Nodding, she slides into the booth across from him. “I am.”

“You, um… you obviously found the place alright.”

She nods. “Yes, your directions were… very clear.”

For a moment, neither of them says anything and then a little laugh bubbles out of him, and she laughs, too.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m a bit rusty.”

“I am, too.”

“My sister mentioned that you just got out a relationship? I’m sorry—“

“I’m not,” she cuts in. “I just wish I’d gotten out sooner.” He nods. “I’m new in town and staying with some friends from college—“

“David and Mary Margaret,” he supplies. “I am the architect designing the addition on their house.”

“Oh, now I feel the need to apologize. They are so indecisive about every last detail.”

“So the bay window fiasco wasn’t an act to try to put us in each other’s orbit?”

“Not entirely. I was running late, but after you left, they had tape up the walls, still debating where the window should go.”

“Oh no,” he laughs. “It’s really not that serious.”

“When you called to cancel, they were still debating and I didn’t have the heart to tell you you’d probably spend Valentine’s Day redrawing the blueprints for the addition.” His brow furrows and she laughs again, “There’s a new discussion about a skylight,” she tells him. “They didn’t tell you yet?”

“No,” he sighs. “They probably haven’t committed to it yet or they’re afraid I’ll quit.”

“You might as well just design a room for a teenager—put the window by the tree so he can sneak out in the middle of the night. That seems most considerate.”

“Or he’ll simply have to stay a baby forever.”

“I am sure Mary Margaret would have no arguments about that.”

Leaning back against the booth, Robin grins—talking to Emma is easier than he thought it’d be.

The waitress comes and they order a pizza—settling on pepperoni and jalapeño peppers—and by the time the waitress bring their beers to the table, they’ve fallen into a conversation that’s only mildly uncomfortable.

She asks about his son—a topic he could stay on forever—and so he takes the opportunity to brag. Emma listens and nods along, smiling when she should at cute little anecdotes about the antics of a six year old. She admits that she likes kids, but isn’t sure that she wants them for herself, and when he apologizes for going on and on, she brushes it off, telling him she enjoyed listening and Roland seems like a sweet boy—and that earners her a couple of points in his book.

He shifts the conversation as the pizza arrives, talking about movies and books and TV shows. Outside of a few random things, they don’t have many of the same interests, but in some ways, that’s refreshing and gives them more to talk about—and when Emma suggests a film they could maybe watch together, he takes it as a good sign, and again feels himself relax.

By the time they’ve finished their pizza and ordered slices of cheesecake for dessert, he’s feeling more at ease. And while he’s not entirely sure of its something about her that he likes or something about talking to someone who isn’t his sister or his child, he does like it and he finds himself mentally preparing a list of possible date ideas.

He likes serious films, like documentaries or comedies that he can laugh at, while she prefers mysteries or horror films; he likes leisurely hikes while she prefers rock climbing. He seems himself as a family man while she is more of a loner who occasionally likes company, and they both avoid cooking for themselves whenever they can.

She laughs at that part, telling him she now understands why Ruby is always over, and he smiles and nods and pretends that that’s the real reason.

Their dessert comes as Emma confesses that she’s never even seen a horse up close and the idea of riding one terrifies her—so, naturally he adds horseback riding to his list.

They part ways after they eat, agreeing that they’d like to do something like this again. Emma pulls out her pocketbook and suggests a movie date, and he finds himself nodding in agreement as he adds dinner—and just like that, he has a second date planned.

He spends his walk home weighing what this actually means, and by the time he arrives at his front door, he decides that it doesn’t really matter—the company is nice and he forgot how fun it could be just getting to know someone. Emma might not be someone he ended up with for a long time, but maybe that was the point—and maybe he’d spend the rest of his life with her.

That was the fun of it—the possibilities—and he’d completely forgotten how good it felt to have possibilities, to not have everything charted out and predetermined, to just see where life would take him.

In a lot of ways, Marian had been a wonderful surprise—they’d shared a cab ride on a particularly rainy day, and the only reason he’d been in that cab was because he’d lent his car to Belle so she could take a road trip to visit a friend from high school. By the end of that cab ride, he’d been convinced that he wanted to ask Marian out, and when he helped her out of the cab, he knew they’d have something special.

But that feeling hadn’t taken away from the spontaneity of it all—and maybe, he thought as he turned his key in the lock and braced himself for the onslaught of questions from Belle and Ruby that were sure to come as soon as the door opened—he really could get that lucky as second time… perhaps not with Emma, but someone.

Only time would tell, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, he was actually looking forward to uncertainty that lay ahead of him.

_____

February 17, 1993- Greenwich, Connecticut:

To her relief--and oddly, to her disappointment--Daniel did not propose to her on Valentine’s Day.

He’d taken her to a nice restaurant and they’d had a nice meal, and their dinner was filled with easy conversation. He seemed to sense her anxiety, so he kept things light. They’d gone into New York City for the evening, and he’d planned a walk in Central Part, but the rain foiled those plans, so instead, they rented a few movies and went back to the hotel, ordering ice cream and laying in bed, laughing until their sides hurt, thanks to Cary Grant and movies like Arsenic and Old Lace and Bringing Up Baby.

Daniel was out of town—some business meeting or something that came up a the last minute—so she invited Lily and Mal over to eat the meal she’d prepared.

As always, Lily and Henry went off to play video games—this time, giggling together as they played Duck Hunt in his bedroom while she and Mal settled in the living room with a bottle of wine.

“You should stay the night.”

Mal’s brows arch. “We're not sixteen. We don’t do sleepovers anymore.”

Regina shrugs. “The kids are having fun and it’s sleeting and I want to watch old movies, but I don’t want to alone.”

Mal grins. “Sounds like you’re subbing me in for your boyfriend.”

Regina shrugs. “Or maybe I was subbing my boyfriend in for you. I’m not really sure he’d be into the movie I picked. It’s… kind of a chick flick.”

“What is it?”

“An Affair to Remember. I’m… I’m kind of on a Cary Grant kick, so I got it and then I read the description.”

“That is absolutely a chick flick,” Mal says, nodding as she sighs. “I’ll stay if you give me ice cream.”

“Deal.”

“Do you have that snickerdoodle kind that—“

“That my kid is obsessed with? Of course.”

“Excellent. You get the ice cream and I’ll let Lily know we’re going to stay.” Getting up from the couch, she sighs. “I’m sure this will be an argument.”

“I've got some cookie dough, maybe that can sweeten the deal.”

“Maybe.”

“Henry is going to be thrilled, you know. He loves when Lily’s here… even if she doesn’t want to be.”

“Lily can move in, if you want. I swear, she’s no trouble at all… ever. She’s an absolute delight!”

Regina grins as she gets up. “I really do think she’s a delight.”

“That's because you’re not her mother so she likes you.”

“Things still rough after the smoking incident?”

Mal nods. “Rough is my new normal. This morning she and I got into a fight about eyeliner.”

“Was she wearing too much?”

“No,” Mal says, rolling her eyes. “I was, and apparently me dropping her off at school is embarrassing.”

At that, Regina giggles and shrugs, watching as Mal starts up the stairs.

She retreats into the kitchen and flicks on the radio before flicking on the oven—and all of the sudden the familiar voice of Doctor Archibald Hopper fills the room.

Grabbing the cookie dough from the refrigerator, she listens as he switches topics.

I’m sure you all remember our most famous caller from Christmas Eve, a little boy from Seattle who was worried about his dad not sleeping and being alone…

Looking up, she stares at the radio, listening more intently as she grabs a okie sheet from the drying Araceli and forms little balls of dough.

...I say most popular because since Christmas hundreds of women have called in for his address—hundreds of concerned women who want to help—

Regina’s eyes roll. “Yeah, help themselves into his bed,” she mutters.

Several of you have reached out to check in on him, calling into the station for an update, and while I would love to talk to Sleepless in Seattle again, he has not answered any of my calls…

“He has a name.”

“Who does?”

Regina looks up to see Mal standing in the kitchen. “Oh…”

“Is that that radio program again?”

Reigna nods. “They’re talking about Robin… about Sleepless in Seattle from…”

“Christmas.”

“Yeah? What are they saying?”

“Not much,” Regina says, lowering the volume dial so she can hear Mal, but not turning it down completely. “People are curious about him—“

“People like you.”

For a moment, she just glares. “I suppose.”

“Women have been writing to him.”

At that, Mal’s brow arches. “Soo, you’ve got some competition.”

“No—“

“Regina, come on. It’s not wrong to be curious about him. You heard his story and you felt something—“

“It was a sad story, Mal.”

“I’m not saying that it wasn’t. I’m just saying you felt a connection—“

“That’s a bit strong.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“It’s ridiculous, Mal. I don’t know this man. I heard one story from his life, this one little thing—“

“This one huge thing.”

She shrugs. “Still, it was one thing that has to do with the life of a complete stranger.”

“So?”

“So… I… I’m involved with someone. Someone who is great and—“

“And you spend all of Valentine’s Day hoping wouldn’t propose to you.”

Regina bristles as she lops some Cookie dough onto the sheet. “I’m… I’m just not… not there I don’t want to rush things or—“

“Or maybe, despite the fact that you’re dating a great guy, he’s not the guy for you.” Regina’s shoulders square as she focuses on the cookies, trying to formulate some sort of zinger to reply with that’ll shut the conversation down. But before she can, Mal leans against the counter and completely derails her train of thought. “You should write to him.”

Regina's eyes widen. “You mean...write to…”

Mal’s eyes roll as Regina’s voice trails off. “To Sleepless in Seattle.”

“Robin.”

A grin twists onto her lips “Oh, so you’re a on a first name basis now?”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious. You should write to him.”

“And sound like all the other crazy desperate women who want to bed him? No, thanks.”

“But you’re different.”

“Yeah,” Regina says, nodding as she spoons the last of the cookie dough onto the sheet. “I am different. I have a boyfriend. I shouldn't--”

“Regina--”

“Mal, this is insane. It’s unhealthy it’s--”

“You’re attracted to it. Admit it.”

“He’s a voice on the radio!”

“That you recorded so you could listen to him as a bedtime story.”

Regina’s eyes widen. “Oh god. Mal. I’m just as crazy and desperate as those other women. I’m--”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Mal sighs, taking the cookie sheet from her and sliding it into the over and spinning the timer. “Let’s change the subject. We’ll get some wine and watch a movie, and forget what a psycho you are for a little bit.”

Regina pouts as Mal grabs her hand and a bottle of wine, dragging her back into the living room. Regina curls her legs underneath herself as Mal puts on the movie, and aside from a very short break to take the cookies out of the oven, she doesn’t move--instead, she gets too invested in the movie and finishes off a bottle of wine before the its even over, and all the while, she pictures herself waiting for Sleepless in Seattle--for Robin--on top of the Empire State Building, and how terribly romantic that would be.

She sighs as the credits roll, and when she looks over to Mal, she finds her curled up in the armchair beside her, asleep. “So much for a movie marathon,” she says, setting down her glass and feeling a little wobbly as she stands, moving toward Mal and carefully pulling away the carton of ice cream from her--and when she does, Mal curls into a tighter ball.

She takes the empty wine glasses, bottles and Mal’s now-empty carton of ice cream into the kitchen and sets the on the counter to be dealt with in the morning, and she grins as the handful of cookies left--Lily and Henry obviously came down for seconds, and maybe even thirds. She transfers the rest of the cookies onto a plate and puts the cookie sheet into the sink, again leaving it for morning to clean.

Turning off the light in the kitchen, she goes back to the living room to toss a blanket over Mal, then dims the light and heads up the stairs. She finds Lily and Henry curled up on Henry’s bed, video game controllers still in their hand and the music to Mario Brothers playing as Game Over flashes repeatedly on the TV screen on Henry’s dresser. She turns off the TV and kisses them both on the forehead, pulling away the controllers as she dims Henry’s lamp--and then as she retreats down the hall toward her bedroom, she realizes she’s not tired.

Biting down on her lip, she turns toward her office. For a moment, she just stood there, feeling a bit dizzy as she stared at her Macintosh--and then, drawing in a breath, she pushed herself toward, pressing her fingers to the keyboard to boot it up. Chewing at her lip, she watched as the computer started, and she held her breath as she opened up the Word Processor, then once it was open, all she could do was stare at it.

It was… like magic, she thinks, remembering the soft yet hesitant way he described that very first moment he knew that he was in love with his wife--and it made her heart ache in the best possible way.

Pulling out her chair, she sat down at the computer and started to type…

Dear Sleepless in Seattle, she types, grimacing as she looked at the words. They sounded so.... Impersonal. And then she rolled her eyes. How else would it sound, writing to someone who didn’t even know she existed.

I’ve never done something like this before.

She blinks and rolls her eyes. “Of course, you haven’t--and neither has all the other psychos out there who are writing to him.” With a sigh, her head dips forward and her face falls into her hands, and she can’t do it--she can’t write this letter, much less send it. So, she powers down her computer and goes to sleep.

#oq ff #outlaw queen #advent 2018

1 note · View note

Last Seen Blogs

zoeinflowers

every part of me

dinosaursattheprom

Do The Stars Gaze Back?

mealsthroughdepression

meals through depression

dorka

[dorka]

chateauagc

chateauagc.