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bakugotsundere · 3 years

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Hating Him - Bakugou Katsuki (2)

Bakugo x (black) fem reader

( still can read if you’re not)

sorry if it bothers you, i just felt that my black readers weren’t feeling black as they were reading y/n stories cause i for sure wasn’t

Warning: Smut, Rough sex, hair pulling, name calling, Nsfw 18+

Summary: Bakugo and you have hated each other ever since you met, being on the same track team and having the same friend group didn’t make things any better. you 2 have to act like you like each other for the benefit of the friend group until one day you and him are forced to have movie night with the others and you both have had enough of each other’s shit.

It was now saturday and you had just came home from practice. It was about 6 in the afternoon. You started to run you some bath water, remembering how you’d have to go to the sleep over with Mina and the others. You and bakugou still didn’t get along, it was nothing but you 2 arguing at practice and the team being annoyed. You just couldn’t bring yourself to like him, no matter how hard you tried you just...couldn’t. Ever since you’ve got here, he’s hated you. He knew you were competition and he treated you like-so, even though you were on the same team. He didn’t care and neither did you.

you took off your uniform, stretching before you got into the bath water. the feeling was amazing, your muscles were finally relaxed. The feeling of the bath water brought you ease. You enjoyed this time, since you knew tonight was going to be crazy. You closed your eyes, calming yourself down as you cleared your mind. Frank ocean played on your headphones. You washed up about 4 times before rinsing yourself off with the shower head. You stepped out of your bath tub, dancing like a white lady on those commercials, as weird as it sounds it was the funnest thing ever. Pretty Girl by Clairo played on your headphones now. You dropped your towel, grabbing your shea butter, rubbing it all over your body.

You washed your face, letting it air dry afterwards. You grabbed a 2 piece pajama set that was satin, placing it in your bag. The top and bottoms matched, it was a cream color that was really light. You put on some thigh length socks. Mina had bought the pajama set for the movie tonight. You didn’t know if it fit or not so you brought something with you just in case. you were supposed to change at her house but the boys had to come in their pajamas for some weird reason. You threw some biker shorts on and a tank top that you had cut a little, you put on your nike slides, waiting on Mina to come pick you up. You took out the flexi rods in your hair. the curls were loose since your hair had been so long. It was like mid back legnth. you picked it out a little bit, giving it more volume. You smiled, showing your dimples, loving out it turned out. You knew it’d only last for the weekend though. Your ginger hair was growing on you.

you rubbed a little moisturizer to your face, so it wasn’t dry. Then you applied a little lip gloss and put your apple watch back on and sprayed a little perfume on yourself and putting on some spray on deodorant. you placed the how shoes she got you in the back also. you grabbed your nike slides, putting them on so you wouldn’t be barefooted. You heard a notification pop up on your phone.

Mina> We’re outside. might have to sit on someone’s lap 🙃.

You had your fingers crossed, praying that it wasn’t bakugou and that he had took his own car. You didn’t want to have to sit on anybody’s lap really. You headed out your house, walking towards Mina’s navy blue audi. The windows were tinted so you couldn’t see inside. You opened up the back door to be greeted by Bakugou, “Hi y/n. I’m in love with your hair. i wish my hair was that long.” Yaoyorozu told you and you smiled, “thank you.” you said softly. “Hiiiiii. Bakugou is being quite grumpy right now, don’t worry about him.” Mina said as you noticed Denki in the front seat. Yaoyorozu was on Todorokis lap and Kirishima was sitting in the middle, focused on whatever was in his phone. “Bakugou help her open the trunk so she can put her things in there.”

He sighed, getting out of the car. He was wearing a black shirt along with grey nike sweatpants and a pair of nike slides. Fits him. He followed you to the trunk, as he did, you noticed that the he was more quiet than usual. you smiled, “Hello to you too bakugou.” he stated. “I’m not being friendly to you. They can’t hear us. Don’t pull what you did at practice again.” He told you, all you did was hand him his water bottle after he was forced to run 2 laps around the track field after practice since he had got into a fight and you were just helping him.

“i didn’t do anything, i was trying to be nice dummy. but clearly you didn’t take it that way.” You stated placing your bag inside the trunk. He watched your as your did so, his eyes lingered on your body longer than usual. He closed it and you followed him back to the car, he opened the door, getting back in. “Where will I sit?” you asked and mina looked in the back, sighing. “Maybe sit on bakugo or Kirishimas lap? Bakugou looked like he doesn’t even wanna be here. ask Kirishina.” Mina told you. Kirishima looked at you, giving you a cheeky smile, “Sure, you can-“

Bakugo interrupted him by slapping him upside his head. “Your girlfriend wouldn’t like that.” Bakugo told him giving him a look, kirishima spoke up, “Nevermind I forgot to tell you guys I had a girlfriend.” He stated, bakugou looked at you and you knew that meant you had to sit on his lap. “Yaoyorozu can we umm...switch please?” You asked and she was about to say yes before Bakugos large hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you onto his lap, you closed the door, moving around to make yourself comfortable. “Don’t ever do that again. They’ll suspect that you don’t like me and we can’t have them know that.” He whispered in your ear and you felt butterflies swarm in your stomach, hating how you reacted towards his touch. You didn’t know why it’d mess up things if they found out you two didn’t like each other but you went along with it anyways. “Still wanna switch?” She asked and you shook your head with a small smile, “No, Bakugo should be fine.” You stated. His body was warm unlike yours, which made everything worse cause you had the urge to be up under him. “Everybody ready?” Mina asked and everybody in the car replied with a small yes.

Bakugos hands would squeeze your waist, pulling you down onto his lap more as you would go over pot holes or small bumps in the rode. you’d move around occasionally to a song until bakugo had told you stop moving. You guys were still in the car, just closer than before, you started to feel something pressing against your ass as Mina stopped at a red light. The outline of it was hard, thick and very long. Your cheeks went a bright pink, knowing what it was. It was bakugos little friend, you had caused this. You could feel yourself start to get moist at the feeling of this. You hated how nasty your body reacted to his. Your pussy began to throb as so did his print and you both had to sit there as if you didn’t feel each other’s private areas yearning for each other. you refused to accept it because you hated it. Hated him especially.

Mina pulled up to her house and everyone began to get out, you were about to get out but Bakugou pulled you back down onto his lap. He shifted underneath you, moving up, his hands gripped your inner thigh, “When we get inside this house, forget about this whole car ride. Pretend this shit never happened. Tell anybody about this and i’ll fucking kill you.” He told you, pushing you off his lap. You got out the car shocked at what had just happened but you wanted to forget about what happened just as much as he did.

“Y/n? I missed you so much. I hate having a dorm, i never see you anymore.” you heard a familiar voice say and you realized it was Asui and smiled, giving her a small hug. Asui was a very chill person but she was confused all the time which made her adorable. She had on a green shirt and sweatpants, with her long hair in 2 pigtails. “I miss you too, you should stop by my house some time.” You said excitedly. “Will do.” She told you going into the house. You looked in the trunk, searching for your bag, “What happened to my bag?” you asked. Todoroki nodded his head at the door, “Bakugou took it in with him i think. He’s been acting weird ever since you came to our college.” He said, going into Mina’s house as he mumbled the last part to himself. You had wondered what he meant by “weird” and more importantly what did he do with your bag.

You followed behind him going into her house, Her house was huge, like huge. Her mother had money, so she bought Mina her own house, there was enough space and room in here for all of you. You missed the comforting smell of her house, you hadn’t been here in so long. You looked around, noticing she changed a few things around. “Anybody know where bakugou went?” you asked and everyone shook there head no, you sighed going upstairs, looking in each room, going back down the hall after no luck in finding him your face hit something hard, like real hard. You looked up at what you had hit and it was bakugo, your cheeks turned pink remembering the car ride, “Where’s my bag?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders as he stared down at you, “When i got in, Mina took it from me.” He stated. Ok. This wasn’t as awkward as you expected “Why’d you umm...why’d you grab my bag?” you asked confused on why his hands was touching your stuff.

“Because messing with your shit is fun. Why else?”He asked. “I dislike you.” You told him angrily, trying your hardest to keep your cool. “Sure.” He told you before walking past you. You figured you wouldn’t stress it and went back downstairs into the living room, everyone got settled in, making pallets and grabbing out all the board games. you had told them that you didn’t wanna participate in any games but the card games. They were now starting a game of domino.

Bakugou was making the cookies and you watched him as he did. Your eyes followed his hands, his fingers were long and large. he had two silver rings on the pointer finger of his left hand. “Y/n, since you and bakugo don’t want to participate in any of the games, you can be the chefs for tonight. Make the cinnamon rolls too please.” Denki told you from the couch, snapping your attention away from Bakugou and you laughed softly going into the kitchen, “I do wanna play war with the cards though, so don’t forget about me when the card games come around.” you told him and he nodded his head.

“I could’ve made the cinnamon rolls.” Bakugou told you as you opened the ‘fridge. you rolled your eyes, “yes but they asked me, focus on your cookies idiot.” You replied grabbing them from the refrigerator. “Your mouth is too smart.” He said turning the oven on 350, You grabbed a pan from underneath the cabinet, loading them on the counter between the stove and refrigerator. You turned around, watching him as he placed the cookies in the oven, “so fix it.” you told him, looking him in his eyes, daring him to do something.

“I will.”

you didn’t know what he meant by that but you could tell that it wasn’t good but you didn’t care, what’s the worse that he could do.

You turned back around opening the cinnamon rolls, placing them on the pan after spraying spam onto the pan. You opened the oven, putting the cinnamon rolls inside. steve lacy played loudly on the tv and you danced around in the kitchen as you grabbed the things you needed, loving every part of this, you grabbed the oreos, placing them on the island top counter, along with the pancake mix. they told you to make fried oreos also. Bakugou watched you intensely. His eyes never leaving your dancing body.The only reason you knew how to cook was because your mother was a chef and was very experimental with foods and taught you lots of stuff. You grabbed the wisk, mixing in the water with the pancake mix. The mixing was going by very very slow and there was still chunks.

You started asking yourself what you did wrong until you felt Bakugos hands at your waist. He placed his hand over yours, showing you how to mix, you were about to tell him to move but he whispered something in you ear, “Play along, if they find out we don’t like each other shit will go down hill.” he told you and you sighed nodding your head. You knew he was right, everyone in this group liked each other, and if they found out that you 2 hated each other, things would go left. You knew how fragile this group was.

“Mix in small circles so you’re able to get everything.” He told you with his left hand still at your waist, he was able to mix everything together with ease. “Thank you.” you said softly, you felt yourself start to throb down there again as he pressed hisself against you more. You didn’t know if it was on purpose so you didn’t bother with saying anything. “Did your mother teach you how to cook?” you asked him and he shook his head. “No. I taught myself because I wanted to make food my way instead of hers. It wasn’t nasty or anything, just not what i wanted.” He stated firmly as he started up the grease to fry them in. Sounds like him. You stood next to him, “I still hate you.” He said and you looked up at him, “I hate you too. Trust me, the way i feel about you hasn’t changed.”

He tried to move you out of the way but you removed yourself from his grip, hitting him in his arm. He grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back and bringing his lips to your ear, “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”He warned letting go of your hair harshly, you stood there in aw of what he just had done. There’s no way you were just gonna let him get away with that but what could you possibly do to him?

He walked away from you telling you to watch the grease, he just violated you and you stood there and let it happen. He’s so...so fucking annoying.

...

It was getting late, everybody had wined down. The music was turned off and the movie was on. You and Bakugo hadn’t talked since he did what he did, you decided to avoid him for the night, being in his presence irritated you. He had been so strict on everything tonight as if this was his house when it wasn’t. He told everyone that he didn’t wanna sleep on the couch or ground so he slept in one of the rooms upstairs. Popcorn was everywhere and now it was just a bunch of adults, sleeping wildly across the floors and couches.

You looked around softly laughing at everyone’s positions. Asui was sleep in the recliner, she was cute when she slept. Denki was on the other couch by himself with his feet hanging off the edge and slob coming down his cheek. Mina and Kirishima were on the ground, the 2 of them had been the most tired since they had been play fighting each other all day. Minas foot was in his mouth and kirishimas was in hers. you tried your hardest not to let out an ugly laugh, Yaoyorozu had left, telling us that she had family problems but you all knew she didn’t, she just hated sleeping anywhere that was not her bed. Todorokis head was in your lap, he stayed still when he slept. You got along with Todoroki the most, he was very observant. He tried telling you that Bakugou has been wanting to have sex with you since you came to the university and you almost slapped him for saying that, you knew it was a lie and he was just saying stuff. After that, he laid his head on your thighs asking if you had ever considered being a pillow. at that point you knew that it was time for him to get rest and he soon fell asleep.

Nobody but you had watched the movie all the way through, you had been watching this movie called hansle and grettle. It was very scary but confused you in the end a bit. You removed Todorokis head from your lap, gently placing it on the couch. You slid to the refrigerator, opening it, grabbing the picture of water. You grabbed a wooden cup from the cabinet placing it on the counter and poured the water inside it.

“Why are you up?” You heard a deep, raspy voice say. You jumped in surprise, spilling a little water on your shirt. You sighed turning around, seeing who had just scared the shit out of you. You were met with a wide awoke Bakugo, his hair was a bit messy and you couldn’t ignore the fact that he looked good. You turned back around, ignoring him. You were serious about ignoring him. You went on, drinking your water. “How long are you gonna keep up with this bull shit?” he asked you and you stood there silent, not answering him. You had been put on your satin pajamas after the games were over, bakugou had been upstairs the whole time you were here.

The satin pajamas barely fit but Mina insisted that you still wear them because you looked, “sexy”. Your thighs were all out, and the shirt fit like a crop top instead of a shirt, since your breast were big, the shirt raised up showing your underboob everytime you raised your arms above your head. You still had on your thigh length socks. You drunk the rest of your water, putting the cup in the sink. You placed the picture of water back in the refrigerator and You grabbed some paper towels going to wipe up the water you spilled.

You felt Bakugous presence behind you, “Move. I need a cup.” he told you and you stood there not listening to what he just told you to do. He purposely brushed his length against your ass, as he grabbed a cup, the same one as you. He went to the refrigerator, getting the picture of water, pouring it inside the cup he had. You watched him as he did so, his muscles were showing since he had on a black shirt and the black had fit him so well. Your eyes looked down, seeing his print through his grey sweatpants. It was huge, like big and you wondered how anybody could even take that inside them. Let alone get the tip in. Your eyes wandered to his hands, You had a hand kink and his hands fit into it. His fingers were neat, he had clear coat of polish on them. His fingernails were clipped to the perfect size. He took care of his hands. Veins popped out his hands slightly and his fingers were long. You found yourself getting moist as your mind wandered to how good his fingers would feel inside you.

His cup being sat down on the counter snapped you out of your fantasy. You looked back up to be met with his Vermillion eyes. He caught you staring, you hurriedly turned your head embarrassed. You hated yourself so much for this, for even thinking about such lewd things when it came to him. You hated him and him being so fucking perfect didn’t change that. You felt him behind you, this time his hands were at your waist. He positioned your hips, now your ass was rubbing against his cock. You took in a deep breath, restraining yourself from saying anything to him, “Its not nice to stare.” He told you in your ear as he moved your ass around his length. You stayed quiet, trying not to let a moan escape your lips. “Still giving me the silent treatment, are we?” His hand went across your bum, leaving a stinging sensation. You gasped, “C’mon y/n, say something before i go fucking crazy.” He told you as he played with the band of your shorts. You stayed quiet wanting to know what his crazy was. “You’re so god damn stubborn.” He said in your ear as you felt his hand press against your stomach, he began to place kisses on your shoulder and neck, feeling him sucking a little too hard, a small moan escaped your lips and you felt him smile against your skin, “I thought you hated me?”

You turned around to face him, “I-I hate you. Don’t ever for a second get to thinking that I don’t.” you told him as you pulled him closer towards you, crashing your lips against his, your small hands placed at his cheeks, loving how warm he was. He kissed back with more aggression, You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t like him but it was getting harder to believe as your body yearned for his touch and now the need to feel his hands all over you grew. He pulled back and tilted his head, “finally ready to fucking talk? i’ve got a lot to say darling.” he said as his hands squeeze your waist, you looked him in his eyes, scared of this eye contact but loving how beautiful his eyes were. “Like what?” you asked. His large hands traveled down to your ass, kneading it almost. “I hate you. hate you so fucking much but...” he continued to kiss you along your neck. “but i only hate you because i want you.” he stated in between kisses, “Nobody has ever made me want them,” his hands found there way to your breast, his large hands squeezing them, “but — god dammit— i’ve been wanting you ever since you walked onto that track field,” his hands were soon replaced by his mouth, your shirt now raised and your breast being sucked on, as if he was a baby, your moans were low and quiet. His eyes, looking up at you as he did so, watching you as you struggled to keep your moans to yourself.

Your back arched a little, and he brung his lips back up to yours. Everything was so heated and out of control but you liked it, so much pent up anger had led to this and fuck, it was good. His hands tugging at the hem of your satin shorts, wanting to touch something more private. Your breathing became heavy and you realized how far you and him were willing to take this. He pulled his ring off of his fingers, placing them on yours, “Can’t have them on while i finger fuck you so I want you to wear it.” He stated and you nodded your head. His hands found themselves inside your shorts and he dragged his middle finger between your pussy lips, “Someone you hate shouldn’t make you this wet darling.” He stated and the feeling of his thumb brushing against your throbbing clit made you moan almost too loudly. He smirked, already knowing this was the sensitive spot. He started to rub it faster and your lips parted as you held onto his arm. He knew how crazy this was driving you because with each circular motion, your pussy got wetter and wetter.

His two middle fingers pressed at your entrance as he brushed his thumb against your now swollen clit. You wanted this, needed it almost as he teased you. “Bakugo. I-I need you to...” you pleaded softly. “Need me to what. It’s not that fucking hard to say. C’mon.” you looked him in the eyes, he looked at you, “I need your permission. Tell me what the fuck you want y/n.” He spat out and your eyes fluttered at how he made wanting permission seem so aggressive but at the same turn a huge turn on, “I-I want your fingers inside of me.” You moaned, and he smiled shoving his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and you placed your hand over your mouth, letting out a muffled moan. “Wasn’t that hard to say, was it?” He asked as he brung his fingers in and out of you, your fingers digging into his forearms, as quiet moans left your mouth repeatedly. He kept eye contact with you the whole time, making sure he saw how pretty your face looked when you moaned just for him. He started going faster and your brown pupils dilated, “I-I’m about to cum.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear but soft enough so that the others wouldn’t. “Shhh...cant let the others hear you now can we?” He asked and you shook your head no as his fingers grazed against your walls at a rapid pace.

Your legs got weak as his fingers bent up inside you when he reached your spot. His name was moaned loudly from your lips, followed by him removing his hands from out of you and bringing them to his lips, tasting the juices from your pussy on his fingers. he looked at you before placing his fingers deep down your throat. He pulled them out, wiping his fingers on your cheek, “I need a taste.” He stated and you shook your head no, “That’s too far. They’ll hear us.” You stated looking over into the living room. Bakugo grabbed your chin, making you face him, he kissed you again, this time more passionate and slow but still rough, he bit your bottom lip, pulling it. “They won’t hear if you stay quiet. This is all on you.” He replied and you stayed quiet as you felt his hands grab you and turned you against the island top counter , this was closer to the living room, too close almost. The couch was almost right in front of you, only the other side of the table in the way and you could see Todoroki sleeping along with the others.

Bakugou didn’t care and acted as if they were not there. He made you bend over a little and he pulled off your panties, your juices now not having anything to soak through at all. He rubbed your ass roughly before you felt him go down, “so fucking pretty.” He said underneath his breath before you felt his tongue glide between your folds, a groan found it’s way out of your mouth. He started to use his whole mouth, making sure he tasted every part of your pussy. Quiet moans and whimpers leaving your mouth everytime he sucked at your clit, making it even more swollen. He lifted your leg across the counter, his tongue finding its way back to your clit, licking it repeatedly. You never had felt this before, this was something new to you coming from Bakugou. You knew he was experienced but not this much. His mouth pleased you as his hands gripped your ass so he could get a clear view of your pussy. His tongue found itself pressing against your entrance and you moaned louder than expected, he slapped your ass, “Be quiet.” He lowly growled and you gasped as he went back to move his tongue in and out of you, “Bakugo...I’m about to-

“No you’re not.” He stated and you looked back at him confused, he continued to eat you, “I-I can’t...” you breathe out, “Hold it. I want to see your pretty face when you cum, I need to taste everything.” He told you as he turned you around and placed you on the counter. His hand pressed at your pelvic area. He placed 3 fingers inside of you, knuckles deep and your eyes went wide as your back arched. You couldn’t go much longer. You lost it when his lips sucked at your puffy clit. His wrist, thrusting his fingers in and out of you fast and rough at a uncontrollable pace at the same time. Your hands found themselves gripping his hair and he looked up at you, seeing sweat drip down from your face and your curls all messy now, this sight made his cock throb and want to have himself inside of you even more but he just couldn’t get enough of your taste. You looked down at him and you could feel yourself reach your climax, your started to tremble underneath his touch and a foreign liquid came out of your body as you let out a series of loud moans, not caring if you had awoken anyone. Bakugo licked up every juice through a sly smile. He looked up at you, “You didn’t tell me you were a squirter.” He said pulling your panties back over your pussy, kissing your inner thigh gently before going up to kiss you and you tasted yourself on his lips.

When you pulled away from him and looked down at his print, he was really on hard now. You wondered if he’d be willing to take it that far but you didn’t just wanna leave him hanging. You looked up at him, “I...I” you tried to find words but nothing would come out and he placed the palm of his hand on your small cheek, “I don’t need anything in return. Tasting you was more for me than it was for you.” He stated and you played with your fingers, “Are you sure?” You asked and he nodded his head at the living room, you turned around to see Todoroki starting to wake up, “I don’t think you’d keep quiet if i fucked you right here but I’m sure this was enough for you to control that smart mouth of yours when you’re around me.” He stated. “Bakugo-

“I wanted a taste and I got what I came here for. See you at practice.” He said in your ear, making you realize how much you still hated him, “I still don’t like you.” You told him and he chuckled deeply sending chills throughout your body, “Are you trying to tell me or yourself?” He responded and your cheeks heated up and you got quiet. You watched him as he walked back upstairs, you could’ve sworn you saw him wiping your remaining juices off corners of his mouth with his thumb and sucking it off as he left you. realizing what he asked you. You put back on your shorts and you watched as Todoroki got up and came into the kitchen sleepily. “Why are you up?” He asked as He came around to you half asleep. he was about to step into the puddle of your juices on the floor. “Todoroki don’t-

He stepped into it, getting his sock wet, “Who the fuck spilled water and didn’t get it up?” He asked and you acted as if you didn’t know, knowing that the mess came from you, “I-I don’t know but I’ll get it up.” You said softly, realizing that Bakugo didn’t take his rings back and that you’d have to give them back in the morning.

#bakugou smut #mha smut #bakugou imagine #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x black reader #bakugo x reader

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its-toasted · 2 years

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Brisky brick [2.27.22]

The sky's not as damn here but it's nice to be home. OC was very key, but I've concluded that I just need more time off lol. Looks like I'll be out west late April, might do an extra week on top to stay over there. Quickly torching my frail savings no biggie.

I knew OC would be pretty dead, being offseason post-pandemic. It was worse than anticipated, but I love pretending like all the space is for me. It's funny, most open hotels had packed lots. I know garages weren't stacked, but people were there, and the heads outside said otherwise. I think plenty just hang in the room, there's much less to do when it's cold and rainy and closed.

OC was quiet, I like that. I can do cold-rainy, but closed was rough. Been to OC maybe ten or twelve times, surreal to see things empty and abandoned that hard. The stroll up-down Baltimore and Philly Ave, each strip might have one or two stores open, but on many none. Such a contrast. I thought I'd feel like I wasted bread going where I've been many times, but nah. 3-hour 1-way is kinda perf.

I wish the weather had been better, rain wasn't slated when booking. But I got a great deal on lodging, hotel was like a whole-ass plaza. Would've been dope had all parts been open.

The few good convos I had were at the hotel or copping food drink. I only got dank joints. Lobster linguine, good cheesesteak, chopped salmon salad, shawarma, crepes. I ended up getting real grub, but non-fried food was crazy to find. I expected suss, it was worse. I'm missing a dish. I drank a barrel of water and half of Jameson. I don't drink regularly anymore because I swear to you that's the right move for me, but I felt sunny the whole trip. Met someone at the hotel bar who we'll call Bailey for the Jameson. We only talked for 5 ish, she was cool. I like her face. Dark-brown hair, my shit. That was my fave chat I guess, I like the way that ended. But she was waiting on a boy and I had food to pickup. I stamp Jersey people are the same as us.

On the boardwalk or streets though, it's all just a nod or hey or often nothing at all. A few people were chatty, asking chipper shit like if I'm cold since I'd be out in a sweater mid-morning, cause it got warm by the afternoon. I spent the daylight walking eating drinking shopping. Revisiting all these spaces. Brought 6 books and read 2, Ada's Bright Dead Things and Eduardo's Slow Lightning again. I didn't read as much as I'd hoped to. Brought 5 bananas, 4 are still so green.

The break was so crucial to clear my head and declutter. I tried to stay off my phone and even not write things for the most part. I did try to take more pictures than I do these days. I feel like I'm slowly crumbling under work volume right now, like I'm in a constant state of refreshing to do more. Lately I'm just uninspired, and displeased with creative shit I write. So little is coming from that deep craving, like I gotta do it. I'm word-burnt somehow. Need a longer reset. Just have to last to April or May. OC will be alive then but I'll be elsewhere

#personal #oooh. dish i forgot was oc eggs benedict. heat #oc

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traincat · 3 years

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Can you explain the fantastic four volumes? Why are they separated like that, are they different continuities, should i read them all, who wrote which, and such? They‘re very confusing to me

Welcome to the terrible world of comics renumbering, aka the reason we have volumes. The long and short of it is, at some point, the big comics publishers got it into their heads that more people would buy their comics if they had easy jumping spots, the logic behind this being wouldn't it be more friendly for new readers to pick up an issue #1 than an issue #389? Which, sure, in theory, until you have, for example, six different Fantastic Four #1s, some of which were published very close together, and then no one knows at first glance where the hell they should start. But Marvel persists in this practice anyway because for some reason they think that one of these days it's actually going to work. So yes, unless otherwise noted -- because volumes are a publishing quirk and not a specific continuity quirk, so for example something like Spider-Gwen, which until recently took place out of the main continuity, has multiple volumes -- they're in main continuity, with the notable exception of Fantastic Four v2, kind of. I'll get to it. As to who wrote what, it varies -- some volumes have a ton of writers on them, some only have the one, like Fantastic Four volumes 4 and 5. It kind of depends on the length of the volume. Should you read them? It depends on if you're looking to be a completionist or not. If you're still confused, that's because it's unfortunately a feature of this particular system, not a bug. It is not a new reader friendly solution to having a huge series with hundreds upon hundreds of issues, despite the fact that Marvel just will not stop doing it.

If you look at most long running Marvel series, you'll probably note that most of their "volume ones" are actually extremely long -- Fantastic Four v1, for example, lasts from issues #1-416. The first renumbering takes place in 1996, and this one kind of has a good reason behind it. In the mid-90s, Marvel was, how can I say this nicely? A complete dumpster fire, and I don't mean from a storytelling perspective. In 1996, Marvel temporarily outsourced production of two major titles -- Fantastic Four and the Avengers -- to the studios of former employees Jim Lee and Rob Liefeld. This outsourcing took the form of what appeared to be a "hard reset", especially for the Fantastic Four, who during v2 got an updated '90s origin story with updated '90s costumes and updated '90s personalities, essentially brought back to the beginning of their continuity without memories of their previous iterations. This is because, as it was later explained, though the Fantastic Four and the Avengers seemed to die in the main continuity, they were actually sheltered in a bubble reality by Franklin Richards. It's. You know. It is what it is. So essentially, volume 2 of Fantastic Four (1996) takes place in a separate continuity -- you can skip it and not miss much. Volume 3 (1998) picks back up in the main continuity when the Fantastic Four return to their own continuity and try to pick their lives back up while the world has moved on without them. It's VERY good, from a characterization standpoint -- a lot of volume 3 is written by Chris Claremont, who handles all the characters with an extreme amount of nuance. From a plot perspective -- I mean, it's totally fine as long as you don't care about anything making sense ever. Claremont was not here to write a coherent plot; he was here to write extremely an extremely insightful and sensitive Johnny Storm, and I applaud him for that.

This is where the numbering gets messy again, though! Because you know what looks really dramatic on the front cover of your comic book? A big ISSUE #500. So when volume 3 was approaching what would be, in what's called legacy numbering, issue #500, they switched the numbering again. Fantastic Four goes from Fantastic Four v3 #70 straight to Fantastic Four #500. There is no Fantastic Four v3 #71, something that can be confusing for new readers who are JUST trying to follow a book from issue to issue. From my perspective, I'm generally in favor of a return to legacy numbering, because it really is so much simpler to just have whatever number the issue actually is on the cover instead of having to be like "Fantastic Four issue #499 is actually Fantastic Four v3 #70." But Marvel hates simplicity! Loathes it! We need more new readers! Who definitely will pick up anything labeled #1 and not worry about THAT WHOLE MESS behind them! So while Fantastic Four retained the legacy numbering for 88 issues, it soon switched things up again when the entire title of the book was renamed. When Johnny dies in the Negative Zone in Fantastic Four #587, the book was renamed from Fantastic Four to FF (just the initials) to reflect the change. This is a creative decision that I don't personally hate -- I think it makes its point well -- but also it really makes this entire period of Fantastic Four hell to read when the book comes back with Fantastic Four #600 after 12 issues of FF, but the FF title also remains, and the two are supposed to be read interchangeably at that point. Good luck figuring out how that one's supposed to go on first glance and thanks a lot, Marvel.

After Hickman's run wrapped up with Fantastic Four #611, Marvel entered a period where it was relaunching a lot of its main series basically every year. This is why there's a Fantastic Four v4 (2013), closely followed by Fantastic Four v5 (2014). These are basically one writer brief runs that are encapsulated in their own volumes for very little reason, especially since towards the end of Fantastic Four v5 it reverts to legacy numbering once again, with the last four issues of the run being Fantastic Four #642-645. Congratulations, nobody could have thought of a worse system. Then there came the three year Fantastic Four publishing ban (a real thing that happened) and when the book relaunched in 2018, it was with Fantastic Four v6, which is still using its own numbering, with issue #36 just released. It's essentially like that scene from Pacific Rim about how the kaiju keep coming faster and faster, except, you know, with comic book runs.

So here's a very basic reading order: Fantastic Four #1-416 -> Fantastic Four v2 #1-13 -> Fantastic Four v3 #1-70 -> Fantastic Four #500-588 -> FF #1-12 (at which point FF separates into its own book with three separate volumes) -> Fantastic Four #600-611 -> Fantastic Four v4 #1-16 -> Fantastic Four v5 #1-14 -> Fantastic Four #642-645 -> Fantastic Four v6 #1-36.

That brings you up to the present, not counting series like Secret Wars (2015) which slots in between #645 and Fantastic Four v6 #1, or things like annuals, which are issues published sometimes annually that may be standalones or may be important to the main plot, you can never be sure. Comics are terrible.

As for whether or not to read all of that, like I said above, it kind of depends on you as a reader, whether you're a completionist, whether you bounce hard off certain decades or creators, etc. There's really no one right way to tackle a comic series that spans 681 issues and six decades, especially not when the publisher doesn't exactly make it easy for anybody to keep track of what exactly they're supposed to be reading next. I do hope that clears up some of the confusion for you, though, even though the truth is the way a lot of American big two comics are published are, very simply, in an incredibly confusing, extremely new reader unfriendly, archaic way.

#*replies #traincat talks comics

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

The Art of Benefits

➜ Words: 9.8k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut, FWB!AU

➜ Summary: There's only one aspect of your life that's missing: sex. But you know yourself. You catch feelings as quickly as you catch colds. But when your friend arranges a meeting with a certain Park Jimin, you'll become inclined to learn the craft of detachment, aka. the art of benefits.

➜ Warning: sex, sexual discussions, toys, sucking dick, period sex, etc.

cr.

[2nd Year Fall Semester] Life as a sophomore wasn’t shabby. Assignments, papers and midterms came and went with decent grades that you eventually forgot about. Lectures, club meetings, and studying took most of your time too. But Christmas was arriving and that meant it was sweater weather. It also meant that snow was dusting from the sky and you were watching couples cozying up and keeping each other warm from across the dining center. It was unfair really. You were cold too. In fact, most of the time you happen to be cold. And while relationships were too much of a time commitment for you to take on, you deserved a cuddle buddy just as much as the next person. Or a fuck buddy. Either works really. You’ve never been opposed to a friends with benefits relationship. The only problem is, it would never work for you. But if you somehow learnt to detach your emotions, it could be the most efficient thing yet. After all, good sex with another warm body was the only aspect in your life that you were missing. “I mean it’s possible. A lot of people start friends with benefits relationships on campus,” Wendy says as she stuffs her face with her sub sandwich and muses mid-chew, “There’s actually a lot of candidates to choose from.” You’re exasperated at her nonchalance. As if it’s as easy as going to the supermarket and picking someone up. “Who?!” You need someone who would be on the same page as you, with the same priorities, a good sex partner who wouldn’t catch feelings either. But frankly, you don’t know that many people. “Well, what about that guy from your class that you were crushing on? Didn’t you say he was super smart? Might help you on your assignments too.” “Namjoon?” You shake your head. “He’s got a girlfriend.” “Okay. What about that older guy in your board games club?” “No. Seokjin’s graduating next semester.” Wendy hums, eyes flickering around the dining hall center as she contemplates. “How about Yoongi? From what you’ve told me, he seems pretty cool.” You loll your head to one side and stab your sweet and sour chicken. “I’m not going to sleep with someone from work. That sounds like a disaster waiting.” “Jungkook?” “That’s weird. We went to the same elementary school together.” You can still remember his bowl cut hair as clear as day, and not to mention, the two of you share a group of friends. If things go downhill, it would be a complete mess. The epitome of inefficiency. Which is counterproductive to your goal. “Taehyung?” At this point, Wendy’s just listing out random people that you know, but you play along just for amusement. “Nah. Yena has a crush on him.” She takes another clean bite of her sandwich. “What about that guy that works at that McDonalds that you find cute. What’s his name? Hugo? Howard?” “Hoseok,” you correct with a feigned glare that makes her smile. “And that’s a big fat no. He doesn’t even know I exist. What am I supposed to do? Waltz up to him and ask to be fuck buddies?” She grins. “Well, I mean—” “It wouldn’t work,” you deadpan before she laughs and in turn, makes you giggle too. The chatter of the room settles in your ears as background noise. You gaze out the window to the sparkling snow piles that reflect the lampposts soft, white light. The sun has long fallen even though it’s only six p.m. The low lights peeking through the somber clouds covering the horizon does little. You dread the thought of having to venture out into the cold and catch the bus home. You don’t notice how Wendy’s looking at you while she sips on her water. Not until she hums. “You know what? I know someone I could hook you up with.” Your brow cocks and the corner of your mouth twitches. “Is he a fuckboy?” Your long time friend shrugs with a glint in her eyes that makes you unsure if she’s serious or not. Wendy once joked that she had a boyfriend from Northern Canada and convinced you hard enough that you legitimately believed her for a good month. So you can never be quite certain when it comes to her. For all you know, she could just be making it up to entertain you. “Sort of, but he’s a nice one.” Wendy stays vague. “He was my lab partner.” You stare at her and when her expression remains blank, you scoff. “Sure, sure,” you draw out the syllables with a small laugh and bat the air with your hand just to end the conversation. And when it’s never discussed again, Wendy moving on to tell you a story about something she suddenly remembers, you’d one day come to realize that was a terrible, terrible mistake. // That one day is now. 3:50pm. Wendy: hey i set up a meeting what that guy 3:50pm. Wendy: third floor library 3:50pm. Wendy: he’s in a red hat btw The text comes right when you’re leaving your last lecture of the day. 3:51pm. Y/N: what guy 3:53pm. Wendy: your future fwb 3:53pm. Y/N: ?????????????????????????????????/ 3:53pm. Y/N: ???????????????? 3:54pm. Y/N: wtf i wasn’t SERIOUS 3:54pm. Wendy: wat 3:54pm. Y/N: I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING 3:56pm. Wendy: lmao too late 3:56pm. Wendy: at least meet him he’s waiting sis 3:54pm. Y/N: can’t you cancel????????? 3:57pm. Wendy: n a h You nearly burst an artery in your temple at the emojis and memes she spams to you. 3:59pm. Wendy: I already told him the gist btw 4:00pm. Wendy: don’t chicken out With no other choice, you make a u-turn and head towards the library with too many thoughts swirling inside your brain. Chances are this stranger is going to see you, think you’re ugly as shit and try to back out of it. It’s going to be awkward as all hell and you’re not sure you’re ready to have this traumatizing memory for the rest of your life. Then again, you wonder how Wendy even convinced this dude to meet up. If he’s really that easy going. If this is a typical thing people do now. Or maybe Wendy showed a picture of you on your insta and he agreed afterwards — it wouldn’t be the first time she did that, much to your embarrassment. But you hope it’s the latter case. At least that eliminates the possibility of him trying to backpedal his way out of it after seeing your face. You also wonder how the hell you’re going to find him. The library is full of students, the rowdy ones and the studious ones being disturbed by them. You wonder what he looks like, what he’ll be like. Third floor. Male. Red hat. You arrive at the appropriate floor and begin scanning the premise, walking around as your eyes sweep the area. Almost immediately you catch a brunette hunched over and on his phone by the table. He’s wearing a red cap on backwards, purple tee shirt. He has a frat boy aesthetic. Not really the type you go for. Looking over him, you round the computers, bookshelves and tables. But finding no one else with a red hat on the third floor, you sharply inhale and approach the boy with his fluffy cheek rested in his hand, arm propped up on the table lazily. Scrolling through his phone. “Excuse me.” Your voice is light and hesitant as if you were asking help from someone at the front desk and not seeing if this was a potential fuck buddy. It’s mortifying to say the least. His head lifts, brown eyes catching the lights. You clear your throat. “Wendy…” “Oh. You’re her, right?” He smiles and thankfully, doesn’t seem to be disappointed. “Wendy’s friend?” “Yeah. I’m Y/N.” “Jimin.” Now that you get a closer look, he’s kind of cute. But you don’t dwell. Or look him in the eye. It feels like a job interview. But worse. “You were Wendy’s lab partner?” “That’s me.” He pockets his phone. “I’m a kines major. You?” “I’m in the arts faculty. Political science.” “Cool, cool.” Jimin nods and then gets to business without any shame, “So Wendy already told me about it. You’re looking to have a friends with benefits relationship?” “Yeah….about that….” “I’m down if you are.” His hand opens up, gesturing to you. You’re not sure how you feel about how laid-back he is, but he remains upfront which you suppose is the right thing to do. “I have a dorm room in the Sierra building by the engineering faculty building if you know where that is.” “I’ve walked past it before.” “Cool. Anyway, my last f.w.b. ended two months ago and I kind of miss it,” he quickly clarifies, “The sex, I mean.” You’re speechless and contemplating if you really want to do this. You know if it works out, it’ll be fairly efficient. You’ve always gotten off by yourself and while it works, it’s not something you’d call completely satisfying. Having someone’s help— good help — is a change you’ve been considering. But a friends with benefits situation has always been one of those ‘what if’ scenarios. You've just never had an opportunity like this to make it actually happen. Jimin senses your hesitance and leans forward. He lowers his volume. “Are you a virgin? Cause I’m cool with—” You scoff. “No. I’m not. I just...haven’t done something like this before.” “Friends with benefits?” His question is answered by your body language. “It’s not bad. Safer than one night stands and more consistent too. You don’t have to go out and find someone every time you want to have sex. And it’s a low level commitment.” The corner of your mouth pulls and you agree. “It’s efficient. But...I need time to think about it.” “Sure. Tell me when you make up your mind. I’ll give you my number.” He opens his hand again and you pass him your phone. He quickly types it in. “Take your time.” // And you do. You weigh the pros and cons against each other, considering every possibility and all the consequences. Part of you wants to just go for it. The same part that once decided in high school at midnight that bangs would be a hot look on you. (It wasn’t). The part of you that dyed your hair blue that one summer on a whim. The part that doesn’t want to think and wants to jump head first into things. Jimin made a lot of good pointers too and you’re certain this would be a good outlet. An experience. It helps that he’s quite attractive too and seems to be trustworthy and rational. Yet, part of you wonders if it would be a bad decision. There’s a chance that you might catch feelings. For you, it wouldn’t be unheard of either. You have a tendency to catch feelings as fast as you catch colds. And you already know that’s the demise of these kinds of relationships. Once a party gets involved too deep, it’s game over. There’s nothing but heartbreak. The only way it would work is if you minimize your interactions with him. The less attached you are, the less likely you are to develop feelings for him since the only way you would like anyone is if you knew them. So the less you know, the better the outcome. It’s an equation. It’s the art of the benefits. And if that works, if you master the art, it would solve every potential issue. The dorms for sophomores are bigger than the ones for first year freshmen. Instead of a single room with two beds on either side by the walls, there are private bedrooms with just a shared bathroom, a main living space and kitchen. “Bathrooms are over here,” Jimin gestures. There’s one room at the end of the hall and another one beside his. “Both my roommates are out, so you don’t have to worry. They’re pretty nice.” You feel awkward lingering at the entryway with your backpack on. You clear your throat. “Can I get a drink?” “Oh yeah. There’s new water bottles by the sink, I think, and there’s orange juice in the fridge if you’d like.” “No, I mean, do you have anything alcoholic?” you correct and he blinks at you owlishly before smiling. You drop your bag and find it in the fridge, a whole vodka bottle. You fill a shot up with a glass on the drying rack. The clear liquid burns as it travels to the back of your throat. The bitter taste nearly makes you gag, but you feel your face warm and you ease even more, knowing it works. In the meanwhile, Jimin studies you, standing from across the kitchen island. His hands are casually dug into the pockets of his gray sweats. “We won’t have to follow through with this, you know. I’m fine either way.” “No,” you quickly refute, irrationally afraid he’s changed his mind. And the words spill out of you as you cringe, “I’m horny as shit, I’mjustnervous.” The guy smiles, eyes slightly crinkled when he does so. “Of what?” “A lot of things.” You don’t pour a second shot even though you kind of want to. But you have things to do tomorrow, so you can’t nurse a hangover and you most certainly don’t want to be drunk while doing this. “If you didn’t notice, I don’t do this often.” While you’re at it, you tell him, “I don’t know how to suck dick.” He leans against the counter, grinning. “Okay. I don’t mind.” “Also, if you haven’t noticed either, my ass is kind of deflated.” Jimin shrugs. “I’m more of a boob man anyway.” You narrow your eyes, not sure if he’s lying or trying to make you feel better. But there’s no time to dwell when he seriously asks— “Do you still want to do this?” It takes a second for you to muster your courage. And once you do, you know you won’t back down. “All right. Let’s do this!” You walk into his room like you’re about to go fight off a monster. Behind you, Jimin grins and it takes a good moment for him to calm you down. “Are you okay with kissing?” he asks, door shut and distance closed. He’s intimately close and you nod. Finally, your brain stops overthinking and you let yourself feel. Jimin’s lips are full and plush, and they’re good against yours. The soft smacking fills his room. The two of you kiss until your lips part and he begins to lick into your mouth, tongue entering without much hesitation. You fall back onto the mattress, noticing that the bed’s been made sloppily, but better than your own. The pair of you keep kissing and he hovers over you, capturing you against the sheets. Pathetically enough, you already begin to feel your center throbbing and it’s a relief when you both get rid of your clothes. He doesn’t talk much — doesn’t give much commentary or even dirty talk. But you don’t mind. All you’re offering after all is soft sighs and quiet moans. Jimin squeezes your breasts and fingers you for a good minute. He’s surprised to see how wet you are, even letting out an ‘oh shit’, but you make no efforts to come up with an excuse. The stretch feels good from his thick fingers, but you bet it’ll feel good around his girthy cock too. He goes to grab a condom from his drawer, but pauses. “Do...you want me to eat you out?” “I’m good,” you politely decline, afraid it might be too intimate. You’re not sure where the lines are drawn, but it’s something you’ll have to gauge while you go. “Do you want me to suck your dick? You might have to teach me though.” The corner of his mouth tugs. “I’m good too.” As Jimin rips open the condom package, you turn yourself around and get onto all fours. He doesn’t protest and when he enters you, it feels good enough for you to fall forward into the pillows. His cock is of average size, but he’s girthy and your cunt stretches to accommodate him. He groans in his throat when you clench — and the sound gets you off, making you squeeze again. Jimin pounds into you, his pelvis hitting the meat of your ass, cock drawing in and out against your tight, warm walls. You do your best to meet his thrusts halfway, jerking your hips back and you stifle your moans with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. The sloppy sounds of slapping and the creaking of his bed makes you glad his roommates are gone. And while the sex is not mind-blowing per se, it’s still good. Enough that you climax once he rubs your clit several times and he unloads into the condom too. It’s easier than you thought it would be. Not a big deal whatsoever. It took ten minutes in total and it felt good. It’s just sex — and that’s exactly it. Just sex. The very lesson of the art of benefits. You pick up your clothes off the floor, slipping them back on. “I gotta get going.” There’s no snuggling, no cuddling, no pillow talks. And it doesn’t seem like he minds whatsoever. “‘Kay.” Jimin picks up his phone off his bedside table to check his texts and waves goodbye without even looking at you. You leave, walking yourself out and humming as you stride down the hall. You’re glad you went through with it.

[2nd Year Winter Semester] You run there with your sandwich stuffed in your cheek. By the time Jimin opens the door, you’re still chewing while panting. It’s a comical sight by the way he smiles at you. You’re already winded before anything’s started. “I hadn’t eaten yet and I needed to get my blood sugar up.” Jimin’s lips are quirked. “We can always eat beforehand, you know. There’s food in the fridge.” “Nah, I’m good.” Having meals with your friends with benefits is the last thing on your mind. He shrugs. “Suit yourself.” You use his bathroom, releasing your bladder and rinsing your mouth thoroughly. You know yourself and you’re not a novice on how these relationships work. The less interaction and knowledge you have about him, the more you can keep your distance. “G-God,” he exhales shakingly, hand fisted in your hair. “You’re getting b-better at this….” Jimin watches through heavy lids as you’re slobbering over his cock. He tries his best to watch, but when you run your tongue over the weeping slit at the bulborous head, his eyes shut and his head naturally knocks back. You’ve gotten better at a lot of things in the few months that have passed, namely sucking dick, but your jaw aches and you wonder when he’s going to cum. It’s worth it though. You might be the one kneeling in front of him, but you feel powerful. It’s too easy to make him crumble. To make him moan like that. It makes you wet to hear him and knowing you could bite off his dick or make him lose a load, the sheer power eggs you on. Like you were taught, you inhale, ease your muscles and take Jimin as far as you can. He chokes as his cock hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflexes threaten your endeavour but you keep them at bay and Jimin’s hand in your hair tightens. Especially when you swallow. “Fuck. I-I’m going to cum.” Thank god. Finally! Usually, you let off so he can cum elsewhere (god forbid in your hair) or if he accidentally does it in your mouth, you spit it out on tissue. But this time, you made a commitment to yourself. You came here with a goal. So you inhale again and deep throat him, sucking as much as you can. With his curly pubic hair grazing your nose, Jimin cums. His groans staccato. His cock twitches. And you swallow the bitter, white fluid that comes out in ribbons. After a few seconds, you finally withdraw. Jimin opens his eyes, staring at you in wonderment. There are strands of saliva from between his softened cock to your lips and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Not gonna lie.” You clear your throat and swallow down the remaining taste. “That’s really nasty.” Jimin bursts out laughing. “Thanks.” “It’s the least I can do.” You stand up, shaking your left leg awake. It feels like pins and needles when you step around. “I’ve sat on your face like twice already.” You toss Jimin his pants off the ground and you get your cardigan back on. “You wanna come over on Friday?” “Uh…” You grab your phone from your jacket that’s also been discarded and check your calendar. “Sorry. Can’t. I’m busy on that day.” His brows raise, but he doesn’t question it. “How about Saturday?” you offer. “No. I have a kines exam scheduled.” Your face twists in disgust. “On a Saturday?” “Yep. I know. It sucks.” You sympathize, but you’re also surprised. “I didn’t know you were a kines major.” “What? I thought I told you.” “Guess I forgot.” You put yourself back together and a thought strikes you. Your eyes light up and you turn to your friend with glittering eyes. “Does that mean you can crack bones? I’ve always wanted to go to a chiropractor since my lower back always hurts. You should crack it for me.” Jimin grins. “Sorry, I don’t know how to do that. They don’t really teach you that kind of stuff.” “Oh.” Your eyes dim and you don’t try to hide your disappointment. You almost thought you could get a little more out of him, but you suppose decent sex is enough. As you grab your bag, you notice that his phone lights up. “You got a text from Victoria.” “Thanks.” He reaches over, but the curious expression on your face must be visible, since he says, “Don’t worry. She’s not my girlfriend or anything. She’s just someone I’m kind of into.” “Nice!” The corner of Jimin’s mouth quirks at your genuinely excited response even though he never looks away from the screen. You’re psyched though. If he has an interest in someone else, there’s less chance for anyone to catch feelings. Fewer connections. More distance. “If you ever want to end this, just let me know.” You throw your backpack on that’s heavy with your laptop and textbooks inside. “Yeah.” “I’m going now.” “Bye.” Jimin’s fingers fly across the screen to text the other girl back and neither of you spare each other a glance. The door shuts moments later and the noise echoes through the walls.

[3rd Year Fall Semester] In spite of being a junior now, things have relatively remained the same. According to course outlines, lectures are more in-depth in their content, but there’s still assignments, papers, and midterms. The grading schemes haven’t changed and you know there’s a shit ton of work waiting for you in the coming months. But you find pleasure wherever you can. The door opens, but it’s not Jimin on the other side. “Hey, Y/N.” Taemin, his roommate, is eating chips. “He’s in his room.” “Thanks.” You shuffle inside and after briefly greeting Jongin, the other roommate, who’s busy playing Animal Crossing on the living room couch, you beeline to his room. You find Jimin hunched over his messy desk, rounded spectacles on the bridge of his nose as he’s tapping furiously across his laptop keyboard. He glances at you. “Sorry. I need a second.” “Take your time.” You set down your bag and shed your coat, tossing it aside. You’re not sure what he’s doing, but you don’t ask. Instead, you pull out your phone and run through your usual apps. With no messages to answer or anything to scroll through, you check your email and find the words ‘emergency’ in one of the subject lines. After a minute, Jimin saves his document and closes the lid of his laptop. He stretches above his head with a groan and turns around, only to find you now hunched over your own device. “Sorry,” you mutter once you feel his gaze on you. “My manager needs me to fill out my timesheet and send it to her.” “I didn’t know you worked.” “Just part-time at the admissions office here on campus.” You go quiet as you skim over your email again to ensure it makes sense. “It’s a pretty easy gig.” He hums and you finish, shutting your laptop and sticking it back into your bag. That’s when you finally get a good look at the boy across the room — dark hair, blue shirt and gray sweats — and you notice how tan he’s gotten. It’s a good look. Your mouth tugs. “Did you travel over the summer?” “I went to the Caribbean with my family for like two weeks.” “Fancy.” “It was alright.” He gets up and re-stacks the textbooks on his desk into a single pile. Jimin notices the stack of flyers he was supposed to distribute. “Oh yeah. Do you want to join the crayon club?” Your brow lifts. “The crayon club?” “Yeah, you can come colour every Wednesday night and just hang out with people.” Jimin grins boyishly. “My friend wanted to make a club and he made me the communications executive. I’m supposed to get people to join. You don’t have to, but the first meet and greet is this Friday, and the more people the better. There’s gonna be free food by the way, if that helps.” You’re not sure that's a good idea. The two of you have never really met up outside of his dormitory, aside from the first time you met at the library. “Let me check my calendar.” You grab your phone again and thoughtlessly mumble, “Sometimes I’m busy on Friday. I’m part of the board games club and we meet up every other week…..don’t judge.” “I’m not.” Still, Jimin's smile widens and you feign a pout. You’re free this week. “I’ll come if you make me an executive too,” you quip carelessly while tossing your phone aside. “It’ll look good on my law application.” Jimin quirks his head. He didn’t know you were aiming for law school. “Okay.” “Wait.” You’re taken off guard, eyes as wide as saucers. “Seriously?!” He with a small laugh. Jimin gets up and closes the distance, making you lean against the headboard until he’s completely hovering over you, mere inches away. “We actually need a position filled anyway, so you just saved me some trouble.” “You better keep your promise, Park.” You end up showing with Wendy and Tiffany in tow — the former who wants to raid whatever food there is and the latter genuinely interested in colouring as a means of relaxation. It’s a bit awkward to meet so many new people at once and Jimin’s friends at that, but you can tell they’re nice at heart. Albeit, a bit rambunctious and too friendly. And you’re a bit horrified when one of them tries to eat a crayon to further advertise the club. “So, what’s up with you and Jimin?” Tiffany asks, peering up at you as she colours in the lines carefully. She’s unaware of your arrangement with the boy. It’s not something you’ve told many. You feign ignorance, not wanting to get into the details with strangers around. “What do you mean?” “Are you dating him?” You scoff. “I wish.” Immediately, Wendy’s brows raise to her hairline and the words that fumbled out of you thoughtlessly finally sink in. “I mean, no, we’re not. Not I wish.” Luckily, Tiffany spares you and doesn’t pry. But you’re mortified and you glance at Jimin from across the room laughing noisily with his friend. You turn away from him, trying to create more distance.

[3rd Year Winter Semester] With exam season here, you and Jimin hadn’t seen each other in a while. Luckily, Spring break was approaching, so you at least had something to look forward to. The idea of being able to lay in bed and sleep in automatically puts you in a good mood. Jimin, however, seems less than stoked. You watch from the bed as he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up before you’ve gotten a chance to. He was frowning when he opened the door, greeted you with one word and in general, has been quieter than usual. “Is….everything alright?” You wonder if you did something to piss him off, but then he says— “I flunked my final.” Oh. That explains his bad mood. “The one you took this morning?” you ask. “Yeah.” Jimin deflates with an extended sigh. “I didn’t get the first twenty questions and then I fucking ran out of time….” There’s a pause that lingers. “Well, you’re not sure if you actually failed, right?” You lean closer to him, quirking your head to the side. “The marks haven’t been released and who knows, the prof might curve it.” “Maybe. I don’t know.” Jimin scrubs a hand over his face, uncertain and stressed. “This ruins everything. I’m trying to get an internship at a clinical rehabilitation facility and I want to apply for a masters and now...fuck.” You’re surprised. You didn’t know he had so many goals. “I’m screwed.” Jimin flops back onto his mattress, staring at the ceiling. You loom over him, blocking his view. “Does the internship look at your GPA?” “They want a three point o average or more.” “What do you have now?” “Three point five.” The corner of your mouth pulls and a rush of air leaves your nose in a snort. “Then you’ll make it! Even if you failed one exam, it wouldn’t tank past a three. It can’t be too bad, right?” “Yeah, I guess.” Jimin sighs and absentmindedly tugs on your strand of hair that’s fallen in front of your face and is grazing against his cheek. “I just don’t know anymore.” “It’s going to be fine,” you reassure, slapping your hand on his shoulder. “You’re just overthinking it.” “Maybe,” he hums. A sudden thought comes across your mind and your small smile turns devious. “Let me make you feel better.” You shift to straddle his hips and instantly, his hands lift to your waist. Jimin starts to grin as you pull at his shirt, trying to get him to strip. And you do your best to pleasure him. It doesn’t take much effort considering Jimin’s hand is already tightening in your hair the minute you run your tongue along his shaft. But he doesn’t let you suck him for too long, eager to feel you inside instead and pleasure you just the same. It’s eager and messy sex. You’re on top until your thighs begin to burn and you lose your pace. Then he re-repositions the both of you, so you’re flat on your back and he’s doing most of the work. You end up cumming twice. Once around his covered cock and the other time after he coaxes you around his stiff tongue and eggs you on, even when you’re sobbing from the overstimulation. It feels good. Better than good. Over time, the pair of you have gotten to know each other’s bodies better, what works and what doesn’t. Your relationship with Jimin is an investment that feels worth it. “Hey…” You’re both facing away from each other as you put your clothes back on. Jimin turns his head and you cast him a glance. “I was thinking of maybe starting birth control…” He blinks. “If you go get yourself checked out and make sure you’re clean, we can do it without condoms.” You pull down your sweater over your head and you both stare at each other. He looks surprised and responds in a delayed manner, “Okay. Cool. I’m down. I’ll get myself checked out this weekend. I haven’t really slept with anyone else since this started though.” It’s your turn to be caught off guard. “Really? What...about that girl you were into? Vicky?” “You mean Victoria?” He jumps as he puts on his sweatpants, getting both legs through at once. “Nah. It didn’t end up working out.” “Oh.” He’s entirely nonchalant about it, so you merely nod. Jimin walks you to the door and you notice that he’s in a better mood than earlier. You hide your smile to yourself, glad that it was mutually beneficial. Two weeks later, he gets an email before the two of you get down and dirty, and you’re the first one in his life to know that he got the summer internship. His excitement is infectious and you genuinely feel happy for him.

[4th Year Fall Semester] It’s so close, you can taste it. A whole new semester and cart of overpriced textbooks later meant you were a senior now. It also meant that there was just this year left and you were out of here. Finished at least one degree. A step closer to making the big bucks and being a whole ass adult. The idea is both exhilarating and frightening. 2:20pm. Jimin: Wanna come over? The text mocks you, but the temptation is tangible. Like a carrot tied at the end of a stick that’s attached to a hungry rabbit. You’ve been sexually frustrated since last night, feeling it in your loins since morning, and fidgeting and rubbing your thighs underneath tables and desks. The thought of getting that sweet relief properly is enough for you to want to ditch class altogether, but you can’t. Not for the next few days. 2:22pm. Y/N: can’t. 2:22pm. Y/N: I’m on my period :(( 2:23pm. Jimin: I don’t mind 2:23pm. Y/N: really???? 2:24pm. Y/N: are you sure 2:25pm. Jimin: lmao 2:25pm. Jimin: yes You brace through the rest of the lecture, paying more attention as the anticipation swells. And when it’s all over, you race across campus to the dormitory building you’ve become familiar with. Jimin opens the door before you need to knock and he plants a chaste kiss against your lips in greeting. You’re taken off guard, but don’t pay too much attention to it. “How was class?” “Good. You?” “Same,” he hums. You drop your bag in his room and gesture below your waist. “I’m going to need to wash up. The nether regions are a bit…” He smiles. “Sure. I got spare towels I can set down too.” You self-consciously linger for a moment as he goes to his closet to the upper shelf. The towels are luckily green and not white. “I’m surprised you’re okay with it. Having period sex, I mean.” “Why wouldn’t I be?” Jimin pushes his blanket aside and puts a towel down. “As long as you’re fine with it, then I am too.” “I don’t know. Doesn’t blood gross you out?” “Not really? Most of the time I’m the one making the mess, so it’s actually nice to have someone else make the mess for once. Plus sex is sex. What’s there to complain about?” His brow lifts and he looks at you. You scoff and it makes Jimin grin. You wash yourself up and he fucks you in missionary position on top of the towels. The pair of you have only done so a few times before. Typically, you’re face down, bent over, on all fours or looking away from each other. But the change is welcome. Jimin hovers over you and you can kiss him when you want to. “F-Fuck.” A pitched moan unintentionally spills from you when he hits a spot at your walls that has your toes curling. “Ji...min.” It’s more lubricated than usual, making the strokes easier. He goes softer too. Deeper. Jimin presses your thighs to your chest and makes you feel him all the way to your throat. The boy smiles tenderly at your reaction in spite of panting himself. “Feel good, baby?” “Y-Yeah.” You nod, eyes shut tight. You grip his forearms when he bottoms out again. “Always does.” Your warm walls pulse around his thick cock and you end up cumming soon after. He groans into your neck at how you tighten around him like a vice grip and he thrusts into you one more time before his cum fills you. The pair of you jump in the shower together to get cleaned up and then you’re picking up your clothes while he tosses the towels in the laundry. “What were you working on, on Thursday?” You blink, realizing that you texted him vaguely about being swamped and unable to come over, and that’s enough for you to unload and go on a tangent. “God, don’t remind me. It was my fucking thesis. I barely managed to finish it but I don’t even know if it makes sense and now I have to edit like fifty pages by myself before giving it to my supervisor, so that’s fun.” It feels good to let it off your chest. Jimin smiles subtly at your venting. “I could always edit it for you.” “What? Seriously?” “Sure.” He shrugs. “I’m not in poly sci, but that might make me a bit more unbiased. I’m not doing much these days either.” “Oh my god.” There’s an overpowering urge to bow at his feet or suck his dick until you’re gagging or do both. “You’re a life-saver!” Jimin laughs and it’s the sound of angels singing. “Just send it over. I can get it done by tomorrow. You have my email, right?” “Of course I do. Duh!” Your grin is big enough that your cheeks hurt and he has one that matches it as well. // A few weeks fly by and things calm down enough that you can finally breathe. But that’s when you receive a little text from a certain someone that has you skeptical if you can rest easy. 6:48pm. Jimin: I have a surprise for you 6:48pm. Jimin: I forgot about it You’re not sure what it is, but asking would be like pulling teeth with him. Jimin hates spoilers and he likes surprises all too much. Lately, you’ve both been getting into some freaky shit. Buying toys, blindfolds, handcuffs. As adventurous as college kids with a limited budget can get. It was rather fun for the pair of you, and expectedly, some experiments work out better than others. It sends goosebumps all over your skin every time he talks dirty. You like it when Jimin spanks you too. Although, you’re still unsure about the whole candle wax on your body idea. But there’s one thing for sure — Jimin can most definitely not role play for his life. The whole school girl fantasy lasted a good five minutes before he started bursting into giggles and breaking character every other second. Playing doctor only made you realize how ticklish he was too. And the tickle fight that followed was definitely not something one would call ‘sexy’. Even if it did lead to the deed being done. “Hey.” Jimin greets you with a grin and a chaste peck against your lips. “How was studying?” “Fine.” You brush off the question quickly, too curious of what he has in store. “Jimin, I’m not going to use that twelve inch dildo unless you want to drive me to the ER.” He bursts out laughing. “That’s not it. Good try though.” Instead of going to his room like you usually do, Jimin leads you past the kitchen area to the table. It’s been cleared off and you give an inquisitive expression. He grins and then gestures to it. “Lay down.” “What?” “Just lay down.” He takes your hand, guiding you on it and you obey wordlessly. It doesn’t seem like any of his roommates are home and you hope they don’t come back any time soon lest they find you lying face down on their dinner table. You feel Jimin round the table and pull your ankles together. You tilt yourself up to peek at him, but then he barks— “Down.” With a pout, you return to your position, arms folded underneath your head. You hope he isn’t about to rub spices on you and roast you in his oven like it feels like he’s doing. You feel the gentle pressure of Jimin’s hands against your spine, his thumbs pressing into your skin and he hums, “Relax. Okay. Breathe in for me.” An inhale is taken and his hands suddenly press into the middle of your back. You hear your bones crack loudly. It catches you off guard and you turn yourself with wide eyes. “You know how to do it?!” He boyishly grins. “I might’ve learnt a thing or two during my internship.” “Keep going, keep going.” You flip yourself over again, gesturing to your back and he laughs, going down your body and cracking your bones. You become butter in his fingertips, lower back feeling better already. “Lift your leg for me.” You follow his instructions to a t. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you ask sleepily, lulled by his care. If he massaged you too, you might just cream your pants. “I got this, I got this,” he reassures with a bit of arrogance. “I’m not a professional, but I know what I’m doing. You trust me, right?” A noise is made at the back of your throat. “If you break a bone on accident, I’ll sue you,” you mumble as he turns you over. “God, feels good.” After a while, Jimin gets you to sit up and continues. He looks nice when he’s concentrating. Expression blank. Lips plump and in a line. Brows only slightly furrowed. “Considering you don’t have any ailments, you don’t need to get your bones cracked often. You should stretch and do some exercise instead.” You scoff. “Having sex with you is enough exercise.” To prove your point, you latch onto his arm and tug him towards you. Jimin smiles and the two of you break a sweat against each other on the table before either of his roommates come home.

[4th Year Winter Semester] It was an invitation that you would’ve called yourself crazy for offering a year ago. But if it wasn’t for him editing your thesis and taking a load off your mind, you would’ve had a harder time. You had him to thank for that. “So?” Jimin’s seated across from you at the restaurant booth. It wasn’t surprisingly difficult to ask him to grab a bite with you. For some reason, you thought he would reject. “What’s the big news?” Instead of answering, you reach into your bag and slide the envelope across the table. He’s curious and takes it, pulling out the letter to read. You sip on your water, watching his expression intently. He mutters the words and it takes him through the first paragraph before he realizes. Then, at once, Jimin’s eyes widen. His mouth drops and he looks at you proudly. “You got into law school?” “Three of them,” you tell with a cheesy grin. “T-That’s….fucking amazing. Holy fuck.” He reaches over and hugs you. It’s awkward considering there’s a whole table in the way, but you appreciate the sentiment. You’re giddy and giggling at how excited he is. It makes you feel like the first time you opened the letter yourself. Jimin presses a kiss against your hair before withdrawing. “When did you find out?” “Two days ago. I really thought I wasn’t going to get in since I got rejection letters last week from the other schools, but then three of them came in rapid succession.” He shakes his head, still in awe. “Congratulations. Seriously. You deserve it, Y/N. God knows how hard you worked.” “Thanks.” You smile to yourself, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. “I was thinking of maybe leaving the city to a different uni, but….I’m going to stay with my parents for as long as I can to save up on loans.” “Yeah, sounds good.” He nods. “Moving out can be expensive.” “What about you? Have you applied to your masters program yet?” Jimin laughs. “Actually, I was planning on telling you that today too. I didn’t bring any fancy letter with me though.” You lean closer, sitting on the edge of your seat. ��You got in?” “I did. Yesterday.” His enormous smile causes your own to expand. “I’m gonna do it part-time while working at the same facility I did my internship at.” You’re happy for him and you can tell by his expression that he’s genuinely excited for you too. The pair of you were taking steps forward for your future and while it was a little scary, for now, you enjoy the victory and pig out at the restaurant with little restraints. At the end of the night, you’re both wine drunk when you stumble back to his dorm room and soon, you’re trying to muffle your whimpers with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. It doesn’t help when he presses the humming vibrator to your clit harder. “J-Jimin,” you sob, fingers twisting into his sheets. You’re slumped against the headboard as he surrounds you. “Louder,” he commands, watching you through heavy lidded eyes. The cold air of his bedroom made your nipples hardened, yet you feel hot all over, under his gaze and ruthlessness. Your hand curls around his wrist. “Your roommates are sleep—” You cry and keen against his chest when he plunges the toy into your swollen cunt that’s leaking down your ass and thighs. “It’s okay,” he murmurs in a low voice against your ear, “Let it go.” You feel the toy nudge against your cervix, the vibrations trembling through your body and you orgasm hard with your forehead pressed against Jimin’s shoulder. Even then, he continues to draw it in and out of you, studying how you’ve creamed around the vibrator, how your slick is dripping to his sheets that are already stained with the scent of your shampoo. “J-Jimin,” you whine loudly, not knowing if you’re trying to lean away from his touch or closer. “T-...too m-much!” “You can take it,” Jimin softly coaxes and you nod. You cum again after a minute and he immediately kisses you with a big smile before peppering pecks down to your neck. It makes you feel ticklish and winded. “Hey...Jimin…” “Hmm?” “Are we still gonna do this after we graduate?” you ask in a quiet voice, laying back in the ruined sheets. “I’m gonna be busy and you are too.” “We’ll figure it out.” He flops beside you and you both face each other. Jimin’s arm is draped over your waist and you stare at one another for a moment before he closes the distance. Jimin nudges you for a languid kiss, your noses brushing as his soft, plush lips press against yours. It’s unhurried. Slow. He urges your mouth to part for him and his tongue slips in as you whimper, giving you a chance to properly taste him. Sloppy, wet noises fill the room while heat rises to your cheeks. But you’re unbothered while swapping spit with Park Jimin. It’s lazy, yet it feels good. So much so that you’ve relaxed entirely. In the back of your mind, you know you should get up and put some clothes on. Any cuddling or post-sex touching has largely been unprecedented before this and it’s not good to make habits you’ll have to eventually break. You should get your sweater off the floor, or at least slip on his purple t-shirt…. But you give into the temptation and shut your eyes for one second. One mere second. That’s enough for you to doze off. When Jimin realizes you’ve accidentally fallen asleep, he smiles to himself and tugs the blankets up to your shoulders, securing you in warmly. // You stifle another yawn with your hand. It’s 9:30 in the goddamn morning and way too early for you. There’s a reason you pick afternoon classes, go to work afterwards and then go see Jimin to end your day off. There’s no situation good enough that warrants your alarm blaring before eight — but you suppose a graduation ceremony could be an exception. “There’s so many people,” your dad gasps in wonderment, looking around the vast hall. “Do you know them all?” “No.” You hold in your sigh. “I don’t.” For the past twenty minutes, you’ve been running around looking for your parents after they’ve wandered off and gotten lost. If they weren’t spamming their cameras on their phone and telling you to smile in front of the odd statue or the meaningless bulletin board that wasn’t even part of your faculty, it was calling your name as loud as they could to find you in the crowds. You’re happy over their enthusiasm but also burdened. It’s a lot of mixed feelings. “Y/N?” Dark hair and brown eyes — a certain someone who you weren’t expecting to run into is staring right at you with a boyish smile. “Jimin?” He looks good, a suit underneath and a black graduation gown over it that falls to his calf. His gown has a golden hood and tassel while yours is white — the colours symbolizing your different faculties and areas of study. “Hey.” His gaze is warm. “You look nice.” “Thanks. You too.” You don’t linger on him for long, not when his parents are right by his side. You divert your vision and greet them politely. Jimin surprisingly looks a lot like his dad and his mom has a kind face. They seem like sweet people and you’re suddenly breaking into a sweat. “Nice to meet you.” Your own parents make themselves known and you feel like your worlds are colliding as they shake hands and exchange names, congratulating each other on their child’s graduation. You’re about to get them moving along when your mom nudges you. “Is this your boyfriend?” Her voice is way too loud and you feel yourself burn in embarrassment. “No. He’s just a friend,” you whisper it sharply but much your dismay, they look unconvinced. You miss the way Jimin smiles to himself. “We should get a picture!” his dad declares and your own dad looks even more elated at the idea of spamming more pictures. You already had to delete a hundred blurry ones, but your mom ignores your groan and pushes you both towards some weird artwork on the wall. “Stand over here! Over here! Smile!” Your parents end up sitting next to each other on the rows and you have no words, forced to sit at the bottom with the rest of your graduating class. It’s a wonder that the Arts Faculty was scheduled right before the Faculty of Kines. Fate or coincidence, you’re not sure yet. But it’s still nice to see Jimin walk the stage and be able to cheer for him. “Congratulations, Mr. Park.” He grins. “Congratulations to you too, Miss L/N.” It’s certain that the numerous celebrations with family, friends and relatives will be chaotic, so you take advantage of the opportunity while you still can. You steal just a little moment for your selfish desires by standing outside before you’re both bombarded by your circle of people. “You know, I couldn’t have done it without you.” “Oh, stop it with the sappiness.” You can’t feign a roll of your eyes when your smile is so big. He swings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and laughing. “Why? Don’t like it?” And the little shit slyly leans in to whisper, “You like it when I call you my baby though.” “Jimin!” He laughs and you sigh with a smile. You’re glad you ran into him.

[Post-Graduation] You open the door, welcoming yourself in. “Hey.” Jimin’s on the couch and glances at you, unfazed at how you’ve waltzed right into his apartment with little warning. You’ve always knocked out of courtesy for his roommates, but ever since he moved out of the dormitories, you find little need to make him walk all the way to the door. He’s watching a thriller and you flop down on his couch, leaning over to plant a quick peck against his mouth as a greeting. “How was work?” “It was okay. A bit busy. I met this nice old lady and we chatted for a bit. She called me handsome, so there’s that.” He grins and you scoff lightly, leaning your cheek on his shoulder as you watch the main character venture into an abandoned house on screen. Jimin loves his praises, so you’re not wholly surprised he’s kept a mental note of it. You’re not sure why it’s important though. Anyone with eyes would agree he’s good-looking. “How was class?” “Awful,” you mumble, feeling tired against him. You came over to get rid of some sexual frustration, but you’re not even sure you have the energy to do anything anymore. “Commuting was brutal this morning. Traffic was backed up on the highway and I was late, and yesterday I had to drive back at night. My parents are driving me nuts too. I can’t study properly.” Jimin hums a soothing note and slings an arm at the back of the couch where you’re sitting, letting you lean into him. It goes quiet as the two of you watch the suspenseful scene and then he absentmindedly pipes up after a minute, “You could always move in with me.” He continues, “It’s closer to the university and it’s quiet during the day, so you can study. We could always study together too.” It’s a good idea, but— “I can’t afford that.” “I don’t mind paying rent for a while. It’s the same either way.” It takes a second for the words sink in and then you’re peeling yourself off of him. Your gaze is met with Jimin’s, eyes locking into one another and the movie is left in the background. “As roommates?” He shrugs. “There’s only one bedroom, but sure.” A studio apartment. One bed shared. Two people. Watching movies. Having sex. Eating together. It doesn’t sound bad to you whatsoever, but you contemplate it. It swirls around inside your head and you murmur, “Isn’t that breaking the rules of being friends with benefits?” And you don't know why but Wendy’s words from the other day are echoing inside the caverns of your brain at the worst moment. “You know, your relationship with Jimin isn’t exactly normal.” You weren’t sure what she meant and you still don’t know. Not when she had advertised and encouraged this kind of arrangement all those years ago. When she had told you many people got involved in each other like this. But you’re starting to wonder if something is off. Did you do something wrong? Did your relationship with Jimin spiral out of control? But everything feels normal. After three years, you’d think you would’ve mastered the art of benefits by now. You sigh, getting a headache. Yet, Jimin merely shrugs. As if the definitions and boundaries don’t bother him whatsoever. “Is it?” “Kind of. I mean, living together, being mutually exclusive. It almost sounds like….” “Like what?” His brows lift. “Like we’re dating?” You feel hot in your face, skin toasted like a furnace. Maybe you’re being delusional or silly. Maybe he’s going to laugh at you. “This is what couples who are going to get engaged do.” “Maybe we should date then…?” The pitch of Jimin’s voice raises at the end, not necessarily a question but neither a statement. It’s questionable like he’s unsure how you feel. Like he’s playing a guessing game. And then he smiles at your shocked expression. Jimin turns to face you fully. His gaze is heavy, earnest. “Maybe we should date.” This time, it’s repeated as an assertion. Confident. Unwavering. Sincere. Jimin leans in to kiss you as if he can’t resist anymore. It’s tender, taking you off guard and you lean into him, finally allowing yourself to become surrounded by him. Mind. Body. And soul. When the two of you pull away, he smiles while catching his breath. “I-I’m down if you are. This apartment can be yours and you can study here and sleep here and whatever. We can eat together and I’ll buy you take out or cook. It’s fine if you don’t want to. I’m cool with anything. We can keep being friends with benefits, if that’s what you want….so…......what do you want?” You exhale lightly, feeling warm. “This...is a lot.” “Is it?” Instantly, Jimin appears panicked and you hold back a laugh. “We’ve technically been together for three years and...what we’ve been doing recently is basically dating. In my opinion.” “Did Wendy put you up to this?” “No.” He shakes his head. “Frankly, the person I talk to most these days is you. And I like it that way.” God, you hate him. You pull Jimin in for another kiss, an aggressive and eager one. Enough that you can feel the heat off of his own face. You move to straddle his thighs and when you break apart, you muster a glare at him. “You know, I’ve been trying so hard not to catch feelings. You’re ruining all my efforts, you know that, Park?” He grins. “Is this a yes?” “It is.” This time, he’s the one to kiss you, sealing your lips together as he smiles against your mouth and squeezes giggles out of you. Even if he doesn’t say it, even if he’s saving it for another day, you know from his tender touches that he loves you. And it’s mutual. No longer do you need to worry — leave right after the deed is done or be panicked when you’ve accidentally fallen asleep in his bed. You’re unashamed when he kisses you harder as a greeting, when he holds your hand, when you go out together. You can have pillow talks without needing to guard yourself, cuddle him, call him yours. And when Christmas arrives, meaning sweater weather and snow dusting from the sky, you have someone to keep you warm. Someone who you can come back to and call your home.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #jimin smut #bts scenario #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #lol I can finally use the smut tag #I know this ain't sfw y'all but I really wasn't kidding when I said I was experimenting a bit more with smut #with that being said I actually really like this fic #IT'S FLUFF AND SOFT AF #I LOVE ME SOME CUTE CHIM DON'T FIGHT ME

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fuanteinasekai · 3 years

Photo

Time to talk volumes 25 and 26! I said I would translate the afterwords for both volumes together, and I have regrets. So, it’s a week late, but I finally finished.

Why did I put volumes 25 and 26 together? Because each contains about half of the 5 chapter long “Village of the Sleeping Vessel” arc, and because they were treated as two halves of a whole. As you can see above, both the cover illustrations and the afterword illustrations are part of a set: complementary Natori/Matoba covers and complementary Natsume/Tanuma illustrations. Because I’ve never compared these two pairings or anything.

The covers are interesting for the way they seem to reflect Natori and Matoba’s contrasting points of view. But I’m most personally interested in the afterword illustrations because they seem rather optimistic to me, and because they tell a story. While the first half was melancholy, and seemed to suggest that Natsume and Tanuma would be drawn to each other even if Natsume were hopelessly cut off from the human world, the second half seems to show Tanuma being able to cross that line and come see him anyway.

Anyway, author’s notes translation ahead!

Volume 25

お疲れ様でした。

この先ネタバルとなりますので最後に読んでいただけるち嬉しいです。

２５巻目となり夏目たちの関係性も変わりつつある中、夏目友人長を描き始めた頃にいつかやってみたいなと思っていたお話もやっと描けるようになってきました。話を思いつきつつも初期の頃の夏目やニャンコ先生でほうまくビジョンが浮かばずやれなかったものが少しづつ描き取れるようになってきました。

反対に初期これがやりたいと思いつつ、今の関係性ではもうそこはクリアしてしまったから描くことは出来なくなったなという話がいくつかあります。簡単には寄り添えなかった頃の夏目でしか表現出来ないような話が使えなくなった事が寂しいような、それもまた良いかと思えるような不思議な気持ちです。そんな描くには時期を外してしまった話も形や方向を変えてちゃんと育てていつかまた見えたらぜひ描いていってみたいと思っています。

Thank you for reading.

Spoilers follow, so please read this last.

With volume 25 and relationships between Natsume and others changing, I’m finally able to draw the stories I wanted to draw when I first began Natsume Yuujinchou. As I think up stories, I’ve been able to gradually write down things that I couldn’t draw in the beginning, when I didn’t have a clear vision for Natsume or Nyanko-Sensei.

On the other hand, there are things I wanted to draw in the beginning but can no longer do because that issue is already settled in the current relationship. To put it simply, it’s sad* that I can no longer use the kind of story that can only be expressed by a Natsume who doesn’t get close to others, but I have a funny feeling it’s also a good thing.** In order to draw that kind of story, I’d like to change the form and direction of the stories for which I missed the time period and develop them properly, and if I see a chance again I’d definitely like to draw one someday.

“Sad” here is sabishii, which is commonly translated as lonely or desolate, but can also refer to the melancholy of something no longer existing. ** Fun fact: she used this same “funny/strange feeling” expression when she said Tanuma was the reason for the “characteristic distance” between him and Natsume.

—

{Note: in addition to the afterword illustrations, Volume 25’s afterword background is illustrated with silhouettes of the Mid-rank yokai on their mission, as well as what appears to be Nishimura, Kitamoto, and Taki. Also the kitty brigade. Also Sensei in a suit for the anniversary bit. Volume 26 is arranged differently and does not have background illustrations. Additionally, the only mini illustration in 26 is this at the very beginning:

}

特別編21

16ページという事で何が入るか悩んだのですが中級達の得体の知れなさも出せるものを描いてみたいなとやってみました。連載が長いので時々、自分にこっそりお題を出して描く事があるのですが（例えば『つきひぐい』の回はモノローグ禁止とか）せっかく小ページの回なので「主人公を描かない」を。けれど描いてみて夏目が出ていないとなんとなく閉鎖的な感じもして、そこが新鮮でもあり反面、異種間の緩衝材的な存在は大事だなと再確認した回でした。

Special 21

I was worried about what I could fit into 16 pages, but I wanted to try to draw something that would display the mysteriousness of the Mid-Rank yokai. As the series is so long, I sometimes draw something where a secret problem for myself appears (for example, in “Tsukihigui” monologues were forbidden). For these rare few pages, it was “the protagonist can’t appear.” But when I started drawing it, it somehow felt closed off without Natsume appearing, and while that was novel on the one hand, it also reaffirmed that some kind of buffer between species was important.

—

第百·百一·百ニ話～　依代*の眠る里

百回記念日という事で担当さんと話し合って久しぶりに長めのお話を描かせていただけることになり感激でした。いつもなら登場したらすぐ帰ってしまうキャラ達をもう少しじっくり描けるのは本当に嬉しくて。

初期から描いてみたい話だったのでワクワクしつつも、アレと同じ形がいっぱいいたと言う事にジョックを受ける方もいるのではと気を引き締めながら描きました。田沼やタキといる時は自然でいられるようになってきた夏目ですが、祓い屋としての名取や的場といる時は強くあろうとする面があるのか、かえってそういうものが意外に脆さになるのかも知れないなと描いていて感じました。

成長したから出てくる不安定なものも描きとっていけたらなと思っています。

Chapter 100, 101, 102: Village of the Sleeping Vessel

I was moved when, after talking with my editor about commemorating the 100th chapter, I was given a chance to write the first long story in a long time. I was really happy to be able to put a little more care into characters that normally leave as soon as they appear.

At the same time as I was excited to be able to do a story I’ve wanted to draw since the beginning, I was also bracing myself that some people would be shocked by so many of the same shape. Natsume has gotten to the point where he can be natural around Tanuma or Taki, but with exorcists like Natori or Matoba, there’s a side where he tries to be strong, and I felt while drawing like that sort of thing might, all the more, unexpectedly turn fragile.

I think it would be nice if I could keep drawing uncertain** things that appear as a result of growing up.

* “Vessel” here explicitly refers to vessels designed to be occupied by kami, known as yorishiro.

** This “uncertain” is actually the same “unstable” that she used when talking about Natsume and Tanuma’s “unstable worlds,” (aka my blog title) so I was a little startled to see it here! It’s also super-vague, which always makes me Suspicious.

—

特別編22 ８ページという事で悩みました。小ページだからいっそいっぱい描きたいキャラを出そうと言う事でみんなに話を聞いてまわる話にしてみたいなと。パトロールは大事ですよね。

Special 22

I was worried about there being [only] 8 pages. Since there are so few pages, I thought of filling it with characters I wanted to draw, and I wanted to go around talking to everyone. The patrol is very important, isn’t it?

—

Special Anniversary Notes:

こんにちは、緑川です。夏目友人帳、２５冊目となりました。何度目であろうと　こうして一冊にしていただく度、緊張と嬉しさを噛み締めております。相変わらず漫画を描く楽しさや難しさと格闘しておりますが面白く読んでいただけるものが描けるよう頑張っていきたいと思っております。どうぞよろしくお願い致します。

Hello, This is Midorikawa. We’ve reached Volume 25 of Natsume Yuujinchou. No matter how many times it happens, whenever I get a new volume like this, I enjoy the tension and happiness. As usual, I’m still grappling with the enjoyment and the difficulty of drawing manga, but I’d like to do my best to be able to draw something that’s fun to read. Thank you very much.

長い間、コミックスでお馴染みだった、左端の1/4コーナーですが、この巻からなくなっております。雑誌では広告が入る場所で、ネームの時は展開やシーンのタイミングを見ながらどこへ入れるか悩ましいスペースだったのですが、コミックス化の際にはなかなかお伝えする機会がないご挨拶やお礼を書き込めた思い出深いスペースでした。

The 1/4 space on the left side of the page has been familiar in comics for a long time, but it’s missing from this volume. It’s a space for advertisements in a magazine, but when I’m captioning, I worry about where to place it while looking at development and scene timing. But it was a space full of memories for me, where I was able to writing greetings and acknowledgments I hadn’t really had a chance for when it was turned into a comic.

夏目100回記念

長く続けさせていただき連載100回目を迎えることが出来ました。本当にありがとうございました。「依代の眠る里（第一回）」が丁度百回目となり、掲載号ではLaLaの先生方がご協力くださりそれぞれの作品のどこかにこっそりと隠れニャンコ先生を描いてくださいました。とても可愛いニャンコ先生をたくさん描いてただけて、ご協力いただいた先生方や企画を考えてくださった編集部様方や読んでくださってきた読者様方に感謝で胸がいっぱいになりました。大事に致します。

Natsume’s 100th Anniversary

After a long run, the 100th chapter of the series has arrived. Thank you very much. When the exact 100th chapter (Village of the Sleeping Vessel Chapter 1) went to print, the LaLa senseis [mangakas] cooperated to secretly hide Nyanko-sensei in each of their works. I am full of gratitude to those who drew so many super cute Nyanko-senseis, to the editorial staff who planned it, and to the readers. Take care.

お手紙

お手紙とても励みになります。可愛いイラストを描いてくださったり、素敵なお話をきかせてくださったり、思いを込めて感想を書いてくださったり、とても嬉しく大切に読ませていただいています。なかなかお返しできませんがまた楽しんでいただけるよう頑張っていきたいと思っています。

Letters

Letters are very encouraging. I’m very happy to carefully read your letters: the cute illustrations, lovely stories, and thoughtful impressions. I can’t really answer them, but I want to do my best to keep appreciating them.

Volume 26

{Note: Volume 26 does not have an overall commentary, just the usual “thanks for reading, please save this for last.” Also both volumes have an acknowledgements section I did not translate. Please spare me.}

第百三·百四話依代の眠る里

久しぶりに長めのお話を描けて本当に嬉しかったです。読切形式だといつも途中でもう次は何をと頭がいっぱいになりますが、こうしてすぐに締めずに展開できるととてもワクワクして漫画家になりたかった頃の気持ちが思い出されました。短く切ってしまいたくない話も沢山あるのでまた機会がありましたら読んでいただけると幸せです。ずっとやりたかった依代の里のお話でしたが今の心境になれた夏目だから帰れた話でもあるのかなと感じました。同業だからの連帯認識とその時の考えで会う度に変化していく名取と的場の微妙な立場も描き取っていきたいです。絆ある友人を人事ている夏目、祓い屋である事でも力になれるはずだと信じている名取、おおくを知り見る事は出来ている故動く事が出来ない事もある的場、きっと力になれるはずなのに同行できない田沼、秘密を見守る猫達、ニャンコ先生、描きたいものがいっぱい描けて楽しかったです。そしてもっとこの話で描きたかったなと思っている事もあるのでまたしっかり練って描いていきたいです。

Chapters 103, 104: Village of the Sleeping Vessel

I was really happy to write a long story for the first time in a while. With standalone stories, my head is always already full of what I’m going to do next when I’m halfway through, but this time I was really excited to be able to develop the story without immediately bringing it to a close. It reminded me of how I felt when I first became a mangaka. There are many other stories I don’t want to cut short, so if I get another chance I’d be happy for them to be read. I’ve wanted to do the Yorishiro Village story for a long time, but with Natsume’s current state of mind I feel like there are probably other stories I could return to. I also want to keep drawing Natori and Matoba’s delicate position, which changes whenever they meet because of the sense of solidarity as colleagues, and because of their thoughts in the moment. I was happy to be able to draw so many of the things I wanted to draw: Natsume who believes in his close friend[s], Natori who believes he should be able to support [Natsume] even though he’s an exorcist, Matoba who sometimes can’t act because he is able to know and see so much, Tanuma who surely should have been able to support [Natsume] but couldn’t accompany him, the cats who keep a secret, and Nyanko-sensei. Also, sometimes I think about how I wanted to draw this story even more, so I want to keep polishing it up properly.*

* A little confused by present tense here. Maybe she wrote this note while they were still editing between magazine and tankobon?

—

第百五話　クッキーと森の入り口

里から帰った夏目は田沼に色々報告せねばならないのではと思い出来たお話です。ニャンコ先生について、妖絡みで仕事をしている人達について。けれど隣あってみると話すというより一緒に何かやっているうちに気持ちの整理がついていき、夏目なりに田沼への報告が出来たのではと感じました。アニメグッズで担いだ風呂敷に穴が空いていてみかんを落としているニャンコ先生を描いてくださった絵があるのですが、ああいう可愛いお話も描きたいと思っていたのを思い出しました。

Chapter 105 Cookies and The Forest Entrance

This is a story that developed out of the thought that Natsume had a lot he needed to tell Tanuma when he came back from the village. About Nyanko-Sensei, about people who work with yokai issues. But when I saw them side by side, I felt that rather than talking, Natsume would sort out his feelings while they did something together, and that he would be able to report to Tanuma in his own way. There’s an anime merchandise illustration of Nyanko-Sensei dropping satsumas from a hole in the furoshiki slung over his shoulders,* and it reminded me that I wanted to draw a story with something cute like that.

*Good news! I found the merch:

—

第百六·百七話　亡き友を訪ねて

依島さんは２０巻目の「とおかんや」といお話で夏目と先生と名取が会いに行った元祓い屋です。２４＋３２ページでは入らないかなとも思ったのですが、ずっと描きたかった話で、依代の里をやった今描いておきたいと入れさせていただきました。依島さんを描く時は時代を少し離れて描けるような気がして楽しいです。夏目と対等の妖力を持つ相手との行動も描けて新鮮でした。そんな力ある先輩が事情があるにしろ辞めて引き篭もっている現状は後輩達には少し複雑なのではと思っています。賑やかな娘達、広いお屋敷、キラキラしていた空間に透けてくる侘しさのようなものに気付いてしまう瞬間の様なものも描いていけたらと思います��

Chapter 106-107 Visiting a Late Friend

Yorishima-san is a former exorcist who Natsume, Sensei, and Natori met in Volume 20, “Ten Days.” I was worried that it wouldn’t fit into 24+32 pages, but I’ve been wanting to draw this story for a long time, and now that the Yorishiro Village arc is done, I got to fit it in. When Yorishima-san appears, I feel like I get to draw something a little out of time, which is fun. It’s also refreshing to be able to draw Natsume doing something with someone who holds the same level of spiritual power. I wonder if it’s not a little complicated for the juniors when that kind of powerful senior goes into seclusion without regard for circumstances. I got caught up with the cheerful daughters, spacious mansion, and sense of refinement that sparkles through the space, and the time spent drawing seemed to pass in a flash. I wish I could have kept going.

#The text isn't showing up in drafts so please open if you want the translations.#This was really long and I'm out of practice #so there may be a few mistakes #But I think I at least got the ideas down #gonna go lay down for a while #spoilers #though minor #if you haven't read everything up through 2020

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katsidhe · 3 years

Text

Ranking Every SPN Midseason Finale

15) 10.09 The Things We Left Behind. Claire’s reintroduction isn’t as bad as some of her later appearances, mostly because she’s still hostile towards Cas and the Winchesters, but it’s still not great. There’s Rowena and Crowley drama I don’t care about, and Dean kills a bunch of people, which is kinda fun, but would be more interesting if it had any consequences.

14) 14.09 The Spear. Michael’s monsters plan is pretty dumb. I’m still not clear on why Michael stopped possessing Dean at any point. Michael and Jack have a good conversation, and I suppose an assassination is the only viable plan for the Winchesters to go for, but most of this episode is just a series of “why” moments one after another.

13) 1.10 Asylum. This is a perfectly acceptable MOTW episode, and a ghost-addled Sam yelling at and punching Dean is fun, but it’s simply not up to snuff with the kind of plot or character development that the other midseason finales put on the table.

12) 13.09 The Bad Place. I really like Kaia and Jack here. The moment with the angels pounding on the ground to break the wards is genuinely pretty cool. The stakes get upped with the reveal that Mary’s being tortured in Apocaland, and Dean reacts by threatening Kaia at gunpoint, nice. It’s not a bad episode, and it’s not incredible either.

11) 12.08 LOTUS. Is this episode silly? Oh yes. Am I thoroughly entertained when watching it? Resoundingly yes. Every dumb terrible campy detail--like Lucifer turning crosses upside down—combined with the sheer balls-to-the-wall wtf-ery of the President being possessed, and the interspersed moments of genuine drama—as when Sam banishes Lucifer—creates a combination that I can’t help but enjoy. I also like the likely somewhat unintentional implications as to how the political landscape of the SPN world was changed by the sheer volume of apocalyptic events it’s experienced. Seems fair to conclude that God is angry.

10) 8.09 Citizen Fang. Dean sends Sam after Amelia with a fake text, as their s8 conflict comes to a head. This is far from the shadiest thing Dean’s ever done, but it’s so fascinatingly, unapologetically a Relationship Red Flag that I really enjoy it. Plus, I find Sam’s conflict with Benny pretty interesting here.

9) 6.11 Appointment in Samara. Dean’s deal with Death is a cool concept, and it’s set up well, but it falls a bit flat. Dean fails the test in a way that’s very predictable, and that has no consequences, because Death likes Sam enough to retrieve him anyway. The better part of this episode is Soulless’ desperate, last ditch attempt to save his life at the cost of Bobby’s—he screams and begs as his soul is returned, and I love the moral dilemma here.

8) 9.09 Holy Terror. Kevin!! His death was viscerally shocking and heartbreaking. This episode is consigned to mid B tier because of the angel drama I don’t care about, and because I am still torn on if I really like Kevin’s death thematically speaking. For one thing, I miss him to this day—I miss having a cynical, informed perspective on the Winchesters in the room. For another, it muddies the waters of Dean’s crime in having Gadreel possess Sam, in ways that are sometimes interesting but sometimes miss the point.

7) 15.08 Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven. *chanting* New Cage canon! New Cage canon! Jake Abel steals the show with his insane chemistry with himself, and makes the s15 conflict much more interesting just by existing. I love how goddamn uncomfortable Sam is this entire episode, I love Adam and Michael’s weird compelling dynamic, I love Dean’s awkwardness, and I love the four of them all together. I just want them to sit in a room and talk foreeeever.

6) 7.10 Death’s Door. I don’t even like Bobby that much, but even I have to admit that this is a great emotional episode. Sam and Dean deal with their grief, and it’s done well enough to make me grieve for Bobby too.

5) 2.09 Croatoan. Good episode is good. It’s a zombie episode with a real sense of fear and isolation—and then Sam gets infected. Dean’s violent refusal to kill Sam, the subsequent reveal that Sam is somehow immune, and then a demon revealing that this town died just for an experiment on Sam? Creepy and emotional and intriguing!

4) 4.10 Heaven and Hell. Demon and angel battle! Some very fun additions to what we know about the angels and their motivations: Anna’s commitment to fleeing and defying Heaven, coupled with what appears to be Ruby doing the same with Hell, is cool. I also love how Sam ends up successfully playing both sides off each other. Plus, it ends with Dean’s emotional reveal about his time in Hell.

3) 3.08 A Very Supernatural Christmas. Iconic. Three separate things to love: fantastic pre-series content, including amulet backstory and the reveal of little Sam finding out about monsters; a truly wonderful MOTW that involves Christmas tree stabbing and fingernail pulling; and the looming emotional juggernaut of a final celebration before Dean’s deal comes due.

2) 5.10 Abandon All Hope. Crowley’s delightful introduction as a smarmy survivalist, Ellen and Jo’s tearjerking deaths, Cas captive and mouthing off to both Lucifer and Meg, Dean’s unsuccessful shot, and of course Sam and Lucifer’s first meeting in person. Action packed and spooky and thrilling and simply beautifully executed.

1) 11.09 O Brother Where Art Thou? In Hell, is where, and I couldn’t be happier!! Lucifer’s reintroduction coupled with Sam’s distress and brittle scared determination is atmospheric and terrifying. Rowena’s betrayal and Amara’s pitch to Dean are compelling. Most importantly, though, I had to wait a MONTH for 11.10 with Sam’s CRYING FACE in my head: best worst cliffhanger of the series by miles and miles. Bury me in this episode.

#1.10 #2.09 #3.08 #4.10 #5.10 #6.11 #7.10 #8.09 #9.09 #10.09 #11.09 #12.08 #13.09 #14.09 #15.08 #ranking

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eschergirls · 4 years

Photo

Originally published at: https://eschergirls.com/photo/2020/04/22/totally-true-gender-science-pc-zone

From Jess Morrissette on Twitter (with permission):

"For some women, the 3D space and layout of an area in a game like Quake is not immediately obvious to them. Tunnels which lead off from a room, or even the entire architecture of the room, may be 'invisible.'" Source: "How to Get Your Girlfriend Into Games" (PC Zone, May 1999).

Holy s- this piece. And way to go with the "As your experiences in bed have undoubtedly told you, there is no bigger turn-off than a complete systems failure" part that seems to insult the presumed-to-be-male audience too? -_o And the "science" snippet that says women can't play FPSes because we can't navigate 3D space, but women are good at adventure games because women talk more than men... but remember gamer guys, don't complain about women being bad at things because you used to be a girl in your mom's womb once! Holy cow, PC Zone, not helping.

Transcription for screenreaders (big thanks to Bella (@MoviePosters00) for the transcription):

HOW TO GET YOUR GIRLFRIEND INTO GAMES

You've been playing games for years, but just imagine what they must look like from a non-gamer's point of view. They suck. The graphics are crap. Look out of your window — that's good graphics. These just look shoddy and blocky in comparison.

And what's with all the violence? Why do you have to kill everybody? Why can't you just talk to them? And what are these locations? Cathedrals? Dungeons? Catacombs? God, it's all so dark and depressing. And why are there so many blokes in these games? And what the hell am I doing spending hours playing this when I could be out talking to people, reading books, watching films, living life... This is how girls think.

Girls and games rarely mix. They rarely mix because you — man, boy, bloke, fellow, chap, me lad —you designed them.

Unlike most other examples of popular culture, computer games are predominantly designed and programmed by blokes and so inevitably appeal to men and the male tick-list of desirable experiences: being a superhero, being competitive, being murderous, and doing things fast.

Sure, we play the odd puzzler like Tetris. And yes, we can be found occasionally talking to elves in adventure games. But on the whole, we want violence, people's heads exploding, fast cars, big jets and gouts of hot arterial blood splattered against cobblestones. We want wars and vast armies of ourselves crushing other vast armies of people different to us into the dust.

She thinks: "Why play stupid computer games when you could be making me a cup of tea, paying me some attention, taking me out (or whatever your relationship revolves around)?"

You think: "Why waste valuable time attending to you when I've got to complete this freaking level?"

She strops. You grit your teeth. You feel bad about playing so you grab what gameplay you can in unsatisfying snatches, standing up every five to ten minutes and stroking her hair.

You say: "You okay?" She says: "Yeah. Guess so." You sprint back to your machine for another five-minute burst. Suddenly it's 2am. She's face-down asleep and you're having just one more go. Relationship: terminated.

Obviously, the ideal situation would be for both of you to like games. Those with PlayStations will probably have already experienced a touch of curiosity about games from their partners. But if the PlayStation is designed to be simple and appealing, the PC is a horrible beige monolith, forced to do games as an afterthought.

But it can be done. You can get your girlfriend playing games. We at PC ZONE have designed a 12-Part System. It takes some planning and no small amount of patience. We can't guarantee 100 per cent results but we believe, if you follow this plan, at the least, she will have some idea of why the hell you play games in the first place.

THE 12 RULES OF GIRLFRIEND GAMING

Step-by-step techniques for getting your girlfriend into games

1 CHOOSE WISELY

There's no point throwing her directly into Falcon 4 or Dark Reign II. Keep your game choices simple and realistic. Choose a game with strong interactive qualities and with real-life locations. There aren't, however, many good girl games on the PC.

PC ZONE chooses:

Half-Life

The hazard course is a particularly good starting point. It takes a while to get going but once they're hooked, they'll never stop.

Tomb Raider III

Despite what feminists say about her bosoms, girls like playing girls. Especially strong, agile ones.

Motocross Madness

Great driving game set 'outside', with hyper-realistic graphics. Exhilarating and amusing.

Creatures 2

Yeah, yeah, they "get to raise babies". Easy joke.

Worms

Because you can name the worms and then blow them up.

Quake II

Multiplayer especially. They'll hate it at first but try and try again. They'll get it.

Grim Fandango

Interactive, movie-like, funny, with a plethora of locations and mysteries. How much more girly can a game get?

Others (recommended by visitors to our website)

Puzzle Bobble, YOU Don't Know Jack, Baku Baku Animal, Civilization, SimCity 3000, Sam & Max, Broken Sword, Little Big Adventure, Settlers 3, Caesar IA Fallout 2, Zork: Grande Inquisitor

2 SET UP YOUR ROOM

Rule number one: tidy it. Rule number two: tidy it again (and vacuum this time). No-one wants their first introduction to games to happen in the midst of a smeg pit. Clear the mugs away. Wipe all those shavings and toenails off your desk. Clear the cigarette butts, bits of paper, Blu-tack and Coke cans out of the way. Get a nice clean mouse — not one clogged up with three months' worth of dried skin. Clean all those manky half-moons of crap off the keys on your keyboard, too.

Use Stanislavski's Circles Of Attention technique to minimise her distraction. Turn off the main light in your room and erect a side light which creates a pool of illumination around your computer. This makes the computer screen the centre of focus and mutes any peripheral distractions. In short, she has nowhere to look if she gets bored.

3 SELL HER THE GAME

Talk to her in language she can understand. Remember: you are a computer games geek.

She is a proper person who cares about things like emotions and novels. Don't use jargon. Ramp up any 'interactive' elements (talking, speaking, puzzle-solving). Play down hyper-violent aspects (flying globules of gibbage, explosions with true particles, realistic death throes). Once she's over her initial reluctance, she'll be as bloodthirsty as anyone, but you have to get her there first.

Half-Life

You want to say: "Next-generation first-person shoot 'em up with strong narrative elements."

You should say: "011, it's an amazing unfolding story with you playing the central character."

Motocross Madness

You want to say: "The real-time shadows are unbelievable and on Voodoo2 it uses tri-linear mapping for a super-realistic fractal landscape."

You should say: "It's really realistic and it's set outside."

Worms Armageddon

You want to say: "It's like that tank game you used to play in school where you'd enter the trajectory and balance it against wind speed."

You should say: "It's like Tetris."

TOP TIP If you're ever in any doubt about how to describe a game, just say: "It's like Tetris." Whatever you do, though...

4 DON'T OVER-HYPE IT

"Oh God, this is the best 3D shoot 'em up ever. The graphics are unbelievable. It’s such a brilliant game. It rules." Do not say anything like this or you'll create preconceptions. A game will have to have reality-quality graphics and the most involving storyline ever known to grab her after that sales pitch. To the uninitiated, compared to reality, a good film or a great novel, games - all games - suck and blow (at the same time).

5 HAVE A GOOD MACHINE

Don't waste your time trying to convert her to the Dark Side if you're packing a five-year-old PC with a green screen and Sinclair BASIC. Who wants to see a glut of piss-poor pixels masquerading as people and locations? Get 3D acceleration. And get it now. Get RAM. Get a nice big monitor and some meaty speakers. If you're going to use a joystick, get a big, firm one she can grasp (yes, insert crap joke here).

Get a joypad if you can. Remember, computers were never designed for games. It may be more versatile in the long term, but a keyboard isn't as forgiving as a joypad (plus you get to see her 'girl-steering' the pad in mid air when taking corners in racing games). The mouse is a brilliant 3D navigation device, but not at first and certainly not for someone used to pushing icons around a flat screen.

6 ENSURE EVERYTHING IS RUNNING CORRECTLY

As your experiences in bed have undoubtedly told you, there is no bigger turn-off than a complete system failure. Blue screen General Protection Faults are the gaming equivalent of a hair-trigger ("Oh sorry, I just GPF'ed"). Create a load of shortcuts on the desktop and configure keys/joystick/sound/video in advance - you don't want to stop the action over and over to adjust CD music volumes or the 'crouch' button.

Don't decide to check your email. Don't receive any phone calls. Don't schedule a clan match. Don't invite your mates over for a pissing contest. Make sure it's just you and her.

7 DON'T TAKE OVER

This is Five Gold Rings of the plan - the most important piece of advice. Resist the temptation to dominate proceedings. As she tumbles - for the fortieth time - headlong into the lava, do not snatch the mouse out of her hand and show her how it's done. Encourage. Encourage. Encourage. Every fibre in your body will be screaming for you to take the mouse - don't. Take a deep breath and count to ten. Better still, go outside and scream into a pillow (perhaps two. Eiderdowns). The more you interrupt and cajole, the less she will become immersed in the game and the more you will fail.

8 REASSURE HER

Like any newbie, she needs constant reassurance.

She says: "I'm crap."

You say: "No, you're not just schooled in the conventions of this medium."

She says: "Oh, I can't do it"

You say: "It took me a while to get the hang of it, too."

She says: "What's the point? I don't get it. I'm not doing it anymore."

You say: "There's a really brilliant bit coming up. Just stick at it."

She says: "I'm bored."

You say: "There's a bit like Tetris coming up in a sec."

She says: "Where's the bit like Tetris?"

You say: "It's coming in a minute, okay?

9 DON'T PATRONISE HER

"Ooh, you're doing really well," you say, as she dies on the Half-Life hazard course 50 times in a row. She's not stupid. She knows the difference between succeeding and failing. If she has developed black-ball trouble or a psychological block, change the scenery. Try a different game or a different level. Surreptitiously turn God mode on. Anything.

10 MAKE IT PART OF AN EVENING

Don't just announce that tomorrow night, you'll be playing computer games together. Or lock her in and force her to sit in your chair for hours. Go out for some beers first, or get some wine in, or whatever your relaxation method of choice is. Don't push it. Imagine this is like date number two or three. You wouldn't slap it on a tray and say "Let's go," would you? Maybe you would, but pacing and timing and bit of restraint are going to get you further.

Also, get some snacks in. PC ZONE recommended snacks for girlfriend gaming: Tooty Fruities.

11 POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT

It is a psychological fact that people will do things they don't want to if there's a reward for them at the end. You may have to trade. Say you'll go to see a film with subtitles with her if she spends an hour playing games. Or that you'll cook something other than corned beef curry. Or that you will finally pull out those dirty socks that are stuck like cardboard behind the radiator. There has to be a trade. You don't get something for nothing. Hopefully, to use an unfortunate comparison, like Pavlov's dog, every time she hears the ping of the SimCity 3000 menu options or the splattery fine red mist of giblets hitting cobblestones in Quake, she'll start salivating.

And finally...

12 DON'T BE SELFISH

Now you have succeeded in getting her as addicted to games as you are, you must nurture her interest. This means sharing your machine.

Remember, girls always win at beat 'em ups. You can revise all the best, most shimmery combos and special moves but she, just by randomly banging the joypad, will triumph every time. If you lose, don't tell her it was "a crap game anyway". Be gracious.

Maybe you should invest in another PC and set up a network. That way, she can play, you can play, and you can settle washing-up arguments with the railgun. Ah, bliss...

Oh, and don't forget to delete that porn.

AND NOW, THE SCIENCE BIT...

Blokes don't like talking about their emotions and girls can't park. Crass sweeping generalisations or statistically proven sweeping generalisations?

A variety of behavioural differences have been reported for men and women, and researchers have zoned in on 'parallel parking' as an example of the differences between male and female thought processes. Men can often 'see' the space, in 3D, in their brains. Women can perceive the gap, but need to talk about it in order to understand its relationship with the length of their car. They ask themselves questions and come to a conclusion, which takes longer than the male approach, which Is just to pile in there and use the alarms of the vehicles in front and behind to judge distances.

This car-parking phenomenon also has an influence on the way women perceive computer games. For some women, the 3D space and layout of an area in a game like Quake is not immediately obvious to them. Tunnels which lead off from a room, or even the entire architecture of the room itself, may be 'invisible'. This is not, as your grandfather no doubt maintains, because "women are stupid" but simply because they have a tendency to perceive 'negative space', the gaps between objects rather than the objects themselves.

The widely-held belief that women only like adventure games can be explained by recent studies, which found that women spend 43 minutes a day making personal calls and men only 22. Women speak, on average 9,000 words a day, while men utter a mere 2,000. Generally speaking, women communicate more and enjoy the act of talking and interacting more than men.

Anyway, before you start moaning about crap girl gamers or bad parking arguments, remember this: until six weeks into your mother's pregnancy, you were a girl. Then your defective X chromosome kicked in. Everything went haywire and for some reason your nipples weren't absorbed. Your clitoris, however, remained and grew and grew into your penis. Just remember that.

PUT TO THE TEST

We put PC ZONE's 12-Part System for getting your girlfriend into games to the test. We took a bunch of girls, various games, applied the system and tried to convert them to the Dark Side. Here's what happened...

NAME: Paula

AGE: 27

JOB: Make-up artist

STANCE ON COMPUTER GAMES BEFORE: "Boring waste of time. A typically mindless male pursuit."

STANCE AFTER: "No different. The kind of thing you do in the absence of any other stimulation or activity. When you're trapped in the house and there's no alternative. It makes me want to go and read a book."

VERDICT: Thoroughly resisted conversion to the Dark Side.

NAME: Vanessa

AGE: 22

JOB: Model

STANCE ON COMPUTER GAMES BEFORE: "I've only played PlayStation games before. I like martial arts games."

STANCE ON COMPUTER GAMES AFTER: "I really enjoyed them, but I still prefer games that get my adrenalin going."

VERDICT: Converted.

NAME: Mandy

AGE: 27

JOB: Hairdresser

STANCE BEFORE: "I've played puzzley games like Tetris. I get quite addicted, but how blokes can play them for hours or weeks strikes me as strange."

STANCE AFTER: "It's tempting once I get started."

VERDICT: Not much change

NAME: Emma

AGE: 24

JOB: Archaeologist

STANCE BEFORE: "They're all full of blood and violence. For boys who haven't grown up. I like building games like SimCity."

STANCE AFTER: "A bit disappointed you can't shoot people's legs off, but yeah, good fun."

VERDICT: Success.

NAME: Helen

AGE: 28

JOB: Stockbroker

STANCE BEFORE: "They are quite good, but far too complicated. A solitary, masturbation-type thing."

STANCE AFTER: "Yeah, good. I like them. Although I don't think I'm going to develop a habit or anything."

VERDICT: Our job here is done.

Quake ll

PAULA: "It's quite dismal. I don't have any sense of where I am. I'm just running around mindlessly. (Picks up some health 'biscuits.') Have those things disappeared because I picked them up? I don't know where I am. Am I trapped underground? Don't know where I've come from, don't know how to get out (she spends minutes shooting wall fillings). How do I know that's a door? I don't really understand the rewards. I get mild satisfaction from shooting someone. And blowing their head off."

Motocross Madness

PAULA: "I like the outside setting and the freedom. It's exhilarating to move over nice bumpy terrain. It doesn't look that realistic".

VANESSA: "I love this. It's more me. I love racing. The graphics aren't that amazing. I do like the crashes, though. It's wicked. I could play this for hours. It's brilliant. Wheeeeee (performs enormous, deadly cartwheel which should splatter drivers against the rockface like a plum). There's so much open space all over the place. I even like falling off."

MANDY: "It's a bit samey. What are you supposed to do? I like having race-oriented goals. I wouldn't buy it. It's got really weird, illogical controls."

EMMA: "Don't think much of the ground. How are you supposed to know where you're going? I've never been on a bike before... Oooh! I'm doing a wheelie! (The girls clap.) Why is it so sunny? It wouldn't be sunny. It'd be all muddy, like on KickStart, with people standing around who you could hit."

Pacman

PAULA: "Immediately challenging, but there's a really depressing quality about it. The `so what' factor is very strong. The graphics are shit - just lines and dots on a bit of paper. Don't care whether I win or lose. (Indignant) How old is this game?"

Half-Life

PAULA: "Much more exciting than Quake II. More problem solving - more appealing in that sense. The tension is greater and there's more suspense. The usual dismal, claustrophobic setting. It makes me feel anxious and tense. Ah! Ah! (Genuinely screams loudly when she sees a zombie.) That's horrible! I get bored when I go round and round in circles. It makes you aware of how mindless it is. It's quite satisfying - oh (plummets 10,000 feet to her doom) but it's quite satisfying to kill a bizarre monster."

VANESSA: "Feels more real than on the PlayStation. It's quite exciting - all these holes to jump through. It's exciting to use all these fingers. I hate it when I lose. I love guns. I like holding the gun. I thought I just came up the ladder. Why should I go down again? I wish something more exciting would happen. This is boring."

MANDY: "This is good. I like this. I like the fact that you're making progress. I'm excited. I like the way his arm moves (she ducks to avoid low pipes on screen). Quite impressive, but I couldn't play it for hours."

Grim Fandango

HELEN: "Superb. I like things like this. I like shooting things, it leads you into the scenario. You have to find something, secret things (she is getting visibly excited). There's a mystery. That gave me a rush of pleasure (she finds the way out of the first room). That looked like it should do something. I want to go back and see."

EMMA: "it's the kind of game where you'd suddenly realise it was 2am and you had to get up for work in the morning. I like the music that's on in the background."

MANDY: "There's so much more to see - it's a lot more interesting to look at. I like the detail. You're not just doing the same thing over and over again. It's good because this isn't the kind of game where my boyfriend could phone me up to brag about his high score. Yeah, he does that"

#PC Zone #Magazines #video games #submission #link #general sexism #double standards #representation

278 notes · View notes

rovewritesit · 4 years

Text

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 5) John Deacon x Reader Series

GIF: @johndeac

Apologies for the delay! Work has been an absolute shit fest. The big show I’m on got canceled, but we still have to finish the season at some point so oof. Also, my boss is moving to Italy? Pray for my sanity, folks.

Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Strong language. Feelings of anxiety. Angst (oooo!)

Chapter Notes: I've rewritten this chapter so many times that I don't even know what it is anymore. Angst is hard, my dudes! Why can't it all be flirty glances and quick banter?!

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

Songs Mentioned:

Moonlight in Vermont - Frank Sinatra

Blues Run The Game - Jackson C. Frank

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @brianmays-hair @deacyblues @squishy-geckboye @hae-bee @aprilaady @theresalexis @uglipotata72829

- - - - - - -

September 1982 - The Music Inn, New York City

“Bri, get a load of all these fucking maracas!”

Brian makes his way over to where Roger is gazing at a massive wall adorned with shaker-filled shelves, dipping his head low to avoid the sea of guitars hanging from the ceiling above his long frame.

Queen was back in New York for their first-ever appearance on Saturday Night Live. Finding time in between the intensive rehearsals during the week had been hard, but Freddie insisted they would make the time for his favorite New Yorkers. When the time was finally found, he, of course, was unavailable, off antiquing at some of Manhattan’s luxury spots but promised to meet up with the group later on.

The Limbs managed to snag the other three men for a trip to the historic Music Inn. Nestled in the heart of Greenwich Village, the dingy treasure trove was located a stone’s throw away from the city’s most prominent folk clubs that boasted discovering the talents of Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel.

You were quite confident that your newfound English friends would love it. Every visible space was stuffed or covered with an abundance of musical paraphernalia. So much so that you had been in the store dozens of times without ever finding out what color the walls were. Its layout was always changing to fit the ever-growing amount of items displayed, the familiar specks of dust that sparkled in the sunlight being the only constants.

“Hey, Jeff!” Steve calls out to the eccentric owner. “Where are these from?”

The aging hippie shuffles over. “Mostly South America,” he explains in his usual gravelly drawl. “A customer brought back some new shekeres from West Africa last week that have a nice sound to them.” Jeff motions up the sprawling wall. Roger immediately grabs a few, testing the sounds out against the ones Steve is already playing with - the two of them like kids in a candy store.

Jeff had been a good friend to The Limbs since their early teen years, having let the group spend hours on end attempting to learn every exotic instrument they could get their hands on. Anyone who entered the shop could count on him as a spirit guide of sorts to a wealth of worldly music. And while The Limbs had kept their first album fairly plain in context, they were already itching, particularly Steve, to experiment on the next album. Whenever that would be.

Now that a few more of their singles were moderately successful hits, Columbia Records was focused on milking it for all that it was worth. The execs were currently setting up an extensive American tour of the Mid - West Coast part of the country, all the major cities they hadn’t hit on their first tour.

“Y/N,” Jeff gestures for you to follow him, probably excited to show you a new find seeing as you were always eager and willing to give them a test run. You make your way down the staircase lined with large balalaikas to the musty lower level filled with various sound equipment and electronic instruments.

“What on god’s green earth would you use that for?” you hear Rich’s deep voice implore. He rolls his eyes as Eddie moons over an ornately engraved mandolin.

“It worked for Rod Stewart, didn’t it? That mandolin solo in Maggie May shredded,” he retorts. “Plus, look how pretty she is!”

You watch your feet as you carefully maneuver around the amps and pedals haphazardly strewn around the floor, following Jeff to the back of the room - taking special care to step around John, who is crouched low looking over the wiring of a particularly grody-looking amp.

Upon entering the store, he had taken off on his own right away, immediately entranced by the sprawling selection all about him. But you had caught the worn, far-off look in his eyes when he greeted you with a short wave earlier. You try not to let the lack of attention bother you as you pass him without so much as a glance up. The heartfelt conversation you had the last time they were in town had rooted itself in your memory. Spilling your guts like you did that night wasn't a common occurrence for you- figuring you were already easy enough to read due to the panicked expression often etched onto your face.

Why him? Even your bandmates weren’t privy to the babblings of your intimate thoughts. It couldn’t just be his boyish tooth-gap or the pleasing line of his straight nose. Maybe it was the confusing mix of nerves and comfort you felt whenever in his presence. It was unlike the persistent butterflies you were used to when around attractive humans. Feeling instead like a gentle humming that you somehow sensed everywhere at once.

You’re brought out of your swimming thoughts as Jeff clears his throat loudly to get your attention. You must’ve been staring blankly at the floor for quite a while. He gestures to a bulky item draped in a tarp, as you give him a small apologetic smile.

“Oh yes, very pretty,” you smirk at him.

He rolls his eyes as he attempts to sweep the tarp off in a dramatic reveal, but in reality, it gets stuck. The man scrambles to uncover it, and as soon as it peeks out, you gasp.

“A theremin!”

You gaze at the ordinary-looking wooden cabinet in awe. It must be old, seeing as they were mostly compact now.

“You haven’t had one in ages,” you marvel, locking eyes with Jeff.

“Which means it’s been a while since I’ve heard your ambient screeches plaguing these walls.”

Your finger points to him in protest. “Hey, I was getting better until you sold the last one on me!”

“Well, I didn’t see you making a bid for it,” he playfully shrugs.

“Let’s hear those screeches!” Eddie yells out. Rich claps his hands excitedly beside him. You poke your tongue out at them, but your eyes catch John’s, and you quickly close your mouth. Still crouched, he looks on with mild curiosity wrinkled on his brow. He lightly raises them at you in silent encouragement.

You slowly make your way behind the instrument as Jeff plugs it into the wall. Turning one of the knobs, it hums to life as you check the metal attachments protruding from the wood frame. It really is old. You have no idea how to even begin to calibrate it. Taking a deep breath, you timidly bring your hands up in position.

It lets out a high pitched wail that burns your ears from being so close, and you yank your hands away from the field of current. Eddie and Rich erupt into cheers while John slowly stands, moving a bit closer to see the mechanism properly.

Jeff lightly pushes you back towards it in a gentle coax. This time you slowly bring your curled hand a reasonable distance away from the pitch antenna, keeping your other low on the one for volume. Squeezing your eyes shut to focus on the tone, you slowly move until you find your starting note. It was all about sense memory and your ears to fill the gaps with nothing to physically touch.

Uncurling your fingers, you begin the opening notes of Moonlight in Vermont - the one song you had somewhat taught yourself through hours of painstaking practice. You fumble a bit, eliciting a squeak or two while trying to remember the hand placements that produce the proper notes. While you might “play” many instruments, you were middling at many, master of none. You make it through the first verse before your head starts to pound from your jaw-clenched concentration.

“Fuck the mandolin, let’s get that for the next album!” you hear Rich tell Eddie.

“Ah, yes, you’ve heard Pet Sounds. Now prepare your ears for The Limb’s sophomore attempt, Ghost Sounds,”

Their banter is drowned out as John chimes in. “How on earth did you learn that?” You meet his struck expression and shrug lightly.

“Don’t downplay it, Bun. It’s pretty fucking cool,” Rich assures you. “And her knowing ASL also helps,” he explains to John.

“Sign language?”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s mom is deaf,” Eddie reveals bluntly. You shoot him a look.

“Sorry, hard of hearing,” he holds his hands out in defense.

John is silent for a moment as he mulls the information over, causing a speck of tension in the room.

“Your mother’s never heard you sing?” he asks incredulously as if he can’t possibly imagine it.

You give a small smile. “No, I guess she hasn’t. But I was in the car with her the first time I heard us on the radio. I turned the treble down and the bass all the way up and she bopped along to the beat pretty well.”

Rich chuckles lightly at the story. “She’s always been hoot, hasn’t she?”

You nod gently. “Aptly put. That’s how she describes herself as a matter of fact.”

John shoves his hands deep in his pockets as he takes a look around the room, his cheeks a light pink. You're unsure of why.

“I’m gonna head out for a quick smoke,” you decide, patting Jeff on the shoulder. “I know how you hate it.”

He gives your hand a light squeeze before you make your way upstairs, hoping to catch John’s eyes, but he avoids yours yet again.

A pleasing blend of harmonies can be heard as you hit the landing. You peek your head around a large assortment of bongos to find Brian strumming a small acoustic on the other side of the store. Roger, Steve, and Lawrence all crammed around, the four of them singing a rendition of Blues Run the Game.

Your heart warms at the sight, remembering the times when you and the boys would sit around a campfire and croon out the same sad tune. Eddie and Rich will be pissed they missed this. Steve notices your presence and silently ticks his head for you to come join. You hold up your pack of Marlborough’s in response to him before finally slipping out the front, trying your best to not jingle the adorned bells too much.

A cool breeze promptly passes through the knit of your sweater. It’s late September, and New York has begun to really cool off. You pull down the sleeves to cover your hands as you light your cigarette, wincing a bit on the first inhale. It was a leftover habit from your college days- scarcely used, only in social situations, or to get out of awkward ones.

Taking in the familiar street, you can’t help but giggle at the day you were having. To be showing Queen around your old hangout still felt absurd. No matter how genuinely they seemed to like the company of your band, you couldn’t fathom them wanting to spend the day with you all. Weren’t there bigger and better musicians in this city to be hanging out with?

The sound of a lighter flicking to life comes from your left, and you turn. John leans against the faded wall as he takes a drag, his eyes trained on the dirty sidewalk.

“I’m sorry, i- if I offended you with my comment about your mother,” he professes quietly.

Your brows shoot up in confusion. “What?”

“We have a friend whose father is deaf. A lovely man. I shouldn’t have been so insensitive.” He sighs, finally turning to face you. “It’s just that the memory of hearing your voice for the first time isn’t something one can easily shake. I mean that in a way that- it’s just a shame really. For her to not be able to share in it when it’s something so...” he looks as if he’s racking his brain for an appropriate word. “Well, singular.”

You suck in a breath at his words. In all your years, you had never gotten that as a response to your mother’s disability. It was mostly a polite, “Oh, really? I’m so sorry to hear that.” His honesty and consideration for your feelings knock the present hum of your body up to 100.

You flinch as gentle burning hits your fingers, and you look down at your forgotten cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground before crushing it under your heel. John shifts his weight from side to side, never taking his eyes off of you while he waits for you to collect your thoughts.

“I write out my lyrics for her so she can read them as poems,” you state simply, smiling up at him. “Sometimes she makes up her own melodies and sings them around the house. It’s not the easiest on the ears, but she’s pretty inventive.” His eyes crinkle as he returns your grin - his first genuine one of the day.

“So she’s heard music before?”

“Oh yeah. She has nerve deafness, which didn’t start till her late twenties. She actually spent a lot of time around here when she was younger. Bitter End and The Gaslight are just a few blocks away.”

He hums lightly as he stares at you- like you’re a puzzle whose pieces are just beginning to fit together.

“Can you teach me something in sign language?”

Once again, your brows shoot up, shocked by his response. You blink a few times, trying to think of what to say. Going with the only thing that pops to mind, you sign out a phrase as he watches your hands intently.

“And what does that mean?”

You smirk, “You are a cheesy cow.”

“I’m sorry?” he laughs out.

You repeat it back slowly while signing along. “You. Are. A. Cheesy. Cow. It’s the first thing my mother taught me how to sign.”

He runs his hand over his jaw as he chuckles. “Rich was right. A hoot she must be.”

“I’m pretty shit, to be honest, and she read lips, so it’s mostly used for snide comments during extended family gatherings.”

You watch as he puts out his cigarette and carefully takes a step closer to you. “I’m assuming your colourful vocabulary extends to those instances as well.”

“Right you are.”

“Freddie will love that,” he snickers. “He always seems to collect vulgarities in other languages wherever we go.”

Your attention is torn away as a sleek black car rolls up to a stop at the curb. It’s out of place in the middle of the street filled with old and worn buildings, which can similarly describe the people who mill about.

“Speak of the Queen herself,” you laugh as a sunglass-clad Freddie steps onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, isn’t this quaint!” he exclaims, peering into the shop window. He straightens as he turns to you, hands-on-hips.

“Deacy. Thumper. Are we fans of freezing our tits off, or shall we go inside?”

You give John a small smile and push yourself off the wall, making your way over to Freddie, who immediately pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. The bells against the door ring out as you all enter the shop.

“Ah, Deacy,” Brian pokes his head out from one of the narrow aisles, still in a constant crouch to avoid the instruments above his head. “I was looking for you. Found these adorable teeny guitars I thought might be good to bring back for the kids. What do you think?”

“Kids?” you mumble to yourself as John makes his way over to inspect them.

“Brian has two, and John’s already up to 3. Maybe we should’ve nicknamed him Bunny.” Freddie laughs, nudging your arm. “You know… fucking like rabbits,” he expands due to your lack of chuckling.

He leans into your field of vision as he studies your statue-like expression, eyebrows knit in confusion. His eyes take in your ashen face and your lifeless expression. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing. When you lock your eyes with his, you know he understands from the sheer size of how big they become. He straightens up, glancing around quickly as if looking for something to put out a fire.

“Freddie!” Steven dances over, clicking a pair of castanets in his hands. “I wanted to show you thi-”

“So sorry, love, we can’t. Y/N promised to come to a fitting with me, and we’re already late," he announces loudly, pulling you by the arm and out the door before anyone can react.

- - - - - - -

You blankly stare at your reflection in the long mirror. Freddie had instructed his stylist to pull some outfits for you to parade around in as he tried on a bevy of metallic coats.

“You’re an idiot,” you tell the girl staring back at you.

Freddie sashays over, a shag jacket swaying with him as he places his hands on your shoulders, surveying the strappy dress you were currently squeezed into.

“Oh yes, this will do for the after-party,” he instructs.

“I’m not going.”

He heaves a deep sigh. “Darling, you already refused the ticket I got you for the show. You’re coming to the party,” he declares, turning away to look at more options.

“This isn’t really me…” you mumble, gesturing to the dress.

He regards you with a small smile. “Exactly. I say this with love, but you need a look, Y/N. Something that makes you feel unstoppable,” he gestures to his body as he twirls towards you. “Don’t you want to shock them?”

You chew your lip as you ponder that sentiment. Dawn usually just shoved you into whatever ensemble she had picked for you - leather jackets, monochromatic sets, tight jumpsuits. She kept hoping you’d find a style you fancied, but you had yet to find anything remotely likable under the lights of the stage.

“To be honest, I just want to be able to feel comfortable out there," you sigh. "But I can’t strut around in flashy outfits or conduct a whole crowd like you do." Huffing as you collapse onto one of the white couches around you. He perches beside you, throwing an arm around the back of the sofa.

“Then don’t,” he says simply.

You snort a response as you cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but have you tried showing them a bit more of yourself?”

“I can’t do that.”

He turns to you now, grabbing your attention with his eyes.

“And why not?” he questions.

You gaze down at your hands, which you’re now wringing together in your lap. “What if it’s nothing spectacular?” you whisper out the criticism that you'd drilled into your mind for the past year.

Freddie laughs lightly as he stands. “Let’s not start lying to ourselves, shall we?” He moves in front of you and kneels, now at eye level, making so you can’t look away.

“Sometimes people go to a concert for an escape. A big bloody show with dazzling lights and petite men galavanting around a stage in spandex tights,” he smiles.

“But most of the time they just want to find a piece of themselves in it, don’t they? Commonality. They want to hear you, see you, and feel just a little less alone than we all know we are. I saw just a slice of it at your concert, and it was indeed something spectacular. So take that as you will.”

You’re not one to cry much, but your eyes soften as you take in the icon of a man in front of you. A man loved by millions, who was currently filling in as your personal rock n’ roll fairy godmother.

“You’re a fantastic person, you know that?” you tell him genuinely.

“Yes,” he quips as he gets to his feet. “Now, are we done scurrying around the real problem at hand?”

You sigh as you look away, firmly willing yourself not to break the dam of bottled emotions threatening to spill out. Why couldn't you just feel numb? It would be better than the wave of childish self-pity you found yourself in.

Freddie huffs at your reaction. “Oh, you brat. Sorry to tell you, but you’re an open book, my dear. And not one of those big pompous things Brian reads. A bloody children’s book. One filled with pictures.”

You're sure you’ve now bitten through the entire top layer of your lip as you contemplate how to even begin.

“I’m an idiot,” you shrug to yourself yet again.

“No,” he points a finger at you. “You’re decidedly not. Though I am curious as to how someone who’s as big of a fan as your friends say you are, missed out on that detail.”

“I’m not sure either. I mean, I listen to your albums and go to your show, but I guess I didn’t pour over the tabloids or press interviews or anything like that.”

Freddie nods along as he sifts through another rack of jackets, choosing an incredibly tight white leather number.

“I assumed you knew,” he answers while glancing at his reflection. “And I would say Deacy should know better, but he’s not quite himself at the moment.”

“What do you mean?” you press, suddenly much more interested in the conversation.

He turns to you, palms up in explanation. “It’s not that he wouldn’t normally be charmed by your shy presence and occasionally crass mouth… But I’m a bit worried he’s finding comfort in your smiles for the wrong reasons.”

“Huh?”

Sighing heavily as if debating if he should keep skirting around his words, he holds your gaze. “An impending divorce is crippling lonely, even if it is somewhat amicable.”

His mouth is brought into a pout as you suck in a sharp breath.

Divorce. All your previous interactions play through your head from a different angle. Pity sneaks up on you as you remember John’s advice he’d given you. The concept of home is a funny thing. You scoff out loud at how your childlike crush had skewed your interpretation of your relationship with the man.

“I’m usually the one singing his praises,” Freddie muses, breaking you out of your inner monologue of resentment towards yourself. “But he seems more lost than usual at the moment.”

He gently lifts your chin. “I don’t normally meddle in- well, actually I do. Just don’t want to see you get hurt, Bunny. Not when the world is soon to be at your feet.”

"I'm fine," you lie, gently brush away his gesture. "I barely even know the guy. I was just shocked to have my silly fascination with him interrupted. Stupid, really."

"Don't do that," he exhales. "Don't put it on yourself. You'd have to be blind to ignore the fact that he's quite taken with you."

"I'm fine," you repeat, making your way into the back to change out of the ridiculous dress that suddenly felt even tighter now.

Shutting the door slowly, you let out a deep breath. It's all good, you tell yourself. Of course you got caught up in the attention of a world-renown musician. Who wouldn't? It's nothing special. As Freddie said, he's not even acting like himself. Although you were indeed in true form- getting caught up by the slightest of interactions. Unconsciously playing them as a loop in your head. You can't help but cringe at your own escalation of the situation.

Squaring your shoulders, you take in the image of yourself in the dress again. Perhaps it was time for you to shock them all.

- - - - - - -

“And so my grandfather goes out to the alley and sees her just wailing on this scrawny man. I mean, really going to town. So he pulls her off him, and the dude’s got a black eye and a bloody nose. And he’s like, “Thanks mate, thought she was gonna kill me there.”

Roger ruffles your hair in response to your poor attempt at a British accent. The group of cast and crew around you chuckle at the gesture.

You had decided that if you were going to be forcibly dragged to this after-party by your bandmates, you would at least aim to make it worthwhile. A debut of your new mentality. One where you weren't just acting the part of a rising rock star, but living it.

Which is why at the moment, you found yourself the center of attention, surrounded by the cast and crew of SNL laughing along to your amusing story. But this was all hinged on you carefully, avoiding the presence of John Deacon at all costs. Which, in reality, wasn't very hard to do- you had yet to see him since arriving an hour ago.

“Oh my god, who was it?!” the young cast member beside you presses. You think her name is Julia, but the sheer amount of people you'd been introduced to was dizzying.

"That's exactly what we asked him when he told us. All he said was that it was some man with big lips who was in a fur coat and looked like he hadn't eaten in a month..."

The cam op across from you gasps, "It was MICK JAGGER? God bless your grandfather, I would've wept if she murdered him."

"So would my mom AND grandmother," you laugh. "Give us each a glass of wine, and it's basically a Mick fan club."

"Who else?" Brian taps your leg, surprisingly urging you to divulge more gossip.

You can't help but smirk as the group leans forward intently.

"Robin Williams?" you tease as their eyebrows all raise.

"Horrible tipper, but he makes up for it by performing dirty puppet shows with the napkins."

"Sounds about right," funnyman Brad Hall confirms, offering you another drink.

You politely decline, determined to keep your wits about you this evening. "I'm gonna go grab some water. Anyone want anything?"

The group shakes their heads, but Lawrence jumps up to join you on your trek to the crowded bar.

"Wouldn't it be insane if this was us one day?" he exclaims as you weave your way through the mass of bodies littering the Capitol Grill.

You smile up at him, "Dream big, buddy."

"Oh, I intend to," he confirms you as you spot Eddie and Rich waving you over from a spot at the bar.

Rich promptly wraps his arm around your shoulders as you join them. He always had a stoic way of letting you know he saw through the cracks in your poorly constructed armor. Taking the role of a caring older brother, more so than your own.

"Have we lost Steve again?" Lawrence asks the group.

Eddie nods across the room. "He's exactly where you think he'd be," he scoffs as you catch a glimpse of Steve, trailing Freddie like a lost puppy.

"Um, excuse me?" a short girl mumbles from behind Eddies' denim-clad shoulder. He turns, glancing down.

"Hiya," he regards her casually, causing her a deep blush to creep across her cheeks. She shoves a napkin and pen at him.

"C-could I get an autograph? Please?"

Eddie smirks at her flustered appearance, making sure to brush her fingers as he grabs the items out of her trembling hand.

"And what beautiful name should I be making this out to?"

She lets out a jarring high pitched giggle as she stumbles over her words. "Oh, uh, Shelley."

"Well, here ya go, Shelley," he hands the napkin back to her, now adorned with his messy scrawl. "Maybe I'll see you later."

She squeaks as she hurries back to her shrieking friends who are huddled conspicuously off to the side.

"Gross," you state. "She's a child. Probably one of the executive's kids."

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Gotta keep em' interested, Bun. As the heartthrob of the group, it's my sworn duty."

"Slow your roll there, Rob Lowe," Rich interjects. "I think Y/N's giving you a run for your money in this dress."

You glance down at the Freddie approved ensemble. It was eye-catching for sure, precisely what you were going for. It's black suede straps crisscrossed strategically against your body, giving peaks of the skin underneath.

"It looks good, Bun," Rich assures you.

“Guys,” you all turn your attention to Steve, who has just joined the circle clumsily. His pupils are blown wide from his current blood alcohol content, and he sways slightly on his heels.

"I- I have something to say," he announces to the group, getting your attention. You all wait patiently as he hesitates, clearing his throat twice before lowering his voice. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m gay.”

You glance around to the other boys whose expressions mirror your own warm smile. You’d all known Steve was gay since high school, not that any of you had talked about it. You had just assumed it was something unspoken. That he’d tell you whenever he was ready or met someone good enough to introduce to you all.

Steve gapes at your expressions. "Where is the shock? I was expecting shock and awe, people!"

"Steve, please don’t take this the wrong way. But I’m assuming we’ve all known for a while," Rich says gently. You all nod lightly in agreement.

"How?"

"Do you remember the types of girls who used to throw themselves at you? Like Becky Whale? Man, I would’ve killed for Becky Whale to throw something at me. But you never took them up on it," Lawrence elaborates.

Steve smiles around at all of you, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“I had a crush on Eddie in high school,” he confesses.

Eddie pumps his fist lightly. “Fuck yeah.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Lawrence exclaims. “You just had to boost that ego, didn’t ya? I know pretty boys are great and all, but I’m the one with the big soft cuddles. People love big soft cuddles!”

Rich expands his arms as he brings you all in for a hug.

You kiss Steve gently on the cheek. “I’m proud of you, bud,” you whisper.

"Thank you guys, I just felt like it was time. And now that that's out of the way," Steve grunts as you all untangle yourselves. “I’m gonna go find Freddie. He said he’s taking me out to a club after this!”

He skips away with a grin, back towards Freddie, who catches your eye with a knowing smile and winks. It seems you weren’t the only band member who had found a fairy godmother in Mr. Mercury.

You all lightly laugh affectionately at your friend until Eddie and Lawrence wander off to scope out the food situation. You lean against the bar next to Rich, glancing around at the loud laughter erupting from the outgoing crowd. One person noticeably sticks out. A sullen John Deacon sits at the end of the bar, hunched over what looks like a glass of whiskey.

"Looks like he's in need of a friend," Rich surmises.

You tear your eyes away from the sorry sight to look at him. "They're around here somewhere," you shrug.

He rubs your arms up and down lightly before slinking into the crowd, knowingly leaving you alone.

You sneak a peek over at John. He runs one hand through his curls as the other absentmindedly stirs the straw of his sweating drink. You watch him sigh, bringing the glass to his lips and gulping down the spirit without so much as a wince.

Hesitantly making your way over to him, you rub your clammy hands over the expensive material of your dress. This is the opposite of avoidance, you scold yourself, silently willing your feet to change direction. But your willpower has seemingly left the building.

You carefully perch yourself on the stool next to his, as not to disturb his brooding. He glances over quickly, doing a double-take when he realizes who it is.

"Oh, hello there," he greets you with a small smile. "I didn't know you had arrived."

You nod your head lightly. "How could you? It seems you set up camp over here."

"Ah, yes," he breathes, straightening his posture. "Wasn't our best tonight, I'm afraid. Not much to celebrate."

You take a sip of your water as you continue to nod silently.

"Actually," he begins, angling his body towards yours, almost slipping off his stool as you notice his apparent intoxication. "I was thinking about that conversation we had. When I met your spritely grandfather."

"Oh?" you question. Keeping your face neutral even though your heart was already buzzing at the fact.

"Yes. Mostly about how naive I was—all that bloody nonsense about finding a home. Do me a favor and never take my advice, will you? You'll end up completely wrecking yours."

This was a bad idea.

"It's just- you draw these lines for yourself in the sand," he drawls, waving his hands about in front of him. "A stupid phrase, really. Where did it even come from?"

"The Bible," you tell him quietly.

He lets out a big sigh, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Well, it's gotten it wrong before, hasn't it?"

You simply hum an acknowledgment, too scared to probe for fear of where this was going.

"Anyway, you draw these lines. Moral, physical, promises you make to yourself, things you swear you’d never do, dreams to accomplish," he lists out. "But sand moves about, dunnit? It blows all over the place. Makes a mess. Gets in your sandwich. And those lines blur. Or fade away. And all of a sudden, you've crossed them without even knowing! Broken those promises. Skipped right over those dreams."

He's too far gone in his rant to register the growing panic sweeping across your features.

"You were right. Sometimes you look in the mirror, and it's just a complete stranger staring back at you, isn't it?"

Trying to keep your breathing steady, you stare at the crumbling man before you. He runs his large hands along his face before ducking back into his former position, signaling for the bartender to bring him another drink.

This is precisely why you should've stuck to your original plan. What were you supposed to say to the man who was so obviously hurting from his failed marriage? So much so that it was pouring out of him. You know that if it weren't for the alcohol, he wouldn't be confiding any of this to you.

But there was a reason the boys called you the mom of the group, and it wasn't because you were the only female. You feel a pang of need to comfort him. You gaze at him, not with pity, but an overwhelming sense of empathy for the man and make up your mind.

You clear your throat to answer, brushing away your own warnings about how it would only sink you deeper into your fascination with him.

"I was wrong, actually," you start as he brings his head up to look at you. "And you know what phrase I hate? That people don't change."

He furrows his brow but remains silent as you continue.

"Maybe we're not made up of lines in the sand. Maybe we're the wind?" You try not to cringe at yourself and your poor use of metaphor. "And winds sometimes blow in different directions... but that's okay because it's where life is supposed to take them." Falling silent, you decide to quit while you’re ahead.

You're not ahead. You're not even out of the gate. What the fuck was that?

A slow smile inches onto his face as he holds your stare. "How did you get so wise for someone your age," he teases.

"And what age would that be?"

His mouth opens and closes as he studies your face. "Twenty?"

"Mm, close. Twenty-four."

"Really?" he ponders. "Freddie mentioned you dropped out of university."

"Ah, yes. The university I could only go to after working to afford it," you explain.

He continues to stare, the look in his eyes shifting slightly as he takes you in. A look that matches the color and intensity of uncharted, open water. You need to get out of here.

"Well, that explains your extraordinary use of analogy then."

Dragging your eyes off of his, you glance around at the party you were missing. Gladly missing, unfortunately.

"I should go check on Steve. He's having a bit of a night," you tell him as you stand. "Try not to drown yourself in those," gesturing to the new glass of whiskey in front of him.

"How can I drown myself? I thought I was the wind," he points out with a grin.

Before any more banter can ensue, you simply smile and make your way back to your friends. Thinking to yourself that maybe lines in the sand weren't so bad. And that perhaps it was time for you to start drawing some of your own.

#john deacon #john deacon fic #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #angelofmydreams

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justimajin · 4 years

Text

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 11

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 5.4k

⇝ Summary: Basketball is your everything; your passion for it running deep and wanting nothing more then to play the sport. Problem is, the sport isn’t offered competitively to girls and with that, all your hopes immediately fizzle away… …but who ever said that was going to stop you?

⇝ Warnings: pg13 (please check out the disclaimer on the first part); buckle up for some serious cuteness

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, May 26

The air is cool and brisk when you take a step in between the wide sliding doors, eyes wandering over to the domestic yet reserved layout. There are two narrow hallways positioned on either side of you, stretching out and leading into various rooms. A voice clears itself at your arrival, a young lady with a warm smile standing at the edge of a desk.

“Welcome!” She chirps, eyeing the remaining amount of individuals still pooling in, “How many rooms?”

“Uh…” Namjoon turns, doing a quick headcount before spinning around and returning her smile, “Four, please.”

Nodding, she begins plucking keys off her desk and hands them over to Namjoon. He gestures for all of you to follow after him when he slips into one of the hallways, multiple sets of confused eyes aimlessly walking on his trail.

“This looks better than our dorms.” Hoseok gapes in pure awe, a whisper tumbling off his lips.

“It really does.” Jimin reminisces, “But it’s not that bad for us.”

“Guys.” Taehyung announces, compelling everyone to look in his direction. He points over to the long window, the very one that draws attention to the large body of water outside.

“Are you kidding me?!” Hoseok scoffs, raising his arms in pure disbelief, “They have a pool?”

“Now that’s just sad.” Jimin pouts, observing the many racing individuals that splash around it with a longing gaze.

“We don’t need a pool.” Jungkook adds, “We play basketball, what we really need is a better court.”

“Yeah but swimming can be a form of exercise.” Hoseok eyes Jungkook, “You don’t think we need to stay in shape?”

Jungkook sighs when the latter keeps directing questionable gazes at him, eyes swinging over to you.

“What do you think Y/N? Do we really need a pool?”

He gives you a moment to answer, but is only given silence in return, “Y/N?”

“H-Huh?” Your eyes suddenly flicker and meet Jungkook’s, who wonders how you’ve missed his question when you’re literally right beside him, “Um, I don’t think having a pool is a bad idea…”

“SEE?!” Hoseok gets way too close to Jungkook, causing him to roll his eyes in dismay. Namjoon suddenly pauses in the middle of the hallway, keys intertwining into one room’s lock.

“Y/N, Jungkook and Taehyung!” He exclaims, all of your heads simultaneously perking up amongst the large crowd, “Your room is over here!”

Namjoon tosses the keys over to Taehyung and then gestures everyone to keep trailing behind him to the following rooms, which are right beside the one he had given you. Stepping inside, you immediately take in the large space the living room occupies and the giant window in the far back that gives you a wonderful view of the school. There are three rooms lined to the side that you presume to be bedrooms, alongside a small kitchen that appears bigger and much cleaner than the one in your dorms.

Taehyung and Jungkook instantly head in, dropping their bags onto the ground and exploring around the grand apartment. You remain at the door frame, still soaking in the scenery when there's a warm tap on the side of your shoulder. Swiveling around, your heart drops at the sight and he stands cemented to the door, eyes glazing across your own.

“Y/N.” It’s all he needs to say to bring flashes of memories from before, your eyes falling to the ground. “I-“

When he steps forward, you step back. You don’t notice the flash of disappointment it brings across him, form stiffening and lips tightened when he opens his mouth again.

“Yoongi!” A familiar female voice calls out for him, marching over to grab the sleeve of his shirt, “Namjoon’s been looking for you!”

He doesn’t answer when his eyes are still on you, desperately roaming over your features until Soyoung begins dragging him away. After a moment he deeply sighs, finally pivoting around and letting himself go with her.

***

The apartment is really nice; something you actually notice after taking a proper look at it’s interior. There’s a fresh breath of air to it when you take a glimpse along the window, noticing the pool underneath and a larger silver building you later on discovered to be the school’s library. It’s large and spacious, more than enough room for three people and appearing like it could fit at least six instead.

Although it’s welcoming and all, it’s something that only manages to peek out a small smile from you. You suppose it’s enough to spend the entire day in, but it appears that your roommates have other ideas on their mind.

“Come on, it’ll be fun Y/N!” Taehyung persuades, hands wrapped around your arm.

“I-I don’t know guys….” Truthfully, the last thing you wanted to do was go with them. It’s clear how eager they are to explore the foreign area, yet you can’t seem to word the unwanted desire to do so when Taehyung stares at you with hopeful eyes.

“I think it’ll be nice.” Jungkook confirms, squatting down onto the ground and placing a handful of water bottles into his large bag. He stands up, hauling the military bag onto his shoulders, “After just seeing the dorms, it’s pretty obvious at this point that this school is better than ours.”

You sheepishly smile, “Guys, really it’s okay. Just go on without me.”

A deep frown settles Taehyung’s lips at that, the door to your apartment barging open when Hoseok and Jimin tumble in.

“We’re ready!!” Hoseok shrieks, dressed in a bright red shirt and black shorts, a small colourful pouch chained to them. Jimin is behind him, wearing a giant pair of diving goggles you assume are for swimming.

“Not all of us.” Taehyung sighs, “Y/N wants to stay back.”

“What?!” Hoseok rushes over to you, clasping onto your hands, “But why?”

You shake your head, “I’m not feeling it, sorry guys.”

“Y/N, please.” Jimin steps forward, a pleading look in his eyes, “We won’t be out for long!”

“Yeah!” Hoseok nods, “Heck, just come for an hour and if you still don’t feel like it, we’ll bring you back!”

“Well….”

Four sets of eyes are glued to your reaction, practically gawking at you for a response. You softly laugh at the image, a small nod of your head releasing a thunderous cheer from them. With a sigh, you grab your bag and march outside, pausing for Taehyung to lock the room.

You smile when Hoseok and Jimin are beaming at your compliance to come along, but it’s cut off short when Hoseok’s volume raises.

“Namjoon! Yoongi! You guys should come with us!”

You immediately stiffen when footsteps draw near, gaze diverting over to the ground as Namjoon chuckles.

“Maybe later, I have to go meet up with the other team’s couch today.” Namjoon apologetically smiles, quickly filtering himself through the crowd and swinging by into another hallway.

After he departs though, a red head of hair chooses to stay back and Hoseok’s eyes beam.

“What about you Yoongi?” He questions, a wide smile stretched on his lips.

Yoongi simply shrugs, earning a loud sound of excitement out of Hoseok. However, when everyone begins to parade away as a group, his look of disinterest is mistaken when his gaze remains practically glued to you. It becomes a bit daunting, feeling as if his stare was starting to burn into the back of your head until you all exit the building.

Your eyes widen when you truly take in the grand expanse of the school, a modernistic view compared to the solemn and muted appearance of your own. It finally causes some interest to spark within you, eyes maneuvering around before they come onto a clean stop in front of a giant body of water.

Hoseok spins around, eyes suddenly serious and hands pointing towards everyone.

“Alright guys, we have a total of 15 hours before our next game. So have fun, try not to get sick and if you need to throw up, make a beeline for the bathroom because I’m not cleaning up after anyone’s leftover lunch. All clear?”

“Yes Sir!” Jimin cutely exclaims, raising up his hand as if Hoseok had just taken attendance. Without another word, he swirls and aims directly for the pool, droplets of water falling into the sky.

One by one, everyone follows Hoseok’s steps. Jimin holds hands with Taehyung and Jungkook, only for them to fling him into the pool by himself and to later mischievously laugh about it together. You soon find out that after whining about how unfair they were, Jimin ended up getting his revenge by pushing both of them into the water after sneakily showing up behind them. Hoseok on the other hand, is filled with protests when their antics cause water to repeatedly enter his eyes, on the verge of having eyeballs changing into the shade of Yoongi’s hair.

Yoongi.

You clear your throat and settle back into your chair by the pool, keeping your gaze concentrated on the water and not on your captain who has coincidentally planted himself down onto a chair that was right beside you. A soft smile caresses your lips when Jimin waves at you, legs hurriedly scrambling to get out of the pool and making his way over.

“We’re going to play volleyball! You should come!” He latches onto your arm but you gently push him away, shaking your head.

“I don’t really like the water.” You apologetically smile, “Sorry.”

“It’s just water! And if it scares you a lot, Jungkook can punch it away.”

Jimin shifts to show Jungkook submerged mid-way in the pool, boxing the empty air like he was in the middle of an intense game. The gesture itself makes you chuckle, even more so when Hoseok glances at him bizarrely and then points his finger to his head, whirling it around to showcase that their member had perhaps gone a bit crazy.

“It’s alright. Maybe next time.” You sheepishly wave your hands at him, but Jimin doesn’t just stop there and instead stares at the man indulging underneath the shade of a giant umbrella.

“Then the captain should come!”

Yoongi immediately shakes his head no, but he doesn’t have much of a say in it when Jungkook, Hoseok and Taehyung all arise from the water and lift him up. Although his protests ring heavy into the air, he doesn’t seem to mind much once he remains afloat in the water.

“Rules are simple. Just get the ball over to the other’s side team for a point.” Jungkook explains, holding onto the volleyball securely and ready to serve.

Jimin and Jungkook remain at the back as Taehyung swims to the front, while on the opposite side Yoongi mumbles to Hoseok that he’ll take the back.

The ball raises up high into the air and is sent flying over. Hoseok moves to hit it and it bounces back between Jimin and Jungkook before Hoseok throws it back again. This time Taehyung tries to hit the ball, but to his dismay he hits it in such a way where it falls down right in front of him instead over the net.

Jungkook and Jimin burst out in laughter as Taehyung splashes over to grab the ball, Jimin’s voice spiking up when Taehyung can only seem to shrug it off.

“What are you even doing?!” He plants a hand over his face, giggles still escaping him when Taehyung embarrassedly passes the ball over to Jungkook.

He gets ready to serve and Yoongi quickly swims to the back, assuring Hoseok that he won’t let the ball escape from him. However when Jungkook finishes serving, Yoongi splashes around in the water and to no avail is able to hit the ball.

Hoseok gawks at him in exasperation, even the opposing team laughing loudly at their captain’s antics. You can’t seem to restrain the laughter either, especially when Yoongi splashes around dramatically but still can’t seem to reach the ball. His eyes perk up at the sound, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he hands it over the opposite team.

Jungkook serves again, but this time Hoseok and Yoongi can’t even respond to his shot when the ball goes flying, off course of the pool completely. Hoseok whirls around, hands defensively clutched tighter to his chest as he glances at Jungkook in disbelief.

“Yah, are you mad or something??”

Jungkook bursts out laughing at that but Jimin realizes the ball is missing, swimming over to you. “Y/N, do you see it around anywhere?”

You get up the chair and scan around the area, noticing the ball had managed to roll over underneath another chair farther away. Lightly jogging over, you bend down and retrieve it, raising it up high into the air so the guys can see that you have it. Heading back, you don’t notice the trail of water that’s made it’s across the edge of the pool until your feet make contact with it.

Your eyes widen when you’re suddenly falling, form heading straight into the sea of water until you’ve been completely merged.

“Y/N!” Taehyung yells, all of the members hurriedly swimming to check on you only to realize that you’ve been pulled out by someone else.

Yoongi winces when half of your weight settles onto him, hands desperately clutching onto his shirt as you face him with your arms crossed over your chest. His hands don’t leave you either, remaining firm on your shoulders and his lip frowning when he sees your eyes anxiously flickering around.

“He’s okay.” Yoongi informs right away, moving to cover you when everyone draws near, “I’ll take him to the nurse, you guys continue.”

Hoseok opens his mouth as if to question further, but nothing comes out of his mouth when Yoongi suddenly lifts you up, tightly grabbing onto you as he leaves the pool.

***

You subconsciously dart your gaze around when you enter the building, quietly padding in after Yoongi as he walks. Your arms remain crossed, a trail of water dripping onto the floor.

“Stay here.” He whispers, knocking on a small room. When no one emerges, he slips in and grabs a long towel, draping it over your shoulders so that it covers you completely. Gesturing you over again, he brings you down to a long hallway that ultimately leads up to an office.

Twisting the knob, you first notice Namjoon sitting in the corner, eyes tracing over a book until his gaze darts up. Next to him is a woman wearing a flowery sundress, a large hat perched on her head and a syringe being adjusted in her hands.

“Soyoung.” Yoongi calls out, her eyes drifting over to him before snapping over to you. You immediately recognize her as the nurse that helped you when you had fainted in the midst of a try-out, and it’s something she remembers as well.

“What brings you here Yoongi?” She questions, leaving the syringe next to Namjoon and wandering over.

He gestures behind him, “He slipped and fell into the pool. Can you do a check-up?”

Her eyes flicker and she smiles, hand reaching out and tapping your arm. “Let’s go somewhere else, hm?”

You nod, leaving Namjoon and Yoongi to quietly follow after her. When you enter silence, you clutch the towel wrapped around you tighter, mind lighting on alert right away when Yoongi’s not around you. You’ve always noticed you’re less worried about your identity around him, having your secret exposed granting you the chance not to be so jittery all the time.

Soyoung brings you into a separate room, one much more private with curtains draped along the windows and a bed resting to the side. You cautiously sit down on it, the sudden realization that she’ll need to check parts of your body for injuries dwelling onto you and causing you to unconsciously clutch the towel even tighter.

After going through some of her supplies, Soyoung swivels around, a smile drawn on her lips at your stiffened form.

“You know, Yoongi wouldn’t have left you alone with me if he didn’t trust me.” Your eyes widen and she chuckles, a light glimmer emerging in her eyes, “Being a girl in a boys basketball team gets tough now, doesn’t it?”

Your jaw drops and you stammer underneath your breath, “I-I…”

“Fainted and was brought to my office, remember?” Soyoung cheekily whispers.

“R-Right…” Although you’re relieved to find out that you don’t need to come up with some bizarre explanation or random excuse for the situation, it’s still alarming to know that someone else knew your secret without your own knowledge.

Your eyes light up.

“Yoongi…h-how did he find out?”

“Hm?” Soyoung looks up, occupied with applying disinfectant to a small gash she’s found on your elbow, “Oh, he accidentally discovered it when you collapsed mid-way during try-outs for the team.”

She reaches up to ruffle your now short locks, a knowing smile on her lips, “After the wig you had came off, his suspicions were eventually confirmed.”

Your brows contort with the onslaught of new information, dots connecting to paint a picture. “That means he knew before I was selected….a-and he still let me onto the team….”

“Of course he did.” Soyoung replies, checking your forehead, “He understood what your story was and told me to keep it a secret too.”

You hum, growing silent by the minute as Soyoung steps back.

“You’re all set. There’s two cuts on your right elbow and ankle, but the biggest one is here.” She taps the side of your head where she’s placed the bandage, causing you to wince, “Keep this on until it’s fully healed, ok?”

Giving her a nod, she escorts you out and when you stare at her clueless from having reached there, she gives you a handful of directions so you can find your way back. With a friendly wave, you’re sent back, head still spinning around the new knowledge you've been given.

***

By the time you make it back to the dorms, the guys have returned and appear utterly exhausted. You find out that the game had eventually tied, but a downpour ended up ruining any motivation to win and they had all raced inside, spending their time drying off and chattering amongst each other as you returned. After that Jimin and Hoseok stay back for a while, the two reminisce about how they miss their old dorm and even though you’re only here for the game, they find themselves not enjoying staying in their new apartment. Following loads of persuasion from Jungkook and even Taehyung, they eventually make their way back to their place and the three of you settle back in to prepare for the night.

“Get some decent sleep you two.” Jungkook mumbles, voice sounding fatigued, “Tomorrow’s game is important, and I didn’t come all the way here just to lose.”

“I kind of want to lose so that we can live here from now on.” Taehyung remarks, causing Jungkook to glare at him as he frowns, “What? It’s better, isn’t it?”

Jungkook sighs, sending you a smile before heading into his room, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You reply, watching his door close shut as Taehyung approaches from behind you.

“Does it still hurt?” You’re confused until he points to your forehead, smiling as you lightly trace the bandage.

“Only a little.” He frowns at your response, poking the bandage only for you to hiss.

“Sorry! I just wanted to see how deep it was.” He removes his hand completely, patting you on the shoulder, “Sleep well ok? You need it the most.”

You nod and he disappears into his room. Stifling back a heavy yawn, you pad over to grab your backpack and haul it over to your shoulder before heading into your room. Unpacking some of your belongings, your mind begins to wander.

You can recall it so clearly, the devastation of losing the game and then talking to Yoongi. How his words felt like taking bullets to the heart, a haze of anguish and regret immediately flooding you.

A low sigh escapes your lips, grip paused on a shirt you had been withdrawing. Your hands thump against your bag, lips downturned.

There’s a small thud that resonates through the apartment.

You blink, glancing around and wondering if you had knocked something over by accident, but you’re given no confirmation until you hear another thud, this time coming from outside of your room…

Cautiously walking out, you contemplate if you should wake up Jungkook or Taehyung when there’s barely any sunlight peeking through the window. It would be strange for them if you were scared, but it’s in these moments where the instincts of being a girl unfortunately kick in and you know that it’s wrong not to direct attention to them.

Padding your feet over, you eye down the front door and move forward, bending down to place your ear against the soft wood. For a moment, it’s just plain silence that greets you – but then the door rattles again and you instantly retract back with a jolt.

“W-Who is it….?” You quietly whisper, hoping that you would get some type of answer to alleviate the impending distress you were being given.

“It’s me.” Your eyes widen at the familiarity, hands reaching out for the door and yanking it open.

Yoongi stands in front of you, hair slightly dishevelled and eyes appearing heavily drained, dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt and black shorts. You’re left speechless when he darts his gaze at you, baffled at the sudden emergence.

“Uh…” You begin, expecting him to speak up or do something to make his intentions clear. He only takes a step forward, eyes quickly surveying the inside of your apartment before whispering.

“Are they asleep?” He questions, brows raised. It takes you a minute to realize he’s talking about your roommates, eyes snapping up and head nodding.

“Good. Do you have a minute?” He gestures to behind him with his shoulder, causing you to quirk up a brow at the question. You debate if you should just tell him you were planning on going to sleep, but something that tells you at the way he sways from side to side in absence and eyes remaining intent, that there’s more left to the story.

Twisting around, you grab onto your keys and shut the apartment door, rotating the knob to make sure it’s firmly locked before facing him. He guides you like before, your naïve eyes following after him as you keep contemplating where he wants to take you so late into the night.

Your answer is revealed when a rough breeze whooshes past you, blowing past locks of your hair and ruffling up your shirt. The midnight air caresses your skin, eliciting a shiver down your spine at the freezing temperature. Trailing your gaze upwards, you notice the spiral of staircases above that Yoongi has already started to climb.

Quickly following his steps, you can only take occasional indulgent glances at the brightly lit moon, it’s dazzling beam shimmering down upon you and gratefully lighting a way so you don’t accidentally trip somewhere. Once you’ve reached the end of them, Yoongi jumps down onto the chalky concrete and reaches out to hold your hand when you try to do the same.

Pivoting around, you absorb in the escalating height that you have, eyes glancing down to view the entire school. Glancing back at Yoongi, you notice that he’s in the midst of shaking out a blanket he’s found, patches of it remaining damp.

“There’s only one…” He mumbles, warily glancing at you. It’s only when he notices you gradually inching over and slightly shivering that he chuckles, wrapping the blanket first around your shoulder before letting it slump against his.

Sitting down on the prickling gravel, you face the shining moon. Your eyes sparkle, taking in every aspect around you.

The chilling breeze, the damp yet warm blanket, the breathtaking view.

Craning your head, your eyes meet his.

Yoongi…

The longer you stare, the more the words are threatening to leave your lips. When they finally do, you feel a weight being lifted off your chest.

“I’m sorry….”

He raises his head, as if wondering if he heard you correctly. When you smile apologetically, he dryly laughs, a sad smile tugging at his lips as he looks away.

“Why are you the one that’s feeling sorry….”

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” You immediately interject, “What you said was right, I-I…just didn’t want to hear it.” A sigh leaves your lips, your grip on the blanket tightening, “You were looking out for me…”

And quietly protecting me, even when I couldn’t do that myself.

Yoongi deeply exhales, a tinge of pink creeping up onto your cheeks when you suddenly notice how close he is to you. Shaking off those thoughts though, you attempt to focus on your words – words you’ve been meaning to tell him.

“It wasn’t your fault,” He begins, “Seokjin would have found out either way, he’s got a sharp eye for these types of things.”

He shakes his head, “What I was trying to prevent was him getting close to you, because if there was a slight chance that something could have happened then–“

He pinches his lips together, darting his gaze on the ground. It draws confusion out of you, pondering onto his words until a light bulb goes off in your head.

“Y-You were protecting me…” Yoongi flinches at your choice of words, though you misunderstand the intention, “Are you cold? Here.”

You move the blanket so it covers him more but he sighs, almost making you wonder just how cold he was from the redness appearing over his neck and cheeks. His eyes move into your direction, a curious glint sparking in them as he aims to switch the topic to one he’s been very interested in knowing.

“Well?” He questions, raising a intrigued brow, “How did this even start?”

“O-Oh…uh,” You push back a lock of hair shyly, a lopsided smile gracing on your lips, “I wanted to play basketball competitively for a while, but there was no team available for girls at my school. When I checked into other schools too, there was always only a team for boys since most girls preferred to play the sport recreationally.”

You continue to explain, avertedly glancing away when Yoongi gazes at you, “A-And so I tried to convince my coach to create a team, but there still wasn’t much interest. I started to get really frustrated and then Hyerin, my best friend, joked one day that if I wanted to be on the boys team then maybe I should just be a boy myself….”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, “Why did you want to play competitive basketball so badly?”

Now that’s something that has always been tricky to answer, “I just…wanted to? I know it’s not an amazing answer but I found something I loved to do and just wanted to go for it.”

His eyes dim down, almost appearing calmer and gentler and you sheepishly smile.

“I can understand why you did it.” He straightens up, leaning back and roughly clearing his throat, “Although mine wasn’t extreme to the point where I dressed up as a girl, I had my own fight to pick.”

You shuffle closer in intriguement and Yoongi chuckles, a deep exhale leaving him, “I knew I was serious about basketball but my parents were really against it. They hated how I liked playing a sport over school and tried hard in convincing me that getting a normal job that paid normal money was the only thing I could ever do.”

Your eyes narrow, intently listening as he goes on, “I couldn’t explain it either to them….what being in that court is like. Having a team, winning together and training hard.” He snickers, “I doubt school would do that for me.”

He reaches out to swipe at your eyes, growing flustered when you couldn’t grasp onto the fact that a slip of water had run down your cheek. His hand drops down and you sniffle, voice dropping down into a whisper.

“I don’t think they know what you’re capable of.” Acknowledgement runs deep in your voice and Yoongi’s eyes light up at the sound of it. Though you begin to laugh strangely then, causing him to quirk up a brow.

“What is it?”

You shake your head, “It’s just….this school. I just wonder what your parents would think when they hear you inspired me to come here in the first place.”

Yoongi blatantly stares, astonishment crossing his features as he wonders if he heard right, “Inspired you?”

You use your best anchor voice, “The Great Min Yoongi, Bangtan Sondeyeon’s Ace Captain that’s returned for five consecutive sessions. Averaging in at 15 points and 3 rebounds, aiming to head into nationals soon.” A giggle escapes you and Yoongi suddenly turns away, but by now you know the deepening red spreading across him isn’t a result of the bitter cold.

“Yoongi.” You quietly whisper, but he still doesn’t face you and you giggle again, hand covering your mouth, “Yoongi, are you blushing?”

“N-No.” He sputters out, a wide grain stretching on your lips at his cute reactions. He coughs, supposedly clearing his throat. “So you came here because of me….”

You nod, beaming when he faces you now. “….and you disguised yourself as a boy because you wanted to play professional basketball.”

You nod again and he softly shakes his head, a thought sparking in you as you lightly laugh.

“Is it weird? Having a girl on your team?” It has always occurred to you that your situation isn’t exactly ideal for someone wanting to pursue the career, so you can only imagine what it feels like being the captain of a team that you’re part of.

“Not at all.” Yoongi’s serious response takes you a bit off guard, eyes sharp and words straight to the point. “I think it takes a lot of strength to do something like that.”

Your eyes enlarge, frozen in place when there’s a new emergence of admiration in his gaze. It results in you suddenly becoming hyper aware of how close you just are to him, the blanket only being stretched out enough to keep both of you covered from the cooling breeze.

When his breath ghosts over yours, you can only continue to stare with wide eyes when he leans forward, so close to brushing his lips against yours. Your eyes seem to automatically flutter shut at that, the moonlight gleaming so wonderfully, a fitful sliver casting over your silhouette’s.

He’s so, so close.

And yet so far away.

“Y/N!!”

The sound of your name elicits a gasp from you, eyes incredibly wide when Yoongi moves away with what you assume to be a whine.

“Y/N! Are you out here?!” The voice is deep, a sigh leaving you when you can pinpoint exactly who it is and knowing that they must have discovered by now that you weren’t in your room. You glance over at Yoongi, trying to gather some words to speak but he simply gets up and dusts off his shorts.

“Come on, I’ll take you back.” His hand instinctively reaches out for yours and for some reason the action is amplified, a cascade of red spreading over you immediately. You quietly oblige, cheekily holding his hand tighter and smiling when he squeezes it in response.

By the time you meet up with Taehyung, Yoongi decides to bid you goodbye and waves off the confused look your roommate holds. He saunters away, shoulders slumped down like he’s just incurred a huge loss and you can softly smile when Taehyung starts questioning where you had gone.

The night sky pools into your room, head hitting against the cushioning mattress as you drape the blanket over your legs. Although you’re prepared to simply flutter your eyes shut and snooze away, your eyes are only able to drift over the striking moonlight outside, a hand reaching out to brush against the tip of your lips. A shy smile graces your features, but then you slump into the mattress - being too aware that you’ll be getting anything except sleep for the night.

On the other side of things, the situation doesn’t seem to be any better when there’s a red head of hair tossing and turning around in his bed, skin flushed and mind statically wandering when the absence of sleep doesn’t graciously spare him either.

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satsuki2406 · 4 years

Text

Dear Aomi Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"I've seen you in a dream before, you are the warm and bright presence that embraced me on Cape Kamui a long time ago on a June afternoon."

Shinohara (Y/N) is a normal girl who had everything she could ask for, a loving family, a beautiful home, friends, and a fluffy cat. For a long time, she gave her life and happiness for granted, never imagining that she'll face one of the worst and crueler facades of society so closely, destroying what once was a happy, harmonious and normal family. One day, in hopes to recover what they lost, the Shinohara family took one of the more difficult decisions of their lives; leave behind their home back in Hokkaido and travel hundreds of miles south until Musutafu, the place that could grant them a solution and help close the yet fresh wound and scare away the ghosts of the past. Hardheaded, passionate, and ambitious (Y/N) is forced to confront the incarnated face of the superhuman society that she hated the most; Bakugou Katsuki.

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Dark Themes, My poor attempt of humor, Strong language (Courtesy of Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers, LONG ass chapter.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: School is a Great Place to Make Enemies

Chapter 2: My Stupid Classmate, The Angry Dandelion

Chapter 3:In Conclusion, This Day Was...

Masterlist \(￣︶￣*\))

4: Welcome to The Neighborhood

The salty breeze caressed (Y/N) face in a wavy motion mixing with the relaxing sound of waves crashing down the coastline. Along with her steady and calm breathing, those were the only things she could perceive in the endless darkness flooding her eyes.

‘A dream?’

Suddenly, her eyelids started to flutter little by little showing her a pretty familiar scenery. A long and meandering trail lay was in front of her, surrounded by the expanse of an endless blue sea. An old wood railing was the only thing shielding (Y/N) from a deadly fall to the humongous rocks nested around the rocky and long structure.

‘Cape Kamui? Again? Why do I keep dreaming of this place?! I haven’t been here in years! Do I miss my old home so much that my brain continues to bring me here? But, it looks so real…’

All of sudden, with the corner of her eye (Y/N) caught the silhouette of someone in the distance, they were with their back turned to her looking at the scenery without a care. That right there was new. This had become a recurrent dream since she moved, but in all the other occasions (Y/N) was there by her own, not a single soul was there, and now an unknown presence awaited ahead.

‘Should I talk to them? Well, I guess is worthed a try.’

With vacillating steps, (Y/N) walked forward to the mysterious entity, as she started to move along the slightly narrow path. Suddenly the wind became more and more agitated as she advanced, her hair moved haphazardly blocking her view frequently. Soon walking became more difficult forcing her to stay still, tightly gripping the railing. The blue and clear sky over her became gray and clouded.

‘What the hell?! Maybe if I try to-’

“E-Excuse me!” You shouted. “Do you know what is happening? I-I haven’t seen you here before! Do I-do I know you?!”

The inexplicable being seen to haven’t noticed (Y/N)'s attempts to make contact, but now she could catch a certain detail that had ignored before while trying to keep herself steady in the implacable bursts. The perimeter around this enigmatic character remained intact the whole time, even the portion of sky over them lingered cloudless and immaculate. The breeze swayed delicately what at your current distance seems to be a white sundress.

‘So, it’s a girl’

Abruptly a blaring sound started to resonate in (Y/N) head, she tried to cover her ears with her hands to no avail. Gradually her vision began to blur and a heavy sensation of falling invaded her body. Unexpectedly everything became black until-

“OUCH!!”

Once again, (Y/N)’s world took a 180-degree change of scenery, a more uncomfortable and painful one per se. There she laid on her bedroom floor, upside down, hair scattered, ungracefully contorted with her legs dangling over her head in something similar to a pretty messy plow yoga position.

(Y/N) blinked still sleepy and confused trying to remember what was going on before she ended up like this, but unfortunately, her abrupt awakening seen to had blurred her memory. All of sudden (Y/N) was brought back from her stirred thoughts as a soft knock was heard on her door.

“Honey are you-oh my! What happened to you?!” (Y/N) mother quacked as she entered your room, her face contorted in concern. “Here, let me help you, darling, I don’t think that position could be good for your back”

“O-Ok, thanks”

After her mother helped her to stand up again, (Y/N) decided to take a quick shower to relax and clear her mind. Now, more awaken and changed in her uniform she was sitting in her vanity stool absentmindedly brushing her hair trying to recall what kind of dream she had last night.

“It will be best if I stop to think about that, I’m gonna get a migraine, it was just a dream, no biggie.”

Once detangled, (Y/N) proceed to think how she would like to style her hair or just use it loose as always. “I don’t want to tie it but I want something different.” Instantly a bulb lighted up over her head, from one of the front drawers she took out a thin light blue ribbon. She put it around her head like a headband and knot it in a little bow at the side of her head.

Content with her simple but cute look she took her already packed bag and proceeded to go downstairs to have breakfast. In her way to the first floor, (Y/N) caught the aroma of fresh pancakes and coffee.

“Smells good!” (Y/N) excitedly exclaimed once she spotted her mom coming out of the kitchen with a stack of pancakes and a bottle a maple syrup to place them on the table.

“I’m glad you think so! I put some chocolate chips in the batter just like you like it!”

“You are the best mom!~”

“Oh, darling I know it. Now sit down and eat you have to leave to soon” (Y/N) did as her mother said, who shortly joined her with her morning coffee on hand. Both of them thanked for the food and dug in.

“Oh, now that I remember! Yesterday I met our next-door neighbor!” (Y/N)’s mom chimed happily.

“Oh really? What did you talk about?”

“Oh, she was really nice and chatty! Her name is Mitsuki but I don’t remember her last name, was it, Bai? Bandai? Bando? Oh, this terrible memory of mine is getting worse and worse every day!” (Y/N)’s mom complained.

“It’s funny that we’ve already met all our close neighbors but them. It’s weird if you think about it.”

“I guess so, she also said that she has a son your age that also attends Aldera Junior High! Maybe you could start going to school together and become friends! Probably he’s as nice as his mom.”

“Hmm probably” (Y/N) said mind absently. “Hey, mom…” She whispered while putting down her cutlery. “Did-did the doctor answered something about- you know…”

Akari paused her fork holding a piece of pancake in mid-air in front of her open mouth, shock spread all over her face. She quickly composed herself and cleared her throat. “He told us it was a long process, you know a lot of tests, blood works, scans and so… he told us not to worry too much, all the necessary requirements were successfully fulfilled. Don’t worry darling, everything would be ok; we have to be faithful.” (Y/N)’s mom reassured her as she squeezed her hand.

“I know but, I’m just… scared.”

“I know baby, I know.”

🏫🚲🏃🏻‍♀️

“I’m leaving now mom!” (Y/N) exclaimed from the front door as she put on her shoes at the genkan. “Alright, sweetie! Are you bringing your bento? Your handkerchief? Your pencil-case? Your toothbrush? Your phone? Your pouch with all your ‘lady necessities’?

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes.”

“Ok! Please take care and if anything happens call me immediately and I’ll go to pick you up. I have a meeting with a potential meat and seafood distributor for the new restaurant today but I’ll have my phone with me all the time at full volume.”

“Alright mom! Ittekimasu!”

"Itterasshai darling!"

After locking the door and taking her bike (Y/N) exited her house through the short gate door at the front, but stopped midway when her ears caught what sounded like a heated discussion next door, but the loud argument wasn’t the problem, it was one of the voices involved; an annoying, loud and really familiar voice to be exact.

‘No way…’

“I’m warning you Katsuki! Take your fucking lunch or I’ll personally deliver it to you, at school, in your classroom, in front of all of your classmates!”

“You wouldn’t dare old hag!”

“Oh, but I would! I didn’t wake up at fucking five in the morning to make a bento that you’ll refuse to eat! Now take it!”

“Piss off!”

*SLAP!*

“Don’t hit me old hag! I’ll kill you!”

“Don't you dare to talk to your mother like that you ungrateful brat!”

‘Nice my ass! What made my mom thought that this woman could be nice in the first place?! She’s shouting at her son in the middle of the street like a madwoman at 7:30 in the morning because he doesn't want his bento?! What is this?! Crazy Town?!’

“I already told you a thousand fucking times to stop making this shitty bentos! I’m not seven anymore! Not my problem that you are an old hag that can’t remember shit!

“What did you say?!’

“You heard me!”

‘I was lucky yesterday because I left earlier and he must walk to school so the chances to run into him were slim. Damn! Now I’m gonna have to wake up earlier to avoid him?! Fuck you, Bakugou! Why in heaven did he have to live next door?! Now I understand why the house was cheaper than it should have, the realtor said the former owner had trouble selling it because of the size and the prize, hah! What a joke.’

“Enough of this, I have to go before he notices me, I can get ahead faster so I won’t see him until I get to the class. Yes! Now all I have to do is walk away really slowly-”

(Y/N) put her escape plan in action immediately, moving as fast and quietly as she could even lifting the bike a little bit so the sound of the chain wouldn’t forewarn them of her presence. After a short but cumbersome trail, 2 houses away from hers (Y/N) hopped on her bike more than ready to cycle with all her might directly to the school when another voice resounded at the distance.

“(Y/N)! You forgot the bag with your P.E uniform!” Exclaimed Akari while she held the said bag for (Y/N) to see it clearly.

‘FUCK! No! No! Calm down just take the stupid bag and run! Yes! You can do it!’

(Y/N) pedaled at high speed towards her mother with an only goal in mind, ‘retrieve and flee’ Just a little bit more and she could make a clean escape. Just two feet more!

Putting all her skills on display (Y/N) did her best to balance herself on the bike with only one hand on the rudder while she extended her right hand as much as she could, ready to snatch the bag and leave for dear life.

‘Just a few inches more! Yes! You can do it! Just keep pedaling! Just keep!-’

“Oh! Akari-san! I thought I heard your voice!” Mitsuki beamed as she leaned out of her house entrance while she dragged her temperamental scion by the ear.

‘Son of a biscuit!’

“Let me go you shitty hag!”

“Watch your damn language brat! Can’t you see our lovely neighbors are here too!”

“Like I care for those extras! Let me go! I’ll be fucking late!”

*SMACK!*

“Stop with the fucking hitting!”

“Stop screaming!”

“You stop screaming!”

“Oh, isn’t this neighborhood lively, darling?~” Chimed Akari smiling amusedly at the scene in front of her.

“Aha…” (Y/N) petrified by her side, all willing to live left her body already.

‘I hate my life…’

“Oh! Bakugou!” Said Akari while she bumped the side of her fist over her open palm “Mitsuki-san’s last name is Bakugou!”

“And why couldn't you ‘ve remembered this important piece of information, I don’t know, like thirty-five minutes ago mother?” (Y/N) groaned.

“Oh, you know I’ve always had a bad memory, but I always end up remembering everything at the right time” Akari giggled. (Y/N) simply sighed for the umpteenth time that morning.

‘I’m exhausted already’

After a couple of minutes of bickering, the interesting ‘shoutversation’ mother and son had come to a halt when Mrs. Bakugou strongly hit her son’s head pushing it down in a bow like position.

“Oh, Akari-san! I’m so ashamed that you had to witness this! Katsuki can be a handful sometimes!” Said the blond woman with a dismayed expression.

'Just sometimes?'

“Oh, don’t worry!” Said (Y/N)’s mom waving her hand dismissively. “Teens are usually more temperamental, especially at this age. (Y/N) is not always a ray of sunshine, you know how hormones are.

“Mom!” (Y/N) exclaimed embarrassed, making the older blonde’s attention go from her mom to her, acknowledging her presence. The female Bakugou’s expression went from pensive to surprised, to excited to hopeful all in a matter of five seconds.

“Oh my! you must be (Y/N)-chan! Your mother has told me a lot about you! I’m Bakugou Mitsuki, but you can call me Mitsuki! This is my son, Katsuki! He goes to the same school as you! Katsuki say ‘hi’!” Said Mitsuki with a cheery voice.

*UNINTELLIGIBLE GRUMBLES*

“I SAID SAY ‘HI’ KATSUKI!!”

“OH MY FUCKING-! Hi or whatever!” sneered the seething blond.

“Umm… hi…” After her court response Katsuki seemed to tense slightly, like he just fogured out something. He then slowly rose his head and his wide, bloodshot eyes met (Y/N)’s unfazed yet irritated ones.

“THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE THIEF BITCH?!”

*SLAP! x3*

“KATSUKI YOU DISGRACEFUL PUNK! APOLOGIZE THIS INSTANT!”

“Make me old hag!!!”

*SLAP! x6*

“So help me Katsuki! I will take away all of your phone, Wi-Fi, and PS privileges!”

“I wanna see you try! And why should I apologize?! This shitty thief used her fucking quirk on me yesterday! If anyone should apologize, it's her!”

“Ha! Knowing you, you must have deserved it for sure!”

“Da fuck?!”

“I told you to stop with the fucking swearing!”

“You stop with the fucking swearing!”

‘Oh God help us all’

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