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#my little librarian heart has been so warmed by this video
driftbit · 5 months
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my two favorite pieces of hbomberguy's video were these two tests/rules he has for video essays and making media:
"When I think a video is being lazy, I do a little test. I check what sources the video used... and I compare it with the sources you would get if you went to the Wikipedia page for the topic." (Hbomberguy, 55:07)
"I have a little rule for quoting that other creators seem to use as well. If someone saw a clip of your video out of context, would it be possible for them to tell you're quoting someone and where it's from?" (Hbomberguy, 48:18)
These rules I think can be applied to both the act of watching and creating. If you're creating something not intended to be cursory in nature, where are you getting your sources? After that first wikipedia search we all love to do, where do you go from there?
If you're consuming something, and it is intended to be informative in nature, can you go to a random time in it and understand where their sources are coming from?
Sources:
“Plagiarism and You(Tube).” Youtube, uploaded by hbomberguy,2 December 2023, https://youtu.be/yDp3cB5fHXQ?t=3307. Accessed 4 December 2023.
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viastro · 4 years
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bookworm | jeon wonwoo
ミ★ synopsis: who knew that the cute guy you met at the library is one of the best players on the football team? literally everyone but you.
ミ★ genre: high school!au, jock!au, humor, fluff
ミ★ warnings: none !
ミ★ word count: 3,171
ミ★ pairings: wonwoo x female reader
ミ★ notes: i will be tagging @babiesanshine​ because she told me i have to tag her in anything i write that involves wonwoo. here’s a cute little oneshot i wrote, i hope you guys enjoy it <3
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The weather isn’t too cold. It’s at the temperature you like, where it’s not too hot, not too cold, but a good medium. However, it’s a sign that summer is truly ending, and you’re somehow going to miss it. Even if you did spend a majority of it staying in your room, either playing video games or sleeping. What can you say? Summer is truly the time to unwind. 
But today your mom had other ideas, having woken you up at ten in the morning. She told you to do something ‘productive’ with your last week of summer, aka, go the fuck outside. It’s now one pm in the afternoon, and you’re driving to the library because why the hell not? You’ve never been to the library before, and it’s your senior year of high school. Might as well see what books they have in case you’ll need to do a quick run to the library because of your classes. 
You stick your hand out the window, doing small wave motions while the air hits it. While you spent most of summer inside, you love the vibe it brings. It’s just the idea of being able to be free for three months, without the stress of deadlines, group projects, or finals. Smiling at the feeling of being free, you turn into the parking lot, parking your car under the tree. Turning off the engine, you step out of the car, letting out a small sigh as you stare at the old library. You straighten out your skirt, before walking towards the entrance, phone and wallet in your bag. 
You step into the library, giving the librarian a small smile in greeting. She gives you a happy wave, before going back to her work. You glance at your surroundings, taking in the ambiance of the building. It’s a bit brighter than other libraries you’ve seen, the wooden shelves being painted white, and the walls having a floral detail to them. It has a more happy theme I guess you could say. You let out a breath, somehow feeling like you’re going to come here more often at the cozy feeling it gives you. 
“Nice.” You whisper, before walking further inside. Your hand reaches out towards the shelves, letting it drag softly across the numerous books lined up. You perk up at a sudden thought and you head towards the kids section, wondering if they have your favorite children's books. You’re so caught up in thinking about the frog and toad series that you quite literally slam into someone and fall backwards.
You let out a squeak, closing your eyes as your hands prepare to soften the impact, only for you to realize that you’re no longer falling. You register the arms wrapped around your waist, and you’re 100% convinced that you’re being abducted by aliens. You slowly open your eyes, and they immediately widen once they land on the person who caught you.
His black hair is fluffy and falls over his forehead. He’s wearing specs, slightly covering his strong nose. You take notice of his eyes, a pretty shape that would make him seem more intimidating if he wasn’t wearing his round glasses. His lips are really pink, and he’s absolutely the most handsome guy you’ve ever laid eyes on in your seventeen years of living. He gives you a smile, and you feel as if you’re going to faint because, 
what the fuck !!! he’s so pretty !!!! this is fucking illegal !!!!
“Are you okay?”
oh my god !?!?! his voice is so deep too !!!!! i’m literally going to go into cardiac arrest-
“Um, hello?” He releases an arm from your waist, waving his hand in front of your face to see if you’ve passed out with your eyes open, and you almost fall into an internal monologue again because holy shit he’s only holding me with one arm, but then your eyes widen. You immediately fix your stance, his other arm falling from your waist as you are now standing on your own. 
“I… am so sorry.” You mutter, and he chuckles at your wide eyes. You open your mouth to apologize again and he shakes his head, smiling softly at you. “It’s alright, it’s partially my fault too. I’m just glad I caught you before you fell.” 
i quite literally fell in another way i won’t lie to you luv x
“Thank you for doing that. Saved my ass from some bruising.” You joke, only to shut your eyes at how suggestive that sounds. He gives you an amused look, finding you more endearing the more you speak. You don’t dare look at him, deciding that staring into the darkness of your eyelids is much more preferable at this moment as you would very much rather choke. He lets out a laugh, “It’s okay, you can open your eyes. Sometimes things sound a lot more suggestive than they should. It is what it is.”
You slowly peek at him, and see that he’s smiling at you. You stand up straight, letting out a small cough into your elbow, before grinning back at him. He extends his hand towards you, “Hi, I’m Jeon Wonwoo, 17 years old.” 
You stare at his hand for a second, somehow surprised that his hands are also really pretty. You reach out and softly grasp his hand, “Hi, I’m yln yn, 17 as well.” 
The two of you stay like that for a moment, him wondering how your hand fits his so well, and you thinking of how you’d really like to continue holding his hand. You regretfully let go first, giving him a smile. 
“So, what brings you to the library on the last week of summer break?” Wonwoo grins, giving you a shrug.
“I had a mission to read every book in this library, and I think I’m almost done.” You tilt your head at him, leaning back on the shelves and sizing him up. You purse your lips, and he crosses his arms in an attempt to make himself look more serious.
“Oh really?” 
“No, the mission was just for this science-fiction section actually.” He answers, dropping his tough facade and  motioning towards the aisle the two of you are in. You giggle at his antics, and Wonwoo feels his heart warm at the sound, proud that he was able to be the cause of it. “Why’d you exaggerate it then?” 
He turns his head towards you, giving you a big smile. “Wanted to impress you.” 
You look away when you feel your face turn warm at his honesty, reaching up and rubbing the back of your neck. You smile, turning back towards him once an idea comes to your mind.
“Wanna read children's books with me instead?” He purses his lips, before grinning at you.
“Only if we start off with frog and toad books.” 
“What kind of person would I be if we didn’t start off with frog and toad, Wonwoo?”
“I like you already.”
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“It’s been a month since I last saw you, and you wanna meet up at the big football game?” You ask into the phone, an amused smile on your face. You hear Wonwoo chuckle on the other end, “It’ll be fun. I can introduce you to some of my friends.” 
You raise an eyebrow, rolling over on your bed so that you’re now staring at your ceiling. You purse your lips, realizing that you can also introduce your best friend to Wonwoo, considering that she’s been incredibly curious of the guy at the library. Otherwise known as, 
your summer fling that isn’t really a summer fling because you guys haven’t done anything romantic other than smile at each other. 
Since school started, you and Wonwoo have been too busy to hangout. You thought he was a new student at your school since you surely would’ve remembered someone as handsome as him, but to your surprise, he wasn’t. Once you got home from your first day of school, you immediately called Wonwoo and asked what school he goes to. Turns out he goes to the high school on the other side of town, your school’s biggest rival when it comes to football. 
never expected him to be interested in football, let alone the biggest game of the year since our schools are competing against each other, but i miss wonwoo a lot.
“I’m intrigued.” 
“Is that a yes?” Wonwoo asks, a big smile on his face as he waits for your answer. He hears Seungcheol and Jeonghan make kissy noises from behind him, and he rolls his eyes. You grin, letting out a sigh to make it sound like you’re not as excited as you actually are. 
“I suppose it is. I’ll see you on Friday then bookworm?” You tease, and you hear him let out a chuckle, causing you to giggle yourself. 
“Yes you will gamer. I’ll text you later, my friends are being annoying.” Wonwoo tells you, laughing at the sound of Seungcheol and Jeonghan now whining at the fact that he insulted them. You smile, opening your mouth to say bye when Wonwoo adds, “I miss you. I’ll see you on Friday.”
Your cheeks heat up, and you hear Wonwoo’s friends in the background teasing him once again. Running a hand through your hair you mutter, “I miss you too. See you soon, Wonwoo.”
You end the call, placing your phone beside you. You bite your lip, big smile on your face, before grabbing your pillow and shoving it over your face. 
“aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”
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“Okay, where’s your boyfriend?” Jihyo asks once the two of you enter the venue, and you nudge her shoulder. “He’s not my boyfriend! Don’t call him that in front of him and his friends alright? I’ll literally eat your ass if you do that.” 
Jihyo winks at you, and you roll your eyes, causing her to throw her head back in laughter. She holds your arm, giving you a squeeze to show you she’s just teasing. You pull out your phone, curious as to which area Wonwoo and his friends are sitting, only to see his new text, 
wonoot: i’m running a bit late, just go and sit on the bleachers and i’ll find you later <3
You pout, “He’s running a bit late, but he told us that he’ll find us when he gets here.” 
“Okay, I think the game’s about to start so let’s go find a spot before everything gets taken!” Jihyo tells you with a smile, pulling you towards the stands. The two of you find a spot in the third row of the middle bleachers, giving you a solid view of the football field. You place your water bottle in the spot Wonwoo will sit, and you pull out your phone to tell him where you and Jihyo are sitting.
you: we’re in the third row, middle bleachers !!
“Those football uniforms really highlight their asses. Even if they don’t really have one, in those uniforms they do.” Jihyo says, and you snort at how true her statement is. You look up, seeing the football players running onto the field. You’re about to open your mouth to respond, when you catch sight of one of the players from the opposing team taking off his helmet. “Oh? That looks a lot like Wonwoo’s friend, Jeonghan. I didn’t know he played.” 
“He’s cute.” Jihyo mutters appreciatively beside you, and you nod your head. Wonwoo has a lot of pictures of his friend group on Instagram, and it shocked you to see that all of them are handsome. 
how you wished the guys at your school looked like this.
You watch as they all go to stand on the line, getting their names called over the loudspeakers. You tilt your head to the side when almost half of the opposing football team is filled with Wonwoo’s friends. “That’s so weird, almost all of Wonwoo’s friends are on their school’s football team.” 
“And Wonwoo isn’t?” Jihyo asks, turning to glance at you as she prepares to take a sip of water. You shake your head, before letting out a small giggle, “Probably because he’s a bookworm-”
“Now we have #96, wide receiver Jeon Wonwoo.” Your mouth drops open, and Jihyo spits out her water back into the bottle. You stare with wide eyes as #96 takes off his helmet, revealing Wonwoo who’s sporting a big smile on his face. He runs a hand through his hair, revealing his forehead and strong eyebrows. 
“Y-your summer fling...”
“He’s a jock?!” 
Wonwoo squints at the middle bleachers, trying to find you from across the field. Jun turns his head to glance at his friend, letting out a chuckle when he sees the expression on his face. He nudges his shoulder, “Your face looks stupid.” 
Wonwoo laughs, hitting Jun’s arm. “I’m trying to find yn, but she’s too far to see from here.” 
“Bet you gave her the shock of her life.” Jeonghan jokes from beside him, and Wonwoo smiles. 
“That was the goal.”
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“Let’s go Wonwoo!!” You scream, not even caring that some of your classmates are glaring at you for cheering on the opposing team. Jihyo cheers alongside you, doing a victory dance whenever Wonwoo’s team scores. 
It’s the fourth quarter, and Wonwoo’s team has the ball for the final seconds of the game. They need three more points to win, and there’s only thirty seconds left on the clock. In all honesty, they need a miracle to win this game. 
To say you were shocked when you found out Wonwoo was on the football team was partially an understatement. However, finding out that he’s really fucking good at being a wide receiver almost made you pass out. Wonwoo, the guy who spent the whole summer trying to read all of the books in the science-fiction section at the local library, is among the fastest and best players on his team. 
plot twist indeed luv.
You grasp Jihyo’s hand once they get out of their team huddle, watching Wonwoo go to his position. You feel anxious, and way too invested in a high school football game. The ball gets thrown to Seungcheol, and your eyes follow Wonwoo as he runs all the way down the field. You’re frozen once the ball leaves Seungcheol’s hands, shooting across the field towards Wonwoo. 
It’s as if time slows down, and your heartbeat is loud against your ears as Wonwoo lifts his hands up. You squeeze Jihyo’s hand tightly, and your mouth drops open when Wonwoo fucking catches it. You and Jihyo scream when he sprints the last few feet towards the end zone. 
“GO WONWOO!!” You screech, and you lift your arms up in victory when he runs into the end zone right as the buzzer goes off. Your eyes go to the board, 43-49. You and Jihyo jump together happily as Wonwoo takes off his helmet, a giant smile on his face as his friends run directly into him in a huge group hug. 
“Guys let go of him! He’s been dying to go see his girl.” Jeonghan laughs, and heat rushes to Wonwoo’s face once the guys start cooing at him. He slaps Joshua’s arm once he starts up the kissy noises. “Shut up, she’s not my girl yet.”
“YET?!”
“I heard a yet fellas!” 
“I hate it here, I’m gonna go see yn now.” Wonwoo says with a big smile on his face, effectively breaking away from his group and running towards the bleachers. 
“I think he’s going to see you! GO DOWN!” Jihyo shouts once she sees Wonwoo running in your direction. She grabs the water bottles before taking your arm and pulling you out of the bleachers. The two of you sprint down the stairs while you whine,
“Jihyo stop dragging me!” 
To which your loving best friend responds, “No bitch!”
You both run towards the opening in the fence, now on the track field. Wonwoo catches sight of you, running a bit faster until he meets you halfway. You let out a big smile, breaking out of Jihyo’s grip and immediately wrapping your arms around Wonwoo, even if he is sweaty. He freezes, before hugging you back, one hand cradling your head. You pull away after a moment so that you can look into his eyes,  your guys’ arms still wrapped around each other.
“You should’ve told me you were on the team! I would’ve made you a poster!!” You scold, and Wonwoo lets out a laugh. 
“I just won the biggest game of the school year and you’re yelling at me for not telling you I was on the football team?” He jokes, and you stick your tongue out at him. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Makes me feel like a bad gir-friend. A bad friend.”
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at your correction, and you look away as soon as you feel your cheeks turn warm at your mishap. Jihyo squeals quietly behind you two, taking as many pictures as she can. Wonwoo lifts his hand, resting it on your chin and making you turn your head so that you’re staring at him again. 
“Will you be my girlfriend?” 
“I beg your pardon?”
“Will you be my girlfriend?” Wonwoo repeats, an amused smile forming on his face when you turn your head to see if he was asking someone else behind you. He squeezes your waist with his other hand, eliciting a squeal from you. “We’re literally hugging each other and you think I’m asking another girl to be my girlfriend?”
“I mean… maybe?” You respond, and Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head at your silliness.
“But on a real note, will you be my girlfriend?” He asks more seriously, and you grin at him. 
“Of course Wonwoo, I’ll be your girlfriend.” 
“HELL YEAH!!!”
“LET’S GO BABY!!!” 
“MY SHIP HAS SAILED!!!!” You and Wonwoo turn your heads to see his friends and Jihyo jumping up and down happily at the two of you becoming official. You raise a hand up to your mouth as you laugh at their antics, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes. 
“I’m sorry about them.” He whispers to you, specifically eyeing Soonyoung and Seokmin making kissy faces towards you and Wonwoo. You turn your head towards your boyfriend, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, causing the guys and Jihyo to screech even louder. Wonwoo lifts a hand to the area, smile forming on his face as he turns to you. 
“Consider it a winner’s kiss.” You tell him shyly, giving him finger guns. Wonwoo laughs at your cuteness, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes widen, and out of the corner of your eye you see Seungkwan and Chan fall to the track, unable to express how cute they find you two in words and screeches. 
“Consider it a winner’s kiss as well, for getting me as your boyfriend.” Wonwoo jokes, and you roll your eyes. 
“So cocky.” 
“You love it though.” 
“Just a smidge, bookworm.”
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Found Diary...
This is 100% based on a TikTok I legit just saw by yoongi.xd so full credit to them for the idea :)
R/F/N = Random Female Name R/M/N = Random Male Name
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Fluff, angst(?), lemon(not really)
Au: Non-Idol au, High School au, Gender neutral! Reader, it's 2019, Yoongi is 17
Song: Bubblegum Bitch by Marina and the Diamonds
Word Count
Warnings: swearing,
Pov: alternating
POV - Y/n's First Person
High school... I hate it. I've always hated it. I feared going into high school since I was little. The only reason why I had any bit of motivation is that I got to see my best friend Yoongi.
Min Yoongi. The introvert who can do literally anything. It's crazy. I don't know how we ended up becoming friends, but we did. He's always been a tough cookie and had a hard exterior. Though it didn't take long for me to break into it.
It apparently took less amount of time for this bitch named R/f/n. They met about two months ago, and they're already sucking faces.
Which is what's happening right now.
"Can you guys like not to do that while I'm trying to eat?" I look at Yoongi and R/f/n and they pull away.
"No." R/f/n scoffs trying to pull Yoongi back in for a... I can't even call it a kiss. "No, R/f/n, it's okay. We can continue later, Okay?" R/f/n pouts and nods her head, making me fake a gag.
"Okay, Yoongi-Baby. I should probably get going then. I love you." She stands up giving him another kiss. "I love you too, R/f/n." They wave to each other and she exits the cafeteria.
"Fucking finally. I thought that you'd be stuck there forever." My comment makes Yoongi chuckle. "Yeah, she's really touchy. It's okay though. I like her a lot." He looks down with a shy smile on his face.
"Yeah, I know you like her a lot. And I'm so happy that you've finally found someone that makes you happy." He looks up at me and I smile at him. "What do you mean? You make me happy? You're my friend." The legendary words that make any fool break.
Being friends with him is great and all but I think I would prefer to be more. "You know what I mean, Yoongi. We're friends, not lovers. She makes you happy in a romantic way." I stick my spoon in the pudding of my school lunch and stir it around before deciding that there is no way in Hell am I going to eat it.
"Thank god you're not about to eat that. I probably would've thrown up if you did." Yoongi says chuckling before drinking the chocolate milk in a cardboard box. "It's chunky." He continues after setting the milk down.
I look at the pudding and pull a face of disgust. "Yeah, it's very chunky." I throw the spoon on the tray and look over at the clock on the wall. "We have 10 minutes to get to class... Do you wanna start heading there now?" Yoongi nods and we both stand up and throw our shit away.
As we exit the Cafeteria, this stupid fucking bitch, R/m/n, throws a basketball at me. I hate guys. "Yo Yoongi! You gonna play later? Also sorry..." He stops for a moment and looks at me. "You." He then looks back at Yoongi.
"Nah, I promised Y/n that I'd help them with their homework." R/m/n nods and walks away. I completely forgot that I had asked him to help me.
"Thank fucking god it's Friday. I literally don't wanna have to deal with these fuckers for much longer." Yoongi says wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
~ After School~
"Do you really need help? It seems as if you just wanted to hang out?" Yoongi drops the notebook onto his bed and looking at me. Obviously, I lied. I look away in shame, and he chuckles. "If you wanted to hang out, you could've just asked. We're friends after all."
"But it seems as if we've been so distant." He lets out a long sigh and he rubs his eyes.
"Is this about R/f/n?" Yoongi raises his voice a little bit, making me jump.
"No, it isn't about R/f/n. I mean it kind of is bu-" Yoongi lets out a long irritated sigh.
"Why do you hate her so much? What the fuck did she do to you?" He yells at me.
"I never said I hated her!" Even though I do despise her, I would never admit that, especially to Yoongi. "What the fuck is your problem? Why are you getting so mad at me?" Suddenly, I'm angry. All I wanted was to hang out with Yoongi outside of school after what seems like the first time in months, and he's getting angry with me for no reason? Oh hell no.
"Recently all you've been doing is complaining about the fact that we're never with each other, but you're forgetting that we literally go to the same school and that we have most of the same classes! It's so fucking annoying!" I'm furious now. I stand up and start packing up my stuff with tears in my eyes.
I'm not crying because I'm sad, I'm crying because I'm angry. I run out of his room and get my shoes on at his door. "Y/n... I didn't mean to-" He calmly states as he stands at the top of the stairs.
"No. Fuck you Min Yoongi." I finally walk out of his house wanting nothing more than to lay in my bed. I want nothing more than to be at home, in my own room, with my headphones in, curled up under my blankets. I stomp down the street speedily, I turn around and see Yoongi standing outside his house.
"Yeah... fuck you Min Yoongi," I mutter looking forward again.
~
Lunchtime... It used to be my favourite subject in school because that's when I got to see Yoongi. It's been about a week since our fight. It was such a silly fight as well. I also haven't felt like eating out in public, so I haven't been buying any lunch.
Yoongi seems happy. He's been with the basketball players, their girlfriends, and R/f/n. He's acting as if nothing happened, as if he didn't freak out at me. I only have two other friends other than him, and one of them, Tara, doesn't have the same lunch as me.
"Hello~ Earth to Y/n!" Tommy says, waving his hand in front of my face. Tommy and Tara are twins, and they both happen to my two other friends. Convenient, I know. "You've been staring at Yoongi for the past ten minutes." Tommy continues before taking a big bite of his sandwich.
A sandwich that includes turkey, bologna, provolone cheese, mayo, and tofurkey. For some reason, he likes the smokey flavour of the fake meat mixed with the real meat. "Yeah, I'm aware I've been staring at him." I roll my eyes, playfully making Tommy laugh.
Tommy. Twin brother of Tara. Both are seventeen and from America. He has messy brown hair and greenish-brown eyes that look green in the right lighting, and in another lighting, looks brown. Cheap warm-tones cafeteria lighting makes his eyes the in-between colour of hazel. He has pale skin with natural red cheeks, along with freckles across his nose. He's not unattractive but he's definitely not on most people's level of beauty.
"How are you after the fight?" He says nonchalantly, peeling the crust off of part of the sandwich he's about to bite into.
"I wouldn't necessarily call it a fight. More of a 'he flipped and I didn't wanna deal with it' situation." I pick at my nails anxiously. I don't wanna talk about this. Tara knows that, but I guess she didn't tell Tommy.
"Yeah... Right." He says squinting his eyes at me to show he doesn't fully believe me. "Anyway, you wanna hang out after school? My biological dad sent a new video game if you wanna try it with me." I look at him with wide eyes, making him chuckle a little.
"Fuck yeah! What time?" He stops and thinks for a moment.
"Four-Thirty? I have theatre club after school."
I also have stuff after school to do. Not like a club, I mean I guess you can call it that, but I just go and chill out in the Library, reading a book with a group of other students. It's not a club where you have to sign up to be in, but more of a free-range. It's fun and relaxing, especially since I don't have to talk to anyone there unless the leader really wants us to, which she's an introvert and doesn't want to.
~
Alas, the school day is over. It's two-fifteen, the bell has rung indicating that we can now leave, but I head over to the library. Oh, I'm the first one here. I take a deep breath as I sit in the comfortable cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the Library. This area is very isolated, which is why we sit over here. It's quiet and away from other students who are wanting to come in here and study or something.
Though it's isolated, in the seat I am in, I have the perfect view of the door, which is open from Seven-thirty to two-fifteen, and then after, the Librarian, Mr Kim, who isn't too much older than us, closes the door but it remains unlocked.
It's now two-thirty, most of the kids that usually show up are here reading their books, there are a few new students who just wanted an escape, and-
"Ayo Yoongi pass the ball!" I look over at the door and see a dude, I recognize as R/m/n catching the brownish-red ball from a shorter boy with dark hair, I can obviously notice is Yoongi, especially since R/m/n called his name. I whine slightly as I slump into my chair. I hear the girls who are misogynistic for their boyfriend's validation giggle as they watch the guys.
Please God... don't let them see me.
Luckily they didn't, and I continue reading until I finish the book. Then I packed up my stuff and decided that it was better off that I leave early.
POV- Yoongi's First Person
"Hey, Yoongi~" R/f/b comes strutting over with her friends with a notebook in her hand. That looks like Y/n's notebook... she never let anyone touch it.
"I found Y/n's diary." She smiles mischievously.
"Let's read it!" R/m/n says, and the others agree. "But Yoongi should be the one to read it." R/f/n rolls her eyes before handing it to me.
I don't really wanna have to do this...
"Dear Diary, I will be writing all of my important accomplishments or just important things in general here. So starting with today, we have a new kid. He's really cute, I'm afraid to talk to him though."
"Boring! Skip forward!" One of R/f/n friends say. I nod and skip a few pages. October tenth two-thousand thirteen... that's when Y/n and I met.
"Today is October 10, 2013. Oh, dear Diary, I met a boy. He made my dull heart light up with joy. He's shy and kind of mean, but I think I can become his friend. I'm gonna keep trying."  Oh god... I continue reading every few pages until the most recent...
"Dear Diary... we fell apart. He yelled at me and called me annoying. I had lied to him, saying I needed help with homework, when in reality, I just wanted to be with him. I wanted to be with him outside of school, with no interruptions from his basketball friends who always push me around when he's not there, with no interruptions from his snobby girlfriend to told me to go kill myself and to stay away from him. Just him and I. But when he noticed that I didn't actually need help, he flipped. I don't know what I did wrong... maybe it was because I kept it a secret that his friends are so shitty. At least I still have Tommy and Tara. They're the only ones I need. Oh, who am I kidding? I miss him so much. I love him." My heart stops as I continue reading. I look up at the people around me who just stare at me awkwardly and apologetically.
"Did you guys really do that to them?" I take them not answering as a yes. I look down at my watch to see it only just hit four o'clock. I have to go see y/n...
I put their diary in my bag and swing it over my shoulder before running out of the library. Everything seems to have turned in slow motion. My heart is pounding My friends are yelling after me, but all I want is to see y/n. I want to see their beautiful smile again. They like me... They like me. I was so blind to notice, but now I think about it, it was so obvious. I smile while running as I think about all the moments I have had with Y/n.
I finally arrived at Y/n's house, I'm out of breath and my legs sting. I walk up to the front door...
POV- Y/n's First Person
It's currently Four twenty-five, so I should probably start heading out to Tommy and Tara's house. Just as I open the door, I am greeted by someone I really don't wanna see. Yoongi.
"Y/n..." He lets out a long sigh and a small smile. "I'm so sorry. I fucked up. I don't even know why I freaked out as I did." I just stand there. I don't know what to say to him. I miss him... I miss being with him. I open my mouth to say something, but my mouth is dry and I can't say anything. Yoongi steps closer. My heart pounds out of my chest. His hand makes contact with my hip hand and...
The world around us has stopped. Nothing else is important. Min Yoongi is standing in my doorway kissing me. His single hand on my waist, slides around to my back, pulling me closer. We can't...
I push him away. "Yoongi..." I whisper. I didn't mean for it to come out so quietly, but with how nervous I am I can't help it. I want to kiss him. I've always wanted to... but now that it's actually happening-
"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much. I'm so sorry... please I need you back in my life... I never realized your feelings for me until just recently, and because I finally realized, that made me rethink everything. I never truly liked R/f/n... I never felt the way I do when I'm with you. You make me happy." He pants, pulling me toward my living room couch. I comply and sit next to him.
"Yoongi... I really like you. I always have. But you never liked me, why has that suddenly changed?" I want to cry. I feel so overwhelmed by everything. He shrugs before placing his hand on my cheek.
"Can I kiss you again... please?" I don't even care anymore. I nod and he pulls me towards him. His soft upturned lips make contact with mine. I move his silky hands from my cheek to my waist, and I hold onto his face. Yoongi's tongue tries to enter my mouth, but I allow it. I suck on his tongue as his lips are still pressed to mine.
Knock Knock Knock Knock
We pull away quickly. He laughs at the string of spit connecting us before I stand up and go over to the door.
"Hey, Tommy."
"It's five o'clock... is everything okay?" I look at my phone and my eyes widen. Has it really been thirty minutes since Yoongi got here?
"Yeah everything's fine, I'll be over in a minute though, okay? I might need to even wait until my mom gets home so she can drive me over since it's getting dark." Tommy nods and smiles. He waves and walks away, so I quickly shut the door and walk back over to Yoongi. "My room, now," I say softly and we both run up the stairs and into my room.
It's been a while since he's been in my room. I never told her, but my mom knew I liked Yoongi and as much as she trusted him, she felt afraid that he would do something.
Yoongi tackles me onto my bed after locking my door. His hands are on either side of my head. He dips down and starts leaving small kisses up my neck to my mouth, once he reaches my mouth he just barely touches it. "Yoongi... please..." I whine and he chuckles. I tangle my fingers in his hair.
Oh god, his beautiful dark hair. People wouldn't consider his hair curly, but it has some natural texture to it. So silky and soft. So healthy... every damn thing about Yoongi is perfect. His soft lips trail from my mouth to the soft dimple on my cheek, down my neck. He lingers at my neck for a little while, allowing me to feel how perfect even his lips are. So good at kissing, I guess that watching him and R/f/n make out had to lead me to think otherwise... R/f/n.
"Wait... Yoongi." He pulls away with a hum and looks at me. His dark lust-filled eyes have now turned into precious puppy dog eyes. They're glossed over and widened, as his lips are in a pout. "What about R/f/n?" He chuckles, making me embarrassed for asking.
"I'm done with her. Don't think about her, or Tommy, or R/m/n, or Tara, or Mr. Kim, or Ms. Jung. Think about us." I nod and he leans down to kiss me again, but before he can, someone knocks on my door.
"Y/n, I'm home." My mom says on the other side of the door.
"Okay, hi mom!" I call out, Yoongi flops softly onto the space next to me and wraps his arms around me.
~
"Tommy give me my phone!" I yell as Tommy and I run around my living room. Yoongi and Tara laugh at us, and I finally grabbed my phone from him and stuff it in my pants.
"Do you really think that'll stop me?" He says reaching towards me, but stops when Yoongi lets out a cough. "Sorry, Yoongi. Didn't mean that in a creepy way." He awkwardly apologizes and we sit down on the couch. I drape the blanket over Yoongi and I, as Tommy and Tara fight over who gets to hold the popcorn.
"I thought this was gonna be a calm movie night," Yoongi whispers in my ear with a smile. I let out a soft laugh and look over at the two twins.
"At least Tara isn't threatening to shove her fist up his ass again." Just as I say that, Tara then yells she was gonna shove her fist up Tommy's ass.
"I don't want anything else than to be here with you guys," Yoongi whispers again, placing a kiss on my nose. "I love you."
"I love you more."
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letsperaltiago · 4 years
Text
i love you and i like you
Based on @stars-my-darling's adorable post: 
“When Mac starts talking he will sometimes just randomly tell Amy that he loves her, usually at the end of an unrelated sentence. They later realise that he learnt to do this because Jake is always randomly telling Amy that he loves her and Mac is copying him." aka. 5 times toddler Mac Santiago-Peralta tells his mommy he loves her
Also includes prompt #101 from the 101 fluffy prompts-list: "…They just grow up so fast."
Read on ao3
Every like and reblog is appreciated <3
Amy Santiago has so far had a lifetime’s worth of great jobs, which, she knows, isn’t that hard when you love work and everything it implies. Everything from assisting her middle school’s librarian to that brief job at a small uptown museum her degree got her to being a respected sergeant in the NYPD. She’s loved every single job but, she’s now come to realise, nothing vill ever beat her most recent employment: Motherhood. With a capital M, yes.
Mac throws her and Jake’s worlds over like the tiny miracle of a storm he is and they’ve never looked back since. It’s brand new, it’s exciting, it’s scary, and though they’re not exactly religious, he’s the answer to their prayers. Parenthood turns out to be nothing like what they’d expected, like nothing they’d ever tried before and looking past some of the rough days, which are inevitable, it’s actually even better. They get to shape and watch a human grow; a human of which they’re both the genesis and they couldn’t be any more proud - both of each other but also their son.
Everything Mac does and achieves is a moment to remember, and they take nothing for granted: every new sound, even simple gurgles, every new movement, even the flick of a tiny finger? They beam, look at each other with wide, joyous eyes and celebrate their newborn addition to their little family. They hold on to everything they can, while they can although, they swear, every other day they’ll be lying in bed with him while he sleeps or watch him begin to explore their apartment on his own and they’ll take turns breaking the comfortable silence with what they’re both thinking:
“They just grow up so fast.”
Even if he’s merely grown a tenth of an inch since the last time they brought it up.
This fact aside, before they know it, their before so very tiny and helpless son can sit without assistance, sooner than later starts crawling and before they seem to have the time to catch up with the ladder he suddenly knows how to say “mama” and “dada” - and the day Mac takes his first steps, Amy filming on her phone while Jake is squatting to entice his son? Both parents guiltlessly shed a tiny tear rewatching the video that night after their little one, who suddenly seems so big, is put to bed.
With the walking comes the talking. Mac, like his dad, is an entertainer and seizes every chance he gets to chat with his parents, and anyone else who’ll listen for that matter, and hopefully make them laugh. Amy quickly sees through the fact that her son’s mannerism is definitely inspired by her husband’s, and Amy’s heart swells at every glimt of it: everything from Mac’s tiny ‘big dramatic movements’ to him attempting to crack small jokes (that sometimes are actually super funny but also mostly make people laugh because his delivery is beyond precious). Despite the fact that his personality is absolutely a solid blend of both parents, Jake’s genes definitely conquer everything else, and Amy doesn’t mind one bit. Although she could do without the short, Peralta-inspired attention span, which can be both very cute but also slightly maddening when you’ve told your barely 3-year old toddler 6 times to finish their meal meanwhile he’s to preoccupied by his father cleaning up the water said toddler spilled just seconds ago.
All in all, Mac is a copy of Jake, and in more ways that one Amy is grateful. Especially when the little boy starts getting a grasp of the word ‘love’ and what it actually means though his parents have showered him with it since before he was born. Jake and Amy will tell Mac ‘I love you’ on the daily and, besides this, his parents themselves aren’t exactly shy of telling each other, especially Jake who often tends to do it out of nowhere or any kind of context which the boy must’ve picked up on at some point.
It starts off quite naturally: the first time he says it.
One night after getting him washed down and put into his favorite firetruck-print pyjamas (the parents couldn’t deny him it even though they were far from thrilled), Amy’s sitting with Mac in his new so-called ‘big boy-bed’. Feeling her son’s curly-haired head nestled into her chest, one hand grabbing onto the fabric of her shirt while the other holds onto his best buddy Leo the Lion, Amy reads out loud from one of the many books she’s managed to accumulate for her son. Obviously worn out from the day Mac, as being almost 3 is very exhausting, stays silent and listens carefully to the sound of his mother’s voice, dutifully paying attention to the book’s colourful drawings and even sometimes pointing at them whenever Amy reaches a part of the story that’s been illustrated.
“Then the little puppy ran through the big big field and the big big forest to get back home-“
“Shee, Mommy,” Mac interrupts her with a lisp caused by the pacifier hanging from one corner of his mouth and points to the drawing of the running dog with his index finger. “Doggy runth!”
“Yeah, I see, baby,” she smiles before pecking the top of his head. Normally she’d ask him to remove his pacifier when he speaks. Her and Jake slowly trying to make the object something Mac knows he can use to relax rather than constantly needs, but when it’s this late and right before bedtime Amy can’t be bothered to reprimand him. For now she’s just proud of her tiny, smart guy. “Where is he running?” She pulls back to look at him, encouraging him to explain further.
“He’sh going home!” he smiles proudly to a point where his pacifier almost falls out, just barely clinging on for dear life.
“That’s right. He’s running home to his family - good job,” she chuckles sending him one last smile before skimming her wristwatch quickly realising bedtime is just minutes away. It’s not that they’re following a strict schedule that depends on every single minute and second of the day: something she’s actually glad Jake’s and his more laid-back lifestyle has transferred to their parenting-style. Although Mac, his parents have come to find out, will reach a point during the evening where it’ll be too late and he becomes overtired and impossible. Therefor 8 PM is the ultimate limit (on weekdays, that is) and Amy sees it quickly approaching so she quickly finishes up their story and shuts the book closed.
“That’s it for today, Mr. Mac. Time to visit dreamland,” simply not able to resist the feel and smell of her son’s newly washed curls, she places another kiss to the top of his head before climbing out of the small bed and hears him reply with a yawn which tells her that she’s probably timed bedtime perfectly. To the great delight of the now also tired mother (a high rank full-time job and a toddler will do that to you) she’s once more proved right when Mac gets under the covers without a trace of fight.
“Roshie?” he looks up at his mother with worried eyes as he hugs Leo the Lion a bit tighter. Those stupid beautiful brown eyes he’s inherited from Jake.  
“Oh,” Amy kneels down to the bed’s side and starts running her hand all over the duvet, mattress and bed-frame. “Where’s Rosie, bud?”
Rosie aka. the pink unicorn he’d gotten from auntie Roro back when he was still a tiny baby (though he’d always be Amy’s tiny baby) was missing and they both knew very well that there would be no sleeping without it. Suddenly her hand comes across a bump, to her relief revealing the stuffed animal once she lifts up the duvet.
“Yay, mommy!” her son smiles as if she’s cracked the mystery of the century and Amy can’t help but feel just a bit proud - anything she does that makes her boy happy will do that to her.
“There you go,” she smiles and places the unicorn in his arms right next to Leo the Lion. “All good, Mr. Mac?”
He nods profoundly, eyes suddenly clearly tired and droopy, which earns him a warm smile from his mother before she leans in and kisses his forehead tenderly, all at once running her hand fingers his curls as to get her one last fix for the day. Incredible how your child can become somehow addicting.
“Sleep well. I love you,” she pulls back to take him in, the declaration of love hanging in the air for a few seconds before, taking Amy by surprise, her son answers her.
“I wuv you.”
She knows ‘love’ is an abstract feeling that a toddler can’t really comprehend and isolate as an emotion, which is probably also why Mac’s never said it back before, and although she’s told him a million times before and has never awaited or needed an answer, him saying it back definitely throws her off in the most magical, proud, emotional way in a long time. She’s constantly proud of the little things he does on the daily, slowly becoming a tiny actual human with opinions and a personality, but this is a whole new level.
“Thank you for saying that,” she can feel tears forming in her eyes and throat, but doesn’t want to confuse the small child who’s just begun to understand ‘love’, and therefor doesn’t also need to be explained that crying can also be a sign of happiness. That is an oxymoron that will surely just confuse him when, currently, crying is Mac’s way of expressing and understanding sadness and anger.
“That was very sweet of you and I love you so so much too, baby,” she manages to say it one last time, without breaking, before getting up to turn on his tiny night light and leave. “Me and daddy will be just down the hall watching TV, okay?”
A slight movement from beneath the duvet lets her know he’s heard her before she allows herself to half-close the door and walk back to where Jake is cleaning up after dinner. There she is finally able to let out a few soft cries as she lets her husband in on the small, incredible moment she’s just had with their son. Of course, it instantly makes Jake feel like crying with joy too. Their baby is surely the best.
From there on it’s just one big mess of declarations, at the most random moments and Amy is very amused but also even more enamoured.
One night Jake is away on a stakeout which leaves Amy is home alone with Mac, and to the toddlers immense joy this means he’s allowed to sleep with his mom in her and dad’s enormous bed. Jake has told him to keep mommy safe while he’s gone and of course takes this task very seriously. It’s 3 AM, they’re both fast asleep when suddenly Amy is awoken by what seems to be quite some new weight on top of her chest.
“Mommy,” promptly breaks the silence slowly bringing Amy back to consciousness.
It takes her a second to collect herself but she instinctually reaches out to figure out exactly where her son is in the dark. It’s quickly clear that he’s stretched out stomach down across her chest. “Yes, baby?” she mumbles tiredly eyes still closed hoping that her son is just being restless and will go back to sleep.
“I need pee.”
“Oh.”
This, with a power that almost no other request from her son holds, immediately dawns upon and takes over her body pushing her to sit up. Mac is pretty much fully potty trained but only day-wise. During the night he still uses a diaper, and they’ve only just recently started easing him into the night-potty by telling him it’s an option. The boy showing initiative himself is an absolutely great start and even more importantly an opportunity she won’t let slip by.
“You wanna go use the potty?” she looks at him to make sure and he immediately nods. “Okay, lets go then.”
And so they scurry out of bed and make their way across the hall to the bathroom, hand in hand in the darkness, where once the light is turned on Mac’s potty awaits him.
With a bit of help from mommy, he pulls down his pyjamas pants and diaper before getting settled on the potty. There’s no hiding the fact that they’re both very tired, especially Mac whose head hangs a bit, almost asleep while giving in to his body’s need for relief while Amy sits dutifully on the floor besides him.
“Good job telling me, Mac,” she praises, smiling tiredly but the little boy is too tired to even react.
They stay like this for a while, in silence, Amy not wanting to interrupt a probably concentrated Mac, when suddenly he, to her surprise, is the one to break the silence.
“I’m peeing and I love you, mommy,” he mumbles tiredly almost fully asleep right there on the potty, messy curls hanging in whatever which way gravity will allow.
Then, as if she’d never been tired, asleep, woken up and feeling exhausted, Amy’s body rises to a much higher level of awareness. Warmth, one that completely makes her forget about the bathroom floor’s cold tiles, spreads throughout her entire being and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was currently trying to pee, Amy would’ve pulled him into the tightest hug right there. But she doesn’t, of course, and instead settles for a gleaming smile.
“Mommy loves you too, honey,” He’s her very own bedhead, she thinks to herself lovingly running a hand through his hair. “And I’m so proud of you for waking me up to go potty.”
It’s very faint, too tired to put much effort into it but there’s definitely a small smile growing on her son’s face, When he falls asleep on top of her chest a bit later after he’s done and has been put into a clean diaper, just to be safe, the smile is still there, Amy can tell even in the dark.
Another occasion, it’s safe to say, happens when Amy leasts expects it. They’re running on ‘tantrum from hell: hour who-even-knows-anymore’, this time triggered by the banal fact that, no, Mac wasn’t allowed to play with the big knife Jake had been using to cut vegetables for their dinner.
Everyone has their bad days, the parents are well aware, but this one of Mac’s was particularly bad. All day, from the minute he woke up and went straight to the living room instead of joining his parents in their bad, he’d been extra fussy thereby not feeling content with whichever way his parents tried to fix his mood. They’d been understandable and gone easy on him all day, hopelessly trying to please him while also not just giving in to his unreasonable demands. It appeared that this was very a fine line to walk, and so far it sure hadn’t offered them the intended results. Both parents were exhausted and Mac screaming was far, so very far, from their ideal way of spending the evening in.
Both Jake and Amy have tried experimented with different tactics, some that are known to work. Picking him up to soothe him; ask him if he’s hurting somewhere; offering him to choose one of his daily snacks like a glass of milk, yoghurt or a fruit; suggesting that they play a game…  But the little boy wants nothing. Nothing but that huge, sharp kitchen knife.
“Look, you can cry all you want, but daddy is not going to give you the knife. It’s dangerous, Mac,” Amy’s voice is definitely stern but nonetheless still calm well aware of the fact that screaming as well won’t get her anywhere. Besides that she also considers herself a structured, punctual but nonetheless also a cool mom: nevertheless enough is enough. She’s really had it by now, hands resting defensively on her hips  as she feels a head ache creeping up on her meanwhile her 3 year old, who’s now lying face down on the kitchen floor, lets out yet another scream.
“Listen to mom, bud,” Jake intervenes the best he can without interrupting his wife’s operation. “She’s super right, you know? The knife is very very sharp and in your small hands it can easily slip and hurt you. We don’t want that.”
Another scream is how he’s thanked for the explanation and Jake, even though he loves his son unconditionally, has to roll his eyes and sigh. Logic is not relevant when you’re working with a toddler, he has learned but nonetheless gives it a try every time they’re back in the arena - only to be disappointed.
They try not to be the kind of parents that scold or punish their kid unless it’s necessary and they but alas this is not one of them. Amy has had it and shares a look of confirmation with her husband before proceeding - she needs him to back her up on this.
“Okay, McClane Santiago-Peralta,” Amy says strictly. Full name? This is the point of no return, Jake knows.
“If you’re going to continue to behave like this then that’s up to you, but that also means it’s time for time-out, because daddy and I don’t know how to help you, when you keep screaming like that.”
God, she hates this side of parenthood and this shade of herself, though she knows it necessary.
“Knife!” Mac cries out rolling onto his back and hitting the floor with the palms of his tiny hands in protest of now both the knife and the time-out.
“I’m not going to keep discussing this with you,” she makes up her mind, picks up her son which results in him screaming/crying even louder while also putting up a fight by wiggling his entire body in his mother’s hold. “If you’re not going to go by yourself, like the big boy I know you usually are, then I’ll have to carry you there.”
And so Amy, knowing that the most important thing right now is that she sticks to her pledges, starts walking out of the kitchen and down the hall towards her son’s room. The wiggling continues, the crying doesn’t come to quit and he even adds kicking into the air as she carries him to the mess of it all. He really doesn’t want to go, even less have his mommy take him there since it’ll mean that he’s really pushed her to the limit.
Then suddenly the next wail he lets out suddenly sends the situation down a completely different path.
“I just want the knife and I- I wuv you, mommy!” her son screams loudly through his cry, face all red and scrunched up as if he was cursing her which by nature results in Amy freezing on the spot, left to wonder what the hell had prompted that outburst.
That one was new, she thinks, and how the hell do you handle this exact situation right? On one hand his previous acts, and the fact that he’s still hysterical, means that he deserves to be sent to his room; on the other hand he just screamed, bloody murder, that he loves her… Parenthood was indeed so confusing sometimes.
A sigh leaves her body.
“I love you too, Mac,” she figures he deserves, and always will deserve, to hear it back - no matter how frustrating and crazy the situation might be.
“And daddy does too, but it’s really hard for us to help you when you scream and cry like that, baby,” she gives explaining the consequences of his tantrum one last shot, and, to her surprise, the boy actually stills in her arms and buries his face into her chest. The cries die out before transitioning to small sniffles and alas Amy sees the opportunity to, perhaps, talk some sense into her son.
“We’d much rather have you use your words, tell mommy and daddy what’s actually wrong, rather than having you scream and cry like this. Do you understand?”
There’s silence but Amy can feel Mac’s tiny head slide up and down in nod against his chest, and relief, although it might still just be a false sense of safety, floods her entire body.
“So, what is actually wrong? Why are you sad?”
“I-“ Mac sniffles trying to mould his thoughts. “I just wanted help daddy make food.”
Of course, she thinks internally rolling her eyes.
“I see,” she nods. “And you can help daddy cook, but next time you’ll have to say it like that. Use your words, okay?”
He nods again before lovingly grasping onto a strand of his mother’s hair.
“Good,” she pecks the top of his head. “Now,” she cranes her neck to look down at her son’s face where it’s half buried into her tear-stained shirt. “Do you want to be in your room by yourself for a bit to calm down, or do you want to come help me and daddy clean the kitchen and set the table?”
“I wan’ help,” he mumbles obviously lacking energy after spending it all throwing the tantrum, but if he wants to be with them and redeem himself then Amy won’t be the one to stop him. It took a while, but Amy always tries to remember that he’s still very little meaning that it’s inevitable that some social skills aren’t fully developed. So whenever he can come to his senses, with his parents guidance or not, Amy will of course be the first one to endorse it.
“I’m glad to hear that,” she walks back towards the kitchen with Mac resting silently in her arms.
A third memory that pops into Amy’s mind upon trying to remember the many random moment’s where her son has shared his love for her out loud and of the blue (Peralta-stylez), is one time (of the many) they went grocery shopping together. They’d been wandering around the big grocery store, her and Mac, targeting the cereal aisle, hand in hand with a basket in Amy’s free hand.
“Okay, since you and daddy ate the last of the Fruit Loops this morning we need to get some cereal. You think you can help me with that?” she looks down at her son who’s already looking up to meet her eyes. Mac’s enchanting glimmering eyes instantly light up at the thought of responsibility, a trait he’s definitely inherited from her, and prompts an eager nod. Before she can even say or explain further, which he probably doesn’t actually need her to, he’s let go of her hand.
“More Fwuit Loops!” he exclaims happily as his tiny legs take him ahead, down the aisle, to reach the mosaic of colourful cereal-boxes.
“Sure, if that’s what you want, babe, but maybe…” she walks towards him, "we could try something else for once?” she tries to not be too strict about her son’s eating habits, especially when she knows Fruit Loops is usually the only straight up sugary stuff he eats daily, but also, she has to admit, secretly wishes she could perhaps trick him and Jake to eat something just a bit less… candy-like.
“What?” he stops and looks at her with a frown. “Something else?”
“Yeah,” she catches up with him and looks as the many options before him. “Like… bran-flakes, maybe? They look yummy, right?”
Either Amy is a really bad actor or her son simply too smart, but nonetheless Mac looks more than quite unimpressed when his mom pulls a boring, brown box out from the shelf to showcase it
“I donno want brain-flakes ew, mommy” and the face Mac makes, a face of utter disgust, would be way more solid proof than a paternity test if one was needed - he is definitely, without a single doubt, Jake Peralta’s son - and she definitely can’t help but chuckle at the similarity he constantly carries with him.
The tiny human’s hand starts dancing across all the different packages, probably gathering himself a good dose of various germs that in the moment Amy can’t make herself care about, and every now and then he’ll stop to study a cereal that’s caught his child-brain and eyes’ attention.
“There are so many to choose from, huh babe?” she encourages but keeping her distance as to be supportive of him doing something on his own, independent like a big boy.
First he stops in front of the Cheerios, which Amy can totally be content with, but alas he quickly, to Amy’s chagrin, puts them back in their spot. Then come the Frosted Flakes with their blue box and cute tiger cartoon (the perfect child-trap) which, if possible, are even worse than Fruit Loops. Amy unconsciously frowns at the thought of having to rip the box of cereal from her son’s grip when he in a few seconds won’t let go and instead grab the Bran Flakes. But to Amy’s great relief Mac’s finger continue their trip down past the tiger-trap, mindlessly mumbling small nothings to himself that she can’t quite make out. Then, all at once seeming way more determined than with previous ones, Mac throws himself at a bright and colourful box.
“These!” he exclaims jumping up and down on the spot with the held over his head in victory.
As soon as she gets a closer look, having gently grabbed the box from her son, it dawns on Amy that Jake Peralta being the father of her child isn’t exclusively beneficial. Not when their child is asking for Sour Patch Kids morning cereal and Amy knows it’s because he’s inspired by his dad as Jake will gladly share his candy with his son whenever he happens to have some.
“Oh, baby… “ Amy tries to keep up a neutral face as to not reveal how she dreads to get something that’s somehow even worse than the king of artificial ingredients, Fruit Loops, and sultan of sugar, Frosted Flakes, combined. “You sure you don’t just wanna get the Fruit Loops then? I don’t think you’ll like Sour Patch Kids.”
“Yes I do! I eat them with daddy all the time!”
Of course.
Her son is completely oblivious to her dread and shines proudly thinking he’s pleased his mom by finding something new (which it is - Amy can’t deny that) to have for breakfast. And Amy’s mom-heart can’t get herself to contradict her son’s persuasion of the fact that he’s accomplished the mission she set up for him. No way. Not when his face flows with pride like it does now.
“Okay,” she surrenders with a forsaken smile. “We can get these, but they’re very sugary so only for weekend mornings, got it?” she puts her hand forward as to shake on the deal.
Either it’s the handshake that takes his mind off of it, or her 3-year old actually somehow understands nutritional values, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate to meet her hand with his own, agreeing with her proposed deal. Immediately after she hands him back the box, it’s a mystery to Amy how such a simple thing can make her son that happy, he beams with excitement and basically hugs the box of sugary sweetness. Amy has to chuckle and then he’s off again to do his own little thing, prancing down the remains of the aisle chanting a made-up song, Amy guesses, to himself.
“Cereal. Breakfast. I love cereal. I love breakfast. I love mommy and mommy loves cereal and me and daddy and breakfast. Cereal, cereal, cereal!”
And to her, and Jake’s, sheer luck Amy manages to snap a short video of it for them to enjoy and fuss about for years.
That same night, Friday, they’re all lounging on the couch watching a movie. Tangled as per Mr. Mac’s demand because “Flynn Eugene whatever is really cool and the pretty princess hits him with a pan and the horse and green little thing are super fun too.”
So, needing no further arguments, they watch Tangled and snack on Sour Patch Kids (the candy, not the cereal) that Jake had bought on his way home from work after Amy had texted him about their adventure at the grocery store, attaching the video of their son singing.
Although, after a long day, by the time the lanterns in the movie light up the dark sky while Rapunzel and Flynn sing to each other, Mac is half, almost completely, passed out with his head in Amy’s lap and legs stretched across his father’s. Mommy stroking your face and playing with your curls turns out to be very soothing and sleep-inducing. Jake can also, if asked to testify, agree with this fact. Guess there’s something special about Peralta-curls Amy simply can’t resist.
“Ames, I think he’s asleep,” Jake whispers discreetly throwing his wife a knowing smile when he notices his son’s current state.
She, having not noticed being too busy watching the movie, looks down and sees, indeed, a sweet angel face with shut eyes and pouty lips that indicated that her son is, if not entirely, on the verge of being asleep. Nevertheless, every 30 seconds or so, his eyes will flutter just a bit, like tiny butterfly wings, as if he’s fighting to see the end of the movie - a movie he’s seen 134 times already.
“You want to go to bed, Mac?” she coos leaning down to peck his temple.
“Nu-uh,” he fights off the urge to say yes, Amy can tell.
“You sure?” she tries again.
He nods heavily in her lap, shuffling a bit in an attempt to get comfortable enough to, Amy knows, fall asleep. But he can’t seem to find the right spot, is surely overtired too and both parents can tell it’s a matter of minutes before he’ll give in to either fall asleep on the couch or demand to be put to bed.
And they’re right.
“Mommy,” he mumbles in the most exhausted and soft soft voice that makes Amy’s heart flutter time after time. “I love you but I wanna sleep - in my bed.”
Those three words, especially coming from Mac, will never seize to send a tiny jolt of joy and dopamine through her entire being. She chuckles softly stroking his back.
“That’s okay, baby. We’ve had a long day. Let's get you to bed.”
“Okay, I love you mommy. And daddy. Love,” he passes out before he can finish the sentence and won’t even notice his father carrying him to bed while Amy gazes after them with loving eyes.
Even three years in, four if you count the pregnancy, she can’t believe this sweet, beautiful and smart boy is hers. A bundle of love that is half her and half the man she loves the most (next to Mac himself, of course). Parenthood is an irregular graph with ups and down, but they have so much love that it’ll make up for the bad days and hard cases. In the very end the most important thing is that he, Mac Santiago-Peralta with his brown curly hair, tiny nose and deep brown eyes, is here and he’s theirs. Not only is he theirs but he is his own and he loves them, his parents, so much, every day. Plus, he’s so good at actually expressing it that Amy can’t help but feel like they’re definitely doing something right. She’s proud to know her son is surrounded by so much love that it has planted a seed that everyday blooms within him, making him spill over and spread his care and love to other people.
So, yes, Amy Santiago is 100% sure: she is definitely the luckiest, most loved mom in the entire universe. Mac Santiago-Peralta will always make sure of this.  
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sickjoonie · 5 years
Text
fic recs for each ship
i love every ship and read fics for each ship... so i made a masterlist of my favorite fics for every ship lol. also i apologize in advance because i read really long fics
yoonjin
Precisely When Somebody Shows You to the Ocean - 21k - M
The longer Yoongi hangs around the tank in the aquarium, the more he thinks that Seokjin is, in fact, a real mermaid.
“You’re really real,” he says, keeping his voice neutral. “You’re not acting, are you?”
Seokjin smiles, yet it’s the saddest Yoongi has seen him. “I am acting, though. I’m pretending to pretend to be a mermaid.”
(we love a chaotic but soft duo)
2seok
hashtag trashbag - 15k - T
Hoseok plays video games for a living. Also, he's gay. Like, so deep in the gay, dicks in his mouth kinda gay.
(this one is fucking hilarious. i love reading it)
namjin
cotton candies and sugar addicts - 6k - T
In a final, desperate attempt to get Seokjin to notice him, Namjoon dyes his hair pink. However, Seokjin avoids him more than ever and Namjoon doesn't know what he did wrong.
(namjoon is an angsty overgrown teen but it’s okay jin loves him anyways)
jinmin
The Golden Rule of Love Curses - 16k - G
A comprehensive list of things Seokjin expected when he took a job at the library:
a decent paycheck to mitigate his growing student loan debt
time to catch up on his reading
and by "reading" he means his DS. He's going to play video games.
admittedly this is bordering on ironic seeing as he's a librarian but a chef's life isn't all about food, so he figures a librarian can enjoy other pursuits.
his would be, though. If he was a chef, it would be all food, all the time.
An incomprehensive list of things Seokjin did not expect when he took a job at the library:
a talking seagull.
did he mention the talking seagull, because he feels like no one is properly panicking about a talking seagull?
oh, and also a wizard places him under a curse.
sorry, correction, a wizard places him under a spell. There is obviously a very significant difference, apologies Jimin. A spell is so much better than a curse.
(put the two sassiest members together and you get this)
taejin
i put the EEL in fEELings - 11k - T
"Average person expresses 3 genuine feelings a day" factoid actually just statistical error. Average person expresses 10 genuine feelings per day. Spiders Seokjin, who lives in a dorm and expresses -10,000 feelings each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.
(Wherein Taehyung woos Seokjin with flowers, cooking, RJ heads, and a potato, and Seokjin... totally doesn't have a meltdown. Ever.)
(ao3 tag seokjin is bad at feelings but taehyung is a good boy)
jinkook
Fake Sugar - 87k - E
Hedge Fund wunderkind and Certified Awkward Gay Jungkook needs a sugar baby to show off at work, and Professional Competitive Eater and Objectively Beautiful Human Jin just wants to stop working shitty side-jobs. Fake Sugar Daddy AU. A trope and a half.
(this is so long but so funny but also so sad. love it. seokjin eats a lot)
yoonseok
could roses bloom - 5k - NR
Yoongi looks up and finds himself staring at a gorgeous stranger with dyed brown hair and dark circles under his eyes. He startles a bit and watches as this other man sets a glass of lukewarm water in front of him.
"In case you get thirsty," the man smiles and it's like a fragment from a dream.
(this one is kind of like a sickfic and i think that’s mainly why it’s my fav lmao)
namgi
what rhymes with pug me - 62k - T
namjoon and yoongi share a sweater (and also some feelings)
(JTOWEFWJFIWOEJF IF CUKING LOVE THIS FIC ITS MY FAVORITE AND I LOVE NAMGI OWJEFO)
yoonmin
You’re a Flame In My Heart - 29k - T
Yoongi is a permanently exhausted part-timer in a flower shop who hates flowers, and Jimin is a dancer that is allergic to pollen and needs a better boyfriend. Yoongi thinks Jimin might be his favorite flower, and he's biologically human, what the fuck.
(yoonmin often has yoongi as this cold, edgy guy. this fic accurately portrays them. also some soft, caring yoongi heals the soul)
taegi
my heart flutters from the sugar high - 5k - M
Yoongi and Taehyung sneak around together, cheating on their diets. The group? They've drawn different conclusions.
(also fucking hilarious. they’re oblivious)
yoonkook
let the light in - 65k - T
There is magic in the world, but for years Jungkook has shied away from his gift. (It's intrusive, unwelcome, dangerous.) Now, he's in New York City, battling loneliness and a college course he hates. Until on one particularly bad day, he turns down a side street in East Village and his life changes forever.
(you think you won’t cry but you will. you WILL.)
namseok
tadhana - 32k - E
The site was in English, and Namjoon really should've checked it over before Hoseok booked the room, but there's nothing to be done about it now.
They've got a ten day honeymoon package on a beautiful island, and they're going to make the most of it. Even if it means pretending they're newlyweds to win extra prizes from the resort.
(probs the least angsty fake dating au. i feel like this is the most accurate portrayal of them)
jihope
out of the blue and into my world, you could be the making of me - 23k - E
jimin and hoseok are spies who are deep undercover. everyone thinks they're happily married and at some point, the two just stopped pretending.
(wholesome soft husbands. also there are kittens, that’s important)
vope
Vortex of Death - 16k - M
Jung Hoseok is mortally afraid of roller-coasters and water-slides. He’s also fatally attracted to the boy who works as a lifeguard at the theme park’s greatest attraction: the Vortex of Death.
(hoseok gay panicking for 16k words)
hopekook
DOES/DOES NOT - 20k - G
Jeongguk thinks Hoseok likes him. Hoseok thinks Jeongguk does not like him.
They are both wrong and get yelled at by Yoongi.
(character developement....chef’s kiss)
minjoon
of dogs & men - 20k - T
I work at a vet clinic and you work for the mafia. You started coming in to get patched up and threatened me to not to turn you into the police. Little do you know that I remember you as my high school crush, and you have no need to threaten me, because I'm still charmed by you
(an ACCURATE mafia au. mafias aren’t sexy and this depicts what it is actually like. namjoon isn’t too deep involved, just as a spoiler)
vmon
i see the sun in your ocean eyes - 14k - T
Taehyung is a selkie who wants to live in the human world; Namjoon is a boy who doesn't know how to. They figure it out together on an island off the coast of Jeju.
(this is soft and sad. good for rainy days)
namkook
bees, knees, and emotional crises - 20k - T
Jungkook and Namjoon meet at the weekly farmer's market where Namjoon sells honey that he makes himself, and Jungkook has a crush the size of Pangea and also cries about bees a few times because they're important, damn it
(bees. bees! BEES!)
vmin
we feel the same within our veins - 12k - T
the au where taehyung wakes up glowing, jimin is probably his soulmate, and everyone is reasonably concerned
(WE ALL KNOW VMIN ARE SOULMATES OKAY. OKAY??? THIS IS SOFT)
jikook
oh boy (will you awaken the hidden me?) - 6k - T
Jimin thinks he's lucid dreaming and kisses Jeongguk.
(shy jungkook is my aesthetic. they do some smooching)
taekook
Cinnamon Crisp - 21k - M
Jungkook needs his daily dose of cuddles and Taehyung likes to wear Jungkook's clothes. They don't care that alphas and omegas aren't supposed to be best friends.
(if you want non traditional/toxic abo fic... with soft taekook cuddles.... and soft warm fuzzy love...this is it)
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thewritewolf · 5 years
Text
Inseparable Chapter 8: Homework
Some Adrienette to help set up later Ladynoir, as the gang does some homework in the library.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31
@ladynoirjuly2019
Enjoy!
Read on Ao3
“Sorry I’m late, guys!” Marinette said as she set her backpack on the table. A nearby librarian glared at her sternly and Marinette ducked her head in apology.
“Don’t sweat it, girl. We haven’t been waiting that long.” Alya scooted her chair to the side, allowing Marinette to sit down beside her.
As she was getting seated, Marinette looked across the table where Adrien was reading something on his laptop. As if he could feel her eyes on him, he glanced in her direction and smiled.
“Hey, Marinette! I think I’ve found a few good sources to start with-”
“Oh, did you find them, centerfold?” Alya said with a glare.
“That Alya found for us,” Adrien corrected without missing a beat and without breaking eye contact with Marinette. “Granted, most of them are articles from the Ladyblog, but they are a good starting point for the modern heroes of Paris.”
Marinette nodded along. The theme of the project had to be about connecting the present to the past - the more distant the better - with a focus on French history. While the natural decision for her and Adrien would have been fashion design, Ms Bustier encouraged everyone to study outside their area of expertise. In practice, this meant that Marinette and Alya had simply swapped interests so they could help each other out if they got stuck. Clearly, it was already working out.
Now, Marinette would have preferred not doing superheroes at all, and not just because it felt uncomfortably close to home, but also because she hadn’t heard of any previous French superheroes. When Adrien heard Alya’s suggestion, however, he had his heart set on it. She was sure she could have gotten him to choose another topic, but she didn’t want to disappoint him. Besides, she was curious too - she understood some of the powers of the other miraculous. Maybe that would secretly help her find past users where other people couldn’t?
“Well, if Adrien is doing the modern heroes…” The boy in question gave a thumbs up. “...Any ideas where to start with the past ones?” Marinette turned to Alya, who frowned.
“Hm… I’m not sure. You could either start with myths and legends, or you could start from like five years ago and work your way backwards.” Marinette nodded along. “That’s just what I would do, though. Did you bring the articles for me, girl?”
Marinette reached into her backpack and pulled up a few magazines with sticky notes in them. “I’ve picked out a few pieces on big name designers right now, as well as ones about trends going on, and some that talk about the history of certain things, like brands and materials.”
Alya grinned. “I knew you’d pull through for me, girl!”
“And how are you doing, Nino?” Marinette turned away from Alya as she got to work flipping through the magazine.
“Oh, totally awesome, dude. A lotta reading between what you and my bro sent me, but nothing I can’t handle. I’m just tagging stuff that looks cool for now until Alya pins down exactly what we want to study.” He gestured to the stack of reading material in front of him. “It’s not like the past has a shortage of stuff to talk about, ya know?”
Before Marinette could respond, the librarian came along again and shushed them. With mumbled apologies, they worked in silence for a few minutes before Marinette spoke up again.
“So, uh, Adrien?” The blonde boy looked up at her and she quickly looked back down at her tablet. “How’s the research on Ladybug and Chat Noir going?”
“Pretty good, boss,” he said with a smirk. The corners of her mouth quirked up as she rolled her eyes playfully. “There is plenty to work with thanks to diligent amateur journalists,” he added with a nod to Alya. “But we still need to figure out what we’re going to be focusing on here.”
“I know, and I’m working on it.” She sighed. “I just don’t know if I’ll be able to find anything…”
“Don’t worry! If there is anyone who can find it, I’m sure it’s you. You’re pretty awesome like that.” He finished with a wink and she hurriedly looked down at her tablet to hide her blush.
They returned to their work, idly chatting while researching. Marinette noticed that more students were funneling in from their class and since Kim was with one of those groups, the librarian had his hands full keeping everyone quiet. An hour into their studying and Alya stretched out and yawned. . “Hey, M? I’m going to go get coffee for everyone. Come with?”
“Sure,” she glanced towards the boys. Nino read a text he just got and looked back up at her.
“Yeah, that sounds great. We’ll stay here and hold our seats.” Nino finger gunned at them. “Don’t be too long, ‘kay?”
After getting everyone’s orders, Alya and Marinette left for a nearby cafe. With lunch in full swing, there were plenty of other customers there. They got in line and Alya crossed her arms and looked at Marinette.
“Okay, girl. It’s just us. Spill.”
“Um… okay. Spill what?”
“You’re talking with Adrien! And with no stutters!” Alya gently shakes Marinette’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, girl!”
“Thanks! I think it’s because I’ve gotten to spend more time with Adrien lately.”
“So… what? You’re getting acclimated to him or something?”
“Mostly that, yeah,” she conceded with a nod, “but it’s also like... I’m finding out what a huge dork he is.”
Alya rubbed her hands together in excitement. “Do tell. Spare me no details, girl.”
“Nothing major so far - he’s huge into Mecha Strike, and he has a cheesy sense of humor.” She smiled, thinking about how relaxed he became after they’d really gotten into the campaign mode. It was like he was an entirely different person than the one captured in magazines.
“Sounds like you two really are soulmates then,” Alya said with a knowing nudge. “Now, maybe you can tell me why he was calling you ‘boss’...?”
---------------------------
“Hey, uh, bro. Not to make you feel weird or anything, but… why are you calling Marinette ‘boss’?”
Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and felt his cheek heat up a little at Nino’s question. He’d forgotten that it was an inside joke between him and Marinette, forgotten how it might look strange to other people.
“It’s kinda a long story and it isn’t a super funny story if you weren’t there. But it happened when we were playing video games in my room, waiting for you two to respond.”
“When you were playing... My dude, that just gives me more questions, but I’ll let it slide.” Nino scrolled through his social media on his phone. “So… you and Mari look like you’re pretty chummy now.”
“Yeah…” Adrien smiled, staring off into space. “She was one of my first friends, but we’ve never really gotten to hang out much, just the two of us. I think she’s finally starting to warm up to me.”
“Yeah? You know how else you could get some quality alone time with her?” Nino grinned and shot him a knowing look.
“What do you- Oh. You mean like…” Adrien glanced around nervously. His romcoms had taught him that the minute you start talking about feelings for someone, that person appeared and overhears the conversation. He whispered to be sure that only Nino could hear him. “...dating?”
Nino rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Yes, bro. I’m saying you should date Mari.”
“I don’t know, dude…”
“If this is about that mystery girl you keep talking about, you keep saying you haven’t made any progress with her. Maybe it’s time to move on?”
“But that’s the thing - I think she’s starting to fall for me! I just know it!” Adrien deflated. “Besides… even if she isn’t, what if Marinette doesn’t like me like that? I don’t want to ruin this friendship just because I jumped the gun.”
Nino shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll work out, but you do what you think is best, bro. I’m behind you one hundred percent.” He gently punched Adrien’s arm.
“Thanks, dude.”
Not long after, Alya and Marinette returned with coffee for all of them. Marinette and him only barely managed to meet each other’s gaze before blushing and looking away. A few minutes passed in silence before Alya suddenly sat up, looking alert.
“Babe, you okay?” Nino looked up at her in concern.
“Do you hear that?”
All four of them strained to listen, but they heard nothing.
“No, I don’t-” Nino’s eyes widened as he suddenly realized that the library was quiet as the grave.
Adrien was looking wildly around as other students were starting to notice the silence as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw… something. Something very, very translucent, almost imperceptible.
“Akuma!” He hissed in a whisper.
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dtownsuga · 5 years
Text
silent black keys
deaf composer! yoongi x librarian! y/n
genre; calling all soft yoongi community, angst, angst, maybe one more angst, sprinkle of fluff, maybe lots of fluff
warning; none.
read chapter I
read chapter IV
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Sometimes people forget. They forget where they last put their wallets. They forget important appointments. They forget their glasses were right above their heads the whole time. They forget that the black keys of the piano also make music.
I am one of those black keys, before I met him. A boy, who screamed the loudest and heard the deepest.
chapter V
“Tea or coffee?”
“Tea,” Namjoon leads you to the kitchen after walking away from Yoongi’s room, or workplace you supposed. He fills in the kettle with tap water before placing it above the fire stove, traditional.
The kitchen lights were dimmed, and it is chilly. Namjoon hands you a cup of warm tea and you eagerly hold them with both of your hands, letting the warmth of the cup slowly crawled into you. There are so many questions you want to know the answers to, but this is not a good time to ask.
You sit in silence, neither you nor Namjoon know what should you talk about. So, what now? Yoongi is okay, now you know, but looking at what had happened today, you know at the same time that he is not. You bring your head up focused shifted from you cup to Namjoon. The taller man is shaking. He holds his phone on his hand, gripping it so tightly it looks like it might actually break.
“Namjoon?” You called him once, twice. When he still does not answer you on the fourth, you know he needs help. You stand up and approach him, trying to calm him down by stroking his back. You swear the kitchen is not on the temperature where one could sweat, but Namjoon does.
“Namjoon, do you want something? Can I help you with anything?” when you see his eyes widening from you soothing voice, you expect a vocal answer from him, not a signed one. He signs out Yoongi hyung very slowly. You nod your head, already expecting the answer.
You leave Namjoon alone in the kitchen, telling him that you will come back with Yoongi. You walk down the hallway to where Yoongi’s workplace is. It is a room in the end of the hallway, door painted dark brown with hand-drawn sign decorating it. Genius Lab. You chuckle, Namjoon must have come up with the name.
You try to open the door and of course it is locked, knocking is also no good. You walk back to the kitchen, through the empty hallway. Namjoon is still there, staring at his cup of tea, not even bothering that you have once again re-enter the kitchen.
“Can you call him? He locked the door,” but Namjoon handed you his phone instead. He looks exhausted. You gently take his phone from his hand, walking away without saying anything because you want to bring Yoongi to him as soon as possible.
You are once again standing in front of Genius Lab, now with Namjoon’s phone on your hand. You go to Namjoon’s contacts and type Yoongi’s name, pressing the video call button afterwards. Before Yoongi could even answer your call, you end it.
Yoongi comes out of the room, he looks startled, not expecting you to still be here and waiting for him in front of his studio. Now that he thinks about it, why did Namjoon bring you here in the first place?
Help Namjoon. You sign to him. Of course, Yoongi knows Namjoon needs him and he is supposed to be there for the younger, but Yoongi needs to work. He promises Seokjin two days, and that’s that. When Yoongi is about to neglect you, and close the door again, you sign out a Please.
“Is Namjoon really just an interpreter to you, Yoongi? You need to see his face when he received the call and how he literally dashed into the house when we arrived. And although I don’t know what the fuck happened, he looks like he is ready to risk everything for you,” you know Yoongi couldn’t hear you, that’s also mainly why you have the courage to say it out loud. But Yoongi gets it, he closes the door behind him and starts signing.
Where is Joonie?
Kitchen. Yoongi walks towards the kitchen and you follow him from behind.
Namjoon’s eyes light up when he sees Yoongi. He runs to Yoongi and the shorter one welcomes him with an open arm. Yoongi hates it just as much when the deadline is near, mostly because Namjoon stresses out a lot during that time. The images of his best friend crying on his arm is already painful enough, let alone if those images come true.
When Namjoon’s sobbing eventually stops, Yoongi slowly leads him to the living room. He helps Namjoon lowers himself to the couch, leaving the room for a bit and comes back with blanket. The younger rests his head on the couch’s hand rest, and let the warmth of the blanket take over his shivering body. Namjoon closes his eyes and slowly letting sleep consumes him. Yoongi lowers himself to the couch level. Under Yoongi’s soothing touch, he falls asleep quickly.
Sorry. Yoongi signs. It must be awkward for you to be here when you know nothing about the whole situation.
Yoongi signs in a moderate pace. It’s okay.
You want to go back to your place? I can walk you home. You shake your head. It will be best if Namjoon wakes up with Yoongi around.
I can walk back by myself. It’s quite near and I’m familiar to the neighborhood.
I’ll walk you home. Get your things, please. You sigh, knowing that there’s no chance of winning when it comes to Yoongi. You place Namjoon’s phone on the table and make sure you leave nothing behind.
I wish I could drive. Yoongi starts signing, probably to break the silence between the two of you. Well, for you, it’s basically still quiet.
I’m sorry I wet your shoulder on the restaurant the other day. Yoongi continue signing, now you sense seriousness on it. Must be weird to have someone crying on you when you barely know them, right?
What the man did to you was wrong, and you have every reason to cry that day; whether it was me or not, it doesn’t matter. Yoongi smiles to which you returns easily.
Your signing improves a lot. You feel your cheeks turning red from his compliments.
I understand you because you sign slowly. Namjoon too. Thank you for being considerate.
This is moderate. And thank you for learning, y/n. You like how natural Yoongi is when he signs your name, as if he has been signing it for a long time.
Will Namjoon be okay? Yoongi nods his head.
It happened a lot when submission deadline is near. You see an opportunity to ask Yoongi further questions, but you don’t want him to feel like you are barging into his private matters. But turns out the odds are in your favor and Yoongi continues signing.
You see, Namjoon, he is a really kind man. He worries a lot, a little bit too much actually. And me being part of it, doesn't help at all. Yoongi smiles apologetically. But you know that look on Namjoon face is more than just worry towards Yoongi. The pale man is not telling you something.
Why is deadline so important though? You single-handedly ask him the question. I mean you can publish the song whenever you want to, right?
Yoongi smiles again, but it’s the different one, it looks, sad. I can’t. You know, there is this really famous composer, I sell my song to him.
The answer is not what you have expected. But why? Why couldn’t you sell your own songs? Yoongi doesn’t answer your question. Does this also mean he sold you songs without giving you a proper credit? There goes another unanswered question. But, it doesn’t take god to know that silence means yes.
You walk silently until you reach your place, both hoping that you have lived further than this. Goodnight, y/n. Yoongi signs.
Yoongi, I- I am sorry for today. You sign, not knowing what you’re sorry of but feeling the need to say so.
Nothing is your fault. Don’t apologize. I should have thanked you instead for taking care of Joonie.
I don’t mind. Yoongi looks hesistant to leave, because he knows once he is home, he needs to start working again, the world will be back to how cruel it is again.
And, thank you for opening up. I hope we would know each other better, Yoongi. Yoongi gives you a small nod before turning around and walking away. That’s the back of the man you barely know anything about.
You jump into your bed right after you open your bedroom door. You lazily scrolled through your social media, catching up all the news you missed. That’s when it comes across your mind. You go to the internet and type in Yoongi’s name. It then reminds you that you have never known what his family name is.
One link after another, there are numerous articles about politicians and economist, none is about music composing or even music in general, before you came across a website. It is neglected and is last updated six years ago with the last article titled Min Yoongi, Deaf and Talented? You read through the article, thinking that it might be something that praises the deaf composer, turns out it is everything but that.
You heart aches even more when you look at the suggested article on the side of the main one, its title is enough to upset your stomach.
Liar, a deaf composer published a song?
A deaf and mute composer claiming the trending song as his, is it possible?
Is Min Yoongi really the anonymous deaf composer?
And indeed, it doesn’t take god to know that silence means yes.
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mariequitecontrarie · 5 years
Text
All of Me: Chapter 16
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The Fic: Belle French is a pudgy librarian who’s in love from afar with “town monster” and ace reporter, Mr. Gold. Little does she know, he’s head-over-heels in love with her, too. Chapter Summary: Belle and Emma go shopping in Portland to prepare for a big night out with Gold and Neal at the Storybrooke Winter Gala. Emma runs into an old high school rival and shares a secret. Rating: T A/N: Guys, it’s been 84 years! Much love to @galactic-pirates and @magnoliatattoo for putting up with me. Artwork by the talented @wizzygold @a-monthly-rumbelling: “I’m not dressed for this.”
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | 
Stay with Me (bet. Ch 9&10) | Spiked Chocolate (bet. Ch 16&17) | Pieces of Me (Q&A)
ON AO3
“The quickest way to know a woman is to go shopping with her.” - Marcelene Cox
***Three weeks after Belle has moved out of her parents’ house and into Marco’ s.***
Belle picked up the telephone to call Gold at the newspaper, her day planner spread open on the desk.
Yes, it was old-fashioned, writing things down on a calendar and lugging the thick planner around in her bag, but she liked old-fashioned. She liked books, and fountain pens, and the rustle of paper—both crisply new and faded with age. Besides, she didn’t trust iPhone calendar apps.
She’d forgotten Daddy and Edith’s anniversary one too many times thanks to those finicky electronic calendars. Whenever it happened, she rushed to write a card at the last minute but instead of being grateful, Edith seemed to enjoy shaming her for “neglecting her family.” Personally, Belle felt anniversaries were about the couple celebrating each other…but her thoughts were veering way off course. If she ventured down the dark road of worrying over Edith, she could end up in bed with a box of snowball cakes for the rest of the day.
But falling into depression was less likely now that she no longer called her father and Edith’s house home. After three weeks of living with Marco, there was no denying how much better she felt; the freedom of coming and going as she pleased was a heady sensation. Sometimes Gold joined her at Marco’s house in the evening and the three of them played Scrabble together. Once, she had insisted Marco not cook dinner after cooking at the restaurant all day long and dragged him to Emma’s house for a family dinner where Henry chattered about school and his friends and made everyone laugh until their sides ached. 
But most often, Marco would come home from the restaurant and the two of them would eat a pasta and salad dinner, and then spend the evening in the comfortable quiet of his small, cozy living room. His overstuffed couch and chairs were such a contrast to the hard, slick leather furniture Edith filled her house with, and Belle loved sinking into the corner of Marco’s huge couch and covering up with a fluffy throw blanket.
Sometimes they would make small talk about their days but on most evenings, Marco would be bent over a notebook making notes for the next day’s specials at the restaurant, and she would pull out her laptop to research books to add to the library. Usually, either the Cooking Channel or HGTV played in the background. She’d had an older television in her bedroom at her parents’ but no cable connection. Marco, however, had a new flatscreen and Belle indulged in her love of watching House Hunters International, which combined two of her favorite pastimes: seeing home interiors and a peek at exotic destinations.
Gone were the days of being chased into her bedroom, hiding her diary, and hoarding snacks. Some days, the years spent in Edith and her dad’s frosty household seemed like a bad dream. 
At least twice a week, Belle offered to pay Marco rent. It didn’t seem right to eat his food and live in his space and offer nothing in return. But he refused every time she asked. “No,” he had said this morning over breakfast, flipping eggs with a stubborn twist of his lips. “We are family, Bella. La famiglia. And when life is hard, family is a soft place to land.” Her eyes had burned with grateful tears, but she kissed his cheek and ate her breakfast and let him fuss over her until they went their separate ways—he to the restaurant and her to the library.
Besides, she thought as she punched in Gold’s number, she didn’t have time for wallowing.
She needed to talk to Gold about the annual Storybrooke Winter Gala today. On impulse, Neal had bought four tickets and insisted he and Emma and Belle and Gold make a double date of the occasion. He’d even arranged for their next-door neighbor, Ana, to watch Henry.
Every December, the Mayor’s Office hosted the gala to benefit the city schools. This year, all proceeds would go toward school Arts programs—music, theatre, writing, and art workshops. Emma and Gold usually attended every year, Gold to cover the event for the Times and Emma to capture photographs to accompany the story. Belle had never been invited to the ball before, though, and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Part of her didn’t want to be seen in public with so many shiny glossy people she couldn’t measure up to, but another side of her was excited to play princess for an evening.
She glanced again at the date and punched in Gold’s phone number. Today was Friday, November 16th. Thanksgiving was next week, which meant the gala was only three weeks away. There wasn’t much time to get ready. Finding a dress could be difficult and she would probably need to take it to a tailor, too. The thought of shopping for formalwear made her palms begin to sweat.
“Gold,” he answered on the first ring.
“What are you wearing?” she asked in a rush, followed by a breathless pause.
He answered with a laugh, the deep, rich sound making her spine tingle. She imagined him setting down the newspaper proof he was holding to turn in his chair to peer out the window toward the library. Since her office was in the back of the building he couldn’t actually see her, but she felt the admiring burn of his eyes all the same.
She heard a rustling sound as he set down the pages. When they talked or spent time together, he always gave her his full attention. It was certainly a refreshing change from Sean distractedly glancing at her during one of his marathon video game sessions and asking her to repeat what she’d said for the third time.
“A naughty call in the middle of the workday?” Gold drawled into the phone. “Sweetheart, men dream of these sorts of calls from their girlfriends. It’s not even my birthday.”
Belle blushed. She hadn’t stopped to think how awkward the question would sound out of context, but now that it was out, she teased him right back. “Mmmm nothing naughty to say today but just wait till it is your birthday,” she said. “Now that you mention it…”
“Yes?” He drew out the word, filling it with expectation and making her giggle.
She could almost see him leaning forward across the desk, a mischievous gleam in those caramel eyes.
“When is your birthday?”
“January 14th,” he answered promptly. “And tell Marco I prefer ice cream cake.”
“You prefer every cake,” she shot back, smiling into the phone. When it came to baked goods, Gold had an enormous sweet tooth. “But I think it can be arranged.”
“That’s excellent news. Just don’t tell Marco how many candles to put on it because the thing will be melted before we have a chance to slice it.”
Belle knew he was still self-conscious about the difference in their ages. She also knew exactly how to soothe him when he worried. “Then it’s a good thing I prefer mature men.”
“Indeed,” he said, sounding pleased.
She flipped her planner forward and marked his birthday on the calendar in bold, red ink, surrounding the date with fat, bright hearts. The birthday of the man she loved was an important day—far more worth remembering than the wedding date of her stuffy stepmother and emotionally unavailable father. At least she knew Marco wouldn’t snoop through her things and read her planner or her diary. But she was digressing again.
“Now, back to my question,” she ordered, feigning sternness. 
“You have my full attention, General French.”
She laughed and rubbed the thick holiday gala invitation between her fingers. Its embossed gold lettering and sprigs of holly in metallic ink screamed expensive. Everyone knew the Storybrooke Winter Gala was the social event of the season. From the chilled seafood towers bursting with crab claws and lobster tails to the elegant champagne cocktails, no expense would be spared.
Belle fanned her warm cheeks with the cardstock, her clammy fingers leaving damp smudges at the top of the matte stationery. “The invite says formal attire, but you’re almost always formal. Were you thinking suit or tuxedo?”
 “At the moment, I’m in my usual. I did opt for the socks with the turkeys today as a nod to next Thursday.”
Belle giggled and dragged her teeth over her lower lip. His Thanksgiving socks were adorable and he was being terribly sweet in his attempts to put her at ease. She wanted to go to the gala, but she didn’t want to look like a country bumpkin who had never been anywhere. Gold had attended fancy dinners and parties all over the world. He’d been to a State Dinner with the President, for goodness sake, while Belle had never ventured beyond the Portland city limits. “You know what I mean. It’s not like we can show up in sweatpants and be all ‘sorry, I’m not dressed for this.’” Oh, how she wished.
“Sweetheart, you can wear anything you like. You’re gorgeous no matter what you have on. That said, I’m not really the proper person to offer advice on evening gown selections. Why don’t you talk to Emma?”
She sighed. “Honey, I have talked to Emma. We’re both going shopping and we both need to know. It’s not like we can ask Neal for guidance.” Exasperated, she pushed a curl off her forehead, wondering why she had to explain this. “You know what he’s like. Emma said, ‘Neal would dust corn chips off his construction clothes, zip a hoodie sweatshirt over it, and head out the door.’ That’s a direct quote, by the way.”
Gold burst out laughing. “Sounds like my boy. I’ll make sure he’s dressed appropriately.”
“Anyway,” she continued, “there’s not much of a boutique circuit here in Storybrooke and I’m not exactly a candidate for Rent the Runway.” She sucked in the inside of her cheek as soon as those last words were out. Since they’d started dating, she’d been making a concerted effort not to say self-deprecating things about herself. At least not out loud.
Gold hadn’t seemed to notice her negativity, though.
“Which would you prefer I wear? Tux or suit?”
The image of whirling on the dance floor with Gold in a sleek black tuxedo was doing crazy things to her insides. “Tux,” she said in a breathless whisper. “Tux sounds good.”
“Tux it shall be then. And Belle?”
“Yes?” She was still picturing Gold in black tie and her stomach was doing gymnastics.
“Love,  I meant what I said: you’re gorgeous no matter what you wear. We’re going to the gala so we can dance and eat shrimp cocktail and support the Arts, not so you’ll worry over competing with silly girls and stupid women who wouldn’t know true beauty if it ran over them with a sleigh.”
“I wish you and Emma and Neal were going to be the only ones there,” she murmured, feeling silly. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t known about the gala and been given every opportunity to decide against going. The event had been on the calendar for weeks, yet the closer it came the more she fretted about fitting in. An inexplicable craving for belonging tightened her chest.
Gold hummed into the phone. “This is about more than a dress, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
She closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath, letting the weight of his understanding settle over her like a comforting mantle. Her head lolled forward until her forehead rested upon the top of her desk. The smooth, cool grain of the wood felt good against her flushed skin and she forced out another lungful of air. Gold didn’t deserve to be at the wrong end of her short fuse. She tried to tell herself she belonged at the gala because he’d invited her, but the heart didn’t always believe the head—no matter how sensible the head was being.
“It matters to me that I at least look like I belong, even if it isn’t true,” she admitted.
Gold was quiet for a long moment. “It is true, sweetheart. For as long as I draw breath, you will always have a place to belong. If Marco, Emma, Neal, and Henry were here, I know each of them would say the same. I also know it’s going to take more than hearing the words to make you believe it. You have to know the truth deep down. I love you so much, and I only hope and pray that one day you’ll see yourself the way we see you.”
Belle pressed her lips together, muffling a sob. “Thank you for understanding,” she whispered tearfully. “I love you.”
“It’s nearly five. I’m coming over to the library.” Through the phone, she heard the distinctive click of his pocket watch as he snapped it closed. “When I get there, I’m going to kiss you till you’re breathless, then take you out for a nice, quiet dinner, just the two of us. How does that sound?”
Belle smiled and wiped her tears and her worries away with a tissue from the box on her desk. “It sounds perfect.”
“So we’re here.” Emma sucked down the dregs of her iced latte in a noisy slurp and wiped her hands on her black jeans. “Portland. Boutique Row. What do we do now?” She tossed the cup in the trash can inside the door.
Like aliens on a foreign planet, they hovered inside the doorway of Posh, the largest formal boutique in the city.
Belle eyed Emma suspiciously. “I thought you said you knew about shopping.”
“Yeah, for denim and dry fit. Where to get the best doughnuts. And the occasional piece of leather. Not evening gowns.”
“But you’ve been to this gala before?” she pressed.
“Yeah, as the photographer. No one pays attention to what you’re wearing when you’re behind the camera. I got away with black pants and a dress shirt three years running.”
Belle looked her friend up and down. Perspiration was dotting Emma’s temples. Her cheeks, ruddy from the winter air outside just moments ago, were ashen. She knew that deer-in-headlights look: Emma was on the verge of an anxiety attack.
Belle ran her teeth over her lower lip, discouragement slithering around her and squeezing the air from her lungs. “Are we in trouble?”
“It’s possible,” Emma acknowledged, then shook her head hard enough to cause her ponytail to sway. “No. No! We’re two grown women. We can handle one small town formal.”
“You make it sound like war,” Belle said wryly.
“It’s worse. Other women. Rich, polished, cold as ice.” She rolled her eyes at a chic blonde dripping in Chanel and carrying a Louis Vuitton handbag bigger than Belle’s suitcase. “Maybe we should invest in suits of armor.”
“Or maybe we should eat them for supper.”
Emma snorted, their laughter breaking the tension. It was rare for Emma to be intimidated, and Belle patted her shoulder. Misery loved company, and somehow knowing she wasn’t alone in her insecurity gave her hope for more than the hunt for an evening gown. “We can do this, as long as we do it together.”
Emma’s reached for Belle’s hand and squeezed. “Right. Together is better.”
”Exactly.”
Emma gave a long, slow whistle and they moved into the store like two people tied together in a three-legged race. “Where should we start?” Belle stared at the array of gowns and began to shuffle through the racks, heading in the direction of the plus sizes. She’d come here expecting to have maybe two choices in style but after a few minutes of browsing, to her surprise, there were many gowns in her size—short and long, tight and flowing, beaded and glittery. And though she hadn’t tried on a solitary dress, she was still convinced there wasn’t one in all of Portland designed to flatter her physique. In one fell swoop, she’d gone from zero choices to too many. So many dresses, so little time, and so much Belle.
Even the eggnog lattes and cream-stuffed doughnuts she and Emma had feasted on in the car on the way here left her feeling hollow. She was at her worst at formal events—the last one she’d been to was her high school senior prom and not one person had asked her to dance. She’d gone stag simply so she didn’t have to sit in the house with her father and Edith. With the exception of going to the refreshment table to sneak brownies, she had sat in the corner the entire time.
But she wasn’t in high school any longer. She had a handsome escort in Gold and friends to spend the evening with. The steeply priced gala tickets had already been purchased and paid for and supporting the Arts in their schools? She couldn’t think of a more excellent cause. Besides, backing out three weeks before the event was paramount to announcing you had no interest in seeing Hamilton. It simply wasn’t done.
She squinted in the direction of the lingerie. Spanx were what she needed—something to suck her in and smooth her out—injected with industrial-strength elastic.
“Black. Black is the slimming choice,” Belle decided aloud, pushing through the rack toward a plain A-line silk sheath gown.
At least if she stuck to basic black, she and Gold would match. Like two penguins. One sleek and sophisticated, the other round and plump, carrying a lot of blubber around to make it through the hard, cold, South Pole winter.
“No black! Black is the safe choice,” Emma countered, smacking Belle’s hand when she reached for the hanger on another simple, nondescript black gown with clean lines.
“And that’s bad why?”
“Because it’s drab and washes you out. Go for color. Like gold.”
“Suddenly you’re a Pantone expert?” Belle winced. “A gold dress? Isn’t that a touch…cliché?”
“Alright. We’ll keep looking.”
Belle nudged Emma in the direction of a tall, willow-thin woman with striking black and grey hair and the pointiest red stilettos she’d ever seen. “Maybe we should ask someone. I think she works here.”
Emma squinted and slid more dresses down the rack. “The one with the scarf on?”
“It’s a poncho.” She knew that much.
“Wait! Wait! Try this emerald one! Gold will go crazy when he sees you in this!” Emma whipped a dazzling, jewel-toned gown with a daring thigh-high slit off the rack. Belle stared at the stunning gown then glanced back at the saleswoman. “Five minutes ago you didn’t know anything about dresses.” “You’re right, I don’t. But I know my father-in-law and he’s going to love that dress. Well, he’d love you in a life-sized paper bag, but this dress will make even Mr. Smart Ass Newspaper Dude speechless. God, I can picture him drooling already!” She thrust the dress into Belle’s arms and gave her a playful shove. “Go try it on. And remember, the only person who has to know how beautiful you are…”
“Is me,” Belle finished. They’d had this conversation often during their walks over the past few months, and Emma had reminded her yet again on the two-hour drive here. She fingered the rich velvet skirt with trembling fingers. Now she had to walk the walk. “I’ll try it. What color are you looking for?” she asked, backing into the fitting room.
“Black.” “Emma!” she whined.
Emma yanked the fitting room curtain closed with a laugh. The dress was crushed velvet with full-length sleeves, hard to find, even in the middle of a brutal Maine winter. She slid into the gown, the silk-lined velvet feeling decadent against her skin. Even without the back completely zipped, she liked the look. Emma was right, she realized, turning this way and that in the three-way mirror.
The scoop neck hugged her shoulder blades, emphasizing her thinnest feature—her shoulders—and the color made her blue eyes sparkle and skin creamy even under the garish fluorescent fitting room lights. It was a few inches too long for her 5-foot, 1-inch frame, but the skirt length was easily remedied at a tailor. Not hating it, she took a deep breath, lifted the skirt so she wouldn’t trip, and opened the curtain. She hoped Emma was nearby because she didn’t want to make a spectacle of herself. Those stupid little fitting room closets were designed to thrust you back out onto the floor where commission-hungry salespeople could tell you how good you looked and convince you to buy.
“Em,” she called out, “could you zip—” She swallowed the rest of her words. Emma was face-to-face with a dark-haired woman, and looking even more nervous than she had when they walked into the boutique. “Emma? Emma Nolan?” The stranger wore a smart navy pantsuit and a light blue silk blouse, and her blood-red lips spread in a wide smile. Everything about her, from her perfectly coifed hair to her buffed, nude pumps, screamed suave and important.
“Yeah, who’s asking?” “It’s me, Regina Mills. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. We graduated together from Storybrooke High! I sat next to you in Mr. Walsh’s English class.” “Oh, hey.” Emma kicked the carpet with her boot, looking anything but thrilled to meet an old high school friend. “Good to see you. You remember Belle French, I’m sure. She graduated the year after us.” Regina frowned at Belle, making a small scar on her upper lip stand out. “Sorry, doesn’t ring a...bell.” “It’s fine. We didn’t really travel in the same social circles anyway,” Belle said.  Regina pouted, as if trying to decide if Belle’s remark was a put-down.
Well, she could interpret the comment however she wished. Belle didn’t care for the change that had come over Emma since Regina had appeared or the barely-veiled insult that she wasn’t worth remembering. Now that she’d had a good look at her, she remembered Regina well enough. Then again, it was hard to forget the most popular girl to ever come out of Storybrooke High School. Student body president, prom queen, and girlfriend of Daniel Colter, captain of the football team. Belle would have called her a high school cliché, except that Regina had carried her smooth, flawless reputation into adulthood. She was still the most beautiful woman Belle had ever seen close-up.  “I’m just in town for meetings today. I’m an attorney and planning to run for office next term.” Regina’s frozen smile was back in business. “I’m thinking start small with state Senate and work up from there. So, Emma, what have you been up to since graduation? I haven’t seen you since we walked across the stage.” “Um, well.” Emma shoved her hands in her pockets and looked toward the racks of dresses. “Emma is a gifted photographer,” Belle said, sliding to her friend’s side. If Emma wasn’t going to boast about her accomplishments, she sure as hell was going to do it for her. “How exciting!” Regina’s grin was wolfish, her dark eyes sparkling. “Are you exhibiting your portraits at any galleries?” “Uh…” Emma looked at the floor. “No time,” Belle put in. “Right, Em? You’re much too busy with your son, Henry and your husband, Neal.” “Oooh, a husband.” Regina’s eyes flashed again, reminding Belle of a shark circling its prey. “Is he a doctor?” “Nope.” “Hmmm.” She tapped a red nail against her jaw. “A lawyer then?” “He’s in construction,” Emma said, looking to Belle for help. “For your information, he runs his own construction company. He’s built most of Storybrooke’s new buildings in the last ten years.” Belle glared at Regina, daring her to make another cutting remark. “So he’s a working man,” she said, managing to make the term sound neither positive nor negative. “Yeah. Yeah. He’s great.” Emma’s laugh was feeble and she ducked her head.  Regina clapped her hands. “This has been fun, catching up. We should do this again sometime.” She flashed another gorgeous, winning smile, and moved in the direction of the lingerie. “Best of luck on the campaign trail,” Belle called after her. Waiting until Regina was out of earshot, Belle whirled on Emma. “Excuse me, but what the hell was that?”
“Never mind. We have shopping to do.” Emma cleared her throat and tried to slide past her, but Belle held her ground.
“The shopping can wait. Who died and crowned Regina Mills queen?”
Belle had zero patience for people who clambered for social standing and pronounced themselves better than others. Having been so often on the receiving end of other people’s sarcasm, Belle rarely talked down to people. But standing up to bullies didn’t count. Something about watching Emma cower in front of Regina caused an angry fire to blaze in her belly. Maybe she was lousy at defending herself, but she’d be damned if she’d let anyone walk all over her friend. Emma shrugged and studied the dresses. She was pretending not to care about the awkward encounter, but Belle knew better. “I don’t like small talk. ‘Hi. How are you?’ she parroted. ‘Oh, I’m fine, how are you?’ News flash: nobody’s fine.”
“Em…”
“No matter how she makes it sound, Regina and I weren’t friends in high school, we were competitors.” She rolled her eyes. “She reminisces about Mr. Walsh’s English class like that was the only time we saw each other. I guess she forgot about the four years we spent one-upping each other on the cheerleading squad, softball team, and the debate team. Always trying to be smarter, stronger, and skinnier than the other. We were out for blood.”
“Then why are you letting her get under your skin?”
Emma sighed and pulled on her ponytail. “You know Cora Mills?”
“Cora Mills, the mayor? Of course.” Belle suppressed a shudder.
Regina’s mother, Cora, had been mayor of Storybrooke for as long as Belle could remember. Cora was a cold, calculating woman, but what she lacked in lovable qualities, she made up for in efficiency. She ran Storybrooke like a machine and no one could argue with her methods, not even Gold, who was paid to search out everything. From the few times Belle had met her, she realized Cora wasn’t mean so much as devoid of emotion.  Beyond a perfunctory review of the library budget once a year, Belle was fortunate to rarely communicate with the Mayor’s Office and even when she did, it was strictly emails between Belle and Cora’s assistant. The library and its services were beneath Cora’s notice; so long as Belle didn’t ask for too much money, she stayed under her radar—which was exactly the way she liked it.
Emma wandered to a bench next to the row of fitting rooms and plopped down. “My mom always wanted to be like her, you know.”
“Really?” Belle would never have expected sweet, kind Mary Margaret Nolan to want to emulate Cora Mills.
Emma smirked. “Once, a long time ago, Mom even tried bidding against her for Mayor but she was too nice. She was laughed out of the first debate, and it’s a good thing because the town would have walked all over her. Since Mom couldn’t be like Cora, she decided the next best thing would be for me to be like Cora’s daughter, Regina. I spent every day of high school trying to beat Regina for one reason: because my mom couldn’t beat hers.”
“Wow,” Belle said. “I would never have known. Your mom is such a great teacher and your parents are like a fairytale marriage. Talk about relationship goals.”
“Exactly. The thing with my mom is she’s incredible just as she is,” she said. “Former prom queen, straight-A student, a born teacher. She’s smart and pretty and married to the perfect, charming husband. And she loves Storybrooke—but not for me.”
“But your parents live in Storybrooke.” Confused, Belle furrowed her brow. “That seems like a bit of a double-standard.”
“Yeah.” Emma shook her head. “’Why do you want to take pictures of engaged couples and local pet adoptions?’ she said, mimicking her mother’s innocent tone. “She would rather I was out on the front lines of some war documenting the dying.” “Like Gold used to?” Belle nodded in sympathy and claimed the empty side of the bench. She knew all too well the feeling of being expected to be someone you couldn’t be and dashing parental hopes in the process. “She feels like you shouldn’t be satisfied with a simple life.” “Bingo! And she resents the hell out of Gold for telling me what it’s really like out there. I think that’s why I’m closer to him now than I am my own parents. He understands weakness and failure in a way I don’t think they can. I’m not some conceited little bitch who’s hiding in the bathroom to throw up everything she eats to fit in anymore, but sometimes that really sucks, you know?”
“Yeah, I do.” Belle’s heart clenched in sympathy. Sometimes she still got sucked into the vortex of her own self-pity and forgot that everyone—even gorgeous, wonderful Emma—was fighting a battle. Trying to be yourself was hard work. It was so much easier to toe the line of people’s expectations, to do and say what made others feel comfortable and safe. “So there’s Regina, first conquering the state of Maine, then the world.” Emma put her head in her hands. “And here I am...not running for a spot even on the PTO. Married with a kid and pregnant again.” “You’re pregnant?” Belle slung an arm around Emma and dragged her against her side in an awkward hug. “Oh, sweetie, that’s amazing!” “Ya think? Emma sniffled but looked hopeful for the first time since they had entered the boutique. “Really? I wasn’t expecting another baby. It just happened.”
“Henry is going to be a big brother!” Belle squealed, excited enough for both of them. “Does your mom know yet?”
“Are you kidding?” “What did Neal say?”
Emma shook her head and touched her belly. “You’re the first soul I’ve told.”
“Me?” Belle crowded closer to Emma and drew her head down on her shoulder. She smoothed Emma’s hair back from her temples, soothing her the way her mother used to when she was little while she tried to process the news. To think she was the first to know about the new addition coming to the Cassidy household. She hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever been first in someone else’s confidence. At least not...well there’s Gold, of course.” She felt Emma nod against her shoulder. “I know what you mean. I’ve had friends. Acquaintances. Then when I met Neal he satisfied any need I had for friends. He’s a great husband and I love him to pieces, but it’s not like this. Like us. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Belle.”
“Me too,” she said, tears scalding her eyes. She’d known it was true—had felt the stirrings of their bond deep in her spirit ever since their first real conversation at Henry’s birthday clambake. Between family dinners, walks, and girls nights out, the invisible force between them only grown stronger. Somehow acknowledging their friendship out loud made it seem more solid. Precious. As important to her as her love for Gold, but in a different way.
“Now stand up,” Emma said, fishing into her pocket for a crumpled tissue. “I wanna see this dress!”
Belle shot to her feet and smoothed the skirt, her fingers fluttering around the waist and hips while Emma zipped up the back.
“I love it,” she said, motioning for Belle to twirl around.
“Really? You don’t think it makes me look like a medieval strumpet?”
“Hell no!” Emma whistled as Belle turned around again. “You’re stunning. All we need now are Spanx and shoes. And maybe some lingerie for the after-party?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Maybe.” Belle’s face flamed at the thought of wearing a negligee for Gold. “What about you?”
“We’ll get to me after lunch.” She patted her still-flat tummy. “There’s a place down the street serving yummy cheese-covered waffle fries and this kid wants some now.”
Belle’s stomach growled in answer. “Lead the way.”
Their waiter was clearing the lunch plates at the café when Belle heard a knock on the window. She did a double-take as her father waved through the glass with a sheepish smile. Her turkey club sandwich, which had tasted so delicious a few minutes ago, now lodged in her stomach. What was he doing here in the city?
“I’ll grab the check, Belle. You go talk to him,” Emma urged. “If I see things are getting bad I’ll come outside and rescue you.”
Nodding, she gathered her coat and made her way outside, wondering what would bring her father looking for her in Portland of all places, when she hadn’t seen him once on the streets of Storybrooke in the three weeks since she’d moved out.
The air was frigid even in the sunshine, and she seemed to grow colder with every step she took toward her father.
“Daddy?” She wrapped her arms around herself to keep from reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s the Portland flower show.” He brushed a bit of pollen off the sleeve of his coat. “I was in the neighborhood and saw you having lunch in the window.” “Ah.” Her dad attended the vendor-focused flower exhibition every year. She should have prepared for the possibility of running into him in town, but she’d completely forgotten it was this weekend.
“We haven’t heard from you in weeks, darling. Edith was devastated when you collected your things and left us.”
Belle gave a noncommittal grunt and thrust her cold hands in her pockets. Edith was devastated? Perish the thought her own father actually missed her.
“Marco treating you well?”  he asked gruffly.
“Like family,” she retorted, her voice carrying a sharpness she hadn’t intended.
Her father’s face paled and she instantly regretted her tone. There was no call to be so mean-spirited, especially when it somehow succeeded in making her feel worse instead of better.
He sniffed. “Will we see you for Thanksgiving?“
Belle looked into the clear blue sky, distancing herself from his hopeful gaze. "Marco’s cooking a huge feast, so I’ll be eating with him and Gold and the Cassidys.“
“Christmas?“
She blew out an exasperated breath and hugged herself again. “Let’s push through one nightmare holiday at a time, okay?“
He huffed. “I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.”
“Are we still talking about holidays, or are you referring to other bad situations?” She thought back to the horrible family dinner she’d put Gold through when she’d tossed a roll at Edith’s head and stormed out. “I can’t live like that anymore. I won’t.”
“You’ve changed, Belle. Is this…is this Gold’s influence on you, then?” He seemed to deflate before her eyes, this giant of a man shriveling down to a pathetic shell. “When did you become this way? So stubborn. So willful.” His lips shook as he spoke. “If your mother were alive, she…”
“But she’s not, Daddy,” Belle interrupted. “Mother hasn’t been with us for years. She’s not here to tell you what to do and what to say, and for that matter neither is Edith. You’re the one who changed. It’s as Erskine said, you don’t even see me. Maybe you never did.”
“Belle!” Emma jogged over to the rescue, her breath a white cloud in the cold afternoon air. “Hey, Mister French. We really gotta get going if we’re going to finish shopping and I promised Henry I’d be home in time to tuck him in.”
“Great. I’m freezing anyway.” She looped her arm through Emma’s and mustered a sad, parting smile for her father. After years of trying to gain his attention and approval, she wasn’t sure when she would see him again and at the moment, she didn’t care. “Take care of yourself, Dad.”
###
46 notes · View notes
antihero-writings · 5 years
Text
Tu Fui Ego Eris—Don’t Starve Fic (Full Fic)
Fic Title: Tu Fui Ego Eris
Fic Synopsis: “As you are now, so once was I. As I am now, so shall you be.” Poetic prose from the Ancient Fuelweaver/King.
Character Focus: Ancient Fuelweaver 
Notes: I was watching Zeklo’s lore/theory videos and I thought my brain might explode if I didn’t do something with all the information, so this happened! Aside from the actual quotes from the Ancient Fuelweaver (the bolded parts), I think most of the ideas behind this fic come from his video about the murals in the Ancient Ruins.
(This is a repost of an old fic!) 
Fic:
How we’ve fallen.
It was not enough. The earth and the sky were not enough. Not enough, and full of storms and winters.
So we went beneath the ground, where the only thing to fear falling from the sky was the earth.
When there were no stones left, we mined our own nightmares.
I think we forgot what light looked like.
“King,” “reign,” even “love,” became empty letters in our infected plane. I thought I knew what those strings of symbols were, what they meant, but some lightning-struck, honeyed words, and a spiked staff, told me otherwise. And my heart turned black.
We are so far beneath the flowers.
I was not always a shadow. Neither were my people. But we consorted with nightmares, until nightmares we became. No light. No life. Left.
I promise you, there is a right. Do not pretend, do not tell your soul, otherwise. And I was wrong.
Hard shells on our backs, into soft black, into nothing at all.
We lost our hands and faces…I called back their hands and faces...
I will make you understand.
It is not an easy fate. To be a king, then a prisoner. It would be grim indeed, to be a prisoner in a foreign land. It is, I think, worse yet to be a prisoner in your own land, chained to your head; still a king, still on the throne, still with the power—more of it perhaps—but the throne blooms into thorns beneath your feet, beneath your reign, beneath your brain, in your tattered city, beneath the ground. The nightmare throne, where there is no such thing as ransom. Where the hands clasping yours belong not to your queen, but the demons that talked you into this current plight—even if they’re your demons, and your own mind made them.
Cannot leave. Cannot die. Cannot see Metheus again. Watch, and wait, with all that power in your grasp. The only choice is to go mad with it. The only choices are wrong, and wrong, and wrong. You don’t make them because you think they’re, in any way, right. Not for any righteous reason; not glory, nor even show of strength, not to save someone, not even yourself. Not for any reason at all. Just boredom. Just waiting. Just to fill the nothing. Because sometimes you’d rather have something, than nothing at all. Even if it’s terrible, cruel—the motives of a mad creature, mad king, ruler over this insanity, and ruled by it all the same—to cause them this pain, and this much, at least it’s better than hollow wind, and taunting memories. It is a rare affliction, I do not expect you to understand it (you, with your head full of needs and wants, and your blood still red…you are so very lucky) but sometimes you’d rather have nightmares than no dreams at all.
Or at least watch them play out for someone else.
You forget the importance of dreams until nightmares are all that is left.
You will be unraveled. You will rip apart at the seams.
And watch them die. No pleasure in their pain, though there may have been a sick part of it all at first. Pure jealousy. You start to long for horrible things. And when they cry ‘please, I don’t want to die!’ before they starve, before the hound’s tooth is shoved through their heart, before the darkness snatches their light away, and with it their life, you want nothing more than to take their place. When you know this to your core, then you will know why Death itself is pure mercy.
So you make them come back. You refuse to give them that mercy. It was not granted you, why should it be granted them? Revive, resurrect, just to watch them die over and over again, feeling a pang like addiction in the back of your heart. Mercy or torture, all depends on the voice you use to say the words. All depends on if you’re watching the scene from before, or beyond, the grave, or somewhere in between.
Or upon the nightmare throne.
You will not suffer. You have not known suffering.
It is not an easy fate. To be a blackened heart dropped by the shadow of a machine you once created. Our clockwork, still ticking, fighting a fight they no longer remember. To be thrust into a corpse, not your own, to be made to fight too—like you’re the toy, and not the once-king—and, at last receive the drug you crave, and carved: death. To slumber, only to come back again, because someone else upon the throne named it so.
How long have I slumbered?
Full of hate and rage and regret. I remember it all. Unlike you, who seem to have forgotten your past, as the world has forgotten mine.
You will fall, as we did.
Steal our gems, break down our walls, steal our hearts, take our souls. It doesn’t frighten we, who are shadows. But the moment you hold dreams-gone-awry in the palm of your hand, I feel a phantom stir in a heart-gone-wrong, that reminds me of something I used to call fear. I know you took the idea from us—this notion that bad dreams can fuel things—but, like a disease, we caught it from them. Knowledge may be power, but when fueled by nightmares, when wielded by them, power and knowledge are less than worthless; they are a negative.
They will not show you mercy. They are coming. It cannot be stopped. You know not what the gateway holds.
Broken gateways of forgotten realms (our threadbare world, our listless skies) may seem harmless, but they will arouse something inside you called curiosity. Find the key, steal it from the Ancient Guardian. Just to see what it does. Revive the king. Just to win the fight. Curiosity may be more lethal, more venomous, than you bargain for, with more bite to it than knowledge or power.
You saw an entire civilization built on nightmares and you thought, why not us too? Did your mind (still working, still with the dreams) ever wonder if maybe the blackened tears, and the reddened floorboards, were more than just an eerie exhibition, but a warning? That maybe it was the past, begging you turn away? Then you gave those frayed yesterdays my voice. And still, you refuse to listen.
I must do this. For your sake.
I am not some animal to kill for sport, or meat, or treasure in my heart’s beat. Don’t mistake me for a beast, or a boss. I am not merely a shadow. I once weaved the fuel as you do; weaved the tale of my own demise into carpets, and tapestries. My city...in tatters... this world… threadbare.
I have fought very hard to remain more than merely a shadow, and will not be reduced to the absence of light now. Cast into this fight, the light, but I have decided to be more. It may be hard to imagine, but this is about more than blood, and victory.
I will save you.
I would have nothing worth fighting for. If it weren’t for you. New creatures. Humans, as you are called.
Maxwell. The new king. ‘Amazing’. Perhaps, perhaps not. Perhaps no creature can be amazing enthroned in nightmares. With a flair for magic all-too-real, with too much knowledge, and too much power, you would succumb, far too fast.
This was another important piece I learned about humanity: darkness has a way with you.
Willow. The fire, without the spark. There is always something to burn, child, and sometimes you’re the only thing left. Best not reach the point where you’ll burn it all, with yourself in those flames too. Or when it is yourself you wish to burn, but your heart will not even char.
Wolfgang. the strongman. Too little brain, and a heart too soft. Afraid of the cold and the dark. What good is a strongman with a weakened heart? But, then again, what good is a creature with a callous heart, and the strength to follow the threats through? Perhaps it’s for the best that you were made to be kind.
Wendy. The girl, and the ghost. The one who knows death is inevitable, but how, here, though death runs rampant, life is far more impervious to being overthrown. The one who knows there is more to life than curiosity. But weakness can go a long way, and the things that haunt you may protect you now, but one day they may turn around, with reddened glaze. Maybe one day you’ll remember how memories can come alive, and why they are called ghosts.
WX-78. Invention, not man. Metal, not flesh. I wonder, does a thing like you have a soul? I wonder, when the lightning strikes, do you feel its burn, its warm glow? Or are these strings just numbers tied to your wires? If I tried to talk to the sense in you, would there be any sense in you to talk to? When you tell the living things their inadequacy, I must admit, you have your points. But I wonder if it means anything to you, if those words are yours, or if they are numbers your maker wrote into you. Maybe that's all any of us are, and the question was pointless from the beginning.
Wickerbottom. The librarian. The library. The reader. The writer. The stuck-in-her-ways. Do you see how knowledge can only get you so far? That your hands may not be the right ones to wield it? Though, there may be no one to wield it right; too much of knowledge should be left on the forest floor. Still, perhaps it is better to know, than to wander in the dark. But when you choose ignorance for the sake of curiosity, for the sake of more knowledge, what good is the knowledge you had in the first place?
Woodie. Now there’s an interesting sight. The lumberjack, with the axe who talks like a lady, and a condition of the moon that is laughable at best, and pathetic at worst. Still, though your story may sound as such, you are not the least sane of the bunch.
Wes. The silent. The mime. Not to be confused with the actor. Only there to make things worse for the ones behind the strings. Only there to make balloons and pop them, and not say a word, and try your very best to be a living thing, and fail from the beginning.
We are all tied to strings, waiting to hit the sky, to fall back down, or pop apart somewhere in the middle.
Wigfrid. Here’s the actor. The one to take things just a little bit too far. If the acting kills you dear, if it gives you more reason to fear, and less fear to draw from, then perhaps its best to live in the real world.
Or perhaps this world was never real in the first place.
Webber. The spider-boy, the one who understands perhaps more than the rest give him credit for. The child, with the face of a monster. And if only the rest of you understood, maybe you’d say poor, poor thing, until your lips bleed with pity. You poor, poor boy, you should not go into the dark. Should not go into the light. Sometimes the grown ups are more childish than the young. And I wish they listened to you.
The darkness’ sister. With rough hands, and a mind to mend machines and metal, but with no less darkness in her than the sister herself.
And at last Wilson. The scientist. The comedian. The perfect balance. Nothing too weak, nothing too strong. But people want strength, and will ignore the weakness for it sake. They don’t want normal—even if you’re a little bit mad, and your story, a little bit sad, they may choose someone with a little more flash, a little more to be had.
In the end, that is the moral to my sad little tale—my bedtime story of the ticking clock and nightmare hands: Science, with a dash of madness, and magic; mind, with a dash of heart; will kill us, or save us all. And maybe you—the first, the most logic-bound, and perhaps maddest of us, were the protagonist after all, and it is your hands, your lips, your brain, your heart, that will seal our fates.
You are more like me than either of us might care to admit.
I know your tale too; how science failed you, and how those demon-hands reached out to grab your wrists, your heart, to chain your mind to the nightmares too. But unlike for me, or Maxwell, somehow you were shown mercy. All of you, brought together, to defeat me, and enter their world. You may not be the king, that may not be your rule. So my question is far more simple: if science and magic destroyed you once, twice, who will you turn to in the end? Will you fall back to the lightning’s warm glimmer, or will you dare to refuse the nightmares that call from below?
This is the reason I am still willing to fight; you. All of you.
The future. The fight. The guilty-of-theft. The curious. The cold. The only thing left.
I will save you.
The gate is not what you think. And even if where it leads may seem harmless, of little consequence, at first, they are still there, waiting. They are unfathomable. I know you think you can reset ruins, because the things you mine beneath the ground, in the nightmares' realm, are the most valuable, but they are ruins for a reason, and restarting will not make them, make me, whole again.
Don’t open the gate. Don’t restart. Don’t try it, but don’t lose heart. I will not protest to death, if it means you will understand, and leave the broken parts.
Don’t…
...Don’t…
...(Don’t)...
...Y-yy...
You made your choice.
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wargreyfics · 6 years
Text
Maths, My One True Weakness (Part 2)
SUMMARY:
Naomi meets up with Asa at the public library, as promised. He tutors her as he is supposed to, but she discovered more things about him as their afternoon go on.
   The library wasn’t a place she frequently visits. In fact, she had zero memory as to when she came to the town’s public library the last time. She doesn’t hate reading, it’s just that the books she reads are those she has really strong interest in.
   A soft creak announced her presence to the middle-aged lady sitting behind the counter. She greeted her with a warm smile, which Naomi greeted back with a slightly more awkward smile, before she returned her attention to the computer. That left Naomi free to roam around the place to find her tutor.
   She found him sitting at one of the tables next to the aisle that says ‘Fiction: G-H’, reading a big, thick book that easily splayed open without his fingers needing to press the pages apart. A large pair of black headphones hugged his head, over his ears. She was amused at the thought that he still found this place not quiet enough that he had to bring such large headphones. He probably couldn’t hear her coming, so when she stood next to him, she gently placed her bag near him. The shudder from the impact her bag made with the table alerted the half-blind young man.
   “Oh, hey, you’re here,” he said, hastily turning off his music and taking off his headphones. Something that looked like a smaller earphone tumbled off from his right ear, and noticing he dropped it, he caught it in his hand before placing it in the breast pocket of his shirt.
   “Why are you wearing an earphone inside a headphone?” Naomi asked, sitting next to him.
   “It’s my aid,” Asa replied quickly. His face slightly red, flustered from how awkward and stupid he was for hurrying. He realized he didn’t need to be such in a hurry.
   “Aid?”
   “Yeah, my hearing aid. I’m deaf—well, only on this side…” he explained, one finger made a circling motion in front of his right ear.
   “Oh… Sorry…”
   “Nah, no, it’s fine. It’s not like it’s obvious that I’m half-deaf, not as obvious as my being half-blind.”
   “Then...why aren’t you wearing it right now?” She pointed at his breast pocket where he dropped the hearing aid into.
   “Don’t need it. The library’s quiet, I can hear you just fine.” His eye darted to her bag, trying to steer the conversation away from his handicaps. “So? Which one do you have problems with?” he asked.
   “Everything!” Naomi replied with a gusto, taking all of her textbook and notes. “I’m sorry, but please start from the beginning of this term.”
   Asa gulped; not because he was afraid of having to explain half a term’s worth of math equations, but he basically gulped for her sake. “You do realize we have only about two weeks before midterms, right? You sure you want me to cram that much in this little amount of time?”
   Naomi pouted, acknowledging that he was right. She had thought about this and it scared her. “W-well...let’s just...start with the first half of the first chapter, then see if I can handle them or not.”
   “Fair enough. Alright, let’s not waste anymore time.”
   Asa was quick to turn into tutor mode, and he was quite the stern tutor at that, too. Whenever Naomi lost focus and started going off on a tangent, Asa tapped her on her arm with the back of his hand, accompanied with a sharp, “Focus,” jabbed at her. It happened several times during their first two hours of tutoring; Naomi was obviously trying to make the suffering much more bearable, but when she tried to do so, Asa noticed, she really attempted to steer every attention away from maths. Asa’s main struggle was to keep her listening to him.
   Naomi still hated maths, and despite her multiple attempts to escape from her tutoring, she found herself somewhat understanding the formulae she never understood before. Granted, Asa had to speak to her as if he was speaking to an elementary student, because the fancy math terms escaped her. He used Naomi’s strong tendency to make fun rhymes to her advantage, which works awesomely with trigonometry. And three long, arduous hours later, the older of the two decided to end the tutoring session, much to Naomi’s relief.
   She stretched her arms up, groaning with relief. “Oh my goooooood! My head is gonna explode!”
   “You’re fine. We managed to cover through our goal, didn’t we? You can go home now, eat...ice cream, I dunno. Whatever you like.”
   “I like ice cream.” She packed her books and notes back into her bag, while Asa grabbed the large book she found him reading in the beginning of the day. She watched him rummage into his bag and pulled out a bookmark with a picture of some character from a game that was currently quite a hot discussion topic, typically among the boys. She kept hearing how said game made them frustrated, but at the same time excited. He slipped the themed bookmark about a fifth through the thick book. He had read that much since his arrival to the library and their meeting?
   “Not only are you apparently pretty shy, but a straight-A student, a bookworm, and a gamer, too? You’re actually a pretty big nerd, aren’t ya?” Naomi teased with a big wide grin plastered on her heart-shaped face. Her remark earned her a blush and stammers from the eleventh grader.
   “Y-yeah? So what if I’m a nerd?” he retorted, trying to remain stalwart.
   Naomi giggled. “Nothing. It’s just really interesting that everything is packed in such a tall package of muscles and rage. You honestly strike more as the typical jock type. Hold on...don’t tell me you play football too?”
   Asa sighed and walked to the counter. There, Naomi learned that Asa and the librarian seemed to be very familiar with each other, judging by their small talk. A small talk which he cut off to talk to her. “I can play football, but not part of the club. I’m not in any clubs at school, actually.” He paused and thought about his next words. He wanted to decide against it, but he ended up telling her anyway. What harm could there be? “I do go to the gym and take wrestling three days a week, though…”
   “Ha! That still counts as a jock thing!” Naomi laughed as they exited the library. “You must be popular, huh?”
   “I dunno. You don’t seem to know me, otherwise you wouldn’t be talking to me. Your friends, though, oh I know they know who I am. They don’t want you to talk to me.” Asa grimaced; he acted like he didn’t care but he paid close attention to Esh-baal and Eve’s body language, how they just succumbed to Naomi’s genuine wishes to present him with her homemade lunch. He could tell at least one of them was ready to pick up a fight with him should he harm this tiny blond girl. A lot of the students wanted to fight him, not just the bullies.
   “Oh, they’re always in with the gossips and stuff. I don’t. I’m happy with cooking shows and DIY videos.” She lightly skipped in her steps, contrasting the way Asa took giant heavy strides that made him appear to walk fast. “I must say, I almost think you’d join Kazuo and his guys to gang up on me back then… Glad that wasn’t the case!”
   “Who—oh. That prick. Ehh, I’ve had a lot of beef with that kid for a long time. Picked on Glovar when he first entered the swimming club, but my bro defended himself. You just...happened to be his victim at the time, that gave me an excuse to dish some payback. Feels real good.”
   “Well, I’m glad my being harrassed turned to be beneficial. Also, it made a positive first impression of you for me!”
   Asa raised an eyebrow—well, his only visible eyebrow—at the shorter girl. “Really? You’re not scared, after how I threatened a junior off a window that one time?”
   “Now that I know what a big nerd you are, no! Besides, you were saving your brother, weren’t you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side, a smile sitting on her face. “You’ve been nothing but a pretty nice jock-nerd combo to me this whole time.”
   The tall young man shifted his mouth and ground his teeth together to hold back a big bright blush. “Okay, enough with the labels.” His eyes looked up momentarily as they arrived at a crossroads and stopped to turn to her. “Which way’s your house?”
   “There,” she pointed straight ahead, “at Clementine Road. Where’s yours?”
   “Same way, but two blocks further at Cherimoya. But I’m meeting up with my sister this way,” he said, pointing to the road to his left.
   She giggled, knowing they didn’t live too far apart. “Nice. Still in the ‘Fruity District’,” she giggled again, this time at her own nickname for the area of their houses. The roads were, indeed, named after fruits. But then her brain tuned in to another piece of his sentence. It made her freeze for a moment. “Wait wait wait… Sister? I never—”
   “You know her,” he cut her off, “she goes to the same school as us.”
   “What grade? Is she younger? Older?”
   “Not a student.”
   “A teacher?! Which one? Tell me!” She hopped towards him, standing as close as possible in front of him, eager to know.
   “I’ll give you a clue: she teaches English.”
   It wasn’t much of a riddle; she gasped with the answer somewhat choked up behind her voice. “Miss Cayaditto?! She’s your sister? But your last names...oh, wait, she must be married.”
   The way she reacted to the revelation amused him, Asa had a good chuckle out of it. “No, not married. Not yet. But, yeah, she’s my sister. Okay, technically not, but we used to grow up in the same house before she moved out with her boyfriend. Uh, long story. I’d tell you when I’m not in such a hurry.” His feet moved towards the road that lead him to his sister, while Naomi to her house.
   Naomi understandingly nodded and headed towards her home. “No problem. See ya!” She started walking, but turned around before both of them departed too far. “Wait! Asa!” she hollered. She made sure to holler as loud as she sanely could, remembering that he was half-deaf. Luckily, not many cars were around at the moment. “Can I eat lunch with you again?”
   Asa didn’t answer immediately. His eye was searching for an answer on a blank sidewalk tile, his lips pursed. Soon, his hand cupped his chin. He glanced quickly at her, only to find her eagerly waiting for an answer—which she expected to be ‘yes’ judging by how hopeful she looked. He thought Grimoaldo had given her the warning, he thought Esh-baal and Eve had warned her. Either they actually failed to do so, or this girl just had the determination the size of a kaiju. He sighed through his nostrils. “Yeah, only if you promise to focus when we meet again tomorrow. And, uh, if your math grade doesn’t improve the next pop quiz, no more VIP rooftop lunch for you. Copy that?”
   Her eyes and face beamed. She striked a saluting pose with a gusto. “Sir, yes, sir!” she exclaimed, followed by a series of giggles. Asa returned her salute out of amusement, though his gesture had less oomph in it. They saw each other off for the second time, and for real.
   Asa thought back of his decision; worrying if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He was mainly influenced by what she said; after purposefully building an intimidating image throughout his school years, it felt pleasing to find someone who saw past that, and he clung to the sentiment. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but for once, he wanted to go against his harder, colder instincts.
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monotonemanday · 6 years
Text
Star Crossed Entertainers - Part 9
People are skipping rehearsals, going on reckless drives. But that could turn into a cute date? Maybe some fluff? Maybe Sam will stop being such a downer? We’ll see! ;P Enjoy!!l
Kaeli’s arms were wrapped tight around Zen’s torso and her head was right next to his, peeking over his shoulder. They were zooming through back roads, twists and turns on an endless curvy path. Tree’s lined the streets and the sun was setting. Wearing her sundress her arms were getting cold. Each time a chill would run through her body she would tighten her hold on Zen even more. 
His face was so hot he wondered if she could feel the warmth through both their helmets since their heads were so close together. Zen’s heart was pounding and he couldn’t let off the throttle of the bike. He was going too fast, but all he was thinking about was the tiny pixie like blonde that was pasted on his back. Every time her arms tightened around him his heart would beat even faster. He took a turn too sharp and thought he might lose control of the bike. He brought his mind back down to earth and refocused on his driving. There is no way he would be responsible for anything happening to Kaeli. Besides…Sam would KILL him.
She didn’t mind the speed or the sporadic driving. She barely noticed. Kaeli loved the rush. Samantha, Kang-Dae, every employee that worked for him. They were all treating her like she was fragile. A baby. Zen treated her the way that she wanted. She felt free and in control of her own life. She wanted to be with him and when she was, no one was telling her how to behave, how to act or telling her to be cautious. 
Zen pulled off onto a dirt road that went deep into the tree line. About 5 minutes of driving in and they reached a clearing. A beautiful clearing with lush green grass and wildflowers blooming everywhere. In the middle of the clearing was a breathtaking pond. The sun was just about set and you could tell that the moon and stars would be out in full glory.
Turning off the bike, he almost didn’t want to get off just due to the fact Kaeli would have to take her hands off of him. Stepping off the bike and removing his helmet he hung it on the handle. Kaeli undid the strap under her chin and pulled the helmet off, her blonde hair falling out gently and resting just below her shoulders. Just like when he dropped her off a few nights before Zen lifted the petite woman off of the bike and gently placed her feet on the ground but this time he didn’t let her go.
The two held a gentle gaze, staring directly into each others eyes. Kaeli could see her bright blue eyes reflected in Zen’s ruby red eyes, and Zen could see his ruby red eyes reflected in Kaeli’s bright blue eyes. In turn the two were seeing purple.
Kaeli broke the gaze to look out toward the gorgeous scene laid out before them. The pond had light ripples due to the gentle breeze and as the moon and the stars came out they were being softly reflected in the water.
“Zen this is beautiful. Is this a place you come to often?”
“Oh, I’ve been here a couple times. Just when I needed to clear my thoughts.”
He couldn’t stop staring at her.
His hands were still settled on her waist but she had lifted her grip on his forearms so she could rub her arms to keep warm.
“Oh Jagiya, here.” The white haired prince took his jacket off and laid it across her shoulders.
“Jagiya?” Kaeli tilted her head and gave him a puzzled look. Then she looked away from him and back out towards the view.
Oh no. Was that too formal? Zen’s cheeks were burning. He was about to apologize when Kaeli spoke up.
“…No one has ever called me that before. Well at least not anyone that mattered.” She looked back at the handsome musical actor. “I like it.”
A strong hand had gripped hers tight and long fingers intertwined with her own. Zen led her to the base of the pond and the two sat in the lush grass with their feet just at edge of the water.
They sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. Holding hands, their palms were almost sweating from the warmth. Zen broke the silence this time.
“So a lot has happened this past couple of days. I didn’t know you would be such a handful, Little Pixie.” Zen laughed and gave her his brightest smile.
Kaeli couldn’t match his energy. She knew there were things she had to tell him, and even if she did, there would still be a lot more that she wouldn’t be able to. She hated that she kept secrets and would have to continue keeping them. Well at least for another couple of days.
“Yes. I guess you learned a good bit about me. I’m sure you’re curious about some things.”
“I’m not going to push you into telling me anything you don’t want to, Jagiya. I understand the kind of life you live. Did you know I used to be in a gang?”
“Sammy did.”
“Well I get it. It’s dangerous and you can never be too careful about who you open up to. But I trust you, Kaeli. And I don’t care if right now you are keeping things from me. We have time to flush everything out. Right now, I just enjoy being in your company.”
Kaeli looked toward Zen and smiled. “I’ll tell you everything I can.”
Samantha was back on the freeway. Rushing past each car like she was gracefully completing an obstacle course on ice skates. She loved the speed and she loved the feeling of leaving all her worries behind her. She hopped off the freeway and drove into town. She new exactly where she was headed. Her sunglasses were resting on top of her head since the sun was setting. Approaching a stop light downtown she pulled up next to another sports car. Their top was down same as her. It was a single person. A man. An older man. The kind of older man she’s been dealing with her whole life it seemed like. The kind she despised. The man looked over at her and leaned back. Laid his wrist on the steering wheel, obviously making sure he flashed his Rolex. He winked at her, and began to rev his engine.
Alright. Kang wants me to act like royalty? He says I’m rebellious? If that’s how they all see me, I’ll make sure I live up to what they envisioned. 
Sam rolled her eyes at the man and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes. She raised an eyebrow and continuing to stare at him, revved her engine in response. She pressed the CD button on the stereo and hit track number 4. It was a cliché but it was her absolute favorite. Joan Jett - Bad Reputation. She cranked the volume and without waiting for the light to change, charged through the intersection leaving the old pervert far in the rearview mirror. 
Sam pulled into the parking lot of a video arcade. She just wanted to blow off some steam. Some racing games, some shooters, maybe some pinball. However, she forgot that she was in a pencil skirt, a silk camisole, and a pair of stilettos. She had ditched the cardigan somewhere on the freeway. She wanted to feel the wind on her skin. Her hair was still curled but gained massive volume due to driving with the top down. She looked like a sexy librarian or a hot lawyer. Not making the connection to the way she looked and the fact that the place was going to be packed with a bunch of college boys, she carelessly sauntered in the front doors. 
She found her way to an empty machine. A shoot out game. She grabbed the plastic gun and held it in both hands, being cautious of her injury, taking a very familiar stance. You could tell she knew how to handle a gun. First round, every target hit. Second round, every target hit. Sharp focus. She didn’t notice the college boys rubbernecking to catch a glance at her. Tenth round, still every target hit. She had already surpassed the high score. 
A crowd had formed but still in her own head, Sam hadn’t noticed. They were chanting and cheering her on. Making rather icky comments about her. Now Twenty-two rounds in, a timid voice broke her out of her daze.
“Sam? Uhm, Samantha? Is that you?”
She stopped shooting and looked toward the small voice. She was met with blonde hair and big amethyst eyes. “Yoosung?”
“Yeah, It’s me! You remembered my name!”
“Of course I did, silly! Uhm what’s the deal with this sort of half circle deal going on behind me?”
“Oh well, uhm you kind of look like some sexy super spy. So you drew a bit of a crowd.”
Sam looked around at all the college kids gaping at her with their mouths open. Gross. 
“Alright shows over, get out of here ya vultures.”
Yoosung was laughing at the woman who was towering over him. She was already inches taller than him, but in stilettos? She was practically over a foot taller than him. “Sam shouldn’t you take it easy with those sharp shooting skills since you technically are a trained assassin and stuff?”
“Whoa Yoosung. Let’s keep it down, yeah? I know you learned a lot about me the other night but we still have to keep it quiet.” Sam was feeling a little uneasy. It probably wasn’t the best idea to go to an arcade that wasn’t strictly for adults. “Hey Yoosung, you’re of drinking age right?”
“I am!! Why do you ask?” The energetic blonde seemed overly thrilled by her inquiry.
“Do you want to grab a drink with me? There’s a place I think you’d like.” That was a lie. She had no idea if Yoosung would like it or not. She didn’t really know much about him at all. Just that he was fun and he considered them to be friends. She liked that.
The two made there way out of the arcade and through the parking lot to Sam’s porshe.
“Whoa! Sam this is your car?!”
“Oh uhm, yes! It was a gift some time ago. Buckle up!”
Yoosung was thrilled. Sam was driving so fast but she maneuvered the car like a dream! He had his arms in the air and was letting out abrupt “WWOOOOOO!!!” ‘s and OH YEAAAAHHH!!” ‘s.
They pulled up to what seemed to be a normal downtown building. A little bit like an Italian restaurant. 
Samantha opened the front door and Yoosung stuck his head inside. The only thing was a long stairway that went down. 
“Don’t be shy Yoosung! Go ahead!”
Yoosung walked down the stairs and Sam followed right on his heels. He opened the door. It was a Speakeasy. An underground bar that was lively and filled with laughter. Heads turned immediately and Yoosungs heart dropped to his stomach. Oh no. Should he not be here? He began to turn around to make his escape but a hand had pushed him forward. He met the eyes of what seemed like 100 people staring at him. He gulped waiting for what would happen next. 
“SAM!!!!”  The whole place bellowed out the tall brass haired woman’s name.
“Hey everyone! This is my pal Yoosung! He’s an absolute sweetheart and I don’t want any of you messing with him, got it?” She smiled at Yoosung and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He gave her a sheepish smile and she turned to the crowd. 
“Now where’s my drink, ya filthy animals?!”
Zen had just listened to Kaeli spill her heart out and not once did he interject. 
She had told him about how her and Sam had been best friends since they were 5 years old but they had lived together since senior year when her parents passed away in a plane crash. She explained that Samantha never had a family and was raised by Vanderwood. She explained that Samantha continuously saved her life. 
When it came to Reagan she was vague. She didn’t tell Zen that Reagan had tried to rape her. Or that Samantha almost killed him that night. She told him he was an ex and that he was the one that attacked them and gathered them for Kang-Dae. Just from that fact alone she could tell that a war was being battled inside of Zen. That’s why she left out the other details. She told him that she had to learn the high society life and the ways of an upscale escort. She told him that even though Samantha never admitted it, Kaeli knew Samantha made some sort of deal that made it so Kaeli didn’t have to do a lot worse. Explaining that Sam was an escort and a hired gun. Her background with the agency. How also due to Samantha’s sneaky ways Kaeli got to stop going on high society dates altogether and just handled PR work.
“Kaeli, You have lived a life that I can’t exactly relate to 100%. But when I was living my old life, in and out of gangs, taking care of myself after I ran away from home. I learned a lot about Kang-Dae and all of those circles. You are unbelievably strong and brave. If I could, I would take you away from it all. I am so glad that you’ve had Sam around to protect you.” The white haired prince looked out across the pond. “This is going to sound a little ridiculous but…I’m a little jealous of Sam.”
“Jealous of Sam?”
“Well, yeah. She is the closest person to you. She’s always been there to protect you and…well, I want to be that person.”
Kaeli’s eyes went wide and then they felt hot. Tears were pooling on the bottom of her eyes, resting on her eyelashes. 
“I understand you have a past, I have one too. But-”
“Zen?” She interrupted his sweet words and he looked over at her.
“Can I tell you about right now?”
“Sure, Jagiya.”
“Now I try my best to live a normal life. And I owe a lot of that to Sammy. I still work PR for The Spark Blood Syndicate but honestly, that’s something I won’t easily be able to get out of. I got back into theatre which I love so much. I was thrilled just to be back on stage but then I met you. I was astonished you even talked to me. When I flirted with you I thought I was making a complete ass of myself. But Zen, you treat me like a real person. You don’t baby me like Sam. You don’t act like the tiniest thing will break me. You make me smile, laugh, feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. My chest is warm whenever I’m with you and even when we’re apart I can’t get you out of my head. Riding with you on the back of your bike feels like the most natural thing in the world. I love the rush, the warmth of your back, and how I can feel my heart beat better when my chest is pressed against you. I am so glad you skipped rehearsal and brought me here. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be in this moment right now”
A pair of soft lips forcefully crashed against hers. The jacket slipped off of her shoulders but her body temperature didn’t change. There was a fire inside of her. She climbed onto the musical actors lap and returned his kiss. The tears that had pooled in her eyes had now overflowed and were streaming down her cheeks. They pulled away from their kiss and Zen held her face in his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs from her cheeks.
“Jagiya, I want to be with you. From the day you showed up at the theatre I had never known someone who had flirted with me so genuinely. Who wanted to get to know me because they were interested in me as a person, not just because of my extremely good looks or my acting career. My head is filled with thoughts of you and my heart overflows with good feelings whenever we’re together. I want you to be able to have the life you want. The life you deserve. I promise I’ll do whatever I can in order for you to be happy. And if you want, I hope that you’ll be happy…with me.”
She kissed his lips softly and lingered as long as she could until gently breaking away. She settled into his lap and laid her head against his chest. He laid his jacket over her like a blanket and wrapped his arms around her. She dozed off shortly after. Exhausted from the tears and the overwhelming amount of happiness she felt. Zen had watched her rising and falling and listening to her soft breathing. He kissed her forehead and gently shook her awake.
“Come on, Little Pixie. I should get you home.”
“THANK YOU THANK YOU! MY NAME IS YOOSUNG AND I’LL BE HERE…SAM HOW LONG AM I GOING TO BE HERE?”
“UUUUUHHHHH at least another hour or two?”
“AND I’LL BE HERE FOR ANOTHER HOUR OR TWO! YOU HAVE BEEN A WONDERFUL AUDIENCE AND I DO TAKE REQUESTS!”
The highly intoxicated blonde staggered off the small stage dropping the microphone on the floor and making his way to the equally intoxicated friend at a corner booth. 
“Yoosuuuuunnnggg. You have the voice of an ANGEL! You should cover for me at the club sometime.!”
The two were giggling like school girls but as the main room of the speakeasy started to get more and more empty they became very alert of what time it was. 
Samantha could handle her liquor but it had been awhile since she had gotten this drunk. She didn’t get emotional, sick, or angry. She. Got. SLEEPY. 
“Yoosung…we…should probably…call…”
“I’M ON IT!” Yoosung on the other hand wide awake, but also, extremely emotional.
“SAAAAAMMMMM SEVEN ISN’T ANSWERING T_T!!” The boy was whining and it was ear piercing.
“Just keep trying or try someone else. I‘ll make a call.” Sam took her phone out of her bra where she had stashed it and slowly dialed. 
Ringing ringing ringing…”Are you kidding me?”
“Vaannnddyyyyyyyyyy, what’s shaken?”
“Samantha…are you shit faced?”
“whhaaaatttt? Naaahhh I’m just hanging out with Yoosung! We are putting on a concert. They offered us 10 MILLION. How could we refuse?! But uh…I don’t think I can drive us home. We rocked waaayy too hard.”
“Unbelievable. You’re at the speakeasy aren’t you? Keep your ass there. I’ll be there…whenever I get there.”
“Van Man wait!! I brought Lily with me.”
“Fine, I’ll take a cab there and drive Lily back. Idiot.”
Sam hung up the phone and sunk into the booth. In the background she heard Yoosung on the phone, yelling and sobbing at someone. Almost asleep she made out a few words of what he was saying.
“Juummmiiiinnnnn. No one will answer me. Jumin I don’t want to walk home it’s scary!! Samantha’s hurt, she can’t protect me!”
Sam looked at her bandaged hand, oh right. She slowly finished dozing off. “Jumin?” The name slipped from her lips and she was out cold.
30 minutes had passed. Yoosung was being walked out, still sobbing but he had exhausted himself to the point that he was barely awake. Drifting in and out of consciousness herself, Samantha felt her body being lifted into the air. Whoever lifted her did it effortlessly. An arm under her legs and one behind her back. A bridal carry. Vanderwood? No. he wouldn’t be that gentle. He would have thrown her over his shoulder, mumbling how much of a pain in the ass she was. Her eyes still closed she clutched onto the persons broad chest, tilting her face in towards their body, She inhaled softly. That scent. It was familiar and comforting. Enough to sober her up, if only for a second.
“Jumin?”
“You’d be correct.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What exactly for?”
“For…”
Well for making an ass out of herself of course but there was so much more. For getting him involved with her, for complicating their feelings and their emotions. For lying to him, for continuing to lie to him. For constantly acting on her feelings towards him and never following through. It was never clear to her before but it took her being drunk off her ass to realize that she wanted to be with him.
Lost in her thoughts she didn’t answer him. She drifted back to sleep.
The Raven haired Prince of Business watched Driver Kim buckle Yoosung into the back of Jumin’s town car. Vanderwood was in the driver’s seat of the lavender Porsha. He carefully lowered Samantha’s body into the passenger seat, making sure her legs were clear of the door. He looked at her feet. Those shoes could not be comfortable. Not sensible footwear at all. But he had to admit, they looked good. He slipped the stilettos off of her feet and laid them in her lap. Pulling the seatbelt across her body and clicking it firmly. Jumin ran his hand through her hair and caressed her cheek. Samantha opened her eyes and smiled softly, reaching out and touching Jumins cheek in the same manner he was touching hers.
Softly and barely above a whisper she looked at him in the eyes and muttered “Mistah…Trust Fund…Kid…” her hand fell and she was back to sleep.
Jumin Han kissed her forehead  and ran his thumb across her bottom lip. He closed the passenger door and thanked Vanderwood for driving her home. He smiled as he watched the car make it’s way down the street. With his hands in his pockets he made his way to the backseat of the town car.
“Jumin *sob* I don’t know what I would do without you!!!”
“Yoosung,” He patted the young blonde on the shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”
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Text
The Plan
For Alistair Appreciation Week:  AU/Crossover day
a birthday gift for @aurlyn
you can read it on AO3 here
Alistair looks at the equations on the page but is more focused on Cullen sitting across the library table reading his history textbook than studying for midterms.  He sighs and props his elbow on the table, resting his cheek against his fist, and steals another peek.  He’s subtle about it though.  He’s tried to be very careful so no one else knows he’s got a huge crush on his best friend.  That’d be incredibly awkward.  Especially since Cullen is infatuated with Solona, though he hasn’t said anything about it.  Alistair supposes there are some things Cullen feels he doesn’t need to share.  Not that he wants to hear him drone on about her anyway.  
Cullen shifts in his chair and Alistair snaps his eyes back to his paper, afraid he’s been caught.  He sits silently, staring at his paper, but Cullen doesn’t say anything.  Alistair lets out the breath he’s been holding and glances at him from the corner of his eye.  He can’t help it.  Cullen is too perfect not to.  And he’s also nice.  And smart.  And funny.  Cullen looks up and smiles directly at him, and Alistair feels his belly swoop.  It’s been swooping like this for awhile now.  At least a year.  Or two.  But who’s counting?
They’ve been best friends for over a decade, bonding early and remaining close all the way through high school.  They even decided to attend the same university, and through it all their friendship was solid, never wavering, drama free, until that day.   The one day when his whole perspective changed, and roughhousing with his best friend took on an entirely different tone.  
He remembers it clearly.  They’d been in their dorm room sitting on Alistair’s bed taking a break from studying by playing video games, and Cullen kept losing.  He jokingly blamed his faulty controller and demanded Alistair share the newer one.  When he’d laughingly refused, Cullen lunged and tried to snag it from his hand, pinning him to the mattress in the process.
Cullen hovered over him, grinning and breathless, holding his wrists above his head.  That was when Alistair noticed how warm the room had become, how incredibly close Cullen was, the way his eyes sparkled and how many parts of him were intimately pressed against as many parts of himself.  It was the first time he felt the swooping, and an overwhelming desire be in that exact position but for very different reasons.  
At the time he’d foolishly wished something might come of it, hoping Cullen had felt it too.  But there had never been any indication that he thought of Alistair that way.  And then he figured out that Cullen was interested in Solona, and he began to wish his feelings for Cullen would stop.  Unfortunately, they haven’t.  If anything, they’re stronger now.  
Part of him wants to be honest and say something so Cullen will know how he feels.  Another part screams that it’s the worst idea he’s ever had.  Even worse than the time he ate all that cheese in one sitting and couldn’t go to the bathroom for weeks, and that was bad.  He resolves to stay quiet and study for his test, settling for stolen glances like he does every day.  So of course his mouth starts leaking words.  “Cullen?”
“Mmmm?”  Cullen doesn’t look up from his textbook.  They keep their voices low so the Librarian won’t come over and yell at them for disturbing others, although there are only a few students scattered around this floor.  
“Would you mind taking a look at my answer to this equation?  I’m not sure I’ve done it properly.”  Alistair feels the blush crawling up his neck as Cullen peers over the top of his textbook.  
“Those are the same problems we worked on last week.  You know how to do the math.  I’m sure your answer is correct.”  Cullen sounds so confident it makes Alistair grin.  Cullen has always believed in him.
“Well, it’s a little tricky, you see.  And I’m not sure I did this bit right.”  He points to a random part of the paper, not even bothering to look to see if his finger is anywhere near what he’s written. “Please?”  
Cullen rolls his eyes but gets up, walks around the table, and leans over him so he can see the page.  He’s almost close enough to feel the scrape of his stubble, and Alistair closes his eyes and breathes deeply, filling his lungs.  Cullen smells like elderflower and oakmoss and it’s intoxicating.  “You’ve done it correctly.  See?”  Alistair’s eyes fly open and he looks at Cullen guiltily.  “I knew you understood it.  Trust yourself, Alistair.  You’re smart.”  Cullen smiles and squeezes his shoulder.
Alistair tries to ignore the fluttering in his chest and the intimacy of Cullen’s touch.  “Thanks.”  It comes out a bit squeaky and he feels his blush deepen, but Cullen is already walking back to his seat.  Alistair bites his lip and almost wishes it were time for their next class, then immediately takes it back.  Their next class isn’t together and he’s not ready to part company.  “Cullen?”
“Yes Alistair?”  Cullen looks amused which gives him courage to continue.
“We’re friends.  Right?”  He feels immediately ridiculous.  Of course they’re friends.
Cullen looks confused but he’s still smiling.  “Yes.  We’ve been friends for years.”
Alistair nods.  “Right.  Good friends.”  He has no idea why he suddenly needs the reassurance, but he can’t help himself.
“We’re the best of friends, Alistair.  Why do you ask?”  Cullen is beginning to look serious and Alistair knows things are going to go downhill from here.  
His heart is hammering in his chest and he feels sweat beading at his hairline.  “Friends are good to have.  It’s good to know who your friends are!”  
“Alistair, is everything alright?”  Cullen sets his book aside, leans across the table, and places a hand on Alistair’s forearm.
Alistair”s gaze immediately snaps to Cullen’s hand and he fights the urge to cover it with his own.  He drags his eyes upward and gives what feels like a pathetic attempt at a smile.  “Perfectly alright.  Never better.”  Cullen is looking at him intently, eyes full of concern.  But he doesn’t say anything more, eventually sliding his book in front of him and opening it again.
“Cullen?”
“Yes?”  He has Cullen’s full attention and he can feel the worry radiating from him.
They’ve kept their voices low through the conversation, but Alistair becomes even quieter, voice barely carrying across the few feet between them.  “Do you think we’ll always be best friends?”  He says the words while looking at his paper.  He can’t bring himself to meet Cullen’s eyes.  
“Alistair, please tell me what this is about.”  The concern in Cullen’s voice forces Alistair’s gaze upward and suddenly he’s unable to look anywhere but into Cullen’s beautiful amber eyes.
“I wouldn’t ever want to not be best friends, you know.  Not ever.”  The thought is actually making him feel physically ill and he swallows to keep the nausea at bay.
“We’ll always be best friends, Alistair.  I promise you that.”  
Alistair can see that Cullen is truly worried now, and he feels horrible.  He smiles and waves his hand as if to dismiss the entire topic.  “Excellent.  Wonderful.  Best friends.”  Cullen looks down at his textbook and Alistair stares at his paper but the air between them is unsettled, charged in a way it wasn’t a few moments ago, and Alistair blames the stress for what happens next.  “Cullen?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to be your friend.”
“What?”
“No!  I mean, yes!  I want to be your friend!”  Alistair glances around quickly, suddenly aware of how loud he’s become.  He drops his voice to a soft murmur and tries to extricate himself from yet another mess his mouth has gotten him into.  “It’s just that…  You’re special to me.  And I…”  He watches several emotions cross Cullen’s face and he can’t figure out what they mean and he’s suddenly terrified to continue.  “Nevermind.”  He looks down at his paper and hunches his shoulders protectively, trying to block everything out, including the voice in his head screaming that he’s ruined everything.
Which is probably why he doesn’t notice when Cullen walks around the table and squats down next to him until Cullen’s hand is on his arm.  “Alistair.  What is this about?”  Alistair doesn’t say anything.  He can’t.  If he opens his mouth again everything is going to come pouring out and then their friendship will be over, and he can’t live with that.  Cullen’s fingers gently brush along his jaw, turning Alistair’s face towards him.  “Please, will you tell me what’s going on?”  
The worry on Cullen’s face is too much and he looks away as the anguished words quietly come gushing out.  “I don’t want to be just friends.  I’m sorry!  I know that’s not what you want.  I know you feel this way about Solona.  You’re always with her and watching her and laughing with her and what’s not to love?  She’s amazing!”  He wants to kick himself because of course he’s selling Cullen on someone else’s best qualities.  
It takes a few moments to register the gentle sweep of Cullen’s thumb along his cheek.  But he somehow does and he can hardly breathe. He hesitantly brings his gaze back to Cullen’s face and almost weeps with relief.  Cullen is smiling and looks a bit stunned.  “Al, I don’t feel that way about Solona.  I mean, yes, I used to have a crush on her, Freshman year, but not since…”  Cullen hesitates as though he was going to say something and changes his mind.  “A very long time.”  
“But she’s beautiful and smart.”
Cullen’s eyes soften and he seems to relax and become more sure of himself.  “You’re beautiful and smart, too.  And funny.  And we like almost all of the same things.”  Cullen’s hand slides into his hair and Alistair forgets how to breathe.  Then Cullen is leaning forward.  “Alistair?”
“Yes?”  His voice cracks and he thinks he might pass out because Cullen is so very close he can feel his breath on his lips.  
“I”m going to kiss you now...if that’s alright.”
Alistair’s brain won’t allow him to form words so he nods vigorously and tries to stifle the whimper that wants to escape.  Cullen’s lips press against his, soft and warm and Alistair’s whole body starts to tremble.  He tentatively puts a hand against Cullen’s chest to steady himself but that charges the moment even further.  Cullen grabs a fistfull of his hair and his mouth presses more firmly and it feels amazing.  Better than he’d even imagined, and he imagined it feeling pretty good.  Alistair whimpers and leans into Cullen, darting his tongue between their parted lips, moaning loudly, giving up any shred of control he might have had.  Cullen slows the motion of the kiss, sweeping his tongue languidly into Alistair’s mouth, taking command, sliding a hand around his waist and pulling him to the edge of his seat.  Alistair’s entire body is electrified.  Everything tingles and he wants more.
The heavy double doors at the far end of the room groan open and they jerk apart.  Alistair slides backward quickly as an elderly Librarian toddle into the room.  Cullen looks at Alistair’s paper and pretends to explain the equation, although the stunned look on his face and the kiss bruised lips are probably a good indication that studying hasn’t been happening.  Alistair silently prays that she’s too blind to see these details, sure he’s in a similarly disheveled state.
Cullen glances over; their eyes meet and Alistair knows he has an idiotic grin plastered to his face, but he doesn’t care.  The only thing he can think of is how much he wants to kiss Cullen again.   However, the Librarian has taken up residence just behind them at the reference desk so even talking is a challenge, though it doesn’t deter him.  “How long have you wanted to do that?”  He blushes but so does Cullen, and once again he makes Alistair feel completely normal.
“Far longer than I’d care to admit.  How about you?”  Cullen is practically glowing and Alistair swears he’s never seen anyone look so incredibly handsome.
He slides his hand along the table and covers Cullen’s.  “Two years last week.”
Cullen laughs out loud which earns them a disapproving glare from the Librarian and a few of the students.  “We’re both idiots.”
“It would seem so.”  Alistair glances at the Librarian then leans close and whispered in Cullen’s ear.  “Maybe we could continue studying in our room.”
At first Cullen looks stunned but his smile blossoms just before transforming into a full blow leer.  “We each have one more class.  But after.”
“I’m not going to be able to concentrate on class.”  Alistair smiles and squeezes Cullen’s hand.  “I can’t believe this is happening.  I’ve wanted to study with you in our room for so long.”
Cullen’s eyes get very dark and Alistair can feel them like an actual caress.  “We’re going to do so much studying, Alistair.  I promise you.  We’re going to study, and study and study, until we can’t physically study anymore.”  
Alistair whimpers softly and nods his agreement.  “I can’t wait to study with you.”
They both jump as a throat is cleared directly behind them.  The librarian is glaring in their direction and they apologize as they gather their books, randomly shoving them into their backpacks and hustling towards the large double doors.  
They speed down the stairs and out the front doors, and somewhere in the back of his mind Alistair starts to wonder if Cullen will have second thoughts now that the moment is passed.  As always, Cullen must know what he’s thinking.  Now that he thinks about it, Cullen has always known how to read him.  He reaches over and takes Alistair’s hand, lacing their fingers together.  “It’s only one class, Alistair.  We can do this.”  
Alistair grins at their hands and feels a little reassuring squeeze.  He smiles and returns the gesture, relief flooding through him.  “One class.   We’ve waited this long, I suppose we can wait another hour.  I’ll meet you in our room after?”
Cullen slows as the sidewalk splits, and they come to a stop.  Alistair needs to go to the right towards the business school and Cullen’s class is to the left in the history center, and he’s never wanted to skip class more than he does right now.  Cullen reluctantly looks towards his class before turning back and nodding determinedly.   “Yes.  And then no more waiting.”  
Cullen pulls him close so they’re pressed together from hip to chest and kisses him hungrily.  Alistair eagerly returns the kiss.aware of the other students moving past them like water around a boulder, though the longer Cullen is pressed against him the less he notices anyone else.  
They slowly struggle to bring the kiss to an end, leaning in for one more brush of their lips, and then another, and another.  Someone shouts at them to get a room and they both blush crimson, but nothing can dampen Alistair’s mood.  Not even some jerk who’s jealous because he isn’t the one kissing the most gorgeous guy on campus.  Alistair grins at Cullen and murmurs, “I believe that’s the plan.”
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acciopjm · 5 years
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AO3 Fics
Strike ~ read
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 ⇢ Bon Voyage ~ Yoongi was meant to be taking the trip of a lifetime with his boyfriend. But now he's in Paris, alone and miserable. That is, until he collides - quite literally - with one Park Jimin. ~ 47951
 ⇢ Gangsters Love Better ~ As the leader of a gang Yoongi is busy a lot; killing, stealing and smuggling is a lot of hard work to do after all. But there is still some room for a beloved pet, and who would suit better into this role than Jimin...? A deep whisper, so close to his ear, that Jimin couldn't hear anything else growled into his senses; "I don't need any protection baby-boy." ~ 61032 (22/22) (ft. Jikook, Namjin)
 ⇢ Only breathing ~ As a drug lord, Yoongi knows the rules: -you don't ask questions; -whatever the client wants, you sell it; -you don't do loans; -you don't fall in love with a customer's whore. Yoongi knows the rules. And because he knows them he also knows when he's about to break one. ~ 26461
 ⇢ I'm Glad You're My First (First for Everything) ~ Jimin wasn’t a prude, he just liked saving his firsts for everything for someone special. And, that special someone was Min Yoongi. ~ 12840 
 ⇢ Beauty in all forms ~ When Jimin hit an art block he really didn't expect a grumpy florist to be the answer to his problem. ~ flower shop, tattoo parlor, fluff, smut ~ 4738 
 ⇢ i'm outside the door (invite me in) ~ neighbour au where jimin is adorable and clueless and yoongi is grumpy with a kitten who is in love with jimin ~ neighbour!au ~ 4707 (👥)
 ⇢ Just Checking ~ Jimin and Yoongi just really, really love each other.(aka just yoongi and jimin being domestic and fluffy and cheesy) ~ nursery teacher!jimin, journalist!yoongi, fluff ~ 4933
 ⇢ light me up (i'll keep you warm) ~ He’s already taking a deep breath when he hears someone twisting the doorknob. “Jung Hoseok, I have a bone to pick with you, you absolute asshole,” he starts.It is not Jung Hoseok.Definitely not.Min Yoongi.Jimin coughs awkwardly into his fist. “Hello,” he finishes.(In which Jimin has a crush, yells a lot, and maybe falls into like.) ~ 13154
 ⇢ pretty (odd) ~ in which min yoongi is a librarian and he happens to fall deeply in love with park jimin, the regular who's in love with literature just a little too much. ~ College/University, Librarylibrarian!Yoongi, english major!jimin ~ 11813 (📚)
 ⇢ Under the Mistletoe ~ Thanks to Kim Taehyung and his big mouth, Jimin finds himself snowed in on Christmas for the very first time. The problem is: he’s at a cabin in the middle of nowhere with Min Yoongi.What could possibly go wrong? ~ 12057
 ⇢ I’m Here with You ~ When Jimin kisses Yoongi, he keeps it soft and mellow with pecks that go as soon as they arrive. All he can think about is how much he loves Jimin, and these days, it’s really the only thing on his mind anymore. He’s made a home out of Jimin, and he lives there everyday without ever wanting to leave.Or, Yoongi and Jimin place their forevers in each other with sweet kisses, soft embraces, and whispered promises. ~ 13196 (💚)
 ⇢ Give it to me slow (then wash away) ~ Jimin has worked in the Blood Brothel for a long time, he's had his fair share of clients, knows how to do his job and what to expect from his customers. That's why it is to him a shock when he gets a boner from being bitten by one of their new clients, Yoongi. ~ vampire au ~ 33331 (💉)
 ⇢ Boyfriend Tag ~ “Normally I post dance routines and the occasional tag or challenge video and I know I haven’t posted in a while so I am here to make it up to you all. Yoongi lost a bet sooooo we are here with the highly requested, boyfriend tag!!” Jimin yelled making Yoongi wince and lean away from him. “Are you ready?” Jimin asked bringing his attention to Yoongi. “You better not get a thing wrong,” He warned pointing a finger at Yoongi. ~ 51598 (15/15) (💚) ⁂
 ⇢ Cotton Candy  ~ "He could get used to sitting next to Yoongi like this. To have him around. To have the band around. To smile and feel happy. To see Yoongi sitting in front of an instrument and having him play just for him.'If this was my happy ending,' Jimin thinks, resisting the urge to lean his head on Yoongi's shoulder, 'if I wasn't who I am, I'd just let you have me whenever you want. You could have me anytime.'"As spring turns into summer, school band Cotton Candy unexpectedly loses its singer and the members are forced to look for a new vocalist. Six boys find one in the form of the promiscuous pink haired boy Park Jimin who makes a home in their hearts and finally finds a place he belongs. ~ 239518 (25/25)
 ⇢ Craigslist Date ~ Min Yoongi's family are judgmental and unsupportive of his lifestyle and his mother won't stop nagging him about how he's still single. When he finds Park Jimin on Craigslist offering to pose as someone's fake date to mess with their family, Yoongi can't help himself. What starts as a prank on Yoongi's family turns into something more when the two of them quickly develop feelings for each other. Will Yoongi, who doesn't know how to handle feelings, let his chance at love slip away, or will he go after the silver-haired boy and hold onto him forever? ~ 48845 (13/13) (💧)
 ⇢ Weight of Playing with Fire ~ "He's walking this way, grab my ass!""But mine's coming this way too, grab my hand!"Or the one where Yoongi and Jimin fake-date to make their unrequited love(s) jealous. ~ 48862 (35/35) (💧)
⇢ Bite Me, Scratch Me, Lick Me Better ~ Jimin yawns, smiling at the feeling of warm sun against his face. He had a pleasant dream. He thinks. He remembers the feelings it gave him, but can't recall a single thing about it. He sighs, and unconsciously pets the cat on his lap, only to freeze because when he opens his eyes he's not petting a cat-- he's petting Yoongi. ~ 68926 (26/26)
⇢ What's Up, Buttercup ~ Jimin meets Yoongi, the grumpy buttercup fairy, and proceeds to worm his way into his heart. ~ 14305 (4/4)
⇢ Impractical Magic ~ Jimin needs to shadow a real witch for his creative writing assignment. Min Yoongi is just about the worst witch he's ever met. ~ 16801 (3/3)
⇢ The Devil's Mistress ~ Yoongi is Captain of the pirate ship, the Devil's Mistress, and he and his crew are racing against time to find a famous buried treasure, always one step behind and losing it to another rival ship. To gain the upper hand, Yoongi kidnaps a silver-haired beauty who is rumored to be a creature of great power. He isn't expecting to fall in love on the way. ~ 16473
⇢ Paper Chase ~ Jimin thought that joining a fraternity would be all parties and fun. He hadn’t anticipated falling for his cute roommate, Yoongi. ~ 15089 (3/3)
⇢ Sexy Mochi ~ Yoongi’s never really understood why it’s a stereotypical thing for alphas to have some obsession with omega’s necks. He’d always thought that was kind of weird and just some macho ‘make your mate submit by biting their throat’ thing until he’s alone in the kitchen with Park Jimin and his damn shirt falls down his damn shoulder. ~ 8281
⇢ Barbershop Romance ~ Jimin's impromptu visit to a salon called SUGA turns out to be more interesting than he expected. Way more interesting. ~ 13164
⇢ Barbershop Love ~ Jimin has never taken his best friend’s jokes about his alleged praise kink seriously, because that’s all they are and ever will be. Jokes. They’re stupid jokes that Taehyung makes at his expense to see the shy Jimin turn into a blushing, embarrassed mess of stuttering protests and meek curses. They’re only jokes, and they’re so stupid.Or at least Jimin has always thought so, but then his hairdresser boyfriend asks him to pose as a model for his winter collection, and Jimin realises that there might the teeniest, tiniest bit of truth to Taehyung’s persistent teasing. ~ 22153
⇢ Coffee and Honey ~ "-Hyung...- Hoseok sighs -You are as intimidating as a pink marshmallow. -That's the fucking point! -Yoongi literally bangs his head on the table -He IS a pink marshmallow."In which Yoongi has insomnia, cannot for the love of God socialize, and Jimin is the way too cheerful and, oh, so downright gorgeus barista who works in a nocturnal coffe shop. ~ 7290
⇢ 7 Minutes in Heaven ~ “It’s a fusion game. The person who spins the bottle gets to ask the person it landed on truth or dare, and if that person doesn’t want to answer or do the dare then they either take a shot or take off an article of clothing,” Jin says like he’s proud of improvising such a fantastic game. “I’m not playing that,” Yoongi says. “Hyung, don’t be a party pooper, are you scared we’ll learn your secrets?” Hoseok asks and Namjoon ah’s dramatically. Yoongi shakes his head and puts his tongue in his cheek before he smiles at their antics, pushing Namjoon over closer to Jin so that he can sit down. “Please, hyung, it sounds like fun!” Jungkook says. “It’s my birthday.” ~ 8487
⇢ Winter Blues ~ Yoongi is turned into a cat by a sorceress, and novice witch Jimin finds him and takes him home. ~ 14685 (3/3)
⇢ Gotta Be Fate (if We're Under the Covers) ~ Jimin is excited to just sleep for a day and maybe catch up on some tv shows at the hotel.That is, until they get to the new hotel they’re staying at, and he gets handed a room key that’s the same as Yoongi’s. Meaning, he and Yoongi will share a room and worse, he and Yoongi will have to share a bed.“Why do I have to share with Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin complains. He’s managed to avoid it this whole trip which is really in his best interest if he wants to keep his raging heart boner for him hidden. ~ 7895
⇢ Warm Mr. Wolfie ~ Jimin's late aunt left him a cabin last year, and he still hasn't been by so he takes time off to spend the holiday season there. Little does he know he'll meet a wolf on his hike behind the cabin, a wolf that will change form in front of him and claim to be his mate. ~ 7973
⇢ oil, lube, service ~ "Unless you know what a ‘rear oil change’ is? I mean, what the hell are they going to oil, my tires?” Jimin laughs at the ridiculousness. “Oh, I don’t know, but that sounds kind of kinky, 'changing your rear oil.' It sounds like the mechanic is preparing you for buttsex.”“Tae!” Jimin complains.AKA The mechanic AU where Park Jimin thinks Min Yoongi is overcharging him for car maintenance, but he's really not, cue Yoonmin falling in love. ~ 53313 (10/10)
⇢ soundtracks ~ What Yoongi doesn’t say is this: "If only you knew, Park Jimin. Every song I write, and all the words I have to give, will always be yours."(Or, Yoongi is a famous underground rapper from simple beginnings and Jimin is his hip-hop hating, exceedingly rich boyfriend). ~ 38877
⇢ Aeonian ~ In the year 1304 A.D., tensions between the Vampires and the Lycans are at an all time high. Min Yoongi is the Captain of the Death Dealers and the most elite of the Vampires' protectors. Over the long years of his life, Yoongi has grown unemotional and apathetic, no longer interested in feeling emotions. When the human nobles come to visit, Yoongi meets Park Jimin, the youngest son of a baron, and his whole life changes. Suddenly Jimin is the most important thing in his world, and Yoongi will do anything to protect him. ~ 54422 (3/3)
 ⇢ The Songbird and the Sea ~ In a world where dominance of the sea is an endless battle between pirates and mariners, Park Jimin is content living in his little village on a small, uninteresting island by the eastern mainland. He wants nothing to do with the bloodshed of good and evil, the heartless killing of both innocents and condemned, the constant establishment and disruption of order. What he wants is peace, to live his life in the same town he was born in, to spend his days in the beautiful forest, and to use the powers of his Blessed Rune to nurture the home he loves so dearly.But when his island is attacked by pirates, Jimin will have no other choice than to do as they command and leave all thoughts of peace behind in favor of boarding the Agust, a pirate ship captained by the infamous Min Yoongi, Black Fox of the East. ~ pirate!au, slow burn, enemies to lovers!au ~ 255878 (34/34)
 ⇢ Look My Way ~ It all started when Yoongi read his own name and the word 'cute' written in the same sentence on the wall of the boys' bathroom.But he kind of liked the way his name looked in the stranger's handwriting. ~ high school!au, fluff, crack ~ 5362
 ⇢ love is not a coincidence (it's fate) ~ Thirteen years into their friendship, and Yoongi finally realises that he's in love with his best friend. ~ high school!au, fluff ~ 10,694
 ⇢ thrill me, chill me, fulfil me ~ Yoongi is actually doing pretty well, thanks.Or he is until Jimin tosses himself in Jungkook's lap and breathes out toucha-toucha-touch me into the microphone pinned to his shirt front, looking right into the audio booth, and then Yoongi has to swallow and try not to cry out of sheer sexual frustration. Or, Jimin plays the lead in Rocky Horror, and Yoongi suffers. ~ college!au, musical theatre!au ~ 7465
 ⇢ maybe i hate you can be our always ~ When Yoongi thinks about it, really gives it genuine thought, it's possible that Park Jimin isn't the worst person in the world. (Or, Yoongi and Jimin get off on the wrong foot.) ~ enemies to lovers!au, college!au, slow burn ~ 35,919
 ⇢ Lil' Meow Meow ~ Jimin nods his head, biting his lip to prevent the giddy smile from showing on his face. With careful movements, he pockets the paper like a fragile piece of treasure, and he glances up at Yoongi through his eyelashes with a shy smile. “T-thank you, the flowers are really pretty.”Yoongi visibly preens at the compliment, chest puffing out subtly. “Anything for the pretty baby boy.”or: Jimin meets Yoongi, a straightforward and confident alpha cat hybrid, and proceeds to fall in love. ~ hybrid!au, college!au ~ 25,320
 ⇢ Pepsi Cola ~ “OK, fine, I’ll tell you one thing,” Jimin sighed as he shifted on the seat, his shoulder rubbing against the underside of his chin. “We’re going to a place that just opened this weekend, a really fun place.”“Fun place?” Yoongi repeated before making a noise under his breath. “A fun place in Seoul? Is that even real?”“Uhuh, we’re going to that new ‘roller skating rink’ that opened in Gangnam-gu,” the younger man explained, dropping the English words out of nowhere and surprising him. “You heard about it, right?”“‘Rollo…su…ting’?” he said, slurring the English words rather heavily and struggling with the last part of the funny word.“Yoongi, you do know what roller skating is; don’t you?” Jimin asked, his expression showing that he was trying his hardest to not laugh at him. “Surely you know what it is?”A.K.A. that oneshot in which Jimin's kisses taste like Pepsi, Yoongi can't pronounce the word 'disco' and everything is soft™ ~ fluff ~ 26,669 (1)
 ⇢ Queens ~ “Yoongi doesn’t know what bowling is,” Jimin said out of the corner of his mouth, that smirk reappearing on his face again.“Hey, I know what balling is!” Yoongi argued indignantly, turning to give him a faüx glare. When his friend raised his eyebrows, imploring him to explain, he quickly added. “It involves a ball, so, there.”A.K.A. that oneshot in which Jimin has to explain what bowling and pizza is, Yoongi keeps getting gutter balls and everything is still soft™ ~ fluff ~ 33,123 (2)
 ⇢ Hang On, Baby! ~ “OK, first, I need to tell you this. I thought about this date all week long, OK? I mean, all week long and that’s not a joke, Jiminie.”“Hmm, Yoongi,” Jimin said around his slushie straw, his lips lifting up into a smile. “That’s cute.”“Huh?” Yoongi hummed, lifting his eyebrows as he did. But his boyfriend just carried on sipping at his drink, which meant that he should continue explaining. So, he shifted on the wall and tried to think of the right words to say. “Well, you put a lot of thought into the first two dates, so, that meant that I needed to do something special too. But, I ain’t in Gangnam-gu, and it’s hard to find out about all of these new cool places to visit, yeah? And Seodaemun-gu is pretty much dead of an evening, which meant that I really had to think to find the right place. That’s when it hit me.”“What hit you, Yoongi?”“Something special, somewhere special, there’s only one place in this district like that,” he stated, before quickly adding. “The arcade, Jiminie: Electrozone.”A.K.A. that oneshot in which Yoongi is highly competitive whilst playing Galaga, Jimin bets kisses, and everything is soft like always™ ~ fluff ~ 32,333 (3)
 ⇢ So Kiss Me ~ Min Yoongi is stressed out. Park Jimin is stressed out. They're all stressed out.A.K.A. - the College!AU that nobody asked for. ~ college!au ~ 52,246 (1) 
 ⇢ Make A Move (Before I Make A Move) ~ Yoongi thought that taking Jimin down into Gyeonggi-do for spring break was a great idea. Jimin thought talking Yoongi into staying in a love motel for the night was a great idea.A.K.A. - the Road Trip!AU that nobody asked for. ~ college!au, road trip!au ~ 49,372
 ⇢ i'll be a gentleman ('cause i'll be your boyfriend) ~ Yoongi isn’t an easy man to surprise, but kisses out of the blue and sudden boyfriend proposals can do the job. ~ college!au, fake dating!au, fluff, smut ~ 21,020
𝕐𝕆𝕆ℕ𝕂𝕆𝕆𝕂
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 ⇢ my youth is yours ~ “What did you say your name was?” says Yoongi, after an eternity of awkward silence.“Jeongguk,” says Jeongguk. “Um. My name is Jeon Jeongguk. I’m a freshman.”“Oh,” says Yoongi. “Fucking hell.”(In which Jeon Jeongguk goes to college, makes some friends, and learns he’s got a lot of growing to do.) ~ 24957
 ⇢ The Art of Lost Stars ~ "You were supposed to come five hours ago."Jungkook sighed, handing Yoongi a couple bills. "I know, time got away from me.""Away from you, my ass. You're lucky I didn't walk out on the kid.""I'm sorry, thank you."Yoongi scoffed, looking through the money. "Your kid is upstairs asleep," he pocketed the money. "She kept asking where he dad was."Jungkook licked his lips, wiping his palms on his pants. He never knew why he got so nervous around Yoongi.Maybe it was the tattoos spread all over his arms, the piercings on his lip and eyebrow, or the fact that Jungkook had the biggest boner in the world. ~ 53557 (24/24)
 ⇢ Cerulean and Malachite ~ Ever since Jungkook could listen, he’d been watching. Watching the streets, the crowds, watching the people pour on and off the trains. Jungkook had watched for the flash of color that was said to indicate the instant when one found their Soulmate. Under normal circumstances, in everyday life, an aura would be invisible to the eye; but when two Soulmates found each other, it was said that they would see the color of each others’ auras. Jungkook spent his entire life with his eyes wide open, searching around him, waiting; watching and waiting. Jungkook became impressively good at observation. ~ soulmate, pianist!yoongi, college au ~ 16144
 ⇢ Sneeze once; I hate you. Sneeze twice; we're doomed ~ Jeon Jeongguk used to imagine himself being brave and confident in front of his soulmate. It wasn't until he realised that his soulmate is a gorgeous (and serious-looking) man dressed in all-black that he started to doubt the whole soulmate thing altogether.-Soulmate AU in which you sneeze at the same time as your soulmate. No exceptions. You have a flu? Your soulmate sneezes it all out with you. Your nose itches? Your soulmate finds out through experience. ~ soulmate au, college au ~ 13528 
 ⇢ Love and Basketball ~ Jungkook and Yoongi are the star players on their high school basketball teams. They also cannot stand each other.What if one night changes that all? ~ basketball!au, high school!au, enemies to lovers!au ~ 44,197 (16/16)
 ⇢ By Your Side ~ Yoongi and Jungkook deal with the hardships of a long distance relationship. ~ basketball!au, college!au, high school!au, angst, long distance!au, fluff (sequel to above) ~ 34,388 (12/12)
 ⇢ take me out (we're going down) ~ There are a lot of things that Jungkook expected from his junior year of college. General stress. Student debt.He did not expect to be hit by a car.It’s going well. ~ fluff, humour, college!au ~ 20,202
 ⇢ these hallowed halls ~ “Bowtruckles,” Yoongi announces with grandeur, “Can suck my dick.”The Hufflepuff table is next to the Slytherins; Hoseok looks over and winks, along with Jimin’s second-year friend (Taesung? Taehyung?) but a group of girls giggle, and one of the Hufflepuff prefects rolls his eyes, piecrust stuck to his chin.“Just because the bowtruckles can suck your dick doesn’t mean they will,” says Gerry. “Bowtruckles have caused me so much emotional damage in the last hour that they should suck my dick just to make up for it.”Or, Yoongi goes to Hogwarts, and meets Jeongguk, and grows up. ~ hogwarts!au, friends to lovers!au, slow burn ~ 70,601
 ⇢ with a bang (stunted plants can bloom) ~ namjoon [1:12] so you met jimin and taes roommate last night yoongi [1:15] …...yeah namjoon [1:15] met him real good yoongi [1:16] oh my god 
or what not to do when you find yourself falling for the guy you almost slept with but then didn’t because he turned out to be your friends’ roommate: a guide by min yoongi ~ college!au, humour, fluff ~ 24,450
 ⇢ hey, i like you a lot (not clickbait) ~ “why does yoongi-hyung hate me,” jungkook mumbles. “we’re still on that?” jimin raises his eyebrows. “he doesn’t hate you. he just doesn’t like being in front of a camera.” (jungkook is the only one yoongi won't film with and it just really bothers jungkook for some reason.) ~ office!au, humour, fluff, friends to lovers ~ 5873
 ⇢ You Stir up a McFlurry in My Heart ~ Jungkook is completely and utterly screwed the moment he develops a crush on the voice behind the McDonald’s Drive Thru speaker. ~ food service!au ~ 7985
 ⇢ 그 손을 내밀어줘, Save Me ~ That’s when Min Yoongi, self-declared ‘simple man’, turned the corner onto his street, mid-yawn, his breath escaping with a small squeak he’d never admit he made, when he collided into another body, and his ‘simple man’ life was thrown into chaos.In which Jungkook is angry, nearly a high school drop out, and alone, and Yoongi is an adult who is struggling, and somehow, they find someone to save them in each other. ~ angst, fluff, slow burn ~ 54,113 (15/15)
 ⇢ The Best of Me, 나 너밖에 없지 ~ Three weeks. It had been three weeks since the performance, two weeks since he and Jungkook had that silly little Romeo and Juliet talk. Silly and dumb, maybe, but the thought still made Yoongi smile, even in his groggy, half-asleep state. Nothing had really changed, per say, nothing except for the kissing. God, the kissing… Jungkook kissed, for all his inexperience, like he was trying to make up for lost time.Jungkook was still a little shit, Yoongi still indulged him. Days were long, nights were longer, and Yoongi loved Jungkook with more ardor than he’d ever thought possible. It was a pity he didn't seem to be what Jungkook needed. ~ fluff, angst, college!au, slow burn (sequel to above) ~ 65,937 (12/12)
 ⇢ The Sound of Winter ~ Yoongi has a lot on his plate, but when his pack discovers a small pup in their territory, he finds that he's about to have a lot more. ~ werewolf!au, angst, slow burn ~ 39,583 (5/5)
 ⇢ I know I'll fall in love with you, baby ~ The soulmate/soulbond au where Yoongi is part of a famous rap duo and Jungkook is his diligent fanboy, they meet at a fansign and things escalate from there (alt. Yoongi didn’t sign up for this) ~ soulmate!au, rapper!yg, fanboy!jk, fluff, angst ~ 31,461 (5/5)
 ⇢ ride out the storm with you ~ babysitting a field operative who probably has the shittiest measure of danger is definitely not a part of yoongi's job description. but that's what he still ends up doing half the time, anyway. ~ secret agent!au, slow burn ~ 26,528
 ⇢ watercolor ~ It’s a man, he realizes, his hair a muted shade of mint, like the pebbles that rest at the bottom of the water fountain outside of Taehyung’s dorm. He’s not the tallest, but people seem to give him space, so he’s easy to observe, despite his black on black outfit, a t-shirt tucked into tight denim. ~ tattoo!au ~ 18,655
𝕋𝔸𝔼𝔾𝕀
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 ⇢ lost + found ~ Yoongi adopts a stray puppy that broke into his apartment in the middle of the night. Probably the best/worst decision of his life. ~ 406218 (61/61)
 ⇢ I Write Songs About Your Stupid Anecdotes ~ Taehyung keeps singing Spanish songs while Yoongi is trying to tutor his students. Jimin keeps "forgetting" his keys at Jungkook's apartment. Namjoon won't forgive Seokjin and Hoseok is the glue of all these six idiots.Or the 'listen i know we've been best friends for years but i'm trying to tell you that i'm in love with you so will you fucking stop singing spanish songs' au that no one asked for. ~ 30744 (20/20)
 ⇢ Settle Down and Let Me Know If You'll Stay ~ "I can grant you three, no wait it's four. Four wishes! Just say the word!""What?"Or the one where Taehyung is a genie who found himself in the company of a drunk with a wicked personality and can't help but want to make him happy. ~ 49658 (34/34)
 ⇢ The Nearness of You ~ Taehyung is a black cat hybrid in a magical world that detests his kind. When Yoongi, a student studying the Magical Arts, performs a spell to summon a witch's familiar, he unknowingly grants Taehyung the opportunity for freedom and love he's long been denied. ~ 10107 (2/2)
 ⇢ Will You B Minor? ~ “Hey baby, my brass isn’t the only thing that’s upright.”“Goddamnit, Kim Taehyung.”In which Taehyung is full of useless music-related pickup lines and Yoongi is too confused, too awkward, and too smitten with a certain Saxophonist. (A story with one too many midnight serenades, Americano’s, hungover misunderstandings, exploding washing machines, and that one little snore Yoongi does in his sleep that makes Taehyung want to catapult himself into space for No Apparent Reason.) ~ bffs!taekook, fluff, brass!au ~ 19,364 (2/2)
 ⇢ feelings you provide ~ Feeling a little daring, Taehyung slips the ring on his finger. He’s not expecting it to fit, he knows that part of the victorious appeal of this jewellery is it was designed to fit only Yoongi, but instead it slips over the knuckle of his ring finger like a glove. taehyung borrows one of the SUGA diamond rings when he needs a comfort object ~ canon verse!au ~ 3157
 ⇢ you’re my golden hour ~ Yoongi is taking a photography class because it's a required elective. Kim Taehyung is: 1. the best photographer in the class, and 2. The Most Beautiful Person In The Entire World. ~ college!au ~ 4259
 ⇢ disappearing act done poorly ~ Taehyung goes through a break-up and decides to 'cope' with his feelings by going to the cinema each night to watch the same film; Yoongi is a tired cinema employee but somehow manages to put up with Taehyung. ~ college!au ~ 13,574 (2/2) 
𝕍𝕄𝕀ℕ
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 ⇢ At 4 O'clock, I'll Stay ~ “I hate him so much, Yoongi, I'm thinking of saying he has rats in his stupid bar just to get rid of him!" "Well, what did he do?" "He said that I was the best soccer player and shouldn't talk shit about myself!"Or the one where Taehyung goes to Jimin's bar to talk bad about his latest soccer matches and Jimin waters down his drinks by "accident." ~ 35897 (22/22)
 ⇢ summer, winter, spring (i'm falling for you) ~ The school starts to take notice of Jimin.Taehyung has always noticed. ~ friends to lovers!au, high school!au, fluff, slow burn ~ 41,786 (4/4)
 ⇢ it's your heart i wanna live (& sleep) in ~ The first time Jimin sleeps over at Taehyung's, it's an emergency. The other times after? That's a different story. ~ college!au, fluff, crack ~ 22,658 
 ⇢ true love's kiss ~ "Taehyung needs kisses!" Jungkook yells. Everyone in the Great Hall turns to look at them. Taehyung is suddenly glad he's fallen off his chair, because hiding under the table has never been more convenient. "He needs True Love's Kiss to lift his curse! Or he'll turn into a Squib!""Merlin," Taehyung whimpers, clutching Jimin's leg. "Merlin help me." (in which taehyung accidentally drinks a potion that looks like pumpkin juice, loses his magic and finds true love in his bestest best friend.or: in which jimin lifts a curse, falls in love with his bestest best friend and makes some bad, followed by some really good, decisions.) ~ hogwarts!au, friends to lovers!au ~ 19,711 (6/6)
 ⇢ Wanna Hear Your Body Talk ~ “What?” he asks, slowly, giving Taehyung a chance to change his mind about what he’s offering.Taehyung doesn’t take it. He probably doesn’t even notice it, because he’s a do first, think later type of person when it comes to his brilliant stoned ideas and Jimin should know better, should stop him, but… well. He doesn’t dare name it even in his own mind but if Taehyung is proposing what he thinks he is, stopping him is the very last thing Jimin wants.“Let’s make out,” Taehyung says, putting the bowl away, sounding ceremonious and completely, absolutely serious. “Prove me wrong.” (Taehyung doesn't believe making out is better than sex, so Jimin takes it upon himself to convince him) ~ college!au ~ 4826
 ⇢ Common Ground ~ Taehyung is rich, a little bit bratty, a lot a bit spoiled, and failing calculus. Jimin works full time, tutors, and is a straight-A student. There's a rulebook somewhere that states very clearly that people like Jimin should never associate with people like Taehyung. But rules are meant to be broken. And opposites always, always attract. ~ college!au, enemies to lovers!au ~ 44,136 (2/2)
 ⇢ Until my last breath ~ "I see colours everytime you speak"- Jimin said in a small murmur, as he hid his face in the curvature of Taehyung's neck - "The most beautiful colours I've ever seen" - he continued, not wanting to look Taehyung in the eyes. His small, delicate hands traveled along his back, carefully feeling the warm mesh that covered his skin."and when you touch me ... when you touch me, I hear the most beautiful melodies." Jimin brushed his nose into Taehyung's warm skin, causing a heavy shiver to run through his body."And what do those melodies sound like?" "It sounds... it sounds like peace"  (Or Jimin finds himself in a situation he has never expected to be in, with the last person he would ever want to). ~ fluff, angst ~ 78,226 (15/15)
 ⇢ to whom it may concern ~ Taehyung believes in soulmates. He believes in soulmates to the moon and back, with the sort of fervor reserved for children and lunatics.Jimin believes in soulmates. He’s just not sure he wants his. ~ fluff, friends to lovers!au ~ 16,351
 ⇢ stay (until your dream holds mine) ~ "It wasn't love at first sight." ~ hybrid!au ~ 5115
 ⇢ now you're lost (lost in the heat of it all) ~ It’s not that Jimin was scared of dog hybrids. He just really really didn’t like them because how could he? Dog hybrids were gross.Kim Taehyung was tall, slim, had gentle but defined features, the most perfect eyebrows Jimin had ever seen and a playful glint in his eyes. But most importantly - he was a dog hybrid. ~ hybrid!au ~ 14,477
 ⇢ various stages of undress ~ in which taehyung has a crush, jimin takes his clothes off, and yoongi must be persuaded. ~ stripper!au ~ 14,820
𝕁𝕀𝕂𝕆𝕆𝕂
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 ⇢ Days Are Numbered So Move On ~ Jimin is a spy. Jungkook is training to be one. Hoseok trains the agents to have agility. Seokjin just wants to be Employee of the Month. Namjoon is the leader nobody asked for. Taehyung loves the kids books. And Yoongi is in the wrong occupation.Or the one where Jimin is stuck training the new spies because of his last mission and Jungkook insists on being a nuisance to Jimin. ~ enemies to lovers ~ 34591 (28/28)
 ⇢ It's Still Beautiful How You See the World ~ "Wait, you promised him that if he graduates from high school, you'd date him?"Or the one where Jungkook confesses to Jimin in middle school. Jimin thinks Jungkook is too young to know what "love" is so he promises to date Jungkook after he graduates from high school and starts college. Now that Jungkook has graduated from high school, Jimin starts to back out of their promise. ~ 45550 (32/32)
 ⇢ I Shouldn't Be In Love With You ~ Star soccer player Jeon Jungkook has not spoken once to math nerd Jimin all year. That wouldn't be so strange if not for the fact they used to be best friends. ~ 10409
 ⇢ Home ~ Taking in what he assumed was a stray hybrid dog, Jungkook takes care of Jimin. The cute hybrid has brightened Jungkook's dreary days and warmed his lonely nights and Jungkook learns that he cares a lot for the elder. And Jimin finds that he cares for the younger just as much.The small apartment doesn't feel as empty anymore, now that Jungkook had Jimin to call his home. ~ 26412 (15/15) 
 ⇢ More Than Your Body ~ Jungkook got an assignment to create a documentary about something he can get involved in and in the beginning, he had no idea what to do. However, when he sees Jimin dance, he knows what he wants.Or in which Jungkook is a film student and may or may not be a little obsessed with the silver-haired man he keeps seeing on his way to university. ~ 48670 (5/5) 
 ⇢ All of you, all of me ~ Jungkook felt secure and protected with Jimin, like he could let himself get loose and open up to him without being judged. ~ 11621
 ⇢ The Jeon Family ~ Jungkook is the heir to Korea's biggest mafia group, and Jimin is an innocent employee that catches his eye. ~ 30499 (3/3)
 ⇢ In the Line of Fire ~ For some reason, Jimin was everyone's favorite target. ~ 1212
 ⇢ doubt thou the stars are fire ~ Jeon Jeongguk's got a Reputation™. Park Jimin learns how to not give a shit about it. ~ 3451
 ⇢ my heart is beating (like a jungle drum) ~ "He thinks you're a bully?" "You? Bullying? You're too anti-social to do that." "I know!" Jungkook bemoans. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to him. Jimin thinks Jungkook is bullying him when all he wanted was to give him a cupcake. To apologise. To see him again because he's cute. OR the one with a lot of misunderstandings ~ 3228 
 ⇢ your body is a place to stay ~ In which Jungkook juggles a five-year-old daughter, Jimin the pretty bookstore employee, and coworkers who like to tease him too much. ~ single dad!au, tattoo parlour!au, cafe!au , fluff ~ 8783
 ⇢ who would have thought i'd get you? ~ in which jimin comes over for dinner, and jungkook and seoyeon try to impress. (follow-up to your body is a place to stay) ~ single dad!au, fluff ~ 2527 (sequel to above)
 ⇢ Blow Me Like Your French Horn ~ In which Jimin undergoes a transformation from Cinnamon Roll to Sinnamon Roll and Jeongguk is a little too competitive, a little too tsundere, and a little bit too moony-eyed for his own good.(A tale of red converses, sandpit wrestling, shitty best friends a little too obsessed with playing Cupid, emotional constipation, existential crises, and that one body roll Jimin does that makes Jeongguk re-evaluate his life)“i see that you adore playing your loud ass trumpet at random moments in the middle of the night, well fyi i happen to be a master at the French horn so fuck u i challenge you to a brass off” AU ~ slow burn, friends to lovers!au, fluff ~ 40,219 (8/8)
 ⇢ expensive lips ~ Jungkook goes to Sephora on a mission to get some lipstick. He leaves completely enamored with an employee named jimin. ~ fluff, smut, strangers to lovers!au ~ 12,385
 ⇢ the eyes are the window to the soul (and to the heart) ~ In which Jungkook’s eye colour changes according to his mood, but when Jimin wants to know what the colour ‘pink’ means, Jungkook hesitates. Jungkook doesn’t want to tell him that his eyes turn pink whenever he’s around Jimin because it means love. ~ college!au, fluff, humour ~ 7789
 ⇢ You Broke My Heart (but I broke it myself) ~ Jimin's fiancé has abandoned him on his wedding day, and Jeon Jungkook, Jimin's first love and worst heartbreak, is back. ~ high school!au, angst ~ 19,660 (3/3)
 ⇢ we're not broken just bent ~ “You’ll die,” Jimin hisses and they’re so close now that his perfect illusion is broken. Jungkook can see his dark circles, can see Jimin’s lips, red and raw from biting. “I did almost die in this house once, five years ago,” he whispers, watching as Jimin clenches his jaw but doesn't look away. “I think I can handle more. I’m bigger and stronger now, see?” Jimin holds his gaze for two seconds before it tracks south to move down Jungkook’s body. ~ hogwarts!au, enemies to lovers!au ~ 16,204
𝕋𝔸𝔼𝕂𝕆𝕆𝕂
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 ⇢ Frooty Loopy ~ "We both reached for the last box of Froot Loops and I don't care that we're both adults I will fight you" AUaka: in which Taehyung fights Jungkook to the death for a box of artificially flavored and colored loops. ~ 30939
 ⇢ Hickory ~ Jungkook should be focused on winning, but his mind's stuck on wondering whether or not this Kim Taehyung guy fucks harder than he hits. ~ 48347
 ⇢ maybe we’re all just fools ~ Jeongguk likes to run. He’s never wanted anyone to run with him before. ~ 52675
 ⇢ change my world (you're the sunlight in my universe) ~ Jungkook is an artist who likes drawing on the cafe's freedom wall. Taehyung sees his drawings, and falls in love.Featuring Jimin as the 100% done wingman, Yoongi as the possessive boyfriend, and Seokjin as the sassy mom. ~ cafe!au, college!au, fluff ~ 6757
ℕ𝔸𝕄𝕁𝕀ℕ
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 ⇢ a sugar coated pill and a pick me up ~ As Namjoon stood slightly removed from the scene, bemusedly watching the six-year-olds swarm around his cooler (which he had borrowed from his mom), he didn’t even notice that someone had sidled up next to him until he heard the tiny, but undoubtedly exasperated, huff.He followed the sound, turning his head to the right. A guy was standing there, arms crossed, lips pursed. He let out another huff, louder this time, but only slightly.Namjoon refused to acknowledge him. What the fuck was this guy’s deal? Was he really that bitter that his six-year-old just lost a soccer game for six-year-olds?One more huff from the guy.He was beginning to think this guy’s lips were just perpetually pursed and would simply never, ever unpurse themselves, when he, the guy, finally unpursed his lips to speak.“I just think it’s pretty irresponsible to bring Gatorade to a soccer game for first graders,” he said, huffily, “No offense.”(or: namjin are soccer dads who fall in luv) ~ 25023 (2/2)
 ⇢ It's Gonna Get You In Trouble ~ Kim Namjoon knows he's not the most handsome guy out there. It's just guys talking shit about each other, Jin Hyosang is an asshole, and anything that escapes his mouth is complete bullshit. But it's true though. He's awkward, clumsy, and a complete nerd; no one, not even the most desperate person in the world, will notice him.Kim Seokjin is having none of that. ~ high shcool!au, fluff, humour ~ 6107
𝕊𝕆ℙ𝔼
 ⇢ play the game ~ Yoongi and Hoseok get paired together for a class project. ~ smut, enemies to lovers!au, high school!au ~ 5148
 ⇢ Decorate Me Prettily ~ Yoongi blankly stares at his left wrist. Another batch of parallel lines decorating his very pale complexion. Another batch of parallel lines over parallel scars. Another batch of parallel lines revealing how his soulmate is feeling as of the moment.or (soulmate au where whatever written/marks you have in your body your soulmate has it too) ~ soulmate!au, self harm ~ 3259
 ⇢ The Philosophy of Special Relativity ~ Hoseok’s tongue is cold as it licks into Yoongi’s mouth, and his lips are slightly sticky, but Yoongi can’t help the way his tongue automatically brushes over Hoseok’s, the way a low moan claws it’s way up his throat. He can taste the sweet, slightly bitter flavour of chocolate over the muted spices from their dinner, and something else – something distinctly Hoseok that makes Yoongi’s knees feel like Jell-O.Or: Hoseok wants Yoongi to eat ice cream. Yoongi just wants to eat Hoseok. ~ eating disorder, smut ~ 5695
 ⇢ Flames just create us (burns don't heal like before) ~ Yoongi is a wolf and Hoseok is a lamb trying to run away from home.(Or: Hoseok is heir to a multi-billion company and Yoongi is the bartender he falls in love with.) ~ heir!hoseok, bartender!yoongi ~ 22,090
𝕄𝕌𝕃𝕋𝕀ℙ𝕃𝔼 𝕊ℍ𝕀ℙ𝕊
 ⇢ no more parties in seoul ~ tittytae: mail me my death certificate pls 
tittytae: i jus accidentally liked Jungkook’s pic from fifty weeks ago
jimin neutron: YES YES YES
tittytae: I UNLIKED IT
tittytae: did i just make it worse
a chatfic where all of bangtan are in university, live to expose one another, and hoseok is a modern day cupid. ~ texting, fwb!taekook ~ 57,455 (yoonmin, taekook, namjin)
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lalka-laski · 4 years
Text
Survey Fun
What’s the weather like right now? Unusually warm for January in Upstate New York. But my walk to work this morning was lovely and I only had to wear a spring jacket, so I’ll take it!  What are you currently sitting on? An office chair. How many times have you brushed your teeth today? Just once, it’s only 7 am. 
When did you get up? 5:45. I woke up just a few minutes before my alarm, which is uncharacteristic of me. I’ve been sleeping soundly the entire night lately and waking up refreshed! I always thought restful sleep was a scam but I’m becoming a believer! 
Have you been in a vehicle for more than 45 minutes today? I haven’t been in a vehicle for quite a few days actually. Perks of the pedestrian life! 
Where is your best friend? My lifelong best friend lives in Pittsburgh.  How many days until Christmas? It’s January 11th so you can do the math  Have you kissed someone today? I have not  Is your mom over 50? 50 and some change. Maybe 55? I should know this...  How old were you 7 years ago? 20. OH GOD! This was not the kind of realization I needed today.  Do you know what ‘C'est la vie’ means? I do. And I can’t read or hear that phrase without “C’est la vie” by B*Witched running through my head. The ‘90s were strange.  Do you usually take showers or baths? Showers recently because my current bathtub isn’t really fit for a proper soak. (Hasn’t stopped me from trying though...) One of my requirements for my future house is a nice bathtub. What kind of bottoms are you wearing right now? Black jeggings with a tummy control panel that I have to say doesn’t work that great. 
Are you wearing anything red? My nails What was the name of your first pet? Beanie the bunny!  Do you live in an apartment? I do, and a fairly decent one at that. I’m happy! What color is the floor in the room you’re in? It’s not one distinguishable color but rather an array of earth tones.  What was the most irritating thing to happen to you today? Knock on wood, the day’s been calm and stress free so far. Granted, I’ve only been at work for an hour and only seen 2 clients BUT... it’s a nice start. How do you feel about your most recent ex? I don’t think about him anymore, and for that I am grateful.  Do you wish at 11:11? Sometimes just for fun.  Do you wish on shooting stars? Once as a kid I was sitting in my backyard the night before an end-of-the-school-year picnic. I saw a shooting star and I wished that I would win a game of Bingo at the picnic. And the next day, I did! So as far as I’m concerned, shooting star wishes have a 100% success rate and that is not debatable ok. 
Do you wish on dandelions? I do! I like the whimsical fun of it.   Are you drinking anything right now? I just finished a coffee and now I’m sipping water. I rotate between water, sparkling water and coffee throughout my work days. The bathroom trips are INCESSANT!  About how tall is your father? It’s funny, everyone assumes he’s 6′ or taller, but he’s really only about 5′10. He’s just such a large man and has a very big, intimidating presence so he appears taller than he is.  How old is your oldest living grandparent? Mid-80s.  Do you know anyone who has lived to be 100+? My maternal grandfather’s mother lived ‘till her late 90s if I’m not mistaken. Which was pretty unprecedented for her era. I could see my grandpa living ‘till 100 himself. And his wife (my grandma) just might as well despite her decaying health, because as my mom says “evil never dies.”  Have you had your birthday yet this year? Not for another 7 months!  Do you read your horoscope on a regular basis? I don’t, but I still find astrology interesting. I view it less as dogma and more as a tool for self-discovery and introspection. And I think people who want to criticize the validity of it need to lighten up a little!
Do you like the color yellow? It’s one of my least favorites actually. I NEVER wear yellow apparel or accessories, and I’m not even fond of it for decor/knick knacks etc. Something about it, I dunno... 
Are you an aunt or uncle? My boyfriend has a niece and nephew that I refer to as my own. And they will technically be someday, so better to just get in the habit now I suppose! Why is your best friend your best friend? It was destiny, if I’m honest. What is your hair like at the moment? I have it piled into a hair-clip. This hairstyle paired with my glasses give me a real librarian vibe, but not in a sexy way.  How many times have you donated blood this year? This calendar year, none. Last year I believe I donated once? I try to as much as possible. It’s such a simple act of charity. Plus, you usually get a tee shirt or something out of it! Are you wearing any jewelry? My claddagh & my promise ring (we call it “the placeholder).  Are you a video-gamer? We never had any kind of gaming consoles or devices growing up. Not because we weren’t allowed, but because they simply never interested us. I did like a few PC games though as a kid. Carmen Sandiego is still my bitch!  Who got married at the last wedding you went to? My good friend Sarah Do you like Chinese food? I do! I just had some mock Sesame Chicken the other day and it was bomb.  How far is the nearest Walmart? A little less than a 10 minute drive from here, I think. Have you ever been a designated driver? Never. And not only for the obvious reason that I don’t have a license. Even if I did, I wouldn’t want that responsibility. When I go out, I GO OUT.  What is something that always brings tears to your eyes? Looking at pictures of my “babies” (the little girls I nanny or my goddaughter). I sometimes can’t even talk about them without getting a little crack in my voice. My love for them is just outrageous.  Who is your 20th phone contact? If you really think I’m picking up my phone and counting... Do you have any plans to get a tattoo? I used to have a list of potential tattoos but looking back, I’m grateful I never followed through with any. I’m maxed out at one tat.  Or a new piercing? None.
What would your name be if your last name was the color of your shirt? Black. Elizabeth Black, hmm... doesn’t suit me at all. If you could find out how you would die, would you want to know? ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT.  Do you make your bed regularly? I lazily make it. By that I mean, I prop the pillows against the headboard, lay the comforter flat and then strategically toss the throw blankets across it. It’s the perfect effortless-but-actually-required-some-effort look.  Do you look forward to the weekend? It’s Saturday right now and I am living for it!  How much do you know about the mechanics of cars? Not a damn thing. Has anyone ever told you you should be a model? Actually, yeah. But I don’t get those comments anymore and I’ll try to pretend that’s not result of my weight gain...  How old was your mom when she had you? 27 I believe? Which is the exact age I am right now, so this has been a fun survey *eye roll*  Do rainy days get you down? No, I adore them! Who is the artist/band you’re listening to at the moment? Just the instrumental office music right now. But lately I’ve been LOVING Blood Orange.  Do you ever take aspirin when you 'feel a headache coming on’? Occasionally. I only really get headaches when I’m hungover so it’s not often.  Is there a calendar in the room you’re in? Nope. Do you prefer to be in a relationship or be single? I’m in a beautiful and healthy relationship right now so, that should answer it.  If you’re single, do you wish you were in a relationship? Have you ever had your heart broken? Plenty of times  Do you live within an hour of the beach? I do! For Upsate NY we have a pretty good selection of beaches. How do you like your steak? I don’t. Were you born in the 1980s? I WISH
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thee1amk · 5 years
Text
KatWoman
Kat hovered over the green button on her iPad. The button covered by her red painted nail hesitated like a warning sign.
Should she do this ?
Kat didn’t understand if this was morally right, physically, mentally or emotionally.
She had to roll her eyes at herself. When have I ever been moral?
Kat had a thing for two things. Sexy men and attention. Since sixteen years old Kat has been on sexual prowl that not even 5 years later could explain.
She liked to fuck and she liked to fuck a lot. She once thought of it as a sickness, her constant arousal at the smallest things. Big clean hands, growling moans, and tentative kisses near her ear. Even thunderstorms got her in the mood.
It never went away and so she’d thought to make a ... living off of it. Not her sole income of course. She enjoyed her librarian position and it paid her bills. She was content but when she had signed up for the Girlfriend Experience it was clear that she was going to find a new kind of content, one she hoped to enjoy.
But now, after she was assigned and paired with a client with similar interests as her Kat wondered if this was a mistake. She knew it was too late.
She had signed a contract with her agent weeks ago and there was no turning back now. And it stated that the Girls ( her ) had to make the call first.
Unknowingly, Kat had stupidly chosen video calling as a preferred communication vessel. She sat at her armoire, her short black wig giving her a feminine look and showed off her slender shoulders and long neck. She had chosen a lacy black leotard that went to her flowing wrists. Her legs were uncovered as the one piece slid between her butt and coveted her sex.
Her makeup was little, not wanting to be a catfish but sexy. Black eyeliner, mascara, and blood red lipstick to cover her full plump lips. She wore no jewelry and no accessories save for one thing, her mask. Kats mask was made from faux leather and was creatively made into a feline coverup. The mask hid everything from her plump lips and up. Only her eyes were visible so that she may see, small indents on the side made whiskers and two curved cat ears that made her choose her online name: KatWoman21. Slightly feeling like a slutty version of Halle Barry she knew she looked sexy and feirce. That’s how she liked herself anyway.
Just press the button she told herself and pressed it before she had to the nerve to tell herself no.
The chime on the apple device rang until a man picked up and Kat was taken by surprise. Large green eyes filled the screen that was surrounded by a coffee skinned man. She couldn’t help her satisfied sound and knew he had heard it.
‘Your Kat?’ His voice was low and dark. Gravely even, like Batman. She liked that.
She nodded.
‘One moment’ then he put her on mute. She couldn’t hear what he was saying but watched as his mouth moved, how his straight teeth looked immaculate on his dark copper skin. She also didn’t miss the suit he had on. Even from across the camera she could see that he was wealthy, maybe even important.
A few minutes later she was unmuted and he was looking at her. She sat still, not knowing what to say and not wanting to look uncomfortable.
‘Your beautiful’ was what he said and she blushed.
‘Thank you’ was all she said.
He titled his head, as if he were really looking at her, as if he were in front of her and not behind a camera.
‘You haven’t done this before’ It wasn’t a question but a statement. she blushed, cursing herself for being obvious. ‘It’s okay, I like that.’
Kat looked at him through the camera. He was in a office of some kind. Big grand windows loomed above him to show sunset skies. Purple, orange and red all swirled around him and Kat thought that maybe this is what Zeus must have looked like to his human conquests. Even on FaceTime he was the most beautiful man she’s ever seen.
He sat straight and she could see the smooth three piece suit he wore. He chest taught from what she could see. She was sure he had his hands folded in front of him. How cute, he thought it was business meeting.
Kat smiled shyly ‘you haven’t done this either.’
She could have sworn his eyes widened but he maintained an expression of nothing. But she saw it.
‘No I haven’t’ he says.
Hmmm. New meat was what he was. She was too but she was the worker here and that meant she could lead the way and he’d follow. The thought of this man following her made her smile widen.
‘I can admit that this is a first for me.’
‘I like firsts. First time things are exciting.’ She said.
For the first time in this call the green eyes looked at me. I sat straight, not the least bit shy that my dark nipples shown through the lacy fabric. My skin was a roasted peanut butter shade, it was summer time and the dark color covered my tan lines.
I was pretty in my own way. I had brown eyes that were to large for my face, pretty lips and a pert nose that made people swear I was mixed. My father and mother were both black. The result landed me with a tiny waist and huge hips that lead to an ass that never went away no matter what diet I did.
He could see most of me and I thought I may be a bit crazy when my core began to pulse. His stare, it was so intense with an emotion I’ve never seen before. My room filled with it and I narrowed my eyes. What I saw in him was unbridled control. He let it flow out of him and into the camera. He also held on to it like a life line which to me meant he had none at all.
I don’t know how I felt about that.
‘Yes, they are. I’d like to do a first.’
Curiosity is what got me into this and it was why I asked, ‘oh ?’
‘I’m going to ask you to stand and present yourself to me. To show me your body.’
That was fast. ‘Your first is asking me a question?’
Green is what I’d call him because those eyes... ‘I don’t ask, Kat. I command and I take. Our circumstances forbids me to do that.’
Oooo ‘I don’t think it does. You can command and take all you want on here.’
Green moved an index finger over his hand. The small movement had me wondering what was on his mind.
‘Woman who’ve said that to me come to regret it.’
I pause. What did that mean? Like BDSM? I’ve never done that. I wouldn’t do that with a stranger. But if he wanted to just boss me around, tell me what to do...
‘Well, right now I’m not most woman. I can be yours when we’re here. I can do what you ask, command as long as I feel comfortable with it.’
Green and his green eyes glint with excitement. ‘I’ll take your word of it’
I push the bench I sit on back a bit and move it to the side. The room I chose to do this in was one of the cleared out rooms in the house I live in.
The walls were wood and the carpet was a cream colored and plush beneath my bare feet. There was no furniture save for the large queen bed over to the left of me and mirror I sat at.
Green didn’t move an inch as I walked away. I liked the feel of his eyes on my back as I ran a hand down my form.
I turn a look over my shoulder to see his expression but still... nothing. Oh well. I turned back and used both hands to graze my slim back. My red nails bold against me. Most of my backside was on sight for him, the small birthmark on my right hip.
I turn to show a side profile of me. Long legs and tan skin the pulled tight on my full hips.
‘Your sexy.’ The two words, I lived for. I heard them before but it never failed to make me confident.
But now with his dark voice, I waited for the warm liquid in my core and when it came I turned my full front to him.
‘You like what you see?’
My hands moved on their own occurrence, my attention was on Green. He stared at me, I imagine like an wild panther stared at a prey he craved. It made my heart beat a little fast.
I was lost in a trance I hadn’t felt in a long time. What would Victor think to see me now ?
I didn’t let myself think of that. Not when Green spoke again.
‘When you move like that... yes. I do.’
‘Am I what you want?’
It was like watching the stove light to fire seeing the heat that entered Greens eyes when I asked him that.
I didn’t need to take my clothes off and I wouldn’t for the simple fact it was our first video. But I wanted to make our time worth it, seeing how he would be paying me. That didn’t mean I couldn’t have fun. And I was. I think he was too.
He didn’t answer me. Whatever. It didn’t stop his eyes from traveling with my hands as they cupped my breasts.
‘Your pierced.’ It wasn’t a question. I posted that on my profile and told my agent to let anyone know about them because they weren’t going anywhere. The day I got them was the day I declared my body was mine and I could do what I want. I did it to prove a point to Victor, to Green, to my agent and anyone else who felt they had a say over me.
‘Yes’ I say as I run a finger over the now pointed nipple.
I was turned on. For the simple idea that a stranger was watching me touch myself in a sensual manner.
‘Pinch them and roll them between your fingers.’ He commanded and I paused.
Heat spread along me and I was very tempted to do as he said. But that wasn’t what this call was about.
‘Kat’
‘I will follow your commands.’ I say and sashay over to the camera. ‘But I have conditions’
Greens lips twitched, watching my swaying hips and I could tell he wanted to say something. He didn’t take me serious and I smirk at him.
I hold up my index finger. ‘One, I will set up times to make the calls. I want to let you know when you can call me or when I’m ready to call you.’
‘I will not be your booty call.’
That’s exactly what I wanted him to be. ‘Yes you will, Green. You will unless you want to pay that 2 thousand cancellation fee’ I laugh.
I hold up the next finger. ‘And two, I want you to let me have command over you. Not all the time but some of it. You can notify me before we start the call.’
‘Have you lost your mind?’ He asked me and he looked so appalled I had to laugh again. Who was this sexy man?
‘No, but I can play nice if you do too.’ I make my point by taking my finger and lick the pad. He goes quiet when I clutch my silver studded skin and roll it between my fingers.
The feeling makes me shiver and do it again. ‘I have secrets, Green. Ones you can have.’
‘What secrets?’
My eyes lower with lust and good lord he had the same look.
‘Good ones. Dirty ones.’ I give him a sexy smile. ‘They could be yours. I can be yours.’
Green snarled at me. I raise an eyebrow and let go of my nipple.
‘You don’t play fair.’ He says.
I chuckle because I could tell I pulled a string. ‘I bet you no one has ever made you an ultimatum before. I bet your seething in your tight pants right now because I am.’
It was a guess. I couldn’t see if he was hard but when he spoke I could tell I made another point. Two for me and one for him seeing how I was still turned on.
‘You don’t know a thing about me.’
‘Your right. But I like to think that you’ll consider my suggestions.’
He practically seethed through the phone and I really, really hoped my cockiness didn’t screw me over.
‘You know what to do when you know your choice.’
‘You-‘
Without hesitation I press the red button before he could finish.
Green
What the fuck just happened ?
I was genuinely confused. I was looking forward to the call that I knew would come.
I didn’t know that she would call at 6, a time that work was no where near finished for me. But once I saw those eyes. Those red lips and dark smooth skin.
The men I had just finished a meeting with but took to long to get out was kicked out when I muted my phone so she couldn’t hear that they were asking about her. Hear them question if who I was talking to the Cat. My Cat.
But Kat was nothing like her. So I told them to shut up and to get out just so I could talk to her.
And I did. I talked to her. I watched her watch me. I thought about what it would be like to smack her ass, graze my fingers on her flesh. To suck her silver jeweled nipples. And her mouth, sassy and dirty.
I had never done this Girlfriend Experience before. It wasn’t an escort company. A man like me didn’t have to pay for sex. It came to me. However, it still stung to know I had to pay for a relationship. Which was what the Experience was.
Rich men like me pay to have a girlfriend so I don’t have to deal with the real burden of having one.
Yet I still sit in my office ten minutes later, staring at my blank phone.
I want to let you know when you can call me or when I’m ready to call you.’
Fucking hell.
If I was a good guy, I’d give that demanding, sexy woman that stole my breath away with her every move the benefit of the doubt. She doesn’t know who I am and I should keep it that way.
But it was so primal, so easy for my dick to harden when she looked at me. I could have sworn her body was filled with need watching me as my body was.
I could tell myself that me being the richest African American in the country right now would keep her safe from my… habits.
But she challenged me in a way Cat never dared to. Kat had worn a mask like Halle Barry in Catwoman and she had looked mysterious and untouchable.
I look run a finger along my lip contemplating on asking my agent to look for another girl. But I knew wouldn’t because I wanted her.
You know what to do when you know your choice.
Yes I do. Kat liked to play games. I smile and wondered if she would be prepared to play with me.
To be continued...
-thee1amk
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