#you either give up your panda or live long enough to see yourself become a panda

[ghastlybin]

Lost within myself - Dami

HOWDY HOWDY HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATIE (@panda-writes-kpop) I LOVE YOUUUUU THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FRIEND AND ALSO A FELLOW CLOWN, we love to see it. As you can tell by the AU,,, lol,,, Inspired by our past convos regarding the hunger games. I wanted to switch it up a little… Kinda. I hope you enjoy and that this didn't turn out bad^^ HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶💜💜💜💜

Also added Taehyun because I needed another tribute since reader is a mentor. Also cause I love him and think he fits the concept somehow.

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▾Hunger games! AU ▾ Angst but also some fluff?? If you squint▾ Language & Violence ▾ Death implications ▾Tribute! Dami X Mentor! Reader▾ Y’all know the drill, also Dami has plot armor ▾ FT. Twice Tzuyu & TXT Taehyun. ▾ Taehyun has plot armor too ▾ Tzuyu has plot armor by default ▾ Yes, you are Haymitch. /J ▾ Ending is up for interpretation ▾

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W.C▾ 2.8K

pic credit to pinterest.

Everyone feared you.

Whether you wanted them to or not, they feared you. They hated you, even. You killed someone’s child after all. Their sibling, cousin, friend, crush, significant other— Someone who had younger people looking up to them.

You killed a person. People, for that matter.

It was just a game, right?

Games are supposed to be fun. No one was supposed to get hurt in a game.

It wasn’t fun knowing you were taking someone’s life.

It wasn’t fun knowing you were hurting more than one person each time you defended yourself, even if it were you or them.

They had the same goals you did, but only one of you could reach them.

You were the victor in the end.

Another victor with blood on your hands. But hey, you win.

Right?

▾

The ride to the Capitol was unbearably long. You remembered how it felt to ride in the train for the first time after the reaping. How you volunteered for your friend that you don’t see much anymore. The last time you felt alive and not like some monster that ruined other people’s lives.

You were the Capitol’s favorite though.

“Don’t mope around. We have guests.” Tzuyu nudged you. You sat up straight, rolling your shoulders back.

Your expression didn’t change, but you weren’t zoned out and staring outside.

“Do you want me to be happy for them?”

Tzuyu smiled at the tributes before giving you a threatening glare.

“Next car. Now.” She said through gritted teeth.

You got up without a word and followed her into the next car.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to come off as rude.” You apologized right away when the door closed.

“You did. They are already scared, the least you can do is smile for them and help them become more comfortable. Would it really kill you to try?” Tzuyu kept her tone low enough to where you could hear but the tributes couldn’t.

“You’re their mentor now! No body ever survives with a pessimistic mentor.”

“No body survives with an optimistic one either.” You retorted. Tzuyu sighed, shaking her head.

“Please, just try. For them? They need your help more than ever. No body asks for this.”

“Careers.” You mumbled, earning another glare.

Tzuyu glanced through the window of the door, seeing the two tributes sitting and actively avoiding each other. You remembered how you were when you were in their shoes.

Avoiding the other tribute, knowing it would come down to you or them in the end. Even though you had long forgotten the name of the other person you were reaped with, it still wrenched your heart to remember there had been another person with you.

“Tzuyu. Only one of them can survive.” You reminded. Tzuyu acknowledged with a frown.

“I will try my best. Can’t believe they are making me raise murderers.” You mumbled the last bit, walking back into the other car with the tributes.

They both looked at you and Tzuyu. You smiled for them, even if it was forced.

“I apologize for being rude. How are you two holding up?” You asked them, trying to sound as sincere as possible. Tzuyu furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Why do you sound like that?” She asked.

“What?”

“Like a… Servant— You sound very fake.”

“No I don’t.” You defended yourself with a scoff, glancing at the two tributes.

“Yes. Yes, you do.”

“Do I sound fake?” You asked the two tributes. They seemed confused on whether they wanted to nod or shake their heads.

Yubin stood up, avoiding your question all together and held her hand up for you to shake.

“I’m Yubin.”

There was something about her that interested you. It wasn't just how gorgeous she was either.

At the Capitol, you couldn't focus on much. All you could think about was Yubin.

A silly little crush, some might say.

It even went as far as forgetting you were the mentor. Not Tzuyu, who at times had to speak for you after so many tries of getting you to focus.

It was your first year as a mentor, after all. You were still the Capitol’s favorite shell of a person.

“What if the Career’s try to recruit you? What would you do?” Tzuyu asked the tributes. You realized you never got the other tribute’s name.

It was only Yubin. Yubin. Yubin.

It was already too late to ask for the other tribute’s name.

Too awkward.

You put your drink down.

“Don’t get close to anyone. You’ll only feel betrayed.”

Tzuyu cleared her throat, “hate to admit it, but it’s true. There will only be one survivor. If it’s not one of you, it’ll be a career you trusted.”

▾

“Anything you want to say to them before they go into training?” Tzuyu asked, crossing her arms. You smiled at them.

“Good luck.”

Tzuyu lightly slapped your arms. You sighed.

“Work on what you know you’re good at. Don’t bother learning new stuff until you’ve perfected what you know.” You advised more seriously.

“Yubin, you’re smart. If I were you, I’d focus on your familiarity with plants, the terrain, survival skills. The difference between a mound and a mine.”

You looked at the other tribute, who seemed surprised you were actually being a mentor.

“And you… Er…” You admit, you felt bad for never learning his name.

“Taehyun.” Tzuyu whispered to you. You awkwardly smiled.

“Taehyun. You’re good with knives. Focus on that.”

“Ah, so you do know something about me.” Taehyun joked. You crossed your arms.

“You are forgetting something though.” He added. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m good at being invisible.”

You weren't sure if he was just joking to make fun of you for only focusing on Yubin or if he was serious.

“Taehyun, I'm so sorry. I don't usually—”

“I'm serious. I’ve won every game of hide and seek I’ve played.” Taehyun proudly stated.

“Knives and camouflage. Good. Awesome. You two know what to focus on now.” You looked at the two, feeling a sense of pride for getting stuck with the smart tributes and not the reckless ones.

When they left you and Tzuyu waited.

More waiting.

“You did good. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” You questioned, slightly offended. Tzuyu put her hand on your shoulder.

“I’m disappointed that you only remembered one of their names.”

You groaned, sitting down, “do you want me to write Taehyun’s name five hundred times to make sure I remember it next time?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Tzuyu sat beside you. You threw your head back, staring at the ceiling above you.

“Do you like Yubin?”

“What do you mean?”

Tzuyu narrowed her eyes at you, “you know what I mean. I see the way you look at her when she’s talking or doing anything. I saw the way you froze when she shook your hand. I have never seen you exhibit this kind of behavior before.”

“Is it really out of character to have a crush?” You closed your eyes. Tzuyu smiled a little.

“It’s… How do I put this… Unrequited.”

You opened your eyes again, still staring at the ceiling in such a neck breaking position.

Unrequited seemed to fit. Yubin was a tribute.

She had a one out of twenty-four chance of survival. Even after, a kind-hearted person like Yubin wouldn’t be the same after if she won.

You sure as hell weren’t.

▾

You, Yubin, Taehyun, and Tzuyu sat around the TV waiting for their scores. You pretty much tuned out every other tributes scores from other districts, knowing they’d most likely be average or poor while the careers had the highest.

It was always like that.

You were in the poor range, as hard as it was the believe. A score of three.

So how did you manage to survive?

You were just a person, killing to survive. Dying to live.

“Oh! Pay attention!” Tzuyu excitedly smacked your arm. Yubin chuckled, inching her hand towards yours as Taehyun’s score were first.

You absentmindedly curled your fingers around Yubin’s hand.

Nine.

“Holy shit.”

“Language.” Tzuyu scolded, although she was impressed. Taehyun even seemed surprised.

“Good job, er… What is your name again?” You joked. Taehyun threw a grape at you.

“Very funny.” Taehyun looked back at the screen as Yubin came up.

You were now consciously aware that Yubin was holding your hand. Whether she intended it or not, she squeezed your hand in anticipation.

Eleven.

“Holy shit.” Tzuyu muttered under her breath.

“Sorry.” She immediately apologized. You grinned, “did I hear you correctly?”

“Quiet.”

Yubin’s eyes were glued to the TV in shock, wondering how her smarts got that high of a score.

“You got an eleven. Do you know who the last person to get an eleven was?” You asked Yubin, placing your other hand over hers.

“No, was it you?” Yubin asked while her score registered.

“Absolutely… not.” You had a huge smile on your face. “I got a three.”

Yubin scoffed at your response.

“I got a nine.” Taehyun reminded. You gave him a thumbs up.

“I can hack into the system and make it higher—”

“Hey!” Tzuyu slapped your arm. “Don’t say that out loud. Are you trying to get us raided by peacekeepers?”

You cleared your throat and looked at Taehyun again, whispering this time.

“I can hack into the system and make it higher.”

▾

It was the night before the games and your chest felt heavy, knowing your new friends— as well as your budding romance with Yubin— would be coming to an end sooner than you were ready.

You almost forgot that you were raising murderers despite the countless times Tzuyu reminded you.

“Well, I’m headed off to sleep. Goodnight.” Taehyun was the first to leave for the night. Assuming he just wanted to get it all over with.

Tzuyu was next, although she seemed on edge about how tomorrow would turn out.

Then there were two. You and Yubin.

Yubin stood on the balcony, overlooking the Capitol.

“Hey there, eleven.”

Yubin smiled, already knowing who you were without looking back.

“Hey, three.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “okay, well this three still survived.”

Yubin laughed half-heartedly and you could tell something was wrong.

Probably the fact she’ll need to fight for her life in an arena of other tributes doing the same.

“What was it like for you? In your games?”

Your smile faded slowly and the pain you’ve held inside became more prominent. You tried so hard to push the memories away despite them being everywhere.

“Full story or a summary?” You slowly joined her, leaning against the railing of the balcony with her,

“You pick.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to recall the memories for Yubin’s sake.

“My name wasn’t called during the reaping. My friend was supposed to be there. But she panicked when she had to go up on stage and I volunteered on a whim.”

Yubin listened to everything you said, admiring your bravery.

“So you do care about people.” Yubin slightly smirked. You lightly nudged her.

“Of course I do. I wasn’t good with most skills others possessed. That’s why I got a three. In the arena, I was terrified and even… I don’t know. I wish I could go back and tell myself to not be so reckless.” You frowned.

“You lived because you were reckless. If I live, it’s because I was the opposite.” Yubin rubbed her hands together. You thought about what she said.

Would you have died if you were more cautious?

“I’m not afraid of dying,” Yubin turned to face you. She grabbed your shoulders to force you to face her as well.

“I’m afraid of losing who I am.”

She smiled at you, but it was sympathetic.

“It’s not too late to find yourself. I loved the moments when I could see the real you coming out. I hope you can learn to forgive yourself for something you were forced to do.”

With that sentence leaving you in a state of shock that gutted you, you stood there, silent as the tears welled up in your eyes.

“I know you’re rooting for me. I’m rooting for you too.” Yubin whispered, kissing your cheek before walking away.

“Goodnight.”

▾

You were coming to terms with everything. Your past and what Yubin said to you that night.

You watched the cornucopia on a screen with Tzuyu.

When everyone ran off of their podiums, Taehyun and Yubin ran their separate ways in the chaos.

Yubin was immediately chased by a group of four careers.

The careers sought her out, knowing they would be unable to recruit her before the games. She knew her score was too high as she ran through the forests. You knew her score was too high.

If they didn’t recruit her, they’d have to target her first.

“Don’t get close to anyone. You’ll only feel betrayed.”

Yubin slid down a slope and into a river, screaming before she was submerged under the water.

You watched, some how determined that she would survive.

And she did, quickly getting up and splashing to the other side as the careers watched her from the slope she slid down.

You smiled a genuine smile knowing they hadn’t got her yet.

Yubin hid on higher ground, using her wits to guide her. Luckily, no one found her or even came to that part of the arena.

She had to be careful about the borders too, knowing what to watch out for.

Yubin spent her first night alone, exhausted and watching each picture of the fallen tributes in the sky.

None of whom she’s met before.

As the days went by, Yubin was alone. No sign of other tributes— Other than the fallen ones that appeared in the sky after the cannon shots.

There were four tributes left, including Yubin.

You watched the screen carefully, supplying her with a parachute that contained food so she wouldn’t have to risk running into one of the other tributes.

Yubin watched as the parachute made it’s way to her, catching it. Yubin looked up at the sky, mouthing a desperate ‘thank you.’

That night, only one tribute died.

It was now Yubin, Taehyun, and a career from District 2.

The next day, the cornucopia was announced to be replenished with food, water, weapons— The essentials.

You knew it was the gamemaker’s way of getting the three together. The ones left knew where the cornucopia was and that they may need the supplies.

Yubin knew how to forage for food. She knew how to purify the water.

But it was growing difficult to find food that wouldn’t kill her or poison her.

It was difficult purifying water she didn’t have the tools for.

So Yubin made her way back to the cornucopia.

So did Taehyun and so did the career from District 2.

You and Tzuyu anxiously watched, although glad someone from your district made it this far— Let alone both of them.

That just made it all the more harder to watch.

The three tributes standing stared at each other, eyeing each other’s movements.

Yubin didn’t want to fight. She was probably the only tribute that hadn’t killed anyone.

Taehyun lost every knife he had over the past few days.

The career seemed the most ready to fight than the other two.

The standoff dragged out for an unnecessarily long time.

“Fuck.” You muttered. Tzuyu glanced at you with curiosity.

In an attempt to help out, you sent the one thing you saved as an absolute last resort. Your secret.

Watching the small parachute floating down towards Yubin, Taehyun, and the career didn’t make it any less tense.

“I don't want to die.” Yubin declared, all of her fear and sorrow building up inside of her.

The parachute landed in between them, and on instinct, Yubin stepped backwards. Taehyun glanced at Yubin, taking a step back also as the career stepped closer to the parachute.

“I don’t want to die.” She repeated with tears welling into her eyes.

She was telling the truth in the words she spoke. You’ve seen it all before because you were there once too. You didn’t want to die when you were in the arena. Why else would you have fought that hard?

“I’m not afraid of dying.”

The truth hurts.

“I’m afraid of losing who I am.”

But secrets kill.

#dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher au #dreamcatcher x reader #dreamcatcher fics #dreamcatcher angst #dreamcatcher dami imagine #dreamcatcher dami x reader #dreamcatcher fanfic #Happy birthday katie!!!!!!!!

[sangco]

on a scale of mei to retsuko how red panda are you

#turning red #aggrestsuko #fanart #art #im both fyi #you either give up your panda or live long enough to see yourself become a panda

[goldenkirstein]

She lives in daydreams with me

or alternatively, when jean and you visit Ikea

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

pairing: jean x fem! reader

wc: 1.5k+

tags: fluff, modern! au, female reader, language, mentions of food.

a/n: I was inspired by this post, also I just like Ikea, I think Jean would to tbh. am i living out my own daydreams with Jean by writing this? potentially. i love him lol. Feedback and any criticism encouraged lmao.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Your head tilted as you stared dead-on at the boy in front of you.

“Jean, what is that?”

“What are you talking about baby, this is a-” He squinted, looking at the tag, of what you assumed to be a night light?

“An-garna.” Jean looked back up at you, grinning widely.

You had come earlier to Ikea, needing to buy some storage baskets for your room, and yet here you were standing in a miniature model of a child’s room, staring at the six-foot three-man holding a children’s night light, that had...Was that panda face design on it?

“Jean, my love, my dear, we don’t have kids; why on Earth would I need a children’s night light?” The toothy grin quickly disappeared from his face, quickly replaced with a stern expression.

“Just because something is marketed towards children doesn’t mean adults can’t buy it, and anyways I was merely suggesting it, knowing how you can’t sleep after watching horror movies.” It’s more like when he can’t sleep after watching, but his ego would never let him admit that.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, “put it in the cart, Kirstein.” He flashed you a smile, coming over and placing a kiss on your cheek before mumbling a small thank you.

As much as you would act annoyed or unamused when it came to Jean’s antics, it was more or less a front. You loved it when he would let his guard down in public with you. He wasn’t always like this; the Jean you met years prior would be caught dead before expressing his affections in public. He would get easily flustered, blush to sport his face if anyone he knew saw him admiring and doting on his girlfriend. It wasn’t something that deeply upset you; in a way, you were able to keep a tiny part of Jean to yourself, the goofy, tender side of him that he only let out when he was with you. However, watching him become more confident in himself and expressing his love for you outranked any desires that you had to keep Jean bottled up for your gratification.

He walked in front, long legs carrying him practically miles in front of you until he turned a corner and found himself situated in a living-room model. You followed shortly after and saw that he was making himself comfortable on a charcoal-grey couch.

“Mm, come sit,” he patted gently on the cushion next to him, gesturing to you to join him on the sofa. You raised your eyebrows and let out a giggle, situating the cart near a side table before accompanying him.

“What do you wanna watch babe,” Jean tilted his head, signalling to the fake flat-screen in front of you. You thought about tormenting the boy; however, you opted to play along with him this time.

“Oooh, I don’t know, check if the new Grey’s episode is out.” He smiled at you, appreciating your willingness to get lost in this daydream with him. His smile quickly shifted into a mischievous grin as he poked your side.

“Heyyy, what the fuck was that for!” You recoiled, shrinking away from him, but before you could get far enough away from him, he pulled you back into his side. You tried squirming away from him, only for his grip on you to get stronger, and you were met with a chuckle—the noise reverberating around the tiny living room.

“Really? Greys? On a night like this?” You shifted your body, turning your head to look at the “window” covered with sheer beige curtains, overlaid with opaque maroon ones. Outside, or rather you should say the wall was painted white, so you began drumming up a scenario in your mind. That was tonight, a spring evening, stars visible in the night sky? Or a cold and snowy winter’s night? The purple tinge of the atmosphere apparent through the translucent curtains. Jean stared at you intently, wondering what you will come up with, his gaze shifting as the corners of your lips upturned; you had settled on an idea.

“Oooh yeah, it’s practically pitch black outside; I can only see the streetlights in the distance. We should really do something about that pesky tree, though. Its branches keep tapping on the window; it’s frankly quite annoying.” A rosy tinge was present on his cheeks, hazel eyes twinkling at you.

You placed a hand on his chest, your focus entirely on the love-struck boy in front of you, “You know what? We should totally watch a horror movie!” Just as you began to immerse yourself in the daydream, Jean shot up from the couch, leaving an indent where he was sitting behind.

“Alright, enough dilly-dallying, we should go home now.” He clapped his hands together, moving to grab the cart to leave the store display.

Dilly-dallying? Did he really just say dilly-dallying?

“What’s wrong, Jean-boy? This is our home! Oooh, don’t tell me you don’t wanna watch because you’re scared.” You fell back on the couch, beaming, elbows propping you up as you teased him.

“Am not. I just decided that I’m in the mood for cinnamon rolls and fro-yo.” He placed his elbow on the handles of the cart, head resting in the palm of his hand. He gave you an unimpressed look.

“Oh really? Who’s that night-light for again? I seem to have forgotten.” This time it was his turn to roll his eyes at you. Without saying anything, he placed his hands back on the cart’s handle and began to leave the “living room.”

You swung your legs over, a giggle leaving your mouth as you walked over to your boyfriend. You wrapped your arms around his middle, resting your cheek on him. “Babe, I was just joking; I didn’t mean to upset you,” you mumbled into him.

He let out a sigh and stopped in the middle of the aisle. You watched as he brought one of his hands down to grasp one of yours that had taken hold of his waist. Jean turned to face you, head tilting as a slight smirk overtook his face. “That’s what I was waiting to hear.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning around to continue rolling the cart forward to his destination.

His arm extended behind him, motioning to you to hold his hand. You obliged, your palm sliding in his, fingers curling around your knuckles as his. “Whatever,” you grumbled, choosing to turn your head to observe the variety of rugs that were hanging on display. He tugged at your hand, an amused expression painting his face.

“You want those cinnamon buns or not, pretty girl?” The pet name almost made you choke. He knew what it would do to you. He would use it sparsely, only to coax a reaction out of you, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know the hold he had over you.

You whipped your head back to face him, confident to quip back at him, but it all melted when you saw the way he was looking at you; a lop-sided smirk, his tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip before capturing it between his teeth. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for what you had to say.

“Yeah, I do.” You managed to slip a few words out. He had won this one, using his charms to debilitate any assuredness you had. He brought your linked hands up to his lips, tenderly kissing the back of your hand, humming in delight.

“You know, we should come here more often, live out our domestic daydreams together.” The smells of cinnamon buns were getting stronger as you walked on.

“Sure, but you could also just move in with me.”

The tips of his ears went red, and you paused, realizing what you just said, the weight of what you just said. You had thought about asking him to move in with you, but you didn’t mean for it to slip out in the middle of a random conversation; in Ikea nonetheless. “I- You don’t have to. I was just joking. I don’t know why I said that.”

Your voice dwindled to merely a whisper as you completed your sentence. Jean stopped the cart once more. “Yes. Yes, I’ll move in with you.” His expression was earnest as he looked at you, eyes glittering with adoration as he waited for your response.

“Whoa, whoa, hold your horses cowboy. We can talk about this after you get me those cinnamon buns you promised.” you wiped any sense of embarrassment from your face as you tried to suppress your laughter, which was caused by the zealousness your boyfriend had just shown.

However, there was no doubt that your heart did grow in fondness for Jean, and you were relieved that he wasn’t off-put by your haphazard confession. He was absolutely whipped for you, and you couldn’t deny that you were head over heels in love with him either. You desired to continue to share your life with him, and moving in together would be the next step in your relationship.

“Yes, Ma’am” His voice broke you out of your thoughts as he placed his hand to his forehead to salute you. You giggled at his actions.

“Lead the way, Kirstein.”

a/n: lol, this was practically for my own self-indulgence. and i feel like this was a tad bit ooc idk. Anywayssss, I would like to mention that I'm working on a navigation page with taglists and such and thinking about requests. I wanna branch out write for more aot characters as well as jjk and hq. Again, I'm very new to this so it's gonna take some time. I would love to know ur thoughts on all of this lol.

As always, please leave a like/reblog (i love reading tags makes me happy heh) if you enjoyed this, I appreciate lots <33

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #aot fluff #jean x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirstein fanfiction #jean kirstein fluff #jean kirstein imagine #jean kirschtein x you #jean x y/n #snk #snk x reader #snk imagines #jean kirstein x you #jean kirschtein x y/n #jean kirstein x y/n #attack on titan x reader #jean kirstein one-shot #harry styles #she #ikea #anime x reader #my writing #snk fluff

[concertsnearme]

on a scale of mei to retsuko how red panda are you

#aggrestsuko#fanart#art#im both fyi #you either give up your panda or live long enough to see yourself become a panda

#turning #aggrestsuko #fanart #turning red #you

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

Im sorry it’s not that sexy I’m afraid 😂. I work at Panda Express, so unless you find fried rice with orange chicken sexy with a side of Karen customers sexy then this will be great! 😂

Anyhow, all jokes aside, I have had my fair shares of bad days as I know many people have so I’m certain some people will relate to this. These kind of days suck so much. (Especially if you’re as sensitive as I am). I’ve had one guy ask if I spoke English cause I couldn’t hear him very well, seen my co workers get yelled and sworn at a few times, one lady actually did make me cry once “Oh! Don’t cry! It’s ok!” (Maybe don’t resort to yelling in my face then???), etc etc there’s more but that would be long 😅

My request is really just how the papas and copia would comfort their s/o coming home from one of those shitty days and just feeling like utter crap; maybe a little teary eyed ~Dorky anon

(I do wish people would be more kind and patient. I just don’t see the point in getting angry when most of the time it’s not necessary. We’re all just trying to make it through the day. Just so everyone knows, the customer is not always right. Bad work days happen, but by the end of the night they don’t matter anymore)

you're right that is super not sexy but bitch i FEEL you. im a waitress and while i have no problem with yelling back at shit head customers who don't know how to act, it can still totally ruin your day. im sorry people are so mean to you come live in canada where you'll never see another panda express again (i wont lie orange chicken is sexy tho does it match Karen's spray tan???) anyways on with my job:

Papa II: Would personally seek out anyone who was mean to you. all you have to do is give them a rough description and he'll make a few phone calls. you're never sure how but the next day at work the same customer will come in and apologize and suddenly become the nicest person youve ever met. or you never see them again and your pretty sure no one else will either. Absolutely no one will ever harm II's partner without consequence, and he's not above kidnapping family members to get an apology out of them. this man will defend you to the ends of the Earth.

Papa III: Similarly to his older brother he would be angry at the mere thought of someone slighting you, but he probably wouldn't go as far in the name of revenge. He would let you rant and scream to him about how awful customers are, like, as a species, and make you dinner to make up for it. And remind you that he's been telling you to quit your job for months now because he'll take care of you, why make yourself so miserable, blah blah blah. But you insist on doing your own thing, and because he thinks your delusional he plays along, because thats what you do with crazy people. He loves you all the same. Would also offer to give cheer-up head.

Cardinal Copia: I really want to say he would get so upset you would have to comfort him and promise you're okay, but if I'm being honest, I think he would be a little hard about it. His entire career everyone has been shitty to him, not thought he was good enough, not think he would ever be able to give what they needed from him: he would talk about this until you cooled off and realized one white lady with a shitty haircut isnt the end of the world, and that much worse things can happen. Not exactly the type of comforting everyone wants, but if you let him talk long enough he might have something good to say, and you'll forget all about your own terrible day.

- Rosie (also one time this absolutely insane huge buff 6'7 guy yelled at our 15 year old host until she cried and my 5'5 ass got so heated I almost made him cry and it felt really good. if you want ill come yell at customers for you)

#im not doing papa i until someone protests because if you self ship w that man youre absolutely fucking insane #hes basically dust #but if you want me to write him i will #im just pretty sure everyone skips over him to get to the Good Stuff anyways #ghost #ghost hc #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band #papa iii #papa ii #cardinal copia #rosie

[imagines-forthe-soul]

If you don't mind how about Enji and his s/o with a child (hopefully a girl and after the redemption arc)

Enji Todoroki:

If you don't mind how about Enji and his s/o with a child (hopefully a girl and after the redemption arc)

Listen to me closely when I say that Enji’s little girl is the most precious thing to him and he would honestly die for her.

As soon as she was born, he was a complete mess of tears, not being able to compose himself as his little girl is taken by the nurses to be cleaned, watching as they gently cradle her head and wipe her down. He can’t help but be slightly jealous too since they got to hold his daughter before he or his wife did but he doesn’t do much about it, just silently waits for his daughter to be all cleaned up so he can finally have her in his arms.

As soon as she’s been thoroughly checked and cleaned, Enji is on his feet, taking long strides to your hospital bed and watching his little girl whine and cry as she rests in your arms.

When he sees her face, he is crying yet again, body frozen in place because seeing her red cheeks and tufts of red hair grounds him to the earth so hard. He can’t believe he brought something as precious and innocent in the world after he things he has done in his past, even after being forgiven by most people.

You would have to bring him back to reality, asking him if he wanted to hold his precious daughter. He would look from the small pink bundle in your arms to your face, nodding rapidly and holding his arms out for you to place your daughter in his arms.

As soon as she placed comfortably in his arms, he brings her to his chest, his breath stilling in his chest as he gazes upon her resting face, cheeks still red and tear stained, her hands balled up in small fists. He can feel his heart swelling in his chest and more tears heading over his eyes, but he holds them back. Even if she’s sleeping and even too young to comprehend his emotions right now, he wants to be strong for her, to show her that she can always count on him to be her rock when she has become his own.

From that day on, the two of them would be inseparable. There is honestly hardly ever a time when they aren’t together in some way. Hell, you hardly ever have enough mommy-daughter time with her because Enji likes to hog her all to yourself. It takes a lot of convincing and pouting to have Enji give up his daughter and even when you do get her in your arms, he is always somewhere close, looking after the both of you.

Whenever she cries in the early hours of the morning, guess who is by her side in an instant? If you said Enji, then you guessed right. He’s a light sleeper anyways and hearing his daughter cry like that is going to put him on edge so he’ll be by her side in a flash if he so much as hears her hiccup in a way that sounds sad. He’ll stay with her until she falls asleep or will will you up if she needs some milk to drink and lul her back to sleep.

When it comes to changing her diaper, that’s all you. I don’t think Enji can handle cleaning up poopies and pee. He never did it before because he always threw up at the sight and smell of it all so he’ll kindly pass that job onto you.

He isn’t all that good at feeding her either. He always makes a mess of himself and your little girl (I’m going to call her Miho now). He gets frustrated because he can’t get the food to stay on the spoon long enough since the consistency is so watery and it ends up getting all over his hands and shirt and even on his face. With Miho, it’s all over her as well because she thinks it’s a game and tries to match her father with how much food she has all over her face.

FAMILY BATH TIMES! FAMILY BATH TIMES YES!!! Each and every time you all need to get all cleaned up, you take a bath together. It’s honestly the cutest thing ever even though Enji would say otherwise. You would sit on his lap and Miho would sit on your own and you would wash her as Enji just watches. Bath times are always fun yet relaxing and filled with sweet little giggles that come from Miho.

You know how some dads wear that baby chest strap thing? Well Enji wears that too under your orders. Ever since he tried to carry at least 30 grocery bags and your daughter, you forced him to buy and wear the baby strap so that it would lessen the chances of him dropping Miho. He’s not all that happy about wearing it, but he’d be damned to go against your wishes when it comes to the safety of his daughter. Whenever he goes out and he’s on daddy duty, he just plops her right in and goes about his business as if he doesn’t have this pink baby strap on him, covered in ponies and flowers with a baby girl dressed in a pink panda onesie.

He encourages her so much. When she first started doing tummy time he would be on the floor with her, laying flat on his stomach just like she was and just talking to her as if he were talking to any adult.

“You have to lift your head if you want to make it to the top, Miho. It’s simple. Start with your neck and then lean your head back and hold it. With enough will and dedication and training, you’ll pick it up in no time. You’re a Todoroki, after all.”

He brings her to visit he half siblings on a regular basis. It was slightly awkward at first, but eventually everyone really warmed up to her. Natsuo is completely in love with her and often offer to babysit her. His level of protectiveness over her matches that of his father’s (he even has a shirt that says “Miho protection squad”). Fuyumi can’t look at Miho without gushing and crying over her because she’s no happy to finally have a sister! Shouto is fond of her as well but he just has trouble dealing with babies though she seems to want to cling to him the most.

This is getting a little too long so imma just stop here but I live for Enji and his daughter okay?

#boku no hero academia #bnha #enji todoroki #enji todoroki x reader #bnha endeavor #boku no hero academia imagines #bnha imagines #boku no hero #bnha scenarios #bnha writing

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

La Douleur Exquise - Jungkook One Shot

La Douleur Exquise

noun

1. The pain of loving someone that you know you can never have; by circumstance or subjective decision.

Requested: No!

Description: Loving someone is pretty incredible. The world seems rosier, more alive. Even unrequited love can be beautiful, as long as you don’t start wanting more. Y/N and Jungkook have been friends for as long as they could talk, but what happens when Y/N finally decides they’ve finally had enough of keeping their secret feelings secret?

Word Count: 9.4k

Pairing: Jungkook x gender neutral reader

Tags: College!Au, Non-Idol!Au, Unrequited love

Genre: Drama, Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Some cursing, alcohol, lots of angst because I can’t help myself

A/N: Hi you guys! So I’ve decided that since I have loads of free time, I’m going to start posting short pieces between my scheduled postings of The Parting. This is just to give you guys a little taste of the sort of things I can write for you if you want to request anything! If so, please follow the request protocol found here. I’m currently working on the requests I’ve gotten so far, so don’t worry! For those of you who already requested, your stories should be out in the next few days!

“It’s okay,” you said, glancing at your empty hands with a soft, resigned smile. “You don’t have to love me back.”

It had been quite a while since you’d been on campus so late, used to studying either at home or at local coffee shops to stay awake. You almost felt like a kid again. As night encroached, the world had gone hazy with the pastel colors of sunset, lilac clouds turning indigo outside the window beside which you sat, staring down at the quad as the stray students wandered through the grass holding books or bags or lovers’ hands. The classroom was darkening rapidly into shades of blue and the only two souls left in the Humanities building were you and-

“Jungkook!” called a voice from the doorway, flooding yellow fluorescent light into the quiet room. You were wrong. Apparently, there were three souls left in the Humanities building.

You and Jungkook turned, the latter with shock etched into his soft features and brown eyes like saucers, to greet your classmate, sixth-year super-senior Jung Hoseok. He stood blocking the light from the hallway, casting an eerily long shadow across the floor that nearly touched you. You couldn’t help but feel like that shadow was a bad omen somehow…

Jungkook whipped his head back to you and blinked wordlessly, mouth agape. You could have figured as much. He wasn’t the best when it came to unplanned events, and you were certain that his best friend of two decades confessing wasn’t something he’d planned. Hoseok stood watching with crossed arms, brows raised in question.

“Hello? Earth to Jungkook?” he said, waving his arms wildly. “You going to the bus stop or not?”

Jungkook shook his head and held a finger up to silence your classmate. You thought he’d left with the rest of the project group an hour ago, but he’d stuck around doing who knows what. Despite yourself and despite the ache in your chest that you hoped would dissipate after your confession, you chuckled and nodded, hopping off the wide windowsill and clapping your hands. Had the air between you and Jungkook always been so awkward?

You stepped carefully around his stunned body, mindful not to allow your skin to touch, and cleared your throat. “I think he’s broken,” you said with a laugh. “But I’m going that way. Let’s go together.”

Jungkook shook his head and turned around to stare at the two of you, thoughts innumerable running through his mind. It was obvious to anyone looking. He was shell-shocked. “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on, too much is happening all at once,” he said, gripping the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb and squeezing his eyes shut. It was a good thing too, since you were pretty sure he hadn’t blinked once since you’d confessed.

You met his eyes with a patient smile and nodded. “It’s okay, Kook,” you said, your voice a soft breath in the stagnant air. “Don’t feel overwhelmed. If it helps, just forget I said anything at all.”

“Said what? What happened?” asked Hoseok, pointing between the two of you with narrowed eyes.

You laughed and hooked an elbow around his neck, roughing up his hair as you wheeled the two of you out into the hallway. “Nothing, idiot. Read the room a little,” you said in a terse whisper as the two of you rounded the corner, leaving Jungkook standing alone in the twilight-drenched classroom.

“How did it go?”

“Well, I’m here and not off on a date somewhere. How do you think it went?”

Your roommate, Jimin, sat upright on the leather sofa he’d insisted upon buying once he’d graduated and turned to you sharply as you sighed and set your keys on the kitchen table. You hadn’t looked at him as you’d entered the apartment and kicked off your shoes, but now that you caught sight of him your breath escaped in a laugh and you shook your head. With his hair restrained in a cotton headband, he stared at you with wide eyes and nothing else, a panda face in the place where his features used to be. He’d always enjoyed those campy face masks.

“Well what in the fresh hell are you laughing about if you just got rejected?” he asked, though his words were rigid as he hadn’t the usual range of motion in his lips.

You grabbed a can of beer from the fridge and turned back to him. What exactly could you say? You were so used to the sadness that it was no longer sad and had become funny? You’d expected it after such a lengthy unrequited love? You hadn’t even had the confidence to imagine a reality in which he would accept you? Instead of saying anything at all, you simply sighed and collapsed onto the couch beside your roommate, pulling your legs into a criss-cross and leaning back into the cushions.

“What are we watching?” you asked, pointing at the TV which he had paused upon your arrival.

Jimin cleared his throat and adjusted his sweatshirt, sitting straighter. “Hello Counselor,” he said stiffly. “This kid is so obsessed with his plushies that he takes them on vacation.”

You raised your brows and nodded. “Perfect,” you said, pushing the tab on your beer and taking a hearty swig. “I need to be reminded that there are people whose lives suck more than mine.”

He sighed and gave your head a soft push before pressing play. “Don’t be too down on yourself, alright? Jungkook was always an idiot. You could do better.”

You laughed. “You’re right. I’m not gonna lose sleep over an idiot anymore,” you said with a nod and another deep drink of beer. “You got another face mask?”

Jimin nodded and reached across the space between the couch and the coffee table for another one. “I bought an extra for you in case things didn’t go well.”

You laughed as you ripped open the packaging. You supposed things could be worse. Sure, you’d just confessed your feelings to your crush of ten years and received an icy reaction, but at least you still had your friends who cherished you.

And plenty of panda face masks.

God, you thought as you watched him walk into the classroom on Monday morning, is he trying to kill me? Jungkook had emerged from the hallway clad in the outfit you told him you liked best: the white shirt and ripped jeans. He stood in front of the class for a long moment, scanning the rows of desks with a copy of Wuthering Heights in his hand. He’d never wavered before in choosing a seat, always falling easily into the one beside you. Romantic Era Literature was the only class you two had together this semester. Jungkook was a photography major after all, so your courses had little overlap.

Today, however, he looked to be struggling. You sighed and rested your cheek in your hand, setting your eyes low as he finally, begrudgingly, approached and settled beside you. You noted his posture. Where once his shoulders slumped comfortably, now they were perfectly erect. Where once his limbs would be tangled over your desk without a thought, they were now kept neatly in his space. Although it hurt, part of you felt sickly relieved. Perhaps even vindicated.

Because after years of being painfully comfortable, he was finally seeing what it felt like to be so conscious of someone else that it bordered on hyperactive. Just like you had all along.

You glanced at him and offered a smile like always which he returned in a way that was…decidedly not like always. “Mornin’,” you said before resting your cheek on your desk and turning your face away from him.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Did you…have a good weekend?”

You nodded. “Fine.”

“That’s nice,” he said. “Um…about what you said on Friday-,”

You sat upright and placed a hand over his lips. Was it just you, or did his cheeks feel slightly hot against your fingers? “Don’t. I told you to pretend I never said anything, right?” you asked.

He raised his brows. “Do what now? You meant that?”

You nodded and ran a hand through your hair. “I confessed for myself anyway,” you said with a smile. “Just to know I’ve said it once.”

“You…you kept it in for a long time?” he asked, brows knit.

You turned to him, puzzled, and tilted your head to the side. “Kept what in?” you asked.

He blinked at you, warm chestnut eyes scanning your face for a long while. “You really want me to forget it?” he asked, and the way he spoke made your heart sink a little. God, did he sound hopeful.

You smiled. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Kook,” you said, giving his shoulder a pat before resting your head on your desk once again. “Now shut up. I’m trying to nap.”

For a moment there was silence. A profound, thoughtful, pensive silence that droned and sat tangible in the air. You allowed the silence to envelop you like a stiff cotton blanket, itchy and uncomfortable but warm nonetheless. Just as you became accustomed to it, the silence was broken with the bubbling, boisterous laugh of your first real love, Jeon Jungkook. Laughing. Your insides were flipped and your head felt like it was swinging on a pendulum, and he was laughing. You didn’t know what was so funny to him, but as you shut your eyes and settled against the cool surface of your desk, you couldn’t help but find relief in his laughter which continued for a while before petering out into silence once more.

The sun beat down on the top of your head, pounding down on the earth below like an endless heat lamp. You draped yourself over the side of the picnic table at which you sat, cone of ice cream melting in your hands. The humidity was kicking up, and you’d decided today was as good a day as any to head to the pop-up ice cream shop you’d gone to when you were younger. And, upon hearing this idea, Jungkook had conveniently invited himself along.

It had been a week since your failure of a confession, and if you were being honest you were pretty glad things had kind of…phased back to normal. It had taken no time flat for Jungkook to reassume his previous attitude towards you. And you, surprisingly, found it a bit easier to be around him now that you’d finally gotten your feelings off your chest. That sort of thing can really weigh a person down and you’d decided not to regret it.

You were always the decisive one between the two of you. Where Jungkook wavered and flipped between options for fear of making the wrong choice, you stomped fearlessly ahead and stayed your course no matter what. Perhaps that was why Jimin, who had watched you pine after Jungkook since he met you two during your first year of college, hadn’t fought you when you’d told him your plan. Of course, it was destined to fail. What else could have happened when Jungkook had not only shown no interest in you, but had even gone so far as to date a few people who were definitely not you? The relationships never lasted. You often felt guilty for that, wondering if his partners found you troublesome because of your closeness to the stupid boy.

You’d simply been fed up. Fed up with seeing his bright smile and knowing it wasn’t for you. Fed up with how he would run his long fingers through his silky hair and knowing you’d never be able to do it yourself. Fed up with the dumb way he always played around with you without even the slightest idea of how cruel it was. Picking you up like you weighed nothing at all and tossing you over his shoulder, letting you feel just how strong and broad his shoulders were, how toned his back was as your hands dusted across it. Grabbing your hands and swinging them with a charming, rosy pout when he wanted something. Splaying his legs across your lap or wrapping his arms around your waist while you played video games together. Like it was nothing to him.

Like you were nothing to him.

“It’s too hot,” he whined, voice lilting like a child.

You glanced at him and raised your ice cream to your lips. “It’s June, what did you expect?” you asked, growing comfortable beneath the shade of a large tree. Jungkook had elected to sit opposite you, leaving him to bake in the sun.

Well, you supposed things hadn’t completely returned to normal.

He no longer did those things so easily. In fact, it seemed as if he was afraid to even touch you. Like you may break.

Perhaps you would…

Jungkook took a bite of his ice cream, careful not to allow the melting cream to fall on his white shirt. “And you keep wearing that shirt. Don’t you own another one?” you asked, pointing at him with your cone.

He glanced at you and rolled his eyes. “This isn’t the same one,” he said as he grabbed the seam of his oversized sleeve. “Look, this one has navy blue thread.”

“Ah, my sincerest apologies,” you said, laughing. You ran a hand through your hair and sighed lightly, tilting your head to the side. You shut your eyes and willed the sweat beading along your collarbone to dry up somehow.

Jungkook coughed a little, which caused your eyes to snap open. You watched him as he looked away, gaze frenetic as it passed over just about anything but your face. You caught a hint of red blooming across his high cheekbones. You furrowed your brow at him and leaned forward on the old picnic table, letting the wood creak beneath your weight.

“What’s up with you? Did you choke?” you asked with a laugh, scanning his face.

Finally, he met your eyes but it was only for the briefest moment before he continued coughing and looked away from you again. He nodded his head and covered his lips with his free hand, balled into a fist. You laughed and grabbed for the water bottle you’d packed in your backpack, sliding it across the table towards him.

He took it with a nod and downed about half before setting it back down on the table. “Thanks,” he breathed, clutching his chest with his eyes squeezed shut.

You chuckled and grabbed the water bottle once more. “You’re pretty, so it’s okay if you can’t breathe and eat ice cream at the same time,” you teased, to which his eyes opened wide and he stared at you, bewildered.

You cleared your throat and, in an effort to seem nonchalant, grabbed the water bottle that sat halfway between you, pressing the spout against your lips and taking a deep swig. “Whoa!” called Jungkook, grabbing for it and spilling water across the table. “I already drank out of there.”

You raised your brows and wiped the spray off of your shirt with a scoff. “What’s the big deal? We share drinks all the time,” you said, taking another lick of ice cream.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and stowed the rest of the water in his backpack. He glanced away, down towards the park beside where you sat, the children playing easily. He shrugged his shoulders before his posture went poor and he took another large bite of ice cream.

“It’s different.”

You supposed it really was.

“Jimin no,” you said.

“Jimin yes.” Your roommate grinned at you and wiggled his eyebrows.

You sighed and reclined against the kitchen table. “I don’t wanna go to a dumb party and do dumb shots listening to dumb music and-,”

“You’re avoiding it because Jungkook is going, aren’t you?”

You shut your mouth and scratched your arm, glancing towards the refrigerator. You’d never found the collection of polaroids you kept pinned there so fascinating. “Not exactly,” I mumbled.

He laughed and approached, placing a hand on your shoulder and leveling his gaze with yours. “Don’t lie to me, I’m too smart,” he said, laughing.

You met his eyes and sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It’s just…he’s been so weird! It’s been over two weeks now and even though we pretend things are normal, we both know they aren’t,” you said with a shrug. “Why put myself through watching him hook up with girls when I can avoid it? And besides, I don’t want him to have a bad time because of me.”

Jimin sighed, rolling his eyes, and backed away from you. “Can you maybe think a little positively? For, like, two minutes?” he asked.

You groaned and lolled your head to the side, shutting your eyes and screwing your mouth up. “What’s there to be positive about? He’s treating me weird.”

“He’s treating you different,” corrected Jimin, shaking your shoulder and rousing you from your position at the table. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No,” you said as you rubbed an ache at the back of your neck. “Maybe.”

“Well? There you have it.”

You shook him away from you and walked to the couch. “I didn’t think it would make everything different! I just…needed to say it.”

“That’s the thing with words, my dear,” said Jimin, draping his arms over your shoulders from behind the couch. “Once they’re out, you can’t take them back.”

“Wish I could,” you said quietly.

He laughed and gave the side of your head a smack. “We’re going tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a proper house party,” he said, turning on his heel towards the hallway. “And I’m picking an outfit for you that’ll make you look like a saucy babe.”

You gagged. “Please don’t!” you called over your shoulder.

He tossed his head this way and that, pursing his lips. “Or a first-day prostitute.”

“Jimin!”

You had to admit…you were having a bit of fun. Between the alcohol coursing through your veins and the music loud enough to excuse you from any conversation you found tiring, you couldn’t deny that Jimin was right. The party wasn’t so bad. And you hadn’t so much as caught sight of Jungkook since arriving at the large house on the outskirts of the city. The music pumped through you and you felt it in your throat. Without really planning to, you’d found yourself a pretty good dance partner in the middle of the empty living room. With eyes squeezed shut in laughter and his hands occasionally guiding you through the punchy music, Jung Hoseok seemed an altogether different person.

“Say, are you deliberately not graduating so you still have an excuse to go to these parties?” you teased, clutching your cup close to your chest to prevent the precious amber liquid from sloshing onto the floor.

Hoseok peered down at you and laughed. “Caught me,” he said.

You chuckled. You knew from working on the project with him that he’d taken a few years off from college and his dance degree to travel and, even though you’d never have the courage to do it yourself, you thought the action was pretty cool. The song changed from a dance beat to something sultry, something that made your hips sway on their own. You caught Jimin’s eye across the sea of people dancing and found him chatting with a girl who had him backed against a wall. From the way he was looking at you, you could tell he was looking for an out. And as you were about to excuse yourself to help your friend, Hoseok’s hands found your waist and held you in place. You flushed and stared up at him to find him chuckling, leaning closer.

“Hoseok, what-,”

“I just wanna dance,” he said, his breath reeking of liquor.

You stiffened and took a sip of your own drink, glancing away. Your hips stopped moving as your lashes fluttered against your cheeks. Now you were looking for an out yourself. “I think my friend needs me,” you said quietly.

Hoseok chuckled and sighed, releasing you. “Whatever you say,” he said, stretching his hands over his head.

You cleared your throat and slipped between bodies which by then were moving like fluid around each other, following the sensual rhythm of the song. You cursed yourself. Not only was Hoseok handsome and good at dancing, he was pretty fun once you got him talking. Were you so far gone with Jungkook that you couldn’t even entertain the idea of being with someone else? You shook your head and squeezed out of the crowd, into the fray where Jimin stood, stiffly pressed against the wall with a strange girl’s hands on his chest, her lips close to the skin of his neck.

You approached and slipped beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist and offering a pout. “Jiminie,” you whined as he stared down at you, relief clear as if flooded his features. “I missed you.”

The girl, a cute thing shorter than you even in heels with a pretty pin in her hair, turned her eyes to you and raised her brows. “Oh,” she said. “Oh shit, do you have a girlfriend?”

Jimin nodded and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Yeah, I do actually. We live together,” he said, laughing awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

The girl covered her mouth and shook her head at you. “I’m so sorry! He didn’t say anything-,” she began, then shook her head once more. “I-uh, yeah I’ve gotta go…over here.” She turned and, waving over her shoulder, rushed into the pulsing heart of the party.

You sighed and leaned into Jimin’s side. “Why do you always get into so much trouble at these parties?” you asked, pinching his side.

Jimin jumped and quickly released your shoulders. “I don’t know!” he whined, staring down at you with knitted brows. “It’s like I’m catnip to crazy, aggressive college girls.”

You laughed and shoved his stomach slightly. “You’re so stupid.”

“Y/N,” said a voice from behind you.

You turned away from Jimin to see the one person you’d been desperately hoping to avoid. Jeon Jungkook stood looking effortless and handsome in a white button down shirt sitting just one button too open and pants too ripped for his own good. You swallowed and found his eyes once more. But that was even worse than his body. His face was covered in a light sheen of sweat, hair unruly, lips parted. You glanced away entirely. God, drunk you was even more dangerous than sober you…

“Hey, Kook,” said Jimin, clapping his shoulder. “Heard you rejected Y/N.”

“Jimin!” you shouted, giving his chest a hard smack. Even though Jungkook and Jimin were close, without you they wouldn’t be. You were the common link. And Jimin had made it clear on many occasions that if it ever came down to it, he’d choose you over him.

You never wanted him to have to make such a senseless choice.

Jungkook cleared his throat and ran a hand through his wild hair before meeting your eyes. “Um…I kinda…saw you dancing with Hoseok.”

“Classic,” said Jimin, rolling his eyes. “Jungkook, I love you but you’re literally so stupid. Like how can you reject someone and then-,”

“Jimin, do you value your life?” you asked, turning slowly to meet your friend’s eyes.

He coughed into the crook of his elbow and looked away. “I’m gonna…go get some drinks or something. Don’t be dumb!” he said, pointing at Jungkook before wheeling away towards the kitchen.

You sighed and waved your hand. “Ignore him. He’s just…being Jimin.”

Jungkook shook his head. “I don’t care about that,” he said, standing close to you. You could smell his faint cologne. His chest was a large expanse of partially-exposed skin before your eyes as he stood between you and the party. You glanced away and nodded. “Maybe…don’t hang out with Hoseok one-on-one too much, okay?”

Your eyes flashed at this and met his. “Huh?” you asked.

He wouldn’t look at you, focused on something behind your head as he set his lips thin. “He just has a bad reputation. Like, he goes through partners really quickly. You shouldn’t get hurt by someone like that.”

You inhaled sharply, watching the plane of his jaw constrict sharply against his neck, his eyes scanning the wall behind you. You watched the dewy sheen on his skin grow slightly heavier as he stood in the stuffy corner, obscuring you from the view of the rest of the world. You watched him exist, so close, so painfully close. If you reached your fingers out just a few centimeters, you could have touched him.

You shook your head and pushed him gently away from your body, giving yourself some room to breathe. To think. You glanced up and met his eyes. You were sure you were drunk. Too drunk to be talking with the love of your life at a party, that much was certain. And the words that came from your parted lips only proved it.

“You’re too cruel,” you whispered, shaking your head.

His brows raised as he stared down at you. “What?”

You smiled at him, a smile that felt sad on your mouth and bitter like liquor. “You’re really cruel, Jungkook.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head.

You nodded. “Exactly,” you said. “That’s the cruelest part.” You sighed and gave his shoulder a pat as you walked past him. “I’m gonna go dance. Will you hold on to my drink?”

He took the cup from your hands, fingertips brushing and butterflies flying rampant through your stomach. You smiled up at him and waved before disappearing into the thick of the crowd of bodies. The sexy song was still going strong, low notes and drawling pace. Everyone was pressed close together in pairs.

Everyone except for one person.

Hoseok stood dancing alone in the center of the crowd. You approached and, without warning, wrapped your arms about his shoulders, hooking your elbows behind his neck as he stared at you, stunned. After only a moment of surprise, his expression melted into a playful grin and he held you close by the hips, helping you find the rhythm.

“How did things go with the friend?” he asked, lips close to your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine.

You pressed yourself closer and, even though you couldn’t see him standing shocked at the edge of the crowd, you could feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. You smiled and, your partner’s grip tightening on your hips. “They’re settled now,” you said.

The weather was starting to shift, just slightly. Where a few weeks ago there was blistering heat and sunlight strong enough to scorch your skin and melt your popsicle, now there was only a light breeze and a freshness in the air. Autumn was on its way, however slowly it was crawling. You sat in the quad, ankles crossed and head tossed back as you allowed the sunlight to caress your skin. All around you were groups of students, lounging as they enjoyed the long-awaited break in the humid, poor weather. The grass was filled with kids holding books or playing games. You smiled and shut your eyes with a contented sigh.

“Are you even paying attention?” asked Hoseok.

You opened one eye and shrugged. “Sure,” you said.

He sighed and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, what did I just say then?”

You pursed your lips. “You said…I look really good in yellow,” you said, grinning at your big yellow shirt. He sighed and kicked your shin while you laughed, the two of you sharing his blanket.

“Wrong,” he said as he stuck out his tongue. “It’s true though.”

You nodded, shutting your eyes once more and leaning back on your palms. “What were you really saying, Hoseok?” you asked.

He sighed and began talking once more about an essay he’d been putting off. The two of you had grown closer since the party three weeks prior. It seemed he really had just wanted to dance that night and, even though the chemistry you’d hoped might lead to something more only led to a vibrant friendship, it was enough to keep you away from Jungkook. Seeing him in class was hard enough, but now you had a perfect excuse to avoid spending any more time with him than was strictly necessary. You still wanted to see him and do fun things together, but…just not alone anymore.

He’d asked you just an hour before if you wanted to take a walk by the river, to which you’d shaken your head with a wink, not even bothering to mention Hoseok’s name. You had to admit that you got some sick satisfaction in the way Jungkook’s nostrils would flare every time you blew him off to spend time with Hoseok. It was sadistic, but at least he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

“Jesus Christ, you weren’t listening. Again,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You gaped. “I so was! Essay. On…uh…the history of…”

“The history of interpretive dance,” Hoseok supplied, taking a sip of his bubble tea. “I used to think you were hot before I got to know you. You’re literally the worst friend I’ve ever had.”

You smacked his thigh and met his eyes with a glare. “Then why do you hang out with me?”

He thought a moment. “I mean…your roommate is kinda cute so that’s incentive-,”

You cut him off with another loud smack to his thigh. “Don’t perv on my roommate! Have you no decency?” you asked.

He laughed and rubbed the skin where you’d made contact, now growing red. “Hey, that reminds me. Are you guys free this weekend?” he asked.

You raised your brows and examined a cuticle, resting your free hand in the dewy grass. “Dunno. I’ll have to ask Jimin. Why?”

He smiled. “Well, there’s the fair going on in the city. I figured we could all go together.”

“If you’re only inviting me so you can flirt with Jimin then I’m not gonna ask him to go,” you said, eyeing him.

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I’m not that desperate,” he said, then laughed. “Besides, I already have his number.”

You sighed as he stuck his tongue out at you once more. “You’re such a kid,” you commented, before laughing with him. “I’ll see if he’s free.”

“Y/N?”

You turned at the mention of your name and saw jogging towards you with a football in his hand was Jungkook. You sighed and glanced towards Hoseok who, cleverly, seemed to understand the situation wordlessly. He scooted an inch closer to you, resting his hand beside your thigh.

You waved at Jungkook and he smiled at you before glancing to the side to see who was seated beside you. His smile faltered before falling entirely and he met your eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans.”

You gestured broadly with your hands. “Welcome to the plans,” you said with a laugh. “Wanna sit?” You patted the space on Hoseok’s checkered blanket left empty at your side.

He glanced over his shoulder at the boys awaiting his return, and then back towards you. You only offered because you knew what he’d choose. He was competitive and a little immature. He’d always prioritized you just slightly below his newer friends, even if he didn’t know it himself. If you asked him to hang out at your apartment and watch Ghibli movies on the same night his pals from whatever sports team he’d joined asked him to do who-knows-what, he’d always pick the latter without fail. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it, that college was the time to make new connections and find people with whom you shared common interests. You knew he still cared for you. But you also knew that to him…you’d always been constant. So constant in fact that he’d gotten by not making much effort with you because of sheer loyalty — and unrequited, desperate love — alone. This time would be no different, you assumed. You two had been friends so long, perhaps he felt like he didn’t need to do anything to keep you around. You, after all, were someone he never feared losing…

He sighed and gave the football a strong throw, muscles contracting and releasing, before turning his gaze to you with a smile. “Sure,” he said, plopping down beside you.

Your cheeks flamed and your stomach fluttered. This was new indeed. “Um,” you said, unprepared for his reaction. You’d assumed he’d leave like usual…

“What are you two up to?” he asked, giving Hoseok a smile too.

Hoseok stretched his arms above his head and shrugged as they fell to the earth. “Just teasing dear Y/N for being such a shitty listener,” he said, poking your side.

You swatted his hand away and laughed. “I’m not!” you insisted. “You’re just boring.”

Hoseok gaped and a gasp escaped his lips. “How dare!”

Jungkook chuckled. “Y/N is just like that,” he said, glancing at you from above as he leaned back on his palms. “The kind of person who you tell something to, like, a million times and they still forget it.”

“That’s rude!” you called, wagging your finger in his face.

Hoseok laughed. “Ahh,” he exclaimed, grabbing your cheeks and giving them a big squeeze, stretching your face. “Our Y/N is so unreliable.”

You struggled against him, but laughed nonetheless. “Shut up! More reliable than you. How many times did you show up late to our group meetings? Huh? How many?” you asked, taking his cheeks in your hands and stretching as well.

The two of you were locked in this standoff for a moment before Hoseok laughed and broke away first. “Stupid.”

“I hope you stub your toe later,” you said, rolling your eyes and glancing towards Jungkook who was scanning you carefully, brows slightly lowered. “You okay, Kookie?” you asked. He said nothing. “Hello?” you called, waving a hand in front of his face.

He smirked and grabbed your hand in his. “Gotcha,” he said with a laugh.

But as his hand clasped around yours, your heart began to pound audibly in your ears and you blinked rapidly with panic before tearing your hand away and placing it carefully in your lap. You looked away from him, pushing your hair out of your face and clearing your throat.

“Both of you, stop messing with me,” you said, but your voice was quiet, timid, lacking the strength it normally had.

And, when you turned your gaze cautiously upward towards Jungkook, you found his almond-shaped eyes cast far away, a distant, pensive look on his face. You wondered if you’d ever really seen that expression. After years thinking you knew everything about him…

“Hoseok, so help me if you make me go on one more roller coaster-,” began Jimin as he held tightly onto your arm, swaying from the queasiness.

Hoseok laughed and hooked an elbow around your neck, taking up your other side. “You know you had fun,” he teased.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Fun would be eating an entire funnel cake on my own,” he said, then sighed.

The three of you cruised through the crowd which pulsed on either side of you, the sun setting into navy dusk overhead. Mostly families and groups of high school kids, the fair patrons caused a racket all around the grounds. You and Jimin had unintentionally fallen into Hoseok’s pace as the evening had worn on, following him around on the scariest rides, watching him lose at all the fair games until one of you had to step in to keep him from spending all his money, helping him calm down when he jumped out of his skin at one of the fair mascots who’d approached him too suddenly. And you’d laughed. You’d had a wonderful time, really.

Really.

But…something was missing. As you glanced around the walkway rimmed on both edges by booth games and pop-up shops illuminated by yellow light, you couldn’t help but think there was someone you knew who would love it the most. Between the adrenaline-pumping rides shooting you into the sky before plummeting you to the earth, the pretty paper lanterns hanging on strings above your heads, the snacks that were more grease than food, and the challenging games with massive plush prizes, you knew how much Jungkook would have enjoyed it. Your best friend was missing. Normally, you’d have come here with him. You’d have wandered around aimlessly, arms brushing now and again, sharing cotton candy. Perhaps one of the booth workers would have confused you two for a couple and teased Jungkook. Perhaps he would have laughed and, like always, gently corrected the misunderstanding.

But you’d ruined it all. You had neither a boyfriend or a best friend. You’d gambled and lost both. And now you had to stand and watch couples so sickeningly in love that it made you want to cry. Locked fingers, warm gazes, soft voices, and warm embraces. You’d longed for it for so long, seeing things like that while walking with Jungkook, thinking that a secret one-sided love was the most painful of all.

But you were wrong.

Unrequited love wasn’t the problem. It was love that, despite being known to both parties, remained unrequited.

You smiled sadly at your hands as Hoseok adjusted his lazy hold on your shoulders and Jimin staggered to the side, holding onto the side of a wooden ring-toss booth as he regained his balance. You exhaled slowly, watching the trampled grass below your feet.

“You’re sighing a lot,” said Hoseok with a hum, leaning towards your ear to blow in it, sending a ticklish chill down your spine.

You gasped and, through laughter, gave him a shove. “Jesus! Don’t do that,” you said, shaking your head.

Hoseok laughed with you until something behind your head caught his attention. For a moment, he stared at whatever had seized him. Then he glanced down at you and, offering a bright smile, placed both his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. He squeezed the sides of your face, causing your flesh to bunch up.

“Don’t be so sad,” he said. “I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”

You struggled to open your mouth with your cheeks pressed so firmly, but when you could the first thing you did was sigh. “Hoseok, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He gave you a wink and shook your face a little. “Your roommate told me. About your crush. Although I could’ve guessed myself.”

You gaped and shook Hoseok’s hands off your face. You turned to Jimin who, still struggling beside you, glanced your way with round, innocent eyes. You gave his arm a firm smack and he whined. But you gave him another shove, crossing your arms once you’d finished.

“What?!” he yelled. “Did I do something wrong? Everyone knows anyway!”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, turning on your heel to resume your conversation with Hoseok. But halfway through your movement, something caught your eye down the alley of booths. You realized then what Hoseok had seen over your shoulder. Just a few paces away, dark hair quaffed out of his face and eyes glittering in the soft yellow light, stood Jungkook. And he was wearing that goddamn white shirt again.

You furrowed your brow at him as a few guys approached from his sides and grabbed his attention. Along with…a very pretty girl. Long dark hair, dressed prettily in a nice blouse that complimented her skin tone, pristine makeup, eyes set solely on Jungkook’s horribly handsome face.

You stiffened and raised one weak hand to wave at him. He returned the gesture, but it was almost forced. You set your lips and watched the pretty girl grab onto his arm, holding it close to her chest. Jungkook, startled by the sudden contact, jumped slightly and looked down at her with wide eyes. Gently, she pointed a pretty finger towards the game in front of her, throwing in a bright, charming smile for good measure. Jungkook followed where she’d pointed and raised his brows. You couldn’t hear, but the two began talking.

Your heart ached and you turned away, back towards Hoseok. “I think your feeling was wrong. Maybe a career in fortune telling isn’t for you,” you said with a laugh that you thought might become a cry.

He met your eyes with a sad smile and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Hey, don’t mind it, alright?” he said.

You grinned. “My specialty, unfortunately,” you said, patting his hand. “Let’s go on the ferris wheel.”

The two of you stood in line side-by-side, approaching the front as the night sky darkened measure by measure. Jimin had become rather motion sick and decided to sit this particular adventure, and any subsequent moving machines, out on the sidelines. You could no longer see him sitting on a bench by himself, drinking ginger ale with a straw, under-eyes dark with shades of blue and purple.

You sighed and played with your hands. You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Jungkook’s arm, arrested in that beautiful girl’s grip. His expression when she’d pointed to the booth. Maybe he’d won her a nice prize. Maybe this was a sort of first date. Jungkook was pretty shy when it came to dating, so his friends could have been there to keep things from getting awkward-

“Y/N,” said Hoseok, poking your forehead between your eyebrows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep this up.”

You met his eyes and blinked. “Huh? Sorry, I was-,”

“You were thinking about it,” he said, then frowned at you. “I told you not to do that.”

You laughed and nodded. “Sorry.”

“Listen, if that Jung-kid or whatever doesn’t see that you’re a great person, then he doesn’t deserve to date you,” he said, nodding resolutely.

“I tell myself that,” you said. “But…I dunno, after so many years you kinda have to think it’s not a him problem, but a me problem.”

Hoseok sighed. “Being negative doesn’t suit you,” he said. “Jimin said you’re stupidly optimistic.”

You scoffed. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s him,” you said, then peeked up at Hoseok with a smirk. “But, come to think of it…you two have been talking a lot lately.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “You’re right about one thing,” he said. “He is stupid.” He grabbed your arm and hooked it through his own, patting the top of your hand. “I wanted to spend some time with him tonight, but he’s such a wimp, getting sick after just a few rides.”

You laughed. “He’s like that,” you said. “If you wanna date him, you’re gonna have to get used to caring for a child.”

The line moved forward, leaving you and Hoseok at the front. You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder. “Hoseok…boys are dumb,” you said quietly.

He laughed and nodded his head, watching the top of the ferris wheel as it pierced the sky. “Sure are.”

“Next!” called the worker, waving you forward with his hand, not even bothering to look at you as the two of you approached the ferris wheel.

Hoseok smiled and held your hand as you stepped inside the big wobbly box first. “Careful,” he said as you stumbled slightly before settling into your seat.

You patted the space beside you as he lifted a foot to step inside himself, but as his toe touched the metal bottom, he reared back as if pulled by the shoulders from behind and, in his place, a familiar face came into view in your cage-like box. Your eyes grew wide as Jungkook settled on the bench beside you, swinging the door shut behind him as the ride began moving. You gasped and looked over the open sides as Hoseok’s stunned form grew smaller, your hands gripping the edge as your mouth fell slack.

“I…I need to talk to you,” said Jungkook in a small voice.

You turned to him gaping. “You have my number!” you shouted. “Jesus, you could’ve given me a heart attack.”

“At your age?” he asked with a smile. You didn’t return it, still fuming with crossed arms, and he quickly righted himself with a cough into the crook of his elbow. “Um…I…”

“You what?”

He sighed. “Well, aren’t you supposed to like me or something?” he asked, looking at you with furrowed brows.

Your back went stiff and you scoffed. “W-What? So? Am I not allowed to hang out with Hoseok then?”

“Not when you like someone else!”

“Who are you that you think I’ll just…like you forever?!” you yelled, throwing your hands up. “Besides, you looked pretty cozy with that girl.”

“That…girl?” he asked, glancing away as he thought. “God, Sana? Do you mean Sana?”

You shrugged. “How would I know?”

He scoffed and leaned back, crossing his arms. “Jealous?”

“Of course I am, you idiot!” you shouted, shaking your head as you looked to the side. You were halfway to the top and it felt like an eternity already. “You said it yourself. I like you.”

He blinked at you quietly for a moment, the stars overhead reflecting in his perfectly dark eyes. “S-Still?”

“Are you dumb?” you asked. “I’ve liked you for years, is that just gonna disappear in a few weeks?”

“Then…Hoseok?” he asked.

You glanced at him before huffing and shrugging your shoulders. “Just a friend,” you said, then sighed. “He’s got a thing for Jimin anyway.”

Jungkook sat quietly for a moment, then nodded his head. “Huh.”

“Well what about that Sana girl then? Why was she holding onto you like that?” you asked, and without meaning to a pout found your lips.

He shook his head. “Don’t you remember her from when we were younger? My cousin? She lives in Busan?”

You sat upright and stared at him with wide eyes. “C-Cousin?”

He sighed. “Yeah. She’s visiting so I took her out with some friends.”

“Oh…,” you said. The two of you sat in an awkward, endless silence.

The sky was darker, with only a small orb of sunlight left in the west. The late summer winds tossed Jungkook’s hair around delicately, brushing it off his forehead as he stared at the setting sun. There was an air of shyness you weren’t used to, as if both of you had unwittingly revealed your trump cards to one another and were left to sit in the quiet aftermath. You peeked at him and sighed as you looked at his shirt, clinging to his biceps as he sat with his arms crossed.

You reached out and tugged at it, frustration seeping into you. “Why do you keep wearing this? Are you doing it on purpose?” you asked, your voice raising. “It’s like…ugh, it’s like you know exactly what to do to shake me up but you don’t even know you’re doing it! Do you know how frustrating it’s been? Liking you so much for so long? Having to sit with you and pretend I didn’t? Watching you chase after other people? Going home with you and listening to your parents praise me while you space off? Looking at you wearing white shirt after white shirt after white shirt when I told you I like how you look in them?!” You felt tears rising in your eyes and your throat became tight. You shook your head. “Have you ever even considered me? Even once?”

He stared down at you, at your hand knotted in the soft fabric of his shirt, and then back at your eyes. You sniffled and glanced away, but as you reached the top, the ferris wheel jerked slightly, sending you falling forward. If you hadn’t caught yourself, you’d have face-planted his lap. But as you glanced up, captured between his thighs, sitting on your knees, you almost wished you would have. His eyes were burning and bright, staring at you from above with parted lips. Gently, he pressed a cool hand against your warm cheek and smoothed his fingers over your skin. Your heart began to race, but you begged it to stop. You’d been down this road before. But the way he touched you felt so tender, so gentle.

He blinked at you slowly and you, eyes level with his chest, let a few stray tears fall onto the tops of his knees. “I didn’t,” he said.

Your brows raised. “Huh?”

“I didn’t consider you,” he said, then shook his head. “But now I feel like you’re all I consider.”

You felt flush, your head going fuzzy, as you watched his expression soften. “You…what?”

“I don’t know either,” he said with a quiet laugh, more of an exhale. “Why do I want to shake you up? Why do I get so mad when I see you with other guys? Why do I want to take your hand and keep you to myself?”

You swallowed and shook your head. “Don’t say that,” you said.

He took your chin in his fingers and guided your eyes back to his. “Why do I get nervous around you? Why do I think about kissing you so much?”

“Please don’t say it unless you mean it,” you said, voice a begging, desperate whisper. “I told you to forget I said anything-,”

“What if I don’t want to forget it?”

Your eyes went wide and you traced the fine lines of his chest and neck to his face. “What?”

He nodded and tilted his head down slightly. Unconsciously, you pushed yourself up on your legs as his face loomed nearer. His nose brushed yours before he shut his eyes and you, still shocked, simply gazed at him. You’d never imagined seeing him so close. Every small detail, every tiny freckle, every smooth expanse of skin on his face…you could see it all. You felt his lips brush against yours and your eyes snapped shut. Anticipation had your hands shaking as they sat pressed palms-down on the bench between his legs.

Softly, he pressed his lips against yours. It was almost uncertain, timid. His hand on your chin moved slowly to the back of your neck as he gained momentum, holding you in place. Smoothly, he tilted his head to the other side. White-hot butterflies flew through your stomach with every subtle movement, and as his lips parted against yours you brought your arms up to hook behind his neck. His free hand slid against your side and fell to your lower back where it sat, gentle, undemanding. Slowly he pulled away but before you could even open your eyes, his lips were upon you again, pressed firmly now against yours as he deepened the kiss. His kiss was hotter now, needier. His hand fell from behind your neck to join his other hand on your back, both of them smoothing over your sides as if he was desperate to touch you. You were just as frenzied, hands moving against the warm skin of his neck, sliding across his chest.

You felt him exhale against you, a breathy hum, as he broke away and trailed slow kisses against your cheek to your jawline. He pressed pecks against your skin before reaching the space between your jaw and your ear. The breath from his nose caused your body to wiggle and you couldn’t help the jittery laugh the escaped you. He pulled away and stared down at you with wide eyes, as if he’d surprised even himself.

“I-,” you began.

But he only looked at you for a moment before placing both his hands on your cheeks and pulling you in for another sweet, delicate kiss. You gasped as he pressed his lips against yours once more before pulling away to look at you properly, his fingers rubbing against your cheeks as a bright smile fought its way onto his face.

“You’re so red,” he said, laughing slightly.

You swatted his hands away and crawled up to sit beside him. “You surprised me.”

He smiled at his lap and laughed. “I’m sorry. Did you not like it?” he asked.

You flushed and shrugged your shoulders. “I…liked it.”

Silently, he slid his hand onto the top of your knee and grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers. Your heart pounded. You’d never even allowed yourself to dream of something like this happening for real. It was too painful to imagine it knowing it would never become reality. But you could feel his hand in yours, hear him breathing so close beside you, feel the traces of heat his lips had left behind.

“I’m sorry for pretending nothing happened,” he said quietly.

You shook your head. “I’m sorry I’ve been acting so weird lately.”

He laughed. “You have an excuse at least,” he said, then sighed. “I was just…stunned. For a while, really. I guess I never really considered that you’d have feelings for me. It wasn’t really on my radar.”

“I’m a good actor then,” you said with a laugh.

He joined you and squeezed your hand. “You were,” he said. “I never would’ve guessed. But I think…deep down I always kind of had a thing for you. Whenever someone would confess to you I’d always get kinda mad, you know? Even though you turned them down.”

“You’d always complain about it when I’d tell you. You said that guys are scary and I shouldn’t trust them,” you said, rolling your eyes. “The way I see it, you’re the scariest of all of them.”

He bumped your shoulder as the ferris wheel began descending again. “I never thought about it. About what it meant,” he said with a sigh. “I let you go through it all on your own when I could have been there for you.”

“You couldn’t have,” you said, laughing. “Trust me, I would have been mortified if you knew any sooner.”

He shrugged. “I guess you confessing was the shock I needed to finally think about it seriously. Think about…you seriously.”

You flushed and glanced at your interlocked hands sitting atop your knee. This was real. The fresh air, the sky, the distant sounds of the fair: all of it was evidence that this moment was reality. You smiled. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses.”

He shoved you slightly with a laugh. “Me too,” he began, then furrowed his brow and pouted at you. “But I’m kind of mad,” he said.

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, outlined by the lightening moon. “Why?”

“We could have been doing that for years,” he said, sighing. “It feels like a waste.”

You rolled your eyes and placed a peck quickly against his cheek. He turned to you with a bright smile and shocked gaze, laughing. “We’ll just make up for it then.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your cheek before slowly making his way to your lips, using his free hand to hold your face softly. The kiss was slow, unhurried and without urgency. You two had all the time in the world, after all. He inhaled as he pulled away and grinned at you, face still close to yours, before pulling back and kissing the side of your head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you leaned against him.

“Jimin’s gonna freak out,” you said quietly into the night air.

Jungkook laughed and nodded. “Now my mom can finally stop nagging me about asking you out.”

You peered at him from below. “You still haven’t, you know,” you began, then smiled. “Asked me out, I mean.”

He scoffed. “Then do I just kiss anyone?” he asked.

You shrugged and pursed your lips. “How would I know?”

He shook your shoulders and laughed. “Will you date me then?”

You tilted your head to the side. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Hey!”

“Check my schedule.”

“Stop it!”

“I have many suitors you know.”

“Y/N!” he yelled, staring down at you with wide eyes.

You laughed and nodded. “Of course I’ll date you, you big dork,” you said, beaming at the boy, the unrequited love that had been requited all along.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts imagines #bangtan #bts fluff #bts angst #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #bts college au #jungkook college au #bts scenarios #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts one shot #bts reader insert

[winetae]

⇾ tessellate 02

⇁ hoseok x female reader x jungkook

⇁ smut, slight angst || fuckboi!au

⇁ public sex, exhibitionist themes, angsty sex;

⇁ 10.1k

. . .

“ Triangles are my favorite shape Three points where two lines meet.” (tessellate)

Triangles are supposed to be the strongest and most stable of all geometric shapes. You wonder how true this statement is if applied to real life situations. The way you see it: triangles aren’t a reliable structure for relationships, especially if the parties you’re involved with find commitment to be a foreign concept.

↳ or : a fuckboy’s guide to polyamory

⇀ start | 01 | 02

.

.

Your life is a mess — figuratively and literally. Empty coffee cups fill up your wastebasket; messy notes are strewn across your desk. Your sheets are in desperate need of washing — not that you can bring yourself to care when you’ve been falling asleep at your desk for the last three days. 

Sleep itself has become a foreign concept. Cup ramen and dry shampoo are now your trusted best friends. Although you do require ten different alarms on your phone to make sure you don’t miss class, your body miraculously manages to function properly enough for you to trudge through the week more or less unscathed. 

The past week in question is a blur; one never-ending, miserable routine that starts and ends with schoolwork. When your days aren’t eaten away by your part-time job and classes, you spend the rest of your time cram studying in cafes or finishing off your semester project in one of the available art studios on campus. You’re too caught up with your mountain-high pile of workload to dwell on any relationship troubles, especially when finals are knocking at your door, ready to promptly drag you down to your grave. 

"Rough night?" 

One of the only classmates you’re acquainted with, Joo, slinks into the chair beside yours, her leather messenger bag dropping to the floor with an audible thud. The familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts under your nose, and your sleep-deprived eyes are immediately drawn to the venti-sized cup she nurses in her hands. Your stomach growls — a loud reminder that you’ve been living off nothing but shots of caffeine and instant noodles.

"Is it that obvious?" You cover the undersides of your eyes self-consciously with your sleeve-covered hands. 

Has your concealer worn off already? The drugstore brand isn’t renowned for being long-lasting but it should, at the minimum, last longer than an hour… What the hell? You had been relying on the product to make you look somewhat human. You grown inwardly, already imagining how frightening you must look with your panda eyes and greasy hair haphazardly tied into a poorly put together bun. You make a mental note to stay away from the sight of your reflection only because you want to spare your eyes the pain.

Your clothes don’t help your case, either — the wrinkled hoodie that dwarfs your form makes you look like an unidentifiable blob who has been living in the same outfit for the past week...which, admittedly, wouldn’t be too far from the truth. You’re sure anyone who takes one glimpse in your direction would think you’ve given up on looking like a normal human being. Between the fight with Hoseok and finals looming over your head like a dark cloud, you’ve been neglecting to take care of yourself properly. And, in all honesty, you would rather sleep an extra fifteen minutes than get up to apply a layer of makeup.

"Don't worry, you don't look worse than anyone else here..." She gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder after noticing your gloomy expression.

A cursory glance around the room confirms Joo’s statement. Her words, however, fail to cheer you up. To know that you’re not worse off than the rest of your classmates is not the most comforting piece of information. A sea of red-rimmed eyes, sunken expressions and grayish complexions surrounds you; it’s a sight you would expect to see in post-apocalyptic movies, not in a 10 am painting class. 

"I stayed up until four finishing the damned thing. Thank God for coffee, right?" ” Joo’s lips curl into a frown as she pulls out her essay from her overstuffed bag. She curses under her breath when she notices the front page is dogeared and runs a hand over it in an attempt to flatten it out.

"Yeah.... I haven't been able to sleep much. I wish Professor Park would give us some slack.”

"Him? Give us a break? Yeah, right. He gets off watching us suffer. Why else would he give us this much work before finals? Fuckin' sadist.” She leans forward to press down harder, face contorted in a frown. “He can't wait to see us breakdown from the stress alone." Finally, she kicks one of the legs of the chair in front of her and slumps in her seat, apparently having given up on fixing the crease that mars the cover of her assignment.

Right on cue, the door slides open, and she peeks though her fingers, probably expecting Park to storm in right then. Her tense shoulders relax when the last students shuffle in instead of Park. She waves one of her friends over to the vacant chair next to her, her expression perking up.

You don’t recognize her friend, but, then again, you’re disgustingly bad at remembering faces. If Joo hadn’t struck up a conversation with you several weeks ago, you probably wouldn’t remember her, either. Your eyes stay peeled on her approaching form, partly out of secret admiration; unlike the rest of the zombie lookalikes in the class, her skin glows and her hair is perfectly sleek and shiny (the shampoo-advertisement glossy perfection you see on TV, not the gross kind of oily).

"You lot look like you've gone to hell and back again." The tall girl says in lieu of greeting, turning up her nose at the sight of the two of you. The look that crosses her face suggests she’s accidentally planted her heeled boot smack dab in a pile of cow dung… It does wonders for your ego. 

"That's 'cos we have.” Joo grumbles behind the rim of her cup of coffee. “Did you forget the 12 page essay due today?" 

"I'm more surprised you remembered. You're so unorganized, it’s a wonder you get any assignments done on time. It stresses me out every time I see you write your homework down on your hand. You can’t keep living this way… It’s April and you still don’t own a fucking planner!”

"Yeah yeah, whatever, mom. I'm not the only one who looks like death. Why don't you scold ____, too?"

You freeze up as they both turn to look at you, feeling the weight of their stares sweep over you.

The look Tall Girl appraises you with makes you flatten the top of your hair in a half-assed attempt to look more presentable. You don’t need confirmation of your repulsiveness when you're already all too aware that your tangled and knotted tendrils look like an open invitation for birds to come make their nest atop your head.

"I overslept today, s'all, didn’t have time to brush my hair," you mumble intelligibly between your teeth. You tug the sleeves of your sweater further down so that your fists are covered in the soft fabric, silently wishing that the ground would choose this exact moment to swallow you whole.

"It's cool that you're so confident in your appearance. I think if I dated someone so handsome, I would worry a lot more,” she says, leaning forward on her elbows to get a good look at you. You’re running dangerously low on sleep and patience which is why the mention of Hoseok instantly puts you in a crappy mood.

"Not everyone is that superficial, Lin. Exams are next week. Only you would care enough to get a Brazilian blowout four days before exams start." Joo forces out a laugh, trying to dispel the silent tension that had inched its way into the conversation. “Lin is a bit of bitch, don’t take it personally.”

“We all have our faults,” she shrugs, unbothered. “I’m a superficial, materialistic bitch — the kind trophy wives aspire to be. But at least I’m upfront about it. Say what you want, but I’m not the worse of the batch… Some people don’t have any morals.”

“You have morals? I’m surprised that you have a soul,” Joo snickers, earning an eye roll.

“Some things just go against my principles. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing UGG boots, for example. Not even if you paid me to.” You can’t help but look down at her outfit — the sparkly pink ensemble looks straight out of the set of Scream Queens. “I only smoke weed on weekends and I don’t kiss boys who are taken.”

Mr. Park chooses that moment to enter the classroom, and you silently thank him for the save. You’re not sure what you could have replied to that, anyway. This is why you try not to interact with anyone, you think to yourself.

As the voice of your professor drones on, going over the study material for the nth time this week, your mind unwilling drifts back to Hoseok, prompted by Lin’s words.

It’s not like you’re actively thinking of him every second of every day. The God honest truth is that you’re trying your best not to let yourself be consumed by thoughts of him. For the most part, your method works well. You’ve got so much to juggle on your plate at the moment that your romantic woes are on the bottom of your growing list of concerns. Yet there are inevitable times when you’re forced to acknowledge the jumbled feelings you haven’t been able to sort out since the night you walked out on him.

Now being a prime example.

Lin’s words bring you back to last week’s fight, the incriminating messages found on his phone and his refusal to explain himself. You still have no clue what you should make of it. Your experience is limited; none of your past relationships have ever been this complicated or dramatic. The entire situation makes your heart clench with anxiety. Bubbling panic brews in the pit of your stomach when your thoughts linger on this subject too long.

Avoiding Hoseok will only postpone confrontation but you would rather battle one fight at a time. Finals are the most important. That’s what you tell yourself anyway, trying to justify your actions when you refuse to call him back after he leaves yet another voicemail.

Mina [10:21 am] you owe me lunch

Mina [10:21 am] it’s been a week

Oh, right… Mina had ordered you a cheese pizza last week when you refused to come out of your room. You had promised to pay her back, only to eventually forget. 

You glance ahead, trying to type your reply back as surreptitiously as possible.

Mina [10:22 am] pls feed me today

Mina [10:22 am] i’m broke af rn. my paycheck doesn’t come until the end of the month

You [10: 24 am] okay, fine. meet up for coffee at 12?

Mina [10:24 am] yes!!! I love you <33

Mina [10:25 am] is now a good time to tell u I finished your apple pie this morning

You [10:25 am] !!!!!!

You [10:26 am] I fucking hate you

Mina [10:28 am] sorry :-( will do your laundry for a week

You type back the last message with more force than necessary, a frown marring your features.

A voice interrupts your internal monologue, “Miss ______.”

The call of your name makes your head snap up, your wide eyes meeting the stern gaze of your professor. Although you feel like a deer in headlights, you try to mask your dread with a look of innocence. Several students have turned around to glance at you, and your cherry cheeks burn under the scrutiny.

“Yes?” Your response comes out as a nervous squeak, the sound betraying you. As you clear your throat with a loud cough, the hand that grips your phone under the table trembles.

Park heaves a sigh, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. “Please come see me after class.” The expression etched on his face informs you that whatever discussion he wishes to have with you will most likely not bode well for your future.  

“Yes, sir,” comes your meek reply.

Joo shoots you a sympathetic smile you weakly reciprocate.

It seems like your week from hell can get worse, you despair, holding back a groan. Stress eats away at you and you find it impossible to concentrate on the lesson when your thoughts cycle between Hoseok, your professor, and how your life just monumentally sucks. 

When class is finally dismissed, your shoulders sag with the weight of your accumulated troubles. You plod on over to your teacher’s desk, your apprehension visible on your face. 

“Your essay on George Seurat and Neo-Impressionism you handed in last week was, quite frankly, a disappointment,” is what he says once the last students have cleared out. 

Your stomach drops and you think you’re about to feel sick. Being told you’re failing class is not on the list of words you want to hear, now or ever. Back in high school, your work was always highly praised with a stellar grade to prove it, but you feel like your luck is about to change. 

“This isn’t the first month of college anymore. We’re almost at the end of the year, so I expect more from you. If you turn in something like that on the day of the final exam… Don’t expect a passing grade. I’m telling you this because I know that you’re capable of doing better.” 

He hands you your paper, red scribbles smirching the entirety of the first page. You take it back gingerly, afraid to read through all of your teacher’s commentary. Clutching your paper to your chest like a shield, you brace yourself for further criticism. 

“The factual content on the color theory is not false but your explanations are muddled and clumsy. If you follow the methodology we went over in class, you wouldn’t be having this problem. You seem distracted lately, and today was not an exception.” You respond to the pointed look he aims at you with a sheepish expression. 

“You don’t have a lot of time left, so make sure to straighten out your priorities. You have to get yourself back in the game, _____. Don’t lose focus of the objective now! You don’t want to see me next year again, alright?” The small smile he gives you makes you nod automatically. You thank him and promise him that you’ll try harder.

Outside, Joo looks up from her phone when you finally come out of the classroom. Lin stands behind her, inspecting her nails with a bored look plastered on her face. “So, how did it go?”

“Oh...it went fine. He’s not as scary as he looks,” you force out a smile, feeling a little dead inside. There’s a head-splitting ringing in your ears that makes your vision spin — almost as if someone has just hammered you over the head.  “He just wanted to go over the essay we turned in last week.”

“Cheer up,” she pats your shoulder awkwardly, your hand falling back to her side. “We’re going to work on our paintings this afternoon in Studio B. You should come too, if you’re not busy.”

“Yeah, okay.” The corners of your lips hurt, but you continue smiling. 

Your body moves on autopilot for the rest of the day — your feet two lead weights you drag across the floor to your next class. The only thing you look forward to is your lunch date with Mina. You’re so down that you don’t mind spending an extra ten bucks on sweets because you’re in serious need of a pick-me-up. 

The café you usually study in is packed; tables all around you are taken up by the MacBooks of students. You manage to find a seat in the very back, next to a lady in her seventies feeding her Chihuahua the crumbs of her cookie. There is not much elbow room, but Mina somehow manages to fit the tray of Danish pastries and her plate of Black Forest cake on the small table. 

She doesn’t waste a second — her fork attacking the desserts like a woman possessed.

“You aren’t getting that?” she mouths around a bite of Spandauer.

Your phone buzzes four more times on the table, a selfie of Hoseok with his older sister's dog you’ve set as your lockscreen staring up at you.

'Two Missed Calls from Hoseok' your phone alerts you, making your roommate raise an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction.

You choose to ignore both the call and the look she aims at you, your face schooled in a mask of nonchalance. “Hm? It can wait. I’d rather spend my time with you.”

“How sweet,” she says, not without her suspicions. “It's fine, you can answer. It might be important, you never know... And please.” She rolls her eyes. "Don't say that when it’s never stopped you before.”

“Ha ha," you say drily, cursing how she's able to see right through you. "Is it so hard to believe it when I say I would rather talk to you? It's been a while since we've spent time together.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you would rather be sucking Hoseok’s meat stick. Not that I blame you… I’d suck that dry if I could. Not that I would since you’re dating him but y’know. I’m getting pretty desperate... I’m this close to letting Dandruff Dan take me on a date. Don’t look at me like that! You don’t know what it’s like, okay? My vagina hasn’t had any action in so long, it’s starting to feel dusty.”

Next to you, an old lady splutters into her coffee cup, shocked no doubt by the vulgarity of today’s youth. One look at the scandalized expression carved on her face and you don’t know whether to laugh or to feel embarrassed. A nervous, strangled giggle leaves your mouth before you can stop it, earning you another glare. You’re thankful at least Mina has the decency to mouth her apology while handing the elderly woman a stack of paper napkins.

“I’d love for her to have a chat with my gran,” Mina says under her breath after making sure the white-haired woman could no longer overhear your discussion. “She used to be a groupie and followed rock stars around from city to city. If you knew the stuff she did… Makes pornos look tame. Ah, I really miss her… She’d be so disappointed in me if she knew I haven’t had dick in over six months...”

She takes another bite of cake, looking thoughtful. "Are you sure Jimin isn't down to mingle?"

"Dunno..." You twirl your stripped straw around your smoothie, refusing to think about Jimin. Jimin makes you think of Hoseok, and Hoseok is a problem you can't bring yourself to solve.  "Haven't seen him around much lately."

You've never interacted much before, but now that you're giving Hoseok the silent treatment, you're hell bent on avoiding any of his friends as well.

"What's going on? I can tell something's up. You've been biting your straw non-stop since we sat down and just look at your nails." You look down, finally taking notice of the tragic state of your nails, uneven with chips of fading blue nail polish still coloring your thumbs. "And it's not like you to blow off Hoseok twice in a row like that."

"Just, you know...  Stupid stuff."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you. You can tell me what's wrong, if you want. I'm not the best at giving advice, but I don't like seeing you like," she waves a hand around at your face, "this. You look like…”

“Death came knocking at your door this morning," she supplies with a grimace. "Jesus, when was the last time you took a shower? Seriously… What's bothering you so much? Is it Hoseok? Did you guys finally have a fight?"

"Finally? What is that supposed to mean?”

"Well, yeah. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

"Wait, what? You aren’t surprised?”

“Honestly?” Hesitation crosses her features as she mulls over her words. The beat of silence speaks volumes and gives you your answer before she finally speaks again. “Not really. What happened exactly?"

"I found some weird pictures on his phone. This girl he's been talking to sends him semi-nudes."

Mina shoots you an apologetic look. “I’ve always thought relationships built on sex don’t last long. Don’t take offense, okay? But all you two do is fuck. Any of your interactions involve getting each other off some way or another. I’m not saying that he should take you out to a fancy restaurant or anything, but... Do you guys even talk? What do you guys even do?”

“We do talk!” You’re quick to argue, used to defending yourself from accusations. “We text each other and we call each other when we can. Both of us are really busy right now, that’s why we haven’t been able to spend time with each other as much as I would’ve liked...”

“Okay...” She smiles, unconvinced. “And what do you guys talk about exactly?”

“Just, like...normal, mundane stuff. How our day went, what we’re having for dinner. But we’ve never argued before this...”

“So...superficial talk. You could have the same conversations with anyone else, am I right? And what do you even know about him? What’s his favorite color?”

“We don’t have to know everything about each other,” you argue. “We just started dating! You can’t expect us to know every single, little thing about each other. And, besides, I don’t know much about you, either, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t close.  Knowing or not knowing his favorite color shouldn’t be a reason enough to be with him or not.”

“It was an example, gosh. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t see what’s changed between now and the time you guys were just casually fucking. Like, cool, he calls you his girlfriend now, but what does it matter if he’s off wetting his dick whenever you’re too busy to let him come by.”

“I don’t know about that. He did say that he didn’t get with her since he started dating me... I shouldn’t care about who he’s been with before that.”

“You actually believe that excuse?” Mina lets out an unattractive snort. Stabbing a fork into her slice of chocolate cake with more force than necessary, she scoops out a huge mouthful that she somehow manages to swallow in one bite. “Honey, he could at least try to sound a little more convincing. He got that straight from a 'How to be a fuckboy' manual.”

"Hoseok isn't like his friends," you insist, stubbornly.

"Sure, sure. Take off your rose covered lenses for a second and hear me out. Birds of a feather flock together. Even if he's not as bad as his fuckboy posse, he can't be squeaky clean either. He and his friends name themselves the Pussy Terminators... Not only is that cringe as fuck, it's also a quite telling."

"I think Hoseok mentioned Jimin was the one who came up with that..." you add as an afterthought.

"That's not the point here! The point is, those types of guys are good for a fuck, and that's it. I'm glad things were working well with Hoseok, but I also don't want you to get hurt. So talk it out, listen to what he has to say, but don't let him play you like the naive freshman he might think you are."

She takes one of your hands between her own, “Don’t let him step all over you, okay? I know you like him a lot, but I can see how stressed out and miserable you look.”

You chew on your bottom lip, mulling over her words in silence. While she does have a point, you want to give Hoseok the benefit of the doubt, even if you aren’t sure if he deserves it. 

The dilemma that rages inside your heart but be readable on your face, for Mina squeezes your hand in comfort. “Go home, take a hot shower. You’ll feel a lot better, trust me.” 

It turns out that Mina is right about at least one thing. The hot shower does wonders for the crick in your neck, and you feel like a different person now that your hair is clean and the thin layer of grime has been scrubbed off your body. A hot shower is not a miracle solution for all of your problems, but it’s one step in the right direction. 

Feeling rejuvenated in clean clothes, you head on over to the art studio to advance on your semester paint project with a spring in your step. Painting always helps your clear your mind — once you get in the zone, no one and nothing can distract you. 

The scaled down frame forces you to focus on the tiniest details, invisible to the untrained eye. With meticulous brush strokes, streaks of golden brown start to fill in the stenciled field. Every measured stroke is thought out and calculated; your hand is steady, your breath synced to each subtle movement of the paintbrush that glides across the smooth surface of the canvas.

Any of your previous worries are pushed to the back of your mind, out of sight. You don’t even notice when Joo and Lin eventually leave the studio, too immersed in the task at hand. The sun shifts in the sky, casting shadows that make it impossible to continue your work. 

It's when you finally set down the tool in your hand that you begin to register your immediate surroundings. The hands of the clock hung up on the wall indicate how much time has slipped by and, distantly, you tell yourself that you should hurry on home if you want to catch the first few minutes of the TV show you've been into lately.

However, instead of heading back home, you stare blankly at your unfinished painting. Intense dislike twists your insides and you have to fight down a scowl. 

The bright, warm hues of your painting are meant to reflect inner peace and happiness, but one glance tells you that the mix of colors look startlingly wrong. The blue of the sky is too icy, the golden field of wheat grim and inhospitable. You feel nothing when you stare at it, and that vacancy in your chest leaves you feeling bitter. 

Nothing in your life seems to be working out right now. 

You have no idea how to repair what’s been broken or where to even begin. Mina’s right, you think, you are miserable. Being with Hoseok had only been a temporary bliss, but it wasn’t a solution to all of your existing problems. While the rest of your life slowly spiraled out of control, you found refuge in his touch and his whispered words of reassurance. 

A quiet knocking at the door breaks your concentration. Speak of the devil and he shall appear... Somehow, you know who it is before the door even opens. Call it intuition. 

The thick wooden door slides open, and the face of the person you've been avoiding appears. Your heart stops, and, for a second, you think you’ve mistaken a dream for reality. 

Hoseok is dressed in sweats and the university jersey, his hair pushed back beneath his snapback. Being familiar with his schedule, you suspect he’s come straight from practice. The dance studio he trains in is situated on the other side of campus, and judging by how sweat still clings to his brow, his face glowing with a sheen of perspiration, you surmise he must've rushed here right away.

No one makes a move. Time is suspended — seconds seem to stretch into minutes in front of your very eyes. Beneath this silence, there's a tension that lingers in the air, an awkwardness that was never present before.

"Hey." Hoseok has his hands buried deep in his pockets. He tries to sound casual, like nothing is out of the ordinary. 

It only confirms everything you've been thinking about for the last few days. The two of you tend to ignore the problem in the hopes that it will fade and disappear by itself. Still — he's here now, isn't he? That has to mean something. 

"Hi," you say back, but even to your own ears, the greeting sounds contrived. You wonder how long you’ll keep on dancing around the elephant in the room.

As much as you would rather not have this conversation, you know that you can’t keep running away from confrontation forever. This is why your relationship isn’t working in the first place; because the both of you have been turning a blind eye whenever any kind of problem arises. 

Now that you've acknowledge that there's an issue, will you really keep on ignoring it? How can you possibly keep pretending that all is okay when you feel the weight of all that was left unsaid pressing down on your shoulders?

Hoseok must feel it, too.

“Can we talk about this now? Or are you still mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you,” you clarify with a sigh, setting down your palette.

To this he raises a brow, evidently not convinced, “Well, how else am I supposed to interpret all the missed calls and unanswered messages? Would you have even talked to me if I hadn’t come here and sought you out?” Although he’s trying to stay levelheaded about this and speak calmly, you can detect traces of frustration slowly seeping into his speech. "If Kook hadn't told me where to find you, I wouldn't even be having this conversation with you right now."

He leans his weight against the doorframe, his head tipping back as he lets out a frustrated exhale. The column of his neck is exposed to your stare, making it easy to spot the fading pink bruise you had left him near his chiseled jaw. "I don't blame you, if you are. But we should be talking this out, yeah? You never gave me the chance to explain the other night. Well— " He pauses, chewing his bottom lip as he measures his next words carefully. "That night, I didn't tell you everything so...I can understand why you would misunderstand. I don't know if I'm too late but I'd like to explain myself now."

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you I needed some space, but I needed time to think about...us.” A beat passes as you gather your thoughts. You’re thankful he doesn’t jump to conclusions right away and gives you the time to speak free of interruptions. "

“Did you work it out?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us — especially about this. Yuna? She means nothing to me. Not even — we never… I’ve never hooked up with anyone else since we started being together. I know I don’t have the perfect reputation, so I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me, but I’ve never cheated on you.”

“Hoseok, who is she?” The silent accusation is loud enough for him to flinch.

His tongue swipes over his dry lips. You expect him to give you a roundabout, vague answer that will only add fuel to the sparking fire.

After a moment of silent debate, he inhales deeply, choosing to stick to the truth. “We hooked up a few times over Christmas break before New Year’s. I thought we were on the same page, that those few times didn’t mean anything but good fun, and for a while Yuna didn’t do anything to make me think otherwise. Sometimes, one night stands think that they’re something more and it’ll complicate things, but Yuna was always chill."

Hoseok notices your expression and continues, "But ever since we started dating, I don’t know what’s gotten into her… No matter how many times I tell her I’m not interested, I can’t shake her off. There’s not much I can do but ignore her messages and leave her calls unanswered...”

“So…you’re telling me that she’s the one making passes at you? And that you can’t do anything but reject her over and over again…” Saying it out loud makes his explanation all the less believable.

“I know. I know it sounds like a weak ass argument. God, I’m sorry, you deserve better," he berates himself, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown. "I wish that I could tell her to fuck off for good.”

“Then why can’t you? Isn’t this harassment? You have to tell her to stop! This isn’t okay, and I’m not just saying this because I’m dating you, or because I’m jealous or want you to myself or—” You inhale deeply, catching your breath before you continue, "This isn’t okay, Hoseok. If a guy kept sending me dick pics even when I clearly told him I wasn’t interested—"

“I know," he cuts off your rambling with an exasperated sigh. "I know and I try to avoid her when I can, I do, but she’s in the fucking Mayday Showcase. If she was any other fuck, I would set her straight, but I don’t want to pick a fight right now. Our teamwork already sucks as it is… The showcase means too much; I can’t let myself screw it up.”

“You’re not the one screwing anything up. If this is true, she shouldn’t be acting this unprofessional in the first place.”

“Yeah, but it’s also my fault for not following the rules. We’re not supposed to fool around with anyone on our team for this exact reason. I should've known something like this would happen.”

“So what? You’re going to let her come onto you until the year is over? How in the world does that help your teamwork?” You cross your arms, lips pursed in displeasure.

“What else am I supposed to do? Jun even told me to deal with it on my own. ‘Keep your side fucks in line’ is what he said. Crude, but he has a point. It’s my fault, right? As the saying goes, I've made my bed so now I have to lie in it."

“Jun’s a dumbass…" Shaking your head, you don't know who you're more annoyed with — Jun for giving the world's shittiest advice or Hoseok for accepting his words without protest. "No wonder the teamwork is shit, when you have him as your captain. Maybe you should take it up with your dance instructor instead. Surely they’ll intervene, right?”

“So they can, what, pull Yuna from the showcase? And mess with the dance formations? We’ve been practicing this for months, it’s not something so easily changeable. If that happens, it’ll take more effort to adjust and rearrange the choreo. Dance comes first, it always has. It’s all I have, you know? It's all I’m good at. If I lose this chance, then there won’t be anything left for me to do.” He trails off, his eyes fixing a stain on the wall with feigned interest. He tries to mask his discomfort but you can see right through his act. It's not often Hoseok divulges his inner thoughts and insecurities; he probably feels embarrassed and regrets speaking too much.

A pause laden with tension follows, filling the empty void between the two of you, as you try to make sense of what he said. You're momentarily at a loss for words. Normally, you would provide gentle words of encouragement, but this time they get stuck in your throat. You still don't know whether or not to buy his explanation. It would be so easy to give him the benefit of the doubt and just go back to how things were in the past...

"Don’t get me wrong." The silence is finally broken with an awkward cough. "I don't care about Yuna; I don’t even consider her a friend. But I can deal with it. It’s a major pain in the ass, but I can deal with it."

You nod, not sure who he's trying to convince — you or himself. What is that even supposed to mean? Is he doing you a favor by letting this girl send him pictures of her in various states of undress? Mina’s words of warning ring through your head again, reminding you not to let him take you for a fool.

“I… I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have told me this earlier,” is what you say about a bout of silence. “Why did you have to hide this from me? Don’t you think this is just a little bit important?”

“I guess I… It sounds dumb, but I didn’t want to ruin things between us. Things are stressful as fuck right now, but when I’m with you, I forget about all that for a while. For the short amount of time I get to spend with you, things become easier to swallow. No deadlines, no practice, no drama. But I don’t want to make up some lame excuse. It was wrong, I know I should’ve told you right away and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“Alright.” The curt reply is all you can manage. Talking has only made you more frustrated. So you’re just a stress reliever to him? That’s what he’s getting at right… What are you supposed to make of that? Does he expect you to be grateful?

The residual anger hasn’t washed away yet, and you feel the traces linger.

“So, we good?"

"Are we?” You’re tired of brushing things under the rug. “I don't think we've ever been good... I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and talking to Mina helped me straighten my thoughts out.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst from the confines of your chest. You can feel the thrum of your pulse in your throat. Hands curling into fists at your side, you try to steel yourself. 

“I...I thi— I think it's best if we break up."

“y/n…”

“What we have isn’t a relationship—”

“Is that what Mina said?” He scoffs, slightly mocking. 

“It’s what everyone is saying!” You throw your hands up, your pent up anger exploding. 

“And since when do they matter? They don’t know anything about us.” The exasperated look he shoots you only irritates you further.

“But are they wrong?” 

“Okay, fine." He huffs, his brows pulling into a frown. He continues the next sentence in the same heated breath, "Maybe things aren’t ideal between us. Maybe we aren’t perfect together. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the poster child for any 21st century romance. But since when are relationships supposed to be a smooth sailing? Throw those ideals out the window. The stuff you read about in books doesn’t exist."

The look of frustration he pins you with roots you to the spot. You can't remember the last time he's gotten so worked up over something. Pushing himself off the wall, he stalks over to you, closing the distance in three long strides.

"But you know what’s real?" Hoseok doesn't wait for your answer, "I don’t need other people telling me how I should feel. I know what’s real.”

For the first time since you've met him, the words aimed at you are harsh and scathing. It feels like he’s digging an accusatory finger up against your chest even though he isn’t touching you at all.

“How you feel?" You can't keep the incredulity out of your tone. Scoffing, you cross your arms in the hopes that you won’t waver. You need to be strong, you remind yourself.

"Please don’t try to convince me to stay when you don’t even love me. Do you — Do you even like me?"

"Do I even—?  That's not the issue. Of course I like you.” He looks horribly affronted by your underlying suggestion, the crease between his brows deepening. A wounded expression falls over his face then, and he suddenly avoids your gaze. “But I— You’re right... I don’t know if what I feel is love. But at least I can say that I’m trying. Are you really going to run away at the first sign of trouble? I don't know much, but I don't think that's how relationships work."

“You always claim that you’re not the ideal boyfriend, but I’m not perfect either… I’m selfish, and I want a lot more than I lead on.” Your cheeks burn scarlet as you toy with the hem of your sweater, trying to distract yourself from the embarrassment that comes with your admission. It’s the first time you’ve been so honest, and, honestly, it makes your stomach turn. “I’ve never liked someone like you, I’ve never… I’ve never liked someone as much as you, either. But I feel like I’m investing a lot of myself in a relationship that isn’t going to work out. And as much as I want to be with you, I’m scared that I’m going to end up with the short end of the stick.”

Hoseok repeats your name, one of his hands tentatively reaching up to cup your jaw. His eyes don’t leave yours, like he’s trying to silently communicate the feelings he’s unable to voice out. You fix the tall bridge of his nose instead, then his pink lips — anything but the chocolate brown of his eyes. You’re afraid you’ll end up projecting your own feelings...and the last thing you want is to interpret his look for something else. You don’t need the false hope. 

“I’m really sorry,” he whispers, thumb stroking your chin, your lips. “You’ve always deserved better. If you’re selfish then what am I?”

When his lips meet yours, your eyes have already fluttered closed in anticipation. If you gasp into his mouth, he’s quick to swallow down the sound before it can reach his ears. 

Your hands fist the collar of his shirt, pulling him down closer to match your height. Greedily, you drink him in. His mouth tastes like the familiar, sweet flavor of Wrigley’s juicy fruit gum and the bittersweet taste of finality. You realize then how much you have missed him — his touch, the scent of his cologne that clings to his clothes like fabric softener, the way his lips work against yours with the intent of pulling you apart from the very seams.

"Ah, fuck," he curses under his breath when you nip the underside of his jaw, your tongue soothing over the mark with kittenish licks. You reach to pull off your pink hoodie, discarding it somewhere on the floor. The thin tank top you have on underneath draws attention to your cleavage which Hoseok can’t resist venerating with his gaze.  

The art studio isn't a private space. On the contrary, anyone is free to walk in unannounced just like Hoseok had moments ago. But like every single one of your risky encounters in the past, this knowledge only fuels your arousal. The desire that sparks within you whenever he's around always wins out.

One day, your kinks will surely get you arrested, you think self-deprecatingly. Arrested or kicked out of school. The thought barely forms in your mind before Hoseok tilts your head to deepen the kiss, wiping out your train of thought. His lips dull your senses — or rather they make him your sole focus. Whenever you’re with him, you don’t realize how severe your tunnel vision is. Lost in the moment, all you can do is concentrate on the way he gently cradles your jaw between his palms. Heat blooms inside of your chest with every swipe of his tongue against yours until you can’t remember anything but his name.

Hoseok seems to sense your urgency; he reciprocates your advances, his grip tightening around your waist as he backs you up against the window. Your back hits the cold surface with a thud. A throbbing heat spreads at once, your body reacting to his like it’s been conditioned to do so, but the pain doesn't have time to register, not when he presses himself against you and you find yourself sandwiched between the glass panel and his toned body. 

He pulls back and levels you with a heated look, "You want it here?" 

Your breaths mingle as he rests his forehead against yours while waiting for your verbal assent. With the way his arms cage you in his hold, you find it impossible to look away from the expression of lust that paints his face in bold streaks. It's like ripping off a Band-Aid, you think to yourself, convinced that it'll hurt less if you just fuck him out of your system for good. Hoseok interprets your silence for uncertainty so he adds quietly, "You can always say no. It's okay."

"I want this." Your answer spills from your swollen lips, too quickly for your liking, revealing your desire for the man in front of you. Having nothing left to hide, you decide to drop all prior pretences. "I always want you."

It's a truth you don't like to admit but can't bring yourself to deny. How can you pretend any differently? You've always been too honest about your intentions and your feelings, ignoring the warnings from your sister to never wear your heart on your sleeve. Although you understand the need to protect yourself from heartbreak and disappointment, you would rather experience that then live through a cycle of regrets and 'What If's'.

Hoseok's features soften at your admission, his thumbs hooking themselves in the loops of your jeans. Silently, he draws you closer still, your bodies perfectly intertwined, like two puzzle pieces slotting to make a match. Only a few layers of clothing separate you from him — you're so close you swear you can feel the drumming of his heart against your right breast.

From this close, you can't help but notice how the fire in his eyes is now smoldering rather than scorching. Sometimes the heat of his passion is so intense you feel like you'll combust into a mess of flames and smoke. If Hoseok is the sun, you are the fool who can't resist singeing her wings. But this way, it's bearable, you think to yourself, his darkened gaze making you slowly melt into a puddle instead.

"You're so good to me." His breath grazes your skin, his eyelashes fluttering as he stares you down. A thumb traces the curvature of your bottom lip like a sculptor admiring a finished masterpiece. "My good girl."

The words sear through you, no longer providing the comfort they used to. But the ache they leave in their wake is momentary, your mind refusing to dwell on the painful feeling.

Hoseok’s ministrations help distract you. Deft fingers inch under your shirt, caressing your supple flesh as gently as a bamboo brush sets ink to paper. The drag of his digits across the canvas of your skin is feather-light, almost hesitant, and you suspect this is Hoseok's way of making sure you truly want this as much as he does before going any further.

When you don't immediately back out or push him away, he pulls your top down far enough to expose your bra-clad chest, and cups your breasts over the last strip of fabric until you’re moaning against his mouth. The skimpy lace material leaves you vulnerable to his every ministratio — the soft squeezes of his hands on your mounds and the heel of his palm rubbing into you to provide delicious friction — and you can confidently affirm that no other man knows how to get you as riled up as he does. Hoseok is so familiar with your body that he could probably find each of your weak spots blindfolded. He uses this knowledge to his advantage, immediately honing his attention on your sensitive nipples, his thumb dragging over the lace covered buds until they're stiff and aching.

"A-ah, Hobi please..." Your tongue molds the words with familiarity, so used to begging for him.

"I know you enjoy that. Are you getting wet for me? Hmm, not yet?" He pinches you through the lace, the fabric chaffing your sore nipples. Your body jolts, breasts bouncing in his hands as he continues to play with your swollen buds. You have to swallow down your moan, unable to articulate the traitorous thoughts running through your mind. The longer this pleasurable torture continues, the more your body yearns for more. Still, you refuse to give in completely, wanting to test how long Hoseok could hold back.

Whenever you played this particular waiting game, victory had never been on your side. Not because Hoseok was unaffected — but because your desperation eventually became too much to tolerate.  

But expressing your desire through lidded eyes is a challenge; Hoseok chooses that moment to trace the slope of your neck with his lips, his head now buried in the crook of your neck, hidden from you. You tug the hairs at the nape of his neck, trying to make eye contact again but he doesn’t let you steer him away from his goal.

Hoseok presses each kiss onto your skin slowly, with purpose, as if you had all the time in the world to indulge in each other.

Why is he acting like this right now? Your teeth catch your lip in their hold out of sheer frustration. Each delicate print of his lips on your body reminds you of what you can't have, and your heart aches, heavy in your chest. The soft material of his jersey crinkles under your grip as you try to keep yourself upright and composed. You hate it, the way he his tender touch sparks something inside of you, chipping away at your resolve.

Over his shoulder, the clock on the wall catches your attention, and your spine straightens as reality sinks in.

"Hoseok," you tug insistently at the collar of his shirt in your attempt to remind him you were both short on time.

"Mmm, be patient." His teeth nip your ear lobe to accentuate his command.

"But we don't have—"

"If you want me inside your cunt, I want you nice and wet for me. Wait a little longer, okay? Be good." His sickly sweet smile is a hoax; it tells you right away that he's taking the utmost delight in making you squirm in his hold. Upon noticing the glare you sport, the corner of his lips quirk into a smug smirk, confirming your suspicions.

Patience is not your strong suit. On normal days, Hoseok is usually kind enough to cut to the chase, but for some unexplainable reason, he seems to want to draw this out.

Slow sex is welcome on lazy Sunday mornings, under the cover of thin sheets, in the privacy of your room. It's not convenient nor desired when you are running late for afternoon lectures, and even less so when the place you're trying to get it on is an empty classroom anyone is free to walk into. Of all the locations for a quick romp, it had to be the fucking art studio…

You know that if you want him to fast-forward the maddening pace he's set you need to lead the game. Hoseok knows your body inside out — but the same could be said for you; you know what makes him tick, what gets him unbearably hot under the collar, which cards to use to get his heart pounding.

Jutting your bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, you lower your voice into a sultry purr "B-but I'm dripping already." You almost tack on the word 'Daddy' for good measure, but you aren’t in the mood to play that game today. You don’t want him to be sweet or caring; you don’t want to trust him blindly anymore. All you want is to wash him out of your system as painlessly as possible. 

If Hoseok doesn't react verbally to your confession, you don't let that deter you. The rigid muscles under your clutch tell you that you've hit your mark.

“It’s not the same without you,” you continue, lust making you shameless. “I need you.”

You’re scared to acknowledge how much truth there is to these words. Deep down, you know they’re spot on, but you refuse to acknowledge it. You don’t want to be dependent on him, not for your pleasure nor anything else.

Thankfully, Hoseok doesn’t let you linger on those thoughts for too long. He unbuttons your jeans and slides them down your legs, pulling your underwear along with the denim. Material barriers now gone, a breeze of cool air caresses your exposed skin. 

“You’re right,” he smirks, thumbing over the incriminating wet patch on your panties. You can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about it, too impatient to get it on. One of his hands reaches past the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls out his hardened member, the thickness making your mouth go dry with desire. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders as he picks you up by the meat of your thighs, the prints of his fingertips digging into your skin. You loop your arms around his neck like a lifeline; breath caught in your throat as he positions your hips over his erection. 

“Oh fuck,” you groan, feeling the head stretch out your walls as he pushes himself in inch by inch. You’re lubricated enough so that it isn’t painful, but there’s no dismissing the way his girth slowly works you open. However, the uncomfortable sensation quickly melts away and leaves room for pleasure.

The week you haven’t been with him feels like a month, and your body is eager to make up for lost time. 

“God,” he moans, brow creased, evidently as affected as you. His nostrils flare, muscles in his neck tensing, and he shudders when you clench around him without warning. Sweat drips down the side of his face, the tiny beads of perspiration making his skin glisten under the late afternoon sun. Your eyes drink this sight in, subconsciously trying to commit every minute detail of his face to memory. 

His hands keep you pinned against the wall as he works his hips against yours in careful strokes. You can feel the delicious drag of his cock inside of you as he pushes in and out, your body adjusting to the gentle rocking. He buries his head in the hollow of your neck, mouthing at the spots he knows make your knees buckle. 

"Always feels good with you." You almost miss the way he murmurs the praise against your shoulder blades. It's delivered so quietly, you can barely hear it over the hammering in your chest and the roaring in your ears, and you wonder if he means for it to reach you. The words aren’t said for an added kick or for show, you realize. 

"I want it d-deeper."  

He's already giving it to you so good; the fluidity of his movements, the way he angles his hips into yours and keeps your legs hoisted up around his middle — all of it a lethal combination intended to make you scream out his name. But desperation claws at you — you need more, need the pleasure to numb all other distracting thoughts. You want to overindulge until you’re so full from pleasure that you’ll never need to come back for seconds.

"Yeah? No one can give it to you like me. You love it when I fuck you out," he rasps, the sound rough around the edges. A whine leaves your parted lips when he lifts you back down onto unsteady feet. His hands slip down to your waist, keeping you stable as he turns you around so that your back faces him. “Turn around for me. That’s good, yeah—right against the window.”

Wobbling only slightly, you brace yourself against the windowpane, the position all too familiar. Except now, when you look down, you can see a swarm of students below, some walking to their next class, others sprawled across the freshly mowed lawn as they try to bathe in the last rays of afternoon sunshine. From the fourth floor window, you’re capable of distinguishing their faces if you squint, so you’re sure that if they happen to look up, they’ll be able to spot you, too. Even though the glass panel only exposes your face and the peak of your cleavage, you know any student who catches a glimpse at you whilst in the throes of passion won’t be duped into thinking otherwise. 

Eyes blown to comically wide proportions, your pulse kick-starts at the thought of someone observing you from below. Your breaths come out in short pants, and you can physically feel shivers run down your spine. Hoseok’s hand is steady on your waist, grounding you. 

“If you want to stop at any time, just tell me, okay?”  

“Just go,” you gasp, breath fogging up the window. 

Hoseok heeds your words of advice, not wasting any additional time as he lines up his slick shaft along your weeping entrance. When he pushes into you, your mouth parts to let out a high-pitched moan of pleasure. It’s only now that he’s stretching you out that you realize how much you’ve missed this, craved this. 

With one hand groping your left breast and the other tight on your hip, he fucks up into you, his hips slamming into yours from behind. He quickly abandons the slow, languid pace from before, his thrusts now rough, fueled by the need to reach his end. 

The lewd sounds that echo in the studio could alert anybody standing outside the door of what you’re doing. You wonder who is most likely to find out what you’re up to — a person walking by in the hallway or a student down below. With the way he’s fucking you, there’s no way of knowing.

It’s a miracle no one’s caught on yet. Not that you would have noticed them. Every piston of his hips makes your skin flush, perspiration making your shirt stick to your torso. His cock feels so good inside you — like it was meant for you — and you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions, your arousal evident with each mewl of pleasure to spill from your lips. 

“Is it wrong that I want them to see?” Hoseok breathes into the shell of your eat, the hot air making you shiver. Your mind ruses to supply the image his words conjure up and you can’t stop yourself from clenching down on his hard cock. “I want them to know that I own this pussy. They’ll take one look at us and know they’d never compare.”

His words make you tip your head back and you’re weak to resist the way his tongue finds your own, fucking your mouth to match the steady rhythm of his hips. It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart on his twitching cock, not when he knows how to please you so well. Hoseok’s pace falters as he feels your walls try to milk his cock. He ruts into you, swiveling his hips as far as he can go, his fingers bruising against your skin. He chokes your name between grunts before emptying his seed inside of you in thick spurts.

When your beating hard slows down enough for it to be bearable, your fingers twitch against their position on the wall, yearning to reach down and keep Hoseok inside of you. He pulls out almost too soon for your liking, leaving you truly empty with only traces of semen running down your inner thighs. 

It’s ironic...or maybe it’s fate, you think to yourself as you pull up your jeans, skin sticky with sweat and bodily fluids. 

You and Hoseok have finally come full circle, it seems. You started your relationship with Hoseok with sex and you ended it the same way. A relationship built on sex isn’t meant to last long. 

“I’ll see you around?” Hoseok says awkwardly. It’s strange seeing him at a loss. With you, he’s always taken the lead, so self-assured and experienced. The timid, unsure image of him in front of you makes you soften and grant him a small smile.

“Of course,” you humor, knowing the words are said for formality’s sake. Now that you aren’t dating or having sex, there’s no reason to bump into each other. Your classes aren’t on the same side of campus and you run with different circle of friends. 

Hoseok opens his mouth to say more but ends up swallowing his thoughts and keeping them to himself. You know the feeling. No matter what you try to tell yourself, you know that it won’t be that easy to move on — for you or for him. It’s only a matter of time before both of you somehow find a way back to each other. 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the figure leaning against the oak tree readjusts his cap, dark eyes never leaving the window where your figure was pressed up just moments ago.

#i accidentally queued this for jan 1st 11 pm OTL #sorry for the slight delay !!! happy new year's !!!!!! #hoseok scenario #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok smut #junghope #hoseok #jungkook #series #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

[myforeverforlife]

Room No.7

The regular college study areas have become a source of discomfort, and you end up looking for a place where no one will recognize you. When you come across an infamous “DVD room”, you find more than you bargained for.

Inspired by the movie “Room No.7″.

Word Count: 6,092

Masterlist

It wasn’t that you didn’t have anywhere to study. In fact, the opposite was true: your university had an excess of study areas for students. Your problem was that in each of these study spaces, you ended up running into someone you knew from your dreaded general education class. You and ART 201 (Intro to Art Appreciation) hadn’t always had such a rocky relationship. You didn’t even hate the class, it was the students that were starting to bug you. 

On the day of your first exam, you and your classmates had discovered that your professor’s study guide materials were completely different from the actual test questions. Since you sat in the front row, it was painfully easy for the students around you to see your answers, and to then pass them on to the rest of the class. You didn’t have a problem with them copying you, in the end the exams only made up a small fraction of your total grade. As long as you did well on your projects and presentations without anyone copying you, you were fine. 

However, you didn’t expect that after that day, the rest of the class would depend on you for answers to all of their questions. 

“Y/N, did he say that they used paper-mache or clay?”

“You know, I’m not sure — ”

“Y/N! Do you think this is right?” 

“#3 is false, not true. It’s contrapposto, not cross-hatching.” 

“Y/N!” 

At first, you tried to at least be polite despite the constant pestering. But as the semester passed, you found yourself losing your temper more, speaking to others in a clipped voice and practically running in the other direction whenever you spotted a classmate.

You took to looking for a cozy study area off campus, riding your bike through the streets in search of coffee shops or PC rooms. However, you didn’t spend much time at either of these places either. Coffee shops became too noisy at times, even with your earbuds in, and PC rooms gave you a headache with the constant brightness of the computer screens in your face. 

As you rode through the streets on your bike, backpack and smoothie cup in your bike basket, you were constantly scanning the storefronts for the safe haven you were looking for. 

The area you were in was less populated than where you lived, with only a couple of people walking here and there. The stores seemed just as calm, storekeepers inside finding some small tasks to keep them busy until customers came. 

You were getting closer to a tall building, the signs outside indicating there were multiple shops inside. Your bike came to a screeching halt as you stopped, foot landing on the floor to balance yourself as you looked up at one of the signs.

The sign at the bottom caught your attention, “Hollywood DVD Room” printed upon it. 

“DVD Room?” you read aloud, brow raising in interest. You had never been in one before, but you had heard about them from your roommate. You paid to watch a movie, and you would get to watch in a room by yourself. Your roommate also told you that these places were also known for being secret getaways for couples and their romantic endeavors, which was the main reason why you hadn’t been interested in going to one. The idea of sitting in a room where someone had been having sex wasn’t the most appealing to you. 

But judging by the lack of traffic in this area, you hoped that the DVD room was just as quiet. Hopping back on your bike, you rode on in search of a bike rack, pulling out your lock and securing it in place once you found one. You took your backpack out of the basket, swinging it over one shoulder while you held onto your smoothie with your other hand. As you walked back to the building, you groaned inwardly. The sign said that the store was on the 3rd floor, and all you could see was a set of stairs, no elevator in sight.

Sighing to yourself, you opened the door, ready to climb up three flights of stairs for some peace and quiet. Unexpectedly, you found yourself in awe as you ascended the steps. The walls were adorned in old fashioned movie posters, Hollywood lights decorating some of them. You moved closer to one, examining the faded paint of the poster. For some reason, this made the building seem more charming to you, and you found yourself smiling before continuing on. 

When you finally reached the third floor, you heard the sounds of music, a chord repeating over and over until they stopped, only to start up again but with a slight change in notes. The door to the DVD room was labeled, phone number and store hours painted on the door’s window. But the door itself wasn’t traditional: instead of having a doorknob or a lock, it was simply meant to be pushed open. It was pretty much a wooden swinging door, and you could see the light of the store inside seeping out from the cracks between the door and the walls. 

You quietly made your way up the last couple of steps, moving to press the door open with your shoulder. 

“Hello?” you called out, voice timid.

You were met by the sight of stacks upon stacks of DVDs, and caught sight of a small table in the back corner of the room. Your gaze traveled over to the far left, only to see a man seating behind a counter, turning around from his laptop to look at you. He tapped a key on his laptop quickly as he swung around in his chair, and the music you had heard earlier stopped immediately. You felt a breath hitch in your throat as you caught his eye, freezing in place. 

His eyes were adorably round, a stark contrast to the block-like eyebrows above them and the all-black outfit he wore. A nametag rested on his hoodie, the name “Do Kyungsoo” written on it in plain font. His lips were his most striking feature, plush lips set in an unreadable expression. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, voice deep but quiet.

You cleared your throat, walking forward so you were inside the room. As the door swung shut behind you, you took tentative steps towards the counter. “How much is it for a movie?”

“$15 for a new movie, $10 for everything else.” 

“Can I watch more than one?” 

The man raised an eyebrow, and you saw him examine you briefly before he answered. “Are you bringing someone else?”

“No, it’s just me. I might be planning on staying here for a while, though.” 

He nodded to himself, before looking away and focusing on his laptop once more. “Go ahead. We’re only taking cash right now, our machine broke down.”

“Thank you,” you murmured before heading over to one of the shelves aimlessly. Since you were here to study instead of actually watching a movie, you were planning on picking a movie that wasn’t too distracting. You settled on a documentary about pandas, giggling to yourself at the cute pair on the DVD cover as you took it back to the store worker. 

“I’ll have this one, please.” You handed it over to him along with your money, his curious expression not escaping your notice. 

Despite his obvious interest, he got up wordlessly, putting it in one of the DVD players. As he turned around, you caught a glimpse of a marking on his neck, near his ear. It seemed to be a tattoo, script written in a language you couldn’t understand. Before you could stare at it further, he turned around, sitting back down in his chair. “You’re in Room 3,” he told you. 

“Thank you.” You gave him a small smile, more comfortable now that you had gotten the hard part over and done with. Now all you had to worry about was getting your work done. 

He didn’t return the smile, giving you a small nod instead before looking down at his desk, rummaging among various papers. 

Room 3 was small, but a good fit for a single customer. You laid your bag on the floor, smoothie on the small table and settled down onto the couch provided. The movie was still rolling through the beginning credits, and you reasoned that watching the movie for 10 minutes couldn’t hurt.

Ten minutes soon turned to thirty, and then an hour. You startled upright as you realized the movie was almost over, checking your phone and groaning when you realized it was already 3. If you wanted to get home before it was too dark, you would have to leave by 5. 

You pulled out your laptop and textbook, making a pointed effort to ignore the TV and instead do what you actually came here to do. 

Once you got to the first body paragraph of one of your essays, you noticed that the movie had ended, music signaling the end credits. You got up, opening your room’s door silently as you headed back to the counter.

The man was still there, although this time he had headphones on, staring at his laptop screen intently until he noticed you coming closer. He pulled his headphones back, looking up at you. “Done already?” he asked. 

“Do you have any movies that are only music? Like, instrumental music?” 

Judging by the look on his face, you guessed that this was probably the most unusual request he had ever gotten in his time working there. In order to seem less strange, you tried to explain yourself. 

“I’m studying, but I don’t want a movie that’s too noisy that it’ll end up distracting me.” You bit down on your lip, hoping that this was explanation enough. Lots of people studied with background noise, it’s not like you were any different.

His eyes glanced to your lips for a second before looking away quickly, clearing his throat and taking off his headphones altogether. “We might have some documentaries like that,” he said lowly, getting up and walking over to the shelves. 

You watched as he rummaged through them expertly, hands floating over the DVD cases until he found what he was looking for. “Are you okay with a documentary on forests?” 

“Yes!” Mundane and calming enough to keep you entertained, but not distracted while studying. “That’ll be great, actually.” 

He nodded to himself as he came back, switching out your old DVD for the new. As you gave him your $10, you noticed how not much had changed since you entered the room in the first place. “Has anyone else come in?” you asked, genuinely curious.

To your surprise, Kyungsoo’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink as he found it hard to make eye-contact. “No. We’ve been pretty slow.” 

“Oh.” You guessed that you hit a sensitive nerve, and took that as your cue to leave. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in a couple hours,” you joked lightly, hoping to ease his discomfort.

Luckily, it seemed to work, as he watched you leave with a tiny smile on his face, the first you had seen since you came in. Emboldened by this breakthrough, you started on your homework again with more focus than ever. You made it through most of your essay, typing away furiously to the music and sounds of rushing water and birdcalls. 

When that movie was over, you gathered up your belongings, packing everything back into your bag and throwing your now empty smoothie cup in the small trash can. You had spent so much time in that room, that at this point, you were eager to go back outside and get some sunlight. 

This time, the man was busy cleaning down the counter with a washcloth when you came out. 

“Thank you,” you greeted him as you passed by, giving him a parting smile. 

“Have a good night,” he returned, hand pausing its movements as he watched you leave, the door swinging after you. 

Once he was sure you were gone, he headed to Room 3, only to find that you had done a pretty good job at cleaning up after yourself. Most customers were messy about their belongings, leaving wrappers on the floor. He was still obligated to spray and wipe down the room according to work rules, but he was grateful that you had taken the effort to clean up. 

As he wiped down the couch, he thought back to your movie choices. “Documentaries,” he mused to himself. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone came to watch a documentary. Everyone who came watched either the latest movies, or famous classics. Even more unique was the fact that you had specifically requested movies with instrumental music.

Kyungsoo liked listening to music while he worked too, velvety voices weaving among rich compositions. As a composer himself, he was always on the search for interesting and appealing sounds to include in his music. If only his work would get some recognition...

Last week, he had sent out demo CDs to various companies, hoping that he would get some response. None had come yet, but his roommates had told him not to give up hope. 

“Someone will call you back,” his fellow composer, Chanyeol had told him. “Your music is amazing, Kyungsoo.” 

“He’s right,” Minseok had called out from where he sat. “They’d be dumb not to call you.”

But dumb they were, since no one had reached out to contact Kyungsoo. It was getting harder, being rejected time after time with no success. He already felt worn down by the threat of loans hanging over him. He couldn’t even afford to pay for college, having to drop out after a year. Now he was barely able to pay rent. 

This job wasn’t helping either. Working part-time in a DVD room with barely any customers was draining him. His boss was having financial troubles too, and hadn’t even been able to pay him for the past couple of weeks. 

At that moment, the bell above the main door rung out, the familiar footsteps of Kyungsoo’s boss echoing in the empty space. “Part-timer?” he called out.

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo called out, giving the couch one last swipe before getting up and entering the hallway. 

“Anyone here?”

“No, the last person left already.”

“Good. Go on and head home, I’ll close up.” Kyungsoo’s boss headed to the counter, opening up a drawer and looking through the contents. 

Kyungsoo closed the door to Room 3 behind him before heading to the back to throw the washcloth in the laundry basket. When he returned to the front, he was sure to pack everything he brought in his backpack. He had once made the mistake of leaving a charger in the store, and the next day it was gone, taken by a customer while he was out. 

“Good night,” he said, backpack safely on his shoulders as his boss barely gave him a parting glance.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

Your roommate was shocked, to say the least when you told her that you went to a DVD room. 

“How was it? Was it noisy?”

“No, the opposite, actually. I think I was the only customer.” 

“Really? Makes sense, since most people are streaming online now. Did you get a lot of stuff done?”

“I’m almost done with my essay!” you sang out, laying down on your bed with a sigh of relief. 

“Damn, maybe I should try studying there too,” she joked.

“What study? You never study,” you teased back, giggling in delight when she threw a pillow at you.

“Shut up,” she laughed out. “I do study, you just never see.” She reached for her phone, charging a couple of feet away. You caught sight of a tattoo on her shoulder, a small bird she had told you she had gotten in memory of her grandmother. Seeing the tattoo made you think of the man, Kyungsoo, who had the unusual tattoo on his neck.

“The worker at the store had this cool tattoo on his neck. It was like, some European language or something,” you told her. 

“DVD room workers are sketchy,” she replied, wrinkling her nose as she scanned through social media sites. “Half the time, they’re dropouts. The other half, they’re drug addicts.”

Her words made you feel uncomfortable, toes squirming and stomach churning at these basic stereotypes. “I don’t know, he seemed nice enough to me.” True, he hadn’t been extremely talkative, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He had been kind enough to you while you were there. 

“That’s good, at least,” she told you, still focused on her phone. “Is that your new study spot, then?”

You looked up at the ceiling, the plain emptiness of it staring back down at you.

“Maybe.”

“Hello!”

Kyungsoo looked up, head turning to see you enter. It had been a week since you first came, and if he was being honest, he had been hoping that you would return.

“Hello,” he greeted you back. “More documentaries?” 

You gave a soft laugh, eyes crinkling at his small joke. Kyungsoo had been looking forward to seeing your smiles again too, a corner of his lips lifting in response to your own smile. “Yeah. I’ve got to finish a project, and this is the only place I’ve found where I actually get some peace and quiet,” you told him. 

“What kind of project is it? If you don’t mind me asking,” he tacked on quickly, hoping he wasn’t being too intrusive.

You came closer, hands resting on the counter as you faced him. “It’s for one of my art classes, I have to fill up a sketchbook by the end of the semester.”

“How’s it going so far?”

“Pretty good, I have four weeks left to complete it. Hopefully, my hands don’t fall off by the end of it.”

He snorted, covering his nose with his hand after you spoke. “I’m sorry,” he added, teeth peeking through his fingers along with his grin. 

“No, it’s fine! I’m glad you thought it was funny,” you reassured him. 

He brought his hand down, smile now in full view. To say you were taken aback was an understatement. You had thought his lips were pretty before, but now after seeing his smile full-on, you could feel the flutters in your stomach more strongly than ever. Giving a small cough to distract yourself, you glanced behind you the shelf of documentaries. “Do you have any recommendations today?” 

“Mmm,” he hummed to himself in thought. “There’s one on the Hawaiian islands that I remember being pretty good.” 

You backed away from the counter, determination in your step. “Hawaiian islands, it is.” It was pretty easy for you to find the DVD, since the documentaries only took up half of the total bookshelf. The two of you carried out the same transaction as yesterday, although this time you both felt more relaxed around each other.

“Room 3?” you asked, remembering where you had been last time. 

“Yep. See you later,” said Kyungsoo, almost the same words you had said to him last week. 

You nodded in agreement, giving him a small wave before heading to the room. Once you were inside, you slumped down on the couch, back resting against the wooden wall. Not only had you found a reliable study place, but you had also gotten closer to the extremely attractive man. You smiled to yourself, toes wiggling as you remembered how his lips had shaped themselves into a sweet smile, looking so soft and kissable.

Wait, what? 

Your own hand went to your lips, your body going rigid in shock at the sudden thought that had ran through your mind. A simple smile from him and already you were fantasizing about kissing him. 

“Get a grip, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. You shook your shoulders back before straightening up, taking off your backpack so that you could distract yourself with work. Hopefully by focusing on your sketches, you would be able to sort through your feelings for Kyungsoo.

Unfortunately for you, Kyungsoo was present even in your sketchbook. Your professor had told you to fill up your book with any sketches you liked, so you had absolute creative freedom for this certain assignment. Your hand started off by drawing an eye, a basic shape flowing from your pencil onto the paper. As you continued to shade, you realized with a startle that the eye you were drawing looked suspiciously similar to Kyungsoo’s. 

You groaned, deciding to leave that sketch alone for now and moving onto an empty section on the page. A full upper lip appeared, with a lower lip just as full to match it. Lip creases and various shadows followed before you gasped. Kyungsoo’s lips. They stared up at you from the page, very obviously his heart-shaped, plush lips. 

This was going to be a long two hours.

The documentary ended, and you had managed to sucessfully complete three pages of your sketchbook. You were proud of yourself for finally being able to take your mind off of Kyungsoo, although it hadn’t been easy. You had to eventually draw from the documentary for reference, palm trees and sea creatures scattered throughout your sketchbook. 

You wished you could stay longer, but your wallet was starting to feel the effects of your movie outings. In between buying art supplies, food and now these movie rentals, your already meager college money was now in danger of being used up before the end of the semester. 

As you got up, you sent a quick text to your roommate to let her know you’d be coming home soon.

When you entered the main room of the building again, you were surprised to find a different man behind the counter. Compared to Kyungsoo, this man was older, middle-aged with wrinkles beginning to form on his face. He looked up as you came closer, thanking you for coming and hastily saying goodbye. Judging by the way this man was very clearly trying to get you to leave, you decided not to ask about Kyungsoo. 

Your feet carried you out the door, the man’s watchful gaze making you feel uneasy. You got the feeling that if you stayed inside a moment longer, he would be pestering you to either rent a movie or leave. With a defeated sigh, you trudged down the stairs. 

Until next time.

“Welcome,” said Kyungsoo as he heard the familiar ring of the bell above the door. He didn’t bother to check who it was, uninterested since he figured it wouldn’t be you. If his boss was there, Kyungsoo would have immediately gotten a scolding for failing to be a “gracious host”. Luckily for him, his boss had said he would be out until 10. 

You hadn’t been there for a couple of weeks, and Kyungsoo was starting to get anxious. His boss had come in earlier than usual and told Kyungsoo to go home early the last day that he saw you. He had left with a reluctant heart, hoping that you would come back out before he left, but in the end he had ended up leaving before you. 

He continued to fidget with the pen in his hand, papers in front of him as he went over a composition he and Chanyeol were working on. 

“That looks pretty complicated.” 

His head shot up, only to see you standing before him on the other side of the oh so familiar counter, grinning at him sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

“You’re back,” he blurted out, face heating up once he realized what he had just said. “I mean, I didn’t see you around here for a while. I  was starting to wonder where you were.” 

“Yeah, I caught a pretty bad cold and basically stayed at the dorm unless I had class. I missed coming here though.” And coming to see you. 

“The store was less quiet without you. You’re the most loyal customer we’ve had in a while.”

You looked away, a faint blush beginning to stain your cheeks and Kyungsoo found himself at a loss for words. If you thought you had been constantly thinking of Kyungsoo and his lips, he had been thinking about you and your beaming smiles just as often. 

“I actually came today to ask for a favor,” you mumbled, looking in his direction but unable to meet his eyes for fear of rejection.

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raised, curiosity piquing his interest. “What is it?”

“Will you let me do a drawing of you? I have one more page left in my sketchbook, and I’ve already done sketches of basically everything else. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you hastily backtracked. 

“It’s fine. I’m happy to help you out.” 

His response gave you the courage to face him again, lips turning up at the corners as you saw him waiting for you patiently, heart-shaped lips mirroring your own in a smile.

“Really? Thank you, so much. Umm...” you scanned the room for a place to set up your materials. You caught sight of the small table behind you, pointing at it with a finger. “Do you mind if I sketch you here?”

“Sure.” Kyungsoo got up calmly, pace measured and steady despite the fluttering nerves in his chest. He took a seat in  one of the flimsy plastic chairs there, and you took a seat across from him in a chair of your own.

As you took out your materials and set them up, you could feel Kyungsoo watching you intently. “Feel free to do any pose you like, I’m not picky,” you joked lightly. 

He hummed in agreement, hands coming up to rest on top of the table. His fingers twined together, and he gave a small cough, trying to shake off the nerves. Despite you often being on his mind, he was still shy about being in such close proximity with you. 

Finally, with pencil and sketchbook in hand, you looked up to see him staring straight at you, face blank. Upon closer glance, you could detect something else in his eye: excitement? Could Kyungsoo be just as giddy about being next to you as you were about him? 

“Perfect,” you whispered to yourself, jumping right into your drawing. 

The only sounds in the room were of the wall clock, ticking away the seconds and the scratching of your pencil on paper. Occasionally, you had to reach for your favorite eraser, getting rid of a line you had overdrawn or a lightening up a shadow that you had made too dark. 

You began to worry that Kyungsoo’s body was getting too stiff from sitting still for so long. When you asked him if he needed a break, however, he had simply shaken his head, telling you that he was fine. 

It wasn’t a lie; Kyungsoo was truly fine. In fact, he was more than fine. Watching you immerse yourself in your work was entrancing, almost addicting. The way you would sneak glances at him before working away furiously at your sketchbook intrigued Kyungsoo. He thought of something Junmyeon, his old friend from high school had once told him.

“People who truly love what they’re doing are always the brightest. They’re so caught up in their passions that nothing else matters. Seeing someone throw all of themself into their work inspires me to find something that makes me feel the same.”

At the time, Kyungsoo had brushed it off as another one of Junmyeon’s flowery speeches. His friend was known for spontaneously dropping pep talks on anyone and everyone who was close enough to listen. But now, seeing you like this made him realize how right Junmyeon had been.

“How long have you been drawing?” he asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

You hummed in thought, the sound sweet to Kyungsoo’s ears before answering. “Almost four years? I started in my second year of high school because a friend recommended it, and I fell in love.”

Fell in love. 

Kyungsoo was starting to think he had fallen in love too. If his friends saw him like this, they would tease him relentlessly until the end of time. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had a crush before, he’d had his fair share of innocent crushes in the past. 

But with you, Kyungsoo felt himself falling deeper and deeper every moment he was with you. It was scary, but also thrilling to experience. It was the first time he had ever felt anything remotely like this in his life. 

“Are you a music student?” you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I saw your music sheets earlier,” you explained.

“Amateur composer,” he replied. “I work on them with my roommate. We’re still working on getting recognition though.”

“Can I listen to them someday?”

Someday. 

“Sure. They might not be that great, we’re still in the beginning stages of this project,” he admitted.

“I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” you reassured him, glancing up from your sketchbook briefly to shoot him a warm smile. 

“Are you an art student, Miss...” His voice trailed off as both of you realized you had never introduced yourselves. 

“Y/N,” you jumped in. “I can’t believe I never told you. I’m Y/N, a second year art student,” you told him. 

“Y/N,” he repeated to himself. A thrill ran through you at the way your name rolled off of his tongue, like he had been saying it for years. “I’m Kyungsoo,” he replied.

“I know.” Sensing his surprise, you pointed to his nametag with your pencil, stifling a giggle. “I saw it on your nametag the first day I was here.” 

His eyes were drawn to it too, the old nametag long forgotten. “I’ve been wearing this for so long, I guess I forgot I was even wearing it,” he said with a chuckle. 

“That’s happened to me too,” you confided in him. 

Soon you were telling him about the time you walked out of the restaurant you used to work at with your apron still on, making it halfway home before realizing you were still wearing it. 

It was easy to talk to Kyungsoo, not only because you discovered that you two were the same age, but also because you two were similar in personality. 

Both of you preferred a cozy night at home rather than out on the streets, and were both introverted in general. Kyungsoo confided in you that he was supposed to be in college, but had some difficulties and was now pursuing his dream of creating music through a different path.

“If someone out there likes it, hopefully I can get more experience working with actual people who have years of working in this industry under their belt.” 

“I hope everything works out well for you,” you told him. Your voice wasn’t laced with pity, something Kyungsoo had gotten used to when people found out he was a “college dropout”. You were genuinely interested in his career, and hoped for only the best for him. 

“Alright, I’m done! Do you want to see it?” You looked at him with eyes alight, unable to contain your excitement.

Kyungsoo nodded, just as eager as you were. 

You turned your sketchpad around, revealing a stunningly accurate depiction of Kyungsoo. He held in a breath as he examined every detail, from the rounded shape of his eyes, sharp lines of his eyebrows all the way down to the beaming smile on his lips. During your time together, Kyungsoo’s pose had gone from the passive, close-lipped smile to a more natural, cheerful one as the two of you talked. 

“It’s amazing,” he breathed out, unable to look away. “You have a talent, Y/N.” You set it down, bashfulness settling in at the compliments. “Thanks. It wasn’t only me, I’m glad I had such a great model.” 

He shook his head empatically, making eye contact with you. “This was all you.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered once more, unable to stop yourself from leaning forward. If you felt something for him before, it was nothing compared to what you felt now after getting to know more about him. Not only was Kyungsoo polite and good-looking, but he was also silly, kind and hardworking. You could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper for him. 

Across from you, Kyungsoo copied your movements, leaning in closer until there were only a couple of inches in between you. His eyes flickered down to your lips before coming back up to meet your own, tongue coming out to wet his lips briefly. 

You could feel your heart rate pick up as you moved closer, lids closing as Kyungsoo did the same. 

The two of you met, lips coming together gently, both of you too nervous to make any further moves. You found the courage to press closer, urging him carefully. To your relief, Kyungsoo responded, kissing you back. He reached up with one hand, fingertips brushing against your cheek. You shivered at the touch, when he pulled away, to your dismay. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice hushed.

“Yeah, I just... I can’t believe this is happening.” You cringed inwardly. So cheesy.

Surprisingly, Kyungsoo gave a low chuckle, hand reaching back up to caress your face with the pad of his thumb, rubbing slow circles into it. “I know.” 

You leaned into his touch, not missing the proud smile he wore as you did so. You could feel it too, the way both of you were falling simultaneously for each other. It was a scary feeling, knowing that you were slowly opening up to another person. Having someone feel the same way about you made the feeling less terrifying, and more exciting instead. This wasn’t a one-sided crush like you had believed it was in the beginning. Kyungsoo was just as enamored with you as you were with him. 

“Do you want to watch a movie together?” he murmured softly, voice hushed. 

“Right now? Won’t you get in trouble?” 

Kyungsoo shook his head, hand falling to hold onto yours before he got up, carefully pulling you along with him as he walked over to a shelf of new movies. “There’s no one here, and we’ve got the whole shop to ourselves. Do you want to pick?” 

The two of you fought playfully over movies, whines spilling from you when Kyungsoo picked a horror movie, and him trying to persuade you to pick anything other than a Disney movie. “My roommate’s been obsessed with Disney recently. If I watch another one, I think I might lose my mind,” he had told you.

“Okay,” you replied between giggles, melting Kyungsoo’s heart and distracting him momentarily from Chanyeol and his latest Zootopia obsession.  

“How about this?” You chose a classic drama, one you had never seen before.  

“Looks interesting.” Kyungsoo reached out for the DVD, but you backed away, taking the disc out of its case as you went to put it in the DVD player. 

“I want to do it once,” you told him, opening up the DVD player while Kyungsoo stood watching you, shaking his head with a grin. 

He waited until you came back, your hand entwining with his once more as you walked down the hallway together.

“Room 3?” he asked, hand over the doorknob.

“Yep.” 

“This is practically your room now,” he said as he sat down on the couch.

You took the seat beside him, arm wrapping around his as you watched him, the way the light from the TV screen reflected off of his face and cast colorful shadows there. “You mean our room,” you corrected.

He turned to look at you, smiling when he saw how the TV light shone on your face as well. “Our room,” he repeated. 

It wasn’t exactly love yet for either one of you, but you could tell that both of you were getting closer and closer to it. And you were fine with it, this heart-fluttering, unknown territory the two of you had stumbled into. 

Because you weren’t navigating this alone. 

You pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, lips curling upwards when he gave an appreciative hum. Resting your head on his shoulder, you turned your attention back to the screen, opening credits flooding it. 

Sitting here among the various stories waiting to be told through the movies, was yours and Kyungsoo’s, just barely beginning.

Just waiting to be told.

#exo #kyungsoo #kyungsoo scenario #kyungsoo fanfic #do scenario #do fanfic #writings

[ushijimawakaflockaflame-blog]

Could you write some headcannons about GOM in a Disney movie? Like, who'd be the protagonist, who'd be the frumpy sidekick, etc?

mori: LMAO THIS IS SO CUTE!!! let’s assume that the reader is a commoner protagonist and this all happens in one universe/reality. i didn’t have the heart to make any of them the enemy!! i hope this was ok…!

akashi seijuro | the prince from another village

Akashi is the prince of a neighboring kingdom that has come to steal your heart so that the two kingdoms can form an alliance

At first he assumes that you are some damsel that’s waiting to be wed to a rich prince like him, but he couldn’t be more wrong. Growing up as a commoner has taught you to be humble and independent, so you definitely didn’t need any “saving”, but it would take Akashi more than just having basic human integrity to convince him that you didn’t need to be saved

Akashi would be the type of prince to shower you in luxurious gifts that any protagonist would want for the riches or any woman that would fall for his charm. He’ll be very showy about it, making sure the whole village knows

His whole get-up is having a trusty, sassy white horse named Mayuzumi and a big velvety red cape with golden pins. He also has his family crest sewed onto all his belongings

When you somehow get some alone time with Prince Akashi (he probably tricked you into it in the garden, since everything happens in the garden), you learn that there’s more than what meets the eye. He has a persona that everyone in the village knows, but really, it’s just a front to impress his father, the King. You learn that he hates how things are run between the Kingdoms and he aims to change that, but he can’t until he gets married. You’re not sure if you want to be that person that determines it all, but you appreciate the thought, and who knows, maybe in time you will be. You’re just glad that Akashi has an ulterior motive that isn’t so superficial

aomine daiki | the thief/the adventurer

You probably don’t want to get mixed up with Aomine’s business - he’s a thief, but don’t mistake him for someone who’s dumb. In fact, he does a lot of his business face-to-face, and you’d never know he stole from you, because he has a little helper - a mischievous red panda named Kagami

He’ll either have Kagami distract the target with his cuteness while Aomine does the stealing or the other way around. The former works more than the latter, although both have very little fail rates to begin with

The only reason you know about Aomine is because, well, he’s one of your only friends! When you got your favorite toy stolen when you were little, Aomine was the one who help you get it back, while stealing some other things, too. While Aomine makes sure no one steals or takes advantage of you, you give him and Kagami meals and a place to stay if they needed it (although they always preferred to sleep under the stars - unless it was raining)

If there were stats for Disney characters, Aomine’s sneak and speech would be a solid ten, lock picking a seven (he’s broken into your house a few times), and speed a nine, with a healthy dose of hp

Whenever he hears rumors of lost treasures or pirates that have docked in town, he often drags you into the mess. You always agree because, well, what else is there to do in town? You’ve snagged some gold for yourself here and there, but there’s a price to pay for the riches. You can’t count on your two hands how many times you’ve almost died on your adventures with Aomine, although he insists you’re overreacting. Truth be told, the only real danger you’ve ever been in was almost getting turned to stone. Twice

kise ryouta | the greedy, childish king

King Kise is the powerful and youngest King of your village. His family has a long history of infamy. They have casted war between other Kingdoms, stolen from the poor so that the rich can thrive, and depleted many of the village’s resources for themselves and their extravagant parties. Kise Ryouta is no different

He is a King trying not wed any time soon because that means he’ll have to share with his Queen. Although he does want an heir, he doesn’t want one until absolutely necessary, afraid that his child will become too powerful and overthrow his title too soon

When your family wanted to save the town sorcerer, the Kises wanted to eliminate him. Only the Kise family could be the most powerful and a sorcerer meant that he was a threat to the Kise title. Ever since then, your family and the Royal family have been in a never-ending feud, but he’s aiming to break that. The minute he saw you, he pledged to himself that he would make you his wife

You try to stay away from Kise because you don’t agree with his ways, although you appreciate that he wants to end the family feud. other than that, you want nothing to do with someone so cocky and full of himself. To be honest, he’s the Gaston of the village

Whenever you reject him, he’ll stomp back to the castle and demand the impossible, like buying out all the eggs in the village. No one in the castle has the balls to keep him in line, so his advisor and right hand Kasamatsu has to keep him in his place

kuroko tetsuya | the shape-shifting sidekick

Kuroko’s favorite form is a small husky puppy that you’ve had ever since you were born. He is able to turn into almost any animal in time of need, although his most common forms other than a husky are a wolf, horse, and snake

You two are inseparable. You either leave each other’s side when you go to the bathroom or when one of you is sick. Other than that, you two eat together, sleep together, and go on adventures together. He’s saved your ass and Aomine’s ass as many times as you can count when you’ve almost died

The story of Kuroko is that the town sorcerer found him abandoned in a forest while harvesting some herbs. Because the sorcerer did not want to raise a child on his own, he enchanted Kuroko into a small puppy who wouldn’t be able to unlock his shape-shifting abilities until he was a little older. As a gift to repay some of his debt, he gave Kuroko to you so that he can grow up with you and protect you

It might sound odd, but Kuroko could not thank the sorcerer enough. If it wasn’t for him, Kuroko would have been dead, and even if he was locked in a spell, he’s forever grateful to the sorcerer that he at least spent his youth with you

At the age of 18, the spell will become undone, in which Kuroko will turn back into a human. Now that you two will no longer need each other’s protection, you are both free to live your own lives. In all honesty, Kuroko fears when this day will come, because he thinks you’ll never trust either him or the sorcerer ever again. What he also fears the most is that he might have fallen in love with you throughout your 18 years together

midorima shintarou | the diviner & the healer

Midorima’s divination abilities aren’t super strong that he goes crazy with his visions and all. It’s more of like a cloudy ability - he can predict possible outcomes but depending on how the person asking interprets the information, the outcome can change. His disclaimer before giving predictions is always that the future is never set in stone

Although he’s humble when giving his disclaimers and explaining the extent of his ability, he’s almost always right either way

Whenever you, Aomine, and Kuroko get into trouble and hurt yourselves, Midorima often scolds you both because he “saw it coming” and that he “could have told you to be more careful around that time”. You get a lot of “I told you sos” and he’s like the naggy aunt you’ve never had

There are some things that healing potions can’t fix, so that’s when Midorima comes into the picture. While potions uses a more natural approach to healing, Midorima solely uses his magic, though it comes at a cost. Every time he heals, a fraction of his life is taken away. He says that’s what the stars predicted for him, so he’s come to terms with knowing he’s going to live half as old as his comrades. He’ll try to not use his healing powers too much. He’ll work with the sorcerer to see if there are any potions that can do some of the work for him so that he doesn’t use too much magic

Has a familiar that’s a black cat named Takao

murasakibara atsushi | the sorcerer

Too lazy to do anything on his own, so he uses magic literally like all the time. He’s not afraid to hide it, either. When he was younger, the villagers had almost burned him at the stake, but when they realized he wasn’t looking to fight and that he could be of use in case of war, they let him stay. It’s amazing how he’s lived this long (100+ years) to be quite honest

As a sorcerer, he also makes potions. He’ll make all types of healing potions, poisonous potions (within reason), and strengthen potions, but never love potions. He doesn’t care how much gold he’s offered or how many threats he’ll receive, he’ll just enchant them to kill each other if they annoy him too much. He’s known to be brutal….

You’ll go to Murasakibara when you or anyone you care about is sick or if he needs the company. He doesn’t have many friends because he doesn’t really make an effort to make any and you’re the only one that doesn’t annoy him. He is also in debt to you and your family, who has saved him from being burned at the stake a few times. He thinks of you as his child some times, but don’t dare tease him about it or you might wake up vomiting hairballs

On your voyages or trips with Kuroko and/or Aomine, you always visit him to stock up on essentials. He’ll give you the extra strong stuff because it’s his way of telling you to be careful and come back safely, although he’ll never admit it

In return for all the potions and herbs, you offer him food and he gladly accepts. Even though he could probably enchant someone to do it for him, he can only enhance their skills so much, and their cooking never turns out as good as yours, anyways

#????!!! ARE THESE DISNEY TROPES?????? #I TRIED #gom #generation of miracles #akashi #akashi seijuro #aomine #aomine daiki #kise #kise ryouta #kuroko #kuroko tetsuya #midorima #midorima shintarou #murasakibara #murasakibara atsushi #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basuke #knb #knb headcanons #kuroko no basket headcanons #kuroko no basuke headcanons

[soto-translates]

Saiyuki Reload Blast Anthology: Saiyuki OVERNIGHT + extras

Thank you @seiten-taisei for sharing this, and a bunch of drama CDs!  Go here to check out what she's shared.  Go here for links to my translations of the other stories in this anthology.

Goku helps a baby panda in this last story of the anthology.

P110 Saiyuki OVERNIGHT Kouga Yun Baby Panda: Mother, humans are interesting.  They don’t eat bamboo. Mama Panda: Well, you mustn’t go near humans.  Oh my, what happened to your leg? sfx: munch munch Goku: I’m hungry!! sfx: Guwah Goku: Hey, don’t we have anything to eat!?

P111 Goku: I’m sick of camping out!! Gojyo: Shut it.  We get it already. Hakkai: The map must be old.  There’s no village either... Goku: Food food food.  I can’t sleep like this! sfx: flail flail Narration: Matter of life and death Sanzo: Suck it up.  Noisy... Narration: Totally composed Narration: Flexible Gojyo: It’s just one night; you won’t die. Hakkai: Though there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to eat tomorrow. Ahahaha. Narration: Thoroughly prepared

P112 sfx: Jaw drop Hakkai: Well sfx: tadah Hakkai: I have some manju. Goku: Seriously!?  Great job Hakkai!! Hakkai: I bought them in the previous town just in case.  There’s only one per person though. Goku: Aw yeah. Gojyo: Wait!! Goku: Huh? sfx: tummy rumble Gojyo: Just one ain’t enough.  If you’re a man it should be all or nothin’, life or death!! sfx: babaaaam Gojyo: Not one per person, winner takes all four: a battle royale!! Goku: Whaaat!?

P113 Gojyo: Rock, paper Goku: Uwaaah sfx: crack Gojyo: You don’t play, you lose!!  Scissors. sfx: pop Hakkai: Ah, I got lured in. Gojyo: Dog-eat-dog, I eat manju. Goku: No fair, pervy kappa!!  Waah. sfx: pompf Sanzo: Quit fucking around.  Servants should suck it up.  Hand them over to Sanzo-sama.  It’s just food... Gojyo: Tyrant!  Boo!  Boo! Goku: You don’t play you lose!  Boo!  Boo! Hakkai: Ahahaha.

P114 Goku: That’s what happened.  Can you believe it? sfx: leaves rustling, panda whines Goku: So then I got mad and went searching for food. sfx: toss Goku: There, that’s better, yeah? Mama Panda: That can’t be.  A human wouldn’t be able to loosen the trap by himself. Baby Panda: Mother, that boy was a youkai.

P115 Goku: There. sfx: ties Goku: Don’t get caught again. sfx: tummy rumble Goku: Pandas’re lucky... You can eat bamboo... sfx: tummy rumble, blowing wind Baby Panda: Are you hungry?  You can’t eat bamboo?  Come with me. Goku: Huh? sfx: rustle Baby Panda: Youkai get hungry too?

P116 Hakkai: Hm?  Sanzo?  There’s one manju left. Sanzo: Yeah.  Guess I couldn’t eat all four.  The monkey is annoying, so leave it for him. sfx: puff Gojyo: Sanzo!  You’re too nice to the monkey. Sanzo:  You just clutch your empty stomach and sleep. Hakkai: That was your bad, Gojyo. Gojyo: The starving brat just fussed too much.  Boo, boo. Sanzo: He’s filling himself up now, after 500 years of starvation.

P117 Goku: Wow!  Amazing!  That looks tasty! Baby Panda: Can you eat this? Goku: Yum!! sfx: chomp Goku: ‘S okay?  Thanks! Baby Panda: Uh huh, go ahead. Goku: All right, Imma eat ‘em all myself. Baby Panda: Go for it.

P118 Mama Panda: Son, youkai don’t eat peaches.  They eat humans when they get hungry. Baby Panda: No Mother, he ate them like they tasted good. sfx: chomp chomp Goku: ........... Baby Panda: ? What’s wrong? Goku: ............

P119 sfx: leaves falling Baby Panda: What’s wrong?  You’re not going to finish? Goku: “Sanzo, I’m hungry.” Sanzo: “Again?!  There’s no more food.” sfx: grumble Goku: “How come I’m so hungry?” Sanzo: “...... Eh, guess you can’t help it.” sfx: crush

P120 Sanzo: “You’re taking back the time you lost.  If you’re hungry, eat.  Go where you like.  Obtain what you want.  For yourself.  You’re already” sfx: hmpf

P121 Sanzo: “Free.” Goku: (thinking) You reached out and taught me.  You made me realize

P122 Goku: (thinking) that I didn’t have anything or anyone.  Loneliness, hunger, and how to ease them

P123 Goku: (thinking) You taught me all of that.  That’s the freedom you gave me. Goku: ...... Heh.  Hehehe.  I don’t believe it.  Heheh.  I’m full. sfx: Panda whines Baby Panda: You’re full now? Goku: Hehe... Did you know?  I don’t get hungry if I’m alone.  Thanks. sfx: pick pick

P124 Goku: I’m gonna take these back and eat ‘em in front of Gojyo.  Guess I can give some to Hakkai. Sanzo: “Everyone, no matter who they are, lives to ease their hunger and thirst.  But, that’s not limited to the hunger of the body.  It’s the hunger of the soul, too.”

P125 Baby Panda: Mother, humans (youkai?) get hungry in their “soul” too. Mama Panda: Well, I don’t really understand. Goku: I’m back ♡ Gojyo: Oh!?  Whaddya bring back? Goku: I’m not giving any to you!! Hakkai: Welcome back.  We were worried, Goku.  Sanzo was waiting too. Sanzo: What are you talking about? Goku: Huh? Hakkai: Well, the manju was. sfx: hop END

P126 Saiyuki Reload Blast Anthology

P127 Saiyuki Reload Blast Anthology Author Comments

AU Congratulations on the Saiyuki Reload Blast anime and sale of the anthology.  Thank you very much for the opportunity to work with such a wonderful creation.  I look forward to seeing what lies ahead for the Sanzo Ikkou.

Akanatsu Congratulations on publication of the Saiyuki Reload Blast Anthology!  I was able to draw for the Saiyuki Gaiden Anthology too, so I’d be happy if you read that as well!

Usatoru I am so grateful I was able to participate in this!  I had a lot of fun drawing.  I wasn’t able to put him in this time, but my favorite is Hazel.

Ueda Shinsyu Congratulations on 20 years of Saiyuki!  I’m very happy to have been able to participate in the Anthology at this memorable point in time.  Goku is becoming more and more manly, and I look forward to seeing how he continues to grow and where the story goes from here.

Katagiri Ikumi Before I knew it, the mini Goku-chan story I had planned to draw transformed into a Gojyo manga.  Congratulations on the new new new Saiyuki anime!

Endou Minari This is Endou who was supposed to be a Sanzo fan, but recently Goku’s smile has seeped into my heart.  I wonder if this is what it means to get old... My favorite character is Sharak Sanzo, and I love everything about her so much.  Also, I reread all the books to prep for this anthology, and I think Hakkai and Kanan are just too cute!  Huh?  This isn’t the place to talk about that?  Character limit?  So heartless.  It’s too bad there are so many fascinating characters and I don’t have space to write about them all.  I’m looking forward to what’s going to happen in Saiyuki, now that it’s entered the final stage and is getting more and more exciting.

P128 Kogami Nana Thank you very much for inviting me to participate in this.  Congratulations on the anime!  I really love how Kougaiji interacts with Lirin-chan.  I love Lirin-chan’s personality, her muscular yet flexible legs, and her voluptuous chest.

Kouga Yun I’ve had a long relationship with the Sanzo gang.  I’ll always love them.  I plan to continue stalking Sanzo and watching over him for years to come.  I pray for Minekura Sensei’s health above all!

Tachibana Congratulations on 20 years of the Saiyuki series!!  The difficulty increases 1.5 times when the hotness (and nakedness) goes up!  I got to have fun and draw my beloved Gojyo getting defiant!

Suzumoto Jun Thank you so much for letting me participate in this Saiyuki Anthology!  I’m from the generic generation so this is a huge honor.  I was happy I got to draw Kougaiji because I like him.  It was fun having lots of characters appear!

naked ape Congratulations on 20 years of the Saiyuki series and the Saiyuki Reload Blast anime!  I got to draw an image that contrasts with the Gaiden anthology, and exclaim over the coolness of the Sanzo Ikkou.  Thank you very much for this opportunity!

D・Kissan Congratulations on 20 years of the Saiyuki series!  I started thinking of a plot that would let me draw a lot of the cool Sharak Sanzo-sama, but it ended up being a manga all about silly Hassan-san.  I’m so sorry...

Mikawa Verno I wanted to draw an amusing, slap-stick...-y tale about the Ikkou that wouldn’t usually be drawn, but whaaaat!?

P129 EXTRA PAGES Saiyuki Reload Blast Anthology Ichijinsha Comic Zero-Sum Presents Book front cover ※Writing is from time of comic sale

P130 EXTRA PAGES Book back cover ※Writing is from time of comic sale

P131 EXTRA PAGES Saiyuki Reload Blast Anthology Zero-Sum Anthology Series Eroko Ichijinsha

KAZUYA MINEKURA LINEUP ZERO-SUM Comics Saiyuki 9 volumes total Saiyuki RELOAD 10 volumes total Saiyuki RELOAD BLAST 1-2 Saiyuki Gaiden 4 volumes total Saiyuki Ibun 1 WILD ADAPTER 1-7 Shiritsu Araiso Koutou Gakkou Seitokai Shikkoubu 2 volumes total Minekura Kazuya short story Hachi no Su 1 volume total BUS GAMER THE PILOT EDITION 1 volume total

REX Comics BUS GAMER 1

Art Books salty dog 1-9 sugar coat excess Backgammon Rimix

Original Image Reproduction Collections Saiyuki Series Original Image Reproduction Collection Saiyuki RELOAD Original Image Reproduction Collection

Post Card Books Saiyuki POSTCARD “PURPLE” “YELLOW” “RED” “GREEN”

Fan Books Original “Saiyuki” Series Perfect Guide Saiyubito Saiyuki Character Book Sanzo & Goku / Gojyo & Hakkai

Anthologies Saiyuki ANTHOLOGY Saiyuki RELOAD BLAST Anthology Saiyuki Gaiden Anthology

Novels Novel Saiyuki 1-3     Author: Misaki Hijiri Saiyuki OMNIBUS     Author: Minekura Kazuya and others Saiyuki Kourou Tengi     Author: Uozumi Yukiko

Spine・Cover flap ※Writing is from time of comic sale

P132 EXTRA PAGES Cover illustration Minekura Kazuya

Illustration naked ape

Manga AU; Akanatsu; Ueda Shinsyu; Usatoru; Endou Minari; Katagiri Ikumi; Kogami Nana; Suzumoto Jun; Tachibana; D・Kissan; Mikawa Verno

Rerecording Koga Yun

The world begins to go crazy. You can’t take your eyes off them. Cover・Back cover ※Writing is from time of comic sale

P133 Zero-Sum Comics Saiyuki Reload Blast Anthology

Author/Anthology Publisher/Koyanagi Yoshio Publication/Kabushiki Gaisha Ichijinsha 〒160-0022 Tokyo-to, Shinjuku-ku, Shinjuku 2-5-10 Seishi Building 8F TEL [phone] (editing) TEL [phone] (sales) On sale from: Kabushiki Gaisha Kodansha (Kodansha・Ichijinsha)

Book design/Minekura Kazuya Miyata Yuusuke・Sano Yura (Banana Grove Studio)

ISBN 978-4-7580-3306-0 ©Minekura Kazuya/Ichijinsha 2017     Printed in JAPAN ID Comics ●This is a work of fiction.  There is no relation to actual people, groups, or events.

#saiyuki #translation #saiyuki reload blast #anthology

[polypetalous]

My brain on My Depression™

It’s hard to find the words to articulate what I’m trying to say in the best way possible. I suppose there’s no best way when it comes to mental illness.

I have been breathing for twenty years now. I feel as if I have just recently started living now that I’m turning into an adult. Up until a few years ago, I’ve been really struggling with myself. And that’s not to say that I still don’t struggle with myself, I’ve just gotten a little better with handling the world around me.

I didn’t have the worst childhood in the world, but I also didn’t have the greatest. And the more I think back on my younger days, the more I realize where some of my deep rooted problems are. But I didn’t have supporting people back then that believed in depression or any mental illness, really. My family figured if there were clothes on our backs, food in our mouths, and a roof over our heads, there shouldn’t be anything to complain about.

But would you tell that to a cancer patient? They have roofs and clothes and food, but they are sick. Their bodies are sick and you cannot disregard that. It’s the same with mental illnesses. Your brain is an organ in your body. You cannot ignore it and you cannot be without it. Just like if something were wrong with your heart, you can’t just ignore it and hope it goes away. You have to be aware that something is wrong and you have to fix it.

So I grew up battling my depression and anxiety by myself. I didn’t want to bother anybody with my problems. Occasionally I’d confide in friends who were battling with their own demons. But I never sought for help within my own home until I was a little older and my sister and I became closer.

We became each other’s rocks. No matter what happened, we knew who we could turn to without judgement. Without hateful comments. Without disregarding the others ailments and thoughts. My sister became one of my best friends.

I had a couple others who I began really talking to about my feelings. I felt weak. I felt discouraged, alone, like an alien to the world. I wanted to be isolated when I was with people and I wanted to be with people when I was alone. My life became a constant paradox of itself and no matter what, I was unhappy.

And I shouldn’t have been. I had good friends, an on and off again boyfriend, and a roof over my head. High school was awful, but it was manageable. But every day was the same bleak, dreadful morning. My body psychically did not want to get out of bed. My first thoughts would automatically be about dying or wishing that I didn’t wake up. Every day was a battle inside my body that I was hiding. I was trying to keep it bottled inside me because I didn’t know what else to do.

On top of anxiety and depression, bad things kept happening to me and around me. I’ve been sexually abused by four different people on several different occasions. Somebody laughed in my face about that. I was being harassed by a girl who picked on me until I finally had enough and fought her. Things just kept piling on my plate until I finally snapped.

I had enough. That was it. I didn’t want to live how I was living. I knew something needed to change. I had spent so many years sweeping things under the rug that I was finally done. I was ready to air out.

After that, it was a process of changing my mindset. To be totally honest, it doesn’t feel like I have actually done much. I still feel like myself, but I can look back and see that I have changed. It’s hard to explain exactly what I am trying to say. It’s different in your own head, I guess.

My sophomore year was the year where I told myself that this was it. That was four years ago. The second day of school I was molested by a boy I liked. This wasn’t the first time somebody had done something like this to me, but this was the first traumatic one that struck some chord in me. I don’t know why the first ones didn’t click in me, but this one really hurt me.

It wasn’t as intense as the others either. It just hurt. I was numb after that. I was isolating myself. I had told some people, but I just wanted to forget it. But it was hard - the guy lived close to my house and went to my school. I couldn’t escape him, it seemed.

For a long time I felt trapped. Somebody who never cried ended up crying every day. I still cry all the time for no real reason, just over small things. But it was just emptiness and endless tears. My old best friend and I became closer and we started hanging out everyday. It was nice to have somebody there, it made the days go by a little easier. Looking forward to seeing somebody who makes you laugh and who understands you down to your core really takes an affect on you.

I had other good people who made me feel happy as well, but my best friend really changed that year for me. We spent almost all our free time with each other and we just got by together. We were figuring it all out on our own. It was easier to manage with somebody to lean on, who you can depend on to be there all the time without hesitation.

When we started becoming close again, I had made the decision that I didn’t want to feel sad all the time. It was exhausting to constantly feel like living wasn’t worth it. I was even too sad to actually kill myself. All I wanted was to feel okay. I wanted to be alive as much as I didn’t want to. It’s physically heartbreaking to live like that. To feel like you’re suffocating and everybody around you doesn’t care. And even when people say they care, your brain literally screams, “No! They’re lying! Nobody cares! Nobody cares about you!” So you just don’t want to bother anyone and you sit alone often, your chest feeling like it’s going to cave in. Some days it hurt so bad I couldn’t move. I felt like I was breaking and I didn’t want to feel like that anymore.

So I started thinking about things that make my life a little better. The small things. My best friend, ice cream, the sky, red pandas, the color purple. They’re random and little things, but they are things that when I see or have, they make things a little better. So every time I started feeling worse I would think about things that make me happy. It didn’t work all the time, but most of the time I would start to feel a little better.

After that it was a progression of seeking help. I became friends with some amazing people and I started investing my time in other people to stay away from my home life. I realized a lot of my unhappiness was coming from there, so I figured my best option was to try to do as much as I could in a day so I wouldn’t have to go home right away. It was exhausting because I was not only tired down to my core from depression, but I was always investing my time and energy into other things that I was draining myself. So it started cancelling out and as much as I’d be happy, I would feel sad underneath.

I’m not really sure what happened after that. It has all been sort of a blur now. Big things have happened to me, both good and bad. I have had many down days, but I have had a lot more up days as well. Depression doesn’t just disappear. Your mental illnesses just don’t go away. You can learn to cope along side them or you can let them devour you. And I was not about to be consumed by an invisible force. I wanted to have so much freedom and the only thing that was restricting me was myself.

The past year or so, I have been changing every day. My vision is constantly evolving. I try to keep an open mind and I try to take it one day at a time. Sometimes life is so hard. It really gets to you and you are only one person. So it’s okay to take time for yourself because you can’t do all the things you enjoy doing if you don’t exist.

And just because I’ve been growing every day and fighting my depression doesn’t mean it doesn’t get the best of me sometimes. It’s hard and exhausting to fight against yourself. It’s like some days my body and mind are at war with itself and it drains me completely. Even the days that I spend in bed will leave me too tired to move. Fatigue isn’t something I am unfamiliar with. It coexists with my depression and anxiety and nobody seems to understand that even though sometimes I can literally do nothing, I am still tired. I can sleep for twenty hours or I can sleep for two and I can’t ever feel a difference. I can take naps all day or I can go over twenty four hours without sleeping and I will still be just as tired.

I have people who try to play the “I’ve had it worse” game with me often. I don’t care who had it worse. I don’t care how much physical or mental work you’ve done in a days time. That doesn’t give people the right to invalidate my feelings and my exhaustion and my depression/anxiety.

To tell me I cannot possibly be tired or sad because I’ve done nothing/ I have nothing to be sad about is suppressing me. It has taken me years to even begin to write out my brain because nobody seems to believe me when I say I think there is something wrong with my head and I would like some help.

It’s frustrating and hard to exist like this. But I am grateful that, despite little to no support, I still want to get better. And I just have to accept the fact that some days will be tougher than others, but if I have made it this far, I can continue on.

#depression #anxitey #mental illness #mental health #dealing with depression #my life #about me #mine #idk #i just needed to get this off my chest

[imaginesethrollins]

Walkers Street (Final Part Aka Part 5)

A/N: I’d like to apologize that I’m an asshole and didn’t update it for almost two weeks?? I had rewritten this like three times and it was driving me crazy ahahahaha...ha...ha...*Clears throat* Anyway. Then I was just busy and just couldn’t sit down and write it how I wanted it. Also I didn’t feel like it would be fair to give any of you some have assessed part.

 Masterlist to WAU and Pervious Part: WAU, Part 4

Summary: You think I’m really gone give you one...Ha...No. 

Warning: Swearing, Violence

Word Count: 3000+ 

Tags: @panda-girl1999 & @lost-in-the-stories

You flinched as the bat swung over Elias’ head. Sting chuckled as Elias shuddered. “Did you fucking fools think that you would be the one’s to be punished? Ha! You are all going to watch as someone else gets beat to fuck for your mistakes!”

Sting turned on his heel and looked at everyone else. He slowly paced back and forth, his bat scraping against the pavement. Then he stopped, the bat was in front of Aj. “Well, well, well. It seems as though my bat picked you!”

Before Sting could raise the bat any higher in the air, you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind. He toppled back and fell on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tighten your choke hold on his neck.

Shouting began and things like, “Now!” “Everyone else stay down!” “Get off him!” and, “Get the guns!” were being directed around the small area, but none of it made you release your hold even as Sting shrugged in your grasp.

You could hear gunfire and when you looked were Aj would have been, he was gone as was everyone else. No one fired a single shot at you, far too afraid they’d shot Sting. Through one guy was pointing a gun at you, but Seth came up behind him and hit him over the head with Sting’s bat.

“Let go of him! We need to leave!” They rest of Stings men were shooting at your group and trying to round them back up, so far, none of them were successful.  

You released your hold and shoved him off your before rolling to your feet.  Sting placed his hands on his neck and coughed, threatening he was going to kill you. Seth grabbed your hand and began running, pulling you behind him. Shots were firing at your feet, barely missing you by inches. You both hid behind a truck. Dean and Aj were waiting there.

“What the fuck was that!?” Aj hissed, cocking a large shotgun. “You wanted to die like that!?!” Seth grabbed a pistol out of Dean’s hand and checked the clip. “If it meant everyone else getting out alive then yes!”

“Well, you’ll have to get the fuck over it! I was going to let you die!” Seth shoved the gun into your hand. “You guys going to make a b-line for that truck there-“ Seth pointed towards a large truck that was parked in the corner of the lot.

“What about a gun for you?” You asked, looking at Seth. He bit his top lip. “Seth…You’re coming to the truck right?” Dean looked away checking around the side of the car as the gunfire started up again. 

“Y/n…Listen, I love you with everything I have to give…I want you to live and if that means me staying behind to distract them…Then I’ll do it.”

You shook your head. “Don’t do this to me…” Dean looked back to you. “We need to go now if we have any chance of getting out of here alive.” 

Seth cupped your cheek and leaned forward, kissing your forehead. “If I get out alive…I will find you.”  He kissed your one last time on the lips and brushed his nose against yours. “I love you.”

He stood and tears rolled down your cheeks. “Please, Seth…” He took a deep breath and stepped out behind the truck. Gunfire began ringing out as Seth sprinted the opposite way of the truck. Aj grabbed your arm. “Come on!”

It was like everything was in slow motion. Bullets were flying past you and at your feet. Dean was shouting, “Suck my dick! You bunch assholes!” 

You looked behind you and watched Seth wave his arms in the air before running away from the men that chased him, it looked like he was laughing.

Aj pulled open the door and shoved you towards it. “Get in!” You stumbled into the truck and a sobbed escaped you as you watched a bullet rip through Seth’s shoulder. Aj pushed you further into the truck and shut the door behind him

The truck rumbled to life as Seth was tackled to the ground. Aj wrapped his arm around you as you continued to watch Seth being pulled to his knees and Sting stepping in front of him. The bat was raised above his head.

Dean took off, the truck breaking through the chainlink fence. Some walkers were stumbling towards it but Dean drove the truck right into them, the monsteras truck wheels having no problem running over them. You sobbed into Aj’s chest and his arm tightened around you.

You have no idea how long you had been on the move for. Dean hadn’t stopped driving the truck until it ran out of gas and after that you had all just moved on to a new car, driving it until there was nothing left in that one either.

Now the three of you were on foot. You had managed to scrap up enough supplies from any gas station and convenient store you came across. 

You walk behind Dean and Aj in the tree line. Just far enough inside the trees that anyone in a car wouldn’t be able to see you at first or second glance.

You looked around and had this feeling like you knew where you were. As you continued to walk everything was becoming more familiar. 

You heard the quiet chit chatter coming from Aj and Dean as the walked ahead of you, their hands resting on their weapons.

“Oh my God…” You whispered. You began walking across the road, ignoring Aj calling after you. You ducked under tree branches and stepped over roots as you pushed further into the forest. 

“Y/n!? Where are you going!?” Dean called after you. You continued to push further in, sidestepping a walker that tried to grab you.

You break through the trees and stand there for a long moment. Dean comes up behind you and Aj behind him. “The cabin…” Dean whispers. You unsheathe your knife and moved towards the cabin.

You push the door open and look inside. You boots loudly thud against the wooden floors as you walk to the hall where Seth’s room once was. You slowly open the door and stand there.

It was just the same. The sweatpants folded on the dresser, the unmade bed. A few of Seth’s arrows sat on the nightstand. 

You wondered what happened to his crossbow. Had he left it behind at Riverside? Walking further into the room, you could feel the tears welled in your eyes.

You picked one of the arrows up and a single tear rolled down your cheek. You hadn’t let yourself cry much since you left the city. 

You weren’t sure how long it had been. A couple of weeks maybe a month or so, but you knew how much was bottled up inside you.

Aj said he didn’t want to leave the state just yet. He wanted to wait a little longer. He was still in hope that someone else could’ve survived and maybe was looking for you guys.

You had zero hope. You knew that if anyone else had gotten out that they ran just like you three had, without looking back. You allowed yourself to fall into the mattress. Dean stood in the doorway, watching as you curled yourself into a ball.

Aj looked into the room and let out a sigh. “So…I take it this is where you guys met?” Dean frowned, ignored Aj and walked into the room, laying down beside you. Dean rolled you over towards him and let you bury your face into his chest and sob.

You hadn’t slept much. You would always take first watch, second even. At first, the both would fight with you about not sleeping, but once they saw why you didn’t sleep, they no longer fought with you over it.

You would wake up screaming Seth’s name and when he wasn’t there, you would begin sobbing, hands fisting in your hair as you sobbed out his name. After they both experienced that, they would just tell you to wake them if you found yourself falling asleep.

They also realized that when you woke them because you were tired, you would actually sleep, there was no screaming, no crying. It was just you curled into a ball in the front seat of the car, sleeping.

Dean took the way you were the hardest. Watching you lose who yourself began taking a toll on him. He would try everything to get you to smile. Most of the time you held a blank stare and a clenched jaw.

Dean stroked your hair as you cried into his chest, asking, “Why?” “Why did he do that?”

Both Dean and Aj agreed on staying at the cabin until you could siphon gas and get enough supplies together. No one spoke up about where it was that you’d all be going, you just all agreed that you wanted out of this place.

You had yet to leave the bed once. Dean and Aj had left a little while ago to search for supplies. They begged you to come along but you couldn’t even muster up the energy to say no.

Your head was resting against a t-shirt that once was Seth’s. You stared blankly ahead at one of his arrows. Your eyes were dry and it hurt every time you blinked. You had cried for days. Mostly through the nights until you fell asleep.

Dean had given up on trying to comfort you after the second day there. Aj tried to give you space, but fail. Seeing as every night he would end up coming in and laying by you until you had finally cried yourself to sleep.

You heard the front door open and squeak shut. Heavy footsteps sounded in the living room before making their way down the hall. Your bedroom door opened and your eyes flickered.

Dean was standing there, shirtless, his bloody shirt hanging over his shoulder. “We’re back…Are you hungry?” You shrugged. “Why don’t you come out here and eat tonight? You need to leave this room. Even if it’s just for tonight.”  

You slowly sat up and sat on the edge of your bed for a moment before standing up. You followed Dean out into the living room. Aj was standing in the small kitchen, cooking something on a camping stove. “Hey…”

You walked over to the door and pushed the screen door open, stepping out onto the porch. You sat down on the steps and looked at the small clearing. The grass was overgrown and wildflowers were sprouting up everywhere.

While you watched the grass blow in the evening wind, you heard a distant voice calling your name. You look over your shoulder to see if it was Dean or Aj, but it wasn’t. You shook your head.

As you continued to look around, you could hear the voice, it was faint and you could’ve sworn it was Seth’s voice. “Where are you?” You jerked your head to the left. That was definitely Seth’s voice. You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head. “I’ve gone off the deep end…”

“Y/n…Where are you?” Tears welled in your eyes. His voice was crystal clear. “The cabin…” You whispered, eyes looking around frantically. “I’m at the cabin…Safe and sound.”

The door squeaking behind you caused you to quickly blink back the tears and stand. “I was just coming in…” You said, brushing past Dean.

You grabbed onto a tree branch, your boots pressing against the body of the tree. You could hear Dean and Aj bickering on the porch of the cabin over what road was the best to take out of the state.

You swung your leg over a branch and pressed your back against the tree. Every night you could hear Seth’s voice telling you he was coming for you…Coming to get you.

You knew it just your mind playing tricks on you. Some weird coping thing. It never stopped you from holding onto hope. You let your shoulders drop and let out a sigh as you looked up into the Leafs.

You heard the rustling of leafs but shrugged it off to the wind that just seemed to kick up. The air was fresh and breezy. It must be spring time. 

The crack of a stick grabbed your attention. You looked down and watched the ground while flickering your eyes over to the guys every few seconds.

A walker came stumbling out of the woods, groaning loudly. You felt yourself fill with disappointment. You knew it was a long shot- an imposable shot- that Seth lived, but still, you hoped.

Dean hopped over the railing and raised an axe up high, but before he could sink the axe into its head, an arrow pierced its head. Your body froze. Had those crazy bastards found you?

You unholstered your gun and waited for someone to emerged from the trees. A small figure came sprinting out from the trees and slammed into Dean’s legs, arms wrapping around his waist. It was Jason. Dean froze and Aj raised a gun as Elias came from the trees, hands held high.

“I’m not here to hurt you! I bring no harm…” Your eyes filled with tears as you stared at Jason and Elias…They lived. They were here. You watched Aj lower his gun and stare off behind Elias.

You look down and suddenly you feel goosebumps litter your skin. Seth stood there, crossbow held in his hands, clothes filled with blood, hair pulled away from his face and once again his beard far too overgrown.

He walks further in and Dean is the first to move towards him, hugging him tightly. Seth let the crossbow fall to the ground as he hugs him back.

You wanted to move, to swing yourself from the tree, but you couldn’t muster any of your muscles to move. You hear more rustling in the trees and you watch as Tyler emerges next.

“Where is Y/n?” Seth asked, looking around. “Y/n isn’t…” Dean shook his head. “No! Y/n is in-“ “Up here…” You say. 

Seth whorls around. You force your body to move down the tree. Tyler reaches out and grabs Jason before he could lunge himself at you in excitement.

Seth moves forward and pulls you against his chest. He buries his face in your hair and you let out a sob, one that breaks Seth’s, heart.

Seth cups the back of your head and tightens his arm around your waist. Tears filling his own eyes and falling down his cheeks. Your arms created an iron cage around him, not allowing him to move even an inch away from you.

   “If this is a dream, I don’t want to ever wake up…” Seth shook his head. “It isn’t a dream, Y/n. It’s real. I’m here.” You pull just enough away to look at him, even with tears clouding your eyes you could still see his handsome face.

Seth brushes away the tears and leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m here.”

That night you lay curled up against Seth’s side, your face pressed against his chest. Everyone decided to stay at the cabin one more night and leave just before dawn.

Elias and Jason took Dean’s room across from you, Dean took the couch, he wanted to make sure Jason had a bed. Tyler laid out a few pillows and blankets on the floor in the living room, happy to be somewhere that wasn’t a car or the woods, even if it was for just one night.

You could hear Jason jumping on the bed, it continued to squeak even after Elias told him to stop and that people were sleeping. It made a small smile spread on your face. You looked up at Seth as he lay peacefully beside you. “How’d you know we’d be here? And…How did you get out of there alive?”

Seth looked down at you. “Tyler…He got hold of one of their guns and as Sting was going to swing the bat, he shot him in the shoulder. Everyone freaked the fuck out and covered him, running him towards a truck of some sort as he swore and called us crazy. Cause we’re the crazy ones right?”

“We got Jason out of the abandoned car after Tyler helped me up. I didn’t want to leave without him, without knowing he was safe at the very least. Elias shot one of the goons that were coming up behind us. He too was coming for Jason…”

“We took one of their trucks and waited a few moments, hoping that someone else had seen us, but there were walkers coming in…Tyler didn’t want to wait any longer after he had seen Fandango and Baron get ambushed by walkers and Tye get shot by one of the remaining goons.”

You sat up and turned your body towards him. You look at the bandaged spot on his shoulder. You place a hand on it, gently stroking it. 

“Elias said I was lucky that I lived…That my will to live must’ve been what kept me going cause I should’ve died…Anyone else would’ve in this world without real medical attention.”

“I ended up going back to Riverside with them…Just for a few days…I was hoping you were there. You weren’t. Obviously. I warned them about those assholes and demand my crossbow back. Fucking dicks tried to keep it.” 

You smiled a little. “I thought for sure Elias was going to stay, with the kid and all. But he said he owed you, he owed us. Tyler didn’t want to stay behind, that you were the only person he knew from his old life…So we all set out to find you.”

You looked down at your hand in his and frowned. “How’d you know we were here?” Seth shrugged. “Lucky guess.” You looked at him now and shook your head. “How’d you know?” He sighed. “You’re going to think I’m crazy…” 

He laughed. “While in Riverside I…I woke up one night, calling your name, asking where you were…And then I heard your voice telling me you were at the cabin…Safe and sound. So I said I was leaving and as I told you, everyone else came.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “I heard you voice asking…I was sitting on the porch when I heard it…I thought I had gone crazy but I answered…Then other times I heard your voice telling me you were coming for me…I really thought I had gone crazy.”

Seth sat up and pulled your near him, his lips pressing against yours. You rested your forehead against him as tears filled your eyes. “Never do that again…Never.” Seth shook his head ever so slightly. “I won’t. Never, ever again.”

He kissed you again. “I love you, Y/n.” “I love you too, Seth.”

#seth rollins imagine #seth rollins oneshot #seth rollins x reader #dean ambrose imagine #dean ambrose oneshot #dean ambrose x reader #aj styles imagine #aj styles oneshot #aj styles x reader #elias samson x reader #elias samson imagine #wwe imagine #wwe oneshot #queued fic

[darkwing-katy]

Second Chance - Part Six

(No gif because I’m posting from a hotel with crappy wifi…sorry, haha)

So our family vacation is going to throw things off a bit in terms of me posting. I probably will not be able to post on Sunday for the next two weeks, but I’ll still be writing, so when vacay is over, I’ll for sure be a ble to post a few chapters pretty fast. I already know what’s gonna happen in the next few chunks, it’s just writing them and then editing and then posting that’s the time consuming part, haha. Thanks to everyon who’s commented or messaged me and reblogged this story! It’s so amazing to see how much everyone’s enjoying it! Let me know if you wanna be tagged in upcoming chapters!

Also, special thanks to @sannvers for proofing this chunk!

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 7,876

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress offers you a second chance to save him.

Tagging: @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @hobbithorse19 @leah5684 @princessbelgoof @captainskyline @theoncergames @geeky-girl-394 @were-allstoriesinthe-end084 @brooke-supernatural16 @certainasthesvn @jordyhaley @superlokidwholock @smilesnjh @prongspower @bitchingqueenoferebor @scarletdarkholme @hemmingbaes @bae-kage @areuslow @lovelylpevensie @uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @moonbeams-and-pie @17gnomes-in-a-trenchcoat @superwholockedrosx @panda-reads-stuff @ultimatetrashlord @elenawrit @the7thsilence @blackxthexbeast @rainwing-galaxy @arkhamsnight @imoyu-trashblog @martapetrovic @ciaprincess @juggernaut-jones @admerxin13 @fangirlx26 @epicfallenismine @izzymaria1994 @loveablelulu13 @malfoy-milkovich-royalty @kylorenlover15 @banana-cat @withouthannah @stone0502 @shiroyuki18

Previous Chapter

The problem with living in a gigantic castle full of servants, you found, was that there wasn’t much for you to do besides wander around or read. Oh, sure, the servants were constantly bustling around, either cleaning or cooking or some other chore, but you were used to being productive. You loved reading, but part of the fun of reading was getting chores done in order to read.

It was your only fourth day in the castle, and you were actually bored, lying on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

“How is this even possible?” you asked yourself. Your room gave no response, earning a sigh from you. “I’m lucky. I somehow became friends with someone who fell in love with a prince and now I’m living a fantasy. People would kill to be in my shoes right now.” You sat up. “No wonder Arabella created those elaborate daydreams. She lived in a secluded mansion, and she was probably just as bored as I currently am.”

You could always visit Gaston, the darker voice in your head suggested.

You actually did want to visit him and see if his sleeping had been improved by the pillow. However, whenever you thought about bringing him breakfast, the mental image of him rubbing his thumb across your wrist popped up, making you balk at the idea. You had lain in bed for almost an hour before you’d fallen asleep last night, trying to determine his motives for such an action. Ultimately, you’d came to the conclusion it was not because he had feelings for you, but rather because he was bored and lonely and you were the only human being who took the time to speak with him.

Let’s hold off on that for now, shall we? You stood and began to dress for the day, slowly as your hand was still sore, all the while trying to figure out what to do. “I could read. I could take a long walk around the gardens. I could talk with Mrs. Potts or maybe become friends with some of the others.” Your stomach grumbled. “I could eat—yeah, I’ll definitely do that.” Your dress was now on, and you started brushing your hair. “I could write a letter to Mama and Papa. That might be good. Oh, I wonder if they’ve written me?” You twisted the (Y/H/C) strands into a braid. “But they wouldn’t know I’m living in a castle now, so if they did, the letter would be at the house in Villenueve. Which means I’d have to go there and risk running into LeFou again.”

But why is that a bad thing? You stopped and admired your braid in the mirror. “I guess it isn’t,” you said, replying to your mental question out loud. “It’s just…I don’t know. I feel bad for him.” You shook your head. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with this someday, won’t I? Might as well get it over with now.”

You pulled your boots on and laced them up, decision made. You were going into town for the day, which meant you needed to see if Belle would bring Gaston lunch.

You found her in settled into a chair in the library. Adam was nowhere to be seen, although you were sure he was somewhere nearby.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” Belle said, not looking up from her book.

“Bonjour, Belle. Can I ask a favor?”

This time, she looked at you, forehead crinkled with curiosity. “Of course. What is it?”

“I’m going into town today. I‘ll be back by supper, but I was wondering if you’d maybe bring Gaston some lunch?” You were proud of yourself for not blushing at the request. It seemed like you were finally getting used to the situation. “I’m going to bring him some food before I leave, but I wanted to make sure he’d get something between this morning and this evening.”

Belle smiled warmly at you. “Of course I can do that.”

You grinned back at her. “Thanks. You’re such a great friend, Belle.”

She laughed. “You’re not too bad yourself, (Y/N).” You rolled your eyes, which made her laugh again. “I’m joking. You’re a great friend, too.”

You tossed your hair dramatically. “I know,” you replied with a fake air of pomposity.

Belle raised a brow. “Obviously Gaston’s ego is rubbing off on you,” she said, but there was a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes.

You gasped in mock shock. “How dare you say such a thing! I’ve always known I’m a fantastic friend.”

The two of you giggled. Once you’d calmed a bit, you told your best friend farewell and made your way to the kitchen. You waved at Mrs. Potts when you saw her, and she waved back. You grabbed two apples—one for you now, and one for later—then began to pile food onto a plate for Gaston.

“I’ve never seen someone eat so much food as you do,” a small voice said behind you. You turned and saw Chip watching you as you grabbed a full loaf of bread.

“Chip!” Mrs. Potts hissed, clearly mortified at his words. He glanced at her and shrugged.

“What, Mama? I’m just saying!”

She marched over to his side and gave you an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’m afraid Chip doesn’t quite understand how rude it is to comment on a person’s eating habits.”

You laughed, fully amused by both Chip’s comment and Mrs. Pott’s reaction. “It’s quite alright. I’m not offended in any way.” You winked at Chip, who grinned at you.

“See, Mama? It’s okay! She thinks I’m funny.”

“You’re funny? Is that what you think?” Mrs. Potts rubbed his head affectionately, mussing his hair. “How about you go help Plumette dust for an hour? Then we’ll see who’s the funny one.”

Chip pouted. “Aww, Mama. I hate dusting.”

You took a bite out of your apple while Mrs. Potts chided her son. “That’s what you get for being rude like that. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before saying something!” She gave him a small push. “Off you go.”

Chip trudged off, still pouting. You tried to hide your amusement with the apple, but when Mrs. Potts turned to you, you could see that she was also amused. “I’m so sorry about him,” she apologized again.

“It’s fine, really.” You dropped your apple on the tray and lifted it.

“Do you need any help with that?”

“I’ve got it, thanks.” You smiled at the older woman and exited the dining room. From there, you went up the grand staircase and through the familiar open door that led to the cell.

“Good morning, Gaston!” you called when you were close enough.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” he called back, and you couldn’t resist a wide grin.

You opened the door and sauntered in. Gaston was standing next to the door, ready to take the tray from you. You handed it off to him and remained standing while he sat, not seeming to notice that you weren’t following suit until he glanced back up at you.

“You’re not sitting,” he stated plainly. You shook your head.

“I actually have to leave. I’m going into town today.”

Gaston’s shoulders slumped, indicating his disappointment. “Ah. Might I ask why?”

You smirked at him. “I’ve got a bet to win.”

Immediately, he perked up, a handsome smile stretching across his lips. “I see.”

“Yep.” You saw him pick up the apple you’d bitten into and lifted your hand. “That’s mine.”

His eyes flicked to your raised hand and to the apple, as if he was contemplating taking a bite just to annoy you. You cleared your throat, earning a cheeky wink from him as he tossed the fruit back to you. You caught it in your bad hand and grimaced at the twinge of pain it produced. “How’s your hand?”

“Better.” You tossed the apple to your other hand and flexed your fingers. A good night of sleep had done wonders, but it would still be another day or two before they didn’t hurt.

You thought you heard him mutter, “Good”, but when you looked back at him, he hadn’t moved or given any indication of saying anything. You chose to react as if he hadn’t spoken. “Belle will bring you food later. I’ll be back this evening.”

“Is that a promise?” He was staring at you again with those green eyes. You found yourself nodding but maintaining eye contact.

“Yes. I’ll be back tonight,” you repeated, this time more firm.

He turned back to his food. “I’ll be looking forward to hearing that story about the church, then.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped out of the cell. “You’ll be looking forward to that for a long time,” you replied. His laughter echoed down the steps with you as you left, giving you a warm feeling inside.

You did have a letter from your parents. It was tucked under a rock on the stairs that led to your small cottage. You retrieved the letter but didn’t open it. You wanted to take your time with everything today.

“Oh, there’s dust everywhere.” You stared at the interior of your house and the fine layer of dust that had settled on everything. “Well, I guess I should’ve expected that.” You rolled your shoulders, getting out the small kinks that had formed from riding, then walked over to the small cupboard where you stored your broom.

As you began sweeping your dirty house, you scolded the household items. “Oh, floor. I haven’t even walked on you in a week! Why are you like this? Table, you’re next, so don’t be laughing at the floor.” The familiarity of being home was relaxing, and soon you were singing to yourself. “How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die? It is love we must hold onto, never easy, but we try.”

Hmm, I should say hi to Maurice while I’m here.

“Sometimes our happiness is captured. Somehow a time and place stand still. Love lives on inside our hearts, and always will.”

Despite your initial complaints, the house wasn’t truly that dirty. You’d finished Maurice’s song at the same time you finished sweeping. You replaced the broom and set to work on wiping down the table and chairs, this time humming a peppier tune. You didn’t realize you were humming LeFou’s ode to Gaston until you were nearly done with it, and you paused for a moment.

He really cares about him, doesn’t he? You thought, glancing at the rag in your hand. And here I am, letting him think that Gaston is dead. You sighed and resumed wiping down the fireplace mantel. You needed to tell LeFou the truth. But it can wait a little bit longer.

You effectively killed a couple of hours by cleaning your house. You’d rearranged things a bit, you’d dusted literally everything, and you’d made your bed (which had been unmade all of this time!). You stood back to admire your work. With an appreciative nod, you grabbed the letter from your parents and stuffed it into your satchel, along with a few folded papers containing recipes that you’d stumbled across. You didn’t care if there were servants who could make a cake—you hadn’t baked anything in a long time and when you’d seen the recipe that your grandmother had always used, you’d been struck by a sudden desire to cook again.

You left the house and made your way into town. You passed by the baker, and, after a moment of consideration, bought a small meat pie to snack on. You made a contented sound when you took the first bite. Castle food was perfect, but this pie tasted like home. It tasted like sitting in Belle’s house, laughing with her and Maurice when he spilled paint all over himself. It tasted like sitting in the hills overlooking Villenueve, reading and daydreaming about grand adventures. It tasted familiar and new and wonderful and ordinary all at once.

You were so lost in your memories and the pie that you didn’t notice Peré Robert until you’d nearly run into him. Fortunately, he saw you and stepped out of the way.

“Good day, (Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in a while,” he greeted warmly.

You looked up from your pie. “Oh! Peré Robert! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there!” You held up the pie. “I was too busy enjoying this.”

The older man laughed, prompting a smile from you. “It’s quite alright. How’s the castle? Belle mentioned that you were staying there now.”

“She did?” She must’ve visited him yesterday. “It’s nice. And it’s huge! The Prince has an enormous library filled to the brim with books of all sorts—but I do miss seeing you whenever I want something new to read.”

He laughed again. “Well, I can’t say I’ll ever have quite as many books as the Prince, but you may still borrow any books you’d like from me.”

You grinned. “Thanks.” You turned to walk away, then spun back around. “I have a question, actually.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“Do you know if this town has ever been invaded?”

He frowned as he pondered your question. “I’m not sure. I haven’t lived here all my life, and I can say that there hasn’t been an invasion of any sort since I moved here.” He nodded towards the market, where you could see Monsieur Jean feeding his horses. “Monsieur Jean has lived here all his life. I’m certain he might know.”

You nodded. “Thanks.” He nodded as well, and the two of you parted ways with a wave. You took another bite of the pie before heading towards Monsieur Jean. “Hello, Monsieur Jean!”

“Why, look, it’s (Y/N)! How are you, dear girl? How’s castle life?” The older man smiled at you.

“I’m well, thanks. And castle life is good. Your wife makes the best tea.”

Jean smiled. “Ahh, yes, Beatrice has a special talent when it comes to tea. No matter what kind it is, when she makes it, it’s perfect.” He leaned in close, as if he were to whisper a secret. “She also seems to know what kind of tea will make a situation better. It’s like magic!” He winked, and you were amazed at how different Jean was now that he’d regained his memories. He was always friendly, yes, but now he seemed positively jolly.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you moved into the castle yet? I’m sure she’d love to be close to you. And Chip would love to have someone to play with.”

Jean’s smile dimmed. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “They’ve remembered me all this time, but I haven’t remembered them. What if they don’t want to be with me?”

You shook your head. “That’s not the case at all! Trust me.” You gave him a big smile.

The older man face brightened. “Really? Then I shall begin packing tonight!”

You laughed at the older man’s enthusiasm. “I do have a question, though.”

“Fire away, (Y/N)!”

You leaned against one of the stable posts. “Has Villenueve ever been invaded?”

Jean frowned. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that to be your question, but yes.” He sat on a barrel. “It was, oh, probably about fifteen years ago? Before the war.” You worked on eating your pie while he spoke. “There were a few Portuguese invaders—I suppose they were scouting the area for weak spots prior to the war. I don’t know for sure why they attacked, but they did. Perhaps they thought Villenueve was a small village and wouldn’t resist.” He chuckled. “They were quite wrong, of course.” He met your eyes with his. “There’s a reason we all loved Gaston so much, you know.”

You had just eaten the final piece and had to cover your mouth to keep it from falling out as you gasped. “What?!” you exclaimed, not bothering to worry if you were being rude by talking with food in your mouth.

Jean chuckled again. “Oh, yes. He was a young lad then, about sixteen, if memory serves, and he managed to rally us all up. I don’t know how or why he did it, but he did.”

“I’ll tell you why,” a sharp voice cut in. The two of you turned to see Madame Clothilde watching you with a sneer. “It was because of his father, Monsieur Legume. He wanted to show off.”

You stifled a snort at the name. Gaston’s last name is Legume? Why am I just now learning this? I mean, I guess I never cared too much about his last name, but wow. That’s worthy of a tease later.

Clothilde and Jean ignored you. “Now, Madame, we don’t know what happened in that house,” Jean said in an attempt to chide her.

Clothilde rolled her eyes. “I guarantee you, if he’d had a proper mother, then he wouldn’t have done it.”

“Then we would have been destroyed!”

“I’m just saying, it’s not appropriate for a man of that age to take on the responsibility of saving us!”

“Yes, perhaps so, but we’re lucky he did. He was smart and charismatic, and that’s why we survived.”

You coughed. “So…Gaston really did save the village when he was sixteen?”

Jean nodded. “Yes, he did! He saved us all, and then he went off to fight in the war and returned a Captain. Our very own hero. Until, of course, you know…” He trailed off, and the three of you remained in silence as you all remembered that night.

“Do you still think of him that way?” you asked quietly.

Clothilde scoffed and crossed her bony arms over her chest. “He went crazy that night. But he was going crazy before that. He just needed an excuse.”

Jean frowned at the older woman. “I seem to remember you were among the first to follow, Madame.”

She gave him a dirty look. “And I seem to recall you joining in as well, Monsieur.”

You suddenly felt like you needed to defend Gaston’s actions. “Maybe he truly believed that the Beast would harm the villagers. Did you ever consider that, Madame? And since you all considered him the town hero, he felt like it was his duty. His intentions may not have been completely altruistic, but that doesn’t mean you should be calling him crazy!” You felt yourself getting louder as you spoke, but you didn’t care. You knew that his main motives were jealousy and narcissism, but that didn’t give her the right to talk about him like that!

Both Jean and Clothilde were staring at you, mouths agape at your small tirade. You turned to Jean. “I hope to see you at the castle soon. Thank you for your help.” You sensed that Clothilde was preparing to respond to your rant, so you strode away before she could say anything.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” you heard LeFou call from behind. You ignored him, but he easily ran up to you, getting in front of you to force you to stop. “(Y/N),” he repeated.

“What?” you snapped.

“I couldn’t help but overhear—well, you were practically shouting!” he added when you glared at him. “I couldn’t help but overhear what you were saying about Gaston.”

“What of it?”

He flinched at your tone, reminding you of a small child. You felt a twinge of regret. “I just thought it was nice of you to defend him like that.” He stood aside to let you pass, but you remained motionless.

“Thanks,” you muttered, staring at the ground.

He clapped your shoulder, sending you forward a little. “Sorry. Do you want to take a walk?”

You nodded, sensing that this might be a good time to tell him the truth about his friend.

He motioned forwards, towards the entrance to the town. “Lead the way.” You started walking, the stout man next to you. “You know you were wrong, though,” he said as you passed the wig store. “About Gaston.”

“Yes.” You caught a glimpse of the three bimbettes through the window, giggling at each other. “I’m well aware that his motivation stemmed from jealousy towards Belle’s affection towards the prince-turned-Beast as well as an unhealthy amount of a hero complex.”

LeFou winced at your words. “Yeah,” he agreed. “So then why did you defend him?”

You had almost reached the entrance. “Because she shouldn’t be so quick to point fingers when she was just as eager to storm the castle as him. And because she shouldn’t call him crazy just because he made a few bad choices.” You considered your words, then added, “Or rather, a lot of bad choices.”

LeFou gave you a perplexed glance. “I thought you hated him,” he said slowly. “Why do you sound as if you pitied him?”

“I hated his actions towards my best friend, but I didn’t hate him as a person. Although I came pretty close once you told me what had transpired between the two of you.” You gave him a sympathetic look. “I know it can’t mean much, coming from me, but I’m sorry he did that to you.”

He smiled at you, clearly grateful. “Thanks.”

There was a silence as you began trekking up a nearby hill. It was early in the afternoon by now, and you loved the feeling of warm sunlight on your skin. I wonder if Gaston can feel the breeze in his tower.

“What’s wrong?” LeFou asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh. I hadn’t realized that.” You tried to smile, but it came out feeling forced. Now’s as good time as any to tell him, right? “LeFou, I have to tell you something.” Without realizing it, you started walking faster. The shorter man sped up to keep at your pace.

“What is it?”

You stopped and turned. You could see part of the village from here, and if you continued to the top, you might be able to see the castle in the distance. “I…” Just tell him already! your mind screamed. “I…you know how you were asking me if I saw Gaston fall?”

LeFou stopped walking. “Yes,” he said carefully, watching you.

Tell him! “What if I told you that I did?”

Emotions ran across LeFou’s face. Confusion, relief, fear, despair, and others that you couldn’t identify. “What?” he asked dumbly.

You sighed and started playing with your braid, unsure how to proceed but knowing you needed to. “I…you told us where he was, and Belle and I got separated. He was on a bridge between towers, and he shot the Beast. Then he fell.” You took a deep breath. “I tried to save him, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

You glanced at LeFou to see his reaction. His eyes had tears in them, but he seemed to be keeping them confined to his eyes. “So…he’s dead, then,” he mumbled, looking at the grass in despair.

“Not exactly.”

His head snapped up so fast you heard his neck pop. “What?!”

Your fingers were starting to tug apart your braid and rebraid it. “He did die, but…he’s not dead now, if that makes sense.”

“(Y/N), what are you talking about?”

A light breeze caressed you, almost as if it was encouraging you. You forced yourself to look LeFou in his dark brown eyes. The wind tossed his hair around, and he was watching you intently, hope and desperation evident on his face.

Just do it!

“He’s in a cell in one of the towers,” you finally confessed. “The Enchantress that cursed the Beast appeared to me and offered a second chance at saving him. Uhm, I took it, and I got there in time and I saved him and now he’s locked up and no one knows about it except the Prince, Belle, and myself. And you, I guess.”

LeFou opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I’m sorry. I’m confused. You said that Gaston died, and now you’re telling me he’s alive?”

You cringed. “Yes?”

LeFou took a moment to process your words. He ran his hand through his hair as he contemplated the veracity of what you were saying. “Let’s say I did believe you. Why would you of all people bother saving him?”

It took a minute for your brain to realize he was doubting you. You dropped your braid, slightly frustrated. “Because I care about him!” you exclaimed. Immediately, you threw your hands over your mouth, but it was too late. You’d already admitted it. At least you didn’t say that you love him. That would be bad.

“You do?” the shorter man asked softly.

“Just because I’m not as obvious as you with my affections doesn’t mean it’s not there.” You hadn’t meant it to sound as cold as it did, and you regretted it. LeFou’s face hardened, though his eyes were still teary. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he agreed. But at least his eyes softened at your apology. He sighed, inhaling deeply with his next breath, and then his face broke into a small smile. “But Gaston is alive?”

You returned the smile. “Yeah. He is. Alive and as annoyingly flirtatious as ever.”

He laughed loudly at that statement, and you saw a few tears break free. “Well, that’s Gaston for you. He never knows when to turn it off.”

You shook your head. “No, no he doesn’t.”

Another breeze brushed past the both of you, rustling hair and clothes. “Wait,” LeFou suddenly piped up. “The other night. Why didn’t you tell me he was alive then?”

Because I was afraid? Because I’m selfish? Because I didn’t think it was important? “I don’t know.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“Because you deserve to know.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I should’ve told you then, but I was afraid. When I saved him, I asked Adam—the prince—to keep it quiet.” You sighed. “I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea. Sooner or later, people are going to find out, and I don’t know what I’ll do then.” You waved a hand towards town. “I don’t know how they’ll react. I made an impulse decision and now I’m dealing with the consequences.”

“Do you regret it?”

You shook your head rapidly. “No! Not once.” You thought for a moment. “Well, okay, I came close once you’d told me what he’d done to you.”

LeFou’s eyes widened. “You stormed off. I didn’t think too much of it, but I remember you storming off.” He frowned. “What happened?”

“I yelled at him. And then I punched him.” You held up your bruised hand. “Didn’t do as much damage as I’d hoped, but it felt good.”

LeFou snorted. “I bet it did.” He crossed his arms and shook his head slowly. “I was right, then.”

You cocked your head and furrowed your brow. “About what?” you asked, curious.

The breeze knocked a few strands of hair into his face. He tossed his head to clear his mouth of the hair. “There’s something between you two.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off. “You’re talking about him as if you consider him a friend, even after everything he’s done. You told me just now that you care for him.” He began ticking off his fingers. “Then there’s the obvious tension between you two, the fact that he complained about you as often, if not more, than he talked about Belle….There’s something there.”

You blushed. “No, I’m afraid you’re wrong.” You glanced at the sky. The sun was bright, forcing you to squint. “I mean, I’ll confess that I feel affection for him, but it’s one-sided.” You smiled sadly to yourself. “Even if he acts a little less boorish than he used to. I think it’s because he’s bored. I’m the only one that spends time with him, you see.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw LeFou shaking his head, his nose crinkled in disagreement. “He let you punch him. It’s one thing if it’s playful and flirty, but I’m assuming it was anything but that.” He grimaced. “Not that he’d hit a woman back, but he has a temper, and he wouldn’t just take it.”

“He was probably thrown off by how furious I was,” you muttered.

“That’s the thing. Why would your anger throw him off if he didn’t care about your opinion? If you were just the woman who kept Belle away from him, your anger wouldn’t mean anything.” A cloud covered the sun, shading everything for a few minutes. “There’s a thing there. Apparently it’s an unspoken thing, but it’s there nonetheless.”

You laughed in an attempt to dissuade LeFou. “I’m telling you it’s one-sided. I like him, he’s bored, and Belle is no longer an option. There is no unspoken thing.”

He shrugged, clearly not believing you. “So then what’s he doing right now?”

“Well, Belle probably brought him some food for lunch. Usually, I do that, but since I came to town today…” You stretched your arms out. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s reading?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to visit?”

LeFou pursed his lips. “I do. Believe me, I do. But I also don’t, you know?” You nodded. “I don’t even know if we’re still friends after what happened.”

“You could always wait a few days.” You chose your next words with care, not wanting to offend him. “It would give you a chance to work out how you feel towards him. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to love someone who used and abandoned you like that.” You placed a hesitant hand on LeFou’s shoulder. “You have time.”

“Do I? How long will he be there?”

“I have no clue. Like I said, it was an impulsive decision, and I’m beginning to see how much I didn’t think this through.”

“Fair enough.”

You returned to the castle feeling much better than you had when you’d left. Being busy all day had done wonders for your mentality, and the added benefit of LeFou knowing the truth about Gaston had alleviated a vast chunk of your guilt. You hadn’t expected him to be as sweet as he was, and while that made you more angry at Gaston for how he’d treated LeFou, you also had realized that LeFou was tough underneath his nice exterior. The two of you had talked for quite some time about how to evaluate the villagers’ potential reactions to Gaston being alive. You’d also spent some time catching up with Maurice, but that had been much more brief as suppertime approached. You’d finally told the older man farewell with a hug. When you’d stepped up onto your horse, you’d been surprised by LeFou bringing you a giant satchel filled with some of Gaston’s clothing. You weren’t sure if you were going to give them to him yet, but it was considerate of his loyal friend to give them to you.

You hadn’t realized how much you wanted to see Gaston until you reached the castle. You smiled at the servants as you ran into the dining room, this time grabbing enough food for the both of you so you could eat with him instead of having to wait any longer.

“Well, look who’s back,” came Gaston’s cheerful voice as you reached the top of the stairs.

You rolled your eyes, although you knew he wouldn’t be able to see it. “Did you miss me?” you asked as you reached the cell door. He jumped up and approached you as you pulled the lever while balancing the full tray on your arm. Once the door was open, he repeated his action of taking the tray from you, which brought a smile to your face. How gentlemanly of him, you thought. You noticed that his ponytail had been retied, though it wasn’t as styled as usual, so now he looked more like his old self instead of a prisoner.

“Why? Did you miss me?” he asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

You made a face at his words, even though they were true. “Not at all,” you lied. “Did Belle come up?”

“Oh, yes. She brought me lunch, and we spent some time talking. She wasn’t quite so focused on my crimes as she was yesterday.” He eyed the tray. “Are you planning on joining me this time? There’s more food than usual.”

You couldn’t confirm vocally because that would indicate that you did indeed miss him, so instead you grabbed a bowl and leaned against the wall. “Did you enjoy your conversation?” you asked, trying to keep the subject on Belle.

Gaston grinned, showing all of his perfect teeth. You gave a mental swoon at the sight. “I always enjoy conversations with gorgeous women.”

Something about the way he said that sent a small surge of jealousy into your chest. You felt bad about it, knowing that it was caused by his obvious feelings for your best friend who didn’t reciprocate, but the jealousy was still there.

It must’ve shown in your face because his grin dimmed slightly. “What?” he asked, sounding unsure at your reaction. You didn’t answer. His next comment only added to your frustration: “I meant that as a compliment!”

You tried not to give him any proof of your feelings, instead raising the bowl to your lips and slurping some of the soup. As usual, he didn’t take the hint.

“Are you jealous of Belle?”

Damn, that was perceptive of him. You felt your face heat up, which was furthered when Gaston laughed. It wasn’t a mean laugh, but it hurt nonetheless.

“You are, aren’t you? You’re jealous.” He sauntered over to you and gave you a playful punch to your shoulder. “Admit it, (Y/N).”

You scoffed, and he poked you. “I’m not jealous. Of course you would assume that,” you denied, sliding down the wall. He followed suit, still holding the tray. His shoulder brushed against yours when he reached the ground, pushing you a little. Automatically, you pushed back with your shoulder, careful not to spill your soup. “I’m just hungry. And possibly a little concerned that once again, you’ve made this all about you.”

He blew a tuft of air out of his nose in mock disdain and set the tray down. “I did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

You slurped some more of your soup and waited patiently until he’d picked up his bowl and started eating. Then, with a smirk, you continued. “Did too.”

Gaston, not expecting your comment, made a choking sound and nearly dropped his bowl. “Mon dieu, woman, you’re stubborn!” he exclaimed, wiping his chin and glaring at you.

You shrugged in what you hoped was a coy manner. “It’s not my fault you assumed you’d won just because I stopped. You should know better by now.” You lifted your bowl to your lips. “Besides, out of the two of us, you’re clearly the more stubborn one.”

Gaston huffed. “I’m not stubborn. I’m determined. I refuse to give up until I’ve won. If anyone’s stubborn, it’s you, (Y/N).”

You raised an eyebrow. “Alright. I’ll admit it if you do.” His eyes narrowed, but he was smiling, so you continued. “I’m stubborn. Your turn.”

He laughed. “Well, I am a man of honor, so I’ll admit that perhaps I have times when I’m stubborn.” He turned his body to better see you, brushing your shoulder again in the process. “Now, I believe you have an entertaining tale to tell me.”

You frowned. What is he talking about? you wondered. It’s not like he would know about what happened in town today…

“Did you inquire about whether Villenueve was attacked?” He grinned, radiating that familiar cockiness you so loved.

Oh. That. You cleared your throat in an attempt to buy time. His grin grew wider, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And to be honest, he probably did. “I did,” you admitted, feeling your blush creep further up your cheeks.

“And?”

Is this what a bird in a cage feels like when a cat is watching it? “And…there was mention of a young man who rallied everyone against some invaders…”

“Did you happen to learn this dashing young lad’s name?” He took a bite of bread while he waited for your answer.

You muttered his name in as unintelligible a manner as you could.

“I’m sorry, what was that name again?”

You sighed, knowing the game was up and that he’d won. “Gaston,” you repeated louder.

Somehow, his grin grew more. “Again, please?” he purred, leaning in.

“Gaston!” you said, this time loud enough that he couldn’t feign deafness as a way of getting you to repeat it. Your cheeks were on fire, the warmth making its way down your neck as well.

He leaned back with that aggravatingly attractive smirk on his face. “I believe that earns me a story from you,” he said, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms over his stomach.

“It’s not that interesting, I promise you.”

“Don’t care. I still want to hear it.” He rested his head against the wall, green eyes glittering with triumph.

You sighed again and turned to face him, setting the bowl down next to you. “Fine.” You leaned against your part of the wall. “I was sixteen, and we were attending mass. I stumbled against a loose stone and grabbed onto the nearest object to stable myself. Unfortunately, that object ended up being a candelabra, which is not stable in any way, and it fell over.” You felt the corners of your mouth curve up as you relieved the memory. “It caught a tablecloth on fire before one of the altar boys rushed over to stomp it out. I thought my papa was going to kill me when we got home.” Your eyes drifted to the stones in the wall across from you, though you could still clearly see Gaston out of your peripheral. “He wasn’t happy, but when Mama started laughing about it, he did, too, and I didn’t get in trouble.”

Gaston shifted, but he didn’t interrupt.

“She always brings out the laughter in him. I don’t know how she does it, but Mama just makes everyone smile. Papa is very serious most of the time, then she’ll say something absolutely ridiculous and he smiles and it’s wonderful.” Your eyes wandered to the floor. “She taught me to read, you know. Papa wasn’t overly fond of it, but he didn’t oppose it, which I suppose I should be grateful for. He did oppose me moving here by myself, but Mama managed to convince him that I would be fine.”

“You moved here shortly after Belle and Maurice did,” Gaston said, pulling you from your reverie.

You looked at him and nodded. “Yes.” Suddenly, you were curious. “And where did the great Gaston come from?”

He gave you an odd look. “Why, Villenueve, of course.”

You sensed some hesitation from him, but you decided to press on. “And your family?”

He didn’t respond right away, which made you wonder if you were being too nosy. Finally, he shrugged. “I never knew my mother—she died giving birth to me. As for my father…well…” You thought he wasn’t going to finish, but after another moment, he continued. “My father was a hunter.”

“Is he the one who taught you how to hunt?”

The corners of his mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Yes. He taught me everything I know.”

You thought back to all the times you’d heard someone compliment Gaston’s hunting prowess. “He must be a great hunter, then.”

Gaston sneered. “He was a great hunter. I’m better.”

From his tone, you got the sense that things between Gaston and his father had been tense. I wonder why. “‘Was’? Does that mean he’s dead?”

“He died while I was fighting in the War.”

“I’m sorry.”

He scoffed. “Don’t be. There was no love lost between us.”

You frowned, not sure how to react to that statement. Of course, you knew that not everyone has a happy relationship with their parents, but you’d never experienced it firsthand. You knew that your father loved you, and he wanted what he thought was best for you. The same went for Maurice—he and Belle were a close family, one you’d been fortunate to be allowed into. For someone to not experience that with either of their parents was disturbing.

“What?” Gaston asked, shifting and catching your attention.

You shook your head. “What?”

“You’re thinking, I can see it in your eyes.” His mouth twitched. “That’s a dangerous pastime, you know.”

The seriousness broken, you shook your head. “Oh, shut it.” But you were smiling again.

“Dare I ask what you were thinking about?”

You shrugged. “Just about how different families can be.” Suddenly, you remembered the letter from your parents. I almost forgot about that!

“Forgot about what?”

Did I say that out loud? Whoops. “I received a letter from my parents, but I never read it. I’ll read it later, I guess.”

“That’s…nice.” Gaston grabbed a clump of grapes from the tray and began to toss them into his mouth. This time he managed to catch every single one with ease.

You watched him toss three grapes and catch them before blurting, “I saw LeFou today.”

“Oh?” If you’d thought that would throw Gaston’s grape-catching abilities off, you’d been mistaken. “How is he?”

“Do you actually care or are you just asking because it’s what people expect?” You would rather not get into another argument about his treatment of his friend, but you had to know.

Gaston caught the next grape in his hand. “Why must you do that?” he asked, his voice a mixture of whiny and frustrated.

You felt your forehead furrow in confusion at his question. “Do what?”

He threw the grape from hand to hand. “Make it sound like I’m heartless and selfish.”

Maybe because you are heartless and selfish? You almost replied, but held your tongue.

“I’m not. You may think it, Belle may think it, hell, even LeFou may think it now, but I’m not.” He scowled, pausing in his grape-throwing. “I did what I had to do. Perhaps it wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.”

You pursed your lips. “You didn’t have to do it, though. Why didn’t you help him and then go after the Beast?”

His arm suddenly drew back to throw the grape. You flinched, half expecting him to throw it at you in anger. He didn’t, instead throwing it out the open door of his cell. “Why does it matter?” he growled the last word. “I did what I did! Why must we keep going around in circles talking about it?”

“Because I’m trying to get you to see how wrong you were!” you snapped back, your own temper flaring. “It doesn’t matter if you thought it was the right thing to do! You don’t seem to understand how it’s affected the people around you. LeFou was heartbroken over your betrayal! You killed the Prince, which hurt my friend! Not to mention you led a town in an attack against the people they love and care about who were cursed—nevermind that they’d forgotten about them and that they were random items at that point!” You leaned forward, staring him down, hoping desperately that maybe something you’d say would actually get through that thick skull of his. “You did it, and you did it for selfish reasons, and until you realize that, yes, I’m going to keep questioning your motives and calling you out on them.” His eyes, lit with fury, glared into yours. “So maybe you should actually take the time to think about the consequences of your actions instead of trying to justify them!”

His jaw clenched. He lifted one arm to indicate the cell. “Do you honestly think I haven’t thought about that, (Y/N)? I’m locked up—already damned for my actions. The Prince could have me executed at any time, something that I’m well aware of!”

His words were like ice to your heated emotions. Before they could cool you down completely, though, you yelled your reply: “But he won’t!”

Gaston scoffed. “And how do you know that?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because I asked him¸ you idiot!”

Silence fell upon both of you at your declaration. You crossed your arms, mirroring Gaston, allowing your anger to simmer off. You were still glaring at him, daring him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat there, radiating his own anger.

As one minute passed, then two minutes, then five minutes passed in that tense silence, you felt yourself cooling down. He thought he was going to be killed any day. It hadn’t occurred to you to tell him that he wouldn’t be; once Adam had reassured you, you had let it vanish from your mind. Yet here Gaston had been for four days, each day wondering if you were bringing him his last meal. His flirtatious attitude had been a façade hiding his true fear.

So then why does he insist on acting like he doesn’t regret anything? Why does he keep up the narcissistic attitude?

Eventually, his jaw released and he exhaled deeply.

“I should’ve told you. I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me that you’d be worried about that.” On impulse, you reached forward and put a hand on his calf. You hoped it came across as reassuring. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes flicked to your hand and back to your face. You couldn’t read the emotions on his face; he kept it schooled. But then he sighed again, and you felt his entire body relax. “Why did you ask him in the first place?” he asked.

Because I didn’t want to watch you die again. “Because I wanted to know what would happen to you,” you admitted softly.

“Why?”

“Because, Gaston, I don’t think you deserve to die just because you made a few bad choices.” You released his calf and stood. He was watching you, a funny look on his face, but he didn’t seem like he had anything more to say. You brushed off your skirt. “LeFou is okay, by the way. I told him you were alive and that he could visit if he wanted, when he’s ready.” You began to make your way to the door. “He’s happy you’re alive.”

As you passed Gaston, his hand reached up to grab your wrist. He gave it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. Though he didn’t say anything, you felt as if he was trying to convey some sort of apology and thanks to you by that one touch.

You got to the door and closed it behind you. With a final look at the man in the cell, you added, “For the record, I’m happy you’re alive, too.”

“That makes three of us, I guess,” he muttered. You felt your mouth twitch.

“Good night, Gaston.”

“Good night, (Y/N).”

Next Chapter

#second chance #gaston #gaston x reader #gaston imagine #kate writes #beauty and the beast #batb

[deanwinchesterjournal]

Amon Part Nineteen

Twin and Kaz continued to float down.

“Did he just die?” Twin asked Kaz.

“We're still floating...so no? Maybe?”

The troll ran in place again and got nowhere. “How do I turn this damned spell off?”

“Kaz closed his eyes and suddenly dropped the last thirty feet at full speed. He fell to the ground coming up into a roll, completely unharmed. “Feel for the magic around you and then tell it to stop.”

Twin closed his eyes and sure enough he could feel the energy around him. Feeling like a fool he thought harshly. “Go away!”

He felt the spell beginning to fade

Using the last of the gravity the spell provided he pushed off from it and cleared the thirty feet in a single bound, landing where the rocks had slammed into the unknown elf.

“Do you know who that was?” Twin asked trying to move one of the huge chucks of rock that had fallen through the portal.

“No one I knew. Maybe a friend of the paladin?”

“I don't know that guy either.” the rocks refused to move.

“Yet both just risked their life to save us.”

“Yeah I know.” Twin said under his breath taking a step back from the rocks. “Ok, we do this my way now.”

Pulling out his sword the warrior charged at the rock, striking the center of it with the tip of his sword. The rock shattered as Twin pressed the sword further into it. Two more swings and they could see what looked like a chunk of ice under the rock.

“We need to get that ice out of there fast.” Kaz said taking his belt off and wrapping it around the block of ice.

“What about the elf?” Twin asked.

Kaz handed him the end of the belt. “That is the elf, pull.”

They both began to drag the chunk of ice out from under the rocks, both of them straining against the weight. The ice looked as if it was cracking and Kaz's eyes got wide. “Harder!”

Twin, having had enough, pushed Kaz out of the way, grabbed the belt with both hands and pulled for everything he had. The ice came loose from the rocks and went flying overhead as Twin landed on his ass.

When the ice block hit the ground it shattered, ejected the blood elf who was in a panic.

“Good not dressed like this!” Graymark screamed, one hand held high as if it could stop the rock he had seen falling on him. Realizing he wasn't crushed he looked around, and saw the troll and the panda gazing at him with an odd look.

“You're alive!” the mage said getting up.

“So are you.” Twin answered. “So we're even.”

Kaz slammed his staff down on Twin's foot.

“I mean thank you.”

Graymark walked over and gave a half bow. “My privilege. Let's get back to Orgrimmar, shall we?”

Opening a portal back the three of them walked through...

...and were thrown thirty feet to the left onto the ground.

“DAMNIT!” Graymark screamed, seeing the dirt stains in his pants. “I should have known that wasn't going to work.”

“Are you hurt?” Kaz asked.

“Look at this!” he showed the stain to the panda, who felt it.

“That's dirt, not blood.”

“I know!”

Kaz just started at him for a long few seconds and then said. “Ok, I am following him now.” and walked to follow Twin who was heading back towards the pit.

“Get out of my way paladin!” Garrosh screamed into the tauren's face.

“There are people trapped under there, move those elementals now!”

“Who do you think you are giving me orders?” the orc screamed back.

“He's the only one here trying to save lives.” Twin said. “He just saved ours.” he gestured to Kaz. “There might still be people alive down there.”

“That cliff face is going to collapse and kill more.”

“No one is dying today.” a voice called from behind them.

Thrall walked forward, the crowds parting as he passed by. “Elements guide me!”

The rocks in the cliff began to shake and then miraculously fall upwards, connecting back to the cliff face where they once belonged. It looked as if the shaman was reversing time itself the way the mountain knit itself back whole.

The Cleft was still unstable so Thrall took the materials from the earth elementals and used them to replace the chunks of rock that were now in the pit where Dalaran once was.

“I had this under control.” Garrosh roared at Thrall.

Thrall simple looked at the war chief and said. “Throne room. Now.”

Garrosh looked like he wanted to argue but there was a crowd and it was pretty obvious he was going to get yelled at by Thrall so he simply walked off towards the throne room without a word.

Guards rushed into the newly reformed Cleft of Shadows and began to drag our survivors one by one. Some had broken limbs, others were worse off but the shamans began to set up triage points and the healing powers began to flow.

The paladin walked over and began applying what limited healing The Light granted him to the injured.

“This is why I hate paladins.” Twin muttered. “They just walk around making everyone else look bad because they have to be so good.” The warrior walked over and began to bandage some of the less critical victims with his extensive knowledge of first aid.

“What?” he said to Kaz who was looking at him funny. “I get hurt a lot and I don't have a ton of friend. You get used to bandaging yourself up.”

Kaz knelt down and began healing who he could while the blood elf tried in desperation to get the stain out of his clothes.

Twin looked at him sternly and Graymark opened his mouth to complain that what he was doing was more important and then closed it and knelt down next to the warrior. “Every used mageweave bandages? Of course you haven't because no one would be dumb enough to waste mageweave on them.”

He pulled a strip free from his stained pants and handed them to the warrior who used it to bind another wound.

“Thanks for the, you know.” Twin said in a half grunt.

“Saving your life? My pleasure.”

“I was devising a way out of it.”

Gray gave him a look.

“Most of them needed me to be on the other side of the rocks but I was thinking.”

“Thank you as well.” Kaz said to the paladin. “You both came along at the perfect time.”

The tauren nodded. “Silver Hand business brought me here, The Light led me to you two.”

“Business? I thought all you pallys did was ride around and polished your armor.”

“We also save people who are buried under tons of rock.” Vickers replied.

Twin growled as he wrapped another bandage.

Vickers ignored the growl and asked. “I suppose the two of you haven't heard any news about a blacksmith's place being burned down.”

Both Twin and Kaz paused. “We might.”

“I am here for that very same thing.” Graymark said, pausing in his ripping..

”We knew the blacksmith.” Twin said.

“The fire was set to cover a robbery.” Kaz added.

Vickers nodded. “You do know what was robbed right?”

Twin scoffed. “We should, we were on the one that killed her.”

Graymark stopped tearing and looked at the other three in amazement. “Do you know what this is?”

No one said a word.

“The four of us?”

More blank stares.

“This is a Ka-Tet!”

And now blank, confused looks.

“We are all here for the same reason! Fate has bound us together to solve this problem.”

“I am bound by nothing.” Twin said. “What the hell is a Ka-Tet?”

“It's when a group of people are brought together by forces outside their control and become something greater than it's parts. It's an ancient elven concept that dates back before the sunderin...”

“Blah, blah blah. What makes you think we are bound by anything?” Twin snapped.

Vickers looked over at him. “Well we did save your life, and if I am not mistaken in the troll culture when someone save's your life you are duty bound to return the favor, no matter how long it takes.”

Kaz sighed. “In my culture karma must be restored, which would mean I would need to repay the debt them saving us has created.”

“That doesn't mean crap.” Twin said, not very convincing.

“We are all here to investigate the act of arson and the stealing of Onyxia's head.” Graymark reasoned. “That is not a coincidence.”

Twin stood up. “No, that is exactly what it is.”

“There are no coincidences.” Kaz said softly.

“You too?” he asked his friend.

The panda nodded.

Twin stood there, silently fuming for a few seconds before he let out an angry. “FINE! Maybe there is a small debt to be repaid and maybe, for right now, we are all looking for the same thing. But that is not some kaput or some crap and it does not mean we are fated to be anything.”

“You glad you got that our of your system?” Vickers asked.

“Fight me!” Twin raged at him.

“What my friend is saying, we would be honored to help you solve this crime.”

“NO, I said nothing like that.” Twin protested.

“We graciously accept.” Graymark said, ignoring the warrior.

“I didn't agree to this!”

“My name is Graymark.”

“Vickers.”

“Kâzu.”

They all looked at the troll.

“Shut up.” and went back to bandaging.