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#if you scroll down far enough to my art from last year maybe you’ll find the first version of this heuheuheue dies T-T

eideticmemory · 3 years

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TWO GHOSTS II | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Part 2! Read Part 1.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

After Hours - The Velvet Underground

Mr. Loverman - Ricky Montgomery

Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now - The Smiths

“Ramona . . .” you whine.

“I know . . . a mess.”

“I, uh,” you set your phone down, keeping Ramona’s voice on speaker. “I have to get out of this hotel, I have to get home.”

“[y/n], no.”

“No?”

“No.”

You begin changing out of your pajamas, your hands trembling as you slip on a pair of jeans. “Are you telling me I can’t go home right now? Seriously?”

“Seriously. Unless you wanna get swarmed by paparazzi, and risk leaving the hotel at the same time as him, you need to stay put.”

“This . . . this . . . is a mess. This is a huge mess, I — Ramona, I’m leaving.” You ramble, grabbing your things from the bedside dresser.

“[y/n] [y/l/n].” Ramona says, sternly. “You are my boss, but I have direct orders from your publicist to make sure you stay put. So, sit down, chill out, I’ll be there in five. And, honestly . . . you should have some wine.”

“Wha — wine? It’s seven in the morning.”

“Y’know what? You deserve it. Be there soon.”

She was already on the way when she hung up, and when she knocks on the door, you’re sat criss-cross on the bed, sipping a glass of wine. She’s right, you deserve it. You hold the fragile cup in your hand as you open the door, and she waltzes her way in.

“You calm now?” she asks.

“Medicated,” you shrug, holding the glass of wine up in the air.

“Perfect . . . so, were you ever going to tell anyone that you used to date Matthew Gray Gubler?”

You scoff, wander through the hotel room, “I didn’t date Matthew Gubler,” you take a seat on the bed.

“Okay, were you going to mention that you used to fuck Matthew Gray Gubler?” She crosses her arms.

“I . . .” you stutter, go silent in response.

“Oh, God,” she groans.

“It was a long, long time ago! It’s no one’s business, and there’s hardly any proof that it’s anything but a rumor.”

“No proof? —“ She shakes her head, pulling her iPad from her bag. As she clicks a few buttons, she adds, “Did you not see what people were saying? . . . The pictures?”

“Pictures?” You gasp, setting you glass down. “What pictures?”

Ramona sighs, and hands the iPad over to you, avoiding eye contact. You slowly take the device from her hands, and let out a shaky breath.

“The first two were posted a, um, John Hearse on twitter . . .” she explains.

“I mean, if you and Gube just . . . I’m gonna say it - fucked - one good time, the two of you could get over this whole rivalry already.”

Ramona’s words start to fade, to rescind to dust and ash, as you absorb the image in front of you. It’s old . . . and slightly blurry, but you recognize every face. John, Steve, Matthew . . . and you, sat in his lap, head on his shoulder with a huge, bright smile on your face. Matthew had his hand on your waist, practically gripping your shirt in his hand, keeping you close. The next picture, he was making you laugh, all three of you, as you looked, lovingly, into his eyes.

They were posted in response to a final picture, of you and Matthew reuniting. You looking, literally, like an idiot, in the daze of seeing him and recieving a hug. Some professional photographer had captured the whole thing.

John’s pictures are captioned: Whoaaa glad to see these two back together!

“They used to be, heh,” you chuckle dryly to yourself as you read the tweet outloud. “Inseparable, wow. Remind me to call John up later and yell at him until he cries.”

“Wh — what happened between you two?”

“Me and John? Nothing much, we were good friends,” you shrug.

“No — [y/n], c’mon . . .” Ramona groans.

“It would take,” you sigh. “So much time, and so much energy for me to tell that story right now. I don’t have it in me, Ramona, I just . . . I just want to go home.”

“The place is surrounded by paparazzi, they’re harassing every celebrity that leaves the building, and I’m pretty sure your high on their watchlist right now.”

“Yeah, I’ve mastered the art of ignoring them, I’ll be fine, just call me a ride, please,” you grumble, setting the iPad down and rising to your feet.

She sighs, giving in, giving up, “There’s one waiting for you out front.”

“Thank you,” you nod.

Your belongings are removed from the room first, carried down by an accommodating bellhop. Ramona followed you down to the lobby, trailing you, like she always did. But keeping a closer eye on you than usual. You stopped in front of the revolving door, lips pursed in a look of annoyance as you came face to face with the hoard of paparazzi.

They noticed you through the glass before you had the chance to take a breath, and if you stood still for too long, you feared it would show as weakness, a reason to be suspicious. So, you held your head up tall, took in a deep breath, and stepped into the spotlight.

You’ve mastered the look of constantly-tired-business-woman-chic. Today, you’re running off a cup of coffee, and as always, throw on jeans and a graphic t-shirt. Comfortable shoes, because those heels destroyed your feet last night.

It’s a short walk to the car, but a million and one pictures are taken of you. You smile, respectfully, do a little wave. Don’t want to look too bitter. You drown out the questions, drown out the comments, because you swear if you hear his name, you’ll roll your eyes.

Ramona gets into the car after you, and closes the door. You let out a long sigh, and sulk in your seat. “This sucks,” you mumble, the car staring the ten minute drive to your home.

“Okay, [y/n] Gubler,” she replies.

“Hey!” You sit up. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she whines. “I knew something was off last night. I could’ve helped you avoid him, I could’ve gotten his car towed, I could’ve sent him the wrong address. You just have to communicate.”

“That is . . . unprofessional, and Matthew Gubler is, apparently, very professional. And he . . .” you trail off.

“He . . ? What?”

“He, donated a very healthy amount of money to the program, which, has nothing to do with me, by the way. None of it has anything to do with me, he’s just . . . professional.” You roll your eyes.

“What the hell happened between you two?” Ramona asks, noticing your shift in tone.

“Ooh, damn!” You ignore her, looking out the window. “We should’ve stopped and grabbed donuts.”

“Fine,” she surrenders.

You were surprised to find no paparazzi surrounding your penthouse building. Ramona had packed away all your belongings, and sent someone inside to place them in your apartment.

“Stay off social media,” she tells you before you leave. “Okay? No posting.”

“Silent stalking, only. Got it.”

You hold your phone in your hand as you walk into the building, ride the elevator up to the fifth floor. It’s quiet, and it’s what you need right now. To be home alone, with your thoughts.

You crash onto the couch, face first, and groan as you roll over. Last night should’ve been joyous, and fun, and it was. But, it was supposed to be the end. It was supposed to bring peace, knowing that everything you worked for, payed off and went out with a bang.

But, because of him, and John, and these stupid pictures, it’s far from the end. A whole new storm has started, and it’s making you nauseous.

Yet, you can’t keep yourself offline. You spend hours scrolling through tweet upon tweet, instagram post after instagram post, and each and every comment is as gut wrenching as the last. The internet’s made up it’s mind, and you and Matthew Gubler are the perfect couple. You fit together, you look right together, you have history together.

A history that was better left buried.

Because, when it comes up, when you think about, and you think about that one decision that could’ve changed everything . . . you crack. You spiral. You can’t shake it for days. Weeks. You think about him, and what you could’ve been.

It’s a hurricane, and it sweeps you up everytime, even when you know it’s coming.

There’s a knock at the door, and your heart drops. It’s naive, and childish to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s him. Coming to apologize for being a dick. But the idea of it has you racing to the door, and flinging it open before you can think about it.

“Hey, Aunt [y/n]!”

“Hey,” Claire smiles. “We brought donuts.”

This is better.

The seven year old held onto your hand as you guided her and her mother in your apartment. “Oh, my goodness,” you beamed to Dorthy, earning a bright smile from her. “Is Roni with you?” You turned to ask Claire.

“She had to help her mother with something today, but I told her that I had to help you through a serious crisis.”

“Ah,” you nod. “You’ve been online, huh?”

You take a seat with Dorothea on the couch, turn on the TV. “Wanna pick something to watch?” You smile, and she nods happily, taking the remote from you.

You join Claire in the kitchen, and she hands you a cookies and cream donut. You hum happily as you take it from her, take a seat on the counter, “God, thank you.”

She nods, “Yes, I’ve been online. I’ve been tracking everything about you and your big, big night,” she chuckles. “So I was ready to run over here when I saw those pictures going around.”

“You saw them?” You gasp, horrified, with the donut hanging from your mouth.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t remember when they were taken, though?”

“Vegas, 2001,” you tell her. “You didn’t — you didn’t come with us.”

She sighs, tilts her head at you, “[y/n] . . .”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you nod, reassuringly. “I’m not going down a Matthew rabbit hole. Not right now. Y’know why? Because he is an ass, he’s rude, and disrespectful, and stirs shit up for no reason, and —“

“Whoa!” Claire exclaims. “Did I enter a time portal to 1999 or something?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you roll your eyes.

“[y/n], you knew seeing Matthew was a possibility last night, and that it would bring back all these emotions, and you swore you could handle it —“

“I did handle it! I handled it very, very well. He’s the one who lost his cool. You should’ve heard him, Claire,” you ramble. “Nothing I did tonight has anything to do with you? I’m a professional? I didn’t do it to cushion your feelings? He’s a dick! He — he threw everything in my face the minute he could, and now my name is connected to his, our history is out there for everyone to see, and . . . he probably fucking hates me,” you laugh.

You laugh.

It’s a dry laugh, a sad laugh.

Claire frowns, and steps over to you, putting her arm around your shoulders.

“He hates me,” you say. “And he probably has every reason to. But I can handle it. I can handle the emotions, I’ve handled them for a long time,” you look at her. “And it’s not my fault if he can’t do the same, right?”

Claire sighs, pushes your hair back, “No.” She shakes her head. “No, you’ve moved on. You should want him to do the same thing, and not cause anymore hurt. You deserve that.”

“Mom! Aunt [y/n]!” Dorthy calls from the couch. Her head pops up, and she grins at you two. “Best and Ballet is on!”

“Ooh, what show is that?” You chuckle, hopping down from the counter. “I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Hey,” Claire calls, grabbing onto your arm before you can walk into the living room. “It’s like everything else in show business, right? People will talk for a few days, maybe a week, right? And then it’ll fade. It’ll pass.”

You give her a nod, let her know that you hear her, and that you’re going to push through this. Because you have no choice. Because above being a celebrity, a figurehead, a boss, a producer . . . you’re a teacher. A damn good one, and the last person who’s going to change that is Matthew Gubler.

You pack him away. The idea of him. Tie him off with a neat, little bow.

Because the show must go on.

“Rolling!”

You walk across the studio, behind the cameras, watching your students on screen. “Can you get a wide shot? You’re not getting the best lighting, nor every student in one shot.” You say to the cinematographer.

“[y/n],” the director calls. “We film from this angle every episode. Why change it?”

“Because every episode, some of my best dancers are cut from the shot beside of sloppy angles and the light from the windows blinds the mirrors the cameras?”

“Those are things out of our control.”

“Oh, yeah?” you turn to him. “You wanna tell that to someone who didn’t go to film school? . . . Twice?”

He gulps, motions to the cinematographer, “Change the shot.”

You grin, order the camera woman to make the correct adjustments, “See?” You beam. “No glare.”

You walk off, Ramona trailing behind you, giving the director a pitiful smile. Once you’re away from the cameras, and the studio, you grumble, “Remind me to never be talked into hiring a male director again.

“You’re turning into Medusa.”

“What?” You look at her, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What? You’ve never seen Grey’s Anatomy? Medusa? Turns people into stone? A . . . bitch?”

“Actual Medusa was not a bitch, she was cursed by a man.”

“Okay, fair, you were cursed by a man —“

“Dooooon’t!” You roll your eyes. “I’m not Medusa, I’m very nice.”

“You’re nice to me, and to your students, and the nice ladies that do your hair and makeup. Everyone else, stone.”

“Stop.”

“I wish you would tell me what happened,” she groans. “It’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone! I’m just, worried about you, and a little nosey.”

“Ramona . . . it’s been how long since that weekend?”

“Well, well,” she stutters. “Only a week.”

“A week is a long time, I’ve moved on. I’ve avoided any and all questions on the subject, from everyone. I’ve been actively dodging it on social media. I’m doing well.”

She nods.

“Now,” you continue to walk down the hall. “I have a talk show interview tonight? What time do I have to be there?”

You stop when you realize Ramona isn’t following you. You turn around, and she stuck in her spot.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Can’t move. Been turned to stone.”

You hated the Medusa comparison wholeheartedly. But, right now, you just want to yell at whoever booked you for a late night talk show. You’re tired after a long day of work, and you’re cranky, and crabby, and maybe, just maybe . . . the comparison isn’t too far off right now.

You’re charming, sure. Let’s go with that. But now, it’s all starting to dawn on you. Here, in this dressing room that’s lit up like a christmas tree. Revealing every ounce of exhaustion in your face, in your eyes. It’s nearly ten o’clock at night, and you’re placed in an elegant, black dress that stops just above your knees. Black heels cover your feet, and your hair and makeup were done half an hour ago.

You have to figure it out. You test different ones out in the mirror. Different smiles. You have to nail the I-have-to-talk-about-myself-for-an-hour-and-laugh smile. The happy, glowing, kind smile. You think you have it when there’s a knock on the door.

You keep the smile on, don’t want to lose it. You call Ramona in, and she looks at you, curiously. “You okay?”

“Yep,” you nod, brightening your smile. “Show time?”

“Are — are you having a stroke?”

“Okay, I’m trying to put on my interview face here, you’re not helping.”

“Sorry, sorry, you look great!” You smiles.

“Ramona,” you whisper, stepping close to her. “There’s a good chance they’re gonna ask me about him, right?”

She takes a breath in, prepared to answer, but no words come out. Your eyes are wide, innocent, hopeful. And she hates to lie to you.

“Yes . . .” is all she can say. “There is a, very, very good chance they will ask you about him.”

You sigh, duck your head. And when you pick it back up, your smile is on. “Okay, let’s go.” You step out into the hallway, Ramona closing the door behind you.

It was a time portal. The door. The hallway.

Matthew’s eyes land on you at the same time you see him, and you both freeze. Ramona bites at her nails, anxiously eyeing the two of you.

You feel your body, your soul, revert. Regress in every way to embody the spirit of you, at age 18, about 18 years ago.

You scoff, meaning your next words with every fiber of your being, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@ncsls0515

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

@calm-and-doctor

@spencerreid-mgg

@reidsconverse

@sizzlingclamturtlesludge

#mine #tg #mgg #mgg fic #matthew gray gubler #esny

238 notes · View notes

redgillan · 4 years

Text

Under Pastel Skies - 3

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,587

Warnings: none

A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.

Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.

Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.

You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.

You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.

You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.

The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.

“Splotchy, I need your help.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”

It was a silly nickname.

As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.

Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.

After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.

“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”

“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”

“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”

“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”

Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”

“Scott,” you sighed.

“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”

Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.

Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.

“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”

“And Wanda?”

“She sends postcards from time to time.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”

“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”

You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.

If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.

The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.

“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.

You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.

He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.

Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.

“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”

“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”

“Cute,” you grinned.

“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”

You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”

“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”

Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”

Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”

“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”

“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”

You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.

Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.

He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.

You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”

It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.

“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”

You snorted. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.

You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.

You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.

After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.

You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?

You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.

“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.

“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.

“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”

You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.

“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.

“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”

He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”

Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.

“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”

You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.

He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”

“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”

You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.

You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”

Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.

“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.

You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.

A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.

“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.

You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.

You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.

Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.

Part 4

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barns imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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dimpled-gukkie · 4 years

Text

Call Me A Thief

a/n: Happy birthday Shay @today-we-will-survive !!!!! I can’t believe we’ve only celebrated two birthdays of yours thus far. It feels like we’ve been friends forever. Once again I’m going to say that I’m so thankful you’re my friend and thank you for being my rock and sometimes the only person I can talk to. I hope we can celebrate many more years together and that this is your best year yet! Love you - your ghost bestie/ whatever that really long one I never remember is

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader / Kim Taehyung x Reader (brief mentions of Jung Hoseok x Reader as a past relationship)

Genre: College AU, e2l, idiots to lovers, angst, fluff

Word Count: 31.3k

Warnings: mild language, minor self-hatred (more so in the form of self doubt), mentions of drinking but not descriptions, Jimin shows up tipsy, I guess name calling but it’s not that serious, a sick pet for a short minute, oc gets somewhat depressed towards the end but it’s resolved

Summary: In a series of truly misfortunate events, a thief, a plantnapper and a muse-seeking photographer somehow cross paths on their admittedly huge (40,000 students huge) college campus. At first glance they’re just strangers but the more they get to know each other the more they realize their roots intertwine. If the universe had kept them apart for this long, surely it wouldn’t bring them together for a disaster. Right?

You’re an idiot. Perhaps that stupidest person you know. I mean how can you steal someone’s bag thinking it’s yours? Especially when your backpack isn’t even black and yet here you are staring blankly at the black backpack that lies limply on the table in front of you. Staring at the bag you blink listlessly at it like maybe if you blink enough times the mirage will fade and your own backpack will be in front of you. And yet several silent moments later the black backpack still sits in front of you. You don’t even know who it could belong to. Your lecture consists of 400 students, the owner of the bag could be any of them. Even worse if you email your professor about it to return the stolen item you’ll be known as the girl who stole it. You’ll be a thief. Exhaling a large sigh you slump down onto the desk in front of you, a large thumping sound ringing through the otherwise silent top floor of the library, those around you unaware of the self-damning thoughts running through your mind.

“Wake up nerd.” Jimin’s voice says and you don’t even have to look up to know he’s looming above you, enjoying the fact that he’s towering over you for once. Oh the woes of the tiny man with the tiny hands. He pushes your shoulder with said tiny hands and you’re half considering becoming weightless and letting him shove your limp body out of the chair just so the feeling of your ass hitting the hard ground will keep you from thinking about your mistake. You can’t even make fun of Jimin for being a dumb blonde now. Well, you could say he’s killing your brain cells. Your lips quirk up at the thought, placated by the idea of pinning your mistake on your innocent best friend. After all, teasing Jimin is your favorite part of the day.

“Are you dead!” Jimin whispers and you shoot your head up just to glare at him.

“Don’t act so excited. Plus if I were to die I would not want to go out in a library. How unglamorous.”

“It would be rather tasteless wouldn’t it?” He pauses for a minute before his eyes widen. “Not that anything is wrong with dying in a library. I’m sure it’s cool.” He laughs awkwardly and you can’t help but chuckle. Ever since he watched that paranormal activity movie with Yoongi, Jimin is convinced that ghosts are real and that they’re listening to every word he says. Like they’d want to follow around a guy who spends his days trying to find the most incognito insoles and browsing the hair dye section at Walgreens. But alas Jimin has always been a victim of the spotlight effect and if you had to guess would view his life as some sort of reality tv show.

“Hey whose backpack is that? Are you meeting someone?” Jimin asks, nodding to the incriminating black bag still on the table. You groan and are in the midst of throwing your head back onto the table when Jimin forcefully stops you by wrapping his hands around your face. Unfortunately, he miscalculates which results in his palms slapping your cheeks while his fingers dig into your mouth that they’d mistakenly pried open. You sputter and scrunch your face in distaste, making a similar expression to that of a baby that has just tried a lemon.

“When was the last time you washed your hands?” You screech, unaware of the eyes on you. “I can taste the day old cheeto dust. You’ve infected me!” You whine, taking a swig of your water to gurgle like it’s mouthwash. “I need to eat soap or something.”

“I’m the victim here! Who knows where your mouth has been. Tell me, when was the last time you saw Jung Hoseok?” Jimin also screeches then proceeds to wince when you smack his arm.

“You ass! I haven’t seen him since we broke up a year ago, you know that.” Jimin nods while pouting, rubbing the spot on his arm like your slap stung. When he sees you looking at the movement his mouth pulls into a smirk as he rolls up his sleeve to reveal his bicep.

“Kiss it better?” He teases, yelping and jumping backwards before you can smack him again.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Ditto.”

“No one even says ditto anymore.” You scoff and he just shrugs.

“I’ll bring it back, after all I’m famous you know?”

“Just because you got ten likes on your tweet about your ex doesn’t mean you’re famous.”

“Say that to my 200 followers.” He runs his fingers through his hair, his own version of a hair flip, before returning his attention back to the incriminating item on the table. “So is someone here with you or…”

“I may have accidentally stolen someone’s backpack thinking it was mine…” You mumble, hoping that Jimin might not hear you. For a moment you think he might not have until you hear wheezing coming from beside you, Jimin practically sprawled across the floor as his laughter comes out in tiny squeaks. “It’s not funny! This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done! All the bleach fumes from dying your hair has rotted my brain. This is all your fault Jimin.” You whine, bottom lip jutted and brows furrowed as you take on the expression of a kicked puppy. Jimin pauses for a moment in his laughter to observe your behavior before letting out two more huffs.

“Aww don’t pout kitkat.” Jimin coos, pinching your cheeks between his chubby fingers as he pulls them back and forth until you crack a smile. His plush lips draw into a smile of their own, his eyes creasing as he gently taps your nose. “See kitkat it’s not that big of a deal. Do you know who it belongs to?” When you shake your head ‘no’ he frowns a little before a mischievous smile pulls at his lips.

“Well we could always look through it? To find the name of the owner of course.” Of course. Not because you’re nosey bitches or anything.

“If I see one more skull I’m going to scream.” Jimin groans, throwing his head back against your pillows as a textbook you pulled from the backpack lays in front of him.

“To be fair it is an anatomy textbook and a skull is part of the human body. They’re at least doodling things related to the subject.”

“But the angst kitkat! I feel like this person only listens to MCR or something.” He whines, displeased with the artist’s choice of subject.

“I think they’re kinda cool though. The shading’s really good and look! This one is a skull made out of butterflies.” Your fingers run along the drawing lightly, careful not to smudge the artist’s hard work but enjoying following the intricate line work.

“Besides in this notebook there’s all types of different drawings. Some marvel stuff, some succulents. I even found a cute little dog drawing!” You say, turning the notebook around to show him the little dog scrawled in the margins, its small fluffy face smiling.

“You mean I’ve been looking at skulls for nothing?”

“I mean I don’t know why you thought you’d find their name in a textbook but I thought maybe you were interested in the subject or something.” You shrug, ignoring the glare Jimin sends your way.

“You suck.” He declares, sticking his tongue out at you when you look at him. You stick yours at him in response.

“Bite me.”

“Oh I see someone’s been watching 90’s movies lately. Tell me, do you imagine finding your own heath ledger like Kat? Or perhaps you’re more of the creepy ‘I’m gonna fall for my step-brother’ type like Cher. Though personally, I got to say I’m a big fan of the ‘childhood best friends to lovers’ trope but I digress. Hey have you found any clues yet?”

“Well we know they’re an anatomy student and like art. I also found ‘JJK’ scribbled next to a drawing on a scrap of paper that fell out of one of the notebooks so I’m hoping that’s their initials. So we can go through the class roster and hopefully there’s an angsty bio/medical student with those initials.” Pulling out your laptop you migrate from the floor to the bed, pulling out the roster for your english class. Ever so slowly you scroll through the roster, thankful to find only two names with the initials JJK.: Jeon Jungkook and Jung Jaekwan.

“I think we have an easy solution here. I stalk one and you stalk the other and we see which one was more likely to be in a punk band of some sort when they were in high school.” Jimin suggests, already heading towards your closet to find the best stalker outfit.

“Or we could just find their instagrams?” You say and Jimin flicks his hand like he’s physically brushing off your suggestion.

“Already tried, both private. That means they’re probably ugly.”

“Hey my accounts are private!” You exclaim and you can tell by the way Jimin’s shoulders slightly scrunch inwards that he’s stifling a laugh.

“Case in point. Anyways, what screams sexy Joe Goldberg? Like we’re definitely going full-stalker mode but like not ‘I’m going to kill you’ yandere vibes.” Jimin ignores the pillow you throw at him, continuing to babble about the perfect outfit like he didn’t just offend you.

“This is stupid.” You grumble into the miniature walkie-talkie Jimin bought from Walmart, dressed in large sunglasses, black tights and dress, adorned with your black docs. Ever the self-proclaimed fashion icon, Jimin dressed you in every black article of clothing you owned. The sun beat down on you from above, it was rather warm for a late spring day, and you tried to ignore the way sweat began to accumulate under the black ball cap (“It’s the Joe trade mark!”Jimin exclaimed when you protested him adding that to the already questionable outfit seeing as it is almost summer).

“And stealing someone’s backpack that’s not even the same color as your own is stupid but you don’t hear me criticizing your ideas.” He snarks back at you through the small device.

“It wasn’t like I planned on it! I told you it was an accident!” You screech at him, only to scream as another voice sounds out from behind you.

“What are you doing?” You turn around to face a guy with blonde hair, an old camera clutched between his large hands as he crouches down beside you.

“What are you doing?” You parrot, mind unable to conjure up a reasonable and not weird reason for why you’re here. Here being ducked behind an overgrown bush off to the side of the life science building in hopes you’ll see Jeon Jungkook emerge from the now-finishing Anatomy 101 lecture. It’s one of four and you’re hoping that your mystery man that you’ve loosely memorized from his profile picture- although half his face is obscured by large wire framed glasses that you can’t figure out if are real or for fashion- hears your beckoning call and comes out of those double doors.

“Photography assignment.” The guy holds up the camera to justify his statement. “Are you looking for something?” He glances at the surrounding area before noticing the walkie-talkie in your hand.

“Oh I used to love those as a kid!” Snatching it from your fingers he immediately talks into it and you face palm as you imagine Jimin’s face on the receiving end. “Houston this is starship one. We are prepared to land. Houston do you hear me?” The stranger giggles, lips forming into a peculiar grin before his eyes widen when Jimin’s voice crackles through the cheap speaker.

“Listen dumbass, I’m out here before 2:00 pm trying to resurrect your mistake and you’re playing games with a stranger?! Do you not understand that I sacrificed my beauty sleep for this? I’m seeing Soyeon during lecture today and you know I like to look good for her.”

Snatching the device from the stranger you hurry to appease your best friend. “I’m sorry Jiminie! But you don’t need beauty sleep, you’re already the most handsome guy I know.”

“I’m listening.” Jimin says after your pause.

“You could rival Aphrodite herself! In fact I’m sure that’s why she led me to steal someone’s backpack so you’d lose said beauty sleep so she could have a chance at being prettier than you!” You cringe at your own words, you don’t think you’ve ever laid it on this thick, but you need Jimin. He’s the only one you know shameless enough to help you in such an endeavor, I mean you’re literally stalking someone just to find out if you have their backpack. Plus you really didn’t mean to hurt Jimin’s feelings.

“That was a bit too much for my taste but I appreciate your sentiment. You’ve been redeemed. Now tell your friend he either needs to go or help us.” When you turn to said “friend” he’s staring at you with pink lips parted, strong eye brows pulled together in confusion as you watch him try to process what just happened. You can’t believe someone’s witnessed the monstrosity of this whole situation, much less someone so handsome. It really would be your luck. You must be cursed or something.

“You stole someone’s backpack?” Ahh it seems that tiny detail is what his mind has fixated on the most.

“No not stole, accidentally took. Why would you steal someone’s bag?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He shrugs, moving to stand up and you immediately scramble up after him, thoughts of finding whoever Jeon Jungkook is long forgotten.

“You don’t understand, it was an accident! I was tired and grabbed the one nearest me before walking out. And I’m trying to return it I just don’t know who it is so I was trying to see if this guy is missing a backpack.” You ramble, too lost in your narrative to notice the way he smiles almost fondly down at you.

“And the walkie talkie?”

“Oh you see we have two suspects-“ You start only to be interrupted.

“Suspects?”

“Yes suspects, I don’t have a better word. But I’m supposed to watch for one guy and Jimin watch for another- that’s the guy who cussed me out earlier- but I got distracted and now I just missed him which means I have to sit outside this stupid hall for the rest of the day to make sure he’s not in any of the other lectures to see if he was in this one and I just realized that he could’ve missed today which means I might have to wear this stupid outfit again-“

The handsome stranger raises his hand to stop your word vomit and you give him a sheepish smile when your words finally stop pouring out. “While I would like to stick around and hear more about your detective work, I have class in approximately ten minutes so I need to get going.” He says and you try to hide the way you deflate a little.

“Oh okay.” He smiles at you one final time before jogging in the opposite direction while you watch after him. Jeon Jungkook be damned, just who was that?

After your failed attempt at locating the aloof Jeon Jungkook- not that you were really looking because your mind was clogged with thoughts of your mystery man with the pretty smile- you trudge back to your tiny apartment in hopes to get some peace and quiet. The dream is destroyed, however, when you can hear the music from your neighbor all the way down the hall by the elevators. Agitated and sweaty, you march towards their door, more than willing to be an annoying neighbor if it means you can nap.

The cheap door rattles lightly under your heavy fists and you can’t help the satisfaction it brings you. Banging on a door is truly a great way to release tension it seems. A muffled “Turn it down so I can think!” sounds through the thin wood and the music lowers just barely. They might as well have not even bothered to fiddle with the volume at all. The door swings open and a guy with shoulders almost as wide as the doorway- you don’t know whether his shoulders are just that huge or if the door is that small, maybe both- leans against it lazily as his gaze flickers down your form.

“You’re not Namjoon.” Is the thought that makes its way out of your brain and into the atmosphere, the four word sentence stilling the air between you two.

“Well you’re right there sweetheart. I’m his much more handsome older brother. And you are?” He asks and you’re rather thankful that he decided to go with it rather than think about what type of idiot states who someone clearly is not. Maybe you really are getting dumber.

“Y/n, the lovely neighbor who just wants to take a nap. Which I can’t do if your music is so loud that I can hear it all the way down the hall.” He pauses for a moment to take in what you’ve said before pressing off the door to stand straight in front of you. He towers over you and you can’t help but shrink back a little.

“Namjoon did tell me about a nice neighbor but he never gave me a name. Though since you’re complaining about my music I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re lovely.”

“Hey I had a long day!” You exclaim, raising back to your full height like that will somehow get him to take you more seriously. Though with the lazy smirk he gives you, your need to prove yourself only provides him entertainment.

“Well I’ve had a rather long day too, I’ve been babysitting all day.” A scoff of protest sounds from behind him and you try and inconspicuously look around the wide-shouldered man to see who else is inside Namjoon’s apartment. All you can see though is a random figure drowning in an oversized hoodie on the couch before the man at the door requests your attention again. Perhaps if you had looked a little harder you would’ve noticed the wire frame glasses sitting neatly on the glass end table. “Which is why I’m playing my music to relax. And drown out the incessant whining. ‘Seokjin get me water. Seokjin make me food. Seokjin do my math homework’, like I’m even good at such thing. I’m a liberal arts student.” You can’t help but laugh at the way he whines out the demands of presumably the other stranger in the apartment, his voice pitched higher than normal like he’s trying to imitate a child.

“Well Seokjin, I have just one request. Can you please turn the music down by like a third so I won’t hear it through the wall?” You bring your hands to clasp together in front of you, cocking your head to the side while batting your eyelashes up at him. He seems like the type to like aegyo. Evidently your assumption is very much wrong as he scrunches his nose in distaste.

“Please never make that face again. But I guess I can turn it down since you asked so nicely. Though next time you have a request for me at least buy me dinner first?” He says before waving at you goodbye through a laugh and shutting the door. The music now a quiet murmur in the hallway as you open your own apartment door. Odd, Namjoon never mentioned having roommates.

Apparently you too have surprise roommates as a tipsy Jimin appears at your door with a suitcase behind him as he stumbles into your apartment along with his small calico cat named Kimchi who immediately jumps out of his arms when she recognizes your apartment. “Jimin?” You say tentatively, almost like if you say his name too loud he’ll snap. “What’re you doing here at 2 a.m?”

“Mad at Yoongi. Living here now.” Is the only explanation he gives you before trudging into your bedroom, the bed creaking as he flops down on it meanwhile his suitcase still stands next to you in the living room. Kimchi pays no mind to her owner’s sad drunken form, kneading at your old couch until she finds a soft spot to curl up on.

“Jiminie, what did Yoongi do?”

“Told me he saw Soyeon making out with some guy in a bar yesterday.” Jimin sniffles, crawling over to lay his head in your lap when you sit down on the other side of your bed. Your fingers immediately weave through the soft strands gently similar to the way a mother would soothe her child.

“You’re mad because he told you?” You ask.

“Mad because he lied. Soyeon told me she couldn’t go to the movies yesterday because she had to study for an exam today. She even told me it went really well when I saw her in our com lecture. Why would Yoongi lie to me about that when he knows how I feel about her?” You can’t help the way you look down at Jimin pitifully, glad that he’s turned away from you so he can’t see the sadness in your eyes. Min Yoongi is nothing if not painfully blunt but he’s always been honest. So you know that he’s telling Jimin the truth, a truth that Jimin- blinded by his love for Soyeon that’s been growing since freshman year of college when they shared english 101- doesn’t want to hear nor accept. It’s a truth you’ve been trying to ease him into for months now, the fact that despite Soyeon knowing Jimin’s feelings she’s never made an effort to actually put effort into a relationship with him. She only drags him back in with faux affection when she can feel her hold on him begin to slip between her fingers. Jimin’s body begins to shake again as his mind drifts off to what Yoongi said again, your legs becoming slightly wet as his tears trickle onto them.

‘Aww Jiminie,” You sigh, moving a hand to wipe at his tears on the cheek available to you. “It’s gonna be okay, you and Yoongi will still be friends after this.”

“I just don’t know why he’d tell me that. Just thinking about her with someone else makes it feel like someone is stabbing me and cutting my heart out piece by piece. Make the pain go away kitkat. Please.” He whimpers and your heart breaks alongside him as tears fall down your own cheeks. You wish you could take the heartache away, you wish he’d never met Soyeon, that he found someone who loved him as much as he deserves. You wish that there was something you could do but sadly Jimin will have to get over his feelings on his own. There’s not much you can do besides wipe away his tears.

“I’m so sorry Jiminie, but it’ll get better. You’ll find someone who’ll love you more than she ever could.” it’s the only solace you can offer him at the moment and while now it does nothing you hope it plants a little seed in his mind to later sprout into hope for the future.

“Yoongi wasn’t lying was he?” Jimin says after a few minutes, voice so soft you almost miss it entirely.

“I don’t think so bub.” You whisper, brushing his hair back from his face softly.

“Can I still stay here? I just need some time away to think and figure out how to apologize.”

“Stay for as long as you need.” You tell him, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the side of his head. “What’re best friends for?”

You wake up early the next morning to Kimchi sitting on your chest, patting your face gently with her paw. “Hi sweetheart.” You say softly and she responds by rubbing her face against yours. “You hungry?” You ask her to which she meows in response. Sitting up slowly she jumps off of you and waits impatiently for you by the door, yelling at you to hurry up. Rubbing your eyes you slip on your slippers before following her to the kitchen to make sure she doesn’t wake Jimin up. Thankfully you had babysat Kimchi earlier this year and have leftover food for her which you pour into a little bowl before moving onto making breakfast for you and Jimin. Settling on pancakes, because really who doesn’t like waking up to pancakes, you head downstairs to the nearby market to buy the necessary ingredients as well as a litter box for Kimchi. You’re not really sure how long Jimin will be staying with you but judging by the fact Jimin needs time to think about just how to apologize you can only guess the blowout between him and Yoongi was pretty bad. He’ll probably be staying for at least a week to build up the courage to even face your eldest friend.

Pushing the shopping cart through the empty isles of the shop- honestly you should come here only in the early mornings because there’s no one to get in your way when you glide across the isles on the back of the cart- you pause in front of the small plant section in the corner of the store. They’re mostly succulents and little flowers for people who’ve forgotten anniversaries and need to pick up one last minute but you contemplate bringing home a little aloe vera plant. Jimin has always talked about wanting to start becoming a plant dad and maybe this will cheer him up a little. Just before you can grab it because yes you do need that little plant to add to the forest that is your apartment, it’s snatched up by someone’s grubby hands. You squawk in disbelief- yes sadly squawk but it’s also 8 in the morning so do you really care- blinking at the plantnapper in shock. “That’s my plant.” Similar to the not-Namjoon Seokjin incident your mouth moves before your mind has time to process what you’re going to say.

“Is your name on it?” The thief says and you internally gag. Ugh he’s one of those guys.

“Yes actually it’s written as ‘fuck you’ in the soil.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare at your plant clutched between his fingers forlornly. You don’t even bother to look up at his face, his identity shall be nothing but a plantnapper to you.

“Are you always this pleasant?” He says airily and you almost look up at him just from hearing the smirk in his voice but refrain. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.

“Are you always such an ass?” You quip and to your anger he laughs. He giggles like you just told him the funniest joke of the century and you can feel your insides heat up as you struggle not to throttle him.

“If I recall correctly all I did was take this plant. You’re the one who started calling me names and cussing me out.” You hate that he’s right but you’ve always been known for your stubbornness.

“I wouldn’t have said anything if you weren’t a thief.” You tell him, reaching out to grab the plant from his hands when you notice his grip slacken slightly in confusion. If only he didn’t have good reflexes as he holds the little succulent high above his head.

“Ah ah ah,” He tuts and you finally look up at him, coming face to face with large round eyes glinting with happiness. You scowl further as you realize he won and got you to look at him. “Such a shame a pretty face is wasted.” He says, you can just imagine the ear-splitting grin hidden behind his large black face mask.

“Give me my plant.” You deadpan, wanting to end the altercation all together. You’d lost the will to want it so badly as soon as he pointed out that he was in fact right and you had been the one to start this petty argument, but now your desire to not lose has won over and you’re adamant on leaving with the plant still trapped in his hands.

“Say please and I’ll consider it.” He counters, unaffected by the sharp glare you send his way.

“I saw it first!” You whine and again he giggles.

“What is this, elementary school? Well in that case, you snooze you loose!” If it weren’t for the face mask obscuring his mouth you just know he would be sticking his tongue out at you. Just the thought irks you enough to submit to his will.

“Fine, can I please have the plant?” You sigh hating the way his eyes twinkle.

“Sure thing.” He says before setting it down on the highest shelf available, one you’ll have to scale the shelf case just to grab. When he notices your expression of both defeat and annoyance his eyes crinkle once more into a large grin as he pats the top of your head lightly. “Have a nice day!” He sings before walking off in the opposite direction. You flip off his parting figure before sighing and staring at the aloe vera plant helplessly. You can’t just leave it there in case he comes back to see if you’ve managed to snag the plant. If it’s still there that means he’ll have bested you three times and you can’t have that even if he is a total stranger.

Your feet are perched on the bottom rung of the shelving as you reach up aimlessly with one hand, your mind so busy cursing out the stranger that you don’t hear the approaching footsteps of another person until a hand comes over your outstretched one and grabs the plant. Not again, you groan internally.

“Listen-“ You begin, turning around fully ready to be faced with a smirking crinkly eyed boy only to sputter when you realize it’s the guy with the camera you couldn’t get out of your head yesterday. He has a little apron on, one that all the employees wear, and a large silver name tag that displays his name so prettily.

“Were you trying to get this little guy?” He asks, voice warm and smooth like honey as he gently strokes his finger along one of the leaves of the small plant. His brown hair is like the color of milk chocolate, softened by the early morning sun and he’s so beautiful and warm you fully forget how to function. Like your brain short circuits and for a moment you forget where you are and what you were saying.

“Uhh yeah.” You manage to spit out after awkwardly gaping at him for who knows how long. “Thanks…Taehyung.” His name sounds so natural coming out of your mouth- but that’s probably just because you’re secretly a hopeless romantic who gets caught up in pretty boys much too easily- and you can’t help but wish that you’ll get to say it many more times. He gingerly hands the plant over to you and you can feel your cheeks getting hot when his fingers brush your own.

“Anytime stalker girl.” He giggles. It’s such an endearing sound.

“Y/n, my name is y/n.” You tell him, nervously fiddling with the leaves of your little plant.

“Need any help finding anything else?” He asks you and maybe- just maybe- you ask him to show you where the cat stuff is. But only because you don’t know- you do- where the cat stuff is and not because you want to spend more time with him- like how you ask his opinion on what food flavors Kimchi would like when she’s not even your cat and you have food at home.

Thankfully Jimin is still asleep when you arrive home which means you can still surprise him. You were a little stressed when you realized just how much time you had spent talking to Taehyung- just the thought of him makes you smile like a lovesick fool, grinning to yourself in your empty kitchen as you unload the groceries- but it turns out the emotional turmoil Jimin’s going through is enough to make him exhausted. Kimchi watches you mix the batter curiously from the top of the refrigerator, her tail flicking gently almost like it’s swaying to the music playing softly from your phone. “Should I make bacon?” You ask her, nodding affirmatively when she meows back at you that yes, you should.

The bacon sizzles as it hits the hot pan while you stand as far away as possible, carefully placing each strip with salad tongs. You jump when the grease pops, mind flashing back to the time Jimin almost set the dorm kitchen on fire. For someone who had worked in a restaurant during high school you would think he’d know not to put water in a hot pan of oil. Kimchi also hates the sound, her tail whacking you in the face as it flicks agitatedly. You wipe at your tongue furiously after feeling what can only be cat hair in your mouth- possibly the worst texture of all time- before making eye contact with a sleepy Jimin leaning against the hallway wall. “You’re cooking?” He asks, no stranger to finding cat hair in uncomfortable places.

“Thought I’d surprise you.” You smile awkwardly, gesturing to the pan before flinching when the oil pops.

“Breakfast in bed? Your future boyfriend will be the luckiest guy out there. I didn’t even have to put out.” Jimin laughs, disregarding the way you internally gag at the thought of being intimate with Jimin. It’s not that you don’t think he’s attractive because lets’s be honest, with his plush lips that could rival any bratz doll, thick head of black hair and amazing physique from dancing- you really should’ve took him up on taking classes with him- he’s a straight stunner. His sweet and charming albeit snarky personality only makes him even more alluring. If only you hadn’t known him for so long- more like took baths with him as babies- you’d probably see him as something more than just an annoying, lovable little brother. You say little despite him being older because this man really does act like a five year old sometimes.

“Please never put that image into my head again.” You say, ignoring the way he rolls his eyes.

“It’s your fault for imagining it. Ugh now you’re making me think about it; when will the torture end?” He whines only pausing his dramatics when you put a stack of bacon and pancakes in front of him. Immediately he slathers them in butter and syrup, completely silent as he digs in.

“Wow thank you, Y/n you’re the best! I couldn’t ask for a better best friend.” You say sarcastically, patting yourself on the back before turning to flip your own pancakes.

“Thanks you.” Jimin sings through a mouthful of food, standing up to give you a sticky kiss on the cheek in appreciation.

“Gross!” You yell, wiping your cheek on a nearby dish towel before twisting it to snap it at Jimin. He shrieks in terror and you laugh manically, plating your own breakfast before sitting besides him at the counter top. The barstools creak under your weight- although what did you expect when you bought the cheapest ones available at Ikea- and you half worry it’s going to break but thankfully you don’t end up bruising your ass today. “I did such a good job. These are delicious, wow.” This time you really do give yourself on the back, proud to say that you’ve still got it. They’re fluffy, not burned, and edible. Someone needs to cast you for top chef.

Jimin chuckles from beside you, the two of you eating in silence until Jimin notices the small aloe vera plant next to the fridge. “You bought another plant?” He says exasperated, almost like your slight plant addiction has offended him.

“Firstly I told you the more plants the better the air quality. Plus more free oxygen.”

“All oxygen is free stupid.”

“Anyways, since you wanted to be a plant dad I thought you could start out with this little guy. It should be relatively easy but I can help you if you have any questions.”

“Oh, thanks. I guess I’m a proud father of two now.” Standing up Jimin grabs the little plot, cradling it between his fingers. “It needs a name.”

“Cherry.”

“I hate cherries.” Jimin says going so far as to pucker his lips and scrunch his nose to show his distaste.

“Not cherry cherries, Cherry.” You say, sighing and rolling your eyes when Jimin doesn’t understand the clear difference. “Only the best character in animal crossing, duh.”

“She doesn’t even wear Gucci.” Jimin scoffs and you place a hand over your heart, wholly offended by the slander taking place in front of you.

“Just because she’s not a hypebeast does not make her inferior. Besides aren’t you more of a YSL guy? Gucci is their direct competition.”

“I just- Cherry and Kimchi sounds horrible.” Jimin sighs.

“Please.” You plead, pulling your best puppy dog eyes. “I went through so much just to get it.”

“Did you embarrass yourself again?” Jimin’s voice is something along the lines of a disappointed mom- the one where they just kinda sigh it out because they shouldn’t have expected you to change- and you just flash him a smile.

“If you’re asking if I was mid-scaling a case of shelves to try and get Cherry from the very top and the hottest guy I’ve ever seen caught me in the act then yes. But I only had to scale it because this jerk wanted to flex his height and put it up there so I had to climb to get it. I mean he’s not even like super tall he’s just normal tall so maybe it’s an inferiority complex. Can tall guys have those?” You ramble, mid-tangent when Jimin raises a hand to stop you.

“Fine we can name it Cherry. But just know when people ask me why that’s the name I’m blaming you.”

“You act like Kimchi is not just as weird. She’s not even mainly orange.” Feeling a pair of eyes on you you turn and come face to face with Kimchi who had left her post on the fridge to make her presence known. If she had eye brows you swear she’d be glaring since her eyes have lost their typical round shape and are more angular. “Sorry baby you know I still love you.” You tell her, rubbing the top of her head until she purrs.

“Don’t listen to her Kim, she’s lying.” Jimin whispers conspiratorially to which you gasp. Pulling her into your chest you cover her ears as you cradle her.

“Don’t put such words in her head. I even bought new food for her!”

“Are you stalking me?” A voice you’d recognize anywhere, Taehyung’s, says to your left and you swear you’ve never turned faster in your life.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You tease, chuckling to hide the way your heart races at the sight of him. HIs hair is a wavy mess today, toeing the line between bedhead and purposely but ever so sexy all the same. He’s wearing a thin, black sweater today tucked into some loose brown plaid plants and looks effortlessly good. It’s truly unfair for him to be this attractive, you’re not sure your heart- nor your stomach with the way butterflies are fluttering rampantly in your ribcage- can take it. “Besides aren’t you the one doing the stalking? After all I was here first.”

“Very true but I also caught you in the act the other day, so I can’t be too sure.” He teases, nudging your arm with his own. “So have you found the guy you’re looking for yet?” He asks, moving to sit next to a bench a few feet away and patting the spot next to him.

“Not yet, he’s more aloof than I thought.”

“A buddy of mine had his bag stolen recently too. Apparently you’re not the only kleptomaniac on campus.”

“I’m not a thief!” You exclaim, playfully slapping his shoulder as he giggles at you.

“Alright, alright.” He says throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

“Oh hey how’d your photography assignment go?” You ask, half curious and half itching to fill the silence between the two of you.

“Nothing really struck my interest.” He shrugs. “You’re actually the only thing I could think of the rest of the day.” He says it so casually like he’s talking about what he ate that day, completely unaware of the way you clam up beside him. How do you even respond to that?

Laughing awkwardly because your mind has shut down and you’ve been left to follow your useless instincts, you fiddle with the rings on your fingers. “Yeah you’re pretty interesting yourself.” You want to bash your head into the sidewalk. That’s the best you could come up with?

“Want to be my muse?” He turns to you then, looking at you like you’re the most interesting thing to him. It makes you nervous, what will he do when he finds out that you’re just average?

“If you want me to be.” You say softly, avoiding meeting his eyes. You’re mad at yourself for how shy you’ve become but you’ve never been in a situation like this before. Taehyung is just so blunt and sweet, but you’re so accustomed to loving insults that you don’t know how to respond in something that’s not sarcastic.

“I want to catch you in your element.” He says, reaching over to take your hand in his own. Your cheeks heat up instinctively and you turn away to hide it, turning back around when you hear the familiar shutter of a camera. You didn’t even realize he had it.

“I’m afraid I’m not that interesting.” You tell him earnestly, unable to hide your crestfallen expression.

“I beg to differ. I mean how many girls do you find that hide in bushes outside science lectures and use mini walkie-talkies?” You can’t help but crack a smile, imagining yourself from his point of view. That must’ve been quite the sight.

“That was a one time event. Well hopefully. I’m just kinda wishing the owner of the bag will just appear in front of me.” You sigh, looking forlornly at the life science building. You just knew the owner had to be in there somewhere.

“That’d be easy.” Taehyung laughs, his smile falling when his phone buzzes. “I have to go to class but I’ll see you again okay?”

“Oh okay. Should I give you my number then?” You ask, fumbling with your phone to bring up the contacts page.

“Sure, though I think through fate we’d meet again anyways. Don’t you think it means something that out of the 40,000 students on campus we found each other?” His eyes twinkle with mirth and you smile back at him, hoping that this is some kind of act of fate. Maybe you’ve even found your soulmate.

“I hope so.” You tell him, smile growing as a boxy grin takes over his face. You’ve never met someone so adorable. He waves at you goodbye, throwing you a cheesy kiss as he walks in the other direction, leaving you to squeal by yourself in peace.

After spending the entirety of your free time spent sitting outside the life science building looking for a face you barely remember at this point you give up. You’ll just have to bring the backpack to the lost and found and notify your professor that you found a back from your past lecture and brought it there so he could tell the class. You’d also have to look for your own backpack, your mind so focused on the fact that you had someone’s bag that it completely disregarded the fact that you didn’t even have your own. Thankfully you still have your laptop so you’ve been able to complete your home work but all your notes were in that bag. Trudging through the hallway you ignore the noise coming from next-door, praying that by the time you return from this adventure they’ll be quiet, you quickly grab the bag and head out. You’re surprised to see a frustratingly familiar face however and you make eye contact with the guy standing outside of Namjoon’s door. You’d recognize those stupid big eyes and black mask anywhere. It’s the plantnapper.

“You’re the thief?” He yells in disbelief, pointing to the backpack as if it’s incriminating. Well it is but it shouldn’t be to him. You only blink at him in surprise, still stood in the doorway to your apartment as your brain tries to process what this means. “I should figure as much after the plant incident.” He scoffs, eyes sharpening as he glares at your unresponsive form. He must know the person who owns this bag that has to be it. Or, oh no, what if he’s the guy who owns it.

Taking a moment to observe your self-declared nemesis, you take in the tattoos that poke out from his oversized black t-shirt, the man piercings in his ear, the all black (tattoos included) aesthetic. The only thing that doesn’t scream that he could like drawing skulls in his free time is the dorky bucket hat on his head. Stepping closer, you look in his eyes once again trying to imagine the ones from Jeon Jungkook’s instagram profile picture to them. It’s only when he crosses his arms at your scrutinizing gaze do you notice the wire frame glasses hanging from the collar of his shirt. Oh no, please not him. Anybody but him.

“You’re Jeon Jungkook?” You ask incredulously not believing that he’s right here in front of you. You thought the guy who drew the skulls and small plants would be a shy emo nerd not an arrogant asshole.

“So she speaks.” He says, reaching forward to wrench the backpack out of your hands. “Why’d you steal my bag anyways, thief?” He spits the word out and you glare at him, fists clenching at your side.

“I’m not a thief. I accidentally took it thinking it was mine!” You say indignantly, tired of having to retell this story so many times. You wish you would’ve just thrown it away. You would’ve if you had figured out the plantnapper’s identity sooner.

“You thought it was yours for two days? Are you stupid?” He asks and you suck on your inner cheek in irritation.

“No I was just trying to find you to return it personally, but now I wish I’d have just thrown it away or burned it.”

“Wait a minute…does that mean you’re missing your bag?” His eyes twinkle in amusement and he looks much too pleased with the situation for your liking. You liked it better when he looked angry because at least you knew what was coming.

“No.” You say, though you can hear the hesitance in your own voice at your blatant lie.

“So you’re telling me that you don’t have a blue bag covered in pins and a bunch of pink bunny notebooks?” When he notices your eyes widen because you realize he took your bag as well, a smirk takes over his already obnoxious features. “You wanna lie to me again?” He teases, grinning as he once again watches you sigh in defeat.

“Fine yes it’s mine okay? Can I have it back since you have yours?”

“Hmm I don’t know, I quite like some of the things you’ve written in the margins of your notebooks. Can you explain to me more about the sock puppet show?”

“That wasn’t me it was Jimin!” Another lie, you thought your little nephew might like it for when you babysit him, but he doesn’t need to know that. You refuse to give him any more blackmail material.

“I’m sure.” He says sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” He asks and this time it’s your turn to grin.

“Do you want an honest answer?”

“What do you know, thief.” He scoffs and you scoff in return. Who knew someone could be so irritating?

“You’re the one who stole- and still has- my backpack!” You yell at him, enjoying in the way he pokes his tongue into his cheek in irritation.

“Because you stole mine first!” He whines, petulantly stomping his foot. You don’t suppress the urge to laugh to which he frowns. “Fine you want the bag? Then go get it.” Angrily he reaches into his pocket only to come up empty before banging his head on the front door rather harshly. The thud carries down the hall.

“That was pretty loud. Is it really that empty up there?” You reach up to knock your fist against his skull just to be annoying but he swats your hand away.

“I don’t have a key.” He sighs, before beating on the door so hard that it rattles yours as well. “Seokjin!” He yells and you take a step back from him just in case any of your neighbors poke their head out to see what the commotion is about. You don’t want to be associated with him. “Jin open the fucking door!” He yells again, his voice wavering as embarrassment takes hold. His neck and ears begin to turn red, the blush spreading to his cheeks as he pounds against the door almost desperately. If he wasn’t such a nuisance and your sworn enemy you’d probably find it endearing.

“You don’t have a key to your own apartment?” You tease, leaning against your own front door as you soak in his misery. It’s about time he do something stupid in front of you. Victory tastes so sweet.

“Shut up.” He snaps, jiggling the door handle like it’ll magically unlock itself. You’re actually starting to feel bad as you watch him wither inside, fully succumbing to the embarrassment of it all.

“Hey it’s okay, maybe he’s not home.” You say softly, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from knocking again. His knuckles are red from the harsh pounding and when he turns to you with eyes somewhat watery and a giant pout on his lips your heart cracks a little. You begin to even regret being so mean to him until the door opens and he returns back to normal.

“Finally!” He yells ignoring Seokjin’s annoyed face as he scurries towards the back of his apartment where you assume his room is.

“This kid, moving in here without notice and then rudely waking me up from a nap.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, moving to stand aside as Jungkook’s footsteps get louder as he trudges back towards you.

“Here’s your bag thief. Hope I never see you again!” Throwing your backpack at you he slams the door in your face leaving you to stare at it blankly. Just when you think someone isn’t half bad they have to prove you wrong. Scoffing you turn around and head back into your own apartment, blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes on you watching through the peephole.

When Jimin arrives home you’re still brewing in agitation from your encounter with your ever so pleasant neighbor- note the sarcasm. “So I’m guessing giving the backpack back didn’t go well?” Jimin asks, flopping beside you on the couch. Kimchi immediately jumps up after him, content to lay on his lap while purring loudly. You’re a little envious that he comes back home to something happy to see him, a loneliness you didn’t know you felt creeping up on you as you now know what it’s like to come home to something. There’s only so much comfort your plants can provide. Maybe you should get a boyfriend- Taehyung pops in your mind and you instantly smile, only to scowl when the buck-toothed loser takes his place- perhaps you should just get a pet instead.

“Let’s just say I never want to see Jeon Jungkook again.” You huff, crossing your arms as his stupid smirk appears in your head. You should’ve slapped it off him. He’s lucky you’re not a violent person otherwise you would’ve.

“Would food cheer you up?” Jimin asks, eyeing you with a smile because he already knows the answer.

“Is it free?”

“Always.” Jimin laughs, taking his phone out of his pocket- careful not to disturb Kimchi too much- before dialing a number you know too well. Your local pizza restaurant is famous on campus, fancy enough that people don’t feel like they’re just eating grease like dominoes but also cheap enough that it doesn’t feel like they’re breaking the bank on literal pizza. It’s college, if people are gonna waste their money it’s for sure going to be on alcohol.

“Hi I’d like to place an order.” Jimin says, giggling when he recognizes the voice of whoever is on the receiving end. “I’m glad you answered, I missed your voice. Maybe you could deliver the pizza too so we can spend a little time together. You haven’t taken your break yet have you?” You stare at him quizzically until you realize just what the little snake is doing. You hope to never be on the receiving end of Jimin’s flirtatious advances, especially knowing that he flirts with anybody to get what he wants. “Oh how disappointing I wanted to see you.” He sighs, going so far as to pout even though they can’t see him. “Maybe you can make it up to me somehow?” He asks sickly sweet and you only stare in awe as he flashes you a brilliant smile. The rat just got a free pizza, you know it. Hanging up the phone Jimin waggles his eyebrows at you, cackling evilly like he’s some kind of witch or something.

“You didn’t think I’d pay for you did you? I don’t even pay for myself.” He snorts- yes snorts- entirely too pleased with himself for your liking.

“I can’t wait till this catches up to you.”

“Then stop benefitting from it.” Jimin shrugs and you whine at him in response.

“But the perks are so nice. Ahh I feel like a bad person but at the same time I’m not the scammer.”

“I am not a scammer. I’m just taking advantage of my pretty privilege.” Jimin says and you only further your pout.

“Why don’t I get pretty privilege?”

“You just don’t have the face for it.” He says bluntly, screeching when you smack his chest.

“Park Jimin take it back!” You continue your assault on his chest until he grabs your hands in his own, using his strength to hold them away from his body.

“I just mean you’re not good at flirting! You’re just mean and shit.” He huffs, watching your reaction skeptically to see if you’ll try and lunge for him again.

“I can flirt. And besides I’m not mean, I’m an angel.” You say, taking your hands away to place them in your lap. You focus instead on Kimchi who is so unbothered by this whole ordeal that she’s fallen asleep.

“Yeah okay.” Jimin laughs, the kinda half snort-half huff type. “And if you’re not mean why did Seokjin text me about you yelling at someone in the hallway.”

“It’s not just someone, it was Jeon Jungkook. My rival, my arch-nemesis, my most hated person. He deserved it anyways, he called me a thief! Can you believe it?” You exclaim, irked by just the thought of your previous argument. It’s been so long since someone has surpassed your indifference and gotten so under your skin that just the thought of them makes you want to punch something. You think the last time you felt like this was in eighth grade and it’s as infuriating as you remember. You hate him.

“I mean you did steal his bag.” Jimin says and you turn so fast he actually jumps.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? It was an accident!” Jimin falls silent after that, finally realizing that he’s treading on thin ice. He didn’t realize that this Jeon Jungkook was such a sore spot for you, all he wanted was to tease you a little. The two of you continue to sit in silence, the only sound being Kimchi’s soft purrs and the occasional rumble from the old air conditioning system.

You want to say something, you know Jimin didn’t mean to make you so upset but you’re not goof at explaining your feelings. Or expressing emotions. You should probably try a little harder because glancing at Jimin through the corner of your eye you can see how glossy his eyes have become. “Jiminie I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” You murmur, half ashamed and half uncomfortable with being vulnerable. It’s stupid, he’s your best friend and he’s seen you cry before but it never gets any easier. “Please don’t cry because of me. It-it hurts to see you cry.”

Jimin sniffles and you almost start crying on your own, distraught at the fact you made him cry. Despite his snarky remarks you know Jimin is quite sensitive and you’re so stupid for forgetting about that. “That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“That makes me sound like a bad person. You know I love you, I just don’t say it a lot.” You chuckle, somewhat in an attempt to lighten the mood. It’s gotten much too depressing for your liking. Hastily wiping his cheeks he smiles brightly at you and your chest doesn’t hurt as much when you realize that he’s okay.

“I love you too kitkat.” He says, opening his mouth to say something else before the doorbell cuts him off.

“Pizza!” You cheer, jumping up and heading to the door quickly. The tension in your shoulders dissipating as you distract yourself. They rise up again when you realize just who is on the other side. “No.�� You say, frowning as you’re reacquainted with his face.

“Yes.” He grins, the type that could give the cheshire cat a run for his money. “Now that’s $19.50.”

“The pizza was free.”

“I saw that but since it’s you…$19.50” He says and you scowl.

“I’m not paying for a free pizza. Besides you’re overcharging, can you even do math?”

“I’m charging for every second I have to speak to you.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one getting paid then since I didn’t chose to come to you, you came to me?”

“That makes no sense, my job is literally to deliver pizzas.” He says, shaking the box with your pizza like his red vest and the grease smeared across his cheek is not indicative of his job.

“Yeah and you’re doing a really bad job at it. So if you don’t mind,” Swiping the box out of his hand you hold it close to you before giving him a parting smile. “Goodbye.” Slamming the door in his face as he had done to you earlier, you lock it just before he can grab your handle.

“What about my tip?” He yells, banging his fist against the door. You only grin, fully indulging in the anger that seeps through his tone. Something about pissing him off gives you so much joy. Does that make you a sadist or something?

“Here’s a tip, stop bothering me!”

“That’s not even a tip, that’s a statement idiot!”

“Whatever you Bambi-looking headass!” You yell back, moving away from the door and presenting the pizza to Jimin like it’s a glorious prize. Jungkook is still banging on the door and do spite him further you have alexa play a song on full blast. It’s painful for your own ears but after letting it play for a minute, you turn it off completely only to rejoice in the fact that you can’t hear your nemesis outside the door anymore.

“I have so much I want to say but I’ll refrain for now.” Jimin says and you don’t like the way he’s looking at you. It’s almost like he knows something.

“Good idea. Now let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Two days later and you’re once again in your nearby market because Kimchi has now decided that her food is no longer good enough to eat. So to avoid your niece starving- as much as you love Jimin you refuse to co-pet-parent with him- you have to return to the store to buy her more food. You make a mental note to get a dog instead of a cat if you do decide to get a pet solely because they’re not picky about what they eat. Plus they’re rather loud with their affection which you appreciate. You can’t say you’re too mad about having to return to this store so soon though because you might get the chance to see Taehyung again. You’ve been hoping that he’d reach out to you at some point but you’re beginning to think he was serious about letting fate have you cross paths again. What if fate screws you over and you never see him again?

You almost jump in joy when you spot the back of his head- should you be concerned that you already know what the back of it looks like- unable to suppress the small squeak sound that leaves you. Why are you so embarrassing? You give him an awkward smile when he turns around, nerves calmed by the fact that he grins brightly back at you. “So we meet again.” He says and you’re pretty sure your pupils have taken the shape of hearts from how you look at him.

“Yeah.” You breathe out like you’re in a lovesick trance- yikes your hopeless romanticism is showing.

“Did you come just to see me?” He teases and you actually choke on your spit because embarrassingly yes, you partially came for him. He only chuckles at your reaction, placing a large palm between your shoulder blades to rub soothing circles while you cough your lung out. You understand now why you don’t experience pretty privilege; how can anyone find such a mess attractive?

“I came to get more cat food.” You croak out, throat sore and scratchy.

“Didn’t you just buy some a few days ago?” He asks, head cocked to the side entirely too cutely as his brows draw together in confusion. You’re pretty sure you’re swooning and you look away before he can catch you.

“Yeah but she decided it wasn’t good enough so here I am.” You laugh awkwardly. You wish the conversation flowed easier and you weren’t stuck only talking to him about either you stalking people or cat food.

The air around you turns stale as silence settles between you and you twitch nervously. The silence is unbearable and you wish to fill it. “Will you help me?” You ask, once again falling into the trap of cat food as a topic.

“Sure.” He gives you an easy smile, motioning for you to follow him to the specific aisle. Maybe you should just break out of this cycle by asking him out. Surely you’ll think of something to talk about besides cat food or stalking if you’re away from the places you associate them with.

“Do you want to get coffee or something sometime?” You ask him, your words blurring together into a messy sentence as the words tumble too quickly out of your mouth. It takes him a minute to piece together what you asked and in that minute you regret your decision even more. Surely he’ll say no.

“I’d love to.” He giggles, his boxy smile so wide his eyes scrunch a little as his cheeks push against them. Your eyes widen in surprise as you’d been preparing yourself for what you thought to be an inevitable ‘no’ and that only makes Taehyung smile wider-if possible. “You’re so cute.” He coos, tapping a finger against the tip of your nose as you continue to stare at him dumbfounded. Maybe you should have a little more faith in yourself if someone like Taehyung said yes to you.

“Thanks.” You murmur, cursing yourself internally for being so shy. How has this man reduced you to a bashful mess with a single compliment? You’re sure if you looked in the mirror you probably wouldn’t even recognize yourself. Y/n without a witty remark? Unheard of. Maybe this is the change you need though, maybe this you is better?

“if you want to wait around for five minutes my shift ends and then we can go?” Taehung asks and you just nod, your brain trying to process the fact that you’ll be going on a date in five minutes with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen. Looking down at yourself you freeze realizing you’re about to go on a date in sweatpants and one of Jimin’s old hoodies from high school. You look like you just rolled out of bed.

Five minutes isn’t even enough time to get to your apartment though and you sigh, resigning yourself to looking frumpy. Grabbing whatever cat food is nearest- what kind of food Kimchi would like is the last thing on your mind- you busy yourself at the register, chatting with a guy named Soobin. He winks at you when Taehyung rounds the corner to get you, his apron gone and revealing his Celine t-shirt. “You ready to go?” He asks, coming up beside you. Nodding in response, he places a hand on the small of your back before gently pushing you forward and you fiddle with the rings on your fingers to distract yourself from the heat crawling up the back of your neck and across your cheeks.

You instantly recognize the cafe he takes you to and smile to yourself, already anticipating seeing a familiar tuft of icy blonde hair- another one of your hair dye experiences. Taehyung- ever the gentleman- opens the door for you and you give him a soft smile in thanks. When you look back to the counter Yoongi is giving you a quizzical look and you shake your head slightly as a signal not to ask. That doesn’t deter him from scanning you and Taehyung, his eyes lingering on the way Taehyung’s arm wraps around your waist. You don’t remember him doing that. “Yoongi!” Taehyung yells and you turn to him in surprise. He knows Yoongi? Yoongi has always kept a pretty tight circle so you can’t help but be baffled by this newly discovered friendship. You’ve never heard him mention someone named Taehyung before.

“Ahh hi Taehyung.” Yoongi smiles, this time shaking his head at you slightly. You guess it’s only fair since you told him not to ask as well no matter how much you itch to question him. You’ve always been nosey, it’s something you and Jimin bonded over. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” Yoongi continues, looking to you briefly to see if you register the bone he threw you. Ahh they must be old friends that lost touch.

“Yeah I haven’t seen you since winter break in Daegu. You always ghosted me when I asked to hang out.” Taehyung pouts.

“I told you I’ve been busy. I’ve had a lot going on, my roommate is always getting into trouble. Speaking of which, how is he?” Yoongi turns his full attention to you and you give him a pitiful smile as you can see the hurt in his eyes. It’s no secret Yoongi has always had a soft spot for Jimin and their fight must’ve been really hard on him too. You hope he had someone to lean on the way Jimin did you.

“He’s reached acceptance. I think he’s finally trying to actually get over her. He’s been staying with me this whole time. You can stop by later if you want?” You offer, completely unaware of the way Taehyung’s eyes flicker between you and Yoongi to try and discern your relationship. He’s never heard about you either. Min Yoongi sure has a lot of secrets.

“I’ll let him come to me. He might think I’m ambushing him or something if I come over.” Yoongi shrugs albeit sadly. Your heart aches at seeing him so dejected and you place your hand over his own.

“He wants to apologize, he did the first night. He’s just working up the courage.” It’s the only solace you can offer him at the moment but you hope it’s enough to make him feel even a little better. “I don’t think he’ll take much longer, he’s probably getting sick of me.” You laugh, grinning when you see Yoongi crack a tiny smile.

“Sounds good. Now head to the pick up counter, I punched in your drinks a while ago. It’s not like either of you get anything different anyways.”

“Thanks Yoon! I’ll buy you lamb skewers next time we hang out.” You tell him, leaving the register with Taehyung trailing you.

“So how do you two know each other?” Taehyung asks, sipping on his strawberry smoothie.

“We met when I made the mistake of taking philosophy at nine a.m. a couple semesters ago. We really bonded while suffering together and then he became roommates with my best friend and we formed an unbreakable trio.” You take a rather large sip of your caramel macchiato, needing a drink after speaking probably the longest sentence you ever have to Taehyung. Progress- sad progress because you’ve never had this problem before but progress nonetheless. “How do you know Yoongi?”

“We grew up together in Daegu. Next door neighbors and everything.” Taehyung smiles like he’s reminiscing in things you don’t know about but one day you hope to hear more if for nothing but to hear his voice- although some embarrassing childhood memories to blackmail Yoongi with would be nice.

“Yoongi’s emo phase must’ve been an experience.” You snort only to freeze when you realize you just made probably the most unattractive noise in existence. You’re pretty sure you hear Yoongi cackle at your embarrassment.

“He actually didn’t have one.” Taehyung whispers almost like it’s a secret and you can’t help the gasp that leads your lips.

“What?” You exclaim, placing a hand over your mouth. Your whole friendship has been a lie! “But he’s so angsty!”

“That’s because he bottles up his feelings.” Taehyung says and you remember another reason you and Yoongi got so close. You’re practically the same person when it comes to feelings and expressing them- in fact it’s one of the reasons you can read each other so well. “I just wish he’d reveal his soft side more often.”

“That’s why he’s my favorite tsundere.” You giggle, winking at Yoongi when you catch him glaring at you from behind the counter. You could tell he was listening in on you and Taehyung’s conversation- he was wiping the same spot on the pickup counter for two minutes- and you know he hates nothing more than being compared to a tsundere. Though you theorize it’s only because it’ll out him as a weeb. Not that his one piece set displayed in the living room of the apartment gives it away or anything. ‘I hate you’ he mouths when you look in his direction again and you only laugh, giving him a finger heart to placate him before turning back to your date.

Taehyung is just smiling at you, his gaze flicking to the window to try and hide the fact he was admiring you. It was nice to see that he was the one getting bashful for once as you watch roses cluster along his cheeks. He really is so cute. “You’re cute.” You tell him, happy at the way his eyes widen at your sudden boldness. It’s only brief however as he gives you a flirty smirk in return.

“Just cute?” He asks, leaning forward to look you dead in the eyes, enjoying the way you struggle to maintain eye contact.

“Yes.” You whisper with a final flicker of confidence, immediately regretting your poor attempt to tease him as he leans in further, his face a few inches from your own.

“Let’s change that, yeah?” Your breath hitches at him being so close, close enough that you find yourself looking at the small mole under his eye and following it down to the mole on his nose before finally landing on the one on his lower lip. Your eyes linger on his lips, which look much to kissable for you to turn your attention away from. They’re soft and pink, moistened by his tongue that slips out to brush across his bottom lip, dragging your attention back up to his eyes that flicker from your gaze to your own lips. You pinch your bottom one between your teeth as the tension brews between you two. Taehyung reaches a hand out to fall gently on your cheek, releasing your bottom lip from its hold with his thumb. Once it’s free he wastes no time to press his lips to your own and you sigh into him. You could get used to this.

Nothing can ruin your mood, not even a certain bambi, as you skip up the two flights of stairs to your apartment building. With slightly mussed hair and kiss swollen lips, you’re entirely too giddy for your own good. You’re in the midst of digging around in your bag for your keys when you feel something wet against your leg. Instantly you scream, jumping away from whatever just touched you and relaxing only when you notice it’s a little black Puggle. “Oh hello.” You giggle, bending down to pet the puppy. It wriggles in excitement, jumping out of your outstretched arms almost like a fish out of water. Finally managing to wrangle it into your lap you check for a collar only to find none. Shrugging, you take the puppy into your apartment, resolving to notify the office about the lost dog so they can alert the other residents and hopefully its owner. In the meanwhile though, you have a puppy to play with! An annoyed meow sounds from the couch and you cringe when Kimchi glares at you.

“Sorry Kim, this is only temporary.” You try and console her, attention diverted when the puppy barks at you. “Hi sweetheart.” You coo, rubbing her belly as she happily melts into you. “Your owner should really invest in a collar.” You sigh, hoping that whoever they are will realize they’re missing a pet soon. As cute as you think this little puppy is you’re not equipped to care for it.

You must play with the dog for twenty minutes before it knocks out, snoring lightly on your furry rug. Kimchi watches curiously from the couch and you can’t tell whether she wants to befriend or attack it. Your door frame rattles and you sigh, leaning your head against the couch cushion as your neighbor wakes up the sleeping puppy, “Lucy!” You hear someone yell, a slew of curses following as they run around the hall. Their footsteps are heavy enough that it startles the puppy, causing it to run to the door and bark incessantly.

“It’s okay sweetheart.” You try and soothe, pausing as the footsteps halt suddenly followed by a frantic pounding on your door. Kimchi- fully alarmed- runs into your bedroom for cover as you stare at your shaking front door, the puppy in your arms. After taking a deep breath you calm your nerves, pulling the door open only to get punched in the face. “What the hell?” You yell, almost dropping the dog as you raise a hand to your now bruised nose.

“I’m so sorry!” A voice, you now realize is Namjoon’s, says frantically. “I was just about to knock on the door again and I was already in motion. I wasn’t aiming for your face I swear!”

You close your eyes and inhale- for both a piece of sanity because this is the most Namjoon thing you’ve ever witnessed and also because your nose hurts so bad you could cry- and slowly open your eyes to look at the assailer. “Hi Joonie.” Is the only thing you can say. Your day only gets worse as an annoyingly familiar figure rounds the corner. How can such a beautiful day turn into a nightmare? If you didn’t know any better you’d think you were the oc for someone’s story.

“Why do you have my dog?” He yells in an odd mixture of confusion and irritation.

“This is your dog?” You ask, ignoring the way your nose is throbbing.

“If it wasn’t, would I refer to it as my dog?” Jungkook asks, his tone nothing short of condescending as he knocks against your forehead, knuckles barely brushing against the bridge of your nose but causing you to wince all the same. Jungkook pauses for a second, his hand hovering above your face as an expression you could almost discern as concern crosses his features. It’s gone in a moment, almost like a blip, before being replaced with smugness. “Did you run into a door or something? This is what you get for being a thief.” He snickers, moving to take the puppy out of your hand before you shield it away from him with your body.

“Namjoon punched me in the face. Also your dog ran away and came to me, I didn’t steal it. And I’m not a thief, I’ve told you a thousand times it was an accident!”

“He what?” Jungkook yells, spinning on his heels to face Namjoon in anger. His hands clench at his sides causing the veins running down his forearms to pop, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. He’s glaring at the taller boy, his body almost teeming with rage. Such a shame someone so pretty has such an awful personality.

“He ran away. You should try being a better owner so he doesn’t flee at first chance. Also have you ever heard of a collar? It’s a great way to let other people identify your dog.” You scold, scratching the dog’s head as you do so.

“That’s not-whatever. Besides she’s a girl; her name is Lucy. And I did get her a collar it’s just a little too big right now but she’s not even supposed to really go outside before she gets all her shots.” Jungkook says, this time reaching forward too quick for you to avoid, snatching Lucy out of your hands before you can even think to counter his attack.

“My baby!” You cry, strangely attached to the little creature even though you’ve barely spent half an hour with her.

“I’m right here.” Jungkook winks, cackling as you proceed to gag.

“Tell me, does your neck ever hurt from your head being shoved so far up your own ass?” He cackles again and you’re sure if you were a cartoon you’d have smoke coming out of your ears. You’ll probably have to go to the doctor after this with the way he’s raising your blood pressure. You’ve never met someone so infuriating.

“Does your ass ever hurt from the stick that’s up it?” Jungkook retorts and you scowl.

“At least my pet didn’t run away from me.”

“She didn’t! I wasn’t even home when Namjoon lost her.”

“You’re saying you lost her but all I’m hearing is she ran away.”

“Whatever thief. What do you know?” He scoffs and you scoff in return.

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, Bambi.”

“I’m just gonna go.” Namjoon says clearly uncomfortable with the tension surrounding you and Jungkook. You almost feel a little bad before you remember he literally punched you in the face. “I can’t believe you made Namjoon so uncomfortable he had to leave.”

“Me? You’re the one who started it.” Jungkook scoffs.

“I did not! You accused me of stealing your dog!”

“Because you’re a thief! How many times do I have to tell you!”

“Whatever Bambi, what do you know?” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Call me bambi one more time.” He growls and you smirk.

“But I think bambi really suits you. You have bambi eyes and everything.” You grin at the way he grits his teeth, taking a step forward to lessen the gap that stands between the two of you. He’s probably less than a foot away at this point and you notice he has a mole below his bottom lip.

“Shut up.” He says, his usually light voice taking on a deep and gravelly tone. Your mind buffers for a moment at the sound and you momentarily forget where you are. It’s like he hypnotized your or something.

“Make me.” You press, your breath hitching as you watch something flicker in his eyes too fast for you to catch. Lucy barking breaks the two of you out of your standoff and you both turn to watch as she proceeds to pee all over Jungkook’s arm. You can’t help but giggle as he grimaces in disgust. “Serves you right.” You sing, reaching over to give Lucy a scratch on the head.

“Whatever. At least I don’t do an ugly middle part every day.” He scoffs and you shrug.

“At least I don’t smell like dog piss.” With the final word secured you close the door, only to reopen it for a second. “Don’t forget to clean the carpet!”

When Jimin returns with a guilty smile and a box of taco bell you immediately grow suspicious, though you can already guess what he’s about to say. Jimin doesn’t have any hookups at taco bell so he even paid for once which means he must be moving out but doesn’t want to you to be sad. It’s a little too late for that as you immediately deflate, the loneliness you didn’t know you felt before Jimin moved in returning. “You and Yoongi made up?” You ask though it’s really just confirmation.

“Yeah we did. I told him I’d come back later today.” Jimin’s voice drips in misplaced guilt, for he really has no reason to feel bad for moving back home. You knew this would only be temporary.

“I’m so happy for you!” You say, making sure to raise your voice to convey a happier tone. You really are glad they worked it out but you’ll miss him. Looking around your apartment the plants seem a little less homey than normal. Maybe you should invest in a pet for real. Lucy from next door pops into your head and you smile. “I made a new friend next door so I won’t be lonely without you.”

Jimin gasps over-dramatically, placing a hand over his heart like you just stabbed him. “You’ve replaced me with Jeon Jungkook??” He asks and your eyes widen at the insinuation. Like you’d replace Jimin with anyone, especially Jeon Jungkook.

“Eww gross, like I’d even think of befriending him.’ You scoff.

“You’re like a little kid thinking their crush has cooties.” Jimin snickers and you glare at him.

“He’ll infect me with his stupidity! He’s a clown Jimin, he literally got peed on by his own dog earlier!” You exclaim and Jimin only laughs.

He hums for a minute before turning to you with a sly smirk. “You talk about him a lot you know? Got love on the brain?” Jimin teases, cackling at his own joke only to choke when you angrily shove a soft taco into his mouth. You grin at him wickedly when he turns to you, ignoring the way he returns his own glare.

“More like hate on the brain.” You say, taking a bite of your own taco before turning on the tv.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate you know? Also if I go into the bathroom and find a grease stain on my shirt I’m going to kill you.” Jimin goes so far as to flick your head with his warning, probably a small punishment for stuffing his face. In your defense it was the only way to get him to stop talking nonsense.

“You can’t even strangle me with those baby hands.” You quip, giggling when Jimin flips you off.

“I can’t believe I’ve lived with you for this long without going insane.” He huffs, feeding Kimchi-who has been beckoned by the smell of food- a piece of cheese. She grinds her teeth happily after swallowing it whole, sticking her head into the wrapper to try and find more morsels.

“That’s because you loveee me.” You sing, sending Jimin a heart and a flying kiss. As much as he detests it, he’s a sucker for large displays of affection. His cheeks turn a soft cherry pink as he shoves your shoulder a little too hard, making you topple over from your spot on the floor. The taco comes flying out of your hand, the remnants scattering as Jimin struggles to capture Kimchi before she can feast on the fallen taco. You sigh at the inevitable stain you’ll have to clean from all the grease but turning to the chaos that’s behind you- Kimchi is half wrapped around Jimin’s neck like a boa constrictor as he holds her to him to prevent her escape- you can’t help but miss it already.

Returning from your trip to Jimin and Yoongi’s apartment-somehow he collected more stuff than he brought with him in his short stay at your apartment and needed help carrying everything back- you run into Taehyung. “Tae?” You ask and he gives you the same expression.

“Y/n? You live here?” He asks equally as surprised and confused to see you. It’s a similar feeling to when you see a teacher out in public.

“Yeah. Do you?”

“No I was just visiting some friends of mine.” He says, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels as the two of you stare at each other. “Hey did you know your nose is turning purple?”

“Huh?” You ask until you piece together that you must be beginning to bruise. Thank you Kim Namjoon. “Oh yeah I just got hit in the face.” You laugh, consciously covering your nose with your hand.

“You should ice it. Have you done that already?” Taehyung steps forward, placing a hand on your wrist to gently pry your hand away from the offending object (ie. your nose).

“No.” You sigh because really that should’ve been the first thing you did but instead you wasted time arguing with Jeon Jungkook. Your nose is probably going to be super swollen and purple by tomorrow.

“Let’s get some ice for it, yeah? You should really take better care of yourself.” He laughs, taking your hand and leading you towards the elevators. You don’t know if a bruised nose needs two people’s attention but it’ll be nice to come home to something other than silence. “What floor?”

“Two, but we can just take the stairs.” You tell him, changing his direction to the stairwell on the opposite side of the building. He follows you quietly to your apartment, looking around the walls like he’s trying to find something specific.

“I’ve never come this way before. My friends always take the elevator.” He says, pausing beside you when you reach your door.

“Two flights of stairs isn’t too bad for me. Plus elevators make me nervous, there’s something about plummeting to your death in a tiny box that freaks me out.” You shrug, letting him inside before closing the door behind you.

“It’s like a whole garden in here!” Taehyung exclaims, spinning in a circle to take in the various potted and hanging plants that lie around your living room. You twist your rings as you watch him take it all in, worried he might find your plant obsession excessive or weird. You just really like the look of it and it’s nice to take care of something.

“Yeah, I might’ve got a little too carried away at the plant nursery.” You laugh, watching as Taehyung brushes his fingers along random leaves.

“I tried to take care of a plant once and I couldn’t even get it to sprout.” When he turns to you his eyes are filled with awe and you ease up a little bit.

“It takes a lot of work but it’s pretty calming for me. It’s nice to have something that relies on you to take care of it.”

“I get the feeling. That’s why I have Tannie. You wanna see him?” Taehyung asks excitedly, already fishing his phone out of his pocket. Nodding, you take the phone from him and observe the tiny dog practicing tricks in the video. It’s a mainly black Pomeranian, brown tufts of fur on its belly and legs with two angry brown eye brows that make you laugh.

“He takes after you with the strong brows.” You say making Taehyung laugh.

“You know what they say, dogs always look like their owners.” Your mind drifts to the black Puggle next door and it’s fake wire-framed glasses wearing owner. You guess they both have a rather cute boopable nose. “Now about your nose…” Taehyung says, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Right!” Taking ice out of the freezer you place it into a tiny ziplock while Taehyung grabs the kitchen towel hanging off the oven handle to wrap it with.

“So you need to do twenty minutes on and twenty off. I could keep you company if you want?” You nod your head quickly at his offer, gesturing for him to make himself comfortable.

“Do you want anything to drink or eat? I have popcorn and other snacks.”

“How about we eat popcorn and watch a movie?” He suggests.

“Great idea.” You’re about to grab the box of popcorn from one of the top shelves of the pantry when Taehyung’s hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Let me do it. Don’t want you to hurt yourself any further.” He teases, ushering you out of your own kitchen. Walking back to the couch you watch him as he fumbles around your kitchen to find the bowls, giggling as he opens the same cupboard three times. You’re about to tell him its location when he finally finds it, cheering as if he’s won some kind of prize. With the popcorn made and your fridge raided for drinks he rejoins you at the couch while you pull up netflix.

“What do you want to watch?”

“How about a nature documentary?” He suggests and you just smile and nod despite the fact that you’re going to be fighting the urge to fall asleep for the next two hours. Oh what you’ll do for a pretty boy.

After spending one day alone in your apartment after classes you decide you no longer enjoy having nothing to come home to. You’re not quite sure how you used to do this just fine because now the silence is almost unbearable. You could go over to Jimin and Yoongi’s apartment but all your stuff is here and you can’t exactly just invite yourself over. Well judging by how many times Jimin has done that to you you probably could but it just feels weird. You also don’t think you can sit through another nature documentary with Taehyung despite how much you like him. You could barely stay awake last time, the twenty minute alarms the only thing keeping you from drifting off. Plus you had to watch not only animals kill and eat each other- while a necessary part of the circle of life, you don’t particularly enjoy watching life leave something. And most disturbingly, there was a whole segment on spiders and you hate spiders. Which leaves you with only one option: Lucy.

On your way home from your last lecture you go to the nearest pet store, picking out a little pink collar with cherries decorating it and a pink leash. Maybe you’ve gone a little overboard with the pink aesthetic- you may have been eyeing a pink onesie because you’ve always wanted an animal that lets you dress it- but the idea of e-boy Jungkook walking around his pink accessorized puppy makes you laugh. You bet the collar he bought her has spikes or skulls. With the presents in hand, you stop at Jungkook’s door knocking in a small tune.

The door opens and instead of Jungkook you’re met with Seokjin. “Oh hi, is Jungkook home?” You ask hesitantly. “I uhh brought stuff for Lucy.” You bring the bag in front of you to show him like it’ll validate why you’re here. You can’t have people thinking you came just for him.

“He just went out to meet the postmate guy but he’ll be back in a few minutes if you want to wait for him inside?” Seokjin steps aside to let you enter, ushering you onto the couch before getting you water.

“I heard Jimin and Yoongi finally made up.” Seokjin comments and you nod somewhat sadly.

“Yeah he moved out yesterday.”

“Being alone again must be a little lonely huh? Is that why you’re here? Not that I don’t mind you stopping by but it’s not like we’re very close or anything.”

“I missed Lucy.” You tell him. “But yeah it has been a little lonely. If you don’t mind me asking how do you know Yoongi?”

“We used to TA a biology class together. And I met Jimin when I was helping them move in but I don’t see him very often. He really only asks me to bring him food when he’s too lazy to cook.” Seokjin says.

“Yeah he’ll do about anything for free food.” You laugh and Seokjin smiles.

“It’s nice to know that you’re actually pretty sweet. I was worried you were just a hothead after listening to Jungkook whine about you incessantly.” Seokjin laughs and you look at him curiously.

“Jungkook talks about me?”

“All the time. Anyways, I’m always looking for new friends so I can learn more secrets so feel free to stop by whenever. I’m sure Kookie wouldn’t mind seeing you around more often.” He winks and you’re entirely too confused to fake a gag.

“But he hates me?”

“That’s his charm. He has that whole ‘I want to fight you but also kiss you’ vibe. Or so I’ve heard anyways. I just get embarrassing child vibes from him personally but I’ve also seen him in a Pikachu onesie singing the pokemon theme song too many times at 2 a.m. to see him as any less.” Before you have time to even process what Seokjin has just told you the door opens and you immediately stand up startled, the bag of goodies for Lucy falling off your lap and spilling onto the floor.

Jungkook pauses in the door way, his eyes the widest you’ve seen so far. The Wendy’s bag crunches as he clutches it tighter and the two of you stare at each other like you’re waiting for the other to make the first move. “I brought stuff for Lucy. To make sure she’s getting properly cared for.” You hurry feeling like you need an excuse to come over. Seokjin laughs under his breath from beside you.

“First a thief then a trespasser. Am I going to have to report you?” Jungkook asks and you scowl, crossing your arms across your chest. Just who does he think he is?

“Seokjin let me in.” You say stepping aside to reveal Jin who was watching the whole encounter unfold with a grin. His eyes glint with mischief when you turn to him and suddenly you’re afraid of his power. How many secrets does he know? Will he figure out yours?

“I thought we agreed not to invite random people in?” Jungkook sighs, almost like he’s scolding Seokjin. You frown. You’re supposed to be enemies, does that not mean anything to him?

“She’s not random. She’s my new best friend!” Seokjin yells directly into your ear making you wince before throwing an arm around your shoulder. You’re too busy looking at Seokjin confusedly to notice the way someone else’s eyes linger a little too long on the arm wrapped around you.

“Whatever. Just don’t talk to me.” Jungkook grumbles stalking towards his room when you speak up.

“But you’re the one talking to me?” You ask making him stop in his tracks and turn around to face you again. That’s when you notice the frosty in his hand that’s half melted and now running down the side of the cup and down his hand. “Did you postmate a frosty?” You ask, genuinely concerned with why he chose that when it’d be undoubtably half melted in the forty minutes it takes delivery.

“Maybe.” He says skeptically and you give him your best ‘are you stupid?’ expression because you have eyes and it’s literally in his hand.

“Did you not realize it would be melted by the time you got it?” You tease, a smirk pulling at your lips when he falters in coming up with a witty remark.

“Shut up.” He groans, turning back around and opening his bedroom door. A flash of black rushes past him and straight towards you and you can only cheer in glee when Jungkook sighs in exasperation. “Betrayed by my own dog.” He whines to himself as he leans against the door frame to watch you play with Lucy.

“Hi baby!” You coo, sitting down on the floor to hold her as she gives you as many kisses as possible. Giggling you fall back so you’re lying down, holding her up above you so it looks like she’s flying. Her little paws move rapidly as she attempts to get back to you, her tongue hanging out of her mouth as she whines. “Sorry, sorry.” You chuckle, placing her back down on your stomach. Jumping off you, the bag catches her attention and she busy’s herself by climbing inside of it. Her head pops up with the bag still attached and you can’t help but laugh as she raises up on her hind legs and uses her paws to try and take it off herself. Snapping a quick picture, your airdrop it to Jungkook and Seokjin before taking it off her head.

“You wanna see the stuff I got you?” You ask, not sure what type of answer you were anticipating in response. You take her snort as a yes and show her the collar first. “You’re gonna look so cute in this. Plus I made sure it’s the right size.” You look pointedly at Jungkook who has moved from his position by the door to the kitchen counter where he snacks on his fries and commits the crime that is dipping them in his frosty. He looks away when he catches your gaze, face flushed a soft pink as he returns his attention to his phone. Bummed by his lack of response you focus on putting the tiny collar around her neck. The little cherry charm jingles as she shakes her head for a moment to adjust before she licks your hand in what you assume to be thanks.

“Jin look! Isn’t she so cute?” You hold her up to your face while showing off the new collar to Jin who claps in delight.

“I live for the pink aesthetic. She’s gonna be a doggy icon.” He cheers making you laugh.

“Only the best for my little Lucy. What do you think bambi?” You ask, turning to Jungkook who makes an OJO face, his phone pointed in your direction. You wonder what he was doing but brush it off to just him being weird. He’s probably looking for more pokemon onesies or something.

“Not too bad thief, not bad at all.”

When you return home to your apartment after visiting your neighbors turned new friends- excluding Jungkook who is teetering on the upgrade to frenemy because he actually wasn’t entirely awful- you feel light and airy. You’re almost as giddy as you were the day you came back from your date with Taehyung. Speaking of Taehyung you should probably text him or something, you haven’t really texted today. Though you’re feeling too lazy to text out an entirely conversations worth of words so you settle for calling him instead.

“Hey Y/n.” He says, surprising you for picking up on the first ring.

“Hey Tae. How was your day?”

“It was really good! I spent the whole day taking pictures of plants and stuff for my assignment. Your apartment really inspired me to capture the less sentient lives that intersect our own.” He says, voice so cheery you can practically see the smile you know he dawns.

“That’s really cool, you’ll have to send them my way after you’re done with them.” You say, glad that you could be of some help. He did ask you to be his muse after all.

“How’s your nose?” He asks and you pause when you realize you completely forgot about the bruise on your nose. In fact when you got ready this morning you didn’t even notice. Standing up from the couch you look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror surprised to see it’s only a small purple mark.

“There’s only a small bruise. I actually forgot I had it so I guess it’’s pretty good.” You laugh, opting to sit on the bathroom counter instead.

“That’s good, I was worried about it. Hey I was going to visit my friend’s dance recital tomorrow if you want to come? He’s been telling me it’s really good.”

“Sure thing. What time should I be ready by?” You ask mind already alternating between different possible outfits. You’ll need to look extra good while standing next to Taehyung while also looking casual enough that it’s not too much for a campus recital. You haven’t been to one since your ex’s last showcase a year ago.

“How about seven? You can help me look for a nice bouquet to give him afterwards. Since you’re a plant expert and everything.”

“I don’t know if I’d call myself an expert but sure. I’ll meet you outside my apartment?” You start to grow nervous as you realize you’ll need to come up with conversation starters so the conversation doesn’t lull. You wish you were better at talking to him.

“See you then. Goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight Tae.” Hanging up, you lean your head against the mirror and close your eyes, focusing on trying to lower your heart rate. You hope the more you spend time with Taehyung the easier it gets.

You’re panicking. Mostly because it’s 6:30 pm and you’re still not dressed. You hate your entire closet, nothing is good enough to wear. Your clothes are strewn across your bedroom and you’re pretty sure you could cry. You’ve at least done your hair and makeup when you were still happy with your previous outfit but after looking at it one too many times you picked it apart. A knock on your door startles you and you pray to God that it’s not Taehyung who’s arrived early. You sigh in relief at the sight of Jungkook, your nerves easing as you focus on the bright pink leash he’s holding and the squirming puppy at your feet.

“Hey thief we’re going to get something to eat on a walk and after you nearly burned down the kitchen this morning I thought I’d invite you. I don’t feel like smelling burnt eggs through the vent for the rest of the day.” He says nonchalantly like he can’t see your frazzled state.

“Sorry bambi but I can’t. I have a date to get ready for and I can’t figure out what to wear.” You sigh, leaning down to give Lucy a few scratches after she barks at you for attention.

“A date?” Jungkook asks, his voice cracking a little in surprise. He clears his throat as you snicker.

“Yeah. Hey do you think he’d hate me if I just showed up in this oversized tee like a VSCO girl because I think If I look at my closet one more time I’ll actually cry.” You half joke half genuinely ask because you’re so frustrated.

“I mean nothing you wear can make you less ugly.” He offers and you glare at him.

“Thanks. That’s really just what I needed. I don’t know why I even bothered to ask.” You deadpan, moving to close the door on him when he shoves his foot between it and the frame to stop it.

“I mean- you know that mini skirt you have? Tuck your shirt into that and wear some docs or something and you’ll look uhh reasonable. I uhh saw a girl wearing something similar earlier and it was cute.” He says, his words slurring a little in his panic to redeem himself and you crack the door open a little to look at him.

“Thanks bambi, I’ll try it. I dig the pink leash by the way, really makes you look badass.” You giggle, closing the door to drown out his shout of protest.

Turns out bambi does have somewhat of a fashion sense because after trying on his suggested outfit you don’t hate it which is enough for you at this point. Checking the time you realize you only have a few minutes left to make any finishing touches before you need to meet Taehyung downstairs. Checking your eyeliner wings one last time and spraying on perfume you hurry down the stairs and outside, tapping your foot anxiously as you wait for Taehyung. You hope you look okay.

“You look great.” Taehyung’s deep voice says from behind you, his arms encircling your waist as you turn around to face him. You look away bashfully once again reminded what a shy, nervous mess he turns you into.

“You do too.” You’re not just saying that to be polite, Taehyung truly does look good. Though when does he not? There’s something so effortlessly beautiful about him that you’re envious of. You wish someone would see you like that.

“All set to go?” Taehyung asks before linking your arms when you say yes. You wind up back at the familiar market where you and Jungkook first met. You laugh a little to yourself when you notice the row of aloe vera plants lined up on the top shelf. To your right is the flower section for those last minute bouquets and you turn your focus to them and Taehyung instead.

“I like this one.” You pick up a bouquet of sunflowers and show them to him. The flowers are a little on the smaller side since it’s just the beginning of their season but they’re still happy and bright. “I think it just looks really joyful. Plus everyone buys roses.”

Taehyung laughs at that, putting down the bouquet of roses he had in his hand. You squeeze your eyes closed when you realize you’ve accidentally made fun of his flower choice.

“He’ll like it. He’s always calling himself the sun anyways.” Taehyung shrugs, heading to the register with you tailing behind. You’ve only known one person who called themselves the sun but surely it’s not him. There’s seven billion people in the world, surely it can’t be that small.

Disregarding the hunch of who the flowers you picked out are for, you trot behind Taehyung and lace your hand with his own. He gives you a bright smile in return and a little squeeze, probably excited that he’s not the one initiating PDA for once.

After paying he leads the way towards the campus event center which isn’t much farther of a walk. The closer you get the more you remember and it’s not that you and your ex didn’t end on a good note it’s more so just that you didn’t anticipate seeing him, much less going to his recital and picking out flowers for him. But you’re probably just jumping to conclusions.

Getting settled into your seats, front and center, you relax a little. Taehyung’s hand is still in your own and to try and settle your nerves you focus on him- which you probably should be doing anyways since this is a date but your mind has never been good at sticking to one topic. “So how’d you get such great seats?” You ask before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for bringing me by the way.”

“Of course. Oh, my friend is captain of the dance team and is a senior so he gets the best spots in the house. I only have to buy him food for the rest of the week as payment. I didn’t feel like waiting in line and getting a crappy spot.”

“Understandable. But if you’re buying food anyways feel free to send some my way.” You wink and Taehyung sighs.

“Once again I’m getting used for free stuff.” He cries dramatically and you giggle. “But since you’re my muse I guess it’s okay.” He says suddenly serious, taking your surprise to press a kiss to your lips.

“Taehyung!” You scold, lightly slapping his chest. "You can’t just catch me off guard like that.”

“Sure I can. You’re cute when you get embarrassed.” That only causes your embarrassment to heighten and he grins, placing another kiss against your lips.

“You suck.” You pout despite not really meaning it.

The lights dim and you both quiet down, turning away from each other to look up at the stage. It’s a lyrical piece first to a song you’ve never heard before but it’s pretty. As the lone harp melody plays a figure emerges from the darkness into the center spotlight only to be joined by several other people as the beat hits. Their movements are fluid like water, their shadows casted elegantly against the back wall of the stage. When the performance ends you can’t help but applaud- though you really are supposed to wait until the end to avoid disrupting performances. “That was so cool!” You whisper to Taehyung who smiles brightly at you.

“My friend choreographed it!” He whispers back, pride for his friend’s achievement seeping in his words. It’s cute. You both fall silent again as the other pieces are performed only resuming conversation once the show is in intermission.

“Your friend is really talented.” You tell Taehyung, unable to get the performance out of your head. It’s a shame it was the very first one as it’s outshined the rest for you.

“You’ll have to tell him when we see him later. I heard they’re selling snacks out front, do you want any?” He asks.

“I can get them if you want? Since you got the tickets and everything.”

“Sure, I’l just wait for you here. If they have any sweets can you get me some?” He asks.

“Sure thing. Be right back.” You smile, about to get up when he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Hurry back.” He winks and if it were anyone else you’d roll your eyes.

You huff in annoyance at the rather long line, texting Taehyung that it might be awhile before opening up a piano game on your phone. “I didn’t know you were coming.” Yoongi’s voice startles you and you jump back.

“Why do you not make noise when you move!” You ask. “This really supports the theory that you’re a vampire.”

“If you compare me to Edward Cullen one more time I will kill you.” You quiet down at that, the image of Yoongi’s Katana hanging above his bed- another symbol of his weebiness- surfaces in your mind. You’d rather not get close and personal with it.

“Noted. Anyways what’re you doing here?”

“I get extra credit on one of my music assignments if I come. I don’t really see the point but hey that just means I can put in less effort later since I have a safeguard for my grade.”

“It’s extra credit Yoongi not a free pass.” You snort, sighing when the line still hasn’t moved.

“Why’re you here?”

“I’m on a date.” You tell him before realizing your mistake. “Don’t tell Jimin, it’s not that serious yet and I-“

“Too late.” Yoongi says, pointing to Jimin coming your way. “Though Taehyung is not who I expected it to be with.”

“How did you know it’s Taehyung?” You ask.

“Know what’s Taehyung?” Jimin asks and you give Yoongi a pleading look.

“Her date.” Yoongi says and you flip him off.

“You’re on a date and you didn’t tell me?” Jimin asks and when you turn to look at him you can’t tell whether he’s more annoyed or hurt. Either way you feel awful but Jimin has a tendency to get too attached to your boyfriends and when you and Hoseok broke up he was crushed.

“We’ve only hung out a couple of times, it’s not that serious.” You try and console him but that only makes him even more upset. His nostrils flare and everything!

“A couple times! What happened to no secrets?” Jimin scolds and you feel even worse.

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to get too attached if it doesn’t work out.” Like last time doesn’t need to be said for him to understand where you’re coming from and he sighs before running his hand through his hair.

“Last time was on me but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know every aspect of your life.”

“You know I can see why you and Jin get along so well. Do you share secrets?” You ask Jimin and when he falls silent Yoongi decides to re-enter the conversation.

“Wait do you?” Yoongi asks. “If you told anyone about my One Piece set I’m going to kill you.”

“Jimin I’d be careful, he threatened me with the Katana five minutes ago.” You warn and Jimin visibly pales.

“I’ve only been talking to him about our ship. We just want our favorite emotionally stunted tsunderes to get together.” Jimin says causing you and Yoongi to turn to each other.

“It’s about you.” You both say at the same time only to look offended at each other’s assumption. You’re both so offended that you don’t even realize you’ve made it to the front of the line until the volunteer interrupts your bickering.

“What can I get you?” Scanning the table you see peanut butter m&m’s- only the best kind.

“Uhh one bag of regular m&m’s and one peanut butter please.” You say because you’ve never asked if Taehyung has a peanut allergy. That’s probably an important thing to know.

“One pack of oreos.” Yoongi says behind you followed by Jimin yelling for sour patch kids.

“That’ll be $10.50” She tells you and sighing- seeing as you’ve been roped into paying for those leaches you call best friends- you hand over the cash.

“You’re welcome.” You sneer while they smile sweetly at you.

“You’re the best Y/n! Oh and don’t think you’ve gotten out of me meeting Taehyung. Bring him to the apartment Friday night for game night!”

“Do I have to?”

“You bring him to us or we come to you, your choice.” Jimin shrugs.

“Fine.” You sigh once again bested by the tiny man with the tiny hands.

When you get back to Taehyung intermission is practically over meaning you only have enough time to get settled in and give him his snack before the lights once again dim and the show starts. You almost forget about the fact that your ex is probably who you got flowers for until he appears in the final set as the lead of a hip hop dance. His eyes widen for a split second when he sees you in his search for Taehyung but he hides it like the professional he is and carries on with his best performance yet. Hoseok is just one of those people meant to dance. You loved his passion while you were dating and admire it still even after not really talking to him for a year.

Taehyung didn’t notice the surprise on Hoseok’s face- probably because he wasn’t looking for it- and happily drags you backstage to find him. You’re a little surprised you can just walk back here with no one to stop you but you guess they’re all working on things to fix for tomorrow’s show and are too busy to worry about the two of you.

You find Hoseok in the middle of his dance team crowded around him, his face all smiles as he redoes his favorite move for them. You can’t help but smile fondly at the scene, it reminds you so much of when you and Hoseok first met. It was your first and only hip hop class and he was the instructor. You thought he took extra interest in helping you because you were so terrible and he wanted you to exceed which was true but he also thought you were the cutest mess he’d ever seen. “Hobi!” Taehyung yells, gathering his older friend’s attention as Hoseok leaves the group of dancers to greet you.

“Hey Tae.” He smiles, giving him that half-hug half-slap on the back that guys do.

“We got you flowers! Y/n picked them out.” Taehyung smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back to push you more into the conversation. You’d been standing slightly behind Taehyung not sure what to say to Hoseok, that is if he even wanted to talk to you.

“Ahh hey Y/n. You still know me so well huh?” He laughs, bringing the bouquet to his head. “Be honest, do I still look like them?” He asks and you roll your eyes with a smile.

“Nah you look more like the one on the bottom that’s wilted and dying. I can’t believe you’re so old now.” You tease easily falling into your old rhythm. Hoseok was always bubbly and playful, an easiness surrounded him that always made you comfortable, even now it seems.

“Hey it’s only been a year since we last saw each other, I’m only a year older!” He whines.

“You guys knew each other?” Taehyung asks and you pause. How do you explain to your date that his friend is your ex without it being awkward?

“Yeah we’re old friends.” Hoseok says, seeming to read your uneasiness and giving you an easy out. You give him a grateful smile.

“Yeah we just lost touch, though it’s good to see you again. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” You mean it. Hoseok was your first love, he was everything you could’ve asked for but eventually you two fell out of love and ended it mutually before you began to hate each other. You’ll always have a soft spot for him and it makes you happy to see he’s doing so well.

“Yeah me too. I should’ve reached out sooner.” Hoseok tells you and you just shrug.

“Maybe it was best we found each other again now. Though I wouldn’t mind being friends again.”

“I’d like that. I missed my favorite tsundere.” Hoseok giggles and you groan.

“Everyone keeps calling me that today.” You whine.

“Tsundere? She’s much too shy and sweet for that don’t you think?” Taehyung asks completely confused about this whole interaction. You guess it makes sense because with Hoseok you were kinda like how you are with Jungkook. You’ve never been the bashful type until now.

“Shy?” Hoseok asks and Taehyung nods. You nod in agreement and Hoseok hums looking between you both for a few moments. “What’d you think of the performance?”

“The first one was great. I didn’t know you choreographed anything besides hip hop.” You tell him, grateful for the switch of topics. Hoseok is really saving you tonight.

“Yeah I thought I’d try new genres and become a more well-rounded dancer.”Someone yells Hoseok’s name from across the room and you all turn to see a short girl wave brightly at him, a bouquet nearly as big as her in her arms. “I uhh gotta go but thanks for coming by.” Hoseok says with a slight blush on his cheeks before scurrying over to her. You can’t help but smile after him. You hope this one works out for him.

“You ready to go?” Taehyung asks lacing his fingers in your own.

“Yeah, I’m starving. Want to pick up something on the way back?”

Taco bell in hand and a kiss goodbye you make your way back up to your apartment with a smile on your face. Today went much better than expected. Opening the door connected to your hallway you’re surprised to come face to face with Jungkook. So surprised that you take a step back and trip, beginning to fall backwards down the stairwell before strong arms wrap around your middle and bring you upright. His arm moves so one hand cradles your head and you both just stand there in shock as you process what just happened. You almost fell down the stairs and Jungkook caught you. You almost fell down the stairs!

“Don’t scare me like that!” You yell, pulling away to slap his rather firm chest.

“How was I supposed to know you were on the other side!” He exclaims,

“I almost died!”

“You probably just would’ve gotten concussed but…hey I caught you! Where’s my thank you?”

“You want me to thank you when you almost killed me??” You ask and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“You’re so dramatic. Also you uhh threw your taco bell and I’m pretty sure that’s a rat eating it.”

“What?” You scream, jumping into his arms-not like you needed to though since they’re still wrapped tightly around you- hiding your face in his neck and trying not to picture that rat. You’re a bit of a hypochondriac so just the idea of what diseases the rat could be carrying is freaking you out. Jungkook only chuckles at you before reopening the door leading towards the hallway and carrying you towards your front door where you effectively release him. “You owe me dinner.”

“Do I?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You made me drop my taco bell and I haven’t had dinner yet.” You pout.

“Do I always have to take care of you?” Jungkook sighs before unlocking his own front door and pulling you inside.

“What do you mean take care of me? I’m just a random person remember?” You quip but Jungkook ignores you as he scours throw his fridge. “Bambi stop ignoring me.” You whine which finally gets his attention.

“Sit thief.”

“If thief is your attempt at an affectionate pet name I hope you know I hate it.” You tell him, moving to sit at the barstool anyways.

“All the more reason to use it. Now thief, welcome to Jungkook’s ramen shop where we only serve the finest cup ramen. What flavor do you want?”

“If this is a restaurant shouldn’t you be wearing one of those big white hats or something? Also chicken please.”

“Boring choice but okay. Also I’m not wearing one of Jin’s stupid hats.” Jungkook says, turning on the kettle before moving to face you.

“So you’re telling me he has one? Here… In this apartment?” You ask, eyes glinting with mischief. Jeon Jungkook will be wearing one of those stupid hats even if it’s the last thing you do.

“I feel like if I say yes I’m going to regret it.” He tells you earnestly but you pay him no mind as you scour the kitchen looking for said hat. It’s not in the cupboards or pantry and you’re beginning to lose interest in finding it until you come across the linen closet in the hallway. You wouldn’t think it’s in there but the way Jungkook stiffens has your spidey senses tingling. With a flourish you open in the door exclaiming ‘aha!’ as you retrieve the item of your dreams along with an apron that says ‘kiss the cook’.

“Since you’re preparing my food I need you to wear a hat. I don’t want to find a hair that’s not mine in my ramen.”

“I’m not wearing that.”

“Fine.” You say with a huff, placing the hat on the counter in front of you. “At least wear the apron?” You bat your lashes at him and he concedes, putting on the stupid thing with the frilly edges. Step one: complete.

When Jungkook is busy pouring the boiling water in the cups and trying not to burn himself you sneak up behind him, the hat clutched between your fingers as your knees bend in preparation to jump on his back. While not the most conventional method he’s annoyingly kinda tall and if you can get above him you have a better chance of securing the hat onto his head and getting him to keep it there. As soon as the kettle is placed down onto the counter you attack, yelling out a war cry as you launch yourself onto him and almost falling off in laughter at the girlish scream that makes it past his throat. Lucy is barking from what you assume to be his room and the apartment is a madhouse as Jungkook teeters side to side with your legs wrapped around your face and your fingers trying to center the hat on his squirming head.

“Stop moving!” You yell, accidentally bonking him square on the head with your fist.

“Ow! Stop fucking hitting me!” He yells back, once again squirming beneath you.

“I wouldn’t have to if you just stayed still! We could’ve avoided this if you had worn it in the first place.” You’re both too busy arguing to hear the footsteps of one of the other inhabitants of the apartment emerge from their bedroom but when you both spin around you’re surprised by Seokjin causally leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face.

“Say cheese.” He smiles, blinding you with the flash before you can hide behind Jungkook’s head. “Jimin will love this.” He snickers and like Jungkook’s hair is a joystick for him to move you pull it forward to urge him to walk towards Seokjin.

“Don’t you dare send that! He has enough blackmail material on me already!” You yell, your grip on Jungkook slipping as you attempt to stomp the ground only to realize mid-movement that you’re not actually on the ground. Thankfully Jungkook has faster reflexes then you and catches you before you can fully fly off his body, slamming your upper half into his back while his other hand slides higher up your thigh to secure you now around his hips. It takes you a moment to register that your leg is so warm where his hand is because there’s no fabric barrier and it takes another moment to realize your skirt has probably slid up an embarrassing amount. “Okay put me down, put me down.” You say, slapping Jungkook’s arm to force him into urgency.

“Alright, alright.” He says before ungracefully dropping you onto your ass.

“I hate you.” You tell him before straightening out your skirt.

“What were you two even doing?” Seokjin asks and you sigh.

“He won’t wear the stupid hat.” You grumble and Seokjin sighs.

“Kookie wear the hat.”

“Yeah bambi wear the hat.” When Jungkook is still adamant he won’t be wearing the hat you look up into their ceiling light dramatically before pouting.

“Look Kook you made her sad.” Jin says, gesturing to you still staring into the light.

“What’re you doing? You’re gonna make yourself go blind, stop.” Jungkook says but you hold up a hand to silence him.

“Hang on I’m trying to make myself cry.” You tell him and Jungkook only chuckles.

“You’re ridiculous. If I wear the hat will you stop?” Immediately you look over to him with watery eyes, blinking rapidly to try and get the annoying circles out of your vision.

“Yes.” You grin, clapping as he adjusts it to sit lopsided on his head. That’s good enough for you as you jump up in glee. You’re too blind- really those spots just won’t fade away- to notice the almost fond smile Jungkook sends you.

“You might as well take a picture. This is the only time you’re gonna see me like this.” Jungkook tells you and you grab your phone off the counter and point the camera at you.

“Say I love you” You tease.

“I hate you” Jungkook says and you giggle. All is right once again in the universe.

Friday finally comes along and you have a slight problem. You’ve been so busy with Jungkook and Lucy- you have to make sure she’s getting proper care and long walks- that you forgot you were supposed to invite Taehyung over to Jimin and Yoongi’s for game night. And now you’re frantically blowing his phone up at four p.m. hoping that he didn’t make plans already. Stupid Jungkook. Like the angels above have taken pity on you, Taehyung is thankfully free and fully okay with you dragging him to Jimin and Yoongi’s place. Per tradition, they provide the place and the drinks and you provide the snacks. Though you’ve been craving fried chicken lately so you’re someone tempted to bring over a whole meal instead. You’re still deep in contemplation when Taehyung arrives at your door, a bag of chips in his hand because he didn’t want to arrive empty handed. How thoughtful.

“Do you think I should bring fried chicken?” You ask Taehyung, grabbing a few things before you leave for Jimin’s.

“If you want to, I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“Friend chicken it is. Bambi was telling me about this place yesterday and apparently it’s really good.” You ramble, slipping on your shoes by the door.

“Bambi?” Taehyung asks, following you once you’ve locked up.

“Yeah, a friend of mine.” You tell him, eyeing the old taco bell stain in the stairwell. You hope the rats enjoyed your five dollars worth of tacos.

“Is that their favorite movie?” Taehyung asks and you wonder why he’s so curious. Though you guess that’s not the most common nickname and maybe he’s just trying to get to know the people you hang out with.

“No, they just have big doe eyes. They’re kinda pretty sometimes.” You shrug, not thinking too much about what you’re saying.

“Hey my friend has eyes like that too! Though that’s a pretty common eye shape.”

“Yeah but I’d be able to recognize this pair anywhere. They’re quite distinctive.” Taehyung just nods, probably getting bored talking about a pair of eyes he’s never seen on a person he doesn’t know.

“Hey how come I’ve never really met any of your friends besides Hoseok? Are you hiding them from me?” You tease though you are a little curious. Sure he’s only meeting Jimin because Jimin basically forced you to do so but you’ve never even really heard him talk about his own friends.

“More like I’m hiding you from them. You’re just too cute; they might slip up and fall in love with you or something.” You laugh and roll your eyes, shoving his arm lightly.

“Yeah right.” You scoff, yelping when Taehyung nudges you to the side with his whole body in retaliation to your push. “You want to fight Taehyung?” You ask him, brow raised in challenge.

“Bring it cutie.” He laughs running down the sidewalk a bit as you attempt to check him. “No fair! You can’t just run away.” You pout, placated by the soft kiss he presses to your forehead. You take the moment of weakness to push him, giggling as you run away in the direction of Jimin’s apartment building with Taehyung hot on your heels.

There’s something unnerving about the way Jimin is observing you and Taehyung, a critical eye he’s never had before when you’ve introduced other guys. Normally he’s bubbly and warm, already giving them a hug like they’re his long lost friend but today he’s rather distant. It’s extra odd since he suggested you meeting but maybe Jimin is just feeling like playing the bad cop today. The doorbell rings and distracts you from observing Jimin who’s observing Taehyung as the boys watch you with anticipation. You’re pretty sure you can hear Yoongi’s stomach rumble as you answer the door while Taehyung heads to the bathroom.

“Oh hey Namjoon.” You say, not quite expecting to see his face. You haven’t really seen him since he accidentally punched you- you almost get the feeling he’s been avoiding you since.

“Oh hey Y/n.” He says sheepishly and you just give him an easy smile.

“You haven’t been avoiding me have you? Joonie I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?” He asks incredulously.

“No. The bruise healed already by the way, it was pretty small.”

“I’m so glad to hear it.” He breathes out, sounding pretty relieved.

“Just for future reference, if it’s an accident I won’t get mad at you for it.” You tell him.

“Good to know. Oh it’ll be $12.74. Half off for friends and family.” Namjoon smiles, a big one that makes his dimples pop out.

“You’re too kind to me Joonie.” You say, making sure to tip him 50% just because.

“You’re too kind to me.” He parrots but happily accepts, waving you goodbye before disappearing back into the hallway. Closing the door Taehyung reemerges from the back hallway and hurries over to give you a hand.

Setting the food down on the coffee table the boys immediately dig in, not even giving you time to grab plates. Sitting between Taehyung and Jimin, you happily munch away and the four of you eat in silence as My First First Love plays on the tv. Despite Yoongi’s claims that it’s cliche, you’ve caught him watching it every time you come over. He even teared up a little at the bridge scene.

When the wings are picked clean you ask Jimin to help you clean up solely to interrogate him from the safety of the kitchen. “Stop looking at Tae like that.” You whisper yell and doesn’t even look at you as he’s throwing the bones in the trash.

“I’m just trying to see if he’s the right choice.” Jimin whispers back.

“Right choice? You say that like there’s another option.” You say only to scoff. “Besides it’s my decision anyways.”

“But my ship.” He whines and you sigh.

“Just give him a chance okay? He’s really sweet and I want him to actually like you if this turns into something. Plus you’re the one who asked to meet him.”

“You’re right.” Jimin sighs. “He did think to bring chips after all. Jungkook would never.”

“Jungkook?”

“Who’s ready to get whooped in Mario Kart?” Jimin yells leaving you to stand alone in the kitchen, utterly confused. What does Taehyung have to do with Jungkook? Shrugging it off you head back into the living room, your seat next to Taehyung now occupied by Jimin who has decided Taehyung is his new best friend. He even gave him the matching controller, something you and Yoongi had to earn. Sitting next to Yoongi, you lean your head on his shoulder as Jimin teaches Taehyung the rules of Mario Kart.

“You good?” Yoongi murmurs as to not attract attention from the others,

“Yeah Jimin just confused me is all. You like Taehyung right?” You ask.��

“Of course, he’s my friend. What’d Jimin say?”

“Something about making sure Taehyung is the right choice. Whatever that means. And he mentioned Jungkook which just confused me.”

“I think he meant that you just act very different around the two. From what I’ve seen you’re pretty meek around Tae and while it’s cute it’s a little out of nature for you. We’re just used to you being a spitfire is all.” Your mind drifts back to Hoseok’s shocked expression when Taehyung referred to you as shy. Was the you around Taehyung really so different? Sure you were more nervous and struggled to think of what to say and were half as snarky as usual but that’s not a bad thing right? You’re just evolving. Besides Taehyung likes this version of you. But everyone’s doubts has you wondering if it’s really you at all. You’d never change yourself for someone else, right?

You can’t get the thought that maybe you’re holding yourself back around Taehyung out of your head all night, leaving you to not enjoy game night. Every time you interact with him you can’t help but wonder if you’re being yourself or if you’re portraying an image you’re not. Because while Taehyung does make you nervous and sometimes does make you stumble on your words, the more you’re aware of how you might be changing your behavior the more you’re aware that you’re suppressing your harsher burns or remarks that you’d have no problem saying to anyone else. You wonder if Taehyung realizes how different you act with Yoongi and Jimin compared to him or just amounts it to the fact that they’ve been your long-term friends. You don’t know, you’re not sure of anything at this point regarding you and Taehyung. You wish Jimin never said anything because now you’re left second guessing.

The thought follows you into the week and even leads you into ignoring Taehyung’s texts if for nothing but to not accidentally lie to him. You don’t want him thinking you’re a fake person and at this point you’re so turned around that you’re not even sure how you could make sense of what’s going on in your head. The more you think about it the more you’re convinced that you’re not yourself around him but the more you convince yourself the louder your doubts get because what if you’re only convinced because you think you should be. The only time you get any solace is with Jungkook and Lucy so naturally you’ve been spending time with them. Though it’s only to see her of course, never Jungkook. Which is why every day you make sure to bring her something new. Whether it’s a costume- yes you went back and bought her the pink onesie, she hated it but you got a cute picture- some new treats, toys, or even little bows you never came empty handed because that would mean you also partly came to spend time with Jungkook. And wanting to spend time with Jungkook would mean that your annoying e-boy neighbor finally broke down your walls and created a little home in your heart. It would mean that he’s finally become your friend and that’s information that can’t get out. Besides if he finds out you think of him as a friend would that change the way he interacts with you? Would you no longer be able to make fun of him and call him names like bambi just to piss him off?

You think about this as you’re stood outside his door, a hand raised to knock on it and two coffees in hand- Jungkook had promised you to teach you all the tricks in Smash Bros so you could finally beat Jin tonight and it’d probably take a while so you needed to stay awake- paired with a pup cup from Starbucks for Lucy when the door swings open and Jungkook’s doe eyes are frantic. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Is all he says before pulling you into a hug, the pup cup falling to your feet as you struggle to hold onto the two larger drinks. He grips you like a child holding a teddy bear for comfort, his breath ragged against your neck as he hides his face in the crook there. You instantly panic because something has him obviously scared but try your best to remain calm to comfort him. As best as you can you wrap your arms around his back, careful to hold the two cold drinks away from him.

“You okay?” You ask softly although very aware the answer is no. You and Jungkook have never gone down this road before- one of soft words and touches- so you try and navigate it as best as possible even if that means asking redundant questions.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Lucy, she just keeps coughing and she’s spitting out this white foamy stuff and I don’t know what to do because she’s so hot that I’m scared to carry her in case she overheats and I-“ He sobs out, pushing into you harder as he tries and hides the tears. It’s a little futile however as you can feel him shaking around you but let him collect himself before gently pulling away to set the drinks down. Gingerly you wipe his tears as he hangs his head down in shame- probably from breaking down in front of you (his frenemy)- and you gaze up at him softly.

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ll go with you to the vet and we’ll deal with it from there. You can even hold my hand if you need to.” You joke trying to crack a smile to get him to cheer up a little but it doesn’t do anything for him. “Do you have a kennel for her or anything?” You ask and he shakes his head no, his bottom lip trembling.

“I’m such a bad dog dad.” He sobs and you’re so frantic to calm him down you place little kisses along his face to try and stop the tears. He tenses immediately when he pulls himself out of his thoughts long enough to realize what you’re doing and you pull away embarrassed.

“We can use a box with some thin blankets it’s fine.” You say, refusing to acknowledge what you just did. It’s something that’s better to just sweep under the rug and forget it happened. Grabbing a smaller box from recycling- you’ve never been so thankful for Costco than in this moment- you hurry to Jungkook’s bedroom where you can hear a little honks from Lucy. Gently opening the door you find her nestled in a bunch of blankets on Jungkook’s bed, the fan blowing directly on her while her head nuzzles his pillows. The footsteps behind you alert you of Jungkook’s presence and you nod to Lucy lying on the bed.

“See you’re not a bad dog dad at all, she loves you. She’s finding comfort in your scent right now.” Stepping into the room you gingerly walk towards her as to not startle to poor puppy, setting the box down beside you on the bed.

“Hi baby, we’re gonna go to the doctor okay?” You tell her, gently moving her out of the nest and onto the comforter as you hurry to stuff the little nest into the box. “Bambi do you have a hoodie or something that you’ve worn recently?” You ask and immediately he begins fishing for one in his laundry basket. The hoodie is just a plain grey and you feel a little bad at the inevitable stains but place it into the box anyways before turning back to Lucy. Carefully you slide one hand under her shoulder and head while the other slides under her bottom half before you carry her almost like a newborn baby into the box. It’s not the best crate but it’s the best you can do at a moments notice. Jungkook immediately takes the box from you, careful to hold it from the bottom as you hurry back into the living room and grab his keys from the rack and the two coffees- you’ll probably need them for the long night ahead of you.

Googling the nearest 24 hour vet clinic seeing as it’s around 9 p.m you hurry into your car and head off. You attempt to play music to calm everyone’s nerves but Jungkook turns it off and instead you sit in silence as your navigation occasionally calls out directions.

A ten minute ride later you’re once again hurrying, Jungkook sprinting through the doors when Lucy starts to gag. You follow after him, coming in just in time to see one of the Vet Tech’s take Lucy to the back. Jungkook slumps against the counter as the receptionist readies some files for him to complete and you take the clipboard from her after urging Jungkook to sit down. Quietly you fill out the information sheet for him, only occasionally asking him questions for things you don’t know the answer to. You’ve just sat down when they call for Jungkook, his hand finding your own and you squeeze it thinking he just needs a moment of comfort when he tugs on it, refusing to let go. “Come with me?” He whispers and you nod, immediately standing up to follow him with his hand still sat comfortably in your own.

“So we’ve took her temperature and she’s running a high fever and obviously she’s coughing but can you describe her other symptoms if she had any?” The Vet Tech asks and Jungkook nods.

“She uhh coughed up this white foamy stuff that kinda had the consistency of snot and she was gagging before we came here. She’s probably been coughing for the last couple of hours.”

“Did she do or eat anything out of the ordinary today?”

“She met my friend’s dog. I know she doesn’t have all her shots but I thought it’d be okay since he has all his.” Jungkook mumbles and the guy nods along while making notes.

“We’re just going to take a few tests to make sure we have the right diagnosis and then we’ll get back to you. We’re not that busy so it should only take an hour or two at most. If you’d like to go back in the waiting room we’ll call you back when we’re ready or you can wait here if you’d like.” He says before exiting the small room and disappearing.

“What do you want to do?” You ask Jungkook and he just sighs.

“I don’t know. Do you think this is my fault?” He asks, his normally sparkly eyes are dull as devastation and heartbreak take full form in them. It hurts you to watch and you almost feel your own heart break at his evident pain. As much as you love Lucy you only spend a few hours a day with her so your pain can amount nowhere close to Jungkook’s.

“I don’t think we should go there, especially when we don’t have a diagnosis. Let’s just stay here so you can nap. You look exhausted.” You tell him and he sneers.

“You want me to sleep when my dog could be dying?” He yells and you flinch away.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. And she was puking up snot Kook it’s not like she was coughing blood. It’ll be okay.” You tell him, trying to be understanding and not take his yelling personal. “You don’t have to sleep alright?”

“Alright.” He sighs, sitting back down again before laying his head in your lap. “I’m sorry for yelling.” He mumbles, turning his head to bury it into your thigh to hide his embarrassment.

“I know, it’s okay.” You say softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and eventually his body relaxes enough that you realize despite his previous words he has in fact fallen asleep. You continue stroking his hair as he snores lightly against you, praying that for his sake Lucy is okay.

“Sorry that took so long, we had an emergency surgery and Lucy got put on hold for a little.” The Vet says as she barges in, your head banging against the wall as you startle awake. Jungkook groans from your lap, rubbing his eyes as he pouts at being abruptly awoken.

“It’s okay.” You croak out, voice hoarse from sleep. You stretch all your limbs, your back cracking wonderfully as the Vet waits for both of you to wake up, somewhat amused.

“We looked through the test results and it turns out she has Kennel Cough. It’s nothing too serious, it typically clears up on it’s own but since she’s not fully vaccinated we’re going to give her medicine to help clear it up faster and make sure it’s fully gone. By the time the medication is finished be sure to bring her back for her final vaccination and just don’t let her around other dogs until then okay?” You both nod and she gives you the prescription, before informing you that’d she’ll be right back with Lucy.

Checking your phone you realize that it’s currently 2 a.m. and you wonder just how long the two of you have been sleeping on these hard chairs. The vet appears shortly later with a sleepy Lucy- apparently they gave her some medicine to make her sleep through the night- along with a crate. “Figured you’d need a real one of these instead of a cardboard box. I already put her blankets and the jacket inside so she’s all good to go. Just make sure to stop by the front desk and sign out.” With a wave goodbye and a get well to Lucy she leaves the two of you alone again.

“Do you think the crate is free?” Is the first thing Jungkook says to you and you laugh, ruffling his hair.

“I don’t know Bambi. If not let’s just make a run for it.”

“Just what I want to be arrested for: stealing a dog crate.” He laughs, rolling his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to Lucy’s forehead. “Let’s go home baby.” He says and for a moment your tired mind thinks he’s talking to you. Shaking your head of useless thoughts you lead him back to the reception desk where he pays for her care- the crate surprisingly was free- before you lead him back to your car where this time he lets you play music on the drive home.

Pulling up to your apartment complex, you park before taking the elevator this time to the second floor, too tired to walk up a measly two flights of stairs. You’re just about to fish your key out of your bag when Jungkook’s hand on your wrist stops you. “Will you come in and help me make sure she’s settled?” He asks and he looks so nervous while asking you that you can’t say no- not that you were planning to. Nodding you follow him inside after taking your shoes off, tucking her into her bed that’s in the corner of his room.

“Do you think I should let her up here?”

“Your body heat might make her fever worse.” You tell him and he visibly deflates. “It’s okay you can wake up bright and early if you want to sit by her side all day tomorrow. But she’s so knocked out she probably won’t even realize you’re not next to her right now.” It’s the most you can offer him as your own drowsiness sets in and every time you blink your eyelids stick together for a little longer.

“Do you just want to stay here?” Jungkook asks and for a split second you’re wide awake. “You just look so tired I don’t think you could make it the ten feet next door.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“I could.” You huff and Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he observes you.

“You don’t have to though.” He says softly, moving to lay flat on his back.

“Touch me and you’re dead.” You tell him, the bed creaking as you settle down beside him. He hums in response and you roll onto your side, letting sleep take over.

Surprise, Surprise-when you wake up Jungkook has broken your rule. In fact his whole body is wrapped around you as his leg is nestled between your own while one arm wraps around your waist and the other has somehow slid under your neck. It’s entirely too domestic of a scene with a once sworn enemy and you scramble to get out of this position before Jungkook wakes up. Except he was either already awake or your squirming awoke him as he mumbles at you to stop moving before encasing his arms around you and rolling so you’re effectively trapped under him. It does render you motionless but it also renders you breathless since he’s so heavy. I mean really what is this kid eating?

“I can’t breathe.” You say into a mouthful of pillow only further suffocating himself. Jungkook only hums in response, snuggling into you further like this is the most natural thing for you two to do. You manage to turn your head enough to not be face deep in a pillow and choke out, “You’re too heavy. Get off.” as he finally gets the hint that he’s been killing you softly and rolls to the other side of the bed.

“Sorry.” He says at least having the decency to look remorseful and embarrassed by the fact that he almost murdered you.

“You broke my rule, I said don’t touch me.” You scold him, already reaching to the side to grab the pillow.

“But you cuddled me first!”

“Don’t care, I have to kill you now.” You shrug before whacking him in the face a little bit harder than you meant to. “Boom, headshot. You’re dead.” You giggle, probably way to nonchalant about the fact you woke up entangled in the arms of your nemesis but if you don’t think about it, it can’t hurt you.

“You really think a headshot could kill me, the indestructible Jeon Jungkook? Never!” Jungkook says, reaching around to grab a pillow to hit you with before Seokjin’s voice sounds through the other side of the door.

“Jungkook are you playing with your action figures again? I told you that’s weird.” You stifle the laugh fighting to break out with your hand, taking much to pleasure in the fact that Jungkook’s face is bright red and he can no longer look you in the eye.

“No Jin! I’m talking with Y/n.” He yells before his eyes widen at his mistake. He just outed you both as…cuddle buddies. The door bursts open at that, Seokjin being much to awake for whatever time it is in the morning with his phone pointed directly at you for incriminating evidence.

“It’s happening!” He screams, waking up Lucy who manages something that somewhat resembles her normal bark.

“Lucy!” You and Jungkook both scream, scrambling off the bed to check on her. Seokjin keeps his camera on you both as you and Jungkook fuss over Jungkook’s tiny puppy completely forgetting that he’s in the room.

“Everything is falling together so beautifully don’t you think Jimin?’ He whispers and you look up for a moment in confusion having heard him but he only winks at you in response. Seokjin sure has a lot of secrets.

You finally reach out to Taehyung feeling bad for ignoring him for a week but also needing closure. You need to see once and for all if you really are a different person around Taehyung. It’ll only have to be after the class that started it all, your 400 person lecture that is the whole reason you and Jungkook even became aware of each other’s existence despite being neighbors. You’ve asked him to meet you after class seeing that it’s the last class of the day for you and you didn’t think it was fair to keep Taehyung waiting any longer. He was a good person and he deserved to know where your head is at. You almost hope that if this doesn’t end up working that you can genuinely still be friends.

Jungkook has apparently decided to save you a seat- which is a little odd since you’ve never made an effort to sit next to each other before- if him flagging you down is anything to go by. He did make a good choice in seats though- choosing to be in the back and near the edge of the long rows- as it means you don’t have to climb over a bunch of people just to get to him. “Hi.” He breathes like he’s relieved to have you sit beside him. You wonder if he thought you’d just turn and walk in the other direction.

“Hi bambi.” You smile, pulling your laptop out of your bag and sticking it on the little tray connected to your chair. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

“Anytime thief.” He actually snorts when he watches your face drop, apparently still getting satisfaction from the old nickname.

“Are you never going to let that go?” You sigh, slumping back into the chair and placing your head in your palm.

“First you took my backpack, then my plant, then my dog. Is there anything you haven’t taken from me?” He teases and you huff.

“I give you a cute nickname like Bambi and you decide to stick me with thief. Why do I even try to be nice to you?”

“Because I’m adorable and it’s impossible not to be nice to me. But if you’re really so hard done by it I guess I can call you Thumper.” He shrugs, cackling at the disgust that takes shape on your face.

“Gross. Matching pet names is what you came up with?”

“It’s thief or thumper, your pick.” He has an evil glint in his eyes as he smiles so wide at you that his whole face crinkles, his shoulders rising up to shake in laughter. It might be the happiest you’ve ever seen him and you suppose if thumper makes him so happy it’s not so bad.

“Fine thumper will do.” You murmur, chucking when he high fives himself like a total loser. The professor then comes in and the class falls silent- which is a little odd since normally this class is never quiet- as he turns to face you all.

“It’s come to my attention there is a thief among us. Last week a student reported their laptop missing from this class that has yet to be returned. If you know anything about this and have substantial proof as to where it is, you’ll receive extra credit on your next paper.”

“Any chance it was you, my favorite little thief?” Jungkook whispers, groaning in pain when you elbow him.

“No and like I’d share it with you. You don’t deserve the extra credit.” You whisper back.

For the rest of the class Jungkook is surprisingly quiet, so much so that you even forget he’s beside you. When you do remember he is though you get oddly creeped out because in the time you’ve known him he’s rarely ever quiet. Even if he’s not making noise with his mouth he’s tapping his foot or fingers along to an unknown beat and yet he’s eerily silent. Turning to him in concern you watch as he analyzes the back of everyone’s head in great concentration, moving along the row in front of you slowly as to gain every detail. “What’re you doing?” You ask, ignoring the professor as he wraps up the lecture. Looking at Jungkook’s screen you notice that he hasn’t even written down a single thing from today.

“I’m looking for the laptop thief.” He says nonchalantly like it isn’t weird to stare at the back of stranger’s heads for the past hour.

“And you’re finding that out from looking at the back of their heads?”

“Yes, I’m seeing who looks most like one.” He tells you and you turn to him fully to get his attention.

“Do I look like a thief?” You ask, unmoving as the people around you quickly gather their stuff and head out of the lecture hall.

“Yes.” He says matter-of-factly. A smile making its way onto his face as he can read the clear irritation on yours.

“How so?”

“It’s just something about you. One look at you and I knew you were it.”

“That’s because you saw me with your backpack in my hand dumbass. You’re not batman with your ‘here comes trouble’ detector.” You scoff, finally moving to put your laptop in your bag. You’ve only just realized you two are about the last ones in the lecture hall and the remaining few can probably hear your conversation. You don’t need more people thinking you’re a criminal.

“That’s- that’s not even a thing? Have you ever watched a superhero movie in your life?” Jungkook asks, like he can’t fathom the fact that you were just spitting nonsense. Honestly you had seen some superhero movies but you didn’t care much for them.

“In my defense, spidey senses are a thing as well as a guy who literally shoots webs from his hands? How does that make sense?” You can’t help the smile that takes over your face when he groans in agitation, turning around to catch him running a hand through his hair and fixing his glasses- you were right, he only wears them for the aesthetic which is why he never has them on at home.

“He was bit by a radioactive spider!”

“How did it not die when being around the radiation? It’s literally a tiny spider.” You ask and Jungkook just looks at you exasperatedly.

“People don’t die from radiation.” He deadpans, flicking your forehead for being stupid.

“But it’s a spider. Also how did he not die from being exposed to the radiation? Wasn’t he like a scrawny guy?”

“That was Captain America you idiot.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as well. You knew that but Jungkook is too fun to piss off. Besides it’s only fair since you know he gets the same satisfaction from you.

“I know idiot.” You grin, flicking his forehead as you skip away from him and towards the doors.

He chases after you a matching grin on his face as he grabs onto your hand to slow you down. “So you’re purposely being irritating?”

“Don’t act like you don’t do the same.” You giggle, completely unaware of the third set of eyes in the room.

“Uhh am I interrupting something?” Taehyung asks and you suddenly remember you were supposed to meet him after class.

“Taehyung hi.” You smile at him awkwardly, taking a step away from Jungkook who drops your hand.

“You know Taehyung?” Jungkook asks you and you nod.

“Yeah I forgot I was supposed to meet him outside of class today.” You tell him before turning back to Taehyung. “Sorry about that by the way.”

“So Jungkook’s bambi?” Taehyung asks though it’s more like he’s talking it through himself. “And you’re the backpack thief.”

“That sounds like a bad rip off of Percy Jackson.” You joke, trying to displace some of the awkward tension in the air. No one laughs.

“Taehyung how do you know thumper?” Jungkook asks, his voice teetering on actually angry. It’s not the type you’re used to hearing for the one he directs at you is normally more light-hearted and teasing. This type is deep and gravely like he has hot coals burning in his windpipe.

“We went out a few times.” Taehyung says and you find yourself backtracking when you watch Jungkook’s face drop a little. You’re not sure why it drops but his downcast expression worries you all the same.

“It wasn’t anything serious though. It’s not like we’re officially together.” You don’t know why you rush to reassure him, especially since Taehyung is in the room and you’re talking about him, but you can’t help but feel guilty for his sadness. You feel a little bit like Jimin did when he moved out.

“So that’s it?” Jungkook finally speaks though his voice is noticeably weaker.

“Yeah.” You say, hoping that’ll solve whatever problem is happening between you right now. That seems like it’s the wrong answer though as he turns around and exists the doors on the other side of the classroom. You wish you could chase after him and find out what’s wrong but you don’t know what to say.

“Taehyung I’m sorry.” You start, after following him out to a secluded bench near the building you were just in. “I didn’t mean to say that I wasn’t serious about you. I do like you and our dates did mean something to me. I just- he looked so sad and I panicked.”

He’s silent for a long moment and you grow antsy beside him before he decides to speak. “Do I make you feel confident?” He asks, turning to you head on so he can read your body language as you try and process his question.

“What?”

“I was confused by why Hoseok seemed so shocked when I described you as shy and then I saw how you reacted with Jimin and Yoongi but I amounted to it being because you’re old friends. But seeing you with Kook who I know you only met a few days before me, I can’t help but notice you’re almost a different person. So, do I make you feel confident?”

“You…you make me feel nervous but that’s only because you’re so handsome.” You start only for him to cut you off.

“But you should be used to my face by now. Do you think Jungkook is handsome?”

“Of course but I don’t really see the relevance. Sorry let me rephrase, I’m not very good at expressing myself.” You ramble, mind sent into overdrive as you scramble to think of words.

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, placing a hand on your cheek to soothingly stroke his thumb along your cheekbone. “you deserve someone who you can easily express yourself to. You shouldn’t have to struggle to find the words.”

“But I’m like that with everyone, it’s just who I am.” You shrug but Taehyung stops you again.

“You’re not that way with Jungkook. I’ve heard you tell him off just fine in plenty of his stories about you. You never seem to find the wrong words around him. Even when you were stressed about his feelings being hurt just now you could find something to say. Besides, I don’t think we have half as much chemistry as you and Jungkook do. He almost kissed you that day Lucy peed on him.”

“He what?” You exclaim, pulling away from Taehyung in shock.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible but don’t you think it’s time you wake up and realize what’s right in front of you? Jungkook hasn’t been exactly subtle about his feelings for you and I think in your own way you weren’t exactly subtle about yours for him either.”

“So you’re telling me I like Jungkook?” You say, the words coming out slowly as you process the sentence. As odd as it sounds on your tongue you feel a small weight lifted off your shoulders.

“I’m saying that you should re-evaluate your relationship with him. I think you both mean a lot more to each other than the other thinks and it’s pretty easy to see on the outside. I just wish I would’ve figured out who you were sooner so I could avoid hurting my best friend.” Taehyung sighs, turning away from you to watch the people around you blissfully unaware of the mess that is your life.

“Best friends?” You exclaim. “But I never heard much about you, no offense.”

“We lost touch a little this semester when I became engrossed in my classes. If your portfolio is good enough they’ll show it to nearby galleries to display so I’ve been quite busy. The only bit of free time I’ve spent with you.”

“But we went to Hoseok’s show?” You say, still trying to piece it together.

“Again, time spent with you but since he’s my roommate I can’t exactly not show up to his recital. Also you and Hoseok are terrible actors, I could tell you were exes the moment you stood awkwardly behind me.” Taehyung chuckles and you slap his arm in response.

“Hey I could’ve been shy!”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Is that why you never talked about your friends much? Because I’d probably know them through Hoseok and that’d be awkward.”

“Yeah. I didn’t exactly know you were his ex at the time you asked me out. We’d only been living together for a couple months at that point.” Taehyung shrugs and you sigh. A lot could’ve been avoided if you and Taehyung had actually talked. Though you’re starting to realize that this is the easiest it’s ever been to talk to him now that the pressure of a relationship is off.

“Hey Tae, do you think we can try being just friends? I really do enjoy your company.” You ask, a little too nervous to look at him for his reaction. Facing rejection is never easy.

“I think we could work something out. Besides I don’t know if you noticed but this is probably the best conversation we’ve ever had. Ironically it’s about us breaking up, if you can even call this that.” Taehyung laughs and you laugh along beside him. Funny how some things work out.

The next task on your list is finding Jungkook. You look at the dining halls first- Jungkook’s favorite place despite the fact that everything is either soggy or undercooked- but he’s nowhere to be seen. Then you head to the library thinking he’ll go to the last place you’d think to look for him- which of course makes it your second- but he’s not there either. Your last resort is to head home and see if maybe you can find him there. Jin answers the door this time, jerking his head back towards the hallway where Jungkook’s room is.

“He’s back there sulking.” Jin whispers, handing you a tub of ice cream and a spoon. “He won’t let anyone in but I’m sure you’ll get special treatment.”

“Jin, am I in your OTP?” You ask. His eyes widen comically as he shakes his head side to side.

“No, of course not. What even is that? Sorry I don’t understand you and Kook’s nerd lingo.” He rambles and your mind- ever the hyperfixator- focuses on one word. In all the time that you’ve known your neighbors, you’ve never heard Jin use the word nerd. And you’ve been here countless hours every day. But one person you know that has an infinity for the word nerd is Park Jimin who you already know shares secrets with Jin.

“Hmm okay. Though you might want to tell Jimin your ship could be sailing fairly soon.” You wink, enjoying the fact that this time you’re the one leaving with a smirk and he’s left confused.

Knocking softly on his door, you ignore the way he groans “go away” at you and open it, ducking just barely in time for the pillow to graze the top of your head. “Thumper?”

“Hey bambi. I brought you ice cream.” Slowly standing up, you take in the way Lucy is wrapped up in his arms like a little plushie, a thick blanket wrapped around him as he burrows into the pillows the longer you observe him. Handing it to him along with the spoon you sit on the edge of the bed, picking at the loose threads as you try and find the courage to confront what just happened.

“Taehyung and I broke up, if you can even call it that.” You say suddenly, the spoon in Jungkook’s mouth falling against the mattress with a soft thud. You grimace at the hard stain that’s going to form but Lucy is delighted at the sticky residue left on the spoon. Lucky for her Jungkook is boring and likes vanilla ice cream.

“You what?” He asks, mouth hanging open until you push it closed.

“Don’t leave your mouth open, you’ll catch flies.” You giggle. “But yeah we decided we’re better off as friends.” You leave out the part that you decided you also might have feelings for Jungkook because today has already been an emotional day for you.

“Is-is there a specific reason why?” Jungkook asks almost pleadingly and as much as you want to give him the answer you hope he’s looking for you can’t. Not until you’ve slept on it, not until you’re sure that this is what you want. He deserves that at least.

“We just didn’t click the same. I was pretty shy around him actually. Can you believe that?” You laugh and Jungkook sighs.

“Why were you never shy with me?”

“You’re kind of infuriating. Besides Taehyung never pushed my buttons like you do. There was nothing to be snarky to him about.” You shrug, your mind momentarily thinking back to what Jimin said what seems like such a long time ago: you’re not good at flirting! You’re just mean and shit. While a little ineloquent for your taste it sadly does some you up. You guess you were forever destined to end up in an enemies to lovers.

It only takes two days for you to realize you’re an idiot. It only takes two days for you to realize that you may have accidentally been falling in love with your nemesis turned frenemy this whole time while not knowing it. You’ve always been bad with feeling but surely no one is that inept: well expect you of course. You should’ve seen it coming with the way he was constantly on your mind and began inviting yourself over to his place- something you don’t even do to your childhood best friend Jimin. Or that fact that you climbed in his bed, tired but competent to know that you’d probably wake up with his arms around you. And yet you continuously pushed these thoughts away under the pretense that he thought of you as nothing more than a frenemy at best- it was probably painfully obvious like when he put on the stupid chef hat to make you happy or when thief lost its negative connotation and became a sweet nickname for you. Perhaps the most glaring reason is the fact that he gave you matching pet names but in conclusion: you’re an idiot.

“How could I not notice?” You whine to Jimin as you walk through campus. You’re on a rather old path- one that’s less of a straight shot to the student union- enjoying the shade that the buildings provide from the sun. Summer is beginning to settle in making walking around campus your least favorite activity.

“They do say love is blind. Did you see that whole show they created? Yoongi and I made a shot game so whenever Jessica talked about her and Mark’s age gap we had to drink and I’ve never got wasted to fast in my life.” He snorts at the memory and you almost wish you had been there but drunk Jimin was undoubtably the clingiest Jimin. He was the epitome of the “I love you” drunk and as much as you did love him sometimes it was a bit too much for you to handle. Yoongi, however, loved drunk Jimin because Jimin gave him all the attention he was unwilling to express desire for. “I can imagine.” You laugh. “But I guess I don’t really know what to say. We’re rarely not arguing.”

“Yeah but isn’t it that ‘I want to kiss you but also punch you’ type?”

“Just how much do you and Jin talk about us? You’re starting to pick up on each other’s diction.”

“You should just give the people what they want and messily confess to him. It really sets the tone for your ‘i love you, I love you not’ relationship.” Jimin laughs.

“What should I say? Should I do it 10 things I hate about you style?” You ask, unaware that you’re passing the life science building,

“Yes! Give me an idea of the performance.”

“It’s not a performance, it’s a confession but nonetheless,” You pause and take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. “I hate the way you piss me off like the day we first met. I hate that I can hear your infuriating voice in my head all the time. I hate the way you talk to me like a friend. I hate the way I can’t stand to simply just be around you anymore. I hate the way you call me thief or thumper.” You’re too deep in your monologue to notice the way Jimin visibly panics in front of you, shaking his head rapidly from side to side to try and warn you silently to stop talking. Yet like any shakespearean play you run too long, too deep in your own feelings to notice the dagger you aim at your own heart.

It hits home when a shoulder checks into your own, a hurt, “If you hate me so much you could’ve just said so” coming from your favorite voice and you crumble. Because just like Romeo and Juliet you killed your love before it could have the chance to truly blossom. You think for once you might actually hate yourself as you watch his figure disappear as he breaks into a jog. Your heart cracks even further when you realize it’s probably because he’s crying- the imagine of him shoving his face into your neck to hide them from you resurfacing. And then you’re crying because you just ruined what could be the best thing you didn’t know you had. You wish you would’ve just said something two days ago because you don’t think you’ll get the chance to even speak to him again even if it’s just to apologize.

Silent tears streak down your cheeks- you thought it’d be a cool thing to learn how to do when you were younger (cry silently that is)- as Jimin leads you away from the curious eyes of the other students as they no doubtably wonder what has you crying at a little past noon on a weekday. You wonder what they’d think if they knew you accidentally broke the heart of the boy you’re in love with while planning a confession. It was a simple case of wrong place, wrong time and yet just like that he’s gone. You laugh at the irony of it all- you lost him before you even had him- and Jimin just stares at you with pity. You hate it and so despite knowing he’s just trying to help and that you’re being irrational you shrug him off you and sprint to your own apartment, hoping for solace in the silence. For once it’s nice to come home to nothing.

You can’t sleep. It’s been approximately twelve hours since you crushed Jungkook and you can’t sleep not knowing if he’s okay. He probably won’t answer when he sees it’s you- he won’t answer your texts or calls- and yet you can’t stop yourself from getting out of bed and knocking on his door. It’s asking for your own heartbreak but you figure you deserve it at this point. No one comes after five minutes so you knock again and wait another five. Not wanting to look like an idiot for standing in the hallway when no one is home- or at least willing to answer- you head back to your own apartment.

The next morning you wake up early in hopes to catch a glimpse of him going on his morning run- he always goes just before 8 a.m. so he can come back, shower, and then fall back asleep before he needs to leave for class- and yet his figure never emerges. Concerned you knock on his door and to your surprise Namjoon answers. Unsurprisingly he’s not happy to see you. “Go home Y/n.” He sighs. When he sees your dejected expression he pauses in closing the door on you. “Did you mean it?”

“No, he wasn’t supposed to hear that. I was um practicing confessing.” You murmur, looking down at your hands awkwardly as you reveal your true intentions to Namjoon. You feel much too vulnerable. “Have you ever seen the movie 10 things I hate about you? She confesses in a similar monologue to what I was attempting but I didn’t make it to the end when he heard.”

Namjoon hums for a moment before nodding like he’s come to a resolution. You wish he’d tell you what it was. “Give him time okay?” You nod solemnly before ducking back into your own apartment.

The next day you resolve to buy him a succulent plant, a little aloe vera one from the market Taehyung works at. The plant is what started this whole hatred turned friendship turned…whatever this is. If you hadn’t argued over one stupid little plant you’d probably have never spoken after you awkwardly returned his bag. You’d have no reason to. So you hope that while it’s not a big gesture, it’d at least be a small place to start. Quietly you sneak to his front door and place it on the welcome mat, knocking quickly before ducking inside your peephole. You watch in anticipation as the door cracks open before closing again, the little succulent still on the mat. You heave a sigh, wondering what else you could do.

The next month passes by slowly and every day you stop by the store to buy another succulent. You’ve started to associate them with Jungkook, picking one up for every day you think of him. Each one is named something different, tied with a different memory you have of him. Lucy: for obvious reasons. Frosty: for the first time you started to see him as something other than a frenemy. Bambi: for the man of the hour himself. And your personal favorite, thumper: a fuzzy little cactus that resembles a rabbit’s tail. Thumper also marks the day that started it all, the chain reaction that led to you discovering just how much your e-boy neighbor meant to you.

“Holy shit.” Jimin says, stepping into your apartment for the first time in a month. You’ve become a bit of a recluse, though you did apologize to him for shrugging him off when he was just trying to help you that day. The only time you do interact with people is when you go to class, the market or Jimin and Yoongi’s for game night. Other than that you just stay here alone, brewing in your self-made despair. “It’s like planet of the plants in here or something. Do I need to worry about you being a hoarder?” Jimin asks and you shrug.

“My mind kinda hyperfixated on succulents and the succulents remind me of him so I’ve been collecting them.”

“Have you tried talking to him?” Jimin asks.

“He wouldn’t pick up my calls and Namjoon said he needed time so I stopped trying. I tried giving him an aloe plant like Cherry but he didn’t accept it.” You sigh, picking up the plant he discarded and brushing along its leaves. Bonjour-dubbed the word sprawled across the welcome mat- wilts a little when you touch it and you wonder if your sadness is infecting it.

“This blows. Especially since it’s all over a misunderstanding.”

“Has Jin mentioned anything about how he’s doing?”

“I don’t think he’s faring much better. Jin has to take Lucy on her morning walks now because he barely wakes up in time for class. Apparently he’s taken up an interest in herbology though and is growing spices, wonder who he’s trying to remember.” Jimin nudges your shoulder and you roll your eyes.

“He’s probably doing it for Jin as a birthday present or something.” You’d rather not get your hopes up. He’d have talked to you by now if he missed you right?

You evidently get your answer as a harsh pounding on your front door wakes you up and half-asleep and a little uncaring about who’s on the other side you throw it open. Sleepily you rub your eyes while wondering why whoever was so desperate to talk to you is suddenly silent when the haze in your mind clears enough to register Jungkook stands before you with a 10 things I hate about you dvd case clutched in his hand. His eyes are red-rimmed and his cheeks are tear stained making you instantly reach up to wipe them away before you retract. He probably doesn’t want you to touch him. “Did you mean it?” He croaks out and you stare at him confused.

“Mean what?”

“When you said what you hate about me did you mean it?” Your eyes flicker to the dvd in his hand and it clicks.

“I love you.” 10 things I hate about you be damned. You’re done with dancing around your feelings and painting them in fancy words. Sometimes as you’ve learned from Taehyung it’s better to just be blunt.

“You- what?”

“I love your smile and the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. I love the little things about you like the mole on the bottom of your lip or the way you’re always humming a random tune. You tease me and piss me off but I’ve never wanted to kiss someone in my life more than you. This past month has been awful without you and I don’t think I can stand another minute without you. So call me a thief, call me thumper. Call me whatever you want as long as I’m yours.” He’s silent for a minute before the dvd case falls to the ground, his hands instead reaching up to cup both of your cheeks as he brings his mouth down onto your own. His lips are softer than you expected, fitting easily against your own as he presses them to yours tenderly despite the urgency behind his actions. Gently he parts your lips open to deepen the kiss and you sigh into him, pressing your body into his own wanting to feel his warmth. He only parts when you both need air, the two of you panting as you still stay close together.

His breath fans your face as he places three gentle pecks to your lips, his head resting against your own. “I love you too thumper. I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone half as much as I love you.”

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I wish I would’ve spoken to you sooner. And you know, for stealing your backpack.”

“Aha! So you do admit you stole it!” He laughs, grinning as you attempt to shove him away only to pull you closer. “But I’m sorry too, I should’ve heard you out sooner. And I’m sorry for always calling you a thief.”

“I already told you that was fine.” You laugh, leaning back to kiss the tip of his nose.

“Yeah but I know you hated it. I only kept calling you it though because you stole my heart.”

“Gross.” You fake gag, bending over to pretend to vomit. He giggles at your behavior, wrestling you closer to him as you try and turn around to walk away. “Who knew my boyfriend was so cheesy?”

“Stop pretending you don’t love it.” He says, finally looking up and noticing the terrarium that is your apartment. “Why do you suddenly have so many plants?”

“I got a succulent for every day I think of you.” You say, squealing when Jungkook attacks your sides.

“And you said I was the cheesy one!” He screams, chasing after you to tickle you further when you finally break free.

“Jimin our ship has finally sailed!” Seokjin whispers into the phone from next door. You and Jungkook had left your front door wide open, giving him a prime view as the two of you chased each other around, very much stupidly in love.

403 notes · View notes

scatterpatter · 3 years

Note

Corren - 1 through 100 - You did this to yourself.

FUCK YOU *UN-IRONICS YOUR ASK*

UNDER THE FUCKING CUT

1. What do they smell like?

Bad. Do you think their party is able to regularly take showers? I thinketh the fuck not. ... Pine and old books when he can self care tho.

2. What is their voice like?

Listen I know Corren, being taller, would be more likely to have a deeper register but you'll tear "tenor Corren" out of my cold dead hands

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Spite.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

When he first met his BFF Alondra, he was so antisocial and good at ignoring people that she actually got the impression he might have been hard of hearing. She never let him live that down. (one day I'll finish this fic i promise)

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

"I will keep all of my pain in here, and one day I'll die." ... Okay but listen he's squishy so he takes like one hit and is bloodied up. Someone get him a healer. Pls.

6. What do they like to wear?

He likes his cloak. Its weighty and soft(well. WAS soft. got a bit of wear and tear these days.) and like. Who doesnt love cloaks.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

Ohhhhh fuuuccck this one's tough. I might have to go with Torvid honestly. While the entire party has had a positive impact on him(and trust me I was this close to picking Alistair), Torvid's been more of the one to call him out on his bullshit and to, oh I don't know, talk about your emotions? Ever??? Yknow BEFORE they become too much to handle and he absolutely breaks down???

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

Alistair's cooking.

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Good luck finding him NOT cuddled up with at least one dog. Tbh he just enjoys cuddles in general.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

FUCKIN. GIVE HIM A GOOD STEAK. THIS BOY IS MOSTLY CARNIVORISTIC.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

As tempted as I am to say "His cooking", it's actually his singing.

12. How do they like to dress?

"Comfort over flashiness tbh. I gotta go ADVENTURING in whatever I wear after all."

"... Also don't you DARE perceive me as cishet."

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

Call him a genie because he will BOTTLE THAT SHIT UP.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Denial :D

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Shrike: Killing his dad

Me: NOOOOOO

EDIT: WAIT THIS WAS ANSWERED IN Q99 WHAT THE HECK

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Somehow more of a dick than usual. Snappy and cranky and just. Mrehhh.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Doesn't get drunk often, but when he does I imagine he's actually giggly and a little clingy. It's cute :)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

*Opens my Corren playlist* Oh yeah. It's either full edgy alt rock or indie alt "depressed millenial" tracks.

19. Are they right or left handed?

FFFuuhhhhck uhhhh well

Looking over my old art I can't seem to pick a dominant hand(I've even drawn him handling his sniper with either hand???????????) so like oops guess he's ambidextrous.

20. Fears?

The dark, the ocean, dying alone and forgotten, his friends losing their trust of him

21. Favorite kind of weather?

Rain!!!! Especially cool rain like what people often get in fall months.

22. Favorite color?

Indigo!!!

23. Do they collect anything?

Books :3

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold weather by far.

25. What is their eye color?

Electric blue!

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Well his race is a homebrew race known as Marelienth. Uhhh ethnicity? Idk he's from a mountain town way up north *shrugs*

In human aus I imagine him as half-Mongolian half-Norwegian so ayee

27. Hair color?

Black!

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

No :D He loves adventuring with his party don't get me wrong but he still has a lot of trauma to unpack. ... Also he was just possibly broken up with soooo. :/

29. Are they a morning person?

NOPE.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

*motions to above question* Sunset.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

More organized, actually!

32. Pet peeves?

*unravels a list. It's all shit the party has done. Mostly Alistair.*

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

HOOUSIDSJFK- HE- Y-YEAH HE SURE DOES

His amethyst pendant used to belong to his brother, Julian, and he gave it to Corren right before they were separated so you BET it's sentimental as shit and he wears it daily.

34. Least favorite food?

Mecha's usually a great cook but one time trolled him with some absurdly spicy curry he couldn't handle and he's never forgiven them.

35. Least favorite color?

Hmmm. Maybe... yellow?

36. Least favorite smell?

He spent a year with his party in a damp cave and no showers, so uh. I'll give you a guess.

37. When was the last time they cried?

Literally last night in our game's timeline :D Full breakdown and everything!

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

Torvid :D He was there to comfort

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

One time they were in combat and Corren took a few hits and was down to about 2hp or so. He had a temporary level thanks to Kieran, which boosted his HP a little bit. When he teleported them to a safe town, though, well... Torvid was waiting for them so that's cool. But uh. Yeah that temporary level wore off then and there, dropping Corn Cob to exactly 0hp and he just- flopped down face first in the snow and started dying then and there KJNDKLFNSLKN

40. Do they have any scars?

Do you want to talk about the scar over his eye from a fight he got in with his dad or like. The scars on his limbs from the time he was literally experimented on.

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

Undiagnosed+Untreated Anxiety, Depression, DPDR, PTSD, just to name a few

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Running away from his problems, definitely.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He's a pretentious nerd. He can be a dick if he doesn't care about you.

44. Why might someone love them?

He's an adorable nerd! He's a hopeless romantic and oddly enough an optimist. He's passionate and driven too!

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Well ghosts are like- a canon proven thing in his world sooo. Yeah.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

His party. Well- most in his party.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Nethyl :)

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

He's dating Nethyl and they're in a happy and healthy relationship :) *politely ignores canon*

49. Do they like surprises?

NO >:(

50. When is their birthday?

Heroya 5th! I think. I don't wanna check, assume it's this.

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

"You guys celebrate your watchdays?"

Jokes aside, he mainly just treats himself to a nice dinner and a new book or something :)

52. Do they have any family?

Two older siblings: Julian and Mila. His parents are Andreas and Fanya!

53. Are they close to their family?

... *Coughs*. He was close with his siblings, but Mila died and he hasn't seen Julian in 30 years. Was close with his dad but last time they saw each other, they fought and Corren might have killed him so. ... Yeah. :/

54. What is their MBTI type?

FUCK uh. I... N... T... J? INTJ. Sure.

55. What is their zodiac sign?

In Sekrezia: The eagle

In our world: Uhhh. Idk. Capricorn????

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Uhhh. Ravenclaw??? I know almost nothing about HP :/

57. What D&D alignment are they?

THIS ONE'S EASY- lawful neutral!

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

Used to have typical nightmares, nothing special. Nowadays though he often dreams of being underwater. Not drowning, though. It's... weird. He doesn't like those.

59. What are their views on death?

He's a necromancer lol.

Death is inevitable, though. It's a necessary part of life. Death is not an entire loss, though. One lives on in the memories others carry of them, in the love they hold in their hearts. Death is complicated, but that's okay.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Alistair :)

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

Dog time :)

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

... Ehhhhhh?

63. Do they have an accent?

Technically??? It's an accent from where he's from but like. I just barely tweak my own voice when I rp him so? Damn Corren I'm sorry you've been cursed with east coast dialect.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

"Damn who's the rich bastard here?" (cake is kinda a delicacy in their world- not like elites only but not NEARLY as common as it is here)

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?

Reassurance mode to whomever he's with. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Remember what I told you, death is a natural part of life, yeah? I don't have any regrets, I'm okay... Just. Thanks. For giving me a chance. Thank you. Thank you."

66. How do they feel about sex?

I SWEAR he's allosexual. I'm just bad at writing allosexuals.

67. What is their sexuality?

He doesn't really know how to pin it down, so he just calls himself "queer". Definitely not straight, that's all he knows.

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

AHAHA no. He's hella desensitized

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

Skulking cyst. Look it up at your own volition. It's. NO.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

It's 12:21 in the morning and I'm NOT about to scroll through a bunch of tv tropes just. just. NERD stereotype.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yyyyes? Only really if it's the people he cares about.

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Bullshit.

73. Do they have a pet?

WINGTHARA!! HIS SKELE-DOG!!!

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Oh yeah he's all bark and no bite. He usually just throws a little fit and/or yells.

75. How patient are they?

More than he should be :/

76. Are they good at cooking?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

Oh yes he insults the others all the time. No particular favorite, he likes so spice it up.

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Stim. Stim. Stim. His eyes get all sparkly and he. He.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

He will do everything in his power to assure they won't ever have to deal with their fears alone- You afraid of spiders? It's his job to get the spiders from now on so you won't have to deal with them.

80. Are they trustworthy?

Oh yeah. He's like Rapunzel- doesn't break promises.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Oh yes he tries to hide it. And yes, he's awful at it.

82. Do they exercise regularly?

Yes and no? No like- exercise regimen, but the amount of travelling and fighting they do is just- a workout in and of itself

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yeah! He's cute and he knows it baybie!!!

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

He,,, he likes someone who's physically stong,,, Muscles are,,, aaaaa >///>

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Someone he can nerd out with :)

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Impartial to it. He won't turn sweets away but he's not crazy about them either.

87. What is their age?

43, the equivalent of- I think someone in their mid 30s?

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

He's 6'8" :) Which is actually normal for his race

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

Sometimes! I like to think he has reading glasses or something like that.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

HE'S CUTE AND HE KNOWS IT.

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Julian tainted his sense of humor and now he finds the most dumb shit hilarious. Think very millenial/GenZ humor like "I wish I was Jared, 19"

92. What mood are they most often in?

"I don't get paid enough for this" or Fear.jpg

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People who don't keep their FUCKING WORD. Oh and like. Yknow. Half the shit his party does.

94. Outlook on life?

Again he's??? Oddly an optimist? In the "Things will get better and that is a fucking THREAT" way, but still optimist!

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

Talk about his family :) Or the fact that his boyfriend might want him dead :)

96. What is their greatest weakness?

He's squishy as fuck. He goes down easy.

97. What is their greatest strength?

He's extremely intelligent and great with magic and his sniper!

98. Something that they regret?

Not doing more to stop his brother when he tried to resurrect their sister

99. Biggest accomplishment?

Either convincing an entire town his name is Torren or accidentally convincing some very OP people that he's secretly a dragon.

100. Create your own!

FUCK YOU I SPENT LIKE 2 HOURS ON THIS. NO PROOFREAD. IVE ALREADY DESIGNED CORREN'S AND NETHYL'S HYPOTHETICAL KIDS. ANYWAYS THEY'RE TWIN IRINAGA AND I'VE NAMED THEM AFTER THE DNDADS TWINS: THEIR NAMES ARE LARK AND SPARROW.

#LONG POST #LONG LONG POST #Corren #FUCK YOU DREWSKI <3

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batarella · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Hate You - Part 12 (Jason Todd x Reader)

the angst gets even worse from here, folks.

WORDS: 6303 WARNINGS: ALMOST SEX, VIOLENCE, MINOR CHARACTER DEATH, SO MUCH ANGST

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

Then

“There’s no way I’m getting out of Jersey.”

“NYU? Come on, if you're taking a science course might as well go for the best.”

“New York’s just as shitty as Gotham. At least I grew up here.”

“If you’re staying in Gotham anyway, might as well take a course you’re actually interested in.”

You turned your head to the side, where Jason’s chin was resting on your shoulder. He shifted on the bed and let his legs on either sides of you fold up so you could hold the laptop better. “I’m not interested in any course, for your information.”

“You have to go to college, Y/N.”

You grunted, and you felt his arms around your waist tighten. “I can't believe you still hadn’t thought of this,” he said. “Some kids have their whole lives planned out all the way until they’re fifty.”

You hated it when he was so patronizing, but didn’t reject a kiss to your shoulder when he thought your attention was too far off into the laptop’s screen.

“Okay. All this is way too intimidating. What if I get the hang of it and decide I wanna proceed to medicine? I don’t want that.”

“You’re already hating the you five years from now. Chill out.”

“Ugh.” You scrolled through the list of universities nearby. “I’m not taking a sciences course.”

“Although I agree, Chemistry, Biology, and Physics are the highest marks in your record. It’d be much easier for you in the long run.”

“I don’t care. I hate it.” He snickered at your bitter annoyance when you shut the laptop close and set it aside on a chair near your bed. You then leaned against his chest and he immediately dug into your neck. “What about you?” you slightly pulled away. “What are you gonna take?”

Jason let out a long breathe out from his nostrils into the back of your hair. Tightly, you held his arms that were around you and craned your head to the side so you could look at him.

“What would you say if I took English Literature?”

“I think that’s amazing.” You tickled his cheek with your gentle finger. “Gotham U?”

“Yeah. It’s the only course I can think of that doesn’t exhaust me just thinking about it.”

You swung your thighs over to rest on his leg, and he started fiddling with the hem of your jeans, tracing your ankle. “You’ll do great.”

He smiled and kissed the corner of your mouth before pulling your head to rest on his cheek. “You know you’ll have to choose a course soon.”

“I know.” You looked down.

You weren’t one to look forward to college much. And it wasn’t because you had no plans at all. You just had no idea if you were to go out of the city, find a job somewhere that didn’t sound too repulsive or too much of a chore or go to college perhaps, but that felt way too much of a commitment to a future you had no idea about. What were you supposed to do?

If your grades had a say in it, science was the safest choice. Maybe even literature. But it mostly spiked all because of Jason’s help. What if you’d fail just as it was too late to turn back? You couldn’t afford for that to happen. And if anything, the only major drive was choosing a place where Jason wasn’t so far away.

Up until now, it seemed too early to make that kind of decision.

“What about music?”

You looked at him. “Funny.”

“I’m serious.”

“My dad will kill me.”

“Since when do you listen to your dad?”

Never. Never in your whole life did you listen to whatever he had to say. “Point taken.”

“You’re good at it. You’re amazing at writing songs. And your voice definitely guarantees you a spot.”

“I don’t know,” you settled deeper into his chest. “I never really thought of that.”

“Does the thought of spending the next few years of voice lessons repulse you that much?”

“You know for a fact that it won't just be voice lessons,” you scoffed.

“But does it though?”

You sighed and let your nose touch his jaw to give you that slight little push you always needed when you tried to figure shit out. “I guess not.”

“Well, you should give it a thought. Gotham College of the Arts looks promising.”

Looking up at him, you felt his arms shift, and you went along with him so you were now straddling his lap. He kissed you, gently at first before you felt his teeth nip at your tongue. “Also, it’s fifteen minutes away from Gotham U. Won't have to go so far just to see you.” He brushed a strand of your hair away from your cheeks.

Well, if he put it that way, maybe you will give this a shot.

You kissed him to relieve yourself of any more tiring contemplation about a future you regret never having planned out by the time you got out of middle school. You lightly swayed, letting him lean against the headboard. Soft. Subtle. Elusive. His lips were delicate, and so were his snaking hands that were crawling its way up your thighs. You giggled when he thumbed that sweet little spot in your groin he found out about months after you started dating.

You breathed harder, heavier, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck. He was leaning further into you to deepen his kisses. He was so warm… and when your hand wandered down his chest, Jason’s went under your shirt, making you jolt at his rough fingers tracing the sides of your waist. “You're so hot…” he whispered.

You smiled and dug into his lips again. Something was poking into your clothed cunt, and you accidentally bit into his lips too hard when he grinded against you. Jason hissed. “Ow!”

“Sorry!” you placed gentle kisses onto his lip, but he didn’t look too bothered. In fact, you felt him even harder beneath you.

His lips met your neck, and you could feel him wanting, desperate even, though there was that slightest bit of hesitation he tried hard not to show off. Probably afraid to mess up. But you welcomed him, moaning when he dug his teeth into your skin.

“Fuck…” Jason gripped on your hair, the back of your head, then with your heaving chest, he started biting into your collarbone, unsure of where to make you moan even louder. You found yourself starting for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up so you could touch the ripples of his muscles.

You were wet. You could feel it. You were biting your lip while you instinctively tried to push your legs together, but he was between them, and you couldn’t do much but lay there and take it all. Jason stopped, breathing just as heavily as you. And with your hands so gently holding his face, he looked straight into your eyes as he pulled on the back of his shirt and took it off.

He let you roam your hands around. Your warm, aching palms hovering over his lean muscles while you shamelessly bit your lip. He touched your forehead with his, feeling the way you were touching him. All over him. You brushed your palms against his pecs and jumped when he grinded up to you.

“Sorry…” he gulped. You shushed him instead and kissed him until he relaxed. Then you grinded against him, hard enough to make him audibly gasp. He let you roll your hips again, this time making you both moan into each other’s mouths.

Jason gave you a pleading look, asking if all this was okay. But it was without a word, and like him, you pulled back. Raising your shirt up and off your arms, your skin flushed the moment you saw him take his look all over you. Your bra-cladded breasts, your waist, your bare shoulders and how your hair laid so delicately against your skin. Jason looked up at you again, and you nodded at him.

You moaned at the first contact of his lips against your chest. Your tits, almost peeking out of your bra, were yearning for his tongue the more he placed kisses all over you. Then he pushed his weight against you, slowly flipping you over to let you lie down on the bed. You stared at him, kissed him hard, then moaned when he started going after your chest again.

His hands tried not to be so hard on your waist, but you could feel him wanting to dig into your skin, dig his nails into your flush. You felt his thighs part your legs and he situated himself comfortably on top of you. Then he grinded, again and again. Your hand went around his back and pulled him closer towards you.

Then he suddenly pulled away and hissed. You stopped, immediately backing off. Your heart was about to blow up and you instantly went to hold his head. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m-“ Jason flinched when he moved his back.

You quickly moved over to the other side of the bed, but Jason turned away which made him hiss even more.

“Jay, just let me look.”

“No-“

“What is going on?” you stammered, and when you stood up on the floor, pulling his hand away from covering his back, he stopped struggling.

You hadn’t seen it. Until now. This was recent. The largest bruise you’ve ever seen, spanning from his left shoulder all the way down to his lower back in several smaller circles. It was just by his shoulder blades where it was horribly blued and purpled, right where you were trailing your hands at just now. You placed your hand on it, but Jason inched away.

“What. Happened.”

“Nothing.”

He was looking away from you. Looking at the ground.

“Jason, you can't expect me to turn a blind eye on this again. What the hell is going on with you?” you insisted. You placed a hand on his shoulder, but he pushed it away.

He took his shirt back and slid his arms through the holes. “Workout.”

“Workout?!” you guffawed. “How stupid am I to you?”

He didn’t answer and moved over to lean against the headboard. “I hit my back against a pole. It’s no big deal.”

“No. Definitely not. That-“ you gestured to his back. “-was left by a fucking foot. Plenty of them!”

He crossed his arms and tried everything he could not to look at your face. You pulled on his arm, and just like last time, he pushed you away.

“I’m calling the police.”

“No.” He held your wrists, and with his strength you could never overpower, held it tight and took your phone away from you. “You’re not doing that.”

“Where did you get those?” You growled, frustratingly throwing his hands back towards him. “Tell me right fucking now.”

“I just got into another fight. What’s the big deal?”

You pulled on your hair. “You come home with different bruises every fucking week! Unless you're in some kind of fight club, I hardly believe you're that much of a thug-“

“Maybe I am-“

“You are insane!”

“So what?! I get into fights. All guys do.”

“No. No they fucking don’t,” you faked a laugh and covered your face with your palm.

“Did you get these from home?” your voice softened. “Tell me the truth. Please Jay. Are you being abused?”

“NO!”

“THEN WHAT IS IT!?”

“I TOLD YOU I GOT INTO A FIGHT!”

“THEN FOR FUCK’S SAKE, STOP PICKING FIGHTS-“

You were interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. You turned away, leaning against your desk and closing your eyes.

“Bruce?” he said into his phone. You heard deep murmuring, though you didn’t try so hard to listen in.

Not long after, Jason hung up. He stood up from your bed and picked up his jacket.

“I’m sorry. Bruce wants me -“

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you scoffed. “Does Bruce know? About that?”

Jason finally turned to you, standing on opposite sides of the bed. “He does. And we have a butler with medical training at home, so stop it.”

“OH,” you really wanted to laugh right now. “So now you think I’m being obnoxious!?”

“WHO SAID-“ he grunted, pulling on his own hair. “I never said that.”

“Yes you did!”

“I have to leave.”

You walked over to the door he’d just opened and slammed it shut with your palm. “We are not done here.”

“We are.”

You wanted to punch him. “What the fuck are you hiding from me, Jason?”

“Nothing.”

“You and I both know it’s not just the bruises. It takes you an hour tops to finish all our homework so where the fuck do you go to all night?”

He looked away from you, and you saw him purse his lips, steadying his breath.

“Fucking look at me-“

“I’m at home. Asleep. That’s it.”

“Or you're out with your friends? Having the kind of company you tell them not to squeal about to your girlfriend?”

“Okay. You’re insane. What makes you think I could-“

“Are you denying it?”

“Of course, I’m fucking denying it. That’s not what’s going on.”

“So there is something going on!?” you screamed. “If I find out you're hiding something, I swear to god-“

“You’ll what? Murder me in my sleep? Unless you forgot, I’m still not fucking afraid of you.”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD BE!”

“MAYBE I WON'T.”

“FINE!”

“FINE!!”

You were shaking. Your hand specifically. And there was a painful sprout coming all the way from your chest to your neck. It was like something was biting into your organs from the inside, making your throat burn too much for you to say anything more.

His expression softened when he saw you fighting back tears.

“I have to go.” He slowly pulled you to the side, storming out of the door before you could stop him. You made sure Jason heard you throw the nearest breakable object to your side, hitting the walls of your room. He stepped out of your apartment, and by then, you were on the ground, wearing nothing but your fucking bra in a crying mess.

-----

Jason regretted everything the moment he stepped out the door.

He was a huge fucking moron to tell you off like that when you were just genuinely worried for him. You, someone who’s shown him a kind of love he’s never had with anyone else in his entire life. Maybe that was why he was shit at handling it all.

You just had another fight a week ago. He was terrible at this. No matter how much he loved you, there was no getting out of his demons’ hold.

He wanted to turn back, possibly get down on his knees and apologize immensely for everything he’d said. But another call from Bruce and not long after, the Batmobile was speeding through the streets. He cursed and ran all the way to his bike, speeding behind the car and slipping into an alley so he could quickly change.

He really fucking hated himself.

By then it was almost sundown, and when they reached Joker’s massively scaled robbery in a mall at Otisburg, they were so close to being too late. Batman crashed his car into the mall’s entrance and he jumped out, disarming five men at just a swipe of his arm.

Robin didn’t take too long to arrive. His bike stormed in from the second floor window, flying in so incomprehensibly quick that the goons couldn’t move out in time when his bike landed right on their bodies. And when it did, Robin pressed a button on his wrist, and the bike’s tires accelerated to it burned their flesh.

Fuck this world. Fuck everything in it. Everything deserved to be beaten down to the ground.

He couldn’t care less when he’d hear Batman’s scolds even from all the way across the mall’s lobby. Robin narrowly missed the bullets, snatching their guns right from their arms along with a kick right up against their chests. And with his weight placed directly on their ribs, Robin smashed their heads in with the butt of their guns. Repeatedly. They’d probably die from it. Who cares.

He was so much stronger when he wasn’t thinking too much about it.

Grappling up to the higher floors, he was instantly cornered by ten of Joker’s men. All with their stupid fucking clown masks and guns in their hands. He flipped over, rolled around to dodge the bullets. He threw batarangs one after the other and flung the heel of his boot right at any face he could reach. He blew up a store. He blocked the bullets with his cape and moved at the split second they had to reload. He smashed a head right into a concrete pillar so hard that it cracked upon its immense impact.

It had grown dark. Twenty. Maybe thirty men down on the ground. So far, his heat sensors detected they were still alive.

An elbow behind him, he grabbed a man’s arm, flung it over his back and slammed his body against the ground even when he was significantly larger than him. He placed his boot against his chest. Harder. Longer. And when he was struggling to get out, spitting at Robin’s face, he merely wiped it away before he crouched over to repeatedly hit the side of his face with his balled-up fist.

“Robin!”

He ignored that and kept going. Over and over until he felt his victim’s jaw shatter and he was lying close to lifelessness on the ground. He stopped, grabbed onto his collar and threw him onto the floor.

He barely noticed the aches on his back and how it was definitely going to take a toll on him eventually.

Darkness. Pure darkness. The demons were taking over. Just as they often did. And when they do, there was no stopping them. Not even him.

Another goon tried to shoot him, but he just walked straight at him, blocking everything with his cape, and took the gun by the muzzle with a single arm. The clown backed off, and with a single swipe, Robin smashed the gun right into his head.

The gun broke in half, and he threw it to the ground.

There was nothing in his mind at all. Not a storm. Not a single thought. Not a single word that told him to stop or think of something cleverer to put them down. There was nothing. His face blank, emotionless, Robin turned to a voice crying for help.

He walked over to the source, coming from a broken window. At four stories high, he saw one of Joker’s men hold onto the window pane for dear life.

He looked just as villainous as the rest of them. “Help me!” he cried out to Robin.

How many lives has he taken? How many families left broken? How many has he hurt?

Working for Joker, the answer to that would be far from pretty.

He was slipping, barely on his fingertips. A fall like that was surely going to kill him. But how many lives would be saved if it were?

His foot was just an inch away from his fingers. Just a step. A single step. And he’d fall.

But he stepped back, looking at the man straight in the eye.

And without a single flinch from him, the man slipped off the window pane by his slippery palms and dropped to his death.

When he got to the ground floor, now with GCPD officers taking over the place, he was immediately grabbed by the shoulder and hauled into the batmobile.

“My fucking bike-“

“Leave it,” Batman growled.

He got into the car and drove out before anything else were to be said.

The drive was silent. For the most part. And when they got to the cave, Jason threw his domino mask to the ground.

“Do that again, and you lose the suit.” Bruce stammered.

“Boo fucking hoo.”

“At least fifteen of them were a hit away from dropping dead. Care to explain that?”

“Isn’t that what we do? Incapacitate them but not actually take their lives to satisfy your fucking morals?”

“Don’t start with me, Jason.”

Jason turned to him on his tip toes to try standing him off. “You have no idea how long I’ve fucking wanted to do that!”

“Then you're admitting to not being capable of handling this responsibility. THIS is a responsibility, Jason.”

“THEY WORK FOR JOKER. DO YOU KNOW HOW VILE AND DISGUSTING A PERSON HAS TO BE TO WORK FOR HIM? THEY’RE ALL SERIAL KILLERS. RAPISTS. HOW ARE THEY STILL OUR FUCKING RESPONSIBILTY?!”

“You don’t get to kill. None of us do.”

Jason stomped his heavy boots onto the ground and started for the door. “You’re a madman, Bruce.”

“One dead. Fell from the fourth-floor window. You were there when it happened.”

He was so sure all the pent-up lava was going to burst out of him anytime soon and destroy everything in its path. He stopped walking, kept his eyes on the cold metal ground.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Did you kill him?” Bruce said. “I’m only going to ask you once.”

Jason turned around.

“No.”

The man slipped on his own, and Jason just happened to be there watching him fall. So no, he didn’t kill him. He just willingly let him die. There’s a difference, right?

He didn’t even care if there was.

“Jason-“

“Good night, Bruce.”

He slipped out of his suit and stormed into his room.

He pulled out his phone.

Jason: “Babe, you okay?”

Five hours later, you still hadn’t replied.

His desk chair had been broken in half by his bare hands by the time morning came.

-----

If your chicken nuggets were still alive, you’d have killed the bird ten times over just by the tip of your fork.

You didn’t even eat. Your hand practically had a mind of its own, impaling your food until it was in mushed up bits. You were silent. Far too silent. Your eyes were locked onto your food, but if you were to be asked, you’d have no idea what was going on. And you felt empty, your body hallowed out to the point where you were nothing but a set of skin, flesh, and bone with no sign of a soul left within you.

You hit the bottom of your tray hard enough to make a dent.

You heard Jason from across you sigh. “You gotta eat-“

Smashing the tip of your fork into the largest piece of nugget left intact, you gritted your teeth, stared at the ground with those deathly eyes and stuffed it into your mouth. You chewed so harshly at your food that you might have tasted your own blood.

Jason shook his head, taking his can of soda and emptied it out before he’d say anything more. And when he’d finished, you heard the can get crushed by his bare hands.

A hard swallow down his thick neck and a grunt out in frustration, and it only made your head boil even hotter.

You looked up at him, momentarily catching his eye, and without breaking your deathlike eye contact, you pierced your fork into your tray, hitting the bottom. Jason cocked his jaw to the side, giving you the same frown, but he said nothing and leaned over to rest his elbows on the table.

Again. And again. Your fork made so much dents in your tray that it’d barely be of any more use. This time, you were eating the food you’d mutilated.

Jason’s teeth were biting into his lip so much that at the nth time you smashed your tray, he felt a sharp sting in the back of his gums and a taste of bitter iron filling his tongue.

“Stop that.”

You smashed your fork again, flaring your nostrils at him and tensing all your muscles that you were just a second away from pouncing at him. Thankfully, you didn’t. You didn’t listen to him, either. You pierced your food with your fork and clenched your jaw the whole time you chewed.

He gave up and finished his own food, sliding his tray aside with a strong, frustrated push of his arm.

When your tray was empty, filled with dents, you threw your fork right on top of it and immediately stood up, grabbed your cup of iced coffee while sparing him a lasting glare before you turned away to your next class.

Jason sat there, alone, his mouth completely dry and his fists wanting to hit the next thing that comes his way.

Calm. Reserved. Not yet screaming at anyone on the way to your classroom. Although people instantly stood aside the moment they saw you walk down the hall with an explosive look on your face, you didn’t blow up just yet.

You reached your room, and just about you entered the doorway, Lana bumped right into you.

“Watch it-“

She looked up, saw it was you, and instantly bit her mouth. To make matters worse, your iced coffee slightly spilled on your shirt.

Your fists were clenched. Furthermore, and you’d blow. Your breaths were unsteady, your teeth baring. The look on your eye was enough to give fucking Medusa a run for her money. You gritted your teeth and stood silent, watching Lana start to say something, anything.

But she craned her head down and stood aside to let you walk in. And with your eyes keeping on her, you took your time making your way inside, walking so slowly that everyone kept silent at the sight of you.

You took a seat. And Lana took one four seats away from you.

Jerry the science teacher walked in, bed head still on probably from being asleep at the library, and placed all his stuff on the desk.

“Afternoon, everyone…”

You didn’t listen to a word he said. Your eyes were on the board, but you couldn’t recall a thing that was on it. You were relaxed on your chair, back arched down and your arms crossed.

Even at your worst, the world managed to go on like you weren’t in some kind of crisis at all. The sun continued to show up that morning as if it were mocking you that other people probably had one of their best days right now and you were stuck sulking without a choice. Of course, you technically did. Jason texted you once last night. Twice this morning. He sat with you at lunch despite you on the brink of choking him to death. You haven’t said anything to him so far. But you could tell he was trying. Terrible tries, to be honest. But it was there.

“Ms. Y/N.”

You didn’t move your head, or anything else, when you looked at Jerry.

“No drinks allowed in class. Throw that out the trash.”

Everyone was staring at you.

“I’m not done with it,” you grumbled.

“I don’t care. Pour it out and throw it away.”

The cup was about to explode in your hand just like that soda can did with Jason. You made sure they all heard you stomp on the ground when you stood up. And with such force you pushed the chair behind you.

Silence.

You turned over to Lana.

She wasn’t smiling, but she must have loved seeing you being called out like this. You just fucking knew it.

She was watching you like all the other kids. But the longer you stared, eyes narrowed at her, you notice her breathe hard and turn her attention away to the blank wall in front of her.

Nothing. You felt nothing. You wanted to feel something. Anything to take you out of this sad, sulking state.

“Fine,” you said.

And without even the slightest speck of shame, you slowly walked over to Lana, took out the cover of your ice coffee, stopped right in front of her-

“Y/N-“

You poured the cup right onto her head.

You heard gasps, oohs, and hisses. But even Jerry was speechless. Lana horrifyingly shrieked, eyes closed and jaw on the floor. Your face was blank, hips cocked to the side like you were casually doing it in some sink or a trash bin. And it took a long while. Longer than you should. The coffee spilled so slowly into her scalp that you wanted her to completely realize what was going on far before you were going to finish.

Her hair and face were drenched by the time you turned the cup over until it was completely upside down. All the ice fell to her head, and she gasped.

Silence again. And the expression you had on your face never faltered. Jaw to the side, arms crossed, you sighed with a high-pitched voice mimicking Lana’s.

You threw the cup in the trash, giving everyone slow glances as you made your way back into your seat. No one dared to speak up. No one moved from their desk. You raised your eyebrow at all of them, then you turned over to look at Jerry.

“Done.”

You sat down, and Lana screamed out of the classroom. Normally, you’d be smiling your face off by now.

But just like the rest of the day, that persistent frown never left. You didn’t feel any better. Nothing possibly could make you feel better.

You were lucky it was Jerry that was in charge. If it had been any other teacher who had just the slightest bit of energy left in them, they’d have taken you to the Vice Principal’s office. But today, you got off scot-free.

Looking out the window, ignoring all else that was going on, you wondered how Jason was handling all this.

-----

Now

You were barely ten minutes into your appointment, and already, you were getting to the ugly parts you struggled so hard to repeat. The therapist did a good job at convincing you there was no shame to it, though. You, on the other hand, were going to have to try much harder at convincing yourself.

“Did all this start with just the bruises?” she asked you.

There was a twist in your chest, something so violently twisting all your organs, your heart just being one of them, and it was gripping onto your rib cage, shaking them so vigorously you felt like you were about to fall out.

“No… I think… Well, it was the point where things actually felt like they started to change. Even though it didn’t feel that way at first.”

“How did it feel at first?”

You shrugged. “Like just an ordinary fight. Something all couples go through.”

The therapist took note of that. The pain just kept worsening the more you talked. Wasn’t she supposed to talk just as much? Give you advice? Let you have a different perspective of things?

Apparently not. She continued to ask. “Was it?”

You didn’t exactly have a solid answer. It was. And it wasn’t. You’ll just have to keep going.

“We dealt with it horribly. By ourselves. I did some cruel shit to lash it out. Things I’m no longer proud of. And he did, too.”

“Go on,” she said. And you tried to hold back a roll in your eyes.

“But if there was one thing I noticed, we never lashed out much on each other. Sure, we’d bicker and fight and scream every once in a while. But I never once thought of hurting him just for the sake of causing hurt.”

“But you hurt other people in the process…”

You nodded. “I said I’m not proud of it.”

“I’m seeing some progress in you. I see you regret the way you handled that fight. And you wish you could have done things differently.”

Like a sword riding right down your stomach. You gulped. “Yeah…”

“How would you have done it? Knowing what you do now?”

She had to be kidding. You basically had your answer memorized over the course of three years mourning and blaming yourself for everything that had happened.

“I wish I called him that night instead of ignoring his texts. I wish I gave him the chance to apologize. Maybe even apologize myself. I wish…” you breathed. “I wish I just accepted the truth he was telling me…”

“Frankly, he was in the wrong as well.”

“I don’t care if he was anymore…” you caught your breath, stopping your voice from cracking.

The therapist gave you a bit of time to collect yourself. You were gripping onto the couch. Perhaps a bit harder than you should.

“The fights… I wish we realized none of them was ever going to be worth it. Not when it means I was going to lose him…”

-----

Then

Well, at least you let him take you home.

And after his argument with Bruce, he didn’t care if he was going to get another scolding when he gets home. He’d stolen one of his cars, and he was driving it right now with you at the passenger seat. You had your knees pointed out the car door facing away from him. And each time he glances at you, he’d see your face in the reflection.

You were staring at the glass, face blank. You hadn’t talked all day. Barely a word out of you. He desperately wanted to say something. Anything. But he’d end up realizing his words were just going to make things so much worse.

And he should have thought more about bringing the car with him. There was traffic. Even when you weren’t so far from your house. It only made everything so much more silent and eerie than it already was.

He wasn’t going to turn on the radio or plug his phone in for some music. The silence was going to be better. And he was afraid he’ll miss a whisper out of you if you were too hesitant to say anything loud enough for him to actually hear.

Your fights never went on this long. It usually just ended a few hours after it happens and you’d have kissed and made up before the night comes to an end. And they were always light, even when it worried him, it never actually came to the point where visions of him walking away forever suddenly surged up his mind. It wasn’t much different from the bickering you always had the first time you met. When you hadn’t gotten along.

He didn’t realize he was smiling, thinking back at the times when you’d punch him for letting a book fall to your head, when he’d purposefully hit your back with the cart and you ended up chasing him down the aisle. When you used to scream at each other just to argue over where a book was supposed to be placed.

Jason licked his lips and smiled at those memories.

Then he turned to you. You were his now. Even when at times, it didn’t feel much like it. You were still his. But when he glanced at you, seeing you look so miserable looking out the window, it hit him like a bat to the face.

He reached your apartment, parked right beside the curb and unlocked the door.

You looked at him, no longer in frustration, but with sorrow, weariness. You were tired and he was, too.

“Thanks.”

That was the only thing you said to him all day. And right after that, you walked out the door, closing it behind you without slamming it like you’d expectedly do.

And even when he knew it was just for the day, that’s when the visions came up. You walking away. Possibly forever. Him losing you to his stubbornness. Even when it was just from the car, it all felt like you were walking away from his life entirely.

So he got out of the car and raced to you before you stepped into the door. “Wait-”

You stopped, turning around.

You tried to make your face as expressionless as you possibly could, but even you failed at that. You looked exhausted, not at all like you were at lunch. And he walked towards you. Surprisingly, you walked down the steps towards him as well.

His eyes on yours, shaking and unstable, he slowly stepped in front of you and pulled you to his chest as numbingly tight as he could. You were tense, unmoving, and he could feel you hesitate.

But unknown to him, a tear had fallen down the side of your cheek. You eventually fell into him and instantly you wrapped your arms around his waist, stuffing your face into his shoulder like he was to your neck.

You didn’t know how long you stayed in his arms. But even with the wind so strong, nothing blew you apart.

It wasn’t the same at all. The quarrelling, the disputes, it had evolved into something neither of you anticipated, though when it actually happened, it wasn’t much of a surprise. The cuts it made onto your flesh were so much deeper, when at first it barely made any cuts at all. You thought that was how it was supposed to be, something that brought you together. Your petty fights have always been something to look back to and smile at. Something cute.

But now…

What happens now?

What happens when those same exact fights progress into something you’d no longer easily forget?

What happens when the pettiness causes a wound not so quickly healed?

What happens when the back and forth, the disagreements, the bickering…

What happened when they stop being cute?

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

AT LEAST KEEP ME ALIVE UNTIL THE FINALE

Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive @lucy-roo roseangel013bf @ loxbbg reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd angst #red hood #robin #batarella #batarella fluff #batarella angst #i don't hate you series #i don't hate you #jason todd x reader series #jason todd reader insert #batarella series

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hotpinkhoshi · 4 years

Text

kiss it better | one

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

*a/n*: hiiiiii! so here we go. i don’t have much to say except that you’ll probably notice this chapter is a bit shorter than they usually are for my fics. with this story, chapters may or may not be shorter in length. this is just easier on me, and helps me to keep a regular posting schedule. now, i’m not going to say i won’t post longer chapters, but i just wanted to get it out there. i have a tentative posting schedule in mind, which i’ll make a post about later, but i’d say you can probably expect a new chapter every two weeks.

also, just want to say- i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy right now. stay home, wash your hands, avoid contact with your face, and if you have to order food tip your delivery drivers a lil extra! and to those that don’t get to stay home and still have to work, i’m right there with you. we’ll get through this and all we can do is take it day by day ❤️

✩ index here ✩

make sure you read the prologue first!

Today had started just like any other day. Mark got up and went about his morning, brushing his teeth, eating his breakfast, and taking his usual ten minutes to sketch the ideas in his brain before heading off to work.

It’d been slow, but Mark wasn’t worried. There were enough appointments on Saturday and Sunday to make up for a slow Friday. The temperature had reached an uncomfortable high, so he’d dressed himself in a black muscle tee to offer some relief from the sticky air.

The early afternoon went smoothly. Mark took the opportunity to work on some new designs and do some organizing in his tattoo room, while the other guys opted to sit around showing each other funny videos on their phones.

By the time lunch rolled around, he decided to sit outside with his iced coffee, scrolling through social media on his phone while relaxing in the shade of the awning. He glanced up mindlessly, his eyes drawn to a figure standing across the street.

A girl holding an ice cream cone. Mark’s breath caught in his throat because, no, it wouldn’t be you. You’d be back home, attending some tiny college where your parents could keep a watchful eye on your every move, not here in the great big city.

Then the girl dropped her ice cream cone, her whine audible even from where Mark sat. He couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips. He shook his head, just as there was a knock behind him on the glass of the door.

Dahyun popped her head out. “Youngjae needs help grabbing some boxes from the back, can you help? Jackson and Yugyeom are being assholes.”

Mark nodded, one last glance across the street before he stood up, heading back inside.

-----

You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as Mark pressed the tip of his tattoo gun to your skin. Just the constant buzzing of the tool was enough to set your nerves on edge.

Once you felt it, though, it wasn’t so bad. It hurt, but you’d been through worse. It was comparable to a thousand tiny kittens scratching you with their claws, over and over again.

“You doing alright?” Mark asked, once one long minute had passed.

You nodded, your arms squeezing the back of the chair you were straddling. It was an uncomfortable position, but it was the only way Mark would be able to access the back of your shoulder. You’d also had to strip down to just your bra, so at least you were given some modesty.

“Yeah. Just... how long will it take?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed how hard he was concentrating. His tongue was stuck between his lips, peeking out the corner. He was entirely focused on the art that he was tracing onto your skin.

“Not long. The shading is what will take the longest, but it’s small, so I should have you out of here within the hour.”

You exhaled slowly and pressed your forehead into the cushioned back of the chair as he went over the same area a few times. Though he muttered a ‘sorry’, you found yourself wincing from the pain.

Yerin had left to get ready for work, as the stenciling and position process had gone on longer than either of you had thought. You’d made Mark move the stencil several times until you liked the positioning. Admittedly, it had been a stalling tactic to delay the inevitable pain that was coming.

“How’s Taehyung?” Mark asked, just as he took a break from tracing onto your skin. You opened your eyes to see him reaching for a cloth to wipe across your skin.

The question caught you off guard. Just the name of your brother was enough to rub salt into the wound you’d been holding closed for the last two months. You gulped, turning your face to press your other cheek into the chair, hiding your expression.

“He’s good. He’s been in Japan for two years now, I think. He’s happy there.”

You barely even noticed Mark returning to your tattoo, the pain less noticeable while your mind was occupied.

“That’s good. I saw on Facebook he has a girlfriend now?”

You nodded. “Mhm. Her name’s Jennie--she seems nice.”

Mark didn’t need to know that you hadn’t spoken to your brother since the week before you moved to Seoul. He didn’t need to know you’d been avoiding his calls, texts, and e-mails. Most of them you deleted without even opening.

From what you knew, Taehyung and Mark had simply drifted once they both moved out of your tiny town and started creating a life for themselves. Taehyung spent his years after college roaming the world, taking photos and putting on exhibits until he secured a steady photography job for a Japanese magazine.

Mark moved before that, though you hadn’t known he’d moved to the city until today. You hadn’t ever been close to him besides the casual greeting when he’d be downstairs playing video games with Taehyung while you were doing homework.

When you were younger, you’d had an innocent crush on him, only because he was one of the few boys that paid you any attention. You’d only ever had a handful of conversations, but he was always polite and even helped you with your math homework once or twice. It really hadn’t taken much to impress you back then.

“So, how long have you been in the city?” Mark asked.

You were grateful for the slight change in subject. It was only a matter of time before he started asking about your parents, and you wouldn’t have been able to pretend any longer.

“A couple of months. I just… wanted a change,” you told him honestly.

Maybe you’d gotten more than you’d bargained for… but regardless, you were grateful for your newfound independence.

“I get it,” Mark replied. “Alright, outline is done. Now we’ll just have to shade. I’ll give you a few minutes, okay?”

You lifted your face from the back of the chair and sat up straight. “Can I see it?” you asked.

It took a moment for you to realize Mark’s ears were turning red because without the shield of the chair, your entire bra-clad chest was now on display for him. It didn’t help that you’d chosen a pink, lacy bra just because it was the first one you’d grabbed out of your laundry bag.

Quickly, you leaned forward again to cover yourself with the chair, biting forcefully onto your lip. You could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Sorry…” you said.

Mark cleared his throat and turned around, reaching for a handheld mirror on the table behind him. “It’s okay… I’ve definitely seen worse. Not that it was bad, or, well-”

It was obvious he’d put his foot in his mouth. You found yourself giggling, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. Mark looked as if he was desperate for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head at himself as he turned back around. “Here,” he said chuckling softly as he held up the mirror behind you so that you could see the work he’d already done.

You managed to stifle your giggles as you turned your head. It was no wonder Mark was known for pieces like this--his lines were crisp and clear, flowing in such a way that it looked as if your skin was born with this intricate design. You couldn’t wait to see how it looked when it was complete.

“Good?” he asked.

“I love it,” you said, smiling wide. “Makes the pain worth it.”

Mark looked pleased with your answer. He set the mirror down and got up, switching out the ink on his pen for the color he was going to use for the petals, a soft cool toned purple.

You resumed your position against the chair after a few more minutes, fists clenched as you prepared for the pain.

-----

It turned out not to be so bad. Mark kept you distracted, asking you questions about your experience in the city so far. When he sensed you avoiding the topic of home or your parents, he didn’t push.

Once he got your tattoo bandaged up, you sat around talking for another half an hour while he showed you photos of his drawings, as per your request. You’d never known that he was so talented.

“I guess I should be going,” you said after a lull in conversation. If you wanted to get back to your room before your roommate began their daily music blasting and loud video game routine, you’d need to head back.

“Where are you staying?” he asked, pulling off his gloves and washing his hands in the miniature sink against the wall.

“Just… this little place,” you answered. Little was an understatement.

When you’d moved out, you’d only had a suitcase and a finite amount of cash. It hadn’t exactly been planned, so your options were limited. You stayed in the first hostel you could find, and you were disappointed to find that the wages you received from serving couldn’t provide you with anything better.

You shared a room, currently with a Russian girl a few years older than you that seemed to only be staying in Seoul to play shooting games and blast ear-piercing rock metal. Your last roommate hadn’t been nearly as bad, but you weren’t having great luck.

“Here, I’m just finishing up for the day. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat, then I’ll take you home.”

Your efforts to refuse his offer were basically ignored. He gave you no choice as he led you out to the front room to pay for your tattoo, whispering something lowly to Dahyun as she wrote up your bill.

“Mark,” you said in protest once you saw the total. You didn’t know much about tattoo pricing, but you were sure this was significantly lower than it should have been.

“What? It’s a family and friends discount.”

You sighed. As much as you wanted to refuse his help, you had to admit you could take whatever discounts you could get. Tattoos were expensive and you certainly didn’t have the budget to get one as impulsively as you had today.

“I’ll get my stuff ready, then I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Mark asked and you nodded, watching as he walked off to his room.

“Family and friends, huh?” Dahyun asked, eyebrows raised as she watched you sign your receipt. “You must have gotten really close back there.”

You laughed, sliding the receipt back over the table. “It turns out, he used to be best friends with my older brother. So… family, I guess,” you said, though you never really saw him as such. No matter how many times your mother acted like he was her second son.

“Wow, small world,” Dahyun said as she handed over a sheet of paper with a list of bullet points on it. She went over the aftercare process, recommending the creams and ointments that she preferred, and ways to help it heal faster.

After thanking Dahyun over and over for her kindness, you gathered your things and waited outside of the front door for Mark.

When your day began, you never would have thought you’d be having dinner with your brother’s old best friend, bringing back memories you hadn’t quite been ready to revisit. But he was so sweet to you, so easy to talk to, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no.

You’d always admired Mark’s choice to move to Seoul straight out of school, with no plan and no connections to the city. And he only came back for holidays and special occasions. While you were hastily packing your clothes into a duffel bag, you remembered thinking briefly of him.

“Ready?” Mark asked from behind you as he exited the shop. The sunlight hit his skin, bringing your attention to the swirling designs upon his shoulder. The way his shirt was cut allowed you a peek of his ribs—you could see loopy cursive etched on his skin but you were unable to make it out.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you replied with a smile, tearing your eyes from his bare skin.

#writing #fanfic #got7 fanfic #mark tuan #mark tuan fanfic #mark fanfic #mark smut #mark angst #mark tuan smut #got7 scenario #got7 smut #got7 angst

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imthecaretaker · 3 years

Text

More G/t? More G/t!

Yes friends, acquaintances, and assorted cryptids, I bring you another piece of G/t fiction for your enjoyment! Sit back and relax!

Prologue

The Fae creature snapped their fingers, causing a scroll to appear in midair next to them. "I believe we had an agreement, human," they said, adjusting reading glasses that had been conjured from thin air.

"Yes, but-"

"And you broke it," they said flatly as they looked over the contract.

"There was no other way!" The human pleaded.

The Fae tsked as they hovered a foot off the ground, still perusing the scroll. "Did you even read the terms? Consider the consequences?"

Another attempt to defend their actions was silenced as the Fae continued. "You know what is going to happen, don't you?"

A sigh, and a silent nod was the only response.

The Fae gave a disapproving shake of their antlered head and snapped their fingers. They and the scroll vanished.

"You'll do well not to violate our contract further," the Fae's disembodied voice warned. "Steeper penalties await if you do."

An unspecified number of years later...

Sam panted as he ducked and dodged through the trees, his ears filled with the sounds of his fast-approaching pursuer. He'd been on a hike in the woods when he happened across a rather cantankerous bear, feeding on a bushful of berries. But now, it seemed it wanted a taste of meat.

In his panic, Sam had taken a wrong turn somewhere, and was now sprinting deeper into the forest.

His body screaming for oxygen, he paused for a moment, his head snapping back and forth looking for a place to hide. Suddenly he noticed through a bit of brush, the yawning mouth of a cave. With the bear quickly closing, Sam dashed toward the cave. Maybe he could find some rocks to make a last stand with.

He ran inside for about twenty yards, before skidding to a stop. Before him was a crevice in the rock floor, at least thirty feet deep and maybe fifteen feet wide, too wide to jump without a running start. Which he wasn't going to get.

Turning around, he saw the bear slowly closing, huffing and growling. It got within ten feet and raised up on its hind paws. At nearly eight feet tall, it towered over Sam, eyeing him hungrily before roaring in his face. Flinching, Sam's nose was filled with the hot stink of the bear's breath. He tried to pray as he awaited his demise. Our Father, who art in Heaven…

"WHO DISTURBS MY REST?!" An angry male voice boomed from the darkness of the cave.

The bear, its attention drawn, stared past Sam, into the cave.

"I SAID WHO DISTURBS ME?!" The voice demanded again, along with the sounds of fabric rustling and something big changing position.

Now thoroughly spooked, the bear dropped back to all fours and made a hasty retreat.

Momentarily relieved he wasn't going to be bear chow, Sam realized he now had a much more pressing matter to attend to. The sounds of heavy steps reached his ears and he slowly turned around. His eyes widened at what he saw and he could only whisper, "No…"

A hoof, cloven and the size of a Volkswagen, appeared from the darkness and thundered to a stop on the other side of the rock crevice. Then, to its right, a fur-covered knee touched down before being covered by some rough white cloth. Two massive hands, with fingers at least as long as Sam was tall and ending in some sort of dark-colored bony material, crashed down on both sides of the human.

Sam gulped. He didn't want to look up. He really didn't. But his eyes slowly went up and up, to stare into the face of the biggest, and angriest, bull that he'd ever seen.

The bull, a minotaur, Sam realized, glared down at the miniscule intruder, its- his- cold blue eyes watching, studying. The nostrils of his bovine nose, sporting a gold ring, flared as his breath washed over the tiny human.

"Why are you here?" The minotaur demanded in his deep gruff voice.

Sam gulped and tried to speak, but couldn't.

"I asked you a question, human," the giant bull snorted.

"I… I was chased. By a, a bear." Sam managed to squeak.

"Bear," the bull huffed as he continued to glare at the intruder.

"Y-yes sir. Chased me here."

The two were quiet for a few moments, just trying to take each other in.

"Gonna run?" the minotaur asked finally, still wearing a stern expression.

"Should I?"

"Everyone runs, so I'd say yes."

Sam took a half-step closer. "How come?"

The bull's eyes narrowed. "Are you dense? Everyone runs from monsters!"

Another half-step. "Well, I'm not."

The bull leaned closer. "You may be stupid, then."

"Or I don't think you're a monster," Sam replied with a hint of a smile.

Squinting at the strange human, the minotaur adjusted his position so he was sitting. "You're the strangest human I've encountered for quite some time." He adjusted the shoulder of what Sam now recognized as a toga. The bull calmly reached down and carefully grabbed the human around the waist with two bony-ended fingers and lifted him up to his face. "Well, since you refuse to leave the presence of a monster, I suppose introductions are in order," the bull sighed as he deposited the human into his palm. "My name is Rheneas, and this cave is my home."

Once he'd steadied himself in the middle of a giant hand, Sam looked up at Rheneas and smiled. "Neat name. What's it mean?"

"It's an old word that means 'waterfall'. I was born near a falls many years ago," Rheneas answered, before carefully nudging the human with a finger. "Now, what sort of neat name does my little intruder have?"

"Well, my name's Sam. Short for Samson," the human replied with a smile. "Mom wanted a good strong name."

The giant minotaur nodded. " 'And Samson said, With the jawbone of a donkey, heaps upon heaps, With the jawbone of a donkey, I have slain a thousand men.' " He gave Sam another gentle poke. "You don't have the appearance of someone who can perform such a feat, though. A thousand men might even be a bit much for a monster like me."

Sam leaned on Rheneas' hard-ended finger. "You're not a monster. A little bigger than most folks, but not a monster."

Rheneas snorted. "Perhaps you are blind as well," he mused. "Do you not see the great beast before you?"

"Yeah, I see you in front of me," Sam replied nonchalantly. "But I don't see a beast, or a monster. I see… Rheneas, a large and so far very interesting minotaur. Honestly, if you were a monster, you would've thrown me in a birdcage, or crushed me in your hand. Maybe eaten me as a snack."

"I have no birdcage, I don't want blood on my hand, and my teeth are not ideal for eating meat," Rheneas responded flatly.

"See?" Sam pressed. "More proof! If you were actually a monster, you wouldn't care!" He smiled victoriously. "You're gonna have to face facts, Rheneas. I don't think you're a monster, and I want to talk and get to know you better."

The giant opened his mouth to argue, but couldn't think of a good counter. He tried again, only to fail. He huffed, defeated. "Very well. It seems there is no ridding myself of you."

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a crash of thunder. He turned around in Rheneas' palm to look outside. A storm had moved in as the pair talked, and rain was now coming down in sheets.

Sighing, Rheneas put his free hand on the floor. "Hold on, Samson. I'm going to stand up." With the human hanging on to his thumb, the giant slowly pushed himself to his hooves, before turning and making his way deeper into the cave.

"How long have you had this thing?" Sam asked as he tried to get both hands on the splinter buried near Rheneas' thumb.

"About three days. I've tried to dig it out but I can't get close enough, especially with my fingertips the way they are."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, wanted to ask about that. Okay, that's it, making some headway," he muttered as he got one hand under the wood fragment. "What are your fingertips made of?"

Rheneas drew a hissing breath as he felt the splinter move. "They're keratin, like my hooves. Can you hurry up? That kinda hurts."

Both hands now grasping the splinter, Sam nodded. "Here goes nothing to nowhere," he muttered as he pulled.

The splinter didn't move, but Rheneas flinched a bit.

Sam braced one foot against Rheneas' hand and squared his shoulders. "I said come outta there!" he growled as he pulled hard. He felt the giant flinch beneath his foot, but he kept pulling. Slowly, the sliver began to move, and Sam pulled harder. Grunting, he quickly adjusted his grip and gave another herculean yank. The splinter came out and Sam fell, landing on his back, looking up toward Rheneas.

The giant sighed with relief and looked down at Sam, smiling. "Thank you very much!" He grinned, his ears wiggling happily as he carefully slid a hand under Sam, helping the human to his feet. "That splinter has been bothering me, interrupting nearly every task I've had to perform with that hand." Rheneas sighed again and flexed his hand. "Ah, relief."

Sam tossed the stick aside. "Hey, no problem. Happy to help, big guy."

Rheneas sighed. "Well, since you have performed a kindness for me, I suppose I owe you something in return. Name it, and I'll do whatever I can to help."

Sam looked up at Rheneas, then at the ground, thinking. "Are there limits to this thing?" he asked, looking back up at the minotaur.

The bull rubbed the back of his neck. "Noo… well… not many," he finally conceded. "I may have to draw a line if you were to ask me to, say, attack your town and enslave its citizens, or raze a fortress. But no, there's not really a limit."

Turning back toward the mouth of the cave, Sam took a few steps across the stone platform that served as Rheneas' table. He stood quietly for a few moments. "Could you help me get back home?" he inquired finally. "After this storm passes, of course. Don't want you getting wet and sick."

Rheneas' cool blue eyes dropped. "I don't know about getting you all the way home, human. I've never left this forest since I was a boy- er, a calf-... a youngling." His ears drooped and he slumped down till his chin rested on his arms.

Sam turned back to the giant bull. "Never?"

"Never," Rheneas mumbled.

The human walked back to Rheneas.�� "I'm sorry to hear that. How long has it been?"

A shrug was his only response.

Hesitantly, Sam reached out with one hand toward the giant's face. Rheneas watched as the human's hand slowly moved closer, finally coming to rest on his forehead.

"You've been alone the whole time?" Sam asked quietly as he began to gently stroke Rheneas' face, from forehead to nose.

The giant nodded.

"I'm sorry, Rheneas," Sam softly said. "I'm sorry you've been alone for so long. This must be the longest conversation you've had in a long time, huh?" He continued gently petting the bull's face.

"Mm-hm," Rheneas rumbled. The human's soft tone and gentle touch were hypnotic, and something that the giant didn't realize he'd needed so desperately. Tears began to well up in his cool blue eyes, and he sniffled.

Sam looked into Rheneas' eye, before bringing up his other hand. He began to run circles in the giant's thick fur. How does that feel, Rheneas? That okay?"

The giant nodded. "It feels, *hic*, feels really g-good," he whimpered, tears threatening to fall.

"It's okay, buddy. Let it out, I won't think less of you," Sam soothed as he continued to massage.

Rheneas sniffled and whimpered, trying to maintain composure, until the dam finally broke. Being thought of as an equal, receiving help out of the kindness of another, the soft words and gentle touch… it was all too much for the giant, who couldn't remember the last time any of these things had happened.

Sam continued to massage, as well as whisper soothing words to the sobbing giant. "It's okay, I'm here for you. Go ahead, let it out, you're safe here…"

Finally, Rheneas' sobs subsided til they were reduced to heavy breaths. Slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and tear tracks streaked his fur.

Sam, with one hand on the giant's fur, slowly climbed over the chiseled-muscle arms and made his way to Rheneas' right eye. "Here, let's get that taken care of," he said softly, before removing his jacket and using it as a handkerchief, dabbing the giant's eye dry.

Rheneas sniffled and, with a growing smile, brought both hands up and gently held the human to his cheek in a nuzzle. "Thank you hum- er, Samson. Thank you Samson. This means so much, I could never tell you," he whispered.

Leaning into the nuzzle, Sam stroked the side of the giant's tear-stained face. "You deserve kindness, just like everyone else. Don't ever forget that, friend."

Friend. A happy tear rolled down Rheneas' cheek, and he laughed.

#g/t writing #g/t fluff #minotaur #oc: rheneas #oc: samson

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

Text

Everything You’re Looking For

David/Patrick, 2000 words, A03

S05e06 coda

In the days after what Patrick thinks of as the Ken incident, Patrick finds himself hyperaware every time a guy around his age comes into the store. It’s bordering on ridiculous, but each time Patrick approaches one of them with what he steadily maintains is his usual cheerful greeting, he can’t help but wonder what they see when they look at him. Is he now giving off some kind of gay vibe?

Adding to the insanity of this preoccupation is the fact that Patrick still, for the most part, has no idea whether any particular guy he looks at is queer. He’s actually pretty sure that making that judgment based upon a guy’s appearance is incorrect, and yet he doesn’t have the time to banter with everyone he meets for a few weeks to find out whether their eyes linger on his lips when he calls out their sloppy mouth, so he’s not sure how to discover if there might be an attraction between them.

It’s not as if he wants there to be an attraction between them – he doesn’t want to be with anyone other than David, that was never really in doubt, and now it’s firmly established. But he just can’t help considering what people think when they meet him. If Ken had seen something in Patrick that told him “yeah, he might be open to this” does that mean that Patrick has changed? In his whole life, before meeting David, no guy has ever hit on him. Something must have changed.

Of course it might also be that Ken saw Patrick interacting with David, or looking at David, or existing near David… Patrick thinks he’s pretty obvious, at least now, when it comes to his attachment to his boyfriend. Stevie has gone so far as to describe him as “besotted,” at least when she was high. On the other hand, if it was clear that Patrick was in a relationship, why would Ken have asked for his number?

It’s confusing, and distracting. Desperate to get his mind off the topic, Patrick tells David that he’s going to hide out in the back room for the afternoon and work on the books. David seems fine with this – he’s got no reason not to be – and so Patrick sits himself down with his laptop and proceeds to stare unseeingly at a half-finished profit and loss statement until his eyes start to cross.

Patrick wonders if this would all make more sense if he knew any other queer people their age besides David. He thinks that’s part of why David wanted him to experience a date with Ken. Having someone to talk to seems like it might help. But the last thing he wants is to make David think he wants to meet other gay guys because there’s something lacking in his relationship with David – there isn’t. David is gorgeous and impossible and everything Patrick had never known he wanted. Patrick can’t imagine being more deeply in love than he is with David, and in his heart of hearts, he doesn’t see that ever changing.

But Patrick is, for lack of a better word, curious. He’s never been a gay man in any environment other than Schitt’s Creek; no one knew he was gay until he became David Rose’s boyfriend. (His parents still don’t know, but he pushes that thought away – it’s a problem for another day).

He finds himself poking around online, looking at LGBTQ+ community center websites. There’s one not too far away with a wide range of programming, including groups that center around identity, advocacy, mental health, and the arts. There’s even a book club. Patrick tries to imagine showing up to a meeting with a dozen other queer people. He’s not sure how it would feel.

A few more searches bring him to an online chat group. He meanders about for a while, reading threads on coming out, and religion, and the challenges of being gay in a small town. He finds one that seems friendly, and without letting himself think too hard about it, he posts.

I haven’t been out for long, even to myself. I’m pretty happy hanging out with my boyfriend and his - he rapidly backspaces, deleting “his” and changing it to “our” - our most likely straight friends, but should I be making an effort to meet more queer people?

Patrick forces himself to tab away from the chat group and spend some time entering data on vendors into a spreadsheet. It’s easy work, though, and not nearly distracting enough. He doesn’t know why he thinks random people who have nothing better to do than screw around online are going to have anything valuable to say, but he’s still dying to know if he’ll get any responses.

Finally five o-clock rolls around, and he joins David out in the store to get ready to close up. David’s in a good mood, humming and strutting around the display tables with a broom that is serving more as a prop than a cleaning device, and Patrick forgets all about his post. They pick up a pizza on their way home, and waste time faux arguing about whether they’re going to go to Ray’s house next weekend for game night (they will, in the end, but David needs to get in a good rant first to feel like he’s being heard).

Alexis stops by for a few minutes, and she teases David for a while about a haircut he once got while drunk – in her opinion it was even worse than the one Jocelyn got at the casino. Patrick thinks Alexis is lonely now that David spends most nights out of the motel. He doesn’t mind her lingering in their space as if she has a right to be there. It’s nice, really, feeling like he’s part of David’s family, and he doesn’t like the idea of Alexis feeling alone.

David kicks Alexis out around ten, and they get changed into sleep pants and t-shirts and climb into bed. Patrick grabs his laptop and David smirks at him, finding a magazine and tucking himself close against Patrick’s side. It’s not weird for them to read for a while before going to sleep, even if it means that they don’t mess around every night. Patrick tips his head and kisses David’s forehead. He always felt guilty if he told Rachel he wasn’t in the mood, but it doesn’t work that way with David. David doesn’t have any doubts about the fact that Patrick finds him sexy. They’ve played with this often enough, David cranking Patrick up just with a sultry smile and a finger trailing along his skin in just the right place. But tonight, at least for now, Patrick has other things on his mind.

Bracing himself for disappointment, Patrick goes back to the chat. There are a number of replies to his post, and he bites his lip as he reads them. There’s a good smattering of “don’t worry, there’s no way to do it wrong” responses which are nice enough, but he’s already had David’s voice in his head telling him that. There’s one comment about how he should ask himself why this has occurred to him now, and if someone in the friend group is making him uncomfortable (no one is). Another tells him to consider whether this is a situation of internalized homophobia or if he feels safer with straight people than gay people (he doesn’t think that’s it). Another asks him if maybe he’s just not that into group activities, which is off the mark but makes him chuckle.

The response that resonates the most, though, that makes his shoulders relax and his nervous finger tapping subside, is this one: Do what feels comfortable for you now, and stay open to other possibilities. There’s no rule that you have to pick one way to be queer and stay that way forever. Maybe next year you’ll decide to express your sexuality in different ways, or feel the need to meet more people. If you are fortunate enough to have a few good friends, and someone who loves you, you’re doing just fine.

Patrick breathes deeply, thinking this through. It feels right. David stirs next to him.

“Ready to go to sleep, or is there still a spreadsheet that needs your attention?”

Patrick hesitates for a moment, and then turns his laptop towards David, who props himself up on an elbow to read the screen.

“I was considering an LGBTQ book club,” Patrick says, as lightly as he can. “Or maybe a bowling league.”

“Ugh, please. I know you’re just saying that to torment me. Who came up with an activity that requires you to wear unsanitary shoes?”

“I think they’re cute.”

“You do not.” David scrolls up to see Patrick’s original post, his eyes flickering over to Patrick’s face and back to the screen. “I was in a queer book club for a while. Mostly because Adrien’s caterer had a Cordon Blu trained pastry chef on staff. Those chouquettes…” David lets out a little groan of appreciation.

“Did you like it? The book club, I mean, I know you liked the pastry.”

David slings his arms around Patrick’s neck and looks at him steadily. “Patrick, I ran art galleries in New York City. I lived in Chelsea. I didn’t need a book club to find my people.”

Patrick feels silly for a minute, remembering again how very different David’s life has been from his.

“But it was fun, on occasion. When does it meet?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t get that far. I wasn’t seriously considering it.” Patrick pulls away from David, needing just a little less eye contact. He slides down on the bed, and David follows, tucking his head on Patrick’s shoulder.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind. I’ve exhausted all the reading material at the motel. I wouldn’t want to risk our relationship by taking any more of those quizzes.”

Patrick’s brain trips over this for a minute. “You’d want to come with me?”

David turns to him, and it’s clear that he understands that this conversation is more than just Patrick trying to decide what to do with his Sunday nights. “I’d like to. There’s a definite dearth of non-straights in Schitt’s Creek. But not if it’s something you wanted to do for yourself. That would also be fine.”

It dawns on Patrick that maybe David could use more gay friends too, or pan, or just friends in general that aren’t his sister or Stevie. And he imagines going to a queer group with David at his side, David’s arm in a fuzzy sweater wrapped around his own, David’s chin tucked over his shoulder. He likes the idea.

Patrick turns and kisses David, his mouth lingering on his lips. “I think that’d be good,” he says against David’s cheek. “If we both went.”

David hums his agreement and kisses Patrick back, heating it up, his hands roaming around Patrick’s body in the way that never fails to turn him on. Things fall away from Patrick for a while after that, as they strip off their clothes and press close, David’s naked body grinding hot against his under the sheets.

“I wondered about it too,” David says later, after they’ve caught their breath and nestled back together, sweat cooling on their skin. “How Ken knew right away.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm. I thought maybe he saw the way I looked at you.”

Patrick can’t believe there’s enough energy left in his body to blush, but he knows he’s doing it. He rubs his nose in David’s hair. “Yeah? How do you look at me?”

David laughs softly, digging his chin into Patrick’s shoulder. “Alexis says besotted. And she’s right.”

Patrick holds David tighter and kisses him again. “The feeling’s mutual, babe.” It’s love that’s changed him, Patrick thinks, as he drifts off to sleep. And it’s changed David, too. It’s shining out of them so brightly, it’s no wonder people can see it.

#David Rose #Patrick Brewer #Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek fic #S05e06

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finallyaniguana · 5 years

Text

Watch The Eyes: The Gotham City Airport [9]

[8] masterpost ao3 [10]

EDIT: so as it turns out there is not an extra day between Friday and Saturday. Its been so long since I wrote this chapter that i completely forgot to keep track of the days of the week so im bumping the schedule back a day (so the plane landed Sunday instead of Monday)

It had been a tense two weeks since Damian had spoken to Dick about what happened in the batcave. If the situation wasn't so serious, Damian would have laughed at his reaction.

"Wait, so you're telling me I was sparring with your soulmate?"

Damian nodded grimly.

"Dude... no hesitation. She kicked my ass."

He furrowed his eyebrows. 'Wait... she won? She can fight?'

"No, seriously. Whoever she is, she is fully prepared to deal with our family. Didn't even ask what was going on. You gotta let me know when you find her. I want a rematch."

While Dick was questioning his entire life, Damian was devising ways to attempt to find his soulmate. He was fairly certain she was in France by the language and time stamp, which he conveniently forgot to mention to Dick or anyone else for that matter. He also knew that she has friends named Alya and Nino. It wasn't alot to go on considering he had no idea where in France to start looking.

Alya was not a terribly common name, but being so young it was unlikely the girl had any press or accomplishments he would be able to search for. Since he didn't know her last name, he couldn't research her until he found his soulmate.

He hadn't been able to catch the name of the school. Maybe because the girl, Alya, was dragging him too fast. Or maybe it was leftover resistance to having a bond like this. But it would spell trouble for his entire family if she came to Gotham looking for Nightwing. He had no idea what her character was like. She could be totally reckless. Better to find her first.

He started a campaign of research, sparing none of his free time. But his isolation was leading him into weariness. He was usually fairly introverted, meaning he got his energy by spending time alone, but something was pushing him to spend time with others. So, to keep up his spirits and energy, he went outside the manor for his training. Kor'i was very excited to see him back, the rest of the Titans surprised. He didn't tell them about her, though. He wanted to keep that quiet.

He also went out of his way to spend more time with Jon, who was ecstatic that Damian had decided to find her.

"What made you change your mind?" Jon asked.

Damian sat in silence for a moment. His shoulders drooped and he exhaled.

"I don't know. It feels right , I suppose."

That was a good enough answer for Jon.

Despite not expecting any success, Damian searched up 'Alya France' on his computer. The only thing that came up was a site called 'The Ladyblog' which looked like a fansite about a superhero he'd never heard of. He scrolled through it for a bit before stopping on a video from about two years prior. He clicked it.

"Don't blink now, we're live from Paris. Yo peeps! Alya here bringing you the one and only Ladyblog. *gasp* What is that? Ladybug in action! Hang on, we're going for a ride."

The video continued to play in the background of Damian's mind. It could not be this easy. That was most definitely the girl he saw through his soulmate's perspective. He had absolutely no idea what the girl was talking about though. Ladybug? Chat Noir? Surely if this was real he would have heard about it. No, it must be some sort of fiction project or something similar.

She lived in Paris. Next he had to figure out what school this girl went to so he could figure out his soulmate's name. The textbook in Alya's hand being his biggest lead to the school.

From there... he would make his final decision. They would meet sometime in the coming year, but he didn't have to reveal himself since it was unlikely she would have figured out Nightwing's secret identity by then. Even Tim, undoubtedly the greatest detective of all the Robins, would have taken far longer to figure it out had he not seen Dick perform at Haley's a those years ago.

His mother would have told him to avoid the girl like the plague. Not even consider looking for her. She would only drag him down, add to the list of things that could be used against him. Make him go soft.

But his father? His brothers? They would say go for it. Even Batman, the ultimate loner, recognized the need to have connection. Thus starting his adopting spree that they are yet to be convinced has ended.

He'd trace that book to her school. Trace that book to her class. Trace that book to her. Unknowingly following a similar route to the Ladyblogger in front of him.

Tim sat in his office looking over the itinerary for the class that was visiting. Wayne Enterprises was sponsoring the entire trip.

• Dick was picking up the class from the airport and getting them to the hotel Sunday. Transportation had been secured for the whole trip.

• Dick was also to lead the tour of the building the first day, Monday. At least the public parts.

• Gotham High was accepting them the next few days Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, so the trip remained educational.

• A visit to the Gardens the next day, Saturday, a tour guide arranged.

• Back to Gotham High the next week, Monday through Friday. Tour of the Gotham museum of art Saturday.

• Gotham High again.

• Charity gala the last Saturday with a mention to the class president who wrote the winning essay. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He squinted at the name. There was something familiar about it.

'Pain is French for bread? That's got to be it,' he thought. He brushed it off. He had other work to accomplish.

Dick was to be meeting this class at the airport. As the tour guide, he was opening himself up to be the face of their entire trip. He would be accompanying them on all of their trips since Tim had work and Damian was in school (although some of the students were likely to end up in Damian's class). He wasn't sure if anyone would recognize him as Bruce Wayne's first son. To be quite frank, he was hoping they wouldn't. They were French so there was a good chance.

Dick was also on edge after having a discussion with Damian. He wholeheartedly supported him finding his soulmate. He seemed so desperate, bit in a quiet kind of way, even though for years he's been saying he wanted nothing to do with her, whoever she is.

He had been acting strange for two weeks. Rambling on. Cautious where he used to be fearless. Less like the grandson of the demon and more like... well a kid. An anxious kid. It was refreshing, even if he knew it was most likely Damain's soulmates personality peeking through Damian's cracked veneer. He was also becoming more social which absolutely floored B when his son brought Jon home to hang out or when he actually volunteered to train in the Tower with the Titans. It was strange. But a good strange.

The kids pouring out of the luggage claim looked absolutely exhausted. A seven hour flight would do that to you. Despite that, Dick noticed the group had two focal points between which students bounced back and fourth. An taller Italian girl and a much shorter girl with black hair to her shoulder blades.

He had a sign that said François Dupont which he flipped up, the kids pooling into the center of the area. All the kids looked around awkwardly. The small girl with the black hair noticed him first. She turned to to the redheaded teacher he hadn't noticed before. Caline Bustier he remembered. When Caline looked towards him, she ushered the kids in his direction, smiling at the girl who pointed him out.

All the teens flocked around him. The teacher smiled and extended her hand. He shook it.

"Alright! Francois Dupont, yes? Forgive me if my French is a little bit shakey. I haven't had too many occasions to speak it. My name is Richard. On behalf of Wayne Enterprises I welcome your class to Gotham!"

The kids all looked at each other with excitement.

"Now, if you'll all follow me. There is a bus waiting to take you to your hotel," Dick said brightly.

He beckoned them outside where a Coach bus was waiting. The luggage underneath, they were all ready to go.

"One more thing!" Dick announced.

They all looked at him. He held up a small digital camera.

"To prove to Mr. Wayne you all arrived safely. And for the contest webpage if that's alright with you."

He let Mlle. Bustier arrange the children so they could all be seen, she and Dick standing at either side of the group. The coach driver took the picture. The camera automatically downloaded all photos to his cell phone, so he was immediately able to send the picture to Bruce. That picture was from there sent to Tim who uploaded it to the contest webpage with the caption "The winning class!"

They all filed onto the bus. The Italian girl seemed to have priority over everyone else, or at least that's how several of her classmates treated her. She went on first. Not before subtly knocking shoulders with the small girl. It didn't seem friendly.

Since he had no details, there was little he could do unless whatever the situation was escalated under his watch. He decided to keep an eye on those two, just in case.

The teacher took roll once more. Satisfied that they had everyone, the bus started moving. After about forty five minutes, the bus rolled into the hotel parking lot. Dick stood first and went into the hotel.

He collected the room keys from the front desk while Mlle. Bustier handled getting everyone and everything off the coach.

He came back outside, passing off the thick envelope of key cards to the teacher, smiling brightly. She thanked him with her best English. Richard's face lit up in surprise.

"Oh!" he said. "I was unaware you spoke English."

Her expression grew slightly pained.

"Very little," she admitted. In French she continued, voice low. "Although our class president speaks it fluently and at least one of my other students has claimed to speak English quite well."

The word claimed was not lost on him. He chose not to address it at that time though. It was good to know that Miss. Dupain-Cheng spoke English, since she would be the one honored at the gala. He nodded to himself. Turning to the class he made an announcement.

"Names and room numbers are on the keys. Each of you should have one and may have them as a little keepsake at the end of your stay. As long as your teacher approves, I would have no issue with trading, and as long as everyone is okay with it."

A murmur passed along the small crowd. He nodded and turned back to the teacher. He pulled their itinerary out of his bag and passed it to her.

"I will be meeting you here at 8:30 am sharp. Everything you need should be on this paper including my personal cell phone if there is an emergency. On behalf of Bruce Wayne and his company, I again welcome you to Gotham."

When Dick finally arrived home, it was after Gotham High had let out. Meaning Damian was already home. He had been on edge for two weeks after his soul switching. Of course that spread to everyone in the house. Their identities would have to be comprised for this. But to see Damian happy... it might be worth it.

They had all discussed it and decided that Damian would find her and do some research, get to know her in costume, then decide if she could be trusted. Damian continued to give some weak protest over having a soulmate, but everyone could tell it was forced. He really seemed to want this.

'Speak of the devil,' he thought as Damian appeared in the hall.

"Grayson."

"Baby Bird," he returned his brother's attempt at a greeting.

Damian squinted at him.

"You're home quite early," he stated.

"Yes, I just got back from the hotel. I was picking up the class that B's sponsoring. Remember the contest?" he asked.

Damian's eyes widened with knowing.

"Oh, I was unaware that they would be arriving so soon," he said.

Dick raised an eyebrow.

"You gotta pay attention, pal."

His expression soured.

"I've been a little busy, Grayson.

The older of the two stood there, considering that defense. Under the circumstances of the last two weeks, he would cut him some slack.

"Well, some of them are going to be in your class starting Tuesday," Dick informed him.

"Some of them?"

"Well, it would kind of be a lot to add all those kids to one class. So, the class is being split up into groups of two or three and sitting in on the different classes in your grade," he explained.

Damian nodded thoughtfully before his face lit up with panic.

"I FORGOT I WAS SUPPOSED TO CALL JON ABOUT OUR GROUP PROJECT."

He turned and ran up the stairs.

Alfred emerged from a room to his right.

"Master Dick. You're back. Where did Master Damian run off to?" the butler asked.

Dick stared up the stairs where his brother had run. Dick had started to expect this odd behavior that Tim had claimed was being channeled from Damian's soulmate. He shrugged. Another time then.

For the quote from the Ladyblog I used the English version of Pharoh, so if the translation isn't quite what you're expecting, that's probably why. Also the mention to Tim seeing Dick at the circus was a reference to Knightfall. Takes place pretty close after Death in the Family. Tim is high up on my list of favs so I just wanted to throw some praise for him in here so... yay Tim!!

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed :)

taglist: (CLOSED)

@vixen-uchiha @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @violatiger8 @mochinek0 @constancetruggle @yamadochie @seraphichana @captainmac6 @nataladriana9 @iggy-of-fans @riarkle-felinettelove @luciferge @mystery-5-5 @mellownieice @northernbluetongue @imanerddealwith @ayuchan07 @poshplumcot @annabellabrookes @legendaryneckjudgestudent @chez-pezeater @friedchickening @da-tasuky @crazylittlemunchkin @g-arya @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @witchbitch1998 @theatreandcomicfreak @lysslovsanime @zalladane @tbehartoo @goggles-mcgee @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @melicmusicmagic @reichi-vogart

#daminette #maribat

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patricia-von-arundel · 4 years

Text

A World on Its Side: Part 1 - Prisoners of Fortune - Chapter 1

Art by @zaaschila

Rating: M

Summary: It began with a simple mission: to rescue the Imperial children from beneath the palace in Enbarr. But when Jeralt brings home with him the sole survivor - Edelgard - he sets in motion a chain of events that will forever alter the course of the war to come in Fódlan. Soon, Edelgard and Byleth will find themselves joined by unlikely allies... and by ghosts from a past neither knew existed.

Prologue

Imperial Year 1180

Keep a close eye on that one, they said.

Don’t trust what you see. This animal is feral. Rabid.

Anaxi had taken it all very seriously, at the start. Checking upon the hour, every hour. Keeping logs of all that he observed, exactly how much food was consumed at each meal, the length of sleep cycles. He asked the questions his training had told him to ask, despite receiving no more response than cold, bright eyes briefly meeting his own. By the book, just as he had tried so hard to do in his magic training.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that it worked no better here than it had there. Maybe he just wasn’t a by-the-book kind of man.

He had been assured that this was a truly plum position, especially for one on such a tenuous second chance as he. He was in charge of guarding no ordinary prisoner, kept only to provide a means to gain influence and information - this one was somehow... different. And had once escaped, almost a year previously, killing two guards to do so. (This information had weighed heavily on Anaxi’s mind, in the earliest days of his posting. Now, he questioned the truth of it, honestly - it was rumored there had been accomplices. This one hardly seemed to have the will to move, much less kill.)

A plum position, yes. A very special position.

So why did he feel as if once more, existence had chosen him as the butt of some nasty, inescapable joke?

All he’d ever wanted was to be noticed - to be something more than just another cog in an army that seemed less a well-oiled machine and more some mighty automaton collapsed to ruin, pilfered for scrap and beginning to rust. The children of Shambhala were taught of their own great legacy - descendants of those who had brought down gods! - but Anaxi had very early found himself questioning if any of that greatness truly remained. What was the value of legacy if no one lived up to it?

As a naïve child, he had dreamed of being the one to do it - to rise up, and reclaim that glory his ancestors had called their own. False gods once more reigned across a beastly, primitive world, worshiped by vermin. He could bring them down. He could become the rebirth of true history. An end to stagnation! Words with meaning, more than parroting ideals, proverbs of steel left without bite!

But it was not to be, of course - beyond boyhood, he remained devoted to such a cause, but knew the war would never be his to lead. Instead, he watched as his dreamt-of reclamation nonetheless began, plans unfurling first as rumor, but soon as proud promises that the end of that world of primitive creatures and nefarious false deities would soon, finally, be at an end.

Anaxi was then in military training - the perfect place for lapping up every drip of information. Soon, the gossip all seemed to whisper. Soon, soon, soon.

Then they called for more mages - training for any willing to do what was necessary for the greater good. And once more, Anaxi felt a calling. There were moles on the surface now. Infiltrating. Risking everything. But they could do nothing without magic.

Anaxi was accepted.

Half a year later, he was dismissed.

There was no dramatic story to tell, no grand plot against his future - he simply proved to be, in a word, lousy at magic. Juggling words, his hands, and the direction of power, all at the same time, turned out to be more than he was able to handle.

A blow - and one that, at the time, had seemed likely to leave unfading bruises to his pride. He had believed in himself - believed he truly had something to give for the glorious future of this woefully maligned land.

But eventually he realized... He still believed it. He just had to figure out the true capacity by which he might show it. It wasn’t magic or leadership - so be it. But whatever it was, he would search until he found it. Deciding he needed a position that allowed time for rumination on the matter, and speaking to some of his former tutors in spellwork, he had received his current security position: monitoring the most valuable of prisoners. The advantage of it was that they were also the least likely to escape - far darker means than wood and iron kept them in their cells.

This one, though - this one was kept apart from the others. He could see the dark magic, writhing, powerful, that worked its way across the entrance to the tiny, bare room. There was a bed in there, a wooden bucket, cleaned twice daily (thankfully not by him), a small basin of water...

And the prisoner.

Face covered by a cowl, though he did not know if that was by order, or choice. Rarely moving - sitting on the edge of that narrow bed, most of the time, looking down. Lean, in those dark fabrics: more a wraith than a feral animal. Still and silent. And those cold, bright eyes...

He no longer bothered to do hourly checks - just the occasional one, and he scribbled “no unusual activity” in the log for each required entry at the end of each tedious session. He spent most of his time cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the wall and trying not to doze off. He wasn’t supposed to engage beyond official questions, but he really wished the prisoner would talk, even just a little bit. Babble or something, like some of the prisoners in the regular cells, where he had been before. Some sound, any sound; something besides his own bored sighs.

He told himself he was accustomed to the silence by now. It wasn’t true.

Still, he remained. Considering the future. Maybe he would see that outside world of beasts, when it had been taken. Maybe there was still a way he could assist in the taking. Maybe -

He jerked his head from the wall, sat up straighter.

A noise. Around the corner. Echoing - a cry, quickly silenced. A muffled thud.

The prisoner’s head turned.

That sharp face, beneath the cowl -

It was smiling.

Imperial Year 1159

For most of the journey, it had rained. Like the clouds were following them - a dark thought, but an amusing one. And rather appropriate - she felt a little cloudy still herself, though far stormier than the steady spring showers she watched through the window.

The distance was not great, but the entire journey was across craggy hill and mountain, and the rain did nothing to improve the conditions of the roads. Even calling them “roads” was being generous - they were often hardly more than muddy goat paths. The carriage made slow, steady, laborious way along them, a crawl that made what should have been a 10-hour journey become instead a day and a half. She spent the short night at the inn tossing and turning, wishing desperately that this part could be over with - that she could just get there, and be done with it.

Be done with him.

The pompous, self-righteous picture of perfect piety sitting across from her in the carriage.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting there myself,” she had said - multiple times.

“Of course you are. But it wouldn’t do for a young lady for your stature to arrive at such a place alone. Besides, I would like to pay my respects to the Goddess at her own eternal resting place.”

Of your stature - she should have laughed every time he said it. As if she didn’t know exactly why he wanted to accompany her. It had less to do with the Goddess or any “eternal resting place,” and far more to do with hoping to kiss the holy rump of the Archbishop and any powerful noble rumps that happened to be there besides.

She had wanted to go to Fhirdiad, to study sorcery. But no - no, to him, that was not good enough. Not after he had been denied his own place, over a decade before, their mother citing the stiff cost. Where the gold had been found now, she did not know. Perhaps the Goddess herself thought to give her a year’s respite from pious social-climbers, and had vomited money down upon them.

She smiled at the mental image, then quickly forced it away - but not quickly enough. “There’s a happier expression,” he said. “From what I’ve heard, it will soon be hard to hide that happiness. You’ll like it here - it is the heart of all Fódlan.”

She had her doubts, but said only, “Perhaps.”

The sun was trying to find its way out as they made the final, winding climb - he’d probably see that as some kind of sign. There were other carriages now, a few open wagons, and one small party on horseback. She envied the last; they had probably made the best time of any of those arriving.

Arriving at Garreg Mach Monastery.

She had been here once before, though she did not remember it. There had been border skirmishes that threatened to turn deadly, and her mother had brought her here for shelter until the situation was resolved. She’d been only two or three at the time.

Looking up at it now, she wondered how impossibly enormous it had appeared to a child so young. Even now, it was imposing... almost monstrous. What message was intended? If she asked, she was certain the answer would be “sanctuary.” But she felt no warmth, no comfort. She felt threat.

...Which even she had to admit to herself was ridiculous. Certainly, she did not view the Church of Seiros with the same blind devotion as some, but this was no more than a series of buildings. Large, looming buildings, but still just stone and wood for all that. The worst that might happen here was admonishment for her abysmal bow skills. No need to be over-imaginative.

How often had she been told that?

A lot.

They were stopped at the gates, and a knight with a long scroll of paper opened the door, bowing his head as he did so. “New student?”

She opened her mouth, but was not given a chance to speak: “Yes - my sister.”

She bristled, but only until the knight looked at her then, not him. She appreciated that. “Your name?”

She sat up a little straighter, head held high. “Anselma von Arundel.”

Whatever happened later...

This was how it began.

Her room in the dormitory was larger than her room at home - significantly so. For all the value of the Arundel lands compared to much of the rest of Adrestia, they might as well have been in Faerghus (and practically were), and the manor house reflected as much: low and long, with a thatched roof and small rooms built to retain as much heat as possible through long, cold, damp winters.

The room at the Officers Academy was high-ceilinged, bright, airy. She wasn’t about to admit it to Volkhard, but this offered a very positive first impression of a school she had fought tooth and nail not to have to attend.

She left the two trunks of her things beside the bed - she could unpack them later. For now, while Volkhard was off kissing rings and the toes of Saints’ statues, it seemed the perfect opportunity to come to know her new surroundings a bit better, before the welcome dinner to be held that evening.

(That, she was actually looking forward to - because it would offer her her first glimpse of her house leader. Alger von Vestra, cousin of the recently-recognized new marquis - even in the remote northwest of Adrestia, the Vestra family was... notorious. Infamous. Volkhard’s pursed-lip displeasure at the choice had alone been enough to leave Anselma intrigued.)

She closed and locked the door to her room - something she would have to try to grow accustomed to doing, though slipping her very own key in her pocket made her feel foolishly adult - and gave her new home a longer look around than she had coming in. Walls, and more walls. Paths, and more paths. Grass. A lot of grass. All very well-kept, attractive, but -

I’m going to get lost. Often.

Perhaps forever, and she could become the Eternal Lost Soul of Garreg Mach, a tale told to frighten new students and see that they were in their rooms come curfew. Better than a year here trying to woo some noble so she wouldn’t have to spend the rest of her life offering utterly sincere prayers under Volkhard’s thumb. Though lost souls probably couldn’t visit Enbarr, something she rather wanted to do, as long as she was this close. She’d never been anywhere bigger than the hamlets and villages scattered across the Arundel lands, and most of those had more goats than people.

From her left, a sudden crash - loud and close enough to make her jump. She whirled, startled, to find a girl of about her own age. The girl’s eyes were wide, and her face was flushed a brighter color than her rather-bright hair. She was already in uniform - Anselma only noticed because the collar was incorrectly fastened, and had come askew. At her feet, the source of the crash: a pile of large books that had to stack almost as tall as she was.

Their eyes met, and the girl’s face grew even brighter. “I... I’m sorry. I tripped on the edge of the path. None of them hit you, did they?” She held up a hand, almost as if offering something. “I can heal you. I mean... if you need it.” She looked almost hopelessly eager - like a naughty puppy trying to wag its tail to avoid trouble.

“They didn’t hit me. I’m fine.”

The girl’s hand dropped, and so did her shoulders. “Oh. Good. But... I’m still sorry. And sorry if it’s rude, but I... I need to pick these up. Quickly.” She gathered them with almost frantic hurry, hugging them to her chest with one arm in nearly as much disarray as they had been in on the ground.

They were just going to go everywhere again if she tried to get them all like that. “May I help?”

For a moment, the girl’s eyes met hers once more. “You... you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. All my things are already in my room.”

“I... it would be easier. If you’re sure you don’t mind. I would... very much appreciate it.”

“Not at all.” She got the rest before the girl could attempt any more herself, then followed her to her room - “Hey, it’s right next to mine!”

“Really?” The girl was fumbling for her key, her books in danger of going everywhere yet again. Finally, she managed to shove the door open with her shoulder. “But your clothes... I thought they said the nobles mostly take second-floor rooms? That’s... what someone told me, anyway. When I was applying.” She dumped the books on her bed, so Anselma did the same. “Are you a noble?”

She laughed - she couldn’t help it. “Theoretically. More like Lady of the Goats. I’m Anselma von Arundel, and I’d bet my last 100 gold the name means absolutely nothing to you.”

For the first time, the girl smiled. She really had a very eye-catching face, especially those heavy-lidded blue eyes. “I don’t think I should take that bet. I don’t have 100 gold. I’m Cornelia Arnim.”

“Cornelia Arnim, who likes to read.”

“Well... not just... I like to read, but -” She stopped abruptly, and turned to stare out the window. Her eyes once more went wide. “I... my apologies. I have to go. Right now. The wagon is hired, and I have to get the rest of my stuff - if the driver’s not back to Enbarr by sunset, he charges for another day. I’m sorry, I have to -”

“I’ll help,” Anselma said - and at the door, took off running. The gates were the one thing she knew how to find, and she’d been cramped in a carriage for nearly two days. “Come on, hurry! We can get it all!”

Cornelia’s voice, calling after her: “Are we allowed to run?!”

“Nobody said we couldn’t!”

Behind her, she could hear the quickening footfalls, hurrying to catch up.

He had never had the richest lands, nor the richest life. Nonetheless, Volkhard von Arundel had always felt blessed by the Goddess. Truly blessed. He had never lacked for food, or shelter, or clothing. Losing his parents - his father when he was 12, to an injury from a horse kick; his mother when he was 16, to an inflammation of the lungs - had been hard, and attempting to raise Anselma, only 5 years old when he became her guardian, even harder. He had become lord and parent, and in doing so forewent his lifelong goal - something he had never truly abandoned until then - of being the first Arundel to attend the Officers Academy.

Still, he felt he had risen well to one of the Goddess’ accompanying challenges - as lord, he had managed to arrange for increased sales of meats, furs, and cheeses across the border, into Faerghus. It not only allowed for fresher goods to be sold, it also meant less travel and higher prices - much of Faerghus still highly reliant on imported goods to feed and clothe its population, and paying a premium to do so - which in turn led, for the first time Volkhard knew of in recorded history, to significantly greater profit across the soil-poor Arundel lands. Anselma might complain of all the sheep and goats, but he suspected she would change her tune soon enough, when she truly understood all that those animals had brought her.

But that was the other challenge of the Goddess: Anselma.

Here, he feared his plans had not fared so well. Maybe it was losing her parents so young, and then being allowed too much indulgence and freedom as he focused most of his attention on their livelihood. She had had a nursemaid, of course, and later there were several young scholars willing to take low-paid positions in exchange for a recommendation to carry along with them at departure, but perhaps none of them had been firm enough, disciplined enough, for one such as Anselma. She had been pushing boundaries - if not outright leaping over them - her entire life, and showed little inclination to attempt to stop doing so even now. She spoke her mind even when her thoughts were highly unorthodox - even vulgar - then five minutes later refused to speak at all. She had a self-righteous pride the Saints themselves would find trying - and Volkhard was himself certainly no saint.

She accused him of sending her to Officers Academy solely to see his own dreams fulfilled, and perhaps there was an element of that. Certainly, the offer from the Central Church to pay for her time here had come as an unexpected, very pleasant surprise, after he had so long ago seen his own dream of attending dashed.

But there was also the hope that it might instill in Anselma more discipline - and, perhaps, a modicum of piety. She did not yet recognize the value of such things in arranging a successful marriage - nor, as yet, did she seem to recognize the value of a successful marriage in and of itself. It was a sign from the Goddess, surely: she had rewarded him as a faithful servant, for his increased donations each year to the church as his own wealth slowly grew, and now she had sent a sign she did not intend to forget him... nor even his wayward younger sister, difficult though she might be to reach.

He had never had the opportunity to visit Garreg Mach; when their mother had fled here with young Anselma, he had been 14 years old, and already lord in name if not in practice: he remained behind. This visit was not one he intended to squander, and he allowed Anselma to shoo him from her new dormitory with little protest. There were things he must do.

The cathedral itself: that was where he must go first. One of the oldest structures in Fódlan, and - as he could confirm for himself now, staring up at it with his own awe-struck eyes - very likely the most beautiful. It was a far cry from the squat little stone church he had attended all his life. He could only imagine the glory of seeing this place filled, hundreds of rapturous voices rising even above the rafters, all the way to the heavens and the ears of the Goddess herself... Back at home, it was usually only himself, Anselma (if she hadn’t woken up early enough to disappear first), and a handful of the oldest inhabitants of the nearly villages who attended worship. Much - too much - of Adrestia had seen the dissolution of the Southern Church as an excuse to turn their backs on the Goddess.

The money in his pocket - he’d brought it for just this visit to the cathedral. More than he could truly afford to give, but it wasn’t only for himself - it was also for Anselma, and her future, and the future of the Arundel name. Perhaps a husband in Enbarr, children to cure some of Anselma’s high-spiritedness, and security for the family beyond wools sold to Fhirdiad and the frigid borderlands to its north: that would be all and more Volkhard would ever ask of the Goddess. His final gift, then, would be himself. Should Anselma bear a son to take over the family lands, he intended to retire here, and dedicate the rest of his life to the Goddess as a monk.

(Yes, of course, some would call his desire for a male heir antiquated and ridiculous - Anselma likely among them. But he had no qualms about being viewed as old-fashioned, and as long as he was alive and serving as Lord Arundel, he would pick an heir as he saw fit.)

It felt satisfying, dropping the gold into the collection basket beside the entrance. He walked inside slowly, breathing deep of hushed, rarefied air. This was where the Archbishop herself came to pray. This was where the Goddess dwelled. This was where the Saints might watch over Fódlan, with all their holy wisdom.

He could feel them all.

The space was enormous - cavernous. His steps echoed now, as did many of the prayers offered from the pews. The nave was more filled than he would have expected - and many of those praying or sitting in silent contemplation were in the uniforms of students. Some with their families, but just as many were alone - here of their own volition? If so, it must bode well for their potential influence on Anselma’s faith... or lack thereof.

He allowed himself, very briefly, to have a seat and a prayer of his own: a prayer that he was making the right decision. A prayer that this was truly the will of the Goddess.

Then, he went to the left. Down the aisle.

Just as the letter had said - a courtyard. A knight stood in the doorway. He ducked into a quick bow. “My apologies - this area is currently off limits.”

“My name is Volkhard von Arundel.” The words, too, came from the letter. “I am expected.”

Like magic - the knight stepped wordlessly aside.

The man outside had his back turned, looking out over the wall at the world spread before them, so very, very far below. He was wearing robes and the distinctive cloth tri-cornered hat of a monk.

“You came, then, Lord Arundel,” he said - and only then turned to duck his head in greeting. “Well met. The Archbishop will be pleased at your willingness to come even this far.”

“I would do anything the Archbishop asked of me. As I have already put into writing. I would gladly do so again, and seal it with my own hand.”

The monk almost smiled - he had a youthful face, but something of his expression spoke of greater years. “I think your presence here is assurance enough. Your sister - she has also arrived?”

“Yes. Though she is probably more eager to nose around than to begin her studies.”

The monk laughed at that. Very briefly. “She is not the first such student, nor will she be the last. Worry not - there are eyes everywhere at Garreg Mach, especially as new students arrive. She will be kept to approved areas. For her own safety, of course.” He glanced around, as if to make certain none of those eyes he spoke of watched them. “Now - about the... small matter... I alluded to in my letters. Dangerous to all of the Church - and all of the people of Fódlan. You remember all of this, I presume?”

“Of course.” The letter - the second he had received - had come with instructions to burn it... and a chit for the full cost of Anselma’s time at the Officers Academy. From any other source, he would have of course immediately smelled a rat, but from the Church itself - “Whatever I can do to assist you in this matter, I give you my word, I will do it.”

A curt nod. “My thanks, Lord Arundel. Come, then - let us speak of his more privately. And perhaps over a cup of tea? I fear all I need to tell you may take quite some time...”

Imperial Year 1180

Anaxi scrambled to his feet, reaching for the shortsword at his belt. He could feel himself shaking - and he could feel the cold eyes of the prisoner still, staring at him through all that crackling, surging magic.

I probably just fell asleep. Fell asleep, and had one of those dreams that wake you right back up, like the one where you miss a step and your foot jerks in real life.

Then why had the prisoner been looking at him? Why that smile?

He could hear something new now. It sounded like... breathing.

Panting, eager breathing.

Just around the corner.

On the surface world, beastly creatures stalked their prey. They made a game of it - toying. Sending eyes wide, flesh quivering, hearts racing. Fear - they feasted upon it as surely as upon muscle and marrow.

He was prey.

Cold sweat, beading along his skin.

He drew his sword. As silently as he could. As if whatever lurked around the corner did not already know he was there.

He wished now, once more, for magic.

The heavy breathing had slowed. There was no other sound. His own breath had long caught.

Then -

A slow, sliding, heavy step closer.

Another.

He held the sword up. Breathing, suddenly, in harsh, erratic gasps. “Halt!” His voice shook, too - and suddenly, irrationally, he wondered if the prisoner would laugh at him. “None are permitted here!”

“Oh?” The voice was deep... sonorous... and very close. “I do not recall asking.”

“I have a weapon!”

“...Glorious.”

He was grabbed by a blur of movement and pain, the shortsword falling from his hand as he was slammed, hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs, into the cold stone of the wall behind him.

But colder still was the blade that speared his middle.

He heard his own desperate, choked groan.

Eyes. Colder even than the prisoner’s.

Then the blade was gone - jerked mercilessly from his belly - and he was released, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

Blood. Hot. It was so hot.

Something to give for the glorious future of Shambhala...

His life.

It was hard to focus - darkness dancing around his eyes. Inside his head.

The last thing he saw: the one who had killed him. Walking through that crackling wall of spellwork as if it was no more than cobwebs.

And the prisoner’s eyes, watching him die.

#a world on its side #what-if tales of the tiny emperor #fire emblem three houses fanfiction

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thesnowinthemountains · 4 years

Text

NCT 127 helping you study

(a/n: i did my best but i apologize in advance if there are inaccuracies in certain fields of study, i also acknowledge that the lengths of these are hella inconsistent. oops.)

Taeil

He thought it would be a good idea to have music playing in the background while you tried to study. Tried. You kept getting distracted by a particularly good lyric or interesting instrumental arrangement until you were eventually about to crawl out of your skin. He was sitting across from you at the dinner table, your papers scattered everywhere, scrolling through his phone.

“Taeil, turn that off please.” You said it softly.

“No.”

You look up at him now.

“What do you mean ‘no’? Yes. Turn that off,” you laugh it off, but you’re the slightest bit annoyed. This is one of the biggest exams you’ll have this semester, and if you don’t straight up ace it, you’ll be struggling for the next few weeks. He shakes his head.

“Taeil-”

“I read somewhere that if you can associate sounds or music to words, it helps to memorize them. I’m trying to help.”

“Oh.” You pause. “Well, maybe try it again later, for now I don’t even have my definitions down.”

He finally looks at you.

“Fine.” The music stops and you fall back into a peaceful silence.

Johnny

“Alright, who painted ‘Composition with Red, Blue and Yellow’?”

“Mondrian. Come on, at least give me something difficult, I’m trying to pass this final,” you whine, head hanging over the side of your bed. Johnny sits at your desk across the room.

“Okay, how about some added incentive?” Your study sheet falls from his face and you realize you haven’t actually looked at him in about a half hour.

“Yes?” You lean up onto your elbows.

“Every answer you get right now is a kiss you’ll get later.” He cocks his head. You don’t even have to think about it.

“Deal! Come on, next question.” You plop back down. A few minutes later, after a lightning round of names and dates, colours and details, you sit up to find him writing on your notes.

“What are you doing? Those are important.” You frown.

“I’m keeping a tally so I don’t forget one later. We are at...” He smirks without looking up and counts his marks on the page. “Seven, so far.”

“Ah,” you blush, “carry on, then.” You think to yourself there’s no way in hell you’ll ever be able to focus on that particular page of notes again.

Taeyong

You were supposed to memorize the entire periodic table and you were absolutely overwhelmed at the prospect. This was one of those moments you wished you had some superhuman photographic memory that would require minimal effort on your end. Taeyong had you study piece by piece over a long period of time. At first, you hadn’t even noticed he was doing it - he was being sneaky.

“Hey, what’s the first row of the periodic table?”

“That’s a weird question.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t know, I just had a weird flashback to science class in high school, it was up on a wall next to my desk. I think it starts with helium, right?”

“Hydrogen and helium, technically, yeah, but that’s not really how they’re grouped.” You explained.

“Oh? So how are they grouped?”

“Well, you’ve got your metals, halogens, stuff like that.”

“Huh. And what are they?”

That’s when you started to catch on. You cocked your head at him.

“Which ones? There are a few different types of metals.”

“Well, whichever.” He shrugged, still playing his part perfectly.

Yuta

It wasn’t an exam, per se, but you had to put together a final portfolio for an art class, one you hated. It was supposed to be basic drawing techniques, but the professor was all over the place; not all that surprising for an art professor, but still annoying to follow. You were sitting on your living room floor, papers strewn everywhere, barely knowing where to begin. You had a drawing of a flower that was nice and simple, you had gotten the shading right, you liked it enough. One was of a hallway; same deal, the technique was alright, you set it aside, but you had to pick a total of ten drawings. You had dozens, some of the same thing over and over again because you, or the professor, were never satisfied. When Yuta walked into the apartment and found you in that state, he started by sitting quietly beside you on the floor.

“What are we doing?” He murmured after a minute.

“Freaking out.”

“I see. Anything I can help with?”

You didn’t answer, but held up a decent-enough drawing of a hand.

“Do you think the details on this are okay?” You asked. He looked at you and then the drawing. He liked pretty much anything you did, but he knew you needed brutal honesty if you were ever going to be finished with this. He took a long, deep breath.

“So, the index finger on this one looks a little wonky, I think this one,” he reached for another drawing of a hand, “has better lines, better dimensions. All the fingers are good.”

“Oh, I hate the thumb on that one, though…”

He shrugged.

“This one?” He picked a drawing of a desk under a window. “The light looks really cool.”

Doyoung

For your final assignment, you were to make a long, detailed marketing proposal to your class. If it was picked up, you passed, if not, you had an opportunity for a do-over, and a private presentation to the professor alone. You didn’t want the second option, you had other things to do after passing this class that did not include a one-on-one meeting with your middle-aged professor some time after the end of classes. You had been reciting the whole thing to yourself for days, you had prepared a PowerPoint presentation and a ton of visuals to aid you, but you needed a second opinion. You had gone out with Doyoung a handful of times, you both figured it was a matter of time before things between you were made official, so you had him over, sat him down, and launched into your presentation. At the end, you took a breath, then asked:

“How was that?”

He gaped at you.

“Well, hot, we’ll start there.”

“No, Doyoung, I meant would you go for this idea if you were the CEO of something?”

“Honestly, yeah. You made some good points, you had valid, real reasons for what you wanted to do and how you wanted to market this thing. I think it works.” He shrugged.

“You’re a business major, you better not be bullshitting me.”

“You’re a marketing major, you could probably tell if I was.”

Jaehyun

You had given Jaehyun a key to your apartment months ago. He let himself in regularly, and a lot of the time, he was there when you got home from school or work. This time, though, he walked in to you sitting on your living room floor, laptop on the coffee table, facing the couch. There was paper all over the floor, some crumpled, some ripped, some simply abandoned. He had to tiptoe and side-step all the way to you. Your hair was a mess, which he would’ve found endearing if your eyes hadn’t been bloodshot.

“What are you doing?”

You nearly jumped out of skin, startled.

“Fuck, when did you get here?” You asked, eyes wide.

“Just now. You know you have a desk.” He nodded to the wooden furniture in the far corner of the room. You sighed.

“I couldn’t sit there anymore, I was going out of my mind.”

“Well, what are you doing?” He asked again, picking up notes on the couch to sit, facing you.

“My final portfolio for my fiction class is due tomorrow and I haven’t worked on anything in weeks.”

“You’re always writing.”

“Yeah, I’m always writing, but I had two of these stories workshopped months ago and I hadn’t looked at them since. God, they needed so much work, Jaehyun, I can’t believe I actually submitted that. Plus, I was missing a good ten pages for the portfolio, which I’ve written now, thank god, but I have so many drafted versions, I don’t know which one I want. I wrote seven different endings. I’m not even sure about my characters’ names. Or if I want them to be named, nothing’s coming out like I want it, I don’t know what I’m going to do-”

“Okay, slow down, slow down,” he moved to sit on the floor now, facing you at eye level. “How long have you been writing?”

You looked down at the time on your laptop. You frowned, confused.

“That can’t be right.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“There’s no way-”

“Alright, go take a nap, I’ll order some food.”

Winwin

“I need you to play judge.” You told Sicheng.

“Judge?”

“Yeah, sit,” you placed him at the center of the couch, and looked around before handing him a spoon. “Tap that on the table if you need to interrupt me.”

He stared at the spoon.

“Isn’t that for weddings?”

“So, I’m basically defending a client accused of theft and-”

“Don’t I get, like, case notes or something?”

“So demanding.” You rolled your eyes but went for your notes. He looked them over for a few minutes before leaning back comfortably.

“Proceed.” He declared, voice loud and clear. You smiled before launching into everything you prepared for your final. He did a fine job of rebutting if possible and interrupting when necessary, though you had to stop him from objecting! about anything he disagreed with.

Jungwoo

As an education major in your first year, your big final assignment was to prepare an elementary-level language class to teach your fellow university-level education major peers. To prepare, you had Jungwoo come over and told him he’d be playing the role of a seven year old, which pleased him.

“I’m a baby, you know that. This is perfect,” he grinned, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you.

“Yes, now shut up, we’re learning vowels.” You said in your regular voice before switching to the over-enunciated, slightly higher-pitched voice of a first or second-grade teacher.

Mark

“How’s the essay going?” Mark asked, coming into your dorm room. He plopped down on your bed behind you.

“Well, so… get this,” you swiveled around in your chair to face him, leaving behind you a handful of novels, two different notebooks, and your phone open to pictures of your friends’ notes. “I’m supposed to write a compare-and-contrast essay about James Joyce and Samuel Beckett, of all people.”

“Is that so bad?”

“Mark, have you ever read Beckett? It’s like an acid trip in slow motion. You finish it, you have straight up no clue what you just read, but now you have to write about it.”

He frowns.

“And that other guy?”

“Joyce? He’s okay, I’m just glad writing about Ulysses isn’t a requirement. There are just certain things I’m not willing to put myself through.”

“Well, mind if I keep you company?” He leans back on your bed.

“Go ahead, just try not to distract me too much, I want to get this done today.”

“You won’t even know I’m here.” He puts his headphones in and lies back against your pillow.

Haechan

This boy had arranged a whole game night just for you. He had friends over, set up a whole tournament bracket in which he was, of course, your partner, and he made sure even if you didn’t end up winning, you would end up learning, memorizing, and having fun getting ready for your most dreaded final. Food was ordered, drinks were made, and finally everyone involved in this evening was sat around the dinner table, in a heated trivia competition.

Some days later when your exam came around and you saw the first questions, your mind flashed back to Haechan shouting the answer at the top of his lungs and standing up so fast his chair fell backwards. It had been a ridiculous, slightly stupid idea, but damn if it hadn’t worked like a charm.

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kazamastar · 3 years

Text

Welcome to 2021

Ver. 2.1 - Ok. February but still, here we are. “Behold it’s me” as Logic would say. [...] I’m sorry I’m a bit shook because I started to write at 10:01AM, and it’s precisely 12:07AM, I was progressing pretty well in the process of writting and then I made a bad move and lost everything I wrote. I’m kinda mad. Really, I was this 👌 close to give up on writting it, and you can notice that the pixels are touching. But I guess the “I said I’d do it, so I’m going to do it” mentality is taking me places, once again. Even if I have to start again (that's called mental strength, take notes). And I said I’d write it baked so here I am, baked and hella motivated to do it. So, W shouldn’t help me reminding me what I wrote in the first version but nevermind. So I guess I'll put the most things I remember. I can tell there were good ideas ! I'll take this occasion to remind everyone the concept of these posts but first we will recap numbers of this year (well, more or less accurate for 2020 as I'm writting one month late) (and I'll fucking stop writting on the tumblr site and switch to OpenOffice so my next words are not lost again). 637 Nakamas (thank y'all for being here, even if I post 12847 times in a row. You're the best). 3609 posts and 23 376 likes. (109 drafts : lol it's less than a few weeks ago)

Pic : Plot twist 2. No more smile, but the return of the bowtie. (aka « The 4 days late suit » aka « I'm old enough to know better »)

The choice of this picture was so simple. Or maybe I should have chosen the one with the mustache only I took during lockdown ? Ahah. But … this picture could almost resume the year on its own. If I'd describe it in depth and explain the context, I could review 70% of the events that happened this year (and I think I'll go for that later, interesting exercise).

So. First let me explain the goal of these sums up. Each « Welcome to XXXX » is a resume, a sum up of the year XXXX-1. I write these for me, it's a funny way to keep track of all these years. I try to describe more or less precisely what happened during the year. I allow myself to be more or less precise because I firstly write these for me. And sometimes these posts tend to be long. Especially this one. It's gonna be sooo long. Like, idk maybe highlight this line and take a few seconds to scroll down and see how looooong it is. Kinda discouraging isn't it ? Lucky you it won't go on forever though as today, as I'm writting that it's 12:23PM and I'll have to be gone at 4 or 5PM. But I think contraints make art, even if I don't like to write under any kind of pressure. But I'm determined to do it in one take. So in these posts I also write about the TV Shows, manga, anime, movies I've seen/read. Even books, as I finally had the chance to read « Le Petit Prince » this year. We all know we had time this year, don't we ? And at the end, I post a 12 songs playlist (+ songs that I discovered this year that also are going to remind me of the year). We can roughly say it's « 1 song/1 month » but it's not always true. These songs are songs I like a lot, like really (but not necessarily my favorite) but above all, they remind me of the year I'm resuming (it can also be older songs). I also post my top 3 albums of the year. I'm thinking also of detailing my choices of playlist. Maybe not explaining all of them but a few. [12:36PM. And I'm already hungry.] On the 1st try I remember I talked about the TV shows I saw. I forgot to mention it but I write in English for a few reasons. First is : it helps me exercising my English. For me, it's the most beautiful langage to talk and it's a good occasion to do so. And then I actually enjoy writting in English. And it prevents unwanted people who don't master English to read all that (as it is pretty intimate). But joke's on me, I'm conscious the people I'd like to keep away from reading this all master English, and even better than me for some of them. (It surely is the case for 27 at least, even though we all know she still won't read this lol). Yes, I never drop names in these sum ups. Or at least, some names are blacklisted. I always chose a number to nominate them they would normally recognize themselves. So, talking about English, I've seen « Emily in Paris » on Netflix. It may surprize you but I'm very interested in dubbing. French dubbing is amazing. For example I bought « Spiderman » on PS4 this year and the french voice is the same voice actor as in the « Amazing Spider-Man » (yes the one with Andrew Garfield). (UNPOPULAR OPINION : Andrew Garfield actually is the best spiderman. Or at least the one I prefer and by far). Emily in Paris is funny because I watched it in English and it kinda disturbed me that it took place in Paris but everybody spoke English. On the other hand, if you watch it in French, langages people are talking become logical (French people speak french) but you'll have to deal with the DEADLY ANNOYING French voice of Emily. And her accent. I think I just watched 1 or 2 episodes like that, I couldn't take more ?. If you have time you should take 5 seconds to listen to what I'm talking about. But it was quite a good show. It was so fun to see these streets I've been visiting for so long in a Netflix show. By the way, I think it's easy to say that I'm missing Paris so much. But not only for the tourism, but most and foremost for the competitions. Before being a tourist I was a competitor there. So, I'm missing Paris but I'm also missing karate competitions. And also just karate. I haven't stepped on a tatami for 3 weeks and it still seems like it won't get better, and we all know why. I'm curious if I could talk about this year without mentioning a very famous virus but I think it's just impossible. But this virus gave me a lot of time in March and April. Maybe less in November tho. I could finally finish The Walking Dead, which last seasons were surprisingly good. And it was so fun to watch the reactions of people on Youtube [#]. Talking about karate competitions, I also watched Cobra Kai ! What an amazing job they did there. Adding more depth to the first movie, it's funny to change perspective and see that the Daniel we were rooting for wasn't that much of a « perfect good guy » we saw (I'm not talking about the kick in the face etc). It's also funny to notice I kinda went fro Daniel to Johnny lol. But having a Netflix show talking about martial arts and value they teach to their students ? It was perfect, even more when you see that some of my students also saw it so when we were training I was refering to it they almost all got it. And it's also funny to see that it's not as Manichean as the 1st movie was. It's a 9/10 for me. If I read the last sum up right, I said : « This year 2020 I really need to watch Kimetsu no yaiba, Jojo, Violet evergarden, Gintama and i have to keep ready 7 deadly sins. » So : Kimetsu no Yaiba was dope. The anime was beautiful and the manga was very entertaining. Not a top tier manga but definitively a good one. Jojo's anime was cool but too long. I stopped after season 2 or 3 I guess ? Violet Evergarden was TRASH (and very bad for a date, if you ask me) and I didn't take time to explore the 2 others. I also saw : Assassination classroom (5/10, i couldn't finish it so i skipped directly to the last episode, was as moving as people said), Validé (8/10, with an insane final episode), No Game No Life (8,5/10, i loved it), Freaks and Geeks (7,5 but i didn't finish it, I really like the old school vibe), Code geass (7/10, great anime and great opening). I finally discovered Community and it was worth it. What a funny show. And what a pleasure to see Mr Donald Glover on screen. Makes me think that I need to watch Atlanta again. The problem with Community is the last seasons broke the 4th wall too much for me, it became painful to watch. But the 3 or 4 seasons are crazy. Another show that was even more funny : IT Crowd. I finally had the chance to see the episode of « I came here to drink milk and kick ass, and I just finished my milk ». This show is a 9,25/10. Grand Army was also a great show of 2020. Dom is an amazing character (but I already said it). Kengan Ashura was also so cool ! I think it's what Baki would have liked to become. This year I also started to watch « American horror Story » again (alone and not alone). These last seasons were awesome. I also converted Elodi to «my hero academia », it was so cool to share that. Other things I saw : SAO S4 (AMAZING, SO BEAUTIFUL), Erased, SNK Last season) ; The Mandalorian, 24's 9th season.« Queen's gambit » have been one of the greatest show I've seen this year. And I really want to say that I played chess before the show came out (add me on Lichess if you want to play with me. Same username. I'm not strong -about 1000 ELO I guess- but I'm always happy to play and learn). If you want a precise idea of my level, on the chess.com app, I can beat Emir 🇹🇷 (1000 ELO) often but I didn't win once against Sven 🇸🇰 (who is ~1100 ELO). I'm so happy talking about all these lengthen the post even more. Kinda satisfying. But I could also talk about Tekken and chess this year. I think I have a thing with dueling sports. I'm a Karate competitor, I love Tekken and I like chess. I guess someone has something to prove haha. But come on, chess is incredible. For the 1st lockdown, I was just playing (not alone) but I wanted to make progress just by practicing. And that's how I got BB 5 or 7 (yes, it means Beat By = my number of loss in a row). But at the end of the 2nd lockdown I finally allowed myself to study a little more, thanks to Youtube (once again). This is SO INTERESTING. Like the strategies, the top players. French content creators are fun but I like american ones more. Eric Rosen is my favourite. He's always calm, he often finds solutions. GothamChess is also very entertaining. You can say by how he talks he has been a teacher. He's great. So, once again on some shonen shit, I started studying more. Mid December, a kid beat me 2 times in a row. He's a smart kid, I like him. He didn't brag or anything. And then, during Christmas Holidays I spent 2 or 3 hours a day watching chess videos. I guess he hasn't been able to beat me since then haha. By the way I should play with him later on today. Playing chess is a way for me to make sure my brain doesn't let me down, like gym for the brain. At least, it's what I thought when I started but I quickly discovered that it's a game of patterns recognizing, so memory is really challenged here. I mean, in the middlegame you have to be smart to get by but at the beginning and ending … you have to know your openings. I have also thought of joining a club but I don't know if chess communities are benevolent. I also noticed that high ranked players seem to have strong personalities. And then for Tekken (yes, 3 years and a half later I'm still on this game) I'm still making progress. In March, someone made me want to play Heihachi. What a funny character. Not top tier, but fun. Leroy Smith is also fun to play. There was no offline tournament but I won one, the 1st organized by Tekken Toulouse and finished 5th at the second. It's funny to live that level of stress straight from my bed. Usually, that kind of stress making my whole body trembling is usually found nearby tatamis of Karate competitons. (Yes, these Tekken tournaments make me stressful and that's the reason I can't play Jin in tournaments). But Eddy is still a sure value. Still progressing in movement, and whiff punishing. Mishimas are getting more consistent on electrics but it's not perfect. By the way, if you love fighting games and Bruce Lee, there's a video you need to see (whoever you are) : [#]. If you're really interested in these topics, you should appreciate this video as much as I did [2:10 PM. I have eaten, but now I have the feeling that I'm late.] Btw I don't skip line to add some « length » effect. Once again I'm sorry if making it until here was painful to read, but I need to make this paragraph the least attractive I can. This line I'm writting is almost on the 3rd page of OpenOffice. And I try to avoid using emojis, so there's just text. Tout dans le fond, pas de forme. Also, congratulations for making it until here, you must be very motivated. I'm writting slowly because it's the 1st time I write this by daytime, and I swear at the begining people were harassing me ahah. It's fun because the sum up of 2019 was so short. Just with its form, you can tell how 2019 have been peaceful. I don't remember if I talked about it already but a disaster could have happened in September/October 2019. But karate kept my mind busy so the worst have been avoided. Time spent on the tatamis kept me away from overthinking about my problems. And that was a good strategy indeed. Because in 2020 it wasn't the same. If we count right. Dojos were opened in January, February, 1st half of march, reopened in September and october, closed on november and opened in December (Mon Dieu quel … CASSE-TEX hahaha merci c'est tout pour moi). It was a weird karate year. Today is the 1 year anniversary of my last competition. During the 1st lockdown, I had litteraly no desire to train. Some of you know why. But let's talk a bit more about COVID and lockdowns. The most important thing is that I didn't spent the 1st lonely. This was the most challenging time of my life, but I can say that I made it thanks to 0808 so I'm eternally grateful for that. So, if we recap months by months : January was a funny month. One thing that I thought a miracle happened (until I found out months later what a real miracle was). I also almost went into a brawl. I guess this weird ass month set the tone for the 11 months to follow. February … was one of the calmest month. I had an awesome dojo session in Balma with 0808 in February. I think there were a lot of beautiful sunsets this month. Guess our weather power was at its peak. These 3 1st months of 2020 had a lot of trainings, even if I was injured due to kumite. March and April are kinda the same for me. I won't talking long about these but I'd simply say that I'm glad that I hadn't to write to 27. So, the Miracle happened by mid April. Mid april to mid may, it was cool. We were at home but … the weather was nice, I was doing sport everyday (but no real karate trainings) and I could keep this rythm of exercising until … Half July, which is good. It's the first time in my life I'm that consistent in doing sports at home. From mid may, I started to train with Coach O. on a weekly basis. It was incredible. These days were still bliss in my mind. I was there, no « real problems » in mind, I wasn't alone, I was making progress physically … It was really great. And from mi may to end of July, it kept getting better.Indeed, I fell in love again in January and it was getting stronger by the months. It's been a while I haven't fell this hard for someone. But she gave it back to me nicely. And then … Mala suerte 3.0. This point of the sum up is funny because I do remember when I talked about mala suerte in the other sum ups. I do realize how it's always the same thing when I write those : « 1st part of the year is cool, then not cool, then cool again but in a weird way because I have insane difficulties to repair broken parts of me » but hey. This time it's not my fault. It makes me realize how cyclic all this is. So, August, September and October have been terrible and chaotic months. A level of sadness rarely reached until there. Maybe comparable to September 2018. A high level of anger also. But still, with rare occasions to train, so no occasions to let go off steam. In fact, let's talk a bit about this anger. I've always took a lot of pride in the fact that I could most of the time remain calm in a lot of situations. Plus, being patient isn't something natural but … I learned to be through the years. I was so surprised to notice how angry I became … It simply wasn't me. But the reason is simple : I really think karate brings me balance in life, on a lot of levels (and it concerns me a lot for when I'll stop competing one day …). But I realized it so I'm working on it. In 2020, I led a lot of fights, sometimes I won and often I lost, but I also avoided a lot of them. One of the reasons I think I'm not ready to be a good partner is first I think I'm too angry. I don't think I could be mean to my partner but … I think I could be annoying to deal with. But mainly, I'm not ready to better myself now. To find the good partner, you need to become a good partner first, and this is precisely what I'm not ready to become. Despite being not perfect, I'm fine that way and I know how far from perfect I'm right now. But nevermind. This is the kind of state of mind you can't afford when you're in a relationship. I'm not saying you need to change to fit your partner's ideals. But if you notice something's wrong in your behaviour/habits and don't want to correct it, you might be a bad partner (but I could be wrong, I'm not a couple therapist lol).

Oh. And that's the moment I can describe my photo to tell the story differently. So this shot was taken precisely on Sunday, 4th of October. 1302 got confirmed so we had to go to the Temple du Salin. I went there with my father and he decided to rock a bowtie so I wanted to match him. It was so fun. That was the first time we stepped in a church after « all these events ». It was a strong moment for me. So, this picture (taken by me, thank you tripod) was taken 4 days after I « took a gamble ». I took a lot of gambles this year. One memorable gamble that lead to beautiful pictures of Toulouse was on August 27th (lol). This was after our breakup. I gave her an adress and an hour, and I hopped she would come. She never came so this was a lost gamble. (So I had a great time watching « Back to the future » outdoors, on a big movie screen, but I was alone). But this time was different. I did suppose she would be at one place on a certain day at the end of September. And I gambled right because she was there. And even if the context was so particular, I can tell we had a great time. I was so ready that I put on my best white shirt, because I knew she kinda liked it. I was there to win her back but I simply failed. Guess the shirt wasn't enough. So it was funny to wear the full suit 4 days later, I was like « Dude, nice effort but it's too late lol» (plus the Temple du Salin is on the other side of the closest bridge from her home) but I still hopped to cross her road on that day. Oh and as we're analyzing this picture, I really like the bokeh on the autmun-colored leaves. I had the luck to have a very sweet light when I took these pictures. And the post processing was really funny. I have a lot of versions of this picture indeed. But all these colors in the background always make me think of a quote I love : « Autumn shows us how beautiful it is to let things go » and this quote is so damn right. I discovered this year that I have difficulties to let things go. The thing is I hate injustice. I hate to see things that litteraly belong to me, things I deserve, simply run away from me. Sometimes I'm telling myself it's just my karma making me pay for all the شيطان I've done in the past. But other times I just try to convince myself to let go. It's been the 2nd most challenging thing this year. These levels of depression have never been reached before. But still, here I am. But not stronger than before. I had this conversation a few weeks ago about « what doesn't kill you makes you stronger ». To support this idea, some people might evoke the principle of « Kintsugi » as an example. But I strongly disagree about the first statement. I'm not a goddamn bowl. I take the example of my lower belly scar : it didn't kill me but it didn't get stronger either. That's the exact opposite indeed. Sometimes it still hurts even though it's been done 12 years ago (the last time it hurt was this night, almost stopping me from finding sleep). It's a personal opinion but what didn't kill me made me weaker. And I'm not just talking about physical injuries. Losing the ability to trust after all these events isn't what I'd call « getting stronger », even though « I didn't do anything wrong ». That's an expensive price. Bref. I think you can overcompensate with something else but the damaged parts may stay weak after. [3:03 PM. So I have about 1 hour to finish it. Easy.] There's one thing I wanted to talk about in this sum up, related to the fact of « being strong ». I read Blach again (you can tell by my december posts) and I started with the lost agent arc, followed by the TYBW arc. There's 2 things about it : its poetry, through the words and the drawings will always amaze me (it amazed me even if it’s the 2nd time I’me reading it), and the 2nd thing : I love how Ichigo become stronger. He lost his Shinigami powers but then found his Fullbring powers. And that is very important because he becomes strong again, but it's a different kind of strong and I LOVE THIS. It's like in real life. I was very strong in June 2012 (videos as proof), but it's not the same strong as in July 2017 or April/November 2018. June and July 2020 have been a different kind of strong. Not that I gained 10 kgs in 2 months (unfortunately) but I was exercising daily. I was getting my body ready for the supposed heavenly month of August that was awaiting me (us). Unfortunately there was no videos of karate at this period (but I made some in september!) but I was feeling great physically. In fact. This May/June/July 2020 period could be considered as “bliss” for me. Of course there was some background problems but ... Mentally I was getting back on my feet, I was deeply in love, physically pretty feeling myself. Plus on the 1st half of July i could go back to the tatamis ... I swear this level of peace and life appreciation have rarely been reached before. Well, this concept of getting stronger differently is almost obsessing me for a simple reason : I'm feeling like I'm getting older. 27 is a weird age for competing in karate. If I look back, I realize I'm older than William when he stopped (it's his birthday tomorrow!!). Also older than Zak, Teddy and so on. I guess I'll never be physically like 10 or 5 years ago but I'm really asking myself if I can be better. But as seen as the pains I go through after the trainings … It's going to be complicated. Plus I did my body wrong this year. There was pain in mars, april, august, september, october, november and december. I tried a lot of things to make it go. I tried to smoke it, i tried to sleep it, i tried to drink it also. I tried to fuck it of course but none of these things worked. But can we consider I won if only my cock still works ? Compared to 2018 : yes it is a win. And at least when I'm with someone, that makes less time crying and overthinking shit. Anyway, I also tried to smoke it really hard. And that's an habit I'll have trouble to let go but nvmd. Still, one of my 2021 resolutions is to smoke less. Also, I took a funny resolution that is : « I'm not accepting defeat this year ». And I realized only a few days after taking it how hard it will be. I'm not dumb, when defeat is unavoidable, I'll just take it. But I decided to be a real Scorpio and be more stubborn than ever. We can say it's above all pride. Same pride as Vegeta, Bakugo or even Endeavour. Really touched me when Bakugo talked about « Absolute victory ». Sometimes I find myself too soft. I'm not going to become an awful person (or at least, not more awful than I am right now). I'll still be kind … But I'll go get the victories I deserve a little harder. Talking about my age, I'm a bit deceived I have no close old friends to share the memories. Every one is kinda gone. Sometimes it's my fault, and sometimes it's just people who are shit but life's like this. Also, every year I try to think of my best encounter of the year. It's kinda hard because sometimes, you meet someone a few years earlier but you really get to know each other later etc … So I'm not clear if this should count only people met this year or simply the people I've spent the best times with. Because I received a curious message this summer and my God. What a luck she took the chance to write me. We realized a few days ago we were in the same class in 10th grade (2nde) (we saw the class picture, what a laughter we had). We get along so well. And it's the proof that 2nd chances deserve to be given. I swear that I also lost some important people this year. But I'm not fighting to get people back anymore. I've done it too much and I'm simply done. People need to realize it's a luck to be in my life. I have my ways but you'll hardly find a friend that's patient and kind as I am. But nevermind, it always makes more time and attention for the people who are here, who really care for my hapiness. Focusing on the people who are here was one of the main concern this year, for a lot of reasons. I thought I was good for selecting the good people in my life but looks like I still can improve. So I'm still letting people go off my life. [3:36PM. Guess I said mostly what I had to say. Maybe 5 pages is enough, but maybe not.] Oh I can still tell the rest of the year. November have been one peaceful month. Away from all the obsessions. Focused on me. No karate but still courses by videoconference. The weather was very sweet even tho it was November. This second lockdown was not that funny but we've seen worst. And December … had it's ups and downs. It was cool to meet my kids 1 month after all these video courses. They clearly got stronger, it was cool. I could also talk about my experience as a sensei this year because there's a lot to say. At the beginning of February, it was my last competition but also for my kids. We litteraly took the competition by storm. On était TROP CHAUDS. But then the Covid stopped us. We kinda were ready for Occitanie championship, if you forget that I was sick the week before the competition. I'd have loved so much to see how far their training would have taken them on this competition. But thank God they cancelled it, guess He didn't want to see me lose ahah. So, I've seen a lot of kids getting better. What a pleasure. Later on this year I told them that I wanted to see them become stronger than me. Seems cliché, but I'm happy they took it seriously. Of course I'm dead serious. We also talked about I will be waiting for them in Senior. Hope they'll continue until then. And above all I hope I will still be competing. I really want to have a positive impact on these kids, competitors or not. And I guess it's working. (Btw I'll surely do a post about Whitebeard soon, just to show him love). So. What lessons can we draw from this chaotic year ? Always treat your high school comrades well. Be picky about who you let in your life. Before engaging in a relationship, ask why her previous relationship ended. Trust no B. (And BBW's are heaven sent). Now it's 3:50PM and I guess I'm done. But I keep myself the possibility to add things if I think of things to add. It's 6 pages long (Arial, 12) but if I can make it longer I will.

[Friday. 00:55AM] Edit : Ok. The story is funny. I really wanted to finish that in one day. So I wrote the previous lines between 10 AM and 4 PM Wednesday knowing I would need more time, just to check and to add a few more details. And one of those Lonely Wednesday Night would have been perfect just to finish the job. So I planned to finish it on wednesday night but the fact is I forgot my computer home …. So here I am one day later. Still baked, so still in the right state of mind to do it. It gave me time to proofread myself (?) and most importantly, it gave me time to read again some of my previous sum ups. It was interesting to compare how they're all different, and also how my writting evolved. Tbh I think I'm becoming more comfortable with my English. Or maybe the more I express myself, the more I look at ease with the langage. This sum up is the longest I've ever written. But still, I'll add things because I still haven't told everything. For example, I haven't spoken about the fact that all the Kazamastar adventure might be closer to the end than the beginning. Like, I'm not immediatly done with all that. I'm still having a lot of fun here. Anon visitors are also part of the game, but it's still all fun. It also keeps my « photograph eye » opened. This makes me think of the quote «I want to be so awfully happy that I never need to write poetry again. » [#] and more precisely I'm thinking about : do I post more when I'm happy or sad ? But I noticed this tumblr kinda works like therapy for me. (And especially, this post is a therapy by itself. Wednesday I woke up feeling bad, lower belly aching and making this post really helped me going through the day.) I post a lot when I'm sad but it really allows me to get all of these negative feelings out of me. I do stylize things but I know I'm not a poet or anything. But can you imagine being so happy that you don't write again ? Would be an amazing feeling. (Indeed, I've already done it once [#]. I've ended a blog on a perfect happiness and yes it felt amazing. ) Imagine if I do it here. After all the trials and tribulations I went through, it would be a perfect way to finish this tumblr. But as I'm speaking, I think there's like … less than 5% chance that it ends happily. If it does, it could be in a long time. I have a few ideas of when and how it could end, but Imma have to keep these selfishly for myself. You'll see when we'll get there.:) Also, I'm realizing right now the things I'm adding to the text make the timestamps through the text a bit less accurate but that's just a detail. [2:37 AM] Earlier I talked about this blog being a therapy for me. But it’s not only this tumblr. This year I proudly finished another tumblr (yes you can guess I was proud as I posted about that 17325 times already and pinned a post). This was such a relief to end it after letting it still for litteraly 2 years. Well that’s it for tonight !

No transition : let's go for the explanations of my choices for the playlist followed by the playlist itself. It's kinda easy to understand why « la mienne » is here, for the first month. This “I can’t touch you I’m not allowed to” really made me think of someone and this someone came back. Incredible. The next song with a Boogie is perfect for February. Very peaceful month, really full of very good moments (in the backseat of a certain car for example). The 2 next songs are for March. These are kinda « lockdown anthems » as The Weeknd album came out right at that time and so did Laylow's. Plus « Escape from LA » have the vibe I really love from Abel. 2 next songs are for April. Dsvn really smashed when he put that « A muse in her feelings » album. (and the « Amusing her feelings » is even better but that won't happen before January 2021). The sequence between « Outlandish – Keep it going - flawless » was one of the best thing I heard musically this year. But keep it going is insane. « Meilleurs » from Oboy is … special. And so are the 2 following songs. Meilleurs is now blacklisted but it's still one good song. But I can't listen to it anymore. Maybe that's exactly because it reminds me June and July. Count me in reminds me precisely of August 8th. Btw what a funny day, very far from all expectations we built up through the years (let's remind that the countdown started with more that 400 days, but I guess patience and loyalty is not always rewarded). I might digress from the playlist one second, but on this day we were in Treilles with the guys, and thank God I had them in this moment ... That’s when I drank to heal, with “count on me” for soundtrack. For September, I hesitated between « DEUX TOILES DE MER » or « MEVTR » (which means « Meilleur d'Entre Vous Tous Reunis », the 1st stage name of Damso). Damso’s flow on MEVTR is huge. He makes a whole verse rhyme and on but … 2 toiles is more iconic. Talking about iconic, « Bande organisée » wasn't a masterpiece but a force to be reckoned with (i find this expression funny ahah). I mean, in hip hop nowadays we don't see often rappers teaming up with big groups like that. Plus on this song particularly some of them have interesing flows and a lot of energy. And you can tell it comes from the South. Not of them are goods, some are excellent but this makes a very decent track. « Route 66 » was cool, even tough it's for November (so 2nd lockdown) it gave me really lovely vibes. And I take this occasion talking about November 2020 to remind it was the 10th anniversary of Kanye West's MBDTF and I celebrated it the right way héhé. Finally, this featuring is really ending the year well. Dinos dropped an insane album, his best since a long time and Tayc also (respectively « Stamina, » and « Fleur froide »). So having them on the same track was risky but it paid very well, incredible vibe from those two combined. They could have been in the top 3 albums but some people made better than them. Trinity is my top 1 one 2020. The concept, the musics … it was INSANE. QALF was also great. It's insane to see Damso get rid of « artistic barriers » to focus only on sound and music. No communication etc … Just music. And Eternal Atake from Lil Uzi Vert because it was long awaited but also because it was perfect, also a 1st lockdown album so it helped me forget my loneliness but so much good tracks ! And finally we have the very special songs that I coudn't tell why I like them. I just love their vibes. So now is 4:15 PM and I'm offically finished but I still have to tweak it. Know I won't hesitate to add things that are related to 2020 and that come to my mind :) Thanks for reading me. Have a lovely day, or night.

2020 Playlist

Tayc – La mienne (Accoustic)

A Boogie – Reply feat Lil Uzi Vert

The Weeknd – Escape for LA

Laylow – Nakré

dvsn – Keep it goin ✨

PartyNextDoor – Believe it feat Rihanna

Trippie Redd & Russ – The Way

OBOY - Meilleurs

Kehlani - Serial Lover

Juice WRLD & Marshmello - Come and go

THEY. - Count me in

Damso - Deux toiles de mer

13 Organisé - Bande organisée

Joe Dwet File - Route 66

Dinos & Tayc - Je wanda

Spécial : Lil Tecca - Last Call YNW Melly - City girls

Jessame - Times we had ~ Dennis Lloyd - Never go back ~ Elliot Trent - computer love

3 top albums de 2020 :

Trinity de Laylow - Qalf de Damso - Eternal atake de Lil Uzi vert

#sum up #resume #welcome to #welcome to 2021 #2020 #me #myself #i

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atelophobicity · 4 years

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Top 10 Things You Shouldn’t Do If You Want to Finish Your Thesis On Time

It’s my entry for September! I’ve been busy in consuming new music, films, and kvariety episodes in my effort to catch up on everything. So, I decided to post monthly to fulfill my oversharing Tumblr needs and to exercise my skills in writing in English and putting thoughts into coherent words.

TL;DR of this: things I’ve done instead of doing my thesis for the past year and a half. I’m not romanticizing my not doing thesis self for the past 21 months, but I’m also not dissuading you from doing other stuff besides thesis because god knows, you will need something.

1. Got a part-time job. This was the first new thing I’ve done that really took my time and effectively gave me no time to do thesis. And yet, this was the most rewarding thing as I learned how to get my TIN, accomplish my deliverables, answer to my superiors etc. Looking back, I wasn’t the best employee and I deserved no job offers on the same company after. But still, it was a stepping stone in the right direction. Adulting-wise, anyway.

2. Discover the art of creating.

Journal spreads. I bought a 2019 planner and I couldn’t fill it up, so I decided to turn it into a journal-planner. The art materials I used for to design pages are from old supplies bought back when I was in high school or stickers from the fandom-related events I attended. I didn’t spend money and I was given a chance to be creative.

Sew doll clothes. In K-pop, dolls that look like your idol exists. It usually comes with one set of clothes to dress it. As a “doll mother”, I wanted to dress them with new clothes but buying clothes was expensive. So, I just sewed clothes for them. I made clothes from scrap fabrics or clothes no one wears in our household. I’ve been barely successful, but it’s one of the things that keep me happy and make me feel like I’ve succeeded in one measly part of my life.

3. Purged my online files.

From my high school files. Nostalgia has been one of my coping mechanisms. I was able to be provided by lots of it when I discovered that I didn’t lose my high school files and it was on my mom’s laptop all along. Being able to relive memories while organizing my files was the best hours of that day.

To my external hard drives. Since 2016, I have been a hoarder of online files for so long that I have two EHDs to prove it. This time though, I was able to delete content that was either repetitive or uninteresting anymore. I was able to shave off some of my data bytes and am now able to save new interesting content available online (if I ever find one).

4. Realigned my priorities and consumption of K-pop as a stan and as a person by:

Selling 3/4 of my merch. Unlearning the pride that comes with owning K-pop merch was difficult, but overtime, I have been proud of myself for not falling to the traps of capitalism—at least in K-pop. Also! I was able to buy my own concert tickets with the stuff I sold so it is a win!

Joining giveaways instead. No matter how I can avoid the urge to buy K-pop merch, I still can’t help but want to own them. This is where I discovered how joining giveaways was my next best option. It takes a lot of effort and screenshots to win these things. However, if and when you win, it really feels like winning against the odds. You get free merch too!

Actually spent hours to vote and stream. In relation to the last point, since the main requirement in giveaways I’ve joined are voting/streaming proofs, I have been one of those people who collects points on voting apps or has a playlist of music videos that should be streamed. After collecting and/or streaming, I take screenshots, put watermarks there, and tags mutuals if needed. It’s relatively hard work but there’s a feeling of pride when your idol wins the poll or an MV reaches a certain amount of views and you know you participated in making that happen.

5. Rediscover Youtube. Channels like the vlogbrothers and their associates (Crash Course, Pemberley Digital among others), Buzzfeed’s shows (The Try Guys, Ladylike, Buzzfeed Unsolved) were a delight to watch after being out of the Youtube loop for so long. The platform also offered new niches of content and I allowed myself to be sucked in it. From Simply Nailogical to Ask A Mortician to amazing pop culture video essays like Lindsay Ellis and Jenny Nicholson, Youtube has all it for you! Learning something new every day is one of my favorite things and I get to do it with this website.

6. Rediscover my love of writing. (As if I’ve written anything for my thesis but here.)

Made drabbles. There is a weekly activity on my fandom where we write < 500 word drabbles on any pairings. I have been joining when I can, and through the support of the (small) community (back then), I gained confidence to write one. I’ve written at least four now and I’ve not done yet because I’ve been on a slump lately. But I’ll get back to it soon!

Short story. The same account that brought the drabble challenge created a festival where we write a pairing and write a short story with it. I decided to join the event! Not going to lie, my entry was shit, It was the first draft, it needed a lot of revisions and more constructive criticism and yet, I am still proud of it. It was the first creative fiction I wrote since 2019 and I did it in a day. And, I believe it has potential, so I’m going to review and revise the hell out of it someday.

7. Reclaim my college days.

Reconnected with orgmates. Visiting Elbi for registration and consultation purposes are brightened up by the fact that I get to do this. My first four years of college were not kind to me. I’ve forgotten a lot of things because of trauma and deep sadness that I still have until this day, and when I remember good things, they’re few and far in between. The numbered days I was in Elbi during 2019 were also few and far in between, but they were infinitely better than my academic years from 2015 to 2017. I was able to do the things I wasn’t able to do before (mostly attending Happy Ts and eating in newly-opened food places there) and I get to do it with people I love.

Made friends. One of the drawbacks of being a slot-driven student with no care of my coursemates’ schedules: I didn’t get to establish a friend group. So I didn’t get to make friends. During this time, I’ve accepted that I didn’t have any friends outside my organizations. But this time, instead of a feeling of dread of being that cliché orgmate, I feel relief and happiness because now, I realize that I do have friends from college, unlike the 2015-2017 who didn’t have anyone in college to rely on her darkest times.

8. Appreciated my friends more. For the past few years, I was the shitty friend. I agreed to go on hangouts only to message them that I’m backing out the last minute—sometimes I even straight up ghosted them. I really took my friends for granted. I have been slowly making it up to them by always attending when there’s an invite! I sometimes initiate the invite and it’s always a fun and healing time for me (it was a literal healing time for me as I was depressed during that time). I love them and I’m always thankful for them—and more so now than before.

9. Unlearning things like:

Realizing that a priv (a private account meant to be seen by your mutuals you trust; usually contains unpopular opinions and hot takes on stan twitter) only encourages negative emotions and I must not do it again.

No matter how I tried rationalizing my hate for Jennie when the JenKai dating news happened, I was one of those K-pop stans who hated her because she dated my idol. (I have moved on past that and have started liking her and Rose.)

Knowing that attacking people for what they say won’t make them unlearn their wrong opinions. Not talking down at them and educating with patience is the key, always.

There are still so much more I unlearned and learned where those came from. My main takeaway is: it’s complicated. Sometimes our opinion needs a more nuanced perspective and sometimes it needs to scrapped entirely because it was just wrong. But it is essential so we, as people, won’t be stuck with outdated views of the world.

10. Learning something new like:

Practicing how to do Tzuyu’s helicopter hands until I realized it wasn’t meant for me.

Utilizing Omegle to look for potential quaranflings.

Installing Telegram and uninstalling to ghost quaranflings.

How to do laundry in compliance with my mother’s preferences.

Doing two things at once.

Enough patience to take time and read the laws our government makes every day to know what I’m fighting against.

Optimizing my Twitter lists and now I can keep up with current affairs (that takes a toll on my mental health) then scroll through a fic fest-centric list the next (that helps me forget the stress from reading news).

Learning something new every day has become one of my life goals. Knowing that the world always has something new to offer to me, a speck in this universe, warms me up and keeps me going. And you’ll never know where the new tidbits will lead you. Maybe it’ll help you reconnect with something you’ve known before, maybe it’ll change how you see things, or maybe it’s something new that once explored, it will contribute something new to the community. It may seem small and unimportant but with a tweak in perspective, it might be something worth doing and pursuing.

Looking back at my list, I can finally see how if I didn’t do all these things, I would have probably finished my thesis by now and probably working a full-time job, able to provide the financial needs for my family. There will always be regret that I am still not done until now. But stressing over my current predicament in this time when the world is in its most stressful state yet won’t help me. So, we soldier on and hopefully, hopefully get back to the thesis I’ve been meaning to do.

Let’s get it.

#2020 diary

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thatfanficstuff · 5 years

Text

The Light in my Darkness - 9

Pairing: Clint x Reader

Warning: nope

****

By the time Friday came, all of your furniture had been delivered and set up. You were even mostly unpacked, though that wasn’t much of a feat considering most of your belongings were art supplies. You’d even found time to pick up the books and supplies you’d need for the semester. And, as you predicted, Clint gave you entirely too much money.

It was midafternoon when someone buzzed to be let in. “Yeah.”

“It’s me,” came Wanda’s chipper voice.

You grinned and let her in. You already had the front door open before she arrived, arms heavy with bags and packages. “Holy crap, Wanda. Are you moving in or what?” you joked as you unburdened her of some of the load.

“I come bearing gifts,” she announced as she dropped the rest of the things on your sofa. “And to help you get ready for your date.”

Your face heated. “It’s not a date.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Then I’m here to help you get ready for your not date.”

You sat the things in your hands on the table and shut and locked the front door. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but you aren’t exactly what I was expecting when Clint said he would send me a dress.”

“I volunteered so I could help with your hair and makeup. Besides, I’m having fun tormenting him. He keeps waiting for me to yell at him for dating you. The more accepting and nicer I am about things, the more paranoid he gets. It’s amazing.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m still not trusting it entirely myself.”

“I have my reasons, thank you. Now, look at the dress.” She thrust a box in your direction.

After taking it from her, you sat it on the counter in the kitchen to open it. You tossed the lid to the side and peeled back the tissue paper to reveal a stunning royal blue dress. When you pulled it out to hold it up, you were surprised at the weight though that was undoubtedly due to the beads on the bodice. It certainly wasn’t from the light, airy fabric that made up the layered skirt. “It’s beautiful.”

Wanda nodded. “And there are matching shoes and a clutch. There’s even jewelry around here somewhere.” She glanced around at the boxes.

You frowned and tucked the dress back into the box. “This is a lot.”

She tilted her head and looked you over. “If it makes you feel any better, he probably had the personal shopper at the store pick out everything. That’s what he usually does.”

It did make you feel better, but also a little disappointed. You sighed. What the hell was wrong with you? “I’ll order pizza. You want the usual?”

She nodded and began hauling everything back to your bedroom.

***

Clint glanced at the time and tapped his fingers on his desk before checking his phone for the third time in ten minutes. He had expected to hear from you after the dress and things were delivered. He was worried you wouldn’t like it. He hadn’t given you enough time to find something else if you didn’t.

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t even be caring. Normally, he wouldn’t. Of course, he also normally didn’t tell the shopper what color of dress he wanted or take the time to pick out the jewels himself. He’d only done it because he didn’t want Wanda thinking he didn’t care about you. She’d seemed pleased so maybe it worked.

Or maybe she was just waiting until his guard was down to tell him he was a dirty old man for lusting after her best friend. It was a conversation he tried to have with himself more than once, but it wasn’t working. The chemistry between the two of you was too intense for him to care. He shifted in his seat as he remembered the last time he’d seen you. Work had kept him busy the last couple of days, though the two of you had still managed to text often.

Finally unable to take the suspense any longer, he sent you a text. Does everything meet expectations?

You responded almost immediately. It’s Wanda. I took her phone. She kept wanting to send you pictures.

He chuckled. And?

No pictures. She says everything is lovely and thank you.

That didn’t sound like you at all. He pursed his lips and wondered what his daughter was up to. Really?

No she says you spent too much. Must go.

Now, that sounded like you. His mouth twisted into a smirk as he imagined how flustered you’d been when you saw everything he’d sent. A glance at the clock had him wondering if you’d even seen the jewelry yet. Knowing Wanda, she’d keep it tucked away until you were ready to walk out the door.

***

“Well,” you asked as you spun for Wanda to take in the entire ensemble. She had managed to make your hair look like you’d spent tons at a salon and made your makeup look dramatic but subtle at the same time. She had a far more deft hand than you’d ever had.

She beamed and you couldn’t help but smile in return. “One more thing.” When she came over, she had a velvet box in her hands. She flipped it open and you gasped.

“Those aren’t real.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact. Because if they were real, there was absolutely no way you could wear them. Not only would it mean Clint had spent entirely too much money on you, but you would need an armed guard to make you feel comfortable in public.

Wanda frowned at them then looked back to you. “They aren’t? Because I’m fairly certain they are.”

You shook your head and took a step back.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped and you immediately stopped moving. Wanda could be scary when she wanted to be. She handed you the box and your hands trembled as you took it from her. “Now, put them on or I will put them on for you.”

You took a deep breath and gave her a nod of compliance. The necklace was an intricate design of diamonds and sapphires. The clear stones formed a vine of leaves that wrapped around your neck dotted with sapphire flowers. The earrings were simple sapphire teardrops. You looked at yourself in the mirror after you’d put them on and your fingers ran across the necklace. It was far more delicate than it had any right to be considering the amount of stones it contained. It was stunning.

That anyone thought you worthy of such a thing had tears coming to your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Wanda scolded behind you. “You will ruin your face.”

You laughed and wiped away the moisture before it could destroy her hard work. Just as you finished, there was a buzz. Your ride had arrived. Wanda buzzed back and let them know you would be right down.

“Come,” she said as she handed you the clutch that contained only your phone, keys and lipstick. After one last look in the mirror, you followed her out. You took the elevator, not caring to risk your neck by taking the stairs in your heels.

Wanda gave you a hug before heading to her car. Your gaze trailed her until she was safely inside and you turned to the car that was waiting for you. Scott grinned at you when you met his gaze. “You look great, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” A glance inside the car showed it to be empty. “Where’s Clint?”

“He’ll meet you at the venue. One of the company drivers is taking him. He had some work to finish up.”

You nodded and slid into the car, Scott helping you make sure all of your dress was tucked inside with you. A little lump of disappointment settled in the middle of your chest and you did your best to brush it aside. That’s not what this was. You knew that. It was a business arrangement. It was a mantra you needed to learn to repeat often.

You scrolled through your phone, reading over the texts between Wanda and Clint. You smiled then started typing one of your own.

***

Clint ran his hands down the front of his tux making sure everything was in place then straightened his bowtie. He had intended to meet you at your door, but a last minute contract issue had come across his desk that couldn’t wait until Monday. He preferred not to work weekends if it could be avoided.

A knock sounded on his door. “Yeah.”

It swung open to reveal Natasha. She smirked as she looked him over. “Looking sharp as always, Clint.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell me again why I let you out of this event?”

“Because I send the RSVPs and I didn’t want to go. Besides, you’ve got your new girlfriend to accompany you. You’ll be fine.” Nat used to love to go to things with him. The two of them would hole up somewhere in a corner together and laugh away the night. Lately she’d been attending fewer and fewer.

He blamed Bucky. They’d known each other for years but had only recently started dating. Bucky didn’t do well around people he didn’t know and she was perfectly happy to just stay home with him. As long as she was happy, Clint tried not to complain.

“I actually have a purpose here besides ogling you in your tux. Did you rework the Johnson contract?”

He scowled. Johnson was a long time client who wanted to renegotiate his normal contract at the last minute. He had even threatened to take his business elsewhere if Hawkeye didn’t comply. Where he thought he was going to get merchandise of a comparable quality at the prices they offered, Clint had no idea. “It’s done and sent. I didn’t give him anything he wanted though I did compromise a bit. He either signs it or he doesn’t. I don’t like bullies.”

Nat nodded. “Perfect. That’s all I needed. Have a nice time on your date,” she said with a smirk and a little wave.

He wasn’t even going to bother to take the time to correct her. She only said shit like that to get under his skin. As he walked out of his office, his phone buzzed to let him know he had a text. He pulled it out and smiled when he saw it was from you. This really is too much.

He chuckled as he stepped onto the elevator. You’re welcome, he sent back.

Thank you, Clint.

He could almost feel your eyeroll through the screen. A glance at the time told him that you were already on your way to the venue. He didn’t like that you were going to have to mingle on your own for a bit, but he certainly wasn’t going to make you wait for him before you went in. He typed out a quick text letting you know he had gotten caught up and not to wait for him.

Your one letter response didn’t do much to convince him you would be fine until he got there. Rather than relaying all his fears to you, he slid his phone back into his pocket. He tapped his fingers on his thighs in an effort to keep from pulling it back out. This was fine. You’d be fine. You were too smart to say something you shouldn’t just because he wasn’t around. He’d also seen you shoot down more than one asshole that came on too strong so he knew you could take care of yourself.

It was almost forty-five minutes later before he arrived and a good half hour since Scott had let him know you’d been dropped off safely. Damn it. He straightened his jacket after he climbed out of the back then hurried up the stairs. Once he was inside, his eyes immediately scanned the crowd searching for you. It didn’t take long for his attention to be caught by the vibrant blue of your dress.

His heart sped and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. You were talking to some people he vaguely recognized, your head tilted back as you laughed. God, you looked amazing. He ran his eyes over you again, taking in every inch of exposed skin. The jewels he’d bought you sparkled in the light but they didn’t even come close to holding his attention the way that you did.

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip as he took the opportunity to just watch you for another moment or two.

“I see you’ve spotted her as well,” came a voice from beside him, interrupting him from his litany of impure thoughts.

He glanced over to find Tony Stark standing beside him, offering him a glass of something. Clint took it and turned back to his previous view. He made a sound of agreement but didn’t offer anything more where you were concerned. He sipped at his drink, enjoying the burn that distracted him from some of his more scandalous lines of thought.

“I don’t think I’ve seen her around before and I certainly would have made note of her,” Tony continued.

Clint clenched his teeth together briefly. He darted his gaze quickly to the man beside him before focusing on you once more. “What about Pepper?”

Tony shrugged. “What about her? Just because we’re engaged doesn’t mean I’m dead. I can still look and appreciate you know. And that one is stunning.”

Clint placed his now empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter and fixed his coat once more. “That she is. She’s also mine.” He headed in your direction without registering Tony’s reaction to his announcement.

When he reached you, he placed one hand on your hip and pulled you against his side. You were even more beautiful up close. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You are breathtaking, Y/N.”

You glanced over at him, a radiant smile on your face. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Barton.”

#clint barton x reader #clint barton x you #clint barton sugar daddy #sugar daddy au #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye x you #series #the light in my darkness #avengers fanfiction #clint barton fanfiction

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marriael · 5 years

Text

1 Year Blogiversary

So. Hello people. Since 100 followers is still far away for me this was just me taking a chance to appreciate mutual, let me have this.

All of these could be started with we've never talked/we haven't talked much so. Ehe. That one’s on me folks.

This is just a big, dumb, sappy post that I wouldn't recommend reading tbh.

Thank you to everyone who follows me, no matter for how long. It must get exhausting to see my dumb ass so often.

@wydyuto You were my first follower! When you first followed me it gave me so much confidence to keep going and making moodboards. Thank you so much!

@igot7-penta-seo You've been dming me all these posts and I feel bad since I never send anything back. One day I will, I promise! It feels so long ago but I just remember reading all your pentagon stuff when I was getting into them and loving your writing and them even more.

@mrchoiholic Alright since I’m dumb and don’t know when we became mutuals I’m putting you here. I remember my first interaction with you (technically) was I requested a Hoshi fic and then reblogged it because the title was incredible. Then I was Tea anon for a while, which was a good time. You’ve always given me caring older sister vibes even if you’re my ‘mom’.

@cxvert-edits Oh my goodness hello! So I deleted my insta app. Since you’re mostly on there and I’m mostly on here we don’t really see each other much :(.It took me far too long to realize but I kind of sounded like an ass in our my last dm’s on here so. Very sorry about that, I didn’t really realize how my words sounded at the time. Honestly you were among my first inspirations for moodboards.

@ladyluck852 Hey bub! I haven’t seen you around much but I hope you’re doing well. You’ve seen a lot of my blog and I hope you’re here for a lot longer.

@mixtapejoon It seems like you started @/chulobangtan again so I think you’ll see this. I love reading all your stuff and since it seems like you enjoy writing so much I really hope you get the chance to again. With all the crap that went on with that guy and your school I hope you’re doing better now.

@peachy-bangchan I feel like I don't talk to or about you enough which is an issue I must remedy immediately. I didn't know how popular you were when you followed me so I didn't properly lose my shit. You've really been here for a long time and never once have you stopped supporting me. Thank you, I appreciate that more than I could ever put into words.

@luvhannie Moodboard queen Anna! You’ve given me so much inspiration for moodboards. Motivation, too. I remember when you said you liked my moodboard, I felt amazing for like a week.

@queerjunhui I just remember being so intimidated by you (still am lol) because you were friends with so many cool people. I think I sent you an anon once as Emotional anon? Maybe that was a dream or something. I started a conversation with you once and I’m pretty sure that was before we became mutuals, interesting.

@middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich Your URL will always be a mood lol. A lot of your more recent stuff has been Monsta X and non-kpop related but you still follow all my weird bullshit.

@stray-kids-stuff My first official stay mutual! You’re such a darling and I’m glad I found your blog and that discord. I hope you’re doing at least a little better now.

@han-jxsungs I clowned myself as ao3 anon that was fun lmao. OMG I just looked and ROSE HELLO MY DARLING ANGEL. If you didn’t get my last ask, just now it was super sappy and gross. I’m glad you’re back but if it gets too much again, don’t hesitate to leave.

@gryffindor925 lmao hey Aaykta what’s up. I don’t think you use tumblr because wow you must be tired of all this kpop shit. I forget you follow me most of the time. If you ever thought I was curbing my tags to seem less weird at some point it was because I see her in real life and thought that me freaking out about this stuff was super weird. I actually had a dream last night I found your secret kpop blog.

@finn-shitposts I honestly didn’t connect this blog and your art one until after you were revealed because I’m dumb. You seriously made the most amazing thing. Pun + Jilix, gah that was seriously amazing, and when I think about it I smile.

@pikachulein Even though I had several very popular blogs follow me before you were the first one I seriously like, panicked about. I have an official offer for you. Feel free to decline because time zones are crap but french learning buddies?

@ult-bee So we met in a discord server but I feel like I left it? I honestly couldn’t tell you what server it was though. Sorry, boo. Love you though <3

@dreamsevens You made the cutest Junhao drawing ever. You were such a sweet lil anonnie, too. We haven’t really interacted but I see you, boo.

@jihan You’re both such lil sweeties! Honestly just a wholesome jihan blog, would recommend. Loved being an anon even if it was just a little while.

@nerdynerdynerdy Iyoniiiiiiiii! You’re just the sweetest lil babe and I feel like I need to protect you.

@visualgiggles I don’t know how I didn’t see you before we were platonically shipped, but I didn’t. I’m really glad that happened though, and that I had my brief anon stint.

@3rachad Clowned the hell out of myself and revealed as CB anon (who I still am because I’m cowardly and dumb). Love the new hair cut bb.

@0hyja Ya seem super cool but also. You called Park Jisung rat boy and I don't know if I can truly forgive you for that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ jkjkjk. I just feel like you don’t like me. One day I’ll get over that and send some asks or something.

@nanjaemin I always forget you’re younger than me because you talk exactly the same as the other people on here. You baby. Love you darling, don’t let those give you shit.

@ethereal-lix I so often go to send you ask games and then forget entirely. I will make a better effort to interact with you!

@soulclub My first aroha mutual! I really like seeing all your edits and thank you for co-creating the idea of Aroha Village! I’m trying to write a kind of tour thing for it but it’s not great so. This is embarrassing but you and Bex kind of meld together. I don’t know what it is but the best reason I have is my terrible memory.

@cherry-seungmin My stay host(?)! Wow going to your blog is such an explosion of happiness and Seungmin I love that. It felt like ages ago we were freaking out about Miroh teasers but it was actually March.

@ultkyu You were my lil stay anon! I feel bad that I haven’t made anything for 99kdh. It might take me a little longer yet but I will do it.

@uwujpgs Heeeeeey Bex. I don’t really know what to say :(. Actually. This is embarrassing but sometimes you and Rae just meld together. I don’t know why and then when I get you mixed up I feel bad. But yeah. Stay safe and know I’m figuratively sending you nice candles.

@jinniesmeow I’ll be honest I thought you didn’t like me at first. It sounds dumb but after I joined skzrequests you didn’t follow me so I was just like ‘:} ok.’ I want to honestly apologize because I was kind of ignoring you in the kakao chat. I don't have a reason/excuse for that. An official question for you as well. Feel free to decline because time zones suck but be my unofficial french teacher?

@staytion-nine Pitchfork anon! I have no idea where the anon name came from. I was pretty surprised when I saw the post about you getting a tumblr. Overall you’re just a little dol and I hope to know you better.

@kimwoojin-s I thought I was going to cry when you followed me istg. I’ll talk in the TGS chat. One day, eventually. Take care of yourself and try not to burn out lovely.

@bbywooyoungie We have interacted exactly 0 times (i’ll send an ask soon, promise). Scrolling down your blog I now notice we have mutual mutuals. I don’t understand how I didn’t see that before, but ok brain sure.

@re-biirthday Anyone who organizes an anon event is automatically a sweetheart in my book, so there you are. I really liked that sketch you posted today and I hope you’re doing well sweets.

@xiaocity I saw you in others ask boxes for a loooooooong time but only followed you recently for some reason. Yeah, you just seem super dope and I’m glad we have something in common. Even if it is finding our bias intimidating lol.

@luvjisungs I’ve only seen you around recently but you are an absolute darling. Thank you so much for helping me out that night, I really needed it.

#i feel bad that a lot of these are so short #i just wanted to include everyone #ugh i reread some of these and they're disjointed as fuck #but idk how to fix them #i'm sososososo afraid i messed up somebody's name or something #uuuuuuuuuuuugh posting and then closing tumblr and running away looool #mutuals 🌠

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