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jeonqkooks · 1 year

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our beloved summer (05) | jjk

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, crying, Sad Boy JK Hours ??, valentino!yoongi bc that should be a whole warning 🥵 even though he's there and not really there for literally 2 seconds lol

rating: PG-15

word count: 9.5k

note: this is the most stressed out i've ever been while trying to post a fic 💀 argh anyway, 2 obs updates in one month ?? is this even real life !! consider this a (lunar) new year's present from me to everyone who celebrates it and also to everyone who doesn't !! idk i'm bad at notes and i'm delirious so that's it 😗

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Hey, I feel like if we gave it one night You'd hate me less and make it alright Just wish that we could fight now I'd hold you on the comedown

Rockland - Gracie Abrams

One thing about you, is that you don’t do well with change.

After you moved out of the first apartment you got as an adult, you constantly went back to your old neighborhood even though it wasn’t close to your new place. You kept walking those familiar streets, kept shopping at the stores where the workers knew your name. At night, you still pictured yourself living there, with all of your furniture and clothes and decorations that you’ve already emptied from those old bones. Then, you imagined what the new tenant was like, if they could feel the lingering love you had for that apartment. You wondered if they were putting the coffee table you left behind to good use, or if they thought that it looked out of place among all of their belongings and had already thrown it away.

Jimin called you weird for that, but he didn’t know that you always leave a piece of yourself everywhere you go. The biggest pieces, you think, are hidden somewhere in a closet in your childhood bedroom where your mother still lives, and in the tiny space of your dorm room where you spent most of your college years.

It took you more than half a year to finally start considering your new apartment home.

Because you hate change. Change is scary. Change is walking into a pitch-black tunnel with no flashlight, not knowing what awaits you in the darkness and not knowing if you’ll make it to the other side.

That isn’t to say that change is inherently bad. You’ve experienced good changes before. Arguably, Jungkook was a good change when he went from someone you couldn’t tolerate, to the love of your life back then. You were happy with him, so blissfully happy that for a while, you forgot what it was like to experience any other emotion.

Yoongi has always been your friend. It didn’t take you two very long to become well acquainted with one another and from there, develop a good friendship. You have never thought of him as anything other than a friend. Even when he was your boss, he still felt more like a friend.

As you sit next to him in a bar too empty for your liking – but seems right for a Tuesday night – you feel a palpable shift between the two of you.

When your phone vibrates with a notification, you glance at it only to exhale annoyedly – unclear whether this frustration is directed toward yourself, or the person blowing up your mobile; maybe it’s both. That’s the nth message that Jungkook has sent you in the last couple of hours, and you don’t need to read it to know that it’s probably another iteration of the same apology. How many different ways are there to say “Hey, I’m sorry for fucking the receptionist and then having the balls to tell you that you’re the unprofessional one when you didn’t even do anything.” Apparently a lot, because the texts just keep coming.

“Jungkook again?” Yoongi asks from beside you. Fuck. You’ve mostly been silently moping since he brought you here, too enmeshed in your own web of muddled thoughts that you forgot he’s someone you need to make amends with too.

You give him a nod but still continue to stare at the drink in front of you, trying to disentangle your Yoongi thoughts from your Jungkook ones.

Taking a sip of your drink, your face manages to keep a grimace at bay as the liquid ambushes your tastebuds. You don’t like whiskey, but you need something to hate more than yourself tonight. When you set the glass down, the alcohol sloshes around like a compact sea of your own amber-colored miseries.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “This is unfair to you. I don’t know what came over me. I just want you to know that this isn’t me responding to…” To your confession.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re about to say, then I have to stop you right now.”

“Yoongi…”

“I’m not saying that you can’t turn me down, although I hope you don’t do that,” he chuckles. “I’m just saying that whatever you do, whether you give me a chance or reject me, I want you to decide after you’ve really thought about it, about me.”

You can’t say no to that; it’s only fair. Yoongi knows what he deserves. You haven’t looked at him in any other way, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t. Didn’t you say it yourself, that maybe you should start putting yourself out there? Well, here is someone coming to you before you even have to look anywhere. You may not have expected Yoongi, but then, you didn’t expect Jungkook either.

Yoongi could be the good change you need.

Nevertheless, you want to tell him you’re sorry for the other night. It should be fairly simple, but the words have a hard time dislodging themselves from your throat.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night at dinner… and what I did…”

Yoongi props an elbow on the bar top and leans forward to rest his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Remind me what it is that you did again?”

“Come on, I’m serious.” You are grateful that he’s trying to keep it light, though.

“I’m serious too. I seem to have forgotten.”

“Yoongi…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You sigh, shutting your eyes momentarily. Recalling the moment makes you flush with embarrassment, bringing a splash of color to your cheeks which Yoongi always seems to enjoy.

In a quiet voice, you say, “I’m sorry for throwing salt at you…”

“You threw salt at me!” He tips his head back, laughing freely. The bartender spares you two a glance at the sudden disruption. “You shouldn’t go around throwing salt at people!”

“Stop laughing! I’m trying to apologize.” You punch his arm out of habit and for a second there, you forget that your relationship with Yoongi isn’t the same anymore. Changed forever.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Jeez, why are you so violent?” He rubs the spot where you hit him, muttering under his breath something about him bruising like a peach. “Apology accepted. No hard feelings.”

“Okay, good. But I still want you to know that if you were expecting anything from tonight…”

Yoongi ruffles your hair with a scoff. “I’m not that dense. Of course I’m not expecting anything.” When you peer at him with curious and unsure eyes, he continues, “Y/N, earlier you looked like you wanted to set the place on fire and Jungkook looked like he was about to shit himself. Tonight, I’m just a friend who’s here for you if you want to vent. We’re just two buddies having a drink, that’s all.”

He makes it sound so simple, while your brain is already going haywire.

Despite yourself, you chuckle at his words. You tell him how much you appreciate it, though you don’t really tell him anything about what happened this afternoon, just that Jungkook said some stuff that pissed you off. You can’t tell him exactly what Jungkook did to anger you without alluding to the confession for which Yoongi is letting you off the hook for now.

“Do you wanna come with me tomorrow?” Yoongi asks.

“Come with you where?”

“I have a shoot with Valentino in the morning.”

“You have a photoshoot not even 12 hours from now and you’re here drinking? Aren’t you gonna wake up puffy or something?”

“Yeah, my manager would kill me if she knows what I’m doing,” he replies casually, like his manager has a telepathic connection with him and she can sense him mocking her over a drink. When people see Agust D, they tend to only see the icy exterior that he dons. That tough, maybe even callous, image has sustained him in the entertainment industry for years. For many, Agust D seems intimidating and unapproachable. That’s how you felt when you first met him too. But after a while, you got to see Min Yoongi, and Min Yoongi is nothing if not warm and tender-hearted, even if he’s a little shit sometimes. At least, that’s what he has always been like to you. “She thinks I’m getting my beauty sleep right now.”

You lightly snort at that, telling him, “Yeah, you need it.”

When you start to yawn, Yoongi calls a driver to drop you off at your place. The ride is mostly silent, because you’re tired and because you’re not sure what to say to Yoongi in the presence of a stranger taking you home. The car pulls up to your building soon enough, and before you can step out and tell him goodnight, he offers to walk you up. He takes the elevator with you to your floor, how gallant but unnecessary. When you reach your door, you wonder whether you should invite him in for a glass of water or something. If this was a week – or even just a couple of days – earlier, you would’ve had no reason to hesitate. He doesn’t ask if he can come in but instead takes one of your hands.

“I see you’ve been giving yourself some TLC. They’re a lot better now,” he comments, smoothing his thumb over your skin. You’ve been diligent with your hand care routine since he gave you that lotion. It feels nice, and it smells amazing. Besides, your hands were starting to hurt anyway.

Silence descends upon the two of you as you become aware of Yoongi touching you, and the weight of the answer you’ve yet to give him. He must feel you stiffen, because he lets you go and smiles.

“Relax, princess. Get some sleep, you’re the one who needs it. I said I’ll let you think about it, didn’t I? Stop stressing so much.” His index finger taps your cheek playfully, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. The wink that he tacks on makes you roll your eyes. You watch Yoongi make his way to the elevator, step in and press the button for the ground floor. He maintains eye contact with you as he waits for the doors to shut, and you don’t think you’ve really noticed before how Yoongi carries himself with such confidence and poise even when he’s off-camera. That’s just the kind of person he is and it’s… kind of attractive.

You can’t even fish around in your bag for your keys, you just stand there because he keeps your gaze trained on him. His eyes are alluring even under the shitty lighting of your building’s elevator. Before the lift closes, his voice carries over from the metal box to your door, and you don’t know if it’s the echo of his low timbre in the empty hallway that makes you shiver, or if it’s just Yoongi.

“I’ve waited this long, what’s a little more time?”

One week. This is a record for you and Taehyung.

You’re still baffled by his attitude that night, and no one has cleared anything up for you. He was right, but that doesn’t mean you were wrong. You stand by your initial reaction. Could anyone really blame you for that? In your defense, who the fuck could believe that a worldclass megastar has romantic feelings for them? Not to mention that the person whom the megastar in question has feelings for is you! You, the pathetic girl who can’t seem to get over her ex. Yoongi had to sit through a whole hour of you drunkenly crying over Jungkook, for fuck’s sake!

That really wasn’t your best moment, but it’s not like you even remember it anyway.

Your phone buzzes to life with Jimin’s face taking over the whole screen – a photo of your hand squishing his full cheeks until his lips jut out. “Hey Minnie,” you greet him once you’ve swiped to accept the call.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding out of breath. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home. Where are you? Are you doing pull-ups again? You know you practically hyperventilate when you do more than 3.”

“Shut up, I’m at dance practice. But listen, have you talked to Tae yet?”

You purse your lips at the mention of his name. “No. We’re supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow like we always do, but I guess that won’t be happening.”

Jimin hums, like he’s in thought. He doesn’t speak again until his breathing has calmed. “Well, can you go to his place right now?”

“Why?”

“He’s sick and I’m kind of worried about him. He hasn’t answered my messages.”

You frown. “Tae’s sick?”

“Yeah, he must’ve caught a cold the other day. Could you go over there and check on him? I would go but I can’t leave for another few hours.”

You agree to go, because of course you would. Even if you’re stubborn and hot-headed, no amount of pettiness could make you ignore your friends especially when they’re unwell and need somebody. Especially when it’s Taehyung who’s been there for you so many times.

You stay on the call with Jimin for another ten whole minutes even after you have said you would go, because he keeps droning on and on about how shitty Taehyung looked yesterday.

Before you go to your best friend’s apartment, you stop by your regular diner to pick up some comfort food for him, and the pharmacy for some medicine. During the rest of the drive there, you start getting a little worried. When Taehyung takes care of a sick you or Jimin, he practically goes into full mama bear mode, making sure that you’re as comfortable as humanly possible and not leaving your side until you’re a functional human being again. But when it comes to his own wellbeing, Taehyung doesn’t seem to be that concerned. It’s not that he neglects his health, but you wish that he would show himself the same kindness that he shows you.

It feels weird to use the spare key that you have to his place, considering that you aren’t really on speaking terms. In hindsight, it feels so childish. How old are you to still be pulling the silent treatment on each other?

You ring the doorbell and wait a couple minutes until you hear Taehyung shuffling to get the door from the other side. When it swings open, he tenses up a bit, not expecting to see you at all. His hair is damp; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. Taehyung doesn’t look as bad as Jimin described though. Just some dark circles under his eyes.

You raise a hand and wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he parrots somewhat awkwardly. It’s understandable; neither of you thought you’d be the one to break the ice. “What are you doing here?”

Bringing your other hand up, you show him the bag you’re holding. “Brought you soup and cold meds. Jimin said you’re sick.”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Thanks…” he says slowly, “but I’m not sick?”

“But Jimin said you caught a cold and you’ve been wheezing like a dying fisherman and–” You purse your lips, catching onto what’s really happening here. “He tricked me, didn’t he?”

Park Jimin…

Taehyung tuts under his breath, shaking his head at the ground. “Mhmm.”

“He could go into acting. He sounded really worried on the phone, like you were on the verge of death.”

“No, yeah, he really could,” Taehyung agrees. “Jimin is bizarrely good at lying sometimes. We should be worried about that.”

You laugh, and that makes him feel like the air is relaxed enough for him to laugh too. It only lasts a few seconds before you’re left staring at each other again. You hate it. You really, really hate it.

You thought that the universe sent you a sign, gave you a reason to come over and make nice with your best friend. Turns out that “the universe” is really just Park Jimin and his scheming tongue. But you’re already here, and you have to talk to him eventually. Jimin might have lied, but you would’ve just waited for Taehyung to reach out first to offer an olive branch anyway.

“Well, can I come in?” you ask. It’s weird that you even have to ask.

“Of course,” he says absentmindedly, stepping to one side to let you in. He takes the bag from your hand and brings it to the kitchen while you kick off your shoes and change into the pair of fuzzy bear slippers that he keeps for you here.

You want to tell him what happened as much as you hate admitting that you were wrong.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, a sad attempt at delaying what will inevitably come.

“No,” comes his simple reply.

“Should we eat? I bought enough for two people.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“You don’t have to be sick to eat chicken noodle soup.”

Taehyung looks at you like the thought has genuinely never crossed his mind. “Interesting… Okay, then.”

You put on an episode of your favorite show while he heats up the food. When you both sit down to eat, it’s mostly silent while the TV continues to play. The most you and Taehyung thing that you exchange in these 30 minutes is him saying soup tastes like shit when you’re not actually sick, and you telling him to stop being such a hater. When you both finish, Taehyung rinses the bowls and puts them in his dishwasher.

Before you came over, you thought you would only be making him eat, take his meds, and sit there for a bit while he sleeps. If you had known this would happen, you would’ve prepared yourself for it.

But then again, you were tricked into coming.

Ugh. Just do it. You are so freaking dramatic.

“Well,” you start, keeping your voice light and trying not to stand around like you’re out of place in his apartment, “you were right.”

“About what?” Taehyung asks, wiping his hands on a towel.

“About Yoongi and… all that.”

“Oh.” His expression is one you aren’t too familiar with. There’s surprise – yes, that you’re making peace with him – in the way his brows slightly lift, but there’s something else too. Something odd that you can’t quite put a finger on, and it makes you slightly uneasy because you don’t like it when you can’t read Taehyung.

He’s pretty quick to mask it, and it makes you even more conscious that there’s something he isn’t telling you. Of course, this feeling is miniscule, practically a seed compared to the blooming garden of nerves that the events of these past few days have dumped upon you, so you can’t categorize it as a high-level priority to nitpick. You need to deal with your main concerns first, aka what to do about Yoongi and Jungkook, both individually and together, and then you can begin to inspect what’s going on with Taehyung.

It all sounds so easy in theory.

Taehyung goes to the couch and you wordlessly follow. You sit down when he pats the spot next to him – your spot. “How did you come to that conclusion?” he asks. “You know I don’t get to hear you tell me I’m right very often.”

Because you aren’t right very often, is what you almost say. It’s light and playful, and you both know it would diffuse the leftover tension, but you chuck the words aside in favor of something more serious. There isn’t that much to catch him up on, but there is a lot to unpack from the few things that did transpire over the last few days.

You give him a recap of what happened with Yoongi and subsequently what happened with Jungkook. Those are the two things weighing the most on your mind. You haven’t really processed anything; blame it on Yoongi for telling you that you have time to think things through.

One thing you love about Taehyung is that he doesn’t tell you what to do, but rather helps you sort things out on your own. Come to think of it, these conversations often take place on his couch. He’s like your own personal therapist at this point.

“Can you give me a hug?” You probably can’t ask a licensed therapist to do this, though.

He softens even more with a smile. Opening his arms, he says, “C’mere.”

You shuffle over to sink into his embrace. You sigh as you practically melt in his hold. Taehyung is a little bony, but hugging him feels exactly like hugging a giant teddy bear. He’s soft, and always knows how to hold you just tight enough, how to stroke your hair the way you like, how to be just the comforting presence you need amidst a whirlwind of anxious thoughts. And he smells like jasmine, though that might be because you keep deliberately gifting him colognes with scents that you like.

With your chin perched on his shoulder, you feel yourself start to relax, walls coming down if only briefly.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks after a moment.

You’re suddenly aware that you’re crying. You don’t know how it started, but now that the waterworks have begun, it seems like there’s no stopping. “No,” you sniffle. “Can I just…”

You feel him exhale. “Of course.”

Taehyung is one of the few people – oh who are you kidding? He might be the only one – whom you feel comfortable enough around to let yourself cry to your heart’s content.

You’ve been feeling it for days now, even before all that shit happened. Every cell in your body is constantly vibrating, with anxiety, with guilt, with a heaviness that sinks into your bones. You’re shaking even when your hands are perfectly still. People, memories, thoughts you keep only to yourself – they all phase through you, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath.

When it rains, it pours.

Everything is weighing you down like someone has tied you to an anchor and pushed you into the unrelenting, unforgiving water. Grief is an ocean and you don’t know how to swim. Your job, your friends, the unbridled mess that you call a love life… Everything is changing and you’re the same. You’re different, but somehow still the same. Deep down, you’re still that scared little girl who doesn’t know what to make of the world. Your knees are bleeding but your mother is telling you not to cry. Why can’t you cry when you’re hurting? Every minute feels like a lifetime but every day feels like it’s going by in two seconds. Things are moving so fast. Things are moving too slow. You can’t remember the last time you actually cried. Really cried. Bawled. Sobbed. Let out all the dirt until you can see your roots again. Until you originate back to being a blank canvas. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only way that can help you see things more clearly. Your vision might blur for a while but afterward, it’ll have washed everything away. At least a little bit. So you can get your footing again.

You miss clarity, or the illusion that you have any control over your life. You miss looking out the window and have something to look forward to, even on overcast days where the sun can’t be bothered to bring you light. You miss hearing your heart beat a melody that doesn’t ache, doesn’t rattle you to the core. Pieces of you have been held together by nothing but tape and glue for the longest time. Eventually, they’ll deteriorate, and you’ll go back to being skin and bones always on the verge of falling apart.

Some of your best writing was never meant for anybody to hear. The best lines that you’ve scribbled down are diary entries disguised as music, as poetry. They’re results of your lowest and weakest moments, it just happens that there was a journal lying around and you thought that if you had to keep all that sadness inside for a second longer, you would burst. Those immortalized lines represent your heartbreak, your self-hatred, your sorrow and your grief. They come from a lifetime of unshed tears, from the burden of having a heart that feels too much but is always silenced. Words are your escape when time rushes through you like a child skipping stones. Everything hurts all the time but no one knows and you don’t bother explaining to anyone how you wish you could be a different person living a different life because it seems like the universe has made a mistake with this one. How it feels like a divine power has miscalculated and misread your false stoicism as resilience. Just because a person carries it well doesn’t mean they have to carry it at all.

Sometimes you like to muse that if anyone could catch a glimpse of what it’s like inside, they’d think, Wow. How are you holding all of that weight? How are you so silent through it all? How do you live with an ache so allconsuming that I can hardly see you underneath it?

It’s the only way you know how to express yourself. But even then, when you’re screaming and burning, you’re still quiet. Those words are your heart on paper, raw and bleeding all over the place, covered in a million cracks that no one can see or even pay enough attention to notice. They’re there whether anybody likes it or not. They’re right there, red ink staining white pages, begging in a voice small like a child asking for love. Please see me. I’m here. Nobody taught me how to swim. Please see me.

But nobody does. They walk past you every day. They sit with you, smile at you and laugh with you. They leave you. They stay. They break your heart. Even when they love you, nobody sees you.

You love Taehyung, but you don’t think he understands. He knows you better than almost everyone in this world and he tries to help you in any way he can, but at the end of the day, maybe this isn’t something that a person can understand even if they want to. It’s worse, to realize that perhaps it isn’t because people don’t care enough to see it, but that no matter how hard they try, they can’t.

The only person who has ever come the closest is Jungkook, with his big doe eyes that always see through you and see into you. Sometimes, you think there might be parts of you that he could see but you still don’t. He knew things about yourself that you never want anybody to find out, and he loved you anyway. He went the lengths that nobody ever did because they all gave up after a while. Someone once told you that you felt like a fortress wall impossible to climb, that nobody had the time, the patience to wait for you. In other words, you weren’t worth it. Not worthless, just not worth the effort it would take to break down your walls.

But Jungkook showed up and tried, every day. The one person that you never saw coming. You might have resisted at first, but then you became his biggest supporter. You were rooting for him to know you, how fucked up is that? You were right there. He was so close.

And then he stopped.

You suppose that’s what makes everything awful now – to know that you should let go of him when he’s the only person who ever came that close.

You don’t know how long Taehyung has had to sit here, comforting you like this, but at one point, your stomach starts growling and you feel your best friend trying to hold back a giggle. Jungkook might have mastered the art of loving you, but Taehyung is an expert at comforting you.

“Shut up.” You wipe away the dampness on your cheeks with the back of your hand and push Taehyung off. “Crying makes me hungry.”

“Should I order us fried chicken then?”

“And soju. Get some soju too.”

Jimin is a strategic trickster. There was no dance practice. He just ran around his apartment ten times until his breathing turned ragged, which if you ask anyone, was completely unnecessary. He’s very extra, but at least it was effective.

After he got off the phone with you, Jimin immediately went to your shared phone tracker app – today was one of those times where it proves to be the most useful. He stared at the little circle with a silly photo of you as it moved from your address to Taehyung’s with a couple pit stops along the way. Jimin giggled to himself when he saw your circle meet Taehyung’s, because at that point you two must have realized already that you’d been swindled. Of course, there was always a chance of you leaving the moment you figured out you had come all that way for no reason at all, but when Jimin saw after a couple of hours that the two circles are still next to each other, he knew that you and Taehyung made up already.

Jimin sends a message to your group chat, a simple hello but Taehyung knows what he’s trying to get at. The text thread shared by the three of you lights up with a selfie of you and Taehyung each holding a chicken drumstick and wearing a content smile. In the background, there are some soju bottles, a box of chicken and some fries.

Jimin doesn’t question why your eyes look a little puffier than usual. He just replies with a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. The triumph of his mini victory almost makes him forget that there’s someone else in his home.

Jungkook peeks over Jimin’s shoulder to peek at his phone, curious to see what’s making his friend so delighted. When he sees you and Taehyung on Jimin’s screen, he sinks again, heart sitting in the pit of his stomach. The words you told him just the day before ring loud in his ears, as if they haven’t been stuck on his mind, playing on a loop.

You’re such a fucking hypocrite.

You weren’t wrong, but man, did that feel like a punch in the gut.

He goes to sit across from Jimin, taking note of every single sound that notifies his friend of a new message. For the first time, he feels like an outsider, like he’s intruding on a private moment.

“I fucked up,” Jungkook admits quietly, cracking open a can of beer and taking a long sip. It makes Jimin look up and put away his phone. “With Y/N,” Jungkook clarifies.

“Yeah, I’ve been informed. That was the stupidest thing you’ve done in a while.”

“In a while? When was the last time I did something stupid?”

Jimin doesn’t even have to think about it. He answers right away, “When you left her.”

Jungkook hums, unclear whether the noise is meant in agreement or just in acknowledgment. His tongue darts out to swipe across his dry lips before he breathes out. “I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t replied to any of my texts. I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“From what I’ve been told, you were a fucking asshole,” Jimin says lightly, his words emphasized with a chuckle like he finds Jungkook’s predicament so funny. “I can’t believe you would say that shit about Yoongi to her right after he confessed.”

Cue a pregnant pause, and a pair of doe eyes staring right into Jimin’s skull, unable to decipher if what he’s hearing is a joke or not.

“Yoongi– what?”

Jimin slaps himself internally. Shit. It slipped, he swears. “Nothing,” he sighs, but he knows it wouldn’t be dropped so easily.

“No. Not nothing,” Jungkook sits up straight and puts his chilled beer down on the table, missing the coaster entirely just to piss off his friend. “The fuck do you mean Yoongi confessed? Confessed what?”

Jimin sighs with pursed lips. “What else? What do you think he confessed to?”

Jungkook gulps, and blinks a few times. When? Why? Was that the reason you looked so distraught yesterday before all that shit went down between you and him? Who confesses to someone in a freaking break room?

Then Jungkook remembers that you and Yoongi went out for drinks last night. What did he say? What did you say? His stomach churns at the thought of something… happening between the two of you.

Jimin takes in his friend’s dumbfounded expression. “Why are you shocked?” he asks. “I thought you expected something like this. Isn’t it why you spewed all that crap about Yoongi flirting with her?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels like the guy is out to get me for some goddamn reason. I thought he was just playing with Y/N to piss me off!”

Jimin shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “Yoongi wouldn’t do that to her.”

“How would you know?”

“Because when they first worked together, from the things that she told us, the stuff that Yoongi would do for her, Taehyung and I thought he liked her back then too,” Jimin says. “This has nothing to do with you.”

It sucks. It fucking sucks.

“Should I go over there?” Jungkook asks, a newfound sense of urgency in his voice that borderlines panic. He’s acting like this fact that Jimin just dumped upon him is unraveling just as this conversation is taking place, but in reality, he’s one of the last people to know.

“And tell her what? If you’ve said sorry a million times and she hasn’t responded, then saying it one more time won’t change anything.”

“What am I supposed to do when I see her tomorrow?”

“Nothing? Are you incapable of leaving things alone? If she wants to ignore you, let her ignore you. If she wants to yell at you, let her yell at you. If she wants nothing to do with you, let her do that too. Why do you keep making things worse for yourself?”

Jungkook runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “So your solution is for me to just let her hate me?”

Jimin levels him with a look, which just annoys him even more. “You had no problem with that before.”

“If you’re not gonna help me, should I ask Taehyung then?”

“Don’t go to Tae about this.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t,” Jimin snaps, and it makes Jungkook falter for a few seconds before the petulance in him clouds his better judgment.

“Why? He’s her best friend. They’re practically joined at the hip. He’s gotta be able to help me with this.”

“You really want to go to Taehyung for advice on how to suck up to your ex-girlfriend? He’s the most protective of her. What makes you think he would be willing to help you?”

“He’s my friend too, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he want to help all of us be civil with each other?”

“Yeah, he’s your friend. I’m your friend and Y/N’s too. And you’re right, all of us should get along, but we shouldn’t be put in a situation where we’d have to try. You did that to us and nothing is going to be the same again. I don’t even know why you did it. You kept your mouth shut for years no matter how hard me and Taehyung tried to get it out of you. Now you suddenly can’t make peace with the consequences of your actions? Now you want us to help you win over the person you fucked over, who is also our closest friend? I don’t get you, JK. I’m starting to regret not letting Taehyung punch you back then.”

Jungkook stares at his friend. Is this shock that he’s feeling? He still remembers that night, because he doesn’t forget a lot of things. He can’t forget it. He had never seen Taehyung – who is usually so calm and cordial – get that angry before. His friend, who is a saint of a man, felt so much rage toward Jungkook that Jimin had to physically hold him back.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin asks. “You’re not used to me not being on your side all the time?”

He knows that. The only person who seems to be on Jungkook’s side is himself, and sometimes he isn’t sure if this is even true at all. What you told him at the dance studio’s opening party, what Jimin is telling him now, and even the things that Taehyung shouted at him a couple of years back – it’s all true. He knows these things already, but it feels different to hear them from other people. You’re all right; nobody is overreacting. To an outsider, it might come across as harsh, but to anyone who knows anything, it’s rightfully deserved.

Nevertheless, Jungkook admits quietly, “Actually, yeah.”

Jimin sighs, because he knows that his friend has no malicious intent toward you or toward anyone. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t mean to hurt you, any more than he already has. Jungkook is even more crazed now that Yoongi is somehow a factor in all of this. It’s the insecurities bubbling at the surface. He’s panicking and he can’t even see straight. This is just his own stupid take on fight or flight. It was flight for a while, and now apparently it’s not. Jimin doesn’t really understand it, but he gets that this is his friend’s way of dealing with shit. “I tried, man. I did. But it’s really, really hard to have your back on this.”

Jungkook is well aware of it too – that to leave you alone is probably the best thing he can do at this point. Everything he says or does seems to backfire; instead of pulling you closer, all he manages to do is push you further away and make you hate him more than you already do.

But in a way, isn’t that a good thing? Better to have you hate him than be indifferent toward him. After all, there’s a thin line between love and hate. You yourself blurred this line long ago. You can do it again, can’t you?

Jungkook sits there for a while longer to finish his beer, even though he doesn’t have anything else to say. It’s clear what Jimin’s stance on this is, and no matter what he says, it’s unlikely that anyone will help him try and get back in your good graces.

Before he leaves, Jimin says something that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to fucking cry and kick something and speed over to your apartment just so you could reassure Jungkook that he’s still the one you hate the most. That all of your feelings, whether they’re good or bad, are still reserved for him and only him.

It isn’t what his best friend should tell him, but it’s what a good friend would say. It's not about Jungkook, it's not about Jimin or Taehyung or anyone else. It's about you, who has been hurt the most here.

“If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too.”

[10:48] Yoongi: Attachment: 2 Images.

[10:49] Yoongi: got yelled at for showing up puffy yesterday

You tap on the notifications and the photos pop up within seconds. It’s Yoongi at his Valentino shoot probably. He never used to send you stuff like this, nor asked you to come watch him at his photoshoots. Why would he?

You zoom in on his face to inspect if he really was puffy, but you can’t really tell. Maybe if you were a makeup artist with a sharper eye, you would see it. But under your regular-person gaze, everything seemed fine. Yoongi looked handsome in the pictures.

[10:55] You: you don’t look puffy to me

[10:57] Yoongi: so how do i look to you? ;)

[10:58] You: the fits look good

[11:01] Yoongi: i wasn’t asking about the fits

[11:05] You: and i’m telling you the fits look good anyway

[11:07] Yoongi: what about the model?

[11:10] You: are you fishing for compliments?

[11:11] Yoongi: what if i am?

[11:14] You: the model looks Not Puffy

[11:16] Yoongi: you’re no fun ;(

You consider your next reply for a moment. It doesn’t seem like that big a deal. You want to send it. It seems innocent enough, and it’s the truth. A simple praise can’t hurt, right?

Your fingertips tingle just typing the words out. You’re suddenly so jittery for some reason as your thumb hovers over the arrow symbol that would whoosh away your message. It's a good kind of jittery. You might even say that you’re excited.

[11:22] You: the model looks good too

You put your phone face-down on the table, not even checking when it vibrates with Yoongi’s response to your latest text. It’s so weird that you’re feeling like this, maybe because it’s been so long since someone has shown an actual interest in you? Or is it because it’s Yoongi? If it were anyone else, would you still react the same?

It’s weird, but not necessarily weird in a bad way. You just aren’t used to it, or it’s been such a long time that you forgot what it feels like to be… wanted? You don’t think about it often but it’s true, you’ve missed the thrill of being chased.

“So… word on the street is you have a secret song.”

Seokjin’s voice makes you glance up, wondering who he could be talking to when the only people in the room beside him are you and Jungkook – whom you haven’t spoken a word to all morning despite him glancing not-so-subtly at you every two seconds. When you got here this morning, there was already a chai latte on the table with your name on it. The order was too specific for it to be Seokjin, but you didn’t say anything.

“The street?” you ponder for a moment, knowing exactly who the culprit is. “Is that what Yoongi calls himself these days? He’s been here for what? A couple weeks? And he’s already blabbed to you.”

“So it’s true?” Seokjin leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yoongi said it’s real good. Top shelf kinda stuff. And you know he never says things like that.”

It’s not a song, or at least that isn’t what you would call it. Maybe more like an essay composed of sentences that go together like misfit puzzle pieces. You don’t think you would ever rework it and pitch it to anyone because it’s yours and it’s personal. You would never tell anyone about it, and Yoongi wouldn’t have come to know about its existence if he hadn’t stumbled across it in your journal by accident.

“Don’t listen to Yoongi,” you say. “At this point, I feel like you should know that Yoongi tends to exaggerate sometimes.”

“He never seems to be exaggerating when it comes to you,” Seokjin muses. You almost blush, thinking about what else Yoongi could’ve told Seokjin. He doesn’t notice the split second in which your cheeks redden just the slightest, or he doesn’t mind it enough to comment. “What’s the title?”

You shrug, saying nothing.

“You can’t even tell me the title? Damn, Y/N. Are you the CIA?”

“I’m not telling you because there is no title. There’s not even a song, just something I go back to sometimes. It’s mostly just word vomit. I promise you, it’s nothing.”

“Tell that to Yoongi. He told me whoever’s gonna get that song is one hell of a lucky bastard.”

Again, what is it with the praise? You know working with Yoongi and being associated with his last album gave your career a boost, but you weren’t aware that he was talking about you with other people. Maybe he only does it with Seokjin because they’re close, but still, it makes you itch with curiosity.

“By any chance are you gonna give it to… me?” Seokjin asks, and seems to immediately hear how flawed it sounds. You stare at him blankly, trying to bite back an amused smile, and even Jungkook turns his head to look too. Seokjin’s ears turn red in an instant. “Okay, that came out kinda wrong. I’m really, really sorry. But you know what I mean.”

You continue to stare at him until his face is so flushed, you swear he’s like a tomato that’s about to burst. You can see why Yoongi likes to tease people this way. “Okay, boss,” you acquiesce with a laugh, relieving Seokjin of the fear that he genuinely offended you. “If the song ever gets to see the light of day, I’ll make sure to ask you to lend your voice.”

“Ah, so you admit it’s a song.” He grins brightly at your empty promise, making you roll your eyes half-heartedly. He goes back to his normal shade in a minute, no longer ridiculously red like a cartoon character. “What’s it about?”

You ponder his question silently, missing the way Jungkook takes this moment to glance at you. When you look up again, he’s already averting his gaze.

What is it about? That’s a question that you yourself have never really considered. It’s about everything and it’s about nothing. It’s love, it’s loss, it’s the infinite in-between. You give Seokjin an answer that won’t satisfy him, but it’s the truth.

“I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

He tuts at you, like he was expecting the obscurity from you anyway. “You’re really not beating the CIA allegations,” he says.

You flip him the bird, which only compels him to stick out his tongue and make a face at you. Then, he diverts his attention to the person who hasn’t contributed anything this whole time.

“JK, why are you so quiet today? We’re not gonna eat you.”

Jungkook mutters something to Seokjin that you don’t quite catch because the words come out of his mouth like an inarticulate mess, which is so unlike him. He sounds jumpy, like he’s too nervous to speak in front of you. Seokjin’s eyes land on you again as he mouths a confused What?

You just shrug, and Seokjin has to take Jungkook’s weird response as him having an off day. The man checks his phone, lets out a quiet whine, then addresses the both of you. “I have a shoot this afternoon so you two will have to hold down the fort, by the way.”

You come back from your solo lunch date to an empty studio.

Well, almost empty. There’s something new that wasn’t there before.

Another chai latte waiting for you equates to another apology hoping to be acknowledged. The paper cup is still hot when your hand reaches out to touch it. You sink into your chair with a sigh. You could laugh at yourself for feeling so nostalgic at the sight of a beverage in the middle of a workday.

Jungkook walks in about 15 minutes later, and the air turns suffocating at his arrival. He feels it too, you know he does.

You chew on your bottom lip until it starts to hurt, bite down on it until it almost bleeds.

“Jungkook,” you say, catching his attention. It looks like he didn’t expect you to initiate any conversation. It’s not like you want to, but you have to. You keep having to do this, because he just wouldn’t listen. “Stop buying me drinks.”

It translates to: Stop saying sorry. Stop trying to make things right. Stop doing things you think would make me happy. Stop making me have the same argument with you over and over again.

“Because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says, and proceeds to repeat the one thing that you’re sick of hearing from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you verbalize it. “If it’s not about work, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to hear it, Jungkook. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You do need to hear it. Because I can’t function properly until you know how sorry I am.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Hear me out,” he says, sounding a little firmer now but you still catch the crack in his voice. “Please.”

Jungkook must take the way you hesitate to shut down him as reluctant permission for him to keep going, because he stands up and moves to a spot closer to you. Not close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but enough for you to see the tiny mole under his bottom lip and how it quivers when he looks at you.

Fuck. You’re letting him win again.

“Okay, fine. Talk then. I’m listening. You’re sorry, right? You keep saying you’re sorry for everything, but what exactly is everything? What are you even sorry about? Are you sorry about annoying me right now, or are you sorry about being a prick the other day, or are you sorry about leaving me five years ago? When did you become this pathetic, Jungkook?”

“W–what?”

“When did you become so pathetic?” you repeat. “If you had to come back, couldn’t you come back as someone better? Someone who’s sure of himself and has a good life, not this… person who has to grovel at my feet for forgiveness. Even when you were at your lowest, you weren’t like this. I don’t even know who this Jungkook is. What happened to you?”

If you think that you saw him at his lowest, then you’re wrong. He didn’t hit rock bottom until he’d left you and had to live with what he chose to do.

“You’re right. I am pathetic,” Jungkook agrees, dropping his gaze to the floor like he’s ashamed. “But fuck, I’m trying to be worthy of you.”

It’s a truth that he doesn’t want to face, doesn’t want to admit how very real it is until you’ve just said it and it fucking guts him. He knows his friends pity him sometimes, even if they don’t want to view him as someone to be pitied. No matter how much of a front he puts up, he knows that Jimin and Taehyung see right through him. They won’t say it to his face, and for that Jungkook has gotten away with avoiding this fact for so long. But to hear it from you, to watch you spell it out for him, it hurts.

He wants to mention Yoongi, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t immediately aggravate you. After all, bringing up Yoongi is what got him into this mess, isn’t it?

Regardless, he wants to ask you a question that he already knows the answer to. What does Yoongi have that he doesn’t? The answer is: A lot of things. Yoongi has a lot of things that Jungkook doesn’t, one of them being the self-assurance to not run away when it comes to you and what you deserve.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because he’s scared it might drive you right into Yoongi’s arms and Jungkook can’t compete with a man like that.

He can barely keep up even with just himself in the running.

There’s a big question mark that pops up in your head, along with a slight sting in your eyes that you blink away. You’ve never seen Jungkook like this before. This whole time, was it not only you who was miserable?

He looks so small that it breaks your heart. For once, you aren’t sad for yourself but you’re sad for him. It never occurred to you that he could’ve been lonely too, having to keep all of this inside because you know he didn’t share it with anyone else. You catch a glimpse of him again, like you did when you were making ramen together in your kitchen while a storm was raging outside. In a lot of ways, Jungkook is still that kid stuck in an adult’s body, lost and scared and loved you. It feels like you could’ve seen him in the same ocean while you were just trying to keep your head above water.

The sight of him, so vulnerable and astray, placates you. Your resolve crumbles, but not like it was ever that strong to begin with. You suppose you could see why he was being a jerk to you. Even though it doesn’t justify what he said, you understand just a little bit where he was coming from. You find yourself forgiving him for some of it. It’s part of letting things go, right?

But no matter how much you want to reach out and comfort him, you know you shouldn’t. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? You’re confused and it feels like you two have been going around in a circle, looking for a solution that doesn’t seem to exist.

Coexisting doesn’t work. Telling him to leave things alone doesn’t work. What else can you do?

Why do you have to resolve a problem that isn’t even yours? Jungkook says he’s trying, but his efforts keep making your life harder and harder. You practically blew up in his face, then apologized for being harsh even though you were fully aware that you had nothing to be sorry for. You called him a hypocrite and now you’re ready to cave just because he’s on the verge of shedding a few tears. This constant back and forth between your anger and your reluctance to see that anger through is possibly the thing that’s hindering you.

You can’t – and shouldn’t – accommodate him anymore. You have to put your foot down, no matter how difficult it is with the lingering ghost of your past love.

Because you’re always weak when it comes to Jungkook.

Because you’re still holding onto something.

Because Jungkook will always be the first person that you have ever loved, and those four years meant a lot to you even if they didn’t to him. Maybe it’s even fair to say that you might never truly get over it, and that doesn’t have to be such a terrible thing. Maybe he was never the person you thought he was, or maybe you never meant as much to him as he did to you. Somehow, that’s okay. It’s manageable because it’s routine at this point. You’ve internalized it. The years have taught you that sometimes, things get shitty just because they can and you just have to deal with it.

The intrinsic pain of the human experience. C’est la vie.

What a world this is.

Is it bad that you’re thinking about Yoongi in a moment like this?

Yoongi could be your future, if you’d let him.

You should let him. Maybe this is your answer right here.

“Jungkook, let’s stop.” He looks at you with crestfallen eyes, but you have to keep going. The only way out is through. “Let’s stop. You want me to listen to you, but you haven’t been listening to me. I don’t have the strength to keep this up anymore, and I have told you that repeatedly but you wouldn’t listen. Jungkook, move on.”

You pretend not to notice how his lip trembles even more. “What if I don’t want to move on?”

This feels like a conversation that should’ve happened ages ago. Five years ago, you should’ve screamed at him, cried with him, held each other as you both fell apart. He stripped you of that right and gave you no say at all.

“You’re being awfully selfish,” you tell him, but in your head, you’re already thinking about what his words actually mean.

“Have you completely written me off then? Is there nothing at all that I can do? Because I would do anything if you asked. You know that.”

Your throat is so dry that it feels like you’re swallowing sand. You dig everything back up again until you find the memory of that day hidden at the very bottom.

It’s terrible. He’s making you relive it again.

“I remember calling for you and you didn’t even look back,” you say, but your voice breaks toward the end. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

Jungkook just stares at you then, and for the longest time, neither of you say anything. This is the first time that you two have addressed the problem, properly addressed it instead of half-heartedly sweeping it under the rug like you tried to do.

You breathe in, he breathes out. You hate the way you feel, and you resent the way he looks like he’s breaking down just as badly. There are tears in those eyes, tears that Jungkook doesn’t let spill because he defiantly wipes them away with the back of his hand after a moment.

When he speaks next, you want the world to end.

“Then I’ll earn your trust back. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will.”

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iamamythologicalcreature · 5 months

Text

COC Day 8 - "Sick"

Sorry this is late. I honestly forgot I'd doodled this tiny little text ficlet. Just some randomness that popped into my head with this @carryon-countdown prompt.

Simon POV:

“I’m not sick.”

I sigh as I eye a wall full of homeopathic teas. Surely there’s something here, out of like 500 different herbal blends, that will help Baz out. I pick one up and read the label (like that will help). “You’re malnourished,” I murmur into my mobile as I read, “which I could fix, but you don’t want to bite me.”

I can hear Baz roll his eyes. “I’m fine, Snow. And I don’t get sick, so you don’t have to cure me.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Maybe this one? Is echinacea beneficial to stubborn blood-starved vampires? Maybe something with more iron in it. Maybe I should be stuffing supplements down his throat.

“I don’t get sick. I’m a dark creature of the night.”

I love how he uses that excuse like it isn’t at least partly responsible for his current condition. Prat. “You fainted.”

There’s a pause, then Baz mutters, “I took a strategic break from consciousness.”

I snort. I’m going to stuff him with iron supplements, then kiss him stupid. “You like green tea, right?”

Baz lets out a beleaguered sigh, which has a sort of honking cadence to it over the phone. “I’m not sick.” A pause. Then, “But I do like green tea.”

Right. Into the basket with that blend. “If I ‘took a break’ the way you did this morning, you’d have had me at Dr. Wellbelove’s within the hour.”

“That’s different.”

Red meat. I could do steak. I’m pretty decent at grilling. And if all else fails, Baz needs practice putting out fires, right? “Really not,” I say after a second. “I’m getting you protein powder, too.”

“That’s barbaric, Snow.”

“Oh, I’ll show you barbaric, Pitch,” I say with a smile. “But only if you drink your tea, and your protein shake, and top it all off with twice as many rodents as usual. And if you ask nicely.”

A pause. “I’m still not biting you.”

Was that hesitation? My altruistic desire to help Baz suddenly seems like a potential opportunity. I dump three flavours of protein powder into my basket, including one I know has the consistency of ground chalk. “Promises, promises, Baz.”

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an-spideog · 2 months

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this is a more general question that may have been asked before, but do you know of any resources or combination of that would help with learning in a similar way to duolingo? the easy access, repetition, and spoken word was extremely helpful with the beginnings of russian, italian, & irish for me but then they fucked everything up

Sorry for the delay on this one, I don't really have a good answer for you. In general there's a lack of high quality resources available for Irish. I made a post talking about why not to use duolingo and what you can use instead, but they're not really equivalents as much as other paths.

I'm not aware of any good apps which provide comprehensive teaching of Irish along with good pronunciation, but some of the stuff in that post may be helpful.

Oh this is gonna sound like such cheesy self promo but honestly I forgot I made this until someone reminded me of it today lmao. I made an anki flashcard deck for Irish, it features nearly 1000 of the most common words in Irish, if you like flashcards and anki you might find this helpful since it does have the repetition and the spoken word aspects (and unlike duolingo it has recordings of native speakers, not their bad TTS).

Anki is kind of annoying to use for some people, it's a bit confusing and has some setup time, but it's really powerful and can be really good for helping you get that initial vocabulary to move on to watching tv and reading books. (Also you can use it on mobile, the iOS app is expensive but the website works fine on phones).

For this deck I picked the words from a dataset of TV subtitles, so the words are actually common in everyday speech (I've seen a lot of Irish word frequency lists which just don't line up with speech), and it has recordings of each word along with definitions, example sentences and recordings of the example sentence. I also ordered the deck in such a way that the simplest example sentences are near the start and you should be able to understand the examples sentences (mostly) with only the words you've done up to that point.

The deck specifically uses Galway Irish, which I don't actually speak myself, but it's more common on the tv show Ros na Rún (and a lot of Irish TV in general), so it was easier to get clips of it.

There's a load more notes about how I made it on the deck page

#gaeilge #irish language #gaelainn #learning irish #resources #making this deck involved like 3 months a spreadsheet and a lot of artisanal sentence picking

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longlivefeedback · 1 year

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Commenting 101

Lesson 3: Quote. Or paraphrase

Sorry about going MIA last weekend, but I'm back with Lesson 3 💪 But before we get into it, how are we doing with describing the indescribable and commenting in general?

Alright. So let's talk about quoting bits of the fics and commenting on them in a comment. Personally, it's one of my favourite ways to comment because I find it easier to focus on a specific thing/sentence/paragraph/turn of phrase that I really like and gush about it to an author. By doing this, I can also focus on the bits of the story that I really really liked, and not worry about the parts that I didn't like so much. Win-win for everyone!

The one downside of this particular commenting technique is that it does take a relatively high amount of effort and is not as easy as a keyboard smash or entering a bunch of smileys and a catchphrase into the comment box. But hey. Some fics are worth it :)

So, here are some tips on how to quote while commenting:

Keep 2 tabs open.

Use a third party browser script that gives you a floating review box.

Paraphrase.

1. Keep 2 tabs open

Easier on a computer, but I've done it on mobile before. This is literally having two tabs open to the same chapter/fic as I read. When I get to a sentence or phrase that I really like, I'll copy it from my reading tab and paste it into my second tab which has the comment box open.

Sometimes I'll notate what I am thinking in the moment for that quote, and sometimes I'll leave it for the end and experience all the bits I loved again 😍. My comment at the end usually looks something like this:

"Sentence I really like" ~~ I really love how you described this character!

Everything from "Start of a paragraph/section..." to "...end of paragraph/section" is giving me life!!

"Paragraph I really like" ~~ This was perfection and made me cry 😭

and so on and so forth.

It's nice when I notate as I go, because when I'm done reading, I've got quite the comment already written and I usually just round off the comment with a catchphrase like "This was all wonderful! Thank you for writing and sharing!" and hit post, easy-peasy.

2. Use a third party browser script that gives you a floating review box.

This is not something I personally use, but the people who do have really loved it and I love the concept of it so here it is for you to try and see if it works for you!

There are a couple of scripts:

AO3 Floating Comment Box by ScriptMouse. This is a script to create a floating comment box at the bottom of the page for works on AO3. Box will be closed by default, and can be open/closed using the button in the top left corner of the window. Thanks to @memorizingthedigitsofpi for the link!

AO3 Review + Last Chapter Shortcut + Kudos-sortable Bookmarks Tampermonkey script by @ravenel. Click on the link to take you to the original post describing the tool and here's a follow up tutorial post by @bourbon-ontherocks on how to install the script. Credits to @altschmerzes and @castillon02 for the links!

I think these are only for browser on computers (so no mobile?) but please feel free to correct me in the notes if anyone knows.

3. Paraphrase

Let's be real. While Tips 1 and 2 are really just giving you tools to make commenting easier, when it gets down to it, commenting really requires you to, well, comment on something.

So what to do if you forgot to take notes as you read, didn't feel like doing it as you were reading, or found it just too hard to wrangle on mobile?

Paraphrase.

Just refer back to that one thing that caught your attention ala:

"I really love how you described this character in that part!"

"That part where you wrote about that thing that happened to that character is giving me life!!"

"That part where you that happened was perfection and made me cry 😭"

Yes, this does require you to remember and be able to point out and talk about certain parts of the fic. It can be a lot to remember particularly if it's a long chapter. So, as I've stressed in previous lessons, don't let it paralyze you. Just pick one thing you can remember and have the ability to comment on.

Remember:

Just quoting and commenting on one thing is better than nothing.

When you cannot quote, paraphrase!

And as always, when in doubt, comment your catchphrase.

If you want more help constructing a comment or validation that you're writing good comments, please send in an ask or submit a screenshot!

Lessons masterpost.

#commenting 101 #llf commenting 101 #longlivefeedback #commenting #how to comment #commenting and culture

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numinousmysteries · 6 months

Text

Vanquish by Wisdom Hellish Wiles (9/9)

On AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

@today-in-fic

I started this story in October 2017 after first seeing the season 11 trailer, forgot about it for six years, and then finally finished it. Compared to what some other amazing writers in this fandom are creating, it's honestly not great, but coming back to it helped me remember that writing can be fun. I hope to keep writing and hopefully keep improving. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy my vision for how the show could have ended.

As a baby, William moved the mobile above his crib using his mind. As a teenager, he employed his psychic powers to save his birth parents’ lives by spontaneously killing an entire cadre of black ops forces and, presumably, the smoking man and Reyes as well. And yet, in Scully’s mind, neither of those facts were the most impressive thing about her son.

To her, it was simply that he was there—alive and in front of her in the flesh. She wanted to stop time and catalog every detail of his body the way she and Mulder did days after he was born, laying him out on her bed and silently marveling at his tiny toes, chubby limbs, and rosebud mouth. She wanted to run her hands over his face and memorize every feature. Her baby was almost a man and he was just as perfect to her as the day he was born.

There was so much that she missed and so much she doesn’t know. When did he take his first steps? What’s his favorite food? Was he a cautious rule-follower like herself or was he constantly pushing the limits like his father? She’d never get those years back and she’d never forgive herself for giving him away, but in that moment all that mattered was that they were together again.

Mulder’s eyes reflected her astonishment back at her. In their almost 30 years together, they’d learned to communicate without words. A glance, a wink, or a nod could convey missives of emotion. As they stood in the driveway, too stunned to move, she could tell he was as overwhelmed—by shock, by love, by awe—as she was.

“Come on,” William said. “There might be others coming. Let’s go.”

Her son’s voice. Low and deep like his father’s.

“Yeah, Scully,” Mulder said, reaching for her hand. “We better get going.”

She could only nod in response and let Mulder lead them both back to their car.

“You call each other by your last names,” William said. She could tell it wasn’t a question but him logging a fact about them, or confirming one he had already sensed.

“We work together,” Scully said. “And it just stuck.”

William nodded. She was grateful he didn’t ask any questions about her and Mulder’s current relationship that she couldn’t answer. Working together the past couple of months had been good for them. They’d found their old rhythm and had been spending more time together outside of work as well, but she hadn’t felt ready to move back in yet.

Back at the car, Scully realized she didn't know where they’d go. Would they bring William back to DC with them? If colonization was imminent, she needed to get started on developing a vaccine as soon as possible.

“Can we go get my parents?” William asked, as if reading her mind. “They’re probably worried about me.”

Mulder smiled. “Sure,” he said.

“Sorry,” William said sheepishly. “I mean my adoptive parents. That’s just…what I’ve always called them.”

“Don’t apologize, William,” said Scully, even though she admitted to herself that it cut like a knife to hear her son refer to strangers as his parents. “I’m thankful you were placed with a good family who took care of you all these years.”

“Yeah,” Mulder responded. “And I do imagine they’d be worried about you.”

******

They arrived in Wyoming the following morning. William slept on the plane but Mulder and Scully, sitting on either side of him, stayed awake—both keeping guard and watching him in awe.

“This is where you grew up?” Scully asked, after William directed them to a small but well-kept farmhouse.

“Yup, lived here my whole life—well, that I can remember.”

Scully nodded. His childhood must’ve been so different from the one she could’ve given him. Instead of living in a city, he had fields to run and roam in. She wondered if he played baseball like his father and what kind of games he invented for himself when he was little to stay busy in this wide open space.

As they approached the house they noticed the front door was open and the screen door was swinging on its hinges.

“Do your parents normally leave the door open like that?” Mulder asked.

“No,” William said. “That’s weird.”

“I’m going to go check it out,” Mulder said, reaching for his gun. “You two wait in the car.”

It was the first time Scully was alone with her son since finding him the night before. She sat in the passenger seat stealing glimpses of him in the rearview mirror.

“This must be a lot to take in,” she said.

William shrugged his shoulders. “I always knew I was different. Monica told me about you guys.”

Scully swallowed. She wanted to ask Wiliam so many questions but it was impossible to even know where to start. How do you make up for fifteen years—an entire life in his case? She had once known every inch of skin on his tiny body and now he was essentially a stranger. Did he have any scars? Any broken bones? She didn’t know what he liked to eat or his favorite movie.

“Have you ever seen The Exorcist?” he asked from the backseat, startling Scully.

“It’s one of my favorite movies,” she said.

“Me too. My parents don’t watch any horror movies but I started downloading some classics and I love them.”

“William, were you reading my thoughts just now? Why did you bring up The Exorcist?”

“I guess I had a sense of what you were thinking,” he said. “It’s not so clear cut like listening to someone talk out loud but I get sentiments and sometimes words. It’s strong with you. And Mulder, too.”

“Could you read your parents like that?”

“Yeah, I got better at it over time.”

Mulder emerged alone from the house. He jogged back to the car and knocked on Scully’s window, gesturing for her to come with him. She followed him to the front porch.

“Scully, there are two bodies inside. A middle-aged white male and female. Looks like gunshot wounds. I think I can guess who they are and I’d rather not ask William to have to identify them.”

“Shit,” Scully said. “What do we do?”

They heard William’s car door open and watched as he came to stand with them. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”

“Oh, William,” Scully sighed.

“I had a feeling,” he said, looking down at his sneakers.

“Is there anyone else we should try to find? Any other family or friends?” Mulder asked.

William shook his head. He was still looking down but Scully could see him starting to cry.

“I’m so sorry, William,” Scully said. She embraced her son and felt his tears dampening her blouse. Mulder stepped closer and wrapped his arms around both of them.

They were three broken people. Parents who’d lost their child and a child who’d lost his parents, but somehow they were also a family. They just had to find a way to pick up the pieces and find each other once again.

*****

Mulder and Scully offered to move to William’s hometown in Wyoming for him to finish up high school and start their vaccine research there, but he felt no connection to the place without his adopted parents. If anything, he was desperate for a fresh start. His old town was filled with reminders of what he’d lost.

So instead Wiliam moved into their home in Virginia. It was an older, more rundown house but he could tell they had made it a home. He preferred that it wasn’t in the heart of the city because it was less of a dramatic change from his childhood home. Mulder explained that he and Scully had been giving each other some space and she had her own apartment, but as soon as they were back from Wyoming she started every night at the house and slowly moved her belongings back.

There was a spare room on the second floor for him to move his things into.

“I know this is uncomfortable,” said Scully, showing him to his room. “We love you so much, but we know you’re still just getting to know us. I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for.”

“What was in here before?” William said.

“Nothing,” Mulder said. “We never spoke about it, but I think we both hoped you’d be here one day.”

They’d had nearly everything from his old bedroom shipped out to Virginia to try to make the transition smooth. At first he told them he didn’t mind starting over, but as he sat in his new-old room he realized he appreciated the small comforts of home—his snow globe collection, his family photos, and his worn-in baseball glove.

“We should have a catch sometime,” Mulder said, picking up the glove.

“I’d like that.”

They had a lot of work to do. They were racing against an unseen clock to beat the invasion. Scully had already taken blood and saliva samples from William to try to isolate his alien DNA to create a vaccine. They had some old associates who were going to help with the science but there was still the issue of convincing the entire global population to take a vaccine to prevent the colonization of the planet–without inciting mass panic.

William had faith in his birth parents, though. Every night they told him about their old cases which never failed to thrill him. And each day the awkward silences between the three of them started filling up with inside jokes, spirited arguments, and stories of the past that helped close the fifteen-year gap since the last time they were together.

They were careful about giving him space and typically after dinner he’d retreat to his room while his parents sat and talked on the front porch. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but it was comforting to hear their voices drifting up through his bedroom window.

One night around a month after moving in, he decided to join them outside. Scully smiled and scooted over, making room for him to sit in between them on the bench.

“I know you guys keep saying I don’t have to thank you for taking me in,” William started, “but I really do appreciate it. Growing up, I never thought I’d meet you or that if I did… you wouldn’t want anything to do with me because of…who I am and what I can do.”

“William, we love you for being exactly who you are. As I’m sure you’ve started to realize, the two of us aren’t exactly the picture of normalcy either. I think, together, we make a great team,” said Scully.

“Now we just have to save the world,” William said smiling.

“No pressure, right?” Mulder chuckled.

His parents draped their arms around him from either side and he felt himself relaxing against them. For the first time in his life he felt like he was exactly where he should be.

#xfiles #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #today in fic #now excuse me as i go mainline gaslight

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barikinbear · 1 year

Text

Some incorrect quotes for the people with all the versions except 2003 because I haven’t seen it

Brace yourselves because there’s going to be a lot and I don’t know how to add a read more. If anyone knows how to do it on the mobile app, please lmk because nothing I can find is helpful.

Bayverse Donnie: my memory is like a steel trap! I’ve never forgotten anything

Bayverse Leo: you forgot me in the Target parking lot two weeks ago

Bayverse Donnie: no, I left you in the Target parking lot two weeks ago. Try again

2k12 Leo: Turtle Bots, roll out!

2k12 Raph: I age ten years every time you speak

Rise April: sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail

Rise Mikey: no, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have used my one phone call to vote on American Idol

Bayverse April: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives.

Bayverse Casey: I wake up at four thirty a.m.

Bayverse April:

Bayverse April: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives

Vern: my girlfriend and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other’s-

His gf: sentences

Vern: honey, don’t interrupt, it’s rude

‘07 April: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are

‘07 Casey: *sniffles* it’s not a joke. I’m a legit snack

Rise Mikey: do any of you ever want to talk about your emotions?

Everyone: no

2k12 Mikey: I do!

Rise Mikey: I know, Other Me

2k12 Mikey: I’m sad

Rise Mikey: I know, Other Me

Rise Leo: help!! I told Dad I’d cook dinner tonight but I can’t cook!

‘07 Leo, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag ‘87 Leo is holding: and you thought we could help?

Rise Donnie, to Bayverse Leo: hey, how long can a person breath inside a washing machine?

Bayverse Leo:

Bayverse Leo: where’s your Mikey?!

Kidnapper on the phone: we have your genius son

Rise Splinter: oh no, he has you

Kidnapper: wha-?

Rise Splinter: good luck! *hangs up*

Bayverse April: I love you guys, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me

Bayverse Donnie: we’re the best thing that ever happened to you?

Bayverse April: yes!

Bayverse Splinter: I’m starting to feel a little sorry for you

‘07 Splinter: can I be frank with you all?

Rise Leo: sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help

Bayverse Mikey: can I keep my name?

2k12 Casey: shh, let Frank speak

*Rise Mikey is cooking*

Rise April: any chance that’s for me?

Rise Mikey: it’s for Raph. I’m planning on making some bad decisions tonight and I need him on my side

Rise April: wow, I never realized the forethought that goes into being a disappointment

Rise Mikey: oh it’s a full time job

‘07 Leo: I think we’re missing something

‘07 Donnie: teamwork?

‘07 Mikey: cohesion?

‘07 Raph: a general sense of what we’re doing?

Bayverse April: I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship!

‘87 Mikey: and this knife I found!

‘87 Raph: all right, listen up losers! Not you though, Rise Mikey, you’re an angel and I’m so glad you’re here

2k12 Leo: okay, help me please!

Bayverse Raph: got two words for you

2k12 Leo: I bet they won’t be helpful

Bayverse Raph: your problem

2k12 Leo: I was right

‘87 Leo: okay, truth or dare?

Rise Casey: truth

‘87 Leo: how many hours have you slept this week?

Rise Casey:…

Rise Casey: dare

‘87 Leo: go to sleep

Rise Casey: I don’t like this game

Bayverse Donnie: you’re my best friend and the closest thing I have to a sister. I would anything for you

Bayverse April: I want you to eat three full meals a day and have a healthy sleep schedule

Bayverse Donnie: absolutely not

‘07 Raph, standing next to 2k12 Raph: are we in trouble?

Bayverse Leo: take a guess

2k12 Raph: no?

Bayverse Leo: take another guess

2k12 Splinter: my policy is if you see something, speak up

Rise Mikey: I saw a squirrel on the way here! It was being chased by a cat

2k12 Splinter: outstanding! This is what I’m talking about, people

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meikostan · 1 year

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just solved a mystery that wasn't really mystery and didn't really need solving 👍 anyway i was going insane re:oshi no ko timeline because i forgot how old the twins are and what year this takes place in and needed to put all of my info in one place. in this essay i over-analyze the models of iphone as they differ from each other in the manga vs the anime. warning: very disorganized as i was sourcing all my evidence all this WHILE writing the post.

clickbait tldr: OSHI NO KO ANIME AND MANGA ARE IN SEPARATE TIMELINES⁉️ (NOT A PRANK‼️)

regular tldr: they're like 15/16 and the manga takes place in 2020 (but like including their childhood as well as their teenage years).

edit: the image formatting is broken :( idk how to fix it, sorry. they're still there, they're just huge and not next to each other for some reason

compare and contrast ruby in the manga vs the anime. now i will admit i am not an expert of identifying iphones but in the anime she appears to be holding an iphone 4; we can tell because there's only one camera lens, the power button is on the top, as is the headphone jack. it's also a bit rounded on the edges, which seem to have a little bit more meat on them compared to the manga. speaking of, compare with the manga: here, the phone has 3 camera lenses. the angle prevents us from getting a good view of the top of the phone, but there doesn't seem to be either a headphone jack OR a power button. it's a bit harder for me to tell but i think this is supposed to be an iphone 12 pro max.

compare. left: iphone 4, right: iphone 12 pro max

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL because aqua has an iphone too so of course we're looking at that

left: aqua seems to be using the same iphone 4 that ruby was using previously

right: looks more like an iphone x judging by the camera? compare:

ok so moving on. not from phones in general we'll still be talking about those but we also need to consider some other hints shown by the use of technology here. the anime seems to be pushing harder for us to view vol 1 as being set some time around 2010; if you saw my other post re:my thoughts on episode 1 you'll know that i talked about this already, but i'll restate some stuff here for completion's sake (+ add pictures)

compilation of flip phones being used throughout ai's death montage; while i did find some articles published in 2009 on flip phones dipping in popularity because of smart phones, they were definitely still being commonly used around that time. i know this because i was alive in 2009

also a wii, which was released in late 2006. it would have been incredibly common in many households, especially for non-gamers, which it was marketed towards. obviously a lone wii does not automatically mean oshi no ko vol 1 is set in the early 2010s/late 00's, but this in combination with the older models of phones does seem to point in that direction. also i have no proof of this but i feel like if it was set in modern day (2020s) that wii would be a nintendo switch instead.

bonus kana with an iphone 4 btw

you'll notice that these are all anime screenshots, and this is because pretty much none of this is in the manga. apart from the funeral we don't see any crowd shots, or anything of the public; it's all very focused in on aqua and ruby. what we DO see in terms of technology are ruby's iphone 12 pro max and aqua's iphone x, meaning in the manga either vol 1 takes place around late 2020/early 2021, the cast of oshi no ko is stuck in an eternal present, or this was an art oversight brought upon by early installment weirdness.

also, to cover the use of twitter: twitter was launched in late 2006. the website saw a pretty huge boost in popularity in 2008, and the mobile app launched in 2010. it would be very possible for the twins to go twitter viral and become the oshi no ko version of charlie bit my finger.

OK on to guessing how old they are in the present, which for now only exists in the manga!

DO NOT READ BEYOND THIS POINT IF YOU ARE AN ANIME ONLY AND INTEND TO KEEP IT THAT WAY, OR ARE OTHERWISE NOT CAUGHT UP WITH THE MANGA.

so, we know that ai had the twins when she was 16, and died a week before she turned 20. for simplicity's sake we'll just say she died when she was 20. that means the twins would be about 4 years old at this point.

what we're interested in is figuring out their age at present day. chapter 11 opens up with ruby filling out her idol applications; she list her age as being 14.

however, we know that she's been filling out multiple applications for a good while now, and aqua has continually been sabotaging her. this might not even be an application from present day. speaking of aqua, he mentions right after this panel high school entrance exams:

in japan, students enter high school (upper secondary school) around the time they're 15-16 years old. of course, aqua says they're "coming up", not that they're soon or currently happening. they could be on the lower end of 15 around here, or the higher end of 14.

additionally, in the next chapter, aqua is seen wearing what looks to be a gakuran (basically, middle school boy's uniform; middle school takes place ages 12/13 to 14/15).

from this we can guess that around 10 to 11 years have passed since ai died; they're about 14 to 15 here.

if we pretend that their childhood in the manga also took place in 2010, that means present day oshi no ko takes place around 2020.

mystery solved! but i like digging deeper this is fun. so let's continue.

skipping to the next volume!

lovenow time! here they outright state aqua's grade; high school 1st year, aka 10th grader, aka like 15/16.

can't grab screenshots of where 15 years of lies was established because mangaplus hates me and has locked the relevant chapters behind an app >:(

have to stop it here bc i don't remember as much as i thought i did and i also don't have access to chapters 95 thru 114 (thanks mangaplus👍) so uh yeah thank you for sticking with my rambles. again this was just me logicking through stuff because i forgot how old they are & is for personal reference. next time i do a reread i'll add more ^_^

#oshi no ko #animanga

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 11 months

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heyyy:)) i love ur writings sm btw 💘 could i request angst followed by fluff with laurel x reader (both adults) where reader goes out with her friends for the day because it’s sunny and laurel is at work and she gets super annoyed and reader gets sick of her jealousy

Yesss, here it is!! I hope you like it, and sorry about the language mistakes!! (Thank you for reading my works)

The sound of jealousy

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/ Laurel Gates x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, fluff, angst

Word count: 2,320

Summary: It’s a sunny day, and you are bored, so you decide to spend the day with your friends at the lake. Laurel don’t like this, but you are sick of her jealousy

N/A: Requests are open!!! I love you all!! It’s quite obvious, but I don’t support toxic relationships, it’s just a fic. Don’t let anyone to make you feel sorry for something you didn’t do, or for going out with friends!!

“Thanks for getting me out of house, Brenda, I feel like I was going to have a boredom attack…” You sighed gratefully, grabbing your friend's shoulder.

It was a fantastic day of May and you were on holidays. Laurel, your girlfriend, was working and no matter how big that house was, with no one inside it was just a jail, a nice one, but a jail after all.

“How can you stay at home on such a good day?” Your friend answered, looking for a place on the grass to sit down. You sighed, setting your backpack down and spreading out a towel on the ground.

“Where are the others?” You asked as you took off your clothes.

“Oh, they went to Andy's to get something to eat,” Brenda replied, also staying in a bikini.

“Greasy wings and ribs, an ideal meal for a hot day,” you ironized, putting your clothes away and taking a last look at your phone.

“I have asked them to bring some salad, but I doubt they will listen to me,” your friend said, approaching the jetty.

“I hope not, I think they also fry the lettuce in there,” you said amused, before diving into the lake.

It was being a funny morning. You and your friends spending the day at the lake, you couldn't ask for more. The two boys who were missing arrived with the food. It was all laughter, splashes and board games.

“Hey, (Y/N), are you going out yet?” One of your friends asked, seeing you climb up the jetty. You mockingly stuck your tongue out at him and put the towel over yourself. You bent down to search your phone in the backpack. You had barely looked at it all day.

“Oh shit,” you said, putting a hand to your forehead. You had 4 missed calls from Laurel. To your horror, you remembered meeting for lunch during her free hour. You had completely forgotten about it. Your friend Brenda also came out of the lake and raised her eyebrows when she saw your broken face.

“Is something wrong?” She asked you, while she dried herself with the towel.

“I'm dead,” you answered, with trembling hands. “I’ve forgotten that I was meeting Laurel to have lunch.”

“Uh… I'm afraid there's going to be problems with mommy,” she told you, giving you a nudge. You looked at her furiously.

“I shouldn't have told you anything,” you protested, calling your girlfriend. “Laurel? Hi, hello.”

“(Y/N)? Where have you been? I have called you 4 times.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry, it's just... Well, I didn't have my mobile close to me,” you said, closing your eyes so she wouldn't get too angry.

“I called home and you haven't picked it up either... Where are you?”

“We, well, I'm not at home. Brenda called me this morning to spend the day at the lake and, well, I, I forgot about lunch... I'm sorry.” You were honest, you weren't good at lying, and you didn't like to do it either.

“At the lake…”

“Yeah.”

“With your friends…”

“Well, yes.”

“What friends?”

You rolled your eyes at that question. You knew how jealous she was, but she knew them, you didn't understand why that question.

“Well, you know, Brenda, Michael, Cody… You know them all, Laurel,” you said tired.

“Why haven't you told me anything? I’ve been waiting for you like an idiot for 1 hour.”

“I told you, I forgot,” you said, showing some weariness in your voice.

“Okay… I guess. I've finished classes, wait for me and I'll pick you up, okay?”

Everyone has flaws, and the worst your girlfriend had was that disproportionate jealousy. You could understand some arguments, especially if they had to do with seeing some past love, or being surrounded by hungry boys in a disco. But it had already been two years like this, and your immense patience was about to run out.

“No,” you said, taking a breath.

“No?”

“I'll stay a bit longer. I'll see you at home.”

After saying that, you hung up the phone. You were tired of always having to give absurd explanations and apologizing for things you hadn't done. You put the phone back in the backpack and went back to your friends.

“Eh, eh, don't start the “pokerRib” without me,” you said, sitting next to your friend.

“Has she gotten very angry?” Brenda asked.

“She'll get over it,” you said, picking up your cards.

The afternoon passed very quickly, and for a few hours, you forgot what would happen when you got home. You would argue, sure, and you tried to extend your return until you had no choice but to return home.

“Thanks for bringing me home, Mike,” you told your friend with a sigh and closing the car door. The bars of the house creaked as always. You would never get used to how spooky your house looked at dusk.

“I'm home,” you said timidly. There was light, so it was certain that she was already there. There was no answer. You peeked into the living room, where Laurel was reading a book, not even bothering to look at you. You cleared your throat to get her attention.

“I said I'm home,” you said crossing your arms. Your attitude wasn't the friendliest either.

“I've already seen you, (Y/N), I'm not blind,” Laurel answered, not looking at your face. You opened your mouth to say something, but decided to shake your head and turn away. You were going to leave the room, but you leaned against the door frame and gathered strength to face her.

“Fuck, Laurel, why are you that way?” You asked. Now she looked at you, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh, me? I think it was you who forgot our lunch,” she said, leaving the book on the sofa.

“I've already told you that I'm sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You stood me up to go with your friends to the lake. Couldn't you at least tell me? It would have been nice of you.”

“I didn't know, Brenda called me this morning and…”

“And?”

“I don't know why it bothers you so much. It was sunny, I was bored and my friends made a plan to spend the day at the lake. I didn't know I had to ask your permission,” you said, raising your tone.

“How do I know you're not lying to me? You could have gone out there with some bitch and that's why you haven't let me pick you up,” she hissed. Her gaze changed to one you unfortunately knew quite well.

“Maybe because I was having a good time?”

“Were you having a good time, (Y/N)? Tell me, which of all of them are you fucking with?” She asked sarcastically. Your body burned with rage.

“What the hell are you saying?” You asked, almost yelling.

Laurel got up from the couch and walked over to you dangerously, grabbing your clothes roughly.

“It seems that lately you forget a lot of things, (Y/N). You forget that you are mine, and that you owe me loyalty.”

You wriggled out of her grasp, breathing too fast to keep from screaming.

“I'm going to tell you something, Laurel and I'm only going to say it once: “I, am, not, your property!” You had already gotten completely out of control. “I'm your girlfriend, and I think I deserve a little respect from you.”

“You? Do you deserve respect? You are the one who constantly despises me,” she said.

“Do I despise you?” You asked rhetorically, while you pointed at yourself. “You know what? I'm sick of your jealousy,” you said, picking up your backpack again.

“I wouldn't get jealous if you didn't give me reasons to, (Y/N),” she hissed, making a feint to grab your arm.

“Reasons? I've gone to the lake to spend the day with my friends and…” you said, taking her arm away from her so that she couldn't grab it. “Look, it doesn't matter. I'm not going to put up with this anymore. I’m leaving.”

“Are you leaving?” She asked, lowering her tone a bit.

“Yes, I'm leaving. You can keep my stuff,” you said, noticing how the tears began to run down your cheeks. Her eyes began to shine as well, but she didn't say anything, she just nodded slightly.

You headed for the door, unable to help but sob. She was everything to you, but her jealousy was too absurd, and you were too tired of her obvious lack of trust in you. You couldn't understand your life without her, but at that moment it was your decision. Laurel ran after you, finally reacting to your words.

“Wait, (Y / N), don’t, don't go… I love you,” she told you, also sobbing.

“You’re lying!” You yelled. “You don't love me, the only thing you do is mistrust me all the time, you treat me as if I were something that belongs to you, and you don't even bother trying to believe me when I tell you that you are the only love of my life, or rather you were.”

“Please, please, no, don't go,” she begged you. “Forgive me…”

“It's always the same, and I'm fed up. Goodbye, Laurel.”

You walked out the door and slammed it, breaking the silence of that quiet spring night. You were determined to leave, but your legs gave out after taking just two steps. You looked towards one of the benches in the garden and awkwardly walked towards it, letting yourself fall on top of it.

A lot of things were going through your mind. If you recounted happy moments and moments like that, the happy ones won, but you also remembered with horror all your arguments, always for the same thing, out of jealousy. At first you tried not to care. You knew her past and you knew that being alone was her biggest fear, after all, she only had you. Perhaps having told her other kind of things it would be different, but that day your patience ran out, and you exploded.

You put the backpack on the bench and lay down, resting your head on it. It was a clear night and the stars were shining in the sky. You were lying there for a while, crying and thinking that your attitude was wrong, and hers too.

“I thought you were gone…” She was standing there, looking at you and disturbing your stargazing.

You sighed and sat up, shaking your head. None knew what to say. Her voice was the same one she used when she was sorry.

“Where am I going to go?” You asked ironically, wiping a tear with your hand.

“Forgive me, (Y/N), you're right…”She said, sitting next to you. “I know that I am very jealous, and that it does not make sense, I am very sorry. It's, it's just that I'm so afraid of losing you…”

“I know, Laurel,” you said, starting to feel more relaxed. “But you have to try to change that, please. I love you, and I would like you to trust me a little more...”

“I know it sounds like a cheap excuse, but I promise I'll try to change it. Maybe, maybe Dr. Kinbott can help me to get over my fears.

You widened your eyes. Many times you had suggested to her that a couple of sessions would do her good to begin to forget her traumas and her fears, but she had never listened to you. That was for you the definitive proof that she really wanted to change. You nodded and reached out to take her hand.

“That's great,” you said, intertwining your fingers with hers. “Hey, I'm also sorry I forgot that we were meeting.”

“Don't apologize, (Y/N),” she told you softly, caressing your cheek. She gave you a soft kiss on the lips and she stared at you very closely. “I love you, my love, I love you above all things… You are my whole life, (Y/N).”

“Me too… I Really do. You have to trust me, okay? And stop being jealous about everything. One day you’re going to piss on me to mark your territory,” you said, still with a certain reproach.

“Well, I can do it, if you want,” she said with a serious look and voice. You pulled away suddenly and made the most exaggerated disgust face of your life.

“Oh, my God, of course not! No, no, no...” You said with that almost comical expression. There was an awkward moment of silence. You were very shocked by those words and you looked at the redhead dumbfounded. A small laugh brought you out of that horrible mental image that your brain had created. Laurel was laughing. You frowned, but laughter entered you too.

Some soft laughter sounded on that bench.

“Did you believe it?” She asked you, trying to stop laughing. You crossed your arms and pretended to be outraged, but laughter prevented you.

“Shut up,” you said.

The laughter was disappearing and you stayed looking at each other, deeply. You decided to put your pride aside and lay down again, this time on her lap. You looked up at the stars again, while Laurel caressed you gently.

“I'm sorry, honey, I'm really sorry…” She sighed.

“It's okay, it's already okay.”

You couldn't say how long you were like this, but you wanted it to be forever.

“It's starting to get cold, honey,” she told you tenderly. You nodded feeling a chill and got up.

There was very little distance between the bench and the door, but it seemed like a long, calm walk, hand in hand.

“I hope you're hungry, because I've made enough dinner,” the redhead told you.

“Have you made dinner? Shit, now I'm leaving for sure,” you said, pretending to leave.

“Come on, (Y/N), don't be mean. I swear that this time I haven't burned it,” Laurel said, pouting.

“Okay, okay…” You said amused.

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #wednesday #laurel gates #ms thornhill #oneshot

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