#(//watch as the probability gods make it so the damn game is stuck at 2-2 forever)

[writingoneout]

Untilted Katamari Reflections

Preamble:

Content considerations for the following include:

Parental abuse

Bigotry

Worldly anxiety

You're welcome back another day if that's too much right now.

I.

It’s fall of 2015.

You and your virgin college friends drink shitty cocktails called the “Slutty Will Rodgers.” They’re just Pepsi rawdogged with indeterminate amounts of grenadine and Captain Morgan. When you bought the mixers a Wal-Mart stocker yodeled “OOOOoOoooOH, maKIN sOMe DRINKS?!?!” and you knew it was time to leave.

We Love Katamari is on the Telly. It’s a sweet, trippy game you first bought to cope with high school. On Dark Fridays at 1am, when your inbox was barren and your balls were full, you’d drive to the empty gym downtown and sprint six miles. Then you’d come home and replay the firefly level until you fell asleep with your pug.

Your college friends are bad at the game, so they pass the controller. You’re playing the underwater stage. A spaceman falls in the pond of people gunk and stacked crabs. It’s going really well if you’re honest. You point to the screen and say “this’ll be Florida if Trump wins.” See Fig. 1.

Figure 1: Rick Desantis has big plans for Disney.

Your friends don’t reply because they soon won’t be virgins and their tongues battle each other’s. It’s a different game they play, one with fuzzier rules, but greater industry respect. You wish the campus gym was open 24/7.

. . .

Your skills as the prince are not inherent. You first meet him in 2005, when your dyspraxic hands can barely tie a shoe. Your parents catch you lose shit for the Toonami review of Me and My Katamari. They buy it for Christmas, hoping to steady your nerves while your father’s in therapy.

Dr. Flam is a Neo-Freudian hitched to your mom’s guy, Dr. Flim. She’s deep in your dad’s dream journal and makes him watch movies like Cool Hand Luke to really reign in his ego. He gets the DVDs from the Netflix site, then through the mail. As a family you watch your dad’s therapy films and reruns of Inyuasha.

In the waiting room you barely navigate the sticky ball through Namco Bandai’s Satoshi Kon parade. See Fig. 2. You’ve only seen adults express anger verbally, so when you mess up you grunt a lot and let out those Leopold Butters Stotch swears like “crap,” “shoot,” and “gosh darn.” You’re not particularly self-aware, so you probably just say “god fucking damn it” a few times and don’t remember. Years later you realize there was probably a secretary behind the glass watching you do all this.

Figure 2: Bwahbwahwabhbawahbwaaaaah.

Sometimes there’s a girl in the room with you, just around your age. She’s stuck while Dr. Flim teaches her mom about what dream snakes mean for her fear of male puberty. That's what he did for your mom, anyway.

You think the waiting-room stranger is cute, but you won’t admit you like girls yet, especially not to yourself. To cope with the cognitive dissonance, you do your weird shit louder while refusing to make eye contact with her. If you get real stressed you crank up the main menu track and yell “ahhhhh that’s so relaxing” while the “nah nah nah nahs” play through your headphones.

At one point the girl stands against a wall and stares at you with her arms crossed. You bet she thinks you’re cool, but she’s probably just annoyed and hopes you’ll notice, or maybe just ask if she’s OK. It’s probably good you don’t talk with her. You might ask something stupid, like if she's seen the roach corpse in the stairwell. It’s been there for a year straight, isn’t that crazy?

For better and worse, you power through your little game alone. Every time you lose the King of All Cosmos beats, shoots, and belittles you. See Fig. 3. It reminds you of when your own dad shattered your Harry Potter wand over the kitchen counter because you dropped a mini pizza.

Figure 3: The King of All Cosmos offers little constructive advice, all things considered.

You fail quite frequently. Eventually you drop the game because it’s getting stressful and you have the power to relieve yourself of the situation—not the Freudian lobby, just your fake dad.

II.

It’s 2012. PlayStation Network uploads The Prince’s primeval outing: Katamari Damacy. Within, Padre Cosmotic flaps his gums over too much hooch then slams his dump truck ass through the better part of our solar system. He dislodges every recognized constellation and even the moon itself.

Cosmos sends Prince to Earth—the last brick left in the shitstorm—to make slop of our planet and bodies. With the slop space itself will be made anew. The Good Son does as he's told, and every living entity experiences euphoric ego death within the bulbous heaven of the Katamari.

As a Real Gamer Teen you lose a lot less in this one. You really go in and fix Fake Dad’s mistakes, no problem at all. This is why a year ago you hailed “gaming journalism” as your calling. You write clean and play tight; should keep the lights on. It’s the most concrete idea you’ve had since 7th grade when you outlined a YA novel called Tooth Pocket. Even you didn’t think Scholastic would buy that one, though. It was just too hot for the book fair.

One day you’re cranking through FFVI and your real dad swings by, mad you're young. He grills your ass and says “I bet you can’t even tell me the biggest thing happening right now.” It’s some real “What’s a gallon of milk cost?” shit, he could mean anything.

 Surprisingly, you can’t think of a good answer. You and your friends are actually pretty informed because John Stewart is still at the desk and y’all chime in every day. See Fig. 4. You also spend hours each week tearing through MSN slideshows in your Graphic Design class because the Photoshop takes five minutes. You’ve seen a staggering amount of the Syrian civil war.

Figure 4: Sometimes in Snapchat you draw glasses on your cat to make him look like Mitch McConnel. You wouldn't do that without this guy.

Still, you’re a little stumped. It’s the middle of a phenomenon native to moralist presidencies known as "a slow news week.” You actually ran out of war shit the other day and clicked through some slides about Pakistani wrestlers. The seniors who offered you Jack Daniels in the Whataburger lot saw it and laughed. They thought you were peeping dong in class. You really weren’t, but they didn’t believe you. They graduate certain you were bricked up in the Dell Lab over big guys in spandex.

“I don’t know,” you tell your dad.

He throws his hands behind his head, hard, like an orangutan chucking logs at a poacher.

“It’s the fucking carbon tax,” he yells. This comes as a surprise, you think, because that shit is last month’s news. It really didn’t go anywhere.

“Do you not pay attention because you don’t give a shit, or are you just a nihilist and think you can’t do anything?” You can tell in his eyes he thinks there’s a real answer. “Seriously, which is it?

You don’t remember what you said. You probably just stammered until he walked off.

A month later he picks you up from marching band. Your phone is dead, so he had to wait twenty minutes longer than anticipated while you found his car. He punches the rearview mirror until the windshield cracks then screams of how your birth kept him from New England.

III.

It’s 2016. A rockin’ MILF in the Psych department gets you really into Hamilton. See Fig. 5. Every day you wake up on the grind and blast “You Aaron Burr, sir?” through your shitty 7-11 cans. While cramming foreign language Quizlets and McGraw Hill Online you do this thing called “Hafilton.” It’s where rock up to “Nonstop” and quit listening just before Hamilton decides what he will stop is being a good husband.

Figure 5: Like Kojima, you know "MILF" is a mindset, not a factual inquiry.

It’s 2018. Your grades are notably better and you’ve snuck into the honors program. Like Hamilton himself, you really flourished at 19 and thought about running for office. You immediately abandoned this idea after remembering your allergy to recordings of your image or voice.

You cohabit with the Psych MILF, and she offers some advice: she’s really had her boots on the ground with this whole “clinical psych thing” and honestly, respectfully, she loves you, but dear God it might not be your scene. It’s taken a real toll on her and the friends, and she can’t imagine you going through that shit.

At 1am in your living room you boot up DOOM (2016) and listen through some Hamilton. Angelica is thirsty on main when you remember that you, yourself, could be a lawyer. You don’t have to run for Congress to fight the establishment. There’s just the common law, and it’s right there. You can just get your grubby little hands in that shit and work your magic.

. . .

It’s the last semester of undergrad. Your Western Thought professor says Hamilton wasn’t really a huge deal and really James Madison shat out the big parts of our faction-proof empire. Yes, there was, in fact, a civil war, but the caplock rifle worked it out. After the Federalist papers he has you read the Bill of Rights but no Supreme Court cases. There’s a lot of talk on negative liberties.

Just before finals, the learned doctor says your generation only has two things to worry about: the climate and the poverty. Yeah they’re big, he says, but they’re just two things. You’re crafty kids, smart as the framers, even.

. . .

The state decides law school is your jam and lets you come inside.

There’s the negative liberties but you actually read Supreme Court opinions when the big boys aren’t shaking fists for Valley Forge. They have you listen to Hamilton for context. You feel dirty. An LRW professor puts on the “I’m Just a Bill” video and your sectionmate with Ivy degrees gets really, really mad.

. . .

The Federalist Society has a comfy presence at your law school. Along with Big Oil they sling out free pizza to every Little Scalia with a rumbly tum tum.

On your way to class you hear what the pizza boys feel. They hate Europeans, those social democrats with the rotten armories and clumpy cash. The Euros, they think, give too much wiggle room for the mentally ill, and by that they mean they mean gay people and probably just women overall.

There are more than two things to fix, you think.

. . .

The pandemic hits. You and some pals start a Google Doc to stay afloat. It barely works. In the Zoom review for the property final your professor catches multiple people crying. "You don't have to be here," he tells them, “there are other jobs.”

. . .

A year passes. You’re in a niche public interest class you do all right with. The professor looks you and thirty-five others dead in the eye and says how sorry he is that law school is traumatic. You shed a single tear in your little window. You're pretty in the shit and haven’t worn pants to class in months.

Then public interest prof takes a big, big drag from his long, fat spliff. He spins his desk chair and baseball cap at the same time, never letting go of the joint.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s not your fault, really, but the world is fucked. It’s time to fix what your parents did.”

The next week he gives a practice exam where the best solution is to sell an old lady’s house to Nestlé.

IV.

It’s 2022. After throwing your whole gooch at it, you fail the bar exam.

You fall back hard into exercise. When you’re not slamming Barbri you’re at the gym binging curls and cranking the Chainsaw Man soundtrack. One night on the way to squats you finally hear “Black Parade.” Just like you, Mr. Gerry Wayland is stuck between global disrepair and the desire to write Funny Little Books.

You just started an FLB yourself, actually. It’s spin on a Story Break episode you love. In your version there’s a fucked up civil war horse that moves like a spider and is covered in bugs. Rich people kill the planet then the horse gets lost in space. It’s compelling, you promise. There’s body horror and pirates dressed like Gorton’s Fisherman. See Fig. 6 It’s about the horrors of the contemporary world state. It’ll be fun.

Figure 6: An untapped horror icon. Imagine blood contrasting that yellow.

Big problem, though: you remember rich people love hiking. There’s no grass on Mars, not that good shit anyway. Would they really fuck all of it?

You edit. In the last few years, the real breathless ones, the oligarchs cash their tab. A cartel, they think, could really muscle those stragglers, the tragically common. There’s one city left with both breathable air and refugees. They level it. The few survivors are spread amongst the stars, so their loves and languages may die.

. . .

It’s the middle of Bar Prep Round 2. You and the patient MILF see Hadestown in the Big City.

There’s a juke joint on stage flanked by devil trombones. A sad little guy slinks in from the janitor’s closet. His name is Orpheus and, just like you, he’s a sad, short writer who likes a lady so much it comes out weird. He has a vision, he says, for a little ditty. It’s compelling, he promises, and shit’s gonna change. His love is functional and realized, worth the investment of a hardened woman displaced by capital’s torture. She believes him.

You cry because you know where this goes.

It’s just a single tear.

Don’t worry.

Nobody sees.

. . .

There’s this game you like, by some corporate anarchists who hate themselves. They’re Scandinavian, from the spot in Tallin where you stopped for a cruise. Every gift shop there had swastikas and gas masks leftover from the bloody years.

In the game is a liberal yacht MILF. She thinks you’re stupid but someone’s helping with your gun, so you’ve got that on her. And yet, she pins you, re your whole writing thing. See Fig. 7.

Figure 7: She sucked, but it still hurt when she left.

Your favorite Supreme Court podcast says the ocean’s last hope is other countries. But those countries’ people cry to the Disco game, and their ministers also bought The End of History. You meet them on the subreddit. You're all geeked out, waiting for the tide.

. . .

It’s the era of desert cradles. God thinks you’re disgusting, so he sends his better kids with a memo: the flood was too much work on his end, it’s time for something different.

“Just keep walking,” he says.

Your skin bares his figure. So do the corpses. You little birds among billions, gassed out and screaming, move to clean.

V.

It’s 2023.

We Love Katamari is up on the PlayStation store. You sit with the cats and mow down some crabs. You don’t need it so much these days, but it’s nice.

There’s a Bar card in your wallet, just below your gym tag. There are two interviews in your Google Calendar. Good stuff might happen, hopefully soon. You crawl into bed and wrap an arm around your wife’s rib cage.

Everything matters and nothing is safe.

You are loved enough to sleep.

[whomstress]

Boxer Au Bunnydoll fic

Part 1/Part 2

Once again this au belongs to @burrotello

and nothing in this is canon unless stated otherwise by her!

Edit: Able belongs to @sm-baby

In a Weeks Time

It’d been a week since Jax and Ragatha’s spar. Jax chuckled to himself, finally figuring out what he wanted but making her go through a couple days of agonizing wait for the 'horrible punishment' he had set up for her. He'd been dragging it out on purpose, just to watch her squirm. Y'know for funnizes. She should have known that promising 'anything' was a mistake. However, to be fair, he was pretty sure she was actually going slightly insane from his constant harassment that week. 

He was strangely obsessed with the way she’d literally shift in her spot when he’d move closer to her, eyes unmoving from hers, giving her a vexing grin. She was so stubborn and annoyed so easily, ready at any moment for a comeback to his jabs. Whether they were good or not was another thing. At least most of the time she wanted to, she had a habit of angrily ignoring his comments and puffing her cheeks until they were flush, trying not to look at him. There was something to how someone always so sickeningly sweet and kind, looking at him like she wanted to bash his teeth in, ignited a fire in him he had for no one else.

However, ignoring him was a new tactic that got old fast. If there was one thing Jax hated, it was being ignored. This little tatic had slowly started about 2 weeks ago. She wasn't always consistent, with him getting just enough under her skin to have her yelling his name by the end, like always. But then she really ampped it up. He’s not sure if she'd been doing that tai-chi and meditating mini-game she’s always suggesting for people to calm down, but for almost a week straight, the most she’d send was a second-long glare or a scoff without even looking at him.

Rude for one, but frankly unacceptable. No one ignored Jack Rabbit. Especially someone who was way below his league. She should be lucky he gives her attention at all! He’s not sure why this pissed him off so much, but watching her laugh and spar with everyone else—not that he wanted to spar with her anyway, while she’d barely give him the time of day—made his blood boil. She’s always going on about how the humans were a “team” and they only had each other to lean on, and he could come to her for anything. In fact, wasn't she the one to promise him with that damn "sweet as sugar' smile when he first realized he was stuck here, and she now ignores him? Call him a hypocrite, but he hated a liar. 

Well, he wasn’t going to let that slide. So he made her life hell until she literally ran away, and when he cornered her where she always went to hide, he finally got her to fight like he knew she could. And he was ready to fight until someone bled. He just didn’t think it would be him.

Lil Lady, his ass. Ladies did not talk or kick like they were trying to break a godamn tree in half. She was stronger than she let on, if the bruise the size of a baseball on the back of his head said anything. So though Jax enjoyed watching her jump in his presence, he wondered why, if she was so worried about what was coming, did she seem to be following him like a damn shadow? 

It wasn’t until today, when he was the last to join the characters in the gym, did it ever really matter to him. Ragatha was already there, probably the first one there, the goody-two-shoes. Started eyeing him like a damn hawk the second he started stretching before a training session. It was odd as hell, to say the least, but it’s not like he minded. He was used to being stared at. Just not by her. The strangest part is that it made him hyper-aware. Ai’s would swoon over him all the time from him just flexing, but this was Rags. What would a girl like her even be impressed with?

He had to backtrack in his own mind for that thought. ‘Oh God, not this shit again. What does that matter!? He did not now or ever care about what beat-em-up Barbie thought’ He decided to literally shake the thought off, yanking his head back and forth. But he bent his neck a little too far, pulling straight across the sore bruise and stitches, and let out a loud curse of pain when he felt a scab on the end pop open. It was that instant that everything clicked. She ran to him like he just got shot in the gut, nearly tripping on her way to get to him. She grabs his face carefully, but firm in her hands. “Jax! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Please tell me your alright.” She looks like she’s going to cry again, but her eyes are so genuine as she looks back at him after thoroughly assessing for any damage. So delcate with a warm touch, like he was made of porclien or some shit. 

He was frozen solid with his face in her hands as she looked for any signs of hurt. His brain has officially shortcircuited at this point. He really should knock her off or headbutt her like he said he would if she touched him again, but his brain is actually static at the moment. He's completely zoned out and locked in at the same time. She gives a light squeeze on one cheek; he knows she does this in a simple comforting gesture. She’d do it for anyone, but it still makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “Maybe you should rest today, yeah?”

In the simple sentence, everything comes back in an instant, and his features turn harsh enough for her to know she said something wrong. Well, at least in his eyes. So she let go of his face and stepped back. He stood up once again, towering over her, but she didn’t squirm this time, maybe because he actually looked angry that she had her guard up, ready to fight if she needed to. In a flash of thought, it made him realize that when she squirmed under him, it wasn’t because she was threatened by him. If he wasn't so pissed, he’d probably have an aneurysm trying to decode that thought. 

Why did she have to do stuff like this? He gets it; she feels it's her fault and all, but c'mon, no one was ever this nice to him. No way was she this damn caring. No one was. Everyone had a trick up their sleeve. He didn't need her babying him like his damn mom. Hell, his own mom didn’t care this much! Neither of his parents did, and it was for good reason, he told himself. He’s been fighting as long as he can remember. It’d been drilled into his brain that nothing was worth losing, especially to those below you. He always needed to win by any means necessary. His father made him finish his competition with a broken ankle when he was 10, and his ankle still can’t bend a certain way without spazzing. And you know what? He won his weight-class nationals the next year! Only idiots and weaklings didn’t believe the same. Which is why Ragatha had always angered him so much.

If you weren’t fighting to win, why fight at all? He did everything to keep his place, and he was proud, like he should be. Ragatha, on the other hand, purposely lost to keep her place. If she started trying right now, she could easily be top 20, and if she started from when she first got here, he wouldn’t doubt she’d be around top 10. She'd still have no shot against him, of course. Even when she worked out, it was on her legs. Something she wasn’t allowed to use outside of sparring or minigames. What was the point? She drove him insane just by being little miss empath. Her ‘I care more about others than myself’ act was nauseating, and worse of all, she had the gull to think he needed any of it.

“You think I’m that weak enough that a little cut will stop me from a fight? If you wanna be helpful, why don't you stand over there with your twin, punching bag?” Ragatha's face turned sour; she hated that nickname most of all, and he knew it from the way he saved it when he wanted to be really nasty. She thought she could make him look weak enough in a gym full of enemies. Yes, everyone who wanted his belt was his enemy. “I could rip out these stitches right now and still win the match.”

A gloved hand reached back, and her instincts flinched her body forward to stop him, worry in her eyes. But her glare returns harder at the sight of a scoff and a quick "pathetic." She should've known he wasn't really going to do it. He’d already been suspended from fights until now, and you can’t go into the ring with an open wound. He was just messing with her again, but over his own health was a new one. By now, everyone in the gym had stopped and looked at them. Pomni was looking worried and ready to jump in. Gangle and Zooble were on the edge of their seats, waiting for Ragatha to hit Jax again. When they found out she cracked his head open even by accident, they seemed genuinely upset not to see it happen live. 

Which was concerning on Ragatha’s side of things, but she wasn't giving a show today. She wasn’t playing anyone's game, especially Jax. “Listen, Dollface, if you wanna play nurse so badly, I know there’s a pretty little outfit for that in the prop closet.” Ragatha scoffed. Ah, yes, the casual sexism a classic for her from Jax. He never cared about anyone’s personal details, but when he wanted to piss someone off, she swore he had a list of insults ready to go from every conversion he'd had. He moved in again, obviously trying to taunt her into hitting him. “I know hard work is foreign to your little rookie brain, but you think I really got where I am by dumb luck?”

He was so ready to watch her lose it again, break down, and maybe even shed some tears. She was trying to keep an even face, but he could see the slight flush of embarrassment the more he talked. Red was a good color on her, and he’d have to find a snappy way of saying that if this last comment didn’t work. Jax watched her gitty; he was completely focused on her, ready for a swing or kick. He’d been itching for round two, and the last one was way too short.

Ragatha was furious. He’d been worrying/messing with her all week while she patiently waited for this stupid prize he ‘won.’ Now he was trying to embarrass her in front of everyone? No way. For once, this was ending the way she wanted! Ragatha had always wanted to say something to knock him down to size; she’d tried before but always fumbled her words or they were alone, which only ended in another snide remark. But the way he ended things left a perfect opening—a set-up she’d dream about.

Here goes nothing. Her face turns into her best condicending smile, and she watches him raise a puzzled eyebrow before she starts to laugh in his face and says, “Well duh, Jack Rabbit” she emphasizes his name with a pinch and shake of his cheek, “Everyone knows that! Dumb luck and cheating it’s practically in your playbook! How about you do us a favor and tell us something we don’t know?”

Did he hear right? There is no way that just came from Ragatha; can Zooble posses people now? Her laugh was one thing, but when it’s followed by Gangle and a booming Zooble, he is suddenly very aware of what she just did. He backs up and looks around the gym. Pomni is trying to hide her giggles, and even Kinger is present enough for once to have an amused smile. Jax suddenly feels hot and sweaty and catches his face in the gym mirror, flushed and embarrassed like a damn school girl. He tries to tell everyone to shut up, but when Zooble points out his blush, laughs start all over again.

He hasn’t laughed this badly in years, and he swore it’d never happen again. So why, of all people, was the fight club's biggest sweetheart making him look like a damn clown? He tried to quickly make up a comeback, but his words fell flat on his tongue. His eyes were scattered around the room. Who would he even say it to? Jeez, is this what he does to people? Is that why they're all laughing like they've been holding it for years? All of it just made him more angry, and he felt his thoughts slowly centering on the one person who started it, who was even able to do it when everyone else had at least tried and failed before.

Ragatha was completely unaware of Jax’s building focus; she was still giggling a little but started to feel bad at how everyone kind of ganged up on him. Yeah, he deserved it, but she didn’t think it’d go on this long, and Jax seemed like he was in real distress. She thought of calling out to them or him when he turned around to face her head. His eyes were so intense on her, and he was obviously trying to intimidate her, but his face betrayed his thoughts. She hadn’t gotten a really good look at him before this, and wow, it was something.

The flush covered most of his ears, his whole face, and a little down his neck. He was sweating big droplets, even though he didn’t work out, and though she could tell he was furious, his expression couldn’t hide his nervousness. He looks so self-conscious right now; it’s an expression she's never seen on him. She didn’t even think he could make it. Almost vulnerable. Despite a rabbit body being so human, He looked normal. For once, not pretending to be better than anyone but just as flawed as the rest of them. Able to get embarrassed and tongue-tied. For once, she felt a real connection to him as another person, even though she didn't want to. She had to admit that with his rabbit ears to the side and the blush covering his face, he actually looked kind of “cute.”

Even Ragatha knew her mistake the moment it came out of her mouth. It was less than a whisper, but she guessed those rabbit ears weren't just for show because his ears shot up, his eyes wide, and his whole body went rigid. He was suddenly standing way too close for her comfort, and she took a step back, squirming under his stare once again. His face turned into an unreadable expression, and she felt like she needed to apologize despite how uncomfortable she was, so she forced herself to take a breath and look into his eyes but couldn’t get any other words out than a soft “Jax-.” 

“THAT’S IT!” He yelled, throwing up his arms in outrage, making her jump at least half a foot in the air. He turned back around to the other characters. “F*#& ALL OF YOU! I’M OUT!” He said loud enough that it sounded like a mic was going off, “AND YOU!” Jax turns to point a finger in Ragatha’s face and says, "You're coming with me!”

Before Ragatha can even have the chance to refuse, he has her live up to her name by tossing her over his shoulder like a ragdoll, holding her legs from letting her escape as he quickly strides away. She starts screaming to put her down and beats her fist at his long back. Letting out an embarrassing yelp when this only makes him quickly drop her lower down his back before adjusting his grip on her legs again as she now has to grip on to his waist not to fall. The other characters are silent now, and they watch them get further away until they turn the corner. Pomni feels an ache in her dropped jaw and is about to ask if they should go after them before Zooble calls out, “50 bucks; he’s dead by the morning.” 

Gangle pitches in, “Pssh, please. You see that look on his face? 70 bucks they f#&(. ”

“Jesus, Gangle. That’s nasty. Unlike you, Ragatha is in class.” Zooble cringes. “You’re on.”

Suddenly Able pops out of thin air, like the sound of money summoning him from deep in the code of the fight club. He manifested directly in front of Pomni, making her trip back straight on her butt, and she's beginning to think that she is warming up to Caine the longer she's even around other Ai's. “Do I hear a bet? I know my player more than anyone else, and I can guarantee that he is upset enough to use this little deal of theirs to make all his problems hers and all of yours."

"Wait, hold on, how do you know that?" Pomni interrupts.

Able turns his card head around without his body and, in a more robotic voice than usual, says, "Oh dear, I know lots of things." An errie glare without a source light flashes across his card, "Lots of things..."

He quickly turns back to Zooble and Gangle and says, "ANYWAY, I don’t know much about human feelings. However, I do know Jax is horrible at them! Word of the wise, starlights, go for broke!”

Pomni stands there stunned, watching Zooble consider the point and Gangle curse out a censor for not thinking the same. Was this really happening? Where are they seriously gambling on their friends like this? “Guys betting on each other's everyday lives doesn’t seem ethical.”

The other characters look at each other and echo, “Welcome to the fight club.”

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can I get a long haired embry imagine 🥵

Aight so irl kiowa gordon was like 19 during this, but in the movies, he's like 16. SO IN THIS STORY HOMIE LOOKS LIKE THIS GIF AND HE IS 20 AND WE ARE PASSED BREAKING DAWN PART 2.

You're eating your popcorn, focused on the movie playing on your TV in front of you. It's raining outside pretty badly. You're not used to it constantly raining. Since moving to Washington, there's been a lot of getting used to. Luckily, you've met a few friends already. Even someone you really like!

A knock on your door startles you. You slowly get up and look out the peephole. There's Embry Call. You sigh of relief that it's just him and open the door. He's soaked! "Embry! What are you doing?" You grab his arm and pull him inside. He chuckles at you and stands in your entryway, watching you shut the door. "Well?" You ask and cross your arms. He shrugs and smiles. "I was just at work and then leaving, I decided to come see you." He says. You shake your head and step up to him. "Embry, you're probably freezing. Look, I can get you fresh clothes." Your hand touches the bottom of his shirt to lift it up. His eyes are on you, which makes your eyes meet his. You instantly blush, realizing you're trying to take off Embry's shirt. "Sorry." You back away. "I didn't mean it like that. Just, uh, worried." You stumble on your words. He licks his lips and raises an eyebrow at you. "I have clothes if you want them." You look away from him. "I never get cold." He says. You chuckle at his manly ego and look up at him. "Em, everyone gets cold." You laugh, shaking your head. He sighs and then takes his shirt off. "Touch me." His face is serious. You're in shock. You're stuck. But, your body does as he says like you always do because listening to him is natural. You're safe. You're comfortable. You step right in front of his body and reach your hand up to touch shis abs. He does feel very warm. And God, his abs feel so hard. His face is inches from yours when you look up at him. You cough awkwardly and then step back. "How are you so warm?" You ask. "If I tell you something... really crazy.." He laughs at the end, "will you believe me?" His face goes back to being serious. You do trust him. You trust him and his people. You met him and Jacob while you were out and about trying to find something to do in your new area. After that, you haven't left Embry's side much.

"Yes." You breathe out. "The tattoo." He points to his shoulder. "We all have them. The shifters. Our tribe, we come from wolves. We protect our people from danger." He says. Embrys a wolf? "Wait, huh? You and your friends are wolves?" You ask with a deeply confused tone and face. "Yes." He replies. "Uh? What's the danger?" You ask, looking around. "Vampires." He gulps. "What? That's crazy." You reply. He nods his head and sighs. "Trust me. I know. Jacob has his own pack. His wife, Renesmee." He looks at you. You nod your head. "She's half human half vampire." He says. Your knees get a bit weak, so you sit at the dining table. He sits down next to you. "You're the only outsider I can tell because you're my soulmate."

-------

Jacob shoots the 8 ball in the hole, winning the game. "Damn it." You hiss. Renesmee and Embry laugh. "We told you! Jake's a beast." Embry grabs onto your waist and pulls you into him. You lean your head back and look up at his face. He's smiling at you, but you turn around, lean up, and press your lips on his. First kiss.

You're a little tipsy with the other imprints. You, Embry, Renesmee, and Jacob are in the game room at Jake's house.

The kiss shocks him, and he pulls away, chuckling. "Damn, how drunk are you?" He asks. Jacob laughs at Embry. "Dawg, even if she's sober, she wants you." Jacob sets all of the colorful balls back in the middle of the pool table. Embry bites his lip and kisses your cheek. "When you're sober, we'll come back to this." He says.

You wake up in a room you haven't seen before. But the smell automatically tells you where you are. The bed is small with brown bedding. Dream catchers fill the walls as well as some band posters. You know this is Embry's house. You're in his bed. You stand up and walk out of the room, not really sure where to walk to. You've never been in his house. You turn and walk into the living room. "Embry is sitting up on the couch, but his head is leaned to the side, and he's snoozing. His feet are propped up on the table in front of him. "Embry?" You ask. His eyes open, and he looks at you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to steal your bed." You giggle. He yawns and shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." You sit down next to him, remembering that you kissed him. "Embry?" You ask. "Mhm?" He stands up, grabbing his keys. "Was it okay that I kissed you?" You look up at him. "It's only okay if you plan on doing it again and for the rest of your life." He smiles. Your cheeks burn red, and you stand up. He looks over your face, and you reach around, pulling his hair back behind his shoulders, pushing some strands behind his ears. "I would do it again, but I need to brush my teeth and shower." You giggle. He rolls his eyes, biting his lip and smiling. "I'll take you home, baby." He says. He said it so naturally, like you shouldn't have questioned it, but you caught it really quick.

You step out of your bathroom and see a shirtless Embry, laying on your couch. "Up." You tell him. He sits up, and you sit next to him. "Floor." You demand. He raises an eyebrow and sits on the floor between your legs. You start playing with his hair. His hair is super soft and beautiful. "Am I your baby?" You ask. "Yes." He replies. You run your fingers through his hair, up his scalp, and pull back slightly so he's looking up at you. "Kiss me." You order. He doesn't hesitate to grab your face and kiss you. His lips are soft and warm. Love is pouring into your mouth. You pull him up. He gets on the couch next to you, pulling your body up on his lap. You pull away and look into his brown eyes. "Embry Call. Claim me." His eyes widen, and his grip tightens on your back. "As you wish."

[13leaguestories]

So I find out I cant post this long a message here... what is this, twitter?! So here it is in parts I guess.

So yea, honestly, this was a lovely read, lovely probably not being the best descriptor but now that I had a few days off of it I think on it most fondly. I read the first two seasons in less then three days, with like 2 hour sleep in between, swapping saves on my various devices to take it to toilet and bath with me even. I did mean to get more sleep but reading in bed on my notebook turned out to not work the same as when im trying to learn that way and actually made me genuinely more awake. It really is like watching an interactive supernatural TV show, if you got the imagination for it anyway. I love the worldbuilding, the story, the characters with their highs and lows, some moments had me genuinely taking a moment to just step away and breathe. Having to decide between going after Bredley or leaving crying Chris alone on the stairs really had me in a tizzy. And this is probably the quickest I have ever been reading, the closer we got to finally getting Sydero out of Hell the faster my bleary eyes worked. Genuinely it provded me with few dozen hours of barely existing outside of your story, its been one of the best experiences I had with "gaming" or stories in general, since I first discovered proper rpgs way back when. Im actually quite new to the IF genre, tho I did read interactive novels when I was younger, but find out about these works has been absolutely mindblowing and the amount of work and passion that goes into the numerous titles out there is eyewatering. The third day I had to go to work and I was nearly useless, things falling out of my hands, taking wrong keys and literally forgetting where I was going and who I was speaking to as I was absolutely stuck in my head thinking out imaginary scenarios and wondering how it will continue. Your work has got most of the values that are important to me when it comes to the story, mainly the characters being very real, nobody being stupid or inconsistent just for story purposes, things just make sense and grow in velocity quite naturally. The niggling annoyances that usually mount up in my head untill I cant enjoy a story anymore are nearly completely absent here (tho I could find some if I dug hard enough :P). But most importantly it didnt make me feel like im just reading/playing a game story, I never thought that things will work out if I just pick the right dialogue, the delight of being unsure, frustrated and incredibly eager to get over the next hurdle while simultaneously being affraid of it, because I was terrified of what could happen to the characters I have grown to love has been there throghout. Having this balance, where I still felt like anything can happen and nothing is off the table even dozens of hours in is absolutely singular for me. It gives the moments of peace and just friendly dialogue immense weight and despite the painfully slow progress in the relationships (especially with Sydero, god you sadist!) it all felt properly paced because of the nonstop shitstorm englulfing the cast. The moments of levity are just as valuable as the intense ones. It kept me at the edge of my seat, desperate to try my best and it served to only endear me further to the people around my Roe, whether I innitially liked them or not. Even if some of the moments are just illusions, like the one with Bredley and Chris, it doesnt make them any less impactful and the fact that I didnt believe it to be an illusion at all means you did something special there.

If you want to read the rest of the ask then it's below the keep reading, so no one can accuse me of leaving shit out lmfao.

First off damn, thank you. Like, this was a lot to write and I appreciate you taking the time to do so and send it to me.

So to answer your questions first. Sorry, bud, but Sydero is in fact aromantic and though I understand there are certain things people may find themselves upset about, that's not something I'm going to budge with. If you don't continue that romance then I do understand, but I hope that if you do, you find that she is still every inch of awesome.

I don't know if the 'happy ending' part was a question or not but I've answered this before so I don't have a problem restating it, it's a bittersweet ending really. Of course there are multiple endings, ranging from bittersweet to literal world ending but that's up to the player of course. There is no true way to make this story just 100% happily ever after and make it make sense which is another thing I don't do lol.

So ... the thing is if we're talking about end of season three then ain't nobody gonna agree lmfao. And [REDACTED] can't agree cos [REDACTED] is now [REDACTED]. Don't you love [REDACTED]. But you said shitstorm so I'm going to comply lmfao!

Chris: "Yes, what am I saying? Fuck yea, we're saying fuck it to everything else so why not. Let's fucking get married ... but you gotta do this right, get on the knee babe."

Sydero: *stares at you, waiting for you to say sike. When she see's it's not happening she walks away.*

Zillah: "We might not survive the day and you want to get married? Is that even possible, I'm dead. Sure, let's get married."

Rahim: *opens his mouth, closes it. Opens his mouth, closes it. Inhales very deeply* "You are so lucky I love you. So damn, fucking lucky."

Amari: "Finally, I was beginning to think neither of us was brave enough to ask the other. Wanna see my wedding scrapbook? Because if we're doing this, we're doing it right."

Chanara: "You are the craziest person I have ever met." That's it, that's her answer.

BONUS - POLY

Amari: "AH, of c-"

Sydero: "No."

Amari: "But Syd!"

Sydero: *walking away* "No."

Its stories like this, with people like this that make me genuinely wish for happy endings, I am sucker for them but usually in gaming they sort of just come about by virtue of you playing, of doing things that are marked with the correct color or just being good enough at shooting things or mashing buttons. They are not without worth by any means but its not at the same level as when you want to be able to do what you can to provide it for the characters because you believe it wont happen otherwise, these people deserve an actually good outcome and I seriously hope to god you aim to provide it :)

So yea, despite my absolute gushing just now, this amazing work also has the absolutely most damning and worst any good story can have… its unfinished and despite everyone telling you its ok to take your time and obviously your health is the most important thing, I will be a bitch and tell you. Get your ass back into gear (please). Dont flake out on us. I went back and purchased the seasons on itch and will continue to support you so whether you have a full storyboard and just lost the apetite to write or if you are just making it up as you go and need to find some inspiration know that many of us are waiting (desperately) to see it through.

With that being said, just a few more comments/questions. First off, is there a difference in the interaction with Sydero if you do the romance and her relationship as well as can be done vs if its just okay? I intentionally didnt have any preconceptions and fought my mind viciously at forming some romantic fantasy notions of her "rescue", but still I would love for there to be acknowledgment of the possiblity of feelings. Im even thinking of writing up a short scenario of it, with just some small changes to make it a little but more fulfilling for the romantics like myself out there. It wont be quality, but it would provide at least myself a little bit of peace of mind.

Speaking of peace of mind and romances. Please, oh god for crying out loud please, do not make Sydero aromantic. After not liking her much innitially (unsuprisingly) the distance did make the heart grow fonder and my Roe genuinely made it his main mission to get her out of there and closer to her. I actually stopped playing at chapter 3 of the third season after their conversation, partially because I needed that break and partially because I thought this chapter was a good stopping point before you get back on top of it. But mainly because it just kinda threw me for a loop and I wanted to step away for a bit to let myself cool down. Sydero, imo out of everyone deserves some sort of happiness the most, the fact that she doesnt really know what that would be makes it even more crucial. So seriously, with the plethora of possible explanations dont let the aromantic one stand, I mean cmon, what kind of sadist would give us a romance with person incapable of it, you wouldnt do that to us right?! There needs to be a happy ending for this and when I say happy ending, I mean the whole disney fairytale wedding one with deers running around and birds singing, pissed, gagged Sydero wearing runic cuffs in middle of a devil trap about to go full demonic with a paper clip glued to her forehead saying "I do" type of ending :D

Now see, this is the kind of suspense I was talking about. Because I genuinely dont know if you aim to provide a happy ending here, Sydero may genuinely be too messed up or simply that type of person and those of us who chose to put our feelings into that relationship might just be screwed. I hope not, that would be devastasting but I still believe that very little is off the table (tho this needs to be!). Its a great, yet frustrating and painful feeling.

And now, for a prompt, because I absolutely do not have an off button and I have seen people asking you and loved your answers. So, what would each of the Supertition RO reaction would be to a genuine proposition of marriage, to make it less stupid, this would be at, lets say, end of season three level of relationship. Im curious at the levels of shitstorm this would cause :D

Thats it, so once more, thanks for writing this awesome piece of entertainment, I hope you are doing well and will do even better and all the best wishes from me.

Amari best girl. Im out.

[arcielee]

House of the Dragon tag game!

This was created by the lovely @jotterjots 💜 Thank you for the tag!

Rules: Answer the following questions, then tag any and all people you think might enjoy participating. 

Tags: If you see this on your Tumblr dashboard, consider yourselves tagged. 

see original post here if you want to play :)

Who's your favorite character? What draws you to them?

My initial response is Aemond Targaryen (surprise, surprise). The book and show portrayal have some similarities, but I really loved how Leo Ashton and Ewan Mitchell’s characterization. There was something relating to how Leo carried himself, Aemond just weary but ready to defend Aegon, how he was ridiculed. You have this sense of relief when he finally claims Vhagar that you forget the implications until that group of cunt ass kids rallied against him. Then you see that want for revenge, how it shapes and molds him into this man that is just...

Sigh. 💜

Anyway, after him it would Ser Criston Cole, as this man is so damn petty with his hatred it halted his aging and I’m here for it.  

What's your favorite episode of the season?

I loved the despair of episode 8, where we finally got to see the key players for what was to come. The build up, the tension that lead to this brief moment of serenity and then... the dinner scene, where it just went downhill so fucking fast. 

What is your favorite line from the season?

I have two. The first belongs to Daemon: “You cannot live your life in fear, or you will forsake the best parts of it.”

And second is to Jerrel Bracken, and it makes me giggle: “The princess has a dragon, you dumb cunt.” 

Which actor's portrayal is your favorite?

Of course the obvious answer is Ewan Mitchell. I binged everything he has been in and really enjoy that even though he had similar mannerisms used in each roll, he seems to adjust to fit whatever character he is playing and I think it’s fucking brilliant.

Matt Smith plays a cunt like no other. As much as Daemon makes my skin crawl, I do enjoy watching him. 

Olivia Cooke. 💜 Watching Alicent’s transition from the tepid daddy’s girl to girlboss was amazing. She believed in her convictions and squared off to Otto, to her husband, and we saw glimpses of how she played the Game of Thrones, and I really loved it. 

Which character would you most want to be stuck on a deserted island with?

I mean...

But for real, probably Ser Criston as he seems low key a more practical option, as I could trust him to be able to scrounge for food, kill whatever wild hog might attack, things like that. 

Name a minor character you want to know more about!

I would love more insight on Arryk and Erryk OR, since they kept him alive, if Ser Harrold Westerling came back in a blaze of glory, that’d be nifty. 

Who's character arc are you most interested to see continued, for better or worse?

May the gods pity me, but Aemond. I am curious their interpretation of his story and am super excited to see it unfold. 

Who's your most anticipated new character of Season 2?

Cregan Stark, but this is mostly because of my Mushroom theory of him, but I already know HBO is a bunch of cowards and would never. And Nettles 💜 I really hope they show how she gets her dragon.

Which is your favorite dragons of the ones we saw?

Vhagar. 

I hate that we missed out on some Fire & Blood bonding between Aemond and this she-dragon, but I really loved how they showed the sentient side when she was bonded to Laena. It was beautiful and heartbreaking 💜

What's your favorite relationship from this season? (romantic, platonic, antagonistic- whichever!)

I loved Rhaenyra and Harwin Strong. I really loved the snippets of him knitted throughout, his admiration for Rhaenyra just as she was. There was also so much in the scene after she gave birth, how he was quick to help in any he could, just to be able to touch her, to be there for her. And when he held Joffrey?

Like, goddamn, I love this man so much 😭

Bonus- Fandom appreciation:

Link one or more of your favorite pieces of fanart! (Have you reblogged it already? Consider reblogging it again! Do NOT repost)

Please go and look/follow @lonnson @4yvle1 @azperja @cyeco13​ Just amazing, talented, wonderful pieces they have shared.💜

Link one or more of your favorite fics! (Same deal as above!)

I have a fic recs link on my blog.💜 I also have a series called Interview With a Writer where I get to talk to the talented brains that created some of the best pieces I have found (so far) on Tumblr. 

Link one or more of your favorite gifsets! (^^Same)

The talented Miranda (@aegonx​) who did this and this and this gifset that I love (just to name a few, but she is so creative and talented; her gifsets for this fandom are some of my favorites. She did a GoT request for Rhaegar and Lyanna, and I just love it so much!💜

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep 42 Pt 2: We are All Warhammer Minis

Last we left off, Bakura just reminded Yami that he did, in fact, invite him to play a Shadow game, and then Yami just kinda never realized the game had started. Yami was warned, Bakura explains, It’s not like he wasn’t told exactly what would happen.

Which is a weird ass thing to say, when it like involved Bakura crashing Yami’s funeral.

Like Yami was supposed to DIE in that tomb, right? Like he was gonna find peace and happiness and then peace the hell out of Yugi’s haunted bean. But instead of perma-dying, he’s freakin stuck here. With Bakura. For the end of his days. His very worst frenemy. The ultimate trap. What a weird way to hang out with Bakura, getting trapped like this.

It is interesting how the Alexander the Great arc actually does play into this arc. Shada did make a model of the past for them to fight in, and now Bakura’s doing the same except way more dramatic because unfortunately it alters history.

(read more under the cut)

Don’t think too much about what would even happen to Yugi and friends if you damage or move anything from 5000 years ago. Like I’m pretty sure you can knock over a few cans of ancient Egyptian paint and just Greece would have ceased to exist. That’s how tenuous changing the past seems to me, if I have learned anything from Twilight Zone.

The fact that without Yugi existing in the future, would mean Yami would not have been able to alter the past: don’t think about that. Shadow Realm means we don’t think about that. Shadow Realm does what it pleases.

That or this show is going to split off into hundreds of multiverses just like Marvel and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.

Also, we are informed that the rainbow filter is not so much of a Aknadin technique as it is a Bakura’s busted hourglasses technique.

Also it took me 2 watches of this episode, making the caps, editing this out, to realize that he has the hourglass sideways. The three hourglasses are just hourglasses in three directions, sand going down, sand going up, or sand staying still. Holy crap, y’all, long covid: my brain took way too long to realize that.

But we got there!

Did I go “wtf” when Joey was like “ah, I could get used to this!” Yes, yes I did.

At that point, Zorc shows up to give Aknadin a wish, I guess. Like a genie.

And then he was immediately doused in purple gatorade.

You may be wondering “hey, but I thought you can’t make Zorc because Yami locked Zorc away when he lost his own damn name” and don’t worry, Bakura already thought about that.

I guess the function of the last hourglass is “I put a gun to the plot and told it to step forward or I swear to Gods, I will shoot.” He can bend future time one single time at his will, and waited this long to use it. Probably because youknow, it’s Bakura, he’s not going to choose any time to do this but the very rudest time to do so.

Back at Casa Pharaoh, Tristan has made it to the chamber of legs. Notice how Yami’s Dad is the only guy who was like “Hell no, I’m not shaving for my portrait, just draw me in a robe.” Just like me every time I decide to wear tights with a skirt.

Turns out that yes, Yami deleted his own name just everywhere. The curse he got cursed with was very effective.

And back at Aknadin and his awkward family reunion, Seto is kind of over having a family and it’s only been like less than a minute of having one.

No, they did not have a moment of “Wait! Yami is my cousin???” which like, asking your Son to kill his cousin sure is moment. Also the moment of realizing your cousin is 2 feet shorter than you and trying to figure out how that works.

And now, Seto’s Dad looks like this guy:

It’s a look. It’s a card somewhere.

So, in a moment that was hard to cap, Aknadin decided to blast everyone in the face with a plasma beam, and out of the clouds comes Hassad, here to block to blows and take a fireball the chest, like a trooper.

Now if you don’t remember Hassad, he was a hallucination that Pharaoh had in the cave before he saw himself as a literal baby and was like “yikes” and left the cave. Turns out, Hassad is the protector of the Pharaohs, and is finally here to do his damn job.

After Yami, uh, already died once, but youknow what? Better late than never, Hassad!

But unfortunately, this means we’re back at square one, that’s right, it’s time to duel again!

But like, next episode. don’t worry. It’s next episode.

phew.

Like seriously Yugi has done more damage to planet earth than most anime children. Power to him.

And then as I was capping I realized something about Dartz, and I said “I’ll find a way to organically fit this into the commentary” and maybe if I had a better brain I would have done that. Instead, an aside about Dartz’s season that I keep thinking about this season with Bakura.

Because never forget Dartz walked into Cairo, saw Yami, and was like “neat, I’m gonna steal his power” and then saw Bakura and then immediately turned around. When like, this is all that Bakura does.

This leaves so many questions about Bakura and who he was before he was possessed by the spirit of the ring, and when he got possessed by the ring, since he was supposed to be in prison right? So...that was one pissed off prisoner to just have VIBES that were enough to throw off Dartz.

Anyway, that’s all for now, as per usual, here is the link to read these from the beginning, if you so desire. I know my update schedule is so slow atm, but my backlog is pretty freakin strong at this point so there’s more, if you’re new here:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[vinxwatches]

watching disenchantment season 1

the parts of it i have seen i remember thinking seemed pretty nice. i don't remember what it was, just that it seemed interesting. the artstyle, simpsons styles, isn't too appealing, but if it's good it'll survive a weak artstyle (it's not like the lower decks looked amazing. not bad but not amazing). lets have a look

netflix opening. yes it's a surprise. i pirate basically everything. no job no income, no income no subscriptions, that's my rule. also fuck big corporations. so far i've never been disapointed with their stuff, but in general i don't disappoint easily and it's not like i watched a lot of their stuff. still they are pretty good about lgbtq+ stuff which makes them one of the less shit companies.

ok yea no like 10 seconds in and i know i'll like the princess. i am, in fact, increadibly easy to please. ok yea no i love the vibe 3 min in. oh how i love some lawful evil. "take of those clothes and come down wearing something princesslike" are not safe words with someone who's confident and doesn't like you. ok, thei visual gags fucking rock. ... this is a lot of notes for less then 6 minutes in. this'll be a good one.

ok that gate is neat and something i may steal for my dnd game. a gate that's a gate into a different realm, damn, it's probably not something i can visually describe well enough to make work.

ok, that's more digs at religion then i'd expect from a show like this. i mean i love it but i can imagine a lot of people didn't.

punching your way trough a glass in lead windows? look elfs and demons i can suspend my disbelief with, but doing unrealistic things with real things is just more immersion breaking.

ok, racist antelope was not a one off joke, it was a two off joke. honestly amazing.

ending of the first episode was on the weaker side, and we don't even have a status quo yet. oh well. still a great episode. i hope they can keep the jokes going.

is mermaid song a genre? because i always really like it.

oh, is the status quo going to be trying to kill the guy and failing? if so i'd love it but i wouldn't guess it.

weak endings seem to be a trend, or at least happened both times now.

ok, you made me lol with a dad joke.

i love the jokes based in history. like yea lemons were probably rare in northern europe seen as they grow further south. sure trade did always exist, but fruit is hard to transport, but bringing them back after crusades? yea, makes sense. also that drug looks like ginger.

ok, the exorcist has some great animation jokes. an exorcist with good aftercare... i mean that does already make him better then most modern exorcists, even with the attempt to kill her to get the demon to leave her, that's nothing special.

yea ok that concludes it this show sucks at endings. the rest of the episode makes it worth it but damn do they suck.

not a fan of Elfo's useless "i want to be with her" thing. it's just creepy. like haha stuck in the friendzone, but no, if you follow someone around not because you can just want to back them that's just creepy.

ok, so this episode is really about that. now to see if it's a moment of change or to acknowledge a problem and yet try to return to the status quo. welp, i'm afraid it's the latter. yet somehow the strongest ending... doesn't mean a lot but maybe shit'll get better with time.

"how dare you bring logic into gods house" fucking love it. also i just noticed that episodes are named chapters, which is just neat. is season 2 named book 2?

i'd love it if she picked up witchcraft. don't expect it, would love it.

"i'm bad at everything" except swordfighting in the last episode, getting things organized, and cleaning up a multi murder scene with but 1 (serious) error.

ok, ep5 easily the strongest ending. not strong, but not weak. and yes now i'll be listing the quality of all endings. because i saw a glimmer of a pattern at the start and now i can't stop. because i'm normal like that /s

damn ep6 starts with a delightful tune on the violin.

ok, there seems to be growth in their relationship. i wonder if it'll stick. also endings continue getting better.

ok, fun twist, also man how do you think you're going to get out of this web of lies my guy? like i lie often, or at least used to, got less stuff to lie about nowdays, and lies need to stay small, believable and concentrated. if you're late for work you don't make up a story about family drama, you lie about local traffic that has no way of coming back up in a much later date and they have no reasonable way of knowing.

damn Tes is a lot of fun. hope we'll see her again.

damn how they re-use characters is really neat. making them deeper characters then they were.

"i'll play you a sad song on the words smallest lute" i mean funny... and googled it to make sure, and no the violin is post medieval period. nevermind then.

damn, not even half way trough season 1 and we seem to be near a finally. mid way big change?

main character death? i don't buy it. damn, i saw that twist coming. oh, did not see that choice coming. like it makes the most sense, but character never make that choice. it's always moving forward and returning to the status quo. they did the exact opposite and now i'm hooked.

damn, that title though (ep10). very happy opening, and then that end. "it took all season" i love such meta jokes.

oh damn, this was well planned out, the kingdown/city was designed for this. amazing. and damn that was foreshadowed

the shows title takes on such a massively different meaning. it started, in my mind, like "oh you think this story is enchanting? nah, we're the cynical joke show. this story is disenchanting" but oh no, it's something completely different.

the room they walk into is supposed to be creepy, with red-ish walls and darker and tall furniture... while i'm sitting in my room. with a black floor. 2 silver and 1 red wall, up to the ceiling black wardrobe, and i'm just thinking "oh that room looks nice". am i the villain? no, but i'm probably at least somewhat goth. including swears in regular phrases to seem ominous also doesn't do much when that's just how it talk too.

damn that's one hell of an episode, setting up where things are going to go while also moving the story a lot. i'm sure that wasn't the last we saw of those 3, probably 4 even.

ok, dealing with the problem of evil, and calling god out for the vileness that is inherit in the character growth excuse.

"emotional support demon" now who came up with it first? the click (the youtuber) or this show?

damn the infernal stronghold looks really cool. the book of people send to hell includes a lot of popes. nice.

not really a twist, it was really obvious, but still nice.

i love the chewing out of god. yes i'm easily pleased sue me.

what the fuck happened between ep 12 and 13? how is everyone alive again? the thing it had wrong was that it was the wrong episode as 13. the site works great, but it often has errors like this. i need to check that the episode is titled the same as the site says it's called.

oh, i like her new look and outlook.

it's a surprisingly good resolution with some more nice mysteries.

damn i really love ex queens exit. it's just so not standard and with a lot of depth to it. a lot of depth we never saw in her before but makes total sense with what we did know, and it's a really heart-warming breakup, something that needs to be normalized more.

neat interpretation of a classic mythological creature. and not a minute later we're taking the other half of those stories. but i really like what they did with it.

damn that's some cliffhanger. what's up with the damn musicbox?

also the 3d in this show stays surprisingly good. the blending between 2d and 3d is far from flawless, but it still allows them to do a lot of cool visual stuff.

and damn that reveal of ogre matters.

not a fan of the circus being thieves. not a good stereotype to continue. also not a fan of my suspicion that they'll double cross. and i was correct. old media or new they keep coming back to this.

do like the twist, but the stereotype is still bad.

cool underwater scene, but you'd both have drowned.

ok, going for a joke ending that made me lol. well done.

name the play "the king & me"? like the untrustworthy story? odd choice.

having to work trough emotional problems? great lesson, great to touch on. i'm also currently binging the show to escape my emotions so i fail to properly apricate it.

looks like a dragon, looks more like an airship.

don't get me wrong i love steampunk, but i prefer when the types of magic words stay separated. or if the steampunk world is dead dwemer style, that one also works.

OH. that's an ending and an half. of all the characters i could believe this would be the one as they can die having fulfilled their purposes in the plot.

talk about a witch-hunt. the kings last action? nope, the queens. fuck

i was thinking of doing the whole show in one post... lets not

[yamagucji]

Embarrassing moments

warnings. just for shits n giggles, 14+ readers preferably, mentions of vomit, poop, choking, etc.

HINATA was extremely constipated and needed to use the bathroom quick. but there’s a long line to the mens bathroom (what’s the occasion anyway??) and he’s standing all the way at the back. poor hinata felt a fart coming so he just couldn’t... hold it in. mans SHARTED. shitted and farted at the same time. it stunk so bad that the guys in front of him said, “damn, you need the toilet more than me,” and let him cut in line.

USHIJIMA and tendou stopped to pet this dog during their walk. tendou’s conversing with the owner while toshi’s petting the dog. dog likes it, it’s all good. until... it got bored and decided that toshi’s butt smelled good. dog just wouldn’t stop sniffing his ass. “please, stop smelling me,” toshi says with desperation, which now catches the others’ attention. the owner has to pry their dog away from toshi’s ass cheeks, please. the awkward tension kinda dies down until tendou utters, “so, what’s your secret? what product are you using?”

YAMAGUCHI drank water in the middle of silent class reading. this boy started choking— and i mean choking on his water. you can hear his muffled coughs in the distance and when you turn around to look at him, his face is all red and his cheeks are puffy. none of his classmates say anything but you can practically feel second-hand embarrassment oozing around. the assistant teacher even has the audacity to say, “drink some water.”

KENMA’s calling this one his last try. he sticks his remaining coins into the slot and tries to get the brand new nintendo box thats in the machine. mf has been going at this for over twenty minutes now. his pouch is empty and there’s a crowd of kids waiting for him. no miracle happens in his last try (shit got stuck!!) so he has to move away only to watch in horror— as the kid after him manages to get it. you’re gonna have to hold kenma down before he hunts that kid with every bit of his soul.

DAICHI had a fat one coming in, that’s for sure. thought it was a free real estate just because everyone else in the camp seemed asleep. so he let that monster fart come out (even partly stuck out his thigh for better airway). whole team was awake in a matter of seconds. nishinoya’s jumped off his sleeping bag and asking everyone if they heard that “loud bang.” tanaka’s over here sniffing around because he knows that no one has got some kind of bomb that stinks.

SAKUSA’s not gonna admit to this one. but one time he opened a bathroom stall (it was unlocked) only to find that it was occupied. there are no words to accurately describe just how horried the sight was. sitting on the toilet was a man taking a shit, with his dick on full boner mode, staring back at sakusa. they only made eye contact for just 2 seconds but sakusa’s seen enough. he’s heard enough too, when said stranger asked him, “you wanna join me?”

ASAHI projectile vomited at the theaters. you should’ve known it was a bad idea to take him out to dinner before going to watch a scary movie. man had no courage to tell you he had an upset stomach nor tell you he’s not a fan of horror. it’s twenty minutes into the movie and he’s poking your arm— but you don’t notice because you’re too engrossed. another twenty minutes, and a jumpscare comes on. man beside you vomits like there’s no tomorrow. ya’ll spend the rest of the movie secretly trying to clean his throw-up.

TENDOU was watching anime in his dorm peacefully. until... the whole shiratorizawa team opened the door just in time for the show to switch up to an inappropriate scene. out of all the times they could’ve walked in, they really had to come when 2d clown man was moaning and fighting a kid? tendou scrambled to close his laptop but now he’s just staring back at his teammates; silent, except for the fact that his show is still playing and you can still hearing moaning in the background.

TSUKISHIMA turned his house upside down and still couldn’t find his glasses, nor his extra pair. he was about to leave bare eyed until his mom caught him and forced him to wear his sports glasses. yeah, the one with the whole strap and everything. mans looked like a fool coming to school with it on. people who didn’t know it was his sports glasses mistook it for swimming goggles. he’s so utterly humiliated now, he can’t even bite back when hinata or kageyama says something.

GOSHIKI... i don’t even know what to tell you. who let this kid go further into the lake by himself? it’s all fun and games for everyone until you hear an ear-defeaning shriek by your one and only goshiki. he’s yelling out, “help me! please! help!!” the lifeguards start kicking in and everyone’s trying to make way. is he drowning? is there something there? no for god’s sake. you find out he just made it 5 ft deep and happened to swim over a bunch of seaweed. never take him swimming again.

ATSUMU decided to check himself out using someone’s car window. he’s fixing his hair, picking at his teeth, and even checking to see if he has any boogers. all of a sudden the window rolls down and there’s a senior citizen staring back at him. “boy do you think my car is your mirror?” the man says in a gruffy voice. atsumu’s knees nearly buckle from how scary this man is and how embarrassed he is of all the four minutes he probably spent with this stranger.

SACHIRO’s job as a vet sometimes makes him do really questionable shit (from an outsider perspective). once he had to ejaculate someone’s dog in front of their owner. uh huh... jack them off, for the sole purpose of examining the dog’s semen. he’s never felt such a wave of regret wash through his body during that whole procedure. it didn’t help when the owner was looking at him mortified, nor the fact that it took such a long time.

OIKAWA does this thing were he shows up unexpectedly behind iwaizumi and slaps his ass. everytime he does it iwa always hits him back (but not the ass). today he learnt his lesson when he mistook a stranger for iwa and slapped the guys ass from the moon and back. when i tell you just how quick all the blood drained from oikawa’s body when the man turned around— you can hear a bag of chips fall at the other end of the aisle and it’s the iwa, who had to witness that whole ass-slap event.

ARAN is gonna knock the shit of the miya twins one day, he swears to god. they sent him a mysterious video during his morning walk, where he stopped at a busy street. it starts off quiet, so he goes to turn the volume up full blast. damn video suddenly started blaring ‘lick my pussy and my-’ please... he’s shaking. passerby’s are looking at him with distaste. aran’s now flushed from embarrassment and running towards the miya house. you can guess what happens next.

BOKUTO walked into the wrong house. spent a whole ten minutes rummaging around the kitchen because his friend said to “make yourself comfortable, i’ll be on my way.” little did this man know that there’s a whole family upstairs waiting for the cops to arrive because they think it’s a robbery. poor bokuto, dragged out of the house by some cops but had no idea what was going on. man was literally just vibing— thinking he was in his friends house.

OSAMU swore this size pants still fit him (hint: it doesn’t). he’s walking through the snack section of the store, lightly limping because damn his dick can’t breath. his truth is tested when he goes to pick something off the lowest shelf and his pants literally go, ‘let er rip.’ fabric tore, and what’s worse is that he was wearing onigiri undies. osamu goes to check if there’s anyone else in the aisle and there is— a group of underclassmen girls from his high school.

KUROO tried to make his chemistry presentation more interesting by putting in jokes. he thought they were funny; kenma even huffed a breath. kuroo’s at his third joke by now and literally no one has laughed. not a single one. except for kuroo himself, who’s awkwardly laughing in a dead-silent room. man was embarrassed. other people are getting second-hand embarrassment by the way they avoided eye contact with him. he vented to kenma later only for kenma to say, “it wasn’t funny. it was just stupid.” poor kuroo.

SUNA accidentally connected his bluetooth to the bus. you know, the one that drives all of inarizaki to their games. wanna guess what the fuck he might’ve been listening to? it’s porn. he’s watching porn in broad daylight. suna doesn’t realize what the issue is until he goes to turn up the volume and notices that the sound is off. he take his airpods off and that’s when he hears pure moaning sounds blaring inside the bus. everyone’s laughing— except for kita and their coach who’s still outside. mf calls himself lucky for that.

[yanderepuck]

I canot find the revamped version of my hs au SO ITS BEING REWRITTEN

The most important part of this AU is that Theo is the "bad boy" trope and is the lead singer in a band.

Vincent never leaves the art room and he's trying to learn how to throw clay on a wheel but makes a complete mess every time and therefore only does potery shirtless because his art class is 2nd period and he always forgets to bring a spare shirt and an apron doesn't help. Aka all the girls joined the art club just to watch him. He specifialy reminds me of @/theo_hirschfield on insta

Leonardo is making a self discovery and finding out he is gay. Very gay. He's trying to date girls thinking that he just isn't finding the right girl, but he kisses a girl and goes "blah nope". Leonardo and Theo are also science class partners so Theo is always hearing him rambling on about something that never makes sense until one day when Leoanrdo looks at him and goes "I think I'm gay" to which Theo says "Yeah no shit". Which makes Leonardo question even more

Napoleon is a bi bitch whos eyes are only set on Jeanne. Yes I've decided to make Jean fem in this. Jeanne is a jock. SHE IS THAT AMERICAN HIGH SCHOOL TROPE WHERE A GIRL WANTS TO JOIN THE FOOTBALL TEAM AND ENDS UP BEING THE QUARTERBACK AND TAKING THE TEAM TO FINALS. That's who Jeanne is. And Napoleon, who you would think would also be on the team, is on the sidelines watching her from a distance doing a dreamy sigh.

Isaac is an exchange student. He was going to a privet boarding school or some shit, but something happened to his parents so he's now stuck going to this public school and he has a very English accent.

Mozart and Theo fight over the music room. Mozart needs to use the piano after school to pratice because he's trying to get a scholarship to go to some school for music but Theo keeps saying that he got permission to use it today and so Mozart starts going "YOU CALL THAT MUSIC??" and it causes a war.

Comte is rich kid that no one knows is a rich kid, but he's like.. upper middle class and is best friends with Leonardo. Isaac and Comte may or may not be friends with Leonardo to use advantage of him to not get bullied. He's big and strong, there's no way he'd let them get bullied.

I just started thinking of those stupid high school football movies where it always takes place int he south and it has religous undertones and praying before games and being like "this is God's sport" and that thought mixed with Jean made me laugh so hard I woke my cat up

Arthur and his damn scottish accent. You know this is how I write him. Arthur hears Isaac and is like "Awright! ye'r fae Englain aren't ye?" and Isaac is just like "bloody hell" because now Arthur won't shut up. Arthur is happy for another brit.

Then there is Will. He doesn't look the part, but he's like the emo kid. Keeps to himself and spends every moment just reading. Not many people know he has an English accent either. Which he barely does because he hasn't been there since he was a little kid. HE'S A THEATER KID THOUGH. All the chaos.

Sebastian is bi bitch #2. Him and Napoleon kissed and they may have gotten caught. Sebastian is also anxious as fuck. Always in a panic that he's doing soemthing wrong. He's probably got the asian parents that want all A's So he's only ever seen studying.

No one knows how Dazai gets from class to class because he's always sleeping. You never see him in the hallway. He's in one class and by the time the next class starts he's already asleep at that desk too. Except in Literature. Depending ont he subject in history he's away too. But he's also always getting detentionf or something or getting sent to the principals office.

Vlad is bad boy trope #2 ONLY HES GIVING ME GREASER VIBES. Like black leather jacket and white shirt and jeans vibes. WHY??? I DON'T KNOW. But him and Theo are chill. Also Theo is PUNK.

Faust is just trying to make it through the day. He ends up coming to school in his fuzzy pajama pants because it was too early to get up. He's lucky he remembered his backpack. But he does amazing in his classes. He's also giving me heelys vibes. But because he put the wrong shoes on in the monring.

Charles is following a different person around every week. He defaults to following Will for some reason. He talks funny and has funny stories to tell. But Charles is dressed in name brand clothing and looks like a rich bitch. But he just has style and wants to be cute.

[shroudcore]

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (Finale)

Summary: The ghosts may have left, but the wedding they officiated is not something to be easily forgotten. Will unsaid feelings remain hidden? Idia thinks so, after seeing you with your admirers. 

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

After that 3-star difficulty sidequest, it was finally time for the ghosts to leave. They were filing out through a shimmering silver portal to the Land of the Dead, which you joked about jumping into “for the meme”. Idia was quick to discourage it. The joke would’ve been funny at any other time than right now. 

Each ghost made sure to give the newlyweds their congratulations. Each congratulation made Idia want to take off into the night, never to be seen again. It was beyond embarrassing. Unbearable. Way past his limit of social interaction capability. Things were getting way too much to handle for his now-empty Energy bar. 

While Idia longed for the comfort and isolation of his dorm room, you were the one who thanked the well-wishers and said the goodbyes—from a safe distance, of course. 

“When we return, I want you to meet our baby!” Eliza announced before she stepped into the portal. You and Idia shared a look. As if reading each other’s minds, you checked your schoolmates’ faces for their reactions—which did not disappoint. Different ways of saying “Don’t come back!” filled the hall, in varying degrees of anger and vulgarity. Before she disappeared for good, Eliza huffed and stuck her nose up in the air—an expression that tonight’s failed suitors knew all too well. 

At her departure, the portal shrunk into a mere speck until it completely disappeared. Then came the loudest cheers of the night serving as Victory fanfare. It was all over! But before he went, Idia hoped to say goodbye and take a look at you in your suit one last time. Or maybe even ask you to hang out tomorrow, depending on his current Courage level. 

While he silently rehearsed his thank-yous and good-byes, he wondered if you knew that you were still holding his hand. He decided not to mention it. 

Unfortunately, his brief moment of (weak) celebration was cut short when he noticed that the now-mobile Groom Rejects were approaching. They might as well have red bars floating over their heads to warn him of danger. He froze, contemplating whether to: 

> Bear it and stay with you just until he was prepared to say goodbye (+10 relationship points -20 comfort LV)

> Just run off on his own without saying anything, ignoring your calls. (-10 relationship points +10 comfort LV)

For now, he decided to stick with Option 1. Just a little bit longer. 

“That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed, rushing over to give you a high-five. You laughed and  met other high-fives, low-fives, fist bumps, and head pats that came your way with that lovely smile of yours. 

Suddenly, Ace rips you away from him. Suddenly, you weren’t holding hands anymore. The loud first-year put his arm around you and Idia couldn’t help but notice how easy and natural it looked. Meanwhile, there he was: someone who needed to rehearse his goodbyes. 

Clearly, there was a huge level difference here and Idia was the one disadvantaged. 

“Our hero!” Ace yelled, inspiring more cheers. The distance between you and Idia grew as your wave of admirers and friends swept you farther and farther away. He was an outsider once again, stuck watching the fun from the sidelines. Their eyes sparkled. Their mouths smiled. Their loud voices laughed and praised you and laughed with you again. 

They loved you. And Idia was no different. 

Everyone’s Friend and the Weird Shut-in. Was there hope?

“Brother, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ortho’s voice cut through his stream of thoughts. Immediately, he feels the weight on his shoulders lighten. 

He watched as his brother, his beacon of hope, made his way around your fan club until he eventually reached his spot. Ortho wouldn’t care if he looked like a loser, standing there awkwardly at the side all alone. Finally, he was saved. 

My savior! “Ortho! Thank you, thank you…” 

“No injuries… tense muscles… an increase in cortisol production,” Ortho muttered, frowning. “Are you okay?” 

“No…” 

Ortho nods. “We’ll return to the dorm, then. But before that, we should thank the Prefect.”

“Oh… right.” Idia looked over to you, still surrounded by your “fans” like the SSR character you were. You listened to Azul, who prattled on and on about something that was oh-so-interesting that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. And Vil judged your suit’s design, reaching out to fix something near your neck. You cracked up at something Floyd said. You posed and smiled beside Cater as he took a selfie with you. 

His mind raced as it continuously spotted the students on his list and everything they did. What was so interesting about Azul? What was so funny about Floyd? Did you like Vil’s hardworking, confident attitude? Did you think Cater had a way with words? 

He looked away. 

“Ortho, I’m going back to my room,” he said with a heavy heart, admitting Defeat. He was underleveled, had zero energy, and zero SP (social points). He’ll see you… some other time. After his cry-sesh, maybe. 

“Huh? Don’t you want to talk to the Prefect first?” 

“I’ll just… DM them later,” he lied. In truth, all he wanted was to drown himself in a video game while he gorged on candy and tried not to think about you. Ortho’s eyes narrowed, but followed him as he sneakily left the hall anyway. 

You’d understand, right?

Once he and Ortho were out, he looked back at the hall doors, hating himself for being too shy and cowardly to make a move. He imagined charging back into the room, wedging himself in between your friends, grabbing your arm, and pulling you away. Then he’ll kabedon you and—

Who was he kidding? He can’t do that, and you probably wouldn’t like that. 

“It was terrible, brother. Nobody wanted to help!” Ortho said, and Idia thinks he didn’t need to be reminded that nobody liked him. 

“When the Prefect and I reached Diasomnia, we expected them to reject us too…” he mused. “But Malleus Draconia agreed to help us! Can you believe it?”

“Wait… Malleus-shi?” 

Ortho nodded enthusiastically. “Yes… because the Prefect talked to him… and then he cast a charm on them to help us ward off those ghosts! It was really nice of him.”

“I see…” Idia knew that you and Malleus were friends. But to actually help you and him? Maybe your relationship with the Diasomnia dorm leader ran deeper than he thought. Why else would he go through that trouble? 

“The Prefect volunteered without needing to be asked, you know,” said Ortho, who he now noticed was observing him carefully. Idia tried to ignore the way his brother’s eyes lingered on him as they walked (floated in Ortho’s case). 

“...I’m so glad their plan worked!”

Wait, what?

“Volunteered? Their plan?” All this time, he thought you’d been forced to do this by the Headmaster! You did always rant about Crowley promising you different sorts of rewards if you did jobs here and there. But… you got yourself into this mess… all for him? 

Idia looked at the hand you held just moments ago and dared not hope again. Maybe you would have done this for anyone else in his place. Maybe you treated everyone the same, and it just so happened that he was the one kidnapped by a ghost bride. 

Still, he felt bad for not doing as Ortho said earlier. It was too late to turn back, however, as Idia and Ortho finally reached the Hall of Mirrors. 

“Finally… I’m so tired,” said Idia, meaning it in all ways. But as he put one leg forward to enter the door to Ignihyde, he heard someone’s voice, along with the scuffle of shoes against the floor coming closer and closer to where he and Ortho stood. 

“Idia, wait up!”

Oh no. It’s you. Enter now! Enter now!

But no matter what his head told him to do, he remained rooted to his spot. He stood still despite his pounding heart, that elevator-like feeling in his stomach, and the blaring alarms in his head. 

Object of affection at 5m…

Ortho was probably seeing his vitals going haywire and giving him that look again. He turned to look at his brother… only to not find him there. 

Help… oh no…

2m… 

“Hey,” you gasped out, catching your breath. “When I turned around, you were gone…”

Yeah, same. Just like Ortho… 

No one said a word for a while. The silence was only filled by your heavy breathing as it slowly evened. Inwardly facepalming at himself, he decided to take the chance to tell you everything he should’ve said before he left. 

But before he could open his mouth and apologize for leaving, (gods know he had too many things to apologize for after tonight), he was taken into a warm embrace. 

OHMYGODSOHMYGODSOHMYGODSOKAYLET’SCALMDOWN

“I thought I was too late.” you mumbled into his suit. 

At that moment, without anyone else around, nothing else mattered but the safety of your arms. And damn, how good it felt to be embraced. Did anyone else get these hugs from you? Idia didn’t think so. He hesitantly lifted his arms up and hugged back. 

Looking up at the domed castle ceiling, he wondered what he did to deserve something this good. 

It’s okay. I can have this. He allows himself to melt into your arms, head drooping down to rest against your neck. 

“G-good thing you weren’t,” he finally whispered back, freezing as he heard you sob against his chest. Oh no, oh no, what do you do when your love interest is crying? Quick, quick, pull up the archive of romantic scenes from your memory. 

“Hey, hey, I-I’m okay, you see?” he said, patting your back awkwardly. You let go after releasing another sob to wipe your eyes with your sleeve. 

“Sorry I got your suit wet,” you said softly, turning your face away. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened there too.”

“About what?”

“The whole wedding thing...” You took a quick look at him but immediately dropped your gaze to the ground. 

Idia blushed. “I-It’s okay! D-don’t worry about it… I-” 

Come on, say more! Ugh… I hate myself. 

You pulled at our vest and slipped something out of it—an envelope. “I… wanted to tell you everything through a letter.”

Tell me what?

“But… Eliza came and took you before I could give it to you.” You avoided his eyes as your fingers tightened around the white envelope. Idia’s breath hitched, expecting you to crumple it. But to his relief, your fingers relaxed. Then, as if it took all your courage, you handed it to him with a slightly shaky hand. 

“It's old-fashioned, I know but yeah... just read it!” 

In the hall’s silence, he could hear your breaths quicken once again. 

“Th-That’s all I came here for. Goodbye!” 

Before he knew it, you were running off. Your arm waved frantically from a distance as every step carried you farther, farther away. He lifted his arm to wave back but you never saw it. You were gone and all he had left was the letter. 

His curiosity made him impatient. With fast and purposeful steps, he sprinted on the way to his room. What did he feel? Excitement? Dread? An unpleasant mix of both? His room, feeling farther than usual, was the only safe place he could experience whatever it was.

After a lot of walking and almost slipping over someone’s spilled soda (he cursed the shoes those ghosts made him wear. His very own would never fail him like that), he found himself in front of the doors, which slid open, revealing Ortho already inside. 

“You left me there!” Idia huffed. 

“Couples need alone time, brother,” replied his brother, innocently blinking.

“Wh-wha… we’re not a couple!” 

“Hmm? I could’ve sworn the signs were all there...”

A blushing Idia threw off the silly coat those ghosts made him wear and threw it over his desk chair. He sat on the bed, fingers racing to open the envelope. Ortho watched with great interest as two sheets of paper covered in your handwriting slipped out.  

Unfolding the first page, Idia took a deep breath and began reading:

Hey Player 1!

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight last night. Maybe you can show me your new manga tomorrow? I know how excited you are about it.  I’m writing this while Grim’s asleep. He’ll never let me hear the end of it otherwise. 

I figured that this would be the best way to communicate my thoughts and feelings. This way, you won’t feel pressured to respond immediately. You can open and read it whenever you’re ready, in the safety of your room. I know it’s old-fashioned. But to me, a handwritten letter feels more personal—like I’m giving you a piece of myself. So here’s that piece of myself. Please, handle it with care. 

Beware. I’m about to get sentimental and mushy and cheesy and everything you cringe at! I hope you read on, anyway. 

First of all, I want you to know how much I admire you. Right from before we were friends, I was impressed by your intelligence and knowledge with technology. I’ve seen nothing like it back home. I always wondered why you hide yourself and those talents away. My curiosity drove me to want to get to know you. I’m glad I did. 

You were closed off. To you, I was just another normie. Do you remember? Your dismissal annoyed me, so I challenged you to a 1v1 match. I thought I was good, but you crushed me. I guess that’s where it started: our friendship… and something else. Soon, I found more and more reasons to admire you. Honestly, I find more with each passing day. 

I should have known, right from when songs started to make me think of you, that I was falling. I started to see you as, well, more than a friend. Your quick mind, your expressive hair, your soothing voice, your precious grin… your voice when you talk about things you love, your love of cats, and your candy, and your cold hands… Okay, I think you get the point.  But if you have time, I could go on forever. 

There’s something different in your eyes when you truly care. You say you’re bad at being sentimental and feel-y, but that’s okay! We express love differently. I see your love pour out in the way you perfect every detail on Ortho’s modifications, anyway. I’m sure he knows how much you love him. 

I want you to know how special you are to me. You’re so amazing, Idia. I wish you knew that. I want you to know that. 

I know it’s hopeless. You’re the young master to a noble house. I’m just… me. A homeless, magicless foreigner with nothing to my name. Nothing to offer but my feelings (and my superb gaming skills of course). I’m not asking nor expecting to be your special someone. But hey, I can be a top-tier teammate. A worthwhile BG opponent. A movie buddy. And most importantly—a friend. 

Our time together has always been a highlight of my difficult stay in NRC. The times we hung out in your room were my refuge from the outside world’s demands. Somewhere I was untouchable and safe from harm. Safe from demeaning remarks. Even if you never get back to this letter and decide you never want to see me again, I will always treasure the matches we played, the movies we watched, the candy we shared, and the memes we laughed over.

That’s all of it, really. Please don’t sleep too late. Watch your sugar intake. Listen to Ortho. Take care of yourself. 

Oh, and enjoy your new manga. 

Your best raid teammate, 

Player 2

Wide amber yellow eyes glistened as they repeatedly flitted over the words. A shaky thumb caressed the smudged ink from where a fallen teardrop marked the paper. Burning different shades at once, fire-hair slowly released itself from the tie it was forced into. Now free, it swathed Idia’s back in warmth like it should.

“Th-This can’t be real!” he sputters as he waved your letter around like he was fanning a bonfire. In a way, he was. 

However, Idia knew his hair wasn’t the only thing that kept him warm. He stared at the letter and it stared back. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same. You felt the same. 

“What have I done to unlock this route?” Idia clutched the letter to his chest, but noticed he was wrinkling it. “Nooo!” He quickly smoothed it over again. 

“They… they like-like me!” Saying it out loud made it more real. It was a fact! It was true all this time! Thinking of everything you did tonight: rescuing him like a true hero, running after him because you couldn’t keep your feelings secret for much longer… he couldn’t stop himself from swooning. 

“Like-like… did you mean love?”

“L-love?” Idia exclaimed. He suddenly felt dizzy, so he fell back onto his bed and talked to the ceiling. “It’s too early for that word!” 

But he knew the effect which that word had on him didn’t go unnoticed by Ortho. Well, at least he knew now that Idia wasn’t suffering from an illness. Can love be considered an illness? Idia recalls a documentary that said it was. Back then, he ate that up. Love made people do crazy things, after all. 

But ‘illness’ wasn’t an apt word to describe this dizzying happiness surging through him, was it? It was way too wonderful for a word like that.

“I’m so glad the Prefect finally confessed!” Ortho bounced happily, reflecting his brother’s joy. “I knew they would do it soon!” 

Mouth hanging open, Idia looked at his brother. “Wait… you knew?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Ortho giggled. “Vitals can’t keep secrets!” 

***

Contrary to plan, Idia didn’t touch his video games, nor gorge on candy, nor cry himself to sleep. Instead, he replayed the night’s events in his head over and over like a song he couldn’t get enough of. It had been two hours and thirty-five minutes since he read your letter. Two hours and thirty-five minutes since his world was turned upside down. In his reflection on the dark screen of his off tablet, he almost looked different. He saw someone who was admired. Wanted. Loved. 

Was that what you saw whenever you looked at him?

Ortho told him what the next move was: asking you out. He was scared. You might have changed his view of himself a bit, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to go the distance and conquer the world, or whatever those overenthusiastic extroverts say. The night was still too much, and maybe he still needed those three weeks of being a complete hermit. 

Okay. Maybe with your help, I'll get there little by little. 

Perhaps you could watch a movie in his room... Would you be okay with that? You always hung out with him in there. But what if you wanted to do something outside? Eh, maybe it all didn’t matter, as long as you were together. 

When he put on his headphones, he knew which song to choose right away. There was one forgotten song in his music library that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. A love song. It wasn’t a bad one, because Idia would never keep a bad song in his music library. It’s just that the lyrics  were too happy—its singer so blissfully in love that it amplified the loneliness that had always been there.

Now playing: “Immortal Flowers” — SERPINA

This time, it’ll be different. Tonight, he puts it on repeat. He listens to it with a head for once clear of uncertainties. Instead, he thinks of fluffy otome scenarios. 

That date idea would have to wait. For now, he’ll imagine and dream of you, with your warm smile and open arms—skin basking in the glow of blue fire light. 

THE END. 

~

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

There you have it! Thank you for reading. I had fun writing this 4-part series. Would love to hear some feedback! 

Btw, the title of the song Idia listens to at the end comes from “Conversations with Persephone” by Nikita Gill. “What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.” 

[jesslockwood]

SOUR | T. Holland

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing(s): Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Warnings: angsty af, swearing

Summary: y/n and tom broke up, and when tom comes around with his new girl 2 weeks later, y/n is sour. 

A/n: I was hesitant to post this due to everything going on with tom lmao but yk, fuck it lol. anyways lmk if you want a part two cause I this was pretty short and I have ideas! also I didn’t edit this much lol so sorry for the mistakes!

His brown guilty eyes were enough to know that he moved on, in two weeks to be exact, after you broke it off. He was spotted recently with a girl he said he was just friends with, what a damn lie. 

You try to not let the tears out as you see them making their way on the red carpet of the movie premiere. He looked you straight in the fucking eyes, yet couldn’t even give you a heads up he was bringing a date tonight. You worked together for six months yet he didn’t have the decency.  

He betrayed you. He didn’t cheat but he betrayed you. 

You had even mentioned her by name before, yet he said you were paranoid and had nothing to worry about. What bullshit. 

She was just a new trophy for him, one that he’d put on the shelf later, or smash like it like you were broken. 

 It started out so sweet and innocent. You had met working together and had started dating under the radar, and you fell in love with him so quickly, even at his worst, but it didn’t matter. He moved on with you still in the picture and that’s what hurt the most. But he would never see or care about how much you hurt. He wasn’t sorry. 

Isn’t it funny how someone you thought could love you the way you loved them, was a damn traitor? 

He played all these twisted games with your mind, thinking that he felt the same way about you, or at least cared. 

God, you wanted to scream, she was sleeping in the bed you lied in and made with him. But she couldn’t care less, she got the prize, a shitty one at that. 

You didn’t get it, he couldn’t have fallen in love with someone that quickly, not after what you had. 

All you had done for Tom, it didn’t apparently matter to him, cause he’s dating her. He gave you his fucking word, that you were the one who meant something to him, you guessed he just used you.

She was gorgeous too, and she made you feel so small, unimportant and the paparazzi all turned to them, and barely any was paying any mind to you, the star of the movie. It sounded selfish but you put the blood sweat and tears into this movie, and all she had to do was walk with the man you put blood sweat and tears into, and she had all the attention.

He just had to bring her and was showing her off like a new trophy. God, you hated him. You hated him for hurting you like this. And yet, if he asked for you back, you would probably jump at the chance. 

He seemed so genuine and true when you had first met him. Brown doe-eyed, attentive and listening to every word you said like it was the most important thing in the world, then things got ugly. He would play all these twisted games with you, making you feel like nothing one moment, and then his everything the next. 

He even gave you his fucking word and a promise ring that he would always love you, But Isn’t it funny? He’ll never feel sorry for breaking you. 

Suddenly one of your friends, well tom’s brother, wraps his arm around your waist, whispering to you, asking if your okay, before the paps get a few snaps in of the moment. Harry starts leading you away from the commotion before you cried. No one had asked you that until today. Which kind of shell shocked you, because you weren’t and he was the first person who seemed to care.

Harry at the moment couldn’t care less about the out-of-character way his brother was acting, especially towards you. Yes, he loved his brother but hated how he was acting. He couldn’t see how he could treat someone as lovely as you like that. 

Tom didn’t even notice the way you were destroyed. He let you go, Harry couldn’t understand why because tom seemed so happy with you, until nearing the end of the relationship. 

“Thank you, Harry.” you sniffle, once reaching the inside of the building. 

“You shouldn’t be thanking me. I should be apologizing for my brother.”

You smile weakly at him. He wipes the tears from your eyes, before suggesting,

“After they have you up on stage for the thank you’s and stuff, we should just ditch this and go back to my hotel and get room service and raid my candy stash, if you’re up for it.”

“I’ll think about it,” you say with a more genuine yet sad smile.

“Let’s get in there, shall we?” he puts his arm out for you and you link yours in his. 

What you didn’t realize is that tom saw harry wiping your tears while doing an interview, and saw you link your arms together when he got inside. To say he was fuming doesn’t even cover how enraged he was. 

Once getting in, you realized you and tom would be sitting next to one another, something you truly wished you could get out of. 

“You’d better wish me luck.” You point to the seats. 

Harry got the bright idea to just take his brother’s spot. He wouldn’t care anyway, he had his new girl Zabrina. 

You and Harry had a small conversation about what both of you had been up to after he was Tom’s assistant for filming. You saw him almost every day when you and tom would hang out, harry being the third wheel. You had spent a decent chunk of time with him and definitely preferred the company over being alone, or with your ex.

“I can’t believe you dropped your SD card down the drain! Photos are your life, so you should have paid attention!” you laugh with him.

“Harry, You’re in my seat.” Tom interrupts, with a scowl on his face. 

“Can’t you just move down one? Y/n and I are talking here.”

“Tommy I can’t see from that seat!” Zabrina pouts like a child. 

“If she can’t see why do I have to sit there? I actually worked behind the scenes on this movie!” 

“Harry, don’t make me-”

“You know what! Harry and I were leaving after we thank everyone. So you two lovebirds can have the whole row!” you say venom seething from your mouth. 

“There you go, Tommy. Have a nice night you two!” Harry follows up, really sick of the attitude his brother was having.

Tom’s face turned red under the makeup he had on. He was enraged. His brother was betraying him. 

“Have a nice time, fucking around” he said, seeing red. he saw your face soften, from anger to confusion, to sadness. You didn’t think he thought so low of you.

“What the fuck tom! We aren’t-”

“It’s not worth it Harry, he’s not worth it,” you say sadly. Standing up, Turning to go towards the stage. 

That hit tom with a pang in his chest. He was just trying to get over you, to move forward. But maybe that was the problem. He just left you in the dust (peter parker is that you?) to navigate the way you felt over losing one of the best things you ever had. God, you wished you didn’t fall in love with him before he betrayed you. You wished he just would have thought it through before he ruined you. 

Your director motioned over to you and Tom to go up on the stage. 

“I’ll meet you outside, Y/n/n.” 

That was tom’s nickname for you. He came up with it and he was the only one who could call you that. You were his and he was yours. But yet he knew that long-distance was so fucking hard. He couldn’t put you or himself, so he found someone who was fine with the distance. Zabrina barely paid attention to him unless he wanted attention for herself, but he didn’t realize how he broke much more of you than the surface showed. 

“She’s really pretty, I hope she makes you happy,” you mention bitterly, hoping in a terrible way,  he’d never be as happy as he was with you. 

Before Tom, you scream out no one would make him happy as you did. Your director cut tom off.

After your director said thanks to everyone and the film started you grab your bag from your assistant, before heading to the exit, tom hurriedly tried to follow you, being caught by Zabrina, asking Tom to take a selfie with her, so she could commemorate her ‘prize’ when truly, Tom was using her as a rebound. 

“Zabrina, I need to talk to harry!” he whispers yells.

“Why? He literally is taking to your wretched ex?” she says with venom in her voice. 

Tom jogs around her, trying to get to you and Harry, While Zabrina dramatically calls after him.

He was too late, though, he saw you from the doors, you were already getting in your getaway car, with Harry. He ruined everything.

Harry and you were sitting in the limousine that was rented for you, before harry states, “He’ll be the one who crying, I promise you.”

“I always knew this is how He’d leave me. He found someone more exciting, and better than me. I was used a discarded like nothing.” you laugh through the tears.

“You’ll find someone who finds you exciting Y/n, and you’ll be their whole world.” he comforts you.

“Good for him I guess, but it’s like we never happened. Like what the fuck is that?” you ask.

“He’s acting like a damn sociopath.” harry shrugs.

You laugh at that one. 

“So what do you want to watch Y/n?”

“Would you hate me if I said legally blonde?”

“Not if we can watch fight club after.” 

“You have a deal, Sir!”

Tom however was stuck, watching you and him on screen. Reminiscing of how he fucked up. 

It was getting close to an intimate scene, probably his favorite one he’s ever done. All he could think about was someone else getting to touch you, and be with you, he wanted that but at the same time, he couldn’t deal with all the shit of being with you. The relationship was too good, so much that Tom thought sometimes he didn’t deserve someone like you. It was probably crazy of him for thinking like that, but he couldn’t bring you down with him, not when he was so fucked up. He wished he could be the one but he couldn’t so he just hoped you were okay.  

Tags:

@spideyspeaches

@greenorangevioletgrass

@queenofthepouges

@minejungwoo

@keithseabrook27

@lolooo22

@webmeupspiderdaddy

@harryhollandsgirlfriend

[spacedikut]

the blessing of a blizzard ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a blizzard leaves the team holed up in the bau office. spencer can’t stop thinking about your elusive boyfriend, mike, who might not be your boyfriend after all. 4.3k

a/n: festive fic! kind of! im too scared to do a final check so if there’s errors or i misuse pronouns just lemme know ily happy holidays ! thank you to the incredible @homoose for helping with dialogue :D

Mike. His name is Mike, and Spencer hates him.

Full name Michael, Spencer presumes, which comes from Hebrew meaning “who is like God?” A rhetorical question, implying there is no person like God, Michael was one of the archangels in Hebrew tradition and the only one identified as an archangel in the Bible.

What Michael should mean, however, is the guy that stole your heart and left Spencer thinking things very unlike him – that Mike, a man Spencer has never met and that clearly makes you very happy, has a really stupid name, for example.

There are three things Spencer knows about him:

1. Ever since you started deciding on his wardrobe, ladies love him. It makes you a little jealous, apparently.

2. You love baking him homemade treats whenever you can. Like a movie playing in his head, Spencer can perfectly remember you excitedly chatting with Garcia and Emily, animatedly explaining how excited Mike gets when he sees you’ve made something just for him.

3. Mike can be a bit of a dick, actually. There have been several mornings you’ve come in with a long face, leaning back in your desk chair far enough to view the world upside down and whining about how grumpy Mike was that morning, how you had to tip-toe around your apartment lest he get mad.

You’d called him your soulmate, added that he’s a light in your life you didn’t know you needed until you had him. You’re a person who chooses their words carefully, so when you’re walking around putting Mike and soulmate in the same sentence, you mean business.

That business is ripping Spencer’s heart out of his chest, apparently. Because you’re busy showing JJ pictures of him on your phone right now, blissfully unaware of the subconscious glare Spencer is lasering into your phone as he leans against the jet counter.

Spencer’s never had the honour of seeing Mike (a genuine word you used – honour) and you know what? Spencer doesn’t want to know what Mike looks like. Spencer doesn’t care. Mike’s probably ugly, anyway, and Spencer’s confidence within himself grows day by day and if there’s one thing he’s learnt recently it’s that comparison is the thief of joy and-

“Oh!” JJ exclaims, “He’s gorgeous!”

Fuck Mike. Really, fuck him.

+++

The floor is slippery beneath everyone’s feet, the surrounding area slowly losing its mixture of colours to blend into one coat of white.

It’s snowing.

Garcia greets the team, a steaming cup of tea in her bejewelled hands, and everyone gets to work right away. There’s whispers of the snow getting heavier and sticking and covering more and more ground with more and more depth; people are rushing against the proverbial clock to get done and get home before they’re all stuck.

But that won’t happen, right? If people were genuinely concerned about getting snowed in, surely everyone would’ve been sent home early as a precaution. Right? Right?

Wrong.

Rossi’s the one to notice it, calling out, “Check it out. Snow’s pretty bad.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like they’ll race to the windows then deflate with disappointment because you couldn’t even create a single snowball with that light coat, but holy hell people are walking around with snow up to their ankles and it’s still coming down thick. And then the lights are flickering and JJ is making frantic calls home to Will and Hotch is exiting his office, phone pressed to his ear, calling everyone to attention:

“There’s a blizzard incoming. It’s too dangerous for anyone to be on the roads, so we’re being told to sit tight. You should all try to call home, just in case; we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

Some people still brave it, still try to head on home, and whether they make it or not is up to the Gods. The team glance around, varying expressions – Emily and Derek look pissed, JJ is worried, and you and Rossi are straight-faced. Penelope is bouncing in excitement.

“It’s like a sleepover!”

All Spencer can think about is how Mike will have to suffer another day without you. He bites back a smile.

+++

Spencer’s straining his neck, butt barely on his desk chair, in attempt to see around all the bustling people that stand between you and him. Through the glass BAU doors, on the phone, your shoulders are slumped and you kick your boot against the floor a few times to channel your multitude of emotions into something. He hopes Mike isn’t giving you a hard time for something that isn’t within your control.

Emily looks up from her monitor, where she’s doing Christmas shopping even though it’s Christmas Eve, and looks thoroughly amused by Spencer’s internal battle of wanting to watch you but not wanting it to be obvious.

“You good, Reid?”

Spencer flinches like Emily pinched him. “Yeah, good. Fine. Are you good?”

Emily makes a show of slowly turning to look at you, still on the phone, then slowly turning back to Spencer’s wide-eyed gaze. She smirks. “You think they’re talking to Mike?”

Yes, Spencer does think that, but he’d made a point to not fully acknowledge it. And there’s something about Emily’s smugness that tells Spencer she’s teasing him – she knows something he doesn’t and it makes his eyes narrow. “Probably. Why?”

Whatever the response is, Emily’s barely opened her mouth before she’s interrupted by Penelope Garcia gracefully clapping her hands, getting the attention of every BAU member. The team quiets and all eyes are on Penelope. Except Spencer, who watches with concern as you sneak back to your desk, a furrow to your brow and downward dips either side of your mouth.

“I know these are less-than-great circumstances, and we’re stuck in work of all places, but that shouldn’t mean we can’t have a little fun! So…”

She wildly gestures for Hotch to step forward, a cheesy grin on her face and a gleam in Hotch’s eye that tells everyone he’s also smiling but internally, and she takes the three large boxes he was carrying like the good sidekick he is.

“We’re building gingerbread houses!”

There’s exclamations of surprise and joy; Emily lights up at the idea of doing anything other than work or sitting at her desk, and JJ takes a box to look it over before asking, “Where did you get these?”

Hotch answers. “They were supposed to be for the kids,” He shrugs, holding back a smile, “However, I guess we can use them now.”

“Yes,” Penelope nods, “Yes, we can use them now. Get your game faces on, because this is a competition. Hotch and Rossi are the judges, because they’re grumpy old men, and the rest of us will be in teams of two fighting to build the best gingerbread house the BAU has ever seen.”

Derek speaks up for the first time, just to insult Spencer. “I refuse to be on a team with Reid. He has no creative skills.”

Members of the team laugh and Spencer reacts indignantly. He wants to reply, but you’re already speaking.

“Hey! I’ll take him! Spencer’s great.”

Many heads snap to you when you speak, Spencer’s surely got whiplash, but you’re looking at him and smiling at him and him alone. He’s breathless at the sight, how you chose him and have literal stars in your eyes, yet all he can think is how undeserving he is of such a beauty. How undeserving anyone is, mostly Mike, to exist in the same reality as someone who puts the definition of beautiful to shame.

Spencer’s about to make the best damn gingerbread house the world has ever seen.

+++

So, building a gingerbread house? A little more difficult than originally thought.

Maybe it’s the sticky icing, or the temptation to simply eat all the sweet decorative candy rather than use it for its intended purpose, or…

Maybe it’s the pretty teammate Spencer has that keeps brushing against him, keeps brushing against his hands, and like a virus to a computer you completely wipe Spencer of all thoughts other than: Y/N.

Spencer caught you watching him while he was rolling up his shirt sleeves, caught you staring at his hands and trailing your eyes up his forearms, following the sleeves as they moved inch by inch up to his elbows.

Then, when Spencer was holding two pieces of gingerbread together, you were too lost in thought to put the icing between the cracks and cement them together. Your eyes were trained on the fingers pressing the pieces together. Spencer had to call your name three times to wake you up.

Then, something weird happened (if the previous instances weren’t weird enough). You two had been in your own bubble of hushed tones and accidental touching, surrounded by bickering and collapsing houses and at one point Emily offered Rossi twenty bucks if he just votes for her and JJ without them making a house, and suddenly it’s silent. All he can hear is his heartbeat, his blood pumping in his ears, and all he can feel is the warmth of your breath on his ear because you’re right there, over his shoulder, joining him in hunching over your creation to decorate it with all kinds of shapes and colours.

The close proximity is too much. It’s too much.

You lean even closer, shoulder and arm pressed directly against Spencer’s, and lift another hand to place a miniature candy cane next to the gingerbread door. The action causes your hand to brush Spencer’s, and for the first time ever he’s not jolting away like he’s been electrocuted, no, his hand stays there, hovering, waiting and hoping for more.

Hoping for more of you.

And you seem to realise, too, that Spencer’s reaction is abnormal. He can’t decide if you’re testing the waters, or if it was a mere accident. But what are you testing the waters for? Why are you trying to touch him? Why do you want to touch him?

He takes a sharp intake of breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees you turn to look at him, and he almost doesn’t reciprocate. Almost.

You’re so close, face so close to his own. You take the softest breaths, in and out, sending the gentlest puffs of air onto Spencer’s lips.

He has no idea what the fuck is happening. He doesn’t want it to stop.

Your eyes, always shining and full of an emotion Spencer can’t decipher, dance around his face – his eyes, to his nose, stopping on each cheek, back and forth and up and down. Spencer’s captured by them, unable to tear himself away, which has become quite the habit since he’s known you.

Then you’re looking at his lips.

Spencer blinks, hoping to clear away the obvious hallucination he’s having, but no. Nothing changes. Your gaze remains, unwavered, making Spencer subconsciously open his mouth. The softest gasp leaves it when your pupils dilate.

This is the perfect moment to kiss, right? Right here, in front of the gingerbread house you made together, decorated together, and now begin the start of something else together. It makes sense, it’s almost poetic, and Spencer’s thought about you and him in a relationship enough times to consider this opportunity good and sweet enough to regale everyone with in the future.

Can you imagine it? “We had our first kiss in front of the gingerbread house we slaved over together. We won the competition, too.”

There’s a loud clang – Penelope found an actual gong from somewhere – and Rossi announces that the timer has gone off and it’s time for the judges to vote for the winner.

When you gently pick up yours and Spencer’s creation and take it to a cloth-covered table, where Rossi and Hotch ominously stand with their arms crossed, Spencer is frozen in place.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

There’s no way you wanted to kiss him. It isn’t possible. You’ve never looked at him like that before. It must’ve been a mistake.

But you were so close…

No. If Spencer made that move, it would’ve ruined everything – your friendship, the festive fun, the atmosphere of the entire evening. Everyone’s expected to be stuck here for at least another six hours, and making it tense and awkward was not something Spencer is willing to do.

But your eyes…

Spencer can’t think about that fact too much. That could mean anything – dilated pupils don’t necessarily mean you’re in love. You could’ve gotten a good whiff of the gingerbread and felt hungry, or a song you really liked started playing from the playlist Penelope created. Or, most likely, Spencer thinks, you were thinking about someone else.

Your boyfriend, for example.

You have a boyfriend. Mike.

Of course, you were probably thinking of Mike. Your boyfriend.

Spencer almost kissed someone in a relationship, and he’s pretty sure you almost kissed him too.

+++

Much to Derek’s chagrin, you and Spencer win the gingerbread house contest.

Penelope was baffled, frantically gesturing to the Jacuzzi she made with icing and- Derek made miniature weights? Somehow? It looked chaotic.

“Practicality, my dear,” Rossi told her. “Who, living in a gingerbread house, is worried about working out?”

Even though you and Spencer were the winners, Derek and Penelope and their pouting (and calls for a rematch) took the attention away from the obvious awkward tension between the winners. Spencer stayed at the desk you worked at while you took your house to the judges, stayed at the desk when you were crowned and stayed at the desk when you cheered.

You looked at him, wide grin and happy eyes, and all he could do was tightly smile back. Give a thumbs up.

He gave you a thumbs up. You nearly kissed less than ten minutes prior. And all he could do was give you a thumbs up.

The light in your eyes dimmed, but you seemed to understand.

Understand what, exactly? Spencer’s not so sure either. But something clicked in your head – you nodded to yourself as if confirming whatever you’ve concluded, and turned your back to him.

That was an hour ago. Now, the team has spread across everyone’s desks. Turns out, Hotch is a big fan of gingerbread - he’s consumed most of Derek and Penelope’s creation, icing and all, while Rossi has decided now is a good time to open one of the many bottles of whiskey he has in his office.

Spencer believes having that much alcohol in your work environment is breaking some kind of rule, but the snow isn’t letting up and it looks like a sleepover in the BAU office is likely. He deserves a little whiskey.

And where are you in all of this?

Spencer won’t lie and pretend he hasn’t had you in his line of sight the entire time, so he’ll recap what you’ve been doing: laughing at Derek’s jokes, plaiting Penelope’s hair, eating the candy Emily and JJ didn’t use on their house.

You’d left the room to call home and check up on things (check up on Mike, Spencer thinks bitterly) and now you stand in front of the large window by the BAU elevators, watching the snow fall.

Spencer has the perfect view of you through the glass doors. When the call ends and you stay there, he grabs a paper plate, grabs one of the walls from yours and his masterpiece and makes his way towards you.

He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how he’ll even act, but he wants to talk to you. Things feel weird after the almost-kiss, and Spencer never wants things to be weird with you. He can’t have things weird with you. You hadn’t talked to him once since the competition, and he has a feeling you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

So he does. If that’s what you need, he’ll do it.

(He’s making this more dramatic than it needs to be, really, but he feels everything so deeply when it comes to you)

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice perfectly matches the snowy atmosphere. It makes you feel warm inside, like you’ve just taken a sip of hot cocoa, and so often he’s left goosebumps on your skin just from speaking.

Seeing the outstretched paper plate in his hand, you take it gratefully. “Hi there. Thanks.” You nod to the gingerbread that you begin breaking up.

You hand him the first piece even though he brought it for you, and it’s silent while you both chew thoughtfully and watch the pure white outside. It doesn’t feel weird, necessarily, standing here, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, but you’re certainly more in your head than usual. You’re thinking a lot and, as much as it hurts him, Spencer knows you’re likely preoccupied by your boyfriend and not what transpired between you earlier.

It’s that thought, that disappointment settling into his chest, that opens his mouth unconsciously: “How’s Mike? Does he know you’re not making it home tonight?”

He regrets it immediately, worsened by the way you stop mid-chew, eyes dimming like Spencer’s taken a baseball bat and shattered the lights inside.

This is unchartered territory – talking about Mike with you – and you know it. Who, in their right mind, willingly asks the person they have feelings for how their relationship with someone that isn’t you is going? Does Spencer enjoy pain?

Although this is the first time Spencer’s mentioned Mike to your face (he’s mentioned Mike plenty to a laughing Derek), he’s been so close to presenting the topic many times. He wants to know so badly – wants to know how well Mike treats you, really treats you (he will profile you), if you see a long-term future with him and if not, on average how long does it take you to get over your exes? Just an estimate?

You swallow the gingerbread you’re eating. “He’s okay. My roommate has to take care of him, but at least he’s got someone.”

Huh?

Since when do you have a roommate?

And why is your roommate taking care of your boyfriend?

Oh. Guilt blooms in Spencer when it registers that he’s been thinking ill of a person that might be sick. No wonder you dote on him so much and seemed devastated to make that phone call home earlier - Mike needs you, you can’t be there for him, and you feel horrible for it.

Spencer feels horrible for having the subject of his anger be someone you so clearly cherish, so deeply love. He’s embarrassed that if he was asked to explain why he hates Mike so much, he’d have to tell them it’s because Mike has you, and you’re what Spencer wants. What about what you want?

“Take care of him?” Spencer asks. The concern is genuine, which is an emotion he never thought he’d have in regards to Mike. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh,” You shrug. “He needs someone watching over him at all times, that’s all.”

That’s all?

You continue. “Make sure he eats – and only eats what he’s supposed to. Give him his meds. Make sure he poops. Those kinda things.”

What?

“Your… roommate makes sure your boyfriend poops?”

Now, Spencer knows what you look like when you’re confused. Honestly, he has every facial expression you’ve graced him with tucked away in a proverbial box he spends too much time thinking about. He knows that when you’re trying not to laugh, you bite the inside of your left cheek. When you’re frustrated but need to present a professional front, you bite the inside of your right cheek. Happiness fills your entire face, like every inch is consumed by it, and you’ve trained yourself to transport anger to your hands, where they twist into tight fists and leave fingernail marks in your palms.

Confusion is one of his favourites (second only to joy – for obvious reasons. Have you seen your smile?) because it takes many forms. You’ve pursed your lips, narrowed your eyes, tapped your foot on the floor. When you do them all, Spencer considers it a jackpot. There’s something about the way you look when you’re presented with something you can’t quite figure out yet, when you’re perplexed, that just-

You make it hard for him to concentrate. He can’t be a genius when you’re around because you’re so pretty. You’re a vision and he can never rattle off information to you specifically because he will trip up and divert to talking about the beauty that is you and that would be embarrassing for many reasons.

But this type of confusion? The way you’re looking at him right now? He’s never seen this before. Your jaw has dropped, your brows are furrowed so deeply they might fall off, and you look… horrified.

“My… my boyfriend?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend. Mike?” He looks around, waiting for cameramen to jump out and tell him he’s being pranked, because why don’t you know who your own boyfriend is?

You move slowly, placing the half-eaten plate on the windowsill before turning to face Spencer fully. You take a second to compose yourself.

“Mike is my cat.”

Mike is…

“And he’s having digestive issues, so he needs to be watched pretty much full-time.”

Silence. Tense, weird silence.

“…You thought Mike was my boyfriend?”

Spencer sputters, then, because of course he did! “Yes! The way you talk about him was… it was… it seemed…”

He flustered, oh so flustered, hands flailing and face enflamed and burning from the inside out. How had he not known?! How had… how had your wires gotten so convoluted, so mixed?

Does everyone know that Mike is a cat? Is Spencer the only one out of the loop? The look Emily gave him earlier, that knowing too-smug look, was that…

She was making fun of him. She knew he thought Mike was a person, not a pet, and was teasing him because of it.

All at once, the world seems lighter and dimmer – a contradiction that leaves Spencer’s chest heaving – because the past year feels like a lie. He’s spent so long seeing the way you come to life when talking about Mike, sitting opposite you on the jet as you awaken like a dying flower watered when home got closer and closer, and it was all for… a cat?

There’s a mist over Spencer’s eyes as he recalls every overheard declaration of love and coos of how handsome Mike is, and you’re laughing. Spencer’s having a crisis in front of your very eyes and you’re laughing. Hunched over, a single tear falling from your eye, clutching your stomach because it hurts from the ferocity of your giggles.

By the time you quieten, your hand is over your mouth to cover the big grin that grounds him, gives him something other than this revelation to focus on. Spencer’s still baffled, frazzled, but there’s the tiniest of smiles on his face because of how overjoyed you look. And he did that. Albeit his stupidity did it, but Spencer’s stupidity nonetheless.

You’re out of breath. “God I… I don’t even know what to say. You really thought my cat was my boyfriend?”

Spencer’s fighting a smile, lips wiggling. The way you’re looking at him now, all blinding smile and crinkled eyes, alleviates him of any anxiety he earlier had. Like you’ve wiped away his plate-full of worries, all the times it felt like he took an arrow to the heart, all the times he caught you smiling at your phone because you were looking at pictures of Mike, it’s all worth it. Because you’ve never looked like this while talking about Mike, and Mike is a cat. He isn’t a person, isn’t your boyfriend. Mike is a cat and Spencer has a chance.

Spencer has a chance.

“Does this… this means you’re single, right?”

A somewhat terrified look overtakes his face.

“Oh, shoot, you are single, right?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Yes, Spencer. I’m single.”

He lets out a breath. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.” He repeats your nod, realises what he said could imply, and starts shaking his head. “Not-not good good. You’re incredible and need to be appreciated, but… good, because that means we could, you know…” He gestures vaguely. God, why can’t he get coherent words out? “If you wanted to, we could-“

“Are you trying to ask me out, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

Just to cause immense emotional distress, you raise an eyebrow, mischief clear on your face, and wait for him to continue.

“You want me to actually ask?” He winces.

“I’ve spent the last year convinced you didn’t like me, so, yes, I want you to actually ask.”

The new information sends ice down Spencer’s back because what? Since when? “You- what?“

“I’ve liked you for a while, Spencer,” You cross your arms over your body, slightly embarrassed. “But you always kept your distance so I did too, I guess.”

“I thought you were taken!” Spencer exclaims. “If I’d known I would’ve-we could’ve- I would-“

“You’d what, Reid?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, but there’s no denying you’re incandescently happy.

He takes a deep breath and asks what he’s wanted to for far too long. “When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Relief flashes in your eyes, like you didn’t fully believe what was happening until he finally asked, and words have never sounded as pretty as when you say: “Yes. Yes I would.”

Like lovesick idiots, you stand in front of the window with the snowfall as a backdrop, grinning at each other. You can’t help it – you lean up, press a kiss to his cheek that immediately sets his skin ablaze, and fall back onto your feet with a smile sweeter than all the sugar you’d consumed today.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

Somehow, despite the nerves and the way his heart is trying to leap into your hands, he manages to tell you, “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

+++

(Three weeks later, Spencer meets the Mike. Turns out he’s a nice guy. Spencer takes the first opportunity he can to apologise for all the bad things he said about him behind his back. The purring tells Spencer he’s forgiven)

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @prettyboy-reid @shadyladyperfection

[eureka-its-zico]

Irrevocably Yours Pt. 2

Part 1 

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has some of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So Part 2 is that slow burn build up (with possible cute moments?) and part 3 will be the actual SMUTTY goodness. Hopefully this is something cute and fluffy that is enjoyable and helps progress the story a little more so when a full length next part of a bunch of smut comes it all makes sense. Or idk anymore lol I edited this thing four times and I just really hope you all like it  Please enjoy this wordy mess. I wasn’t sure how to properly write it out the end and yeah...I winged it. If it needs to be fixed lmk please!! As always, I hope you all enjoy. Much love, Jenn

P.s. when I wrote this I listened to Lauv’s “I Like Me Better,” and Pink Sweat$ Feat. Kehlani’s “At My Worst,” on repeat like crazy.

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 15,496 (I know:it’s a hefty boy)

Genre: Fluffy/Smutty, slow burn, 

The next day at school you weren’t a hundred percent sure what was going to happen. And sure, maybe you did wake up from a dream replaying that moment in the mud. The ending is a little bit different. This time, dream you didn’t let your chance to kiss him go by. When the opportunity presented itself, and you were both looking at one another like before, you’d leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t surprised to feel him kissing you back. 

You could still feel the ghost of the imagination of him leaning down to press his lips against yours. The way he leaned in; eyes soft with longing as his body leaned deeper in against you. The weight of him pressing you into the mud until you were sure an imprint of this moment would be there forever. This imaginary kiss you’d shared was sweet, chaste, and everything you could’ve hoped for. Deepening at the last second as your alarm blared you back into realty. 

It made you want to ring your hands through your hair in frustration. 

Your whole walk to school was nothing but foggy images of the dream on repeat. A mixture of yesterday’s events accompanied them with each frame until you weren’t sure which was the actual moments or what your head had created. I mean, you did know he didn’t kiss you, but...the look in his eyes. Maybe Jungkook hadn’t, but there was that moment you swore maybe he felt the painful comedic romance moment of it all too. 

All these unanswered what if’s you'd created had built an impossible chasm that seemed to stretch infinitely wider between you in your head. In the end, you were your own bully as your mind stayed up until three that morning playing out every scenario you could think of. Even the ones that ended with you probably reading everything wrong, because what did you know about body language? Or, more specifically, boys built like Jeon Jungkook.

It didn’t matter that you had two tests today and never finished your homework for home period, but what the hell. Nothing like hopelessly daydreaming about the boy who may or may not have flirted with you and harmonized along to songs with a hidden voice of an angel, am I right? And sure, a large part of your night was  spent chastising yourself half the time to remind you there was no way in hell Jungkook could feel that way towards you. Even just a little. Your inner monologue of bringing yourself back down to earth, another culprit in the growing list of reasons why none of your assignments were completed. 

What can you say? You were a mess.

Your only game plan you’d been able to agree on was just to daydream out the window. Writing out your own hapless love story starring the boy who sat across from you in the home room. With a silent plea to the universe that you weren’t called on to answer any questions. 

Your arrival at homeroom was met with barely seconds to spare. The bell rang behind you, and a few other students, as you rushed towards your desk. 

“Hurry, hurry to your seats! Or I’ll write you up as late!”

Mr. Choi was all talk. Everyone knew it and his excessive arm movements to rush every body that passed his desk made him look exactly like a conductor. His crazy movements were enough to distract you for a split second from the one person you were desperate to ignore. 

“Good morning, class. I hope you are all fully rested and awake for class this morning. Let’s have us open our books to page two hundred and forty-two and continue on with our lesson.” 

In unison the sound of backpacks unzipping with students reaching in their backpacks to bring out textbooks filled the class. The only person who didn’t currently have said book was holding his hand up, and seated directly across from you. 

“Yes, Jungkook?”

“Seonsaengnim, I’m sorry. I haven’t received my textbooks yet.”

“Ah, that’s alright, Jungkook. You can go ahead and share with Y/N, again.”

You hoped your face wasn’t giving away the panic you felt rising up to match the blush that was streaking across your cheeks. Jungkook’s hand was already on the leg of your desk. His fingers tips grazing across your knee in passing as his hand wrapped around the bar and used it to bring you closer to him. You kept your eyes glued to page two hundred and forty-three and refused to look in his direction. Jungkook seemed to find a way to remedy this; his hand came into view and grabbed hold of the book corner and slid it over to his side. And as if he was the world’s greatest magician, he now had your attention. 

Your eyes immediately shoot up to acknowledge his presence, instead of staying on the book. You knew that devilish smirk of his would be there to greet you even before you actually saw it. 

“Well, good morning to you too, Y/N.”

His voice practically hummed a tune as he spoke. His eyes heavily searched your face, and you prayed whatever he found wasn’t any lasting signs of rosy cheeks. 

“Good morning, Jungkook. I hope you slept well.”

“I slept very well, thank you.”

“That’s good-“

He cut you off fast, his next words a hush of teasing: “Even though some crazy girl tried to smother me in mud yesterday.” 

Your world narrowed in on his smug position in his chair, but quickly realized he just wanted your attention. The smile he wore softened around the edges as his eyes tried to look away from you and yet found their way back. You did your best to hide your smile and must have failed miserably for his face noticeably brightened. 

“I’m sure if that’s what she was doing - which I doubt - you probably deserved it.” 

Jungkook pretended to be wounded and caused you to practically jump out of your seat when his free hand landed on top of yours. 

“I can’t believe you think I deserve to be smothered,” he pouted. 

You rolled your eyes in a weak attempt to look away from him. Anything to not be swallowed up by how stupidly cute he looked in this exact moment. The fingers that held your pencil lazily tapping on the pages of the math book to bring his focus to something else that wasn’t you. 

“We need to pay attention.”

It was the only valuable excuse you could come up with to look away from him. But who were you kidding? You didn’t have to be looking in Jungkook’s direction to be painfully aware that he was there. His own gaze burned straight through you and left a trail of heat everywhere his eyes seemed to land. 

Right now, you were aware they were on your lips and stirring every emotion from your dream you tried to suppress. Plus, you weren’t being cute. Unless Jungkook found the sight of you chewing your bottom lip into dust attractive. 

It was a terrible nervous habit that seemed to only backfire right this second. You were sure he was ready to make a comment on it. You waited patiently for it to come in between you mindlessly copying equations off the board and the sea of arms flying up to answer whatever it was you’d just written. My gosh, you were trying so damn hard to not pay attention that you were doing nothing but paying attention to him. 

Please don’t let him just see I’m doodling. 

Mr. Choi was in the middle of showing how to work out a long equation when you decided it was safe to give Jungkook a glance. It was instantaneous how quickly you regretted it. 

You jumped back against your seat in a weak attempt to recover some space. You weren’t exactly sure how you’d missed it -missed him- getting so close, but you had. Jungkook’s face was mere inches from yours and it took everything to not show him you weren’t at all bothered. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered fiercely. “What.are.you.doing!”

Jungkook ignored your question. His eyes squinting as they looked around the side of your head. The gesture made you increasingly subconscious until you couldn’t keep your hand from going up to brush alongside it. 

“What? What is it?”

You were expecting the worst. 

“I think I see some mud still stuck inside your ear.”

And like magic your earlier blush reappeared. Your tongue rolled against the bottom of your teeth in a weak attempt to keep yourself from smiling. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to stop it as the urge to give in tugged mercilessly at your lips. The playful glint in his eyes was enough to keep the panic of how incredibly close he still was. Your eyes hopelessly glancing at the pair of lips that plagued your dreams. 

Jungkook noticed. 

And how did you know this, you might ask? 

Jungkook gave it away by the dramatic way his lower lip was drawn in by his teeth. Every movement he made sure was exaggerated and stupidly slow. His eyes watch for your reaction. He didn’t have to wait long; your eyes were glued to them long before his teeth joined the equation. You should’ve felt more embarrassed at your own blunt display - or maybe at his -but, god help you, you weren’t. 

You tore your gaze away from him and did your best to pretend whatever part of the lesson you’d missed was interesting. The dirt on your shoes could’ve been more interesting at this moment; anything to keep you from looking back at him. 

“I rinsed my hair three times in the shower. Thank you very much.” 

“Did you think of me while you were washing yourself clean?”

If what Jungkook was after was seeing your face light up brighter than a tomato he’d succeeded. Your cheeks instantly flushed and felt scolding hot. The only line of defense you could think of to fight the devilish look in his eyes was to give him a smack on his arm. The motion only caused his sinister smile to turn into a full blown grin; a bark of laughter leaving him seconds later. 

Jungkook chuckled out an, “Ouch!” His body leaning back, faux wounded, and rays of sunshine pouring out of him in waves. 

“I meant when you were getting the mud out of your hair.” His voice carried the singing sweetness of his laughter; airy and light. This boy who you did think of in the shower. All hard edges and softness; sour and sweet. Your very own sour patch kid. “I mean, I thought of you when I tried scrubbing it out from behind my ears.”

Your heart gave a brief jump at his omission. What you wished you would’ve focused on was the fact he’d admitted to thinking of you...in his own shower. But nope! Instead, your mind appeared to focus more on the fact it was while he scrubbed at his ears. 

“I scrubbed my ears too.”

Oh. My. God, you inwardly cringed. 

Is that really what your magical brain decided to say in return? Jungkook leaned back in, eyes inspecting not just your ear, but your entire space. Recklessly moving in dangerously close, and your heart was ready to beg for mercy. Whether to completely close the space between you or to stop teasing, of which you weren’t sure. 

“It appears you didn’t do that good of a job,” he huffed.

A gurgled scream flew into your throat; the sound was utterly ridiculous and Jungkook ate it up. His head flew back in laughter as your hand moved to swat at him again. 

The disruption turned the attention of your teacher directly to the two of you, and Mr. Choi was quick to address it. 

“Jean Jungkook! Y/L/N, Y/N!”

The both of you rose from your seats in unison. Jungkook’s rise the definition of graceful, while yours in comparison was met with anxiety and your knees colliding with your desk. Your small “Oomph,” of pain sending him into a fit of giggles beside you. The hand you sent in to pinch at his leg only sent him into another fit. 

“Y/N!”

Stupid, stupid! Of course he would see.

“Seonsaengnim!”

To appease him, you felt your body respond in a ninety-degree salute. Your face keeping down to stare at your shoes and praying you weren’t about to be sent out of the room. 

“Would you mind explaining what Jungkook and you found so interesting that the two of you felt like you didn’t need to be a part of class.”

God, it wasn’t a question. He really wanted you to tell him, and what could you say? 

“Oh, he was just asking me if I was in the shower...thinking of him. And he was thinking of me too!”

Which wasn't a lie. Maybe it wasn’t as dirty as he might have intended, but it was enough to make your cheeks flush to life with their usual color these days. Your mind was still racing with an appropriate answer for Mr. Choi. You were taking so long you were ready to blurt out anything he might want to hear. 

“Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook gave a respectful bow and lifted his head. His full attention now resting on the impatiently waiting man at the front of the class. “We were discussing the fact that you, respectfully, have written the equation wrong on the board.” 

The entire class seized up. A collective air was taken at Jungkook’s bold attempt to correct him. It was awkwardly obvious that he wasn’t happy at the idea of being corrected. However, Jungkook remained unfazed and waited for the right time to speak. 

“Is that so?” He snapped. “If it is so wrong, Jeon, then please, come and fix it for me.”

You were sure his order for Jungkook to go to the front would make him back down . No one enjoyed doing class work on the board up front for all to see. But you’d forgotten Jungkook wasn’t like everyone else. He kept his head high and moved to grab his cane; his hand wrapping tightly to its handle. Jungkook stepped out from inside his desk and let his feet carry him forward. He walked with a noticeable lack of a limp and you were willing to bet that strike of pride was costing him. 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t believe that Jungkook was able to walk without it. It was just that your memory forced you to recall the pain he was in during the field trip. The flashes of frustration as his eyes threatened to spill over with tears. 

Jungkook came to stand beside Mr. Choi. His hand reaching out to take the marker that the older man had held out waiting for him to prove his equation wrong. He plucked it from the older man’s hand and moved the last few inches to stand in front of the board. His eyes scanning the problem quickly. Your breath held tight in your chest as you watched him get permission to grab the eraser. The class transfixed on his every movement.

You wondered how many of the girls in your class focused on him like you were. The same way your eyes ate up every simple movement he made. The notable flex of his back while he stretched to erase the middle and last part of what Mr. Choi had written out. 

“You had a good start here, Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook paused to stretch out his hand. Fingers marking underneath the start of the problem. “But you didn’t multiply these after they were divided, and because of this the middle became wrong. With your core of the problem being wrong the solution was never able to end in its final conclusion.”

With every word, Jungkook’s voice became more self-assured. His presence enveloping the room and demanding the attention he’d already received without question. Mr. Choi watched on with his arms crossed; index finger hugging his mouth in concentration as he watched Jungkook work. From the back of the class, you could see students writing down the new formula. Some of them realized the obvious error Mr. Choi had made. 

Jungkook looked at the problem over again on repeat. If it’d been you, you would have left it where it was knowing you’d done what no one else did. But Jungkook wanted to know, for himself, that it was correct. 

Finally, he stepped back from the whiteboard and handed the marker back to Mr. Choi. Who looked measurably impressed with him. His index finger he’d used for thinking now covered up a timid smile before he dropped it to grab a hold of the marker. 

“Go ahead and have a seat, Jungkook.”

Jungkook gave him a passing bow as he made his way back towards the back of the class. Back to you. It took everything you had not to notice how everyone’s view of him seemed to change. Even the honor students; the ones bound for scholarship glory to prestigious colleges now seemed to take new interest in him. 

You’d heard stories about Jungkook, like everyone else did. The Boy Wonder. The boy who seemed unfairly good at everything. Before you’d ever met him, a part of you believed there wasn’t a way the universe would seriously do that. And yet, as he moved to sit back down beside you, you suddenly felt the overwhelming sensation of being below average. Your subconscious rose up to stop whatever sunlight you’d felt at his earlier words, and crushed it until it began to dim. All but snuffing it out. 

Jungkook fell back into the seat at his desk riding the high of confidence he’d gained from proving he’d know how to fix the answer. Not just know it; teach it. The air around him completely changed. He was the sun and the rest of you were becoming helplessly lost in his orbit. From the backwards glances of the others around you, you were pretty sure they weren’t going to mind one bit. 

Either Jungkook was honestly oblivious to all the attention or he just didn’t care. He practically beamed as he leaned himself closer to you completely unaware at how breathless he made you. That smile you’d admired during your field trip showed itself beaming and bright. He was so damn pleased with himself his eyes sparked with joy and you wish you could’ve pouted. Maybe found the strength not to care or to wonder if he could see how he affected you. 

You wanted to pout and be in your own bubble, damn it. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I don’t think he’ll bother us again.”

Us. 

Those butterflies you’d sworn to yourself you were not feeling towards him began to come to life. Or were they butterflies? You weren’t sure what to call the feeling Jungkook gave you. 

Sure, Jungkook made your heart thunder in your chest like a caged animal. And yea, maybe you swore to yourself there was an attraction there that you couldn’t explain, but that was just your dopamine talking. That didn’t mean the two of you were soulmates or the universe decided to bring you both together by a mess of unseen choices. 

But...when Jungkook looked at you this way it was hard to tell your thundering heart anything else. 

The two of you continued to look at one another. A heartbeat of time passing between you with Jungkook waiting for your reply. You watched the edges of his smile start to wilt as realization set in that you weren’t planning to  reply. No smile or teasing remark was headed his way, and just as fast as he noticed it, determination swiftly replaced the light weighted joy he’d shown moments earlier. 

“Hey, you don’t have to worry. I’m positive he will leave us alone the rest of the class. I promise.”

God, why did he have to make things so difficult? When Jungkook spoke the words, “I promise,” they’d been so earnest. He meant them. Here he was trying to turn the tables and be your knight, instead of you being his. It would have worked, but what he didn’t know was that you weren’t worried about Mr. Choi. Not really. 

No one could tear you down further than you were able to do to yourself. 

He was still waiting for the answer that you would never give. You turned to face forward in your chair and tried to forget the ripple of sadness that moved over his face. The cost of your stubbornness suddenly felt too high. No matter how it made you feel though, you refused to look over in his direction. 

An awkward chasm had built between the two of you. Mostly, well, obviously it was all because of you. You figured Jungkook would eventually stop looking at you. You prayed he would stop. Every time he did it your body became painfully aware of his gaze, and the longing it held for you to acknowledge him. And every time you remained facing front. You no longer could pretend to focus, however, and that seemed to be all the signs Jungkook needed to know you were in some way paying attention.

Your notebook that’d been left unattended on the desk became his private art museum. The doodles started off silly and slowly morphed into small faces and objects that held impressive detail. You tried your best to ignore it; his arm practically took up most of the space on your desk. The angle forced him to shoulder into your space to the point that if you did finally turn to look at him you’d run inches away from his cheek. 

You were doing your best to pay attention to whatever your teacher was doing at the front. Your eyes watched as a wave of hands went up to answer questions you’d never heard. Yours kept sliding back down to the latest doodle he was making. The latest one he was working on had forced Jungkook to move further inland on your notepad. His forearm getting dangerously close to having to rest in your lap. 

It continued like this the remainder of class. For all the effort you’d put in the last half hour of pretending he wasn’t there, Jungkook shattered it within seconds. 

He’d repositioned himself with each new doodle he started. His shoulder wedged itself against yours and his forearm had completely taken up what little space was left on your desk. You were trying very hard to not pay attention to how said forearm was dangerously close to your chest. There was no hiding the redness of your cheeks. 

Without thinking, you whipped your head to look at him and almost yelled. You knew he was close, but nothing prepared you for this.

“Excuse me,” you whispered, voice incredulous. 

Jungkook turned to look at you and...was he pouting? His eyes played up on the childish quality as he turned to you and batted his eyes.

“Can I help you?”

“Ugh, can I help you? Do you need paper or something?”

“I have paper right here. Thanks.”

Jungkook patted the notepad with the end of his pen. Satisfied with his answer he turned his attention back to his latest artistic endeavor. 

“You know this is my desk. Right?”

“I like to think of it more like our desk. Sharing a space like we shared music.”

“Ya, Jungkook. You realize you blackmailed me into using my ipod.”

Jungkook feigned shock. His mouth dropping open and his eyes brows going too high up into his hairline. The entire scene was exaggerated and ridiculous. The scene forced you to roll your lips against your teeth to keep from smiling. The effort it took to hide your grin wasn’t unnoticed by Jungkook, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that’d been his goal all along. 

“Blackmail sounds so crass. I like to think of it as bargaining.”

“So we agree it’s called blackmail, then.” 

The theatrics of his face dropped into a serious stare that left his face completely blank. Void of all emotion except the annoyance that drew a heavy frown from his face. It was stupidly cute and this time you did allow yourself to smile. Your fingers reached out to grab one of his puffed out cheeks and gave it a sweet pinch, like a grandmother, and cooed in his direction. 

“Oooooh Jungkookie, don’t frown. We’ve all gotta be wrong sometimes.” 

He playfully nipped at your hand to make you snatch it away. It took everything in you not to make a sound at his sudden movement. Your mouth hung open in an awkward smile-shout as you brought your handle against your chest. 

“I think you’re misinterpreting the facts here. Maybe you hit your head on a small pebble or something when you fell in the mud.”

“You mean when you pulled me in.”

He shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “I don’t think I recall any force being used yesterday. You just fell on my chest trying to take advantage of me in my time of need.”

Now it was your turn to look deadpanned in his direction. Jungkook didn’t try to hide his wicked smile, however, and the cage of butterflies that were housed in your gut were released all over again. 

“Your appa must be a lawyer. It’d explain why you’re so good at bullshitting.”

“CEO, actually. But I would say you’re close. They are also full of shit.” 

You weren’t sure what to say to this omission about his father. Underneath the sarcasm felt like a heavy chasm that spoke of the death of a relationship. Your curiosity threatened to get the best of you, but you decided to just throw it away. Filing it away inside a little folder you’d made for little known facts about him. 

The bell rang and the mass of bodies in class all began to rise from their seats. All of them eager to rush from the classroom and do whatever plans they’d made to enjoy their little bit of freedom. You were reaching for your bookbag when Jungkook’s hand was just there. A part of you worried he’d decided to play a game of keep away, or something that fit his playful mood, Instead, he placed it down on the desk. 

“Oh, thank you, Jungkook.”

God. Why were you staring? Why was he staring?

The room was still filled with the small display of chaotic teenage energy. Most of them had already filed out of the classroom, while some were still putting things away. Honor students were arguing with the teacher about markings he’d left on papers. Small groups of friends chatting happily as they moved in tight clusters through the door. So much was going on around you, and yet the only person you were aware of was him. 

“You’re welcome. Have a good lunch, Y/N.”

The playful air that’d been around him had completely disappeared. This boy who stood before you now was more reminiscent of when you’d first met than the boy you’d grown to like. What had made him grow so distant?

“You too, Kookie.”

It slipped out. You couldn’t stop yourself. He’d already started to walk away in his retreat. As soon as his pet name you’d given him hit his ears he completely stopped moving. His head whipped around to glance at you with that devilish grin raised high on his cheeks. 

“Kookie? Are you calling me a snack?”

If your eyes could’ve gotten any wider, they would’ve left your skull. The embarrassment was hot on your cheeks and you knew Jungkook would tease you without mercy for the slip up. By the look in his eyes you could tell he was never going to let this go. Not ever. He would be too happy to remind you of this until the day you died. Or until graduation. Whichever came first.

This time you scooped up your bookbag and snatched your book off the desk clutching them to your chest. In your haste to grab them and go, your knee collided with the edge of the desk, but you’d worry about that possible bruise later. You just needed to flee before Jungkook got any closer. 

“No, no. It was an accident.”

“You called me a snack by accident?”

You were backing up towards the safety of the open hallway. Your shoulders shrugging too high and your laugh too high-pitched in your attempt to play it cool.

“No snack nicknames here. It was just a slip of the tongue. I must just be hungry, ya know.”

“Are you hungry for me?”

Oh, he was intolerable sometimes. It didn’t matter how flustered he made you. A part of you knew his endless teasing was growing on you. You liked it, and the sane part of you wondered if you’d gone crazy. 

“Ya, Jungkook-”

“I think you mean, Kookie,” he cut in. 

Jungkook held a single finger up to silence you. He’d stopped moving towards you and let out a laugh as you tried to swat his hand down. He looked so much happier than he did moments ago. That alone made his teasing at your expense worth it. 

“No I mean, Jungkook. It’s the name your parents gave you.” You stated, proud that your voice sounded more stable than you felt. “I’m gonna go eat my lunch now. You should do the same and I’ll...see you later.”

You waited for him to argue. To continue to make comments in passing to keep your face rosy and flushed. He surprised you by just standing there in silence. His smile wide on his face and eyes looking at you like you’d held the moon. A look you weren’t used to and made you unsure how to respond. 

You started to walk back towards the door and found yourself disappointed when he didn’t follow. You sent him an awkward wave as your arms still held onto your things from your desk. Jungkook showed his amusement by giving you a wave in return.

“See you later, Y/N.”

At his words you turned on your heel and headed out towards the courtyard. No longer eager to eat your lunch that you’d packed. Your mind replayed his words and knew, without a doubt, he would keep his word.

—————-

Lunch went by as quickly as it came. Instead of eating your lunch with friends, you’d opted for sulking in the auditorium. Absentmindedly taking small bits off your food as you considered what had happened between Jungkook and you. 

There was flirting there. You may be a little delusional, but you weren’t delusional about this. It was obvious to anyone who witnessed it and yet you tried to deny its existence at every turn.  Of course, you knew why. 

It just didn’t make logical sense. You were two opposites that shouldn’t be in the least bit interested in the other. Well, that didn’t really seem correct when it came to Jungkook. He was attractive to everyone and probably even inanimate objects. But you...you just couldn’t see yourself that way. You’d only ever had one relationship in your life and it had been short-lived and in the third grade. 

Throwing what little was left of your sandwich back inside it’s little brown coffin, you removed yourself from your spot. A huff left you as you reached out to pick up your mess and started to hop back down the steps one-by-one. 

You weren’t sure what walking around was going to do. For the hundredth time since this day started, you were lost in your own head. The only thing you knew for certain was that you’d hoped to run into him again. A thought came to you that maybe, just this day, he’d shown up in the school's cafeteria. 

You could think of a million excuses for why you’d need to go into the cafeteria and it wouldn’t be weird. Just the thought of not coming off weird, while most certainly being weird, made you beam at your own creativity. 

You’d reached the last step and we’re crossing the field when you noticed, on the other side, the very boy you were looking for. He was alone and sitting under the shade of the only tree next to the amphitheater. His back against the bark and a knee drawn up to give his notepad a place to perch. Whatever he was writing, drawing, or formulating held his interest and refused to let him look up. 

All your previous bravado deflated in a second. It would be harder to deny you weren’t actively seeking him out if you went to him now. But, who said that you wanted too? 

Grabbing the strap of your book bag tight, you started back on your mission. Your legs made quick work across the field. It wasn’t until there was only a few feet left between you that he looked up. His brow still furrowed in tight creases of concentration as he decided if you were a friend or foe. Your feet almost tripped over themselves when he smiled at you. 

“Y/N!” He called happily. “What brings you over here?”

“I came looking for my snack.”

The surprise on his face made your bold choice of a response worth it. Jungkook, being who he was, quickly recovered and set his notebook and pencil down beside him. He placed his arms casually on his propped up leg and leaned forward as if he was about to tell you a secret. 

“Well, you found me. Why did you come looking for me? Really.”

You tried to think quickly of what to say. The idea of telling him the truth, that you’d just wanted to see him, felt painfully honest and might press him to ask for you to explain. How could you explain that in the short time you’d met him he was both the most interesting and infuriating man you’d ever met. But he was also the most beautiful, and had a delicate softness under his hard exterior that you were growing to love. He was basically the perfect description of the onion from Shrek. 

An idea clicked in your head and your hands quickly moved inside your bag and produced another brown bag. 

“I wanted to come see if you’d eaten. I had some spare kimchi rice ball’s my omma made.”

You extended the bag out to him. Your eyes locked together as you waited for him to either accept it or deny it. Jungkook surprised you by leaning forward and taking it gently from you. It took some effort, but he crossed his legs -his bad one in an awkward position - and plopped the bag down between his legs. 

You moved to sit beside him in the grass and took your book bag off your shoulder and into your lap. You watched as he moved to open the bag and peered cautiously inside. 

“It’s not a bomb,” you chided. 

“I never know with you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile spreading like wildfire across your lips. Jungkook was so charismatic it felt inevitable and fighting against it was futile. He took a large bite of the rice ball and practically swooned. His eyes had fallen shut and a ridiculous chanting of endless “Mhm’s” had started rising up around you. 

“Should I leave you two alone?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open and for a moment you were worried maybe you did pull him out of some weird food ritual. His eyes were blank and then, all at once, he was back to being his usual animated self. The hand that held the rice ball shaking in your direction before shoving what was left inside his mouth. 

“This is unbelievably delicious.” He mumbled around his food. “You said your omma made these?”

“Yup!”

You’d said it in English just to dramatically pop the P at the end. Extending out your own kind of dramatics to match Jungkook’s. You leaned your hands back into the grass and noticed Jungkook watch your every move as you did. 

“Is your omma married?”

Your face fell into a deadpan stare as you replied, “Seriously? Of course her and my appa are still married, you creep.”

“If you can cook like your omma, Y/N I’m willing to lend you my amazing tutoring services. All for the low price of making things as delicious as this.”

He was already mid-way through shoving the second rice ball in his mouth. His head tilted back to drop it down. A piece of rice must have dislodged itself from its balled shape, because he erupted in a coughing fit. You couldn’t help but laugh as you handed him your water. 

“I think I’ll steer clear of rice treats. Just to make sure you don’t kill yourself.”

Jungkook was about to lift the bottle up to his lips and stopped. His eyes falling on you with a playful glare. You held your hands up in mock surrender as you leaned forward. Your hands clap together to get pieces of grass and soil from your hands. 

While he drank the water you’d offered up the two of you fell into companionable silence. You didn’t mind waiting and Jungkook was happy that you did. When he’d finished with the bottle, he set it down beside him. His hand moving like a flopping fish in your direction to make you give him something that you’d had no idea he’d asked for. 

“Come on. Let’s see your math homework.” 

“For what?”

“To start your tutoring. Duh.”

You hated how cute he’d made the word sound. The way his lips smiled around it and left him beaming at you like a little kid on Christmas. 

“Can we pass? We just left the class and I hate math. A lot.”

Jungkook tsked you but didn’t look disappointed. 

“You can’t get better at something if you give up on it. Luckily for you, you’ve got the best person in the subject to tutor you.”

“For a fee,” you pointed out. 

“All the best things come with a price. I’m most definitely one of them. Now. Book.”

His hand movements were more controlled now. His fingers simply waved once -twice- for you to hurry it up and place what he’d asked in his hand. You really didn’t want any part of this. The thought was sweet, but when you said you hated math you meant it. So yeah, maybe you were grumbling a little as you reached inside your book bag and taking a little longer than was necessary to hand it over. 

Jungkook took it from you in one smooth motion and had it open to the spot previously in class. All your homework problems you’d left unfinished glaring against the white of the page. His eyes were already scanning over what little problems you’d written down. A clicking noise from his closed mouth reminding you why exactly you hadn’t finished more of it. The reason was sitting right in front of you. 

His hand flicked back out and he held it open. His eyes never lifted off the page as he demanded, “Pencil.”

“What the heck? Why am I supplying everything.”

“Cause I’m supplying myself,” he shot back. His hands taking the pencil you handed over to him. “Plus, I also can’t seem to find any in my bag.” 

“You didn’t even look.”

Jungkook gave a graceful shrug. His attention was fully engrossed in the problems. You weren’t ready for how cute he looked. How adorable those concentration creases in his forehead made him look, even deadly serious, with his fingers tapping the pencil absentmindedly on the paper. When he figured out what was missing from the equation he quickly erased and reconfigured everything on the page. 

You were staring intently at him, both because his angle’s were ridiculously handsome but also, the way the sun fell down on him here, peaking through the trees, felt like magic. It was hard to believe the universe was more than just molecules and that luck was thrown out randomly. If it was, maybe you’d caught some. 

Your thoughts were running wild and your concentration was no longer in the safe zone. Maybe that’s why when he finally looked up from the notebook and found you staring he’d smiled. Not his teasing one. Or the condescending either. This smile was soft like a secret, and directed only at you. \

“See something you like?”

His voice was gentle in his playfulness. As if he wanted to take the cautionary approach in case you were spooked. 

“Maybe I do.”

A smile of your own spread to match his and Jungkook wasn’t surprised. He was just happy, and it was a lovely sight to see. He looked away from you with his hand moving up to smooth out the hair on the back of his neck. He flicked the pencil down on the notebook and brought it forward for you to see. 

“Let’s get back to this. I’ll be honest with you. It’s pretty bad. You missed a whole line on the third problem that left you with an incomplete answer. Not to mention,” he lifted up the notebook and motioned towards the whole page, “Where is all the rest of the homework?”

Jungkook’s voice was filled with the beginnings of laughter. Not specifically towards you, but just the blatant fact you did not care. You gave him your best nonchalant shrug. In reality, you did care. It bothered you it wasn’t finished. 

Your fingers were digging in the grass and ripping some of it up and throwing it out into the field. 

“I had a hard time concentrating last night. Plus, if I’m being honest math has always been the hardest subject for me.”

“And that is why I’m going to help you.”

“For a fee,” you reminded him. 

“I’ll teach you the easiest way I know how to do these and I promise you, you’ll be flying through these problems in no time.”

The sincerity in his voice was evident. Jungkook really believed it and he wanted you to believe it too. You just couldn’t understand why and you found yourself speaking your mind. 

“Why are you wanting to help me?”

It was his turn to shrug his shoulders. His face went blank as he looked at you one last time before he looked away. Whatever he was looking at he wasn’t really seeing. He just needed someplace else to look than the person he was talking to you. You did it plenty of times yourself. 

Whatever he’d decided on to say had caused his shoulders to square. Determined that whatever he needed to say he would make sure it meant something. 

“I like spending time with you.”

The smile you’d worn completely shattered as you stared at him. The butterflies rushed up and up until they trapped themselves in your throat. Jungkook’s admission was basically three words dropped away from just saying he liked you. 

This surprising admission should’ve been enough to make yourself not care who you saw walking. Or care when he stopped, his small mob with him, and start gesturing at his imaginary watch. His fingers rubbing together for money owed. 

It was worse when Jungkook looked back and took notice. Even worse when he looked back at you with questions swirling in his eyes. 

“Everything okay?”

Your eyes looked down to the safety of your hands. The way they were helplessly fidgeting back in the grass and tearing it apart like a miniature tantrum was brewing inside you. You hated that after all this time, you let Lee Kwon upset you by making you feel embarrassed about your dad. That he felt the need to tell everyone the business deal between his father and yours. How every time he told it he’d turned him more and more into a villain of his own misfortune. 

Without a reason why you took back your notebook from Jungkook and shoved it inside your bag. You were ready to leave. You didn’t want to explain, but you knew Jungkook wouldn’t let you just leave without one. 

He reached out and his hand gently wrapped around your wrist to stop you. There was no force. Nothing that hinted that he would keep you there if you didn’t want to be kept. Looking at him felt harder. His genuine worry almost threatened to let the tears from your frustration spill forward. 

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. Your vision dragging away from him and back to the retreating back of the sociopath, Lee Kwon. 

You didn’t try to shake him off. You actually felt comforted by his worrisome touch. The way he leaned in closer as if he would pull you into his arms at any moment. As much as you wanted that to happen, you knew it wouldn’t happen. A deep sigh had built up in your chest and you released it while you looked back at him. 

“Look. Eventually, I know you’re going to hear about it: my dad, I mean.”

“That’s kind of odd high school kids would talk about someone’s appa.”

“You and me both,” you agreed. “But Kwon’s dad is a banker who doesn’t believe in client confidentiality. So he tells his son about his day over dinner and-“

“And he decides to bring it to school to make your life miserable,” Jungkook finished for you. 

He understood and didn’t need you to simplify it anymore. His hand left your arm and you suddenly found yourself missing his comforting touch. It was still there, that comfort, in the way his eyes softened and he leaned in intent to listen to whatever you needed to get off your chest. You appreciated his attention, but also hated it at the same time. 

“What’s your Appa’s thing?”

God. He did understand. Maybe just a little too well for your liking. 

“Gambling. It started when I was in the seventh grade. At first it wasn’t anything too crazy. He’d always been able to even it out. But then he became obsessed with the idea of winning big. Kept betting on things we couldn’t afford to lose. Eventually, he bet too high and ended up losing the business he and my mom built together and our house. They had to pay the bank back.”

“A bank this dude’s Appa works at.”

“Correct. My Appa...he isn’t a bad man. He’s paid his debt and hasn’t gambled since. What good is it for me or anyone else to make him feel bad for the rest of his life?”

“I don’t get it. Why does that have to do with you, though?”

You’d wondered the same exact thing half of your adolescent life. You shrugged and looked at Jungkook wondering if maybe he’d be able to make sense of it better than you could. 

“Twelve year old boys enjoy making up stories. First it was that we became so poor we lived with pigs. That's why I smelled.”

You put air quotations around smelled and Jungkook practically howled with laughter. You tried your best to show no emotion, but could feel the corner of your lips threatening to curl into a smile. 

“He probably said it because you didn’t know how to wash back then and, judging from earlier, I still don’t think you do.”

You moved to playfully shove at his shoulder. A scoff of laughter leaving you even though you told yourself you wouldn’t. Jungkook was waiting for you to make a move and when you did he easily grabbed a hold of you. The feeling of intimacy, just like yesterday in the mud, was swimming back to the surface. 

Your eyes looked up into his with your laughter being met with a wide grin. The way he was looking at you now made you believe in fairytales and left your lips aching to be kissed. 

Before either of you could decide what to do next, the bell for the end of lunch sounded. You could hear it going off all around you, but still the two of you stayed holding each other. Your bodies close enough that if he wanted to make a move all Jungkook needed was to lean down. To say your heart dropped a little when he moved away was an understatement. 

You focused on getting up from the grass. Your hands patting down your uniform as you struggle to find something not so awkward to say. You wanted to sound confident. You wanted to sound like you weren’t affected by him at all. 

“Well, I’ll see you around.”

God, you sounded awkward. You turned to start heading to your next period. You closed your eyes tight and mouthed, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You’d gotten a few feet away when you heard him call to you. 

You turned to look back at him and found him still standing under the tree. His hands in his pockets and his eyes solely on you. 

“Would you let me walk you home?”

Did he really have to ask? You’d let him walk you to the edge of a volcano. You didn’t say that, however. You wanted to play it cool, but on the inside you were screaming. 

“I’d like that.”

When you turned back around to make your way to class, the memory of how his face had brightened at your reply, stayed with you. You couldn’t wait for the day to end. 

_________

True to his word Jungkook waited for you after school. You couldn’t help looking for him over the countless shoulders as you walked with the sea of students towards the entrance. The hole in the pit of your stomach opened back up from the underlying dreadful thought. That he wouldn't show up. You’d be left standing there waiting for him forever. But Jungkook continued to prove your pessimism wrong. 

The closer you got to the school’s gate, you were able to spot him instantly. He was leaning coolly against the gate. His bag at his feet and his cane positioned strategically out of view. If anyone just casually walked up, they would’ve never been able to tell he’d needed one. Maybe that was why he’d done it. 

He looked to be searching for someone in every face that passed him. It came to an end the minute his roaming eyes found you. No longer did he appear cool and composed. His body became animated with what you could only explain as a giddiness at your oncoming presence.

By the time you reached him, Jungkook was wearing his backpack on his shoulder and his cane in his hand. He was standing and waiting for you. The happiness at being next to you was intoxicating and you could only hope you looked the same. 

“It felt like I was waiting forever,” he admitted. 

The two of you started in sync out the gate and turned left onto the main road.

“It felt like an eternity just to get to you. I have Mrs. Chun’s chemistry class for the last period. The classroom is pretty far.”

“Mhm, like on a planet far far away.”

Your eyes rolled up to look at him. The affection you found in the warmth of his eyes was startling, but not a surprise. 

Your mom used to tell you to always be careful with smiling. It caused laugh lines. It helped make crows feet. That smiling was a woman’s secret enemy she never knew about when it came to aging. She told you over and over to be careful who or what you wasted smiles on. Smiling up at him now, Jungkook was definitely worth it just to see him respond with his own. 

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only, like, one planet away.” 

A soft hush of laughter left him as he looked away. His gaze roaming around the street signs and their multiple names before looking back at you. 

“Are we going the right way to your place? I just realized I never even asked for your address.”

“Does it matter? I mean, with your leg and all.” You hated yourself for spoiling the moment by bringing it up. You knew it was a touchy subject when it came to his leg for Jungkook. So you weren’t surprised to see that spark of warmth fade ever so slightly from his face. His smile wilted at the edges of his lips before it all but disappeared. “You know I’m sorry I said anything. I shouldn’t have. I mean obviously you know yourself and your limits. You wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t able to do it.”

You were rambling. You were fidgeting and waving your arms around while you talked, because why not? You were doing everything else besides hyperventilating at this point. All you knew was that you felt like a jerk for even bringing it up. When all you wanted was to know he was okay. 

You were so lost in the space inside your head and worrying that you didn’t notice him laughing at you. You were mid-arm swing. Inhaling for another round of mouth babble to start asking for forgiveness when he waved for you to stop. A finger tip landing on your lips to quiet the words in your throat by shocking you into silence.

“You really don’t have to apologize so much, Y/N. It’s alright. I understand why you would ask.”

You were tempted to lick his finger away, but it felt too intimate. But so was a finger on the lips. Before you could decide your next move from your internal dilemma, Jungkook solved it for you. His finger detaching from your lips as quickly as it’d come.

“No, you don’t. I’m just worried about you. I know I should trust you to know yourself better, but-“ you did an over exaggerated shrug as you finished: “I’m a worrier.” 

“I’m flattered, I have you to worry over me.”

You knew he was teasing you and you couldn’t have been happier. You preferred it to making him sad. Plus, he was back to looking at you like you controlled the stars and oh, what a wonderful look it was.

“You should be. I’ve only got so much extra space up here.”

You tapped your head for added effect and were rewarded with a soft laugh that was followed up by a smile. God, you could get used to this. 

“I guess I need to work harder to take up more space.”

“Please, no. Let’s not do that. I need my sanity.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing so well at flirting. Usually, your sarcasm won out and you resorted to awkward winking, but this was definitely an improvement. 

“I’m not sure you have much of that left either,” he joked. 

You tried to hide your laughter with a scoff. You knew you were failing miserably at being offended. Your mouth fighting too hard to ward off a smile as you playfully bumped your shoulder into his arm. Jungkook was ready for you with his cane digging into the sidewalk to give him extra stability. 

“Ya, if I do finally go crazy it’ll be your fault, specifically.” 

“I think you’d have a hard time proving that in court. My counter argument would be pretty persuasive.” 

You looked at him in shock. 

“Court? Wow...that escalated quickly.”

Jungkook nodded his reply. He stopped in front of a bookstore and pointed at a manga in the window. You weren’t too familiar with the title, but it's a cover you’d seen plenty of. 

“It would happen as quickly as an infection from a zombie’s bite. It would seem all slow until suddenly you jumped up and tried to eat me.” 

You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face as you glanced at him and back down to the manga. A part of you wondering if it was one he’d read before or just wanted to use to make his point. 

“Question: why are we together during a zombie outbreak?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s because I’ll be walking you home. I’ll try and save you and while feeling all heroic about it, I won’t even realize you’d been bitten until it’s too late.”

The two of you moved away from the bookstore window and began to walk back down the sidewalk. Your mind trying to dissect what he was trying to say, but all it left you with was imagining a zombie version of you trying to take a bite out of him. 

“You must watch too much Walking Dead.”

“It’s a good show,” he shrugged. 

“Did you know that there’s actually a fungus out there that’s sort of like a zombie infection. It’s called Ophiocordyceps. It basically infects the host and within nine days of infection it takes control of the host's body movements.”

You were still walking and looking around while you spoke. Your fingers running gently over a row of gardenia’s that were planted in carefully placed pots in front of someone’s home. You were aware Jungkook had left your side by the sudden coldness of his absence. You turned to look for him and found him standing a foot away from you. A mixture of astonishment and amusement etched on his face. 

“Why do you know something like that? Actually, how do you know something like that?”

His eyes were dancing with curiosity as he moved to fall back into step beside you. 

“Let’s just say I like to read. I like strange things and facts. And science is full of both facts and strange things.”

With each small statement you held up a finger. When you ended on the third and final small fact about yourself, you wiggled all three fingers at him. The motion earned you a giant smile that only seemed to grow wider as his head shook slightly back and forth. 

“You are the strangest girl.”

“How am I strange?”

“You just told me about a body snatching fungus,” he chuckled. “What other girl is going to do that?”

Jungkook had a point. A very strong point. For all your new found confidence when it came to him, you couldn’t keep the heat from rushing to your face. Or the back of your hands from trying to hide it. 

“I would tell you to stop being embarrassed but it’s cute when you blush.” 

The two of you came to a complete stop at the crosswalk. The red light blinking to tell you two it wasn’t safe to cross. It felt like a weird metaphor for this moment in your life. 

Stop! Do not keep staring back at him as if he strung every star in the sky. Stop! Don’t continue to entertain the thought that he looked like he wanted to kiss you or that you desperately wanted to kiss him back. Stop! Even though you already knew it was too late. 

You had plans. It’d all been strategically mapped out in your head until you could read it forwards and backwards to yourself. Do your best to graduate high enough in the percentage range to get into a decent college. Get a degree for a job, it didn’t matter what it was, that made enough money to help your parents. For all your careful planning, none of it had included him and yet, the universe had you both standing at a stoplight looking at each other like there couldn’t be any other reality where you weren’t meant to end up right here. Standing at this exact light and looking at one another like no one else existed. 

Luckily, the light changed signaling for you to begin to cross. The mass of bodies that had accumulated behind you began to push you both forward and, reluctantly, broke your gaze free from him. Your brain was scrambling to pick up a conversation you weren’t sure how to resurrect. Your mind too busy daydreaming all the scenarios you would’ve taken in different realities if you were braver. Clearing your throat, you did your best to wipe the thought clean and focus on your current reality.

“If it makes you feel better,” you started your body turning to consider him as you spoke, “the study was only ever done on the tropical ants that resided in the forest. The actual effects and what it could do to humans has never been studied. Yet. But I’m willing to bet it would take longer than nine days for it to take hold of a grown adult's nervous system and larger batches.”

He was looking at you in inspired mock horror. You weren’t sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Or if your unusual fact telling about zombie fungus had completely killed the mood. You got your answer in an excited hush of, “Holy shit it’s like you’re writing your own super villain backstory.” 

A smile erupted on your face as you playfully rolled your eyes away from him. It was hard to miss the mischievous glint in his eyes or the way his whole face still swam with the playfulness that lurked underneath his teasing. Jungkook was so alive. A force that required you to hang on or else you would get swept up in him without even realizing it’d happen. 

You wondered if this is what falling in love felt like. 

“I would make a terrible villain. I’m too clumsy,” you stated. Your weak attempt at downplaying yourself being met with a stern look. 

“How clumsy are we talking?”

“Hmm, I would say, ‘Kronk giving the llama potion to Kuzco,’ kind of clumsy.”

A hiss of air whistled between Jungkook’s teeth. A mock look of worry on his face as his hands moved to reposition his bag. 

“Can we call that clumsy, though?”

“What else would it be?” You asked. 

You could feel the lines grouping together in your forehead just trying to figure out what he was getting at. Jungkook didn’t seem to be in any rush to answer you. The two of you walking a few feet before he must have decided you’d waited long enough for him to reply. 

“I always thought Kronk was stupid throughout the whole movie, but really, he was just a good person. He’s a good guy tasked to do a bad thing and he just wants to make people happy. Even if it means doing the wrong thing.”

You wanted to ask if maybe he was talking more about himself than The Emperor’s New Groove at this point. He faced forward with his brow creased in deep thought and whatever it was that held his thoughts didn’t appear to be anything good. 

“Or,” you started, voice light enough to drag him out of his head, “it’s just a kids movie.”

Sure, Jungkook was looking at you, but he didn’t seem to actually see you. Somewhere inside his head, he was reenacting or seeing something that ate up all the sunshine that lived in his bones. It felt silly to feel a sense of panic about something that might not even be true. And yet, you couldn’t stop the awful thought that sadness was trying to make a home inside his soul. 

Without giving it another thought you reached up and pretended to wipe away a pretend rogue eyelash from his cheek. The suddenness of your fingers brushing on his skin jolted him from wherever his thoughts had held him hostage and back into the present. His eyes darted around your face and his own hand came up to gently take yours. 

“Sorry.” Your words came out breathy as you struggled not to focus on how he was practically holding your hand. “There was an eyelash. The wind must have blown it away.”

The earlier sadness that’d hollowed out his eyes was gone. What replaced it was one of knowing you weren’t telling the truth. His head tilted slightly down to inspect your empty finger of the proof you knew your words didn’t have whose eyes sparked with his usual teasing and something else. Something that left a different kind of heat flooding your cheeks. 

“I’m sure there was.”

Reluctantly, you removed your hand from his and continued to walk. It only took him a couple seconds to fall effortlessly into step beside you making you wonder if his leg was as injured as it seemed. 

A warm silence swelled around you as you continued to walk. A comfortable pace setting between you as he looked in the windows of every store you passed in between the changing streets. He never once asked if you were getting close to your home or how much farther it might be. It was like the moment on the back of the bus. The two of you enjoyed that the other was there without ever feeling the need to say it.

But you knew it was soon coming to an end. In only a few blocks, you’d be home and your fairytale moment would end. You were struggling on how to break this, more to yourself than Jungkook, when you noticed he pulled a Nikon camera from the side of his bag. He was squinting through the lens and taking photos of something up ahead. Of the landscape or the people and buildings that framed it you weren’t sure. 

He must have sensed your silent question as he snapped a few more quick photos before turning to acknowledge you. 

“Y/N, I have a serious question for you.”

It was hard to keep the amusement off your face as you both came to a stop. The place felt random, but it was anything but that to Jungkook. Whatever he saw in this space you both inhabited must have felt like magic to him. 

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Do you think we have enough time for me to take some photos?”

It felt like such an odd request. Why should anyone have to ask to do something that they loved? Jungkook didn’t fully say he loved doing it, but no one spent that much money on a nice camera if it wasn’t something they enjoyed doing. The look on his face was just an added bonus of proving your answer meant something. One that made you wonder why he felt like he needed your permission at all. And then it hit you: he wanted to stay in your company while he did it. 

You considered teasing him, but he looked too vulnerable standing there. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. A pleading in his eyes that reminded you of a child asking a mother to go on just one more ride before they were forced to go home. You considered giving him the bad news that you had more than homework to do when you arrived home. But that could come another day. On this day, with him, you could spare an hour just to make him happy.

Instead of coming right out and letting him know you’d made up your mind, you decided to play coy. A soft, “Hmm,” hummed around you as you looked everywhere but him. Your index finger tapping on your lips for dramatic flare.

"Ok," You shrugged. "I think I have some free time I could spare."

His eyes squinted in question as you moved to stand in front of him. The movement simply to let a couple go by in peace, but somehow placed you closer in front of him. Jungkook’s gaze was roaming your face to find an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked. 

“You planned on saying yes this whole time, didn’t you. You were just trying to make me suffer waiting for you to answer.”

You gasped in pretend shock and did your best not to smile at his accusations. By the growing smile on his face you knew you were failing miserably. 

“Me?! I would never do such a thing.”

“You’re secretly a sadist!”

Jungkook’s smile only widened as a scoff of disbelief passed from your lips. Your own smile grew to match his own when his hands lifted up his camera. Seconds later the sound of the shutter clicked and you felt your soul leave your body. The earlier playfulness was swiftly swept in your own dark cloud and the idea you probably looked hideous in that photo. 

“Oh god, Jungkook delete it,” you pleaded. 

Your hands were reaching out to grab tightly at this shirt. Your fingers curled in the white fabric until there was a small chance you could tear holes. The camera in question was being held far from your reach. His hand easily held it above his shoulder as he used one hand to steady you against him. You’d invaded his space without even realizing, but you had no time to be embarrassed. Not when he had a picture of you forever saved on that camera. 

“Why would I delete it?”

He was his usual amused self you could tell, but he wasn’t egging you on. His question was out of curiosity. His own eyes brimming with it as you considered keeping one hand tightly wound in his shirt and the other to jump up and reach for the camera. 

“Because Jungkook I’m not cute. You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t ruin the camera.”

All his earlier playfulness drained from his face and what was left made you instantly feel like you were about to be scolded. His hand that had firmly planted itself on your hip was achingly apparent now as his fingers gripped you closer to him. Your own awareness at how close you actually were to his chest made your lips feel dry. Your tongue flicked out to wet them and god, it took everything in you not to focus on the fact his eyes had followed the movement. 

“Y/N, why would you say that? You shouldn’t let anyone talk down about you, and you shouldn’t do it to yourself either. You’re beautiful.”

He spoke like it was a fact. A statement that not just the two of you knew, but the universe did too. And what were you supposed to say back? While you were held captive to the thought he was still looking from you to your lips. The determination for you to understand his words and believe them setting soft lines in his face. You tried to keep looking at him, but under his watchful gaze you couldn’t keep yourself from fidgeting. Your eyes moved down the line of his body until it landed on the tops of your shoes. 

You weren’t sure what to say back. Thank you didn’t fit here. It didn’t feel like a moment where he was trying to boost your confidence the way a friend did. This felt more like someone who noticed something in you while you hadn’t been looking. 

So instead of saying anything remotely clever back you began to dislodge yourself from him. Your hands releasing their hold on his shirt and forcing his hand off of your hip. Standing there with only inches between you, your body was achingly aware that his hand was gone. It’s weight leaving a burning of longing to have it back forced your hands into your pockets and your body turning away from him. You waited for him to start moving back down the road. The motion forced him to either join you or stay where he was. 

“We should get going before we run out of time.”

You hated yourself for dismissing him. For not being bolder like you’d promised yourself earlier in the day. It would’ve been the perfect time to thank him. To tell him how you were pretty sure there wasn’t a soul on earth more attractive than him, but that what made him beautiful is what he refused to let people see. The soft tone of his voice still singing along to the songs on the back of the bus had ended up being an unspoken lullaby when you’d gone to sleep. 

A part of you considered turning on your heel and telling him this. To tell him that you saw him; actually saw him for who he was and not who he felt like he needed to be. But you just kept moving forward and weren’t surprised when Jungkook found a steady rhythm back beside you. 

The both of you stayed quiet. This time it felt more forced than the easiness of earlier. Like the two of you had so many missed starts at creating a conversation that neither of you could understand why it ended.

You watched him as he focused on the area around him. His camera training on an old couple who sat waiting for the next bus. The husband had clutched his wife’s arm close to his side. In his hands he was peeling what appeared to be an orange and with each freshly peeled slice, he gave one to her and one to himself. No one knew what they were conversing about, but it didn’t matter. To them, they were the only two people there. The wholesomeness of the moment made you wonder what they were like back in their youth. 

You listened to the flutter of the shutter click repeatedly. His hand twisting on the lens to bring it in and out of focus, while he himself remained deadly focused on capturing their moment in time. You were curious how the photos would turn out in the end and wished there was a way to show them how their love translated on film. 

You were in the middle of watching Jungkook turn his attention to a couple birds inside a cherry blossom when he spoke.

“Thank you for agreeing to walk with me while I do this.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook.”

A sad smile curled his lips as he dropped his camera down in front of him. His thumb skimmed over the buttons to quickly go through what he’d previously taken. The last one he landed on made his entire face light up and you felt a pang of jealousy at what it could be. How you wish he would look at you like that. 

“Maybe, but I feel like I do. Ever since my accident, my appa hasn’t been able to force me into things. For once, I get to just do what I want. Sucks it only had to cost me a friend and a leg to get some freedom.”

Your feet had carried you to the next stop sign. The sudden halt in moving forced you to look at him, really look at Jungkook, like you’d never seen him before. 

He wasn’t looking at you now. His ears a screaming red while his fingers danced over every part of the camera. His eyes roaming over its edges and flicking too fast through pictures to actually even be looking at them. For the first time since you’d met him Jungkook was scared to look at you. Scared for what you might see if you did. 

Looking at him now, you couldn’t have been happier to indulge him. You’d indulge him for the rest of your life if he’d let you. 

“Well, I’m happy to be of service.”

You mentally smacked yourself at your choice of words. Jungkook, however, was backing to his beaming self as he finally glanced in your direction. His eyeing ate up your embarrassment as it was your turn to face forward. Your feet hopping in place as you waited for the light to flash it was okay to walk. 

“I’m supposed to be at physical therapy right now.”

“Wait, what?”

The light was flickering finally for you to all move. Your feet moved to carry you forward unintentionally, just to keep with the flow of traffic, as Jungkook gave you a small shrug for an answer. 

“Did you say you were supposed to be at physical therapy?”

Another shrug and another long pause with no answer. It seemed he had been waiting for you to round the corner onto a quieter pedestrian free street before he replied, “After school. I have appointments almost everyday and I never go.” 

“But why? It’s meant to help you get better, isn’t it?”

“Get better to do what, exactly?” He huffed. Jungkook’s entire body took on a broodier tone. His cane practically dug small holes with each press into the pavement. “Who even says that I can get better?”

“Well, doctors for one,” you pointed out. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have signed you up for it if they didn’t believe you could get better.” 

“If I was going to get better it would’ve happened already.”

It felt like walking on eggshells. This side of Jungkook was the boy you’d met on his first day of class. His guarded demeanor up on high alert, as he kept his gaze stoically forward and his chin held high. 

“You’re not an idiot, Jungkook. You know injuries take time to heal from. It doesn't just magically happen overnight.”

“Who says that I want to get better?”

The coldness in his words forced your legs to stop working. Your feet were unable to move as he continued to push on ahead of you. His own movements became slower now as the long walk was beginning to take its toll on his leg. He knew you weren’t beside him anymore and still he tried to keep pushing forward, before eventually he had no other choice but to turn around. 

The look on his face was as defiant as ever. Underneath that defiance was a sadness so raw you only wanted to reach out and hold him. If just to remind him that he was seen and that his pain mattered.

That’s when the realization hit you.

“Unless you feel like you deserve this.”

The stone façade he’d worked so hard to create in the past few minutes began to chip. His eyes being the first to show by the soft uprising of tears that you were right. Somewhere deep inside Jungkook believed that he deserved what happened to him. That this was punishment for losing a friend at his own hands, even if it wasn’t his fault to begin with. 

The tears that threatened to spill never did, but they were there. They floated dangerously at the surface of Jungkook’s control and he refused to let go. The rawness of his pain hit you and all you wanted was to help ease it. You weren’t sure if he would accept any kind of affection, even in a small hug. So your only option was to move closer to him. As close as he would allow without pushing you away. 

With each step you could see his jaw clenching tighter; pulsing like he was fighting from saying something wicked to send you skirting back. He was just as afraid of what you were about to do as you were at being the one to do it. 

When the tips of your shoes nudged against his you drew your eyes up until they landed on his. A spark of something; fear or uncertainty, flashed in his eyes. Was he expecting you to be cruel? To yell at him to stop being a child and to grow up? How much had he already heard those words shouted by adults? How long had he been standing there like this, in a world full of grief, and no one there to pull him out to breathe before the next wave suffocated him once more. 

You weren’t sure if it was you or if what you said would matter, but it was important he heard it. It was important he knew that this was okay too. 

“You got to forgive yourself sometime, Jungkook.”

The words themselves were simple. Simple and spoken between you as if there was a secret meant only for the two of you to hear. All you really wanted was for him to feel the sincerity of your words for him to know it was okay. Okay to feel sad, unsure, and helpless at times when all the world felt against you. It was okay to not know your first steps and okay to take those first steps when you were ready. Eventually, we needed to forgive, if only to give ourselves the chance to heal and move on. 

His gaze was still misty with unshed tears and still they refused to fall. The pain and defiance that had turned his features harsh began to soften. All that hardness he struggled to keep himself in and others out was beginning to fade and the only thing left was him. All that sunshine that you’d seen lived in his smile and echoed in his laughter that crinkled in the corners of his eyes. The way he cared for others and making them feel cared for. The softness of his singing and the way he eagerly filmed people at their most vulnerable: at their most beautiful. 

It was at this moment you felt your universe shift and tip until it realigned itself. With your fingers back to holding the edges of his shirt it took everything in you not to close those final inches and hug him. Jungkook closed that distance for you instead. 

His lips crashing down on your cheeks causing a soft squeak of surprise to push free from your lips. A chuckle came as he came back into view and your mind struggled to comprehend what happened. 

It wasn’t a kiss on the lips but…

“Did you just kiss my cheek?”

Your hand was up to the aforementioned spot. A wicked smile wiping away all of his sadness until you weren’t sure if it had been real at all or if you’d imagined it. 

“I could kiss your lips if you’d like that instead.” 

If your cheeks could get any hotter you could’ve fried food on them. You felt a surge of disappointment when Jungkook took a reluctant step back from you as his eyes dropped to check the time on his phone.

“As much as I hate to say this: I have to go.”

“All of the sudden you have to go,” you huffed. 

Your words felt brave, but inside your heart was thundering wildly against your chest. 

“I could stay if you want?”

Smoother than expected, Jungkook slid his way back to you. His chest bumping against you making you lose your footing just enough that it forced you to grab on to his shirt. Jungkook’s own hand had moved behind your back to steady you and bring you closer to him all at once. 

You playfully smacked his chest and earned a soft laugh from him. Unfortunately, you found yourself peeling away from him. Your hands grasping at the strap of your bag to keep them from reaching back out for him. 

“Not a chance.”

Your reply earned a playful pout from him as he started walking backwards away from you. 

“I’ll remember that, Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to start walking the rest of the way home. You didn’t get more than a few feet before he called back to you. Your eyes found him instantly in a crowd of people that continued to pass in front of him.

“I forgot to ask: what’s your number!”

He held up a pen expecting you to come back to him and write it down presumably on his arm or hand. You didn’t see any paper and could only assume. You knew it was all just a ploy to get you to come to him. The knowledge evident by the wicked grin on his face. 

“You’re a math wiz, right?” Jungkook was perplexed for a second before you started reciting your number as loud as you were willing to shout it. The wind blew it away as he no doubt struggled to listen. 

“Wow! What a way to play dirty.”

“If it’s meant to be you’ll figure it out.”

And maybe that was true. Maybe you both had a chance to write your own love story like from the movies and shows you used to watch with your mom. Like Rose and Jack from Titanic or Ross and Rachel...okay...maybe more like Chandler and Monica. Or maybe you were an idiot and should’ve just gone and wrote it down. It was too late now as he was already on the other side of the street. 

You were ready to walk the rest of the way kicking yourself for being so lame when you heard him call your name again. When you turned you didn’t expect him to be trotting across the road. You didn’t expect him to stop in front of you and give you another quick kiss on the cheek, this one gentler than before, with every fiber of your body remembering just how soft his lips felt. 

“I could fall in love with you, ya know.”

You watched as in the same breath he hopped back across the street and couldn’t help but think you already had. 

————-

Later that night you were snuggled up inside the sheets of your bed. The only thing sticking out was the current book you were reading and the top of your head. 

You hadn’t heard from Jungkook the rest of the day. Your heart hammered inside your chest every time your phone chimed with a new message only to deflate when you realized it wasn’t him. You loved your friends and all, but they weren’t who you’d been looking forward to all evening. 

Maybe you should’ve just gone to him and written down your number. Like a normal human being would’ve done. You just had to be clever and yell it out like a lunatic. For all you knew, you could end up with a random stranger texting you at all hours. 

Your current book that you were supposed to be reading but couldn’t really read because you couldn’t focus was now face planted onto your nose. A soft groan echoing into its pages as you fought not to close it and throw it somewhere in your room. You were a hundred percent sure you’d read the same sentence a few dozen times at this point. 

In the morning, you decided, you most definitely were just going to write it down. Like a sane person would’ve done. You closed your book and placed it down beside you. Your eyes roaming up to stare at your ceiling and wondering if you were ever actually going to go to sleep when your phone chimed off. 

You weren’t in any hurry to look. It could just be your parents from the restaurant making sure you were in bed. It could be one of your friends asking about making plans this weekend. It was probably still everyone but Jungkook and yet…

Your curiosity got the better of you. You shuffled inside your comforter, reached an arm out to grab your phone from the nightstand, and quickly pulled it back inside. You waited for your facial ID to unlock the screen to see who or what you’d received. Your own mind hyping up the suspense of the moment until it read over a reminder text from your dad about your chores for the upcoming weekends. 

You hated you’d let yourself have even a glimmer of hope. It was official. You’d ruined your chances when it came to giving out your number. A groan was creeping its way up your throat as you quickly sent back a text. You knew your chores took over almost every weekend. Even when you’d made plans with friends, you’d ended up never going. 

As soon as you’d hit send you were rolling over to put your phone back on your nightstand. The shrill sound of pinging messages stopped you cold. There was no way your dad had learned to text back that fast. You laid yourself flat back against the mattress and brought the phone to hover above your face. 

Y/N?

Is this the right number finally? 

Hello?!!

If this is the wrong person, I’m sorry. I swear I’m not crazy. Just looking for a girl. 

Your heart leapt into your throat. It was beating so hard you were scared it would burst from your chest. Your eyes were still skimming over the line of text messages when another one sounded. You were so caught up in reading the next line you weren’t aware your clammy fingers had let the phone slip and it crash landed down on your face. 

“Ooow!”

One hand scrambled to pick it back up off your face, while the other massaged the now swelling brim of your nose. 

How many people have you texted before me?

There wasn’t a need to send a hi. To give him a coy response to continue to tease him or make him believe he’d gotten it wrong again. Your curiosity at the desperate way he seemed to have been looking for you was endearing. The thought that he’d spent so much time sending out random messages for a response, no matter how crazy he looked, felt silly but cute too. 

Jungkook thought you were worth the trouble. 

OH MY GOD IS IT REALLY YOU?! And maybe like... seventeen. 

You snuggled deeper into your comforter as a soft giggle joined the growing smile across your face. 

I’m sorry I should have just wrote it down when you offered the pen lol

It definitely would’ve made it a lot easier.

You’d asked yourself that question all evening while you’d waited for him. You bit your lips as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Unsure if you should take the chance and tell him. 

“Screw it,” you whispered as you typed. 

Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting forever. 

Well, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. This girl thought it was a good idea to shout random numbers at me 😅😂.

Your head was shaking as you tried to figure out something witty to say. You couldn’t believe you were here. Inside your comforter cave smiling at your phone like a lunatic and wondering if maybe Jungkook was doing the same. Or what was he even doing? You were getting ready to type out that exact question when your phone pinged to life. 

So, ugh, on to more important matters. It read. I was thinking about your love of random facts and I think I got one for you. 

Ooooooo kekeke this should be good 

Do you want to know it or not? 

Okay okay! Lol please tell me Kookie

You could practically feel him screaming through your phone as a sideways glance emoji was sent back in a long lined response. You wondered if you’d completely ruined his fact telling when your phone went off. 

I found this article that said the chances of finding your soulmate out of 500,000,000 people was impossible. But, if you just place it to where you are, to your age group, and timing it narrows it down to a 1 in 10,000 chance. What I’m trying to get at is...I think your my 1 in 10,000

You read the message on repeat. Over and over until you were sure you’d practically memorized it front and back. You wanted to ask him for his source material. Where such an article could exist. None of that really mattered to you and how could it? 

You must have spaced out because you never sent him a reply. Your thoughts were still spinning in a world all their own as you wondered if he was sitting at his desk doing homework or lying in bed. If he was inside or outside and what had made him so brave to send that message: believing you felt the same. 

The vibration of the phone brought you back down to earth. You expected to see question marks or another line of, “Hello?” To have left him on read. Instead, the only thing that greeted you was a simple, Goodnight, Y/N. 

This time there was no hesitation from you. 

Goodnight, Jungkook

See you in the morning ?

His text felt so hopeful. A silent undertone that if you said no there was a chance you’d break him. You bit your lip as you thought about what this meant. The beginning of small promises that eventually grew into bigger ones. 

I’ll meet you at the gate

You both finished up with another round of good night’s that felt like the embarrassing texting equivalent of “no you hang up! No you!” And placed your phone back on your night stand. It took forever for the sandman to finally claim you. Your dreams consisting of the magic of being Jungkook’s 1 in 10,000. 

[blue-pastel-cat]

Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation

Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).

I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”

1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)

In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.

If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.

Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″

Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)

For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.

So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?

---

Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.

Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.

Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie) 

A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?

Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”

trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO

4. Find a place to call it home  by yamajiroo 

Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...

Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.

“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”

Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.

5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver  

When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.

Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD

6. new world, same me, same bullshit  by  bobamilkteas (Wes)

At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.

Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.

7. misplaced heart of mine by  inkburn           

“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.

“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”

“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”

Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”

(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)

Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;

8.  Blossom of Grace  by birdpriestess  

One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.

Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.

9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced               

“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”

“I—”

“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”

“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”

Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”

Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.

10. Ephemeral by criedprinz        

“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.

Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”

He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.

“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”

When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..

Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA

11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth

Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.

But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.

There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.

Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.

That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

[bubblyhoney]

soundtrack

warnings: sailor language, suggestive themes/mentions of sex, drinking, nicotine use, being tipsy/intoxicated. no graphic or explicit nsfw content besides basically tonguing and giving hickeys and an ass grab.

tags: karl jacobs x fem!reader

words: 1898

A/N: i wrote this thinking that both people in this fic are of drinking age; i’m not, but i thought it would be a cool idea. i can assume many adult gatherings feature alcohol, so yeah. drinking isn’t integral to the plot of this fic. also it is pre-(or post)pandemic bc it’s just a general rule of thumb to not have parties right now.

-

“Don’t, kill, me,” Karl warbles, setting down his bottle with a sigh. Freaks plays loud and tinny on the TV, album cover bathing those occupying the couch in a grayish light. Those occupants being just you and Karl. The room is lit with purple string lights and that one thrifted lamp with frogs on the shade he’d sworn was the best purchase he’s ever made. You’re sprawled out on the other half of the sofa, ankles crossed and a can of vodka seltzer swaying in your hand. The song changes to 20 Min by Lil Uzi and your foot bounces to the beat.

“What time is it?” You sigh, placing the nearly-empty can onto the coffee table next to your apple berry-flavored pen. He flicks his wrist towards his face.

“2:46,” he delivers, and takes a swig of the Angry Orchard in his hand. His sixth, specifically. The rest of the group had left roughly ten minutes ago, leaving the two loneliest people to drink alone. You, thoroughly tipsy, decided it was better to spend the night on his spare than pay $50 for an Uber. He agreed, of course. Why wouldn’t he?

Lifting onto your elbows, you just stare at him. He lifts an ankle to cross over the other and your eyes drop. What is his fascination with Spongebob socks?

“We should play 20 questions.”

“What?” His head swivels like a bobblehead and a giggle barely escapes your lips.

“20 questions!” You say excitedly, heaving onto your knees to look at him earnestly. “You go first.”

“Um, okay.” The song fades into Paper Planes and he bobs his head to the beat. “What’s your favorite breed of dog?”

“Shiba inu. Are you a virgin?”

The fucking tone of your voice makes him dissolve into giggles, hand pressed to his chest. You just shrug, reaching for the pen in the table. “Fair question, I think,” you say defensively. His chest heaves, but he sits up.

“No—no, I’m not a virgin.” His cheeks are red, but he’s smiling like it was an easy answer. Your mind floods with images of his long hair in your face, long fingers—a sweaty chest. You shake your head. “Okay, my turn,” he continues, giving you a weird look. “would you rather kiss Chucky Cheese or Ronald McDonald?”

“Karl!” You whine. “That is not how 20 Questions works!” You grumpily pull from your pen, blowing the smoke out of the side of your mouth. Eughk. Apple berry sucks.

“Fine, fine,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. The tell-tale guitar chords of The Adults Are Talking floods the room and his face brightens with a new question. “Have you ever been to a concert?”

“Yes, actually. The Jonas Brothers in 2009.” He wrinkles his nose, finishing his cider and dropping it onto the coffee table with a sharp noise. Your eyebrows furrow. “Don’t you dare badmouth my boys.”

“Wasn’t gonna!” He reaches for your pen and you give it to him with a slight pout on your lips that he glances at.

“Good. Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” A grin climbs your lips.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” His eyes widen and smoke curls out of his nostrils as he hands your pen back. You just shrug and pick up your discarded seltzer. “Gimme a sec to think.”

“So many places?” You tease, finishing the last drop of your drink and crushing it beneath your palm. He shrugs, mirroring you, and cracks open another cider. He seems to think, brows furrowing, as he pulls a swig from the dark bottle.

“Boat.”

“Boat,” you repeat.

“Yup.” He looks at you, gaze flickering to your lips imperceptibly fast. If you were sober you’d probably notice, but you’re not and you don’t.

“You’ve fucked on a boat?” No way. Karl Jacobs. On a boat. Having sex. What an image—

“Yeah, senior year was great for me.” More Than A Woman fills the space of the silence as you consider this. You blink, processing.

“Whose boat?” You're genuinely curious. Was it a yacht, pontoon, fishing boat? Row boat? The sudden scene of him getting his foot stuck in a fishing net while pantless clouds your vision.

“My girlfriend’s.” And that’s that on that because he’s moving on before you can open your mouth and continue the discussion of the logistics of this. “Stop investigating, perv. Now it’s my turn. Hmm— wait! Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?” A sneaky grin is on his lips and now you just want to kiss him, damn it.

“I-Uh. I think it was under the bleachers. I also had a great senior year,” you offer, scooting forward on your knees so that you’re only a foot from Karl. He looks impressed, actually.

“Who was it?”

Your eyebrow raises in question.

“Personal question or one of the 16 left, Karl?”

His cheeks heat and he looks once to the TV.

“Personal,” he mutters into the mouth of his bottle.

“It was Brian Hernandez,” you sigh, gazing off into the distance with a fond look in your eyes. You feel the end of the game of 20 questions as you see him chew on his bottom lip from your peripheral. “Dude was insatiable. Managed girls’ basketball and looked damn good doing it.”

“I managed girls’ soccer,” he says simply, uncrossing his legs. “My girlfriend was goalie.”

“How long did you guys date?” You fold your legs up underneath you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You feel the most sober now out of all tonight.

“Dunno.” He sips at his cider. “Couple weeks maybe?”

You smirk. “Karl Jacobs puts out in the first couple weeks?” That’s hot, you don’t say. He gives you a look. “18 year old Karl was a player,” you tease, leaning forward to poke at his chest.

Smacking your hand away, he sighs and lifts a hand to tousle his hair.

“Guess he was.” Clear eyes meet yours and you take a hit from the pen that lays discarded in your palm. He watches the smoke float from your mouth. The TV screen swipes to Deceptacon and the mood quickly shifts. “So.” He turns toward you with lifted eyebrows. “You were a total nerd in highschool, huh.”

Your jaw drops. “I was not!”

“Come on; yes, you were.” He makes a face and drains half the bottle of cider. “You probably were in SpellBowl and every teacher’s pet.”

“Nice try, bitch. You were a dumb jock. I’ve seen the pictures. The yearbook pictures.” You look pointedly at his hair.

“My hair was not that bad.”

“Yes it was.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he grumbles and pushes his hand through his long curls. “Just a little… short.” It’s your turn to make a face.

“A buzz cut nearly to your scalp is more than short.” He huffs at you and finishes the cider just as the song switches. “Anyways.” You don’t really have anything to say, actually. Too busy thinking about teenage Karl smacking tennis rackets around and fielding lost soccer balls for his girlfriend. She’s long gone, right?

“Are you wearing lingerie?” Karl asks suddenly and you look up. He stares pointedly at your chest and you move a hand to pat at your stomach.

“Oh,” you start, and flick the last three buttons open, fabric falling to reveal a baby blue lace corset. “Yeah.” He can’t seem to stop imagining what’s underneath it. Fuck. “Do you like it?” The tone in your voice is taunting and he has to look away.

He clears his throat and places the second glass bottle onto the coffee table.

“Yes.”

You rise onto your knees and pull your arms out of the button-up, letting it fall back on the couch.

“Do you want to touch it?” You're looking up at him from underneath your eyelashes, he realizes, and you know exactly what you’re doing. You’re not asking if he wants to touch the corset; you’re asking if he wants to touch you.

“Can I?” He glances at you warily. You just nod, and it’s then that you’re shuffling forward. The material is soft on his fingertips when he brushes a hand across your torso. “Silk,” he mumbles, and stares, transfixed, at the loopy flower pattern crawling across your waist in shades of milky blue. You just hum and watch. He realizes suddenly when he traces a finger up on the ridge of the neckline that you’re not wearing anything underneath it. It makes him stop in his tracks, neck flushing. “Are-are you—,”

“Wearing a bra? No, I’m not.” You lay a hand on his shoulder, hoisting one leg over his thighs and settling down comfortable on his lap. He bristles then relaxes as you slide a hand up into his scalp. “Do you want me to show you?”

He glares at you, barely annoyed, and shifts so that his large hands rest in the curve of your waist. Poison starts in the speakers as his eyebrow raises.

“Do you normally wear corsets when we all hang out?” A lock of your hair moves past your cheek as he brushes it out of the way. His mouth tilts into a smirk. You seem to think about it, lips pursed, and grip both his shoulders in your hands.

“Only when I’ve got someone to impress.” A hand on your lower back presses insistently and you fall further into his lap.

“Who are you here to impress, Y/N?” He’s barely an inch from your mouth now, and can’t seem to keep his eyes on one part of your face. Cool breath fans onto your cheeks and they warm. God, he’s even cuter up close.

“You,” barely passes your lips before he’s taking the side of your neck into his hand and stretching to connect your lips with his own.

Cherry, you think. Cherry chapstick, that cheeky bastard. Taking your wrist in his hand, he loops it up and around his neck. You’re making a noise into his mouth, you realize, right as he’s sliding a hand down to the side of your thigh and gripping it between his long fingers. You shiver as he pulls away too soon, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before sinking his teeth into your neck. The gasp that leaves your mouth is surprisingly loud and your cheeks flush further. He just hums, pleased, and stretches an arm to the opposite side of your waist to hug you closer. Warm lips move on the skin of your neck and his tongue darts out few and far between the kisses.

“Fuck,” he breathes when your hips jerk forward once.

“Sorry,” you whisper up at the ceiling, eyes falling shut. “reflex.”

He grins against your neck and moves to grip an ass cheek in his palm.

“Your reflex to me licking a hickey is to grind into my crotch?” he teases. You just have to nod, lips parted, as he soothes another bruise with his tongue.

“Karl.” He seems to either not hear you or ignore you for he’s removing himself from your neck and connecting your mouths once more. “Karl,” you stutter between kisses, and he squeezes at your ass.

“Yes?” His lips are bitten and puffy when he pulls away, a smug look on his beautiful face.

“Take off my corset.”

He looks between your face and the lingerie, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comment what you think !