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#I LITERALLY SPENT ALL DAY ON THIS TODAY i was gonna draw other stuff and just work on this for a lil. i wasnt even gonna render it initiall
spearxwind · 1 year
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"DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES, DARLING"
POV, you're getting your everything pulled out on the forest floor. Bonus detail shots:
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ᴬˡˢᵒ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵍˢ, ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘᵎ
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lastoneout · 2 years
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Got asked if I had any tips for new artists during my stream today and I figured I'd put them here too:
Draw, seriously, just do it. This is the hardest part and also the most crucial. Just run at it screaming and refuse to back down. You just gotta do it.
Always do your wrist/arm/shoulder stretches before drawing and make sure to take breaks to stretch/re-center yourself if you've been going for a few hours or more! (Here's the stretches I do, and they help with gaming and writing and desk work too, they're just a good idea all around!)
Try to draw less from the wrist and more from the shoulder(move your arm more and your wrist less basically). That and stretches will help you avoid carpal tunnel which is never fun.
Consistency is only something you need to worry about if you're like, working in the industry/doing some types of commissions(like an twitch emote bundle or a comic book). If you're just starting out or only drawing for yourself it literally doesn't matter. Like, I don't think I've ever drawn a character exactly the same way twice, it's fine.
Don't do warm up drawings, do warm up scribbles. Doodles circles and squares and lines and swirls until you feel nice and lose, then start actually drawing.
If you're between 50-90% done with something and you REALLLY start to hate it, keep going. You just gotta power through, cuz chances are it's perfectly fine(or even really good) and your monkey brain is being a jackass coward chugging that impostor syndrome juice.
If you finish and you still hate it put it away until tomorrow or the day after and then look again. Never EVER trust your negative opinions about your art(or anything) if it's after like 8pm.
Re: the above points, as an exampke last night I HATED my new pngtuber model that I'd spent literally all day on. Went to bed and in the morning was like "oh this is good actually". Trust me, tired burnt out you is not a good judge of quality, especially the quality of something you've been staring at for like 4-5 hours.
If, after all that, you still hate it, that's okay too. It's a bummer, but don't try to force yourself to like something just cuz you spent a lot of time on it. Chalk it up to experience and move on to the next thing!
Do everything in your power to not compare yourself to others. It won't get you anywhere. Instead learn to look at other people's art and find what you like about it and try to break it down or do it that way yourself. Dont fully copy/trace ofc, but really think about how something looks and see if you can figure out why you like it and/or how it's done.
OH MY GOD USE REFERENCES. Anyone who says not to use references is talking out of their ass. You think figure drawing classes are bad?? That artists draw from life just for shits and giggles?? No, its because you need to know what shit looks like to draw it!!! USE REFERENCES!!!
Same with youtube tutorials, especially for learning to use digital art programs. Do take everything with a grain of salt ofc(we've all seen the "masculine vs feminine eyes" shit or the trash trend of "I fix my viewer's bad art uwu" ignore that crap) but you can learn all kinds of shit for free on youtube.
If you can feel yourself burning out fucking stop drawing a take a break. Even if you're in the middle of something, or part of you wants to keep drawing. Burn outs suck and it's gonna take a lot longer to get over it if you push yourself until you crash instead of just acknowledging that you're hitting your limit and stopping for a few days. The art will be there when you get back, your health should always come first!
If someone tells you thick line art or anime style or whatever is bad, ignore them. All art is subjective. Draw what you want how you want. Even if it's all thick line art or you stick to sketches or only do anime stuff or chibis or humans or furries or goddamn stick figures just draw literally whatever. If this is just a hobby for you there's no reason to push yourself. Draw what makes you happy, fuck everyone else.
Anyway that's all I've got for now, might add more tomorrow when I'm less tired(and I encourage additions for other artists as I'm self taught and had to learn most of this the hard way and thus I'm sure I've missed stuff) but yeah, just draw my dudes, this is supposed to be fun. You deserve to have fun.
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iamthecomet · 6 months
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Hoot once again!
I‘m really glad to hear this. Our little ritual means a lot to me <3
I am so sorry for her, but very glad that she figured it out now. Growing up undiagnosed can be (and is most of the time) very traumatic
While I’m a bit younger, I still spent my entire childhood and half of my youth (I’m gonna pretend it has been only half of it so far cause whatever the fuck I had/have is most definitely not a joyful youth). So while I can‘t fully relate, I still kind of get it and can at least imagine how it must me for her
It‘s pretty hard to get an autism diagnosis, because it cannot be done by a regular psychiatrist (unlike ADHD for example, which is why I at least have that diagnosis already). In my area there is only one place where you can get a diagnosis and the waiting list is LONG (not the worst I‘ve seen so far but at least half a year, which is terrible if you need to get help as quickly as possible but you need a diagnosis to get any kind of help). But I’m working on it
Thank youuuu
I planned chapter 2 out yesterday
It ended up to be “only” 5 pages, but it has 39 panels (chapter 1 has 24 panels)
So I think I’ll still get more of the story across even though it seems to be one page shorter
I will most likely start working on it in November
Your day sounds pretty nice!
Today, I was really stressed and worried about something and I did it okay-ish, but I can‘t change shit anymore now anyways so I’ll have to stop worrying and just wait and see
I also had a doctors appointment to get blood drawn and tested (cause due to the meds I take I’m apparently at a higher risk of malnutrition/lack of some stuff) and it was literally the most pleasant doctors appointment I’ve ever had.
I was a too early (as always) and had to wait outside a bit because they were still on lunch break but I was let inside a few minutes earlier anyways and so I was alone in the waiting area. And the nurse was incredibly kind and nice (she had me lay down for it because she didn’t want to risk that I could pass out and then she let me take my time to get back up again). It was overall incredibly nice and I was done not even 15 minutes after my appointment (so none of that annoying waiting time that usually comes with doctors appointments)
I also wanted to mention this in the past days already but I somehow didn‘t haha:
So I saw Someone do OC-tober and I absolutely LOVED the idea! (I’m one of these people that just never really draws their OCs lmao)
So I put together a prompt list for myself and I’m really excited about it ^^
(I‘m also planning on participating in Ghosttober with my writing which is why I’m probably going to be a little stressed all throughout October which is why I’ll most likely start working on chapter 2 in November)
I once again truly hope that you had a pleasant day! ♥️
~ @owlishanon
I like our little ritual too! ♥ When my friend got her diagnosis she couldn't get it from a regular psychiatrist either. She also got her ADHD diagnosis a couple years earlier because that was much easier. Autism she had to take a handful of tests over a period of time to actually get the diagnosis. But she was 98% sure what it would be before she got it. So I guess it's a pain in the ass no matter where you try to get it. Hoping that you are able to get through that process soon and get the help that you need. I'm glad your doctor's appointment went well and was easy. That's such a rare thing. And that you had a nurse who was really accommodating and understood what you needed. I was wondering why you said you would work on chapter two in November, until I got to the end of your ask. There are A LOT of things going on in October. And it will be kind of nice to take a pause on working so hard on that and doing some other stuff. I'm really excited for kinktober/ghostober whatever we're calling it. I'm trying to get the first week written and ready this week so that it's less likely that I fall behind. We'll see how that goes. Day one is written and ready to go--so that's something at least. And OC-tober sounds SO cool. I'm excited to see what you end up doing with that. I'm sure that will be a lot of fun too!
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squeebirdstudios · 2 years
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Old art and a story today.
I made this for ART 131 back in college. It was a required course for my major that was basically drawing with your hands, like people used to before computers existed, which I am terrible at, so it was a ride. But the final assignment/project was to scan a physical object and then use the computerized image in a piece of art made on the computer.
So I’m like, OK, great, I have Ctrl + Z at my disposal for this. Sweet relief! What do I scan?
And I looked at my bulletin board and saw a broken piece of an artificial feather and was like, I’m gonna make a peacock.
And so I grabbed my drawing tablet and tried out various functions made possible by the tablet w/ pressure sensitivity and angles and stuff, and I got the pictured stylized peacock. But it needed something.
So I stared at the peacock for a minute and decided it had enough of an attitude to justify further expression, slapped on the caption accordingly, and printed it out.
The day of the final came and the first few minutes were spent putting our art up for everyone to see. The rest of the final was spent working our way through each piece and analyzing what they might mean.
I... somehow forgot about that second part?  Granted, this was only my second term in a liberal arts major after a few years flailing in Computer Science, so I can’t really hold it against myself, but still.  And so everyone was going through their deep and meaningful pieces, which I thought were pretty well executed and thought out.
And then we got to mine.
The instructor asked, “Now, what do you all think this piece means?” There was an awkward moment of silence, and then one person just spoke up and said, “It’s fabulous!” This got chuckles and I was relieved. Then I had to continue to sit silently while people debated the coloration, the wings, the pose, the face, and even the caption and my choice to use an apostrophe in the place of the first E in the word “excuse” instead of just the full word. I mean, I did think that “‘Xcuse me, but I’m fabulous!” made a stronger statement than the other version, so that was intentional, but this was impressive.
So then the instructor finally turns to me (I think he might have been grinning at this point; he’d taught this class for some time) and says, “So tell us about this piece.” And I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and managed, a little haltingly, “It’s a peacock who wants you to know that it’s fabulous. Umm...” I opened my eyes and the first person to speak up looked delighted. I then launched into the creation process to try to distract from the fact that there was absolutely no deeper meaning to this piece; I literally only made it because I had an assignment.
I got an A on the project.
- [Patreon] - [Redbubble] - [Etsy] - [Instagram] -
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opens-up-4-nobody · 3 years
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...
#i have demons battling it out in my brain#one says: nothing creative/fun can be designated as work#the other says: but literally u have to do these creative/fun things for work#idk why my brain is like: it is only work if u r suffering or doing something difficult#but its v stressful bc it means i do unfun things all day at normal hrs of the day (or avoid doing them)#and then spend the rest of my time doing the more fun stuff which stretches my 'work' time to strange long hrs#but if i do them at normal hrs i feel like im gonna die#its terrible. and ive got at least 12+ hours worth of fun stuff i have to do on the lab computer rn#so guess whose gonna be getting up at 4am multiple times this week assuming nothing else comes up#also i have to draw a thing#which is why im getting a headache bc ive spent so much time today messing with procreate and trying to figure out a style#and my brain is like: u r wasting time!!!! u need to be more productive#but i have to figure out how to use the app??? also its sunday#theres just so much to do and im being crushed by the weight of it all#my brain keeps doing that angry buzzing then while i run so fun times#i think im figuring out the digital art thing tho#and that means ill have to redraw a bunch of stuff i did for the lab bc it all looks trash now and the style is gonna be inconsistant#sigh... idk y i do this to myself but here we are#srry for being so ranty lately. ive been feeling not great so ive withdrawn from socalizing and thus have no outlet lol#unrelated#ah fuck i really need to work on manuscript stuff tho#okay: this week i will read a bunch of annoying photosynthesis papers or else. i will i will. writing progress will be made
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ptergwen · 3 years
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no sleep
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pairing: singer!reader x tom holland || w/c: 1.6k
warnings: swearing and many many many suggestive jokes
summary: you’re on jimmy kimmel to talk about your music, but he has other plans
a/n: y’all i’ve literally always wanted to write singer!reader and this idea just came to me and i had to get it out because it’s so cute :,) i really hope ya like it
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jimmy kimmel invited you onto his show to promote a single from your upcoming album. you stepped out of the spotlight for a while, so this is your first official appearance of the year.
“my first guest tonight...” there’s a cheer from the audience. you grin to yourself, waiting for jimmy to finish announcing you.
“you wanna say it for me?” he chuckles and stands your picture up on his desk. “my first guest tonight surprised fans this morning with her new single ‘no sleep.’ it’s currently number one in over seventy countries.” jimmy holds for applause, which you get a ton of. you cover your hot face with your hands.
“she’s here to talk to us about the song and her short hiatus. please welcome y/n y/l/n!”
the music plays while you walk onstage, followed by more cheers and clapping. you’re beaming as you wave to everyone. you give jimmy a quick hug and exchange hello’s over the noise.
you’ve been in the industry for a few years, but you’ll never get used to responses like this. all the love really warms your heart.
“thank you!” you giggle out, taking your seat on the couch. the audience yells some more when the music dies out. “thank you so much! oh my god,” you make a face at jimmy, who laughs and gestures to everyone. “they clearly hated the song,” he jokes to you. “i was gonna say,” you agree, smoothing your dress down.
you look out at the crowd with a pout. “no, seriously. you guys are so cute.” jimmy copies your pout, earning a playful eye roll from you.
you’ve been on the show a couple of times before, so you two are friendly. tom has also brought you to chill backstage with him when he was a guest. you would’ve brought him this time if he wasn’t away for filming.
“so, you took most of the year off from making music,” jimmy starts the actual conversation. “mhm, i did,” you hum and cross one of your legs over the other. “how was that? was it weird not being in the studio?” you scrunch your face up, then he adds another question. “what did you actually do with yourself?”
“i mean, music is obviously a big part of who i am. making it, loving it, all that stuff.” a small smile crosses your face. “so, yeah. it sort of felt like something was missing at first.” jimmy nods along, you shrugging one of your shoulders.
“at the same time, i really needed to take a minute and just breathe. come back with my shit more together. i think i have,” you let out a reflective sigh. “it didn’t have anything to do with your boyfriend? a mr. tom holland?” jimmy teases, you waving a hand at him. “no, don’t give him all the credit.”
your break genuinely was for yourself. no one needs to know that tom was also off, or that he spent all his free time with you. that was just a plus.
“are you sure? because, it seemed like you two were getting really cozy.” a picture from your instagram pops up on the screen. it’s of tom under a blanket. he’s reaching out for you with a lazy smile. you lean over on the couch so you’re off camera, another giggle escaping you.
jimmy flips to another picture. “that was exhibit A. here’s exhibit B.” the whole audience coos, jimmy raising his eyebrows at you. this one is a mirror selfie from tom’s instagram. your arms are slung around his neck from behind, and half your face is hidden. tom is doing his signature eye crinkling smile into the camera.
“aren’t they just adorable?” jimmy asks the audience, making them erupt in more cheers. you sit up again and clear your throat. seeing those is bittersweet for you. “he’s very cuddly. anyway, back to the music!” you do a small clap. little do you know, there’s much more to come.
“yes, yes. back to the music. talk to me about ‘no sleep.’” the song is one hundred percent about tom. you’re not sure you should say that, considering the... explicit content in it. you and tom did get very cozy over your break, as jimmy would say. it was the only time you weren’t relaxing.
“well,” you plaster on an overly happy smile. that earns more laughter from jimmy. “it’s about what you do in bed when you’re, um, not sleeping,” you explain. “and who do you do those things in bed with?” jimmy glances up at the screen again. “you’re choosing violence today, jimmy,” you say under your breath.
there’s a chuckle from backstage that sounds eerily similar to tom’s. it must have been a PA. all this talk about him is seriously fucking with your head.
“well, everyone in my life inspires my work in some way. they’re such angels,” you dodge the question, thinking you’re clever about it. jimmy won’t let you get off that easy. “friends? family?” he asks you. “yeah, everyone,” you exhale in relief. jimmy widens his eyes at you. “so, that means ‘no sleep’ is about your mom?”
your mouth falls open. he’s really going to make you spill the details of your sex life.
“what the fuck, no!” you squeal, looking out into the audience for help. they join in your laughter. “it’s about tom,” you finally confirm so jimmy doesn’t suggest anything else. “it’s about tom, my god. next topic.” you’re smiling despite yourself.
“why? don’t you wanna tell us more about your lover?” jimmy glances off to the side. what is going on back there? you sit up straighter in your spot. “no, this is my interview!” you’re half joking, half serious.
although you and tom aren’t private at all, you’ve never talked about him this much. it’s overwhelming. besides that, this is making you miss him a lot.
“that’s too bad. we thought... we thought you might like to share it,” jimmy is already grinning about whatever he has planned. this isn’t supposed to be part of your segment. “huh? i’m literally so lost.” you furrow your eyebrows at him, lowering your voice. “we didn’t talk about this.”
he pats the arm of your couch. “they say there’s no time like the present. ladies and gentlemen, tom holland!”
on cue, tom runs out from backstage. the audience practically roars with how loud they are. people even jump out of their seats. you clasp a hand over your mouth in pure shock. this feels like a prank, like jimmy is about to say sike. then, tom comes up to the couch. you almost fall over, jimmy proudly watching on.
tom grins so wide it takes up his whole face. “happy release day,” he murmurs as you get to your feet. you’re not able to speak just yet, only staring up at him with glossy eyes. he brings you into a tight hug. his hands rub up and down your back, your arms snaking around his middle.
“tommy,” you try to whisper the nickname. you forgot your microphone is on. everyone “aw’s” at you both, including jimmy. “my love,” tom’s lips brush your cheek briefly. “hi, baby,” he speaks into your ear. you hide your face in his button up while he rocks you side to side.
he’s been away for a couple of months working on the third spider-man. this is the first time you’ve seen him since he left.
“shouldn’t you be in atlanta?” you ask louder this time for the audience to hear. you’re still doing an interview. “today’s a big day. i had to see you,” tom gives you one last squeeze. “in person,” he adds, before you can say you already facetimed.
the fact that him and jimmy put this whole thing together is making you emotional. you’d be fully crying if you two were alone right now.
“she doesn’t want you here, though. remember?” jimmy chimes in, tom breathing out a laugh. he sadly lets go of you. you flop back onto the couch, tom pointing behind him with his thumb. “i’ll just be on my way. five hour flight, no big deal.” “no, no, no, no. stay,” you whine and make grabby hands at him.
that’s all it takes for tom to slip into the spot next to you. he bites back a smile, putting an arm around you and the couch. you don’t want to annoy everyone with too much pda, so you subtly curl into his side. the people actually love you and tom together. jimmy claps his hands.
“we’ll be right back with y/n y/l/n and tom holland!” he says into the camera, the band playing more filler music. he steps out from behind the desk to greet tom. tom stands up, the two of them giving each other pats on the back. the camera stops rolling.
“hey, man. thanks for doing this,” tom puts a hand on jimmy’s arm. “anything for the happy couple. i’m gonna get some water, see you in five.” jimmy shoots you another smile on his way to his dressing room. you return it. that leaves you and tom to yourselves.
“baby,” you say in a sing song voice, dropping your head onto tom’s shoulder. “i’m so happy you’re here. i real life almost peed when you came out.” tom snakes his arm around your waist. “that would be upsetting,” he mumbles, his index finger drawing circles on you. “it would’ve ruined your very pretty dress.”
“you like it?” you knowingly tug at the form fitting material. tom shifts in his spot. “i’ll tell you what,” he leans in closer to you with a smirk, his breath tickling your ear. “we’re getting no sleep tonight,” he sings from the chorus of your song. you burst into a giggle and squeeze your eyes shut.
he ends up being right.
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stutterfly · 3 years
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Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)
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Rating: M (Explicit 18+)
Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship
Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader
Word Count: 15.1K
Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.
CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook
Series: Activate your SIMCard
Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)
Do not repost.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.
At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.
While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.
It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.
You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.
You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.
Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.
Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.
Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.
You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.
You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?
When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.
[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]
How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.
You: I told you not to fucking find me on here
It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.
Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you
Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me
You: Don’t worry I’m gonna
Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh
You: ???
Jungkook: Your legs
Jungkook: Like oreos
Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜
Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.
You: I wish I could unread 🤢
Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites
Jungkook: Just like you 😘
You: 🙄
You: I hate you so much
Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?
You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.
Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀
You: It means I’m tired
Jungkook: Of?
You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.
Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?
Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴
Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.
You: You know what? I want you
FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.
You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.
Jungkook: 😈
Jungkook: My place
Jungkook: Ten minutes
You: *to stay off my profile
Jungkook: 👉👌?
You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT
You: 🤢🤢🤢
Jungkook: 😩
Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess
Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴
You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego
Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here
He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.
Jungkook: Hey quick question
Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻
Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.
There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?
You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?
Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.
You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.
The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.
He forgot.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.
It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.
“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”
“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”
“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.
As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.
“What happened? Did he hurt you?”
“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.
“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.
You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”
“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”
Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.
Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.
He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.
With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.
Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.
“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.
You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?
You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."
“What?"
“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”
You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.
“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”
Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.
“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”
Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?
“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”
Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”
“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."
As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.
Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.
You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.
"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”
“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.
“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”
Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?
“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”
“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”
“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”
Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?
“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”
“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”
“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”
“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”
“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.
“Zip up your hoodie.”
You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.
Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.
“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”
Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”
Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”
Even he knows that argument is flimsy.
“Guk.”
“It was always just a joke.”
“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”
Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.
Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.
Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”
“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”
“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”
Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.
Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”
Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”
“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”
“Yeah.”
“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”
“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.
"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"
The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.
"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."
You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”
Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"
Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.
After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.
"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.
He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”
“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.
“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”
“But—”
“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”
“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.
Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.
You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”
“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”
In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”
“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”
“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.
“With beef,” he agrees.
“Gyoza?”
“Mhm.”
“And takoyaki?”
“...You’re pushing it.”
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”
He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”
“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.
“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”
“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.
"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"
You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.
"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.
Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?
“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.
Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.
“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.
“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.
"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”
He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.
“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.
The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”
“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”
Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”
“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”
He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.
He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”
Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.
“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.
“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”
“What? When?”
“The other day. We hung out.”
He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.
“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”
Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”
“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”
“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.
“You guys talked about me?”
“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.
Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”
“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”
“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”
“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”
You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”
“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”
You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”
Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”
“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”
“Y/N.”
“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”
“We allowed to talk about Jason?”
“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”
He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”
“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”
“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”
You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.
You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”
He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”
You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.
“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”
His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.
“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”
He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.
“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”
“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”
“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”
“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”
“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.
If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.
“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”
He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.
NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to
JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry
JUNGKOOK: I got u
Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.
“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.
“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”
“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”
Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”
He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.
“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”
Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?
“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.
Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.
As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.
You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.
It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.
He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.
When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”
He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.
“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”
You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”
He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”
Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.
“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.
Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.
“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.
The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.
The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"
"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.
You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.
Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.
"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"
He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.
The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"
His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"
You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."
He nods. "Mm. We can split it."
"Um, how about... tempura?"
"Banana?"
Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.
The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."
The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.
“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."
"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.
He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."
“Oh, really?”
You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.
“I’ve been a dick.”
“No shit.”
Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”
How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.
“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”
“You don’t say.”
That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.
“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”
“Well, you did,” you mumble.
“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?
“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”
Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”
It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.
He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”
“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”
“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”
“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.
“For real.”
You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”
He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.
“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”
You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”
Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”
You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”
He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”
Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”
He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”
“I want that in writing,” you snort.
Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”
“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”
“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.
You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.
Princess
I’m sorry. I can make it right.
I promise. Please give me another chance.
If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.
As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook
Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.
“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”
His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.
“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”
He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.
“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.
“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.
“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.
Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”
Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”
“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”
Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”
“Joonie—”
“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”
“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”
As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.
Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”
“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”
The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.
Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”
The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.
“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.
Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.
“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.
Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”
Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.
A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”
Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.
A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?
His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.
You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.
He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.
It’s also kind of cute.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.
After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.
It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.
Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.
As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.
“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.
“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.
He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”
“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.
Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.
“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.
Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.
“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.
“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”
“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”
“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.
“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.
His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.
“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.
“Like, full body?”
“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”
“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.
“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.
“Which one?”
The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.
“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”
You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.
“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.
“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because?”
“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”
“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.
He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”
He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”
“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”
The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”
He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”
You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”
“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”
“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”
“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.
He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”
“Really.”
You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.
“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”
The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?
“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”
“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.
“I hear a pop.”
“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.
“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”
“Oh no. Knees?”
“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”
His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”
“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”
“Uhh…”
“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”
“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”
He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”
You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?
“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”
The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.
“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.
“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”
“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”
His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”
As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.
Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.
It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.
Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.
“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”
“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.
Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”
You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?
Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.
You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.
Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.
Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.
Y/N.exe has stopped working.
Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.
“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”
Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”
“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.
“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.
“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.
“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”
He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”
You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.
“I think… A lot.”
“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.
Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.
Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.
“So…” he begins.
You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.
“I was thinking. About that guy…”
You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.
“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“
Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?
“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.
“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.
It's cry hours, isn’t it?
Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”
“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.
“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”
It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?
‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.
“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”
He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”
If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.
“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”
His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”
A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.
Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.
"It's late. I should sleep."
Or masturbate.
The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.
"Whoa. You okay?"
"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."
"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"
"Just wanna stop spinning."
His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.
"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."
"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.
“You gonna make it there?”
“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.
"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.
Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.
“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.
You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.
He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.
“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.
While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.
Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.
You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.
Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.
"Princess?"
Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.
You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.
Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?
Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.
But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.
The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.
“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.
He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.
Oh shit.
You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.
“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.
The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”
You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?
Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.
Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.
Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."
Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"
As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?
He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.
“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.
You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”
He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”
“‘Night,” you mumble.
As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.
The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.
He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.
Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.
He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.
Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.
He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.
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Text
Part Ten. Faces
warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)
behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist
A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!
**********
It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.
The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.
But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.
Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.
Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.
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Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.
A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.
"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.
After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.
"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."
"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"
Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."
"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"
"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."
This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.
"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.
"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"
Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"
"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.
"I seriously will kick you out of my house."
"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.
"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."
"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.
The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.
*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*
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Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.
A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.
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She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.
"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.
"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"
"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"
"Okay."
"Just okay? What's up?"
"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"
There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"
"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.
"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"
"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."
"Oh. Really?"
"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.
"Oh. Then why...?"
She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."
"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."
"I know."
"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."
Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?
"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."
Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.
"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."
"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."
He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"
She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"
"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."
"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"
"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."
She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."
Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.
Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.
She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.
"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.
"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.
Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."
"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."
"Can I see it when you're done?"
"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."
"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."
"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"
"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."
She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."
"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.
"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."
"Disgusting!"
A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"
Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."
"Are you talking to Bugsy?"
He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"
"Hi, Sapnap!"
"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."
"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."
A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.
"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."
"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."
"That's punishing yourself too though."
"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.
"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."
She had been caught. "It was implied."
"Sure it was."
"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"
He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.
Her smile dropped. "Clay?"
"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.
To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.
"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"
His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"
She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."
"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."
"Whatever."
"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"
"Very scary."
"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.
"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."
"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"
"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."
Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."
"Who knows if I'll actually go?"
"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."
"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."
Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.
"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."
"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.
"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.
"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.
She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.
He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"
"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"
He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."
"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"
"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"
She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.
"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.
"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???
"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.
She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.
His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.
Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.
She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"
She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."
"Aw cute, I made you blush."
"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"
"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"
"Sure you were."
"I was."
"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."
"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"
"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."
He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.
This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.
"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.
There was a long pause. "W-what?"
"Y/n."
He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."
"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."
"I would have been content never knowing."
"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.
"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."
It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.
"Bug? You okay?"
"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."
"Sorry."
"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.
He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."
"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.
"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.
"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"
He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."
She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.
"By the way, check Twitter."
"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.
"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."
She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.
"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.
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Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.
"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."
"Booooo," he pouted.
"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.
"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"
She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."
Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.
"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.
"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."
"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."
"It's okay when I have people like you."
"People like me? What does that mean?"
"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.
She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."
"Goodnight."
**********
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haik-choo · 4 years
Text
request:  hiya :)) if it’s not too much can i request some hcs of waking up next to the karasuno first years? thank youuuu 💞
a/n: this is literally such a cute concept <3<3<3 omF i think they’d all just be so grateful for having someone like you eojhgeoriughero,,,,also only yamaguchi and kageyama are aged up lololol hinata and tsukki are still high schoolers 
@dearkozume because you wanted me to tag you in posts!!! <3
[WAKING UP NEXT TO THE KARASUNO FIRST YEARS]
-tsukishima, yamaguchi, kageyama, hinata
tsukishima kei. 
most likely it’s a sleepover at your house, because he doesn’t want akiteru walking in and embarrassing him by bringing up how soft he’s being with you lololol
it’s 11am, and he hears birds chirping, and decided to open his eyes, expecting to see his shelf of dinosaur figurines like every morning. but instead, he sees you gently closed eyes and slightly open lips. 
his eyes widen a little, before he reaches over to put on his glasses to get a better look at you, his movement stirring you awake. the first sight you see is tsukishima reaching over you, but instead you clamp onto his arm and tug him down so that he falls onto you with a small ‘oomf’
“i can’t see, you idiot”
“i didn’t ask if you could see baby <3 you blind mole rat <3″
you both just lay there, his body half on yours, half off. normally he’d get annoyed at someone clinging to him, but your gently smile and rosy cheeks just make his mouth close. 
he can’t get over how lucky he is to have someone who can deal with his personality with just as much fervor. he sighs, readjusting his grip on you and snuggling his head into your neck, a rare action
“we can stay for a little longer. i guess” he says but really he was never going to get up to leave in the first place 
and he gives you a little kiss on the side of your neck before falling back asleep and you both wake up at like 3pm <3 <3 fuck normal sleep schedules 
yamaguchi tadashi.
wakes up thirty minutes before you do to get up and brush his teeth because he hates having bad breath lololol so he’s not looking at you the first time he gets out of bed,,,but when he gets back into bed he settles down and gets cozy to spend the next few minutes just, staring at you
likes watching you scrunch your nose in your sleep. if you have any freckles or moles or whatever homeboy WILL draw a constellation of them in his head. he just loves noticing small details about you because he’s so detail-oriented 
you can feel his gaze penetrating your fucking soul so you wake up, and the first thing you see are his soft green brown eyes and the freckles that are dotted around them
“hmmm, tadashi, you’re so pretty” you’d say, and no matter how many times you say it when you wake up next to him he just COMBUSTS it’s so CUTE GO D
but the sleepiness makes him so much bolder and he just says whatever is on his mind “baby, you are so much prettier. like an angel” cue you giggling and turning to completely face him
and he’ll just lean in and kiss your forehead while his hand his like tucking hair behind your ear or some shit. and then he moves his hand down to yours and lace your fingies together <3YES SIRRRRR
“you smell like mint, baby, let me go brush my teeth and i’ll be back” “okay, be back soon <3″
and when you come back and snuggle with him in bed, the next hour is filled with aimless talking and scrolling on your phone and sometimes....other stuff ;) 
kageyama tobio. 
it depends on the day who wakes up before who. sometimes you’ll wake up before him because he has practice late or a really exhausting game, and other times when he’s not that tired when he goes to sleep he wakes up before you because he wants to workout or eat. but, most times you wake up before him
and today is one of those days. your eyes slowly pry open, the open curtains (tobio forgot to close them) made it painful, but you could bear it. especially when an extremely cute setter was laying next to you, stomach pressed on the bed with his arms under the pillow, his sleeping face positioned towards you
he always has an intense expression on his face, and when he’s sleeping it’s one of the only times you can see that tension and emotion dissipate into angelic beauty 
every once in a while he’ll grunt and roll back his shoulders, and so you always ends up giving him a shoulder massage. you gently reposition him for his head to be in your lap, and you just softly press down on his shoulders and he ends up waking up.
he’s used to the sensation, so he just hums and enjoys your hands kneading his back. mornings are very quiet with him, neither of you feel obligated to say anything, so you don’t. he’ll sometimes detail what happened at practice the other day, but most times he just has his eyes partially opened, relaxed
kisses your legs very softly whenever he’s ready to get up, making you smile softly as you thread your fingers through his hair one last time
“thank you, my shoulders really hurt,,,,,,but,,,,,” “but what tobio” “i,,,,wanna eat” “*sigh*”
hinata shoyo. 
yall always have sleepover’s at his place, and every once in a while natsu will join you, but this time she was spending the night at her friends house and his parents were out with their friends for an outing and you had him all to yourself <3
you definitely always wake up before him because boy is he a deep sleeper, and he doesn’t naturally get up until like. 12pm probably, every morning is a struggle for this poor baby
but this time, the sun has just risen, it’s probably only about seven am, but the light woke you up, and damn, you’re glad it did. the sunrise shining in from behind his orange mane makes it seem like he’s an actual angel
and his long eyelashes are so pretty, his mouth is open and probably has a little drool on the corner of it, there is no blanket or cover anywhere on him, and he’s sprawled like a starfish, one hand barely gripping onto your shirt
you can only stare at him for a few minutes before all of a sudden his eyes SNAP open and you nearly have a heart attack because he wakes up screaming “I’M GONNA BE LATE OH MY GOD DAICHI WILL HAVE MY HEAD” and it takes like a while minute for him to realize that you’re next to him and he’s not, in fact, late for anything
he breathes a sigh of relief and plops down next to you and kisses your cheek “sorry about that lol” 
the next like. three hours are spent with you attacking his face with kisses, only taking breaks to scroll on your phones for a while
will literally be the big spoon and rest his chin on your shoulder and rub his head against your neck and watch videos with you <3
“i wanna wake up like this every morning” “screaming about a murderous daichi?” “....nevermind”
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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years
Note
this is exactly how it went down in my head.
misha: hey, everything okay? do you need me to do something?
jensen: no, lay low. we’re figuring it out.
misha: got it.
— the next day —
misha: things settled. should i say anything? draw attention? stay neutral?
jensen: you don’t have to, but if you want, tread lightly. we’ve had enough chaos.
misha: say no more.
when nobody got your back you KNOW dmitri got your back.
ANYWAYS i turned my back for TWO MINUTES and y'all went the fuck off in my inbox so, you know the drill: more under the cut
NO BUT JENSEN’S RESPONSE LMAAAAAO honestly fallout theory is so on oh my God I can’t stop-
on god they are so loud like-
Worst damage control i've ever seen. god bles.
so true bestie
I think Jensen probably just wants to be done with this petty little drama, so if he has to pretend everything between them is okay he is going to be the bigger man and lay it to rest. Whatever is going on between them he definitely doesn't want to sort that out on social media and the earlier he pretends everything is sorted out the earlier people will forget about it again.
Also it's kinda funny how J*red Tweet was like implying they had a misunderstanding but still talk to each other regularly, while Jensen went full on the we grow apart a little bit, because we were busy, let's catch back up. Makes me wonder if they actually talked or if there managers just said hey that's not good pr, let's put that to rest. Also did J*red know before yesterday that they had a falling out or did he just not realize.
- 🐌 anon
literally jensen went out of his way to say 'uhhh we never talk, worstie' god if pr management is involved then they did a bad job. also j*red still does not realise they have fallen out. jshfjdsfh
Jackles was like God bless but we ain’t talking like this worstie
good for her.gif
csdsc heeft gevraagd:
All I need now is for Misha to tweet “ is it safe to come out now?” And I’ll be complete lmfao 😂😂😂
that would have been better than what we got lmfao
I have one fear and it's Jensen being forced to add j*red to his show and his other projects because he couldn't stop whining like a baby,,, ugh i hate him
i pretend i do not see
Kinda selfish of me tbh but i don't want them to be "friends" again, Jensen sweetie run as fast as you can
co-signed
Ok Jensen's answer to Jared tweet made me feel so bad for him. Like, I can see it's damage control and public relations (obviously) but there's stuff behind it. I can't name it, but idk, I felt terrible for texas man this time, I don't think that reply was written with a "love and light energy" or even without much care. I felt some heavy vibes.
- 🌻, who is now a fortune teller and a prophet apparently
yeah i feel hella bad for him to, for having to deal with this shit. nonnie please if you ever have anything to predict, lemme know sjdfhs
You know Jensen's tweet has the energy of like kindergarten wenn an other kid started a fight with you and the kindergarten teacher wants you to forgive each other and hung it out and you really don't want to, but your kindergarten teacher is being annoying and he isn't worth the annoyance either.
- 🐌 anon
you are not wrong
Incredibly thankful that I have the day off from work 😂 I'm with hatching chick anon, the 3 dots read as passive aggressive/insincere to me, and I love it! I haven't spent this many hours on tumblr since I first discovered cockles! (On a side note, the lack of fimmf posts today has me feeling like it's not friday lol) -🐢
i, too, miss fimmf but alas things happen, they do they do they do
I was right. :(
It got almost romantic...
👀
nonnie you know i love you but this is really not the case, like, at all??? idk how you could look at those tweets and think it was almost romantic. it was THEE most scripted, pr bullshit ever. it was staged and fake. idk what else to tell ya
Danneel liked Jensen's tweet
i saw
That is so so awkward I feel so sorry for all of us being exposed to this and so happy I chose to leave the Internet for half a day - tea anon
god bless your stance on that cause i would have hated missing out on this lmao
You know what? I think it’s okay being a 38 year old moron if you’re bringing us this type of content
im happy with the food but still think its not okay tbh
pspspsps Misha this is the perfect day for you to drop the gay Cas essay pspspspsp it is still pride month pspspsps
you know you want to king pspsps
So that JIB6 link (I think it was from your post, right?). I went and watched that bit, and a little more.
Jensen makes a comment about Jared being first on the call sheet because Sam was supposed to be the main focal character.
And that him nor Misha cared about what number they were, so in all that time it never changed.
And I’ll be… if that just doesn’t perfectly sum them up and their feelings on things. And how a certain someone can be petty… 🦚
idk if it was from my post? but maybe? my analysis probably? but yeah things are making more and more sense huh
Ohh that's also an alien? Welcome to the extraterrestial family then, purple alien anon!
Also it's probably because I'm coming off the high this drama gave me but I'm not looking forward to them trying so hard to convince us everything is normal between them. Even though we now Know, they will have to keep pretending. Today (yesterday?) was a shitshow but some masks fell off, at least for a moment and I kinda wish Jensen was less professional 😂
👽
oh for real, fallout theory IS confirmed and nothing they said today will change my mind, it only made me believe in it even more lmfao and with that in mind i am just gonna sip my tea if they try to be buddy buddy on main again
I THINK MISHA UNRETWEETED BUT HE TWEETED "LOVE AND MISS YOU BOTH" I'M LOSING MY DIGNITY HERE - tea anon
yeah he now answered them sjdfhsjfhsf instead of rt
MISHA COLLINS IS A KING I STAN THE RIGHT MAN
YOU SURE DO
I just know Misha’s process was oh crap I have to let people know I’m supporting them and I can’t choose sides. Ok. Retweet. NO. Delete. I love both of you. Yes, good.
sjdfsdfh this makes me think of that post that dissected jackles' birthday post for misha where he used the heart. 'call him bro, that makes it less obvious. nailed it.'
Lol I'm off for a few days and come back to total chaos... God I missed it here
Like the "et tu... #bravo" tweet? Made my day! Frikking hilarious (every time I see it I picture J*red with a pissy frech accent saying it out loud lol) it's just such an incredibly petty hissy fit he threw (I know he tweeted more later on but... Really all that stuff coming afterwards just sounds like damage control)
Missed you Rose
-🐻
LOVE the french accent detail im gonna do this too sdjfhsjfh missed you toooo!!!!
Oh man Misha is really gonna get hate for that I KNOW IT
sigh well. nothing he isnt used to by now, unfortunately
i mean i believe they feel like brothers, but constantly falling back on the “brother” thing to keep up appearances is really starting to feel like “#spnfamily” at this point.
honestly brothers can be very annoying, or so i have heard, so it fits with the fallout theory lmao
They actually said if we’re gonna make this gay we cannot have Jar*d Pad*lecki involved
oh my God this is the funniest timeline to ever exist God bless I’m just waiting to canon bi Mary
king shit tbh
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anxiousstark · 3 years
Text
S3 01 | Tattoo
BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE
Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall
Word count: 1871
Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, murder, dead body, swearing (always).
A/N: SEASON 3 HERE WE COME! Double update this week! 
↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.
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Summer was the greatest thing that happened to us, and without any doubt, the best thing that had happened to me since I arrived at Beacon Hills. Our summer was full of peace, which is what we needed. No creatures were trying to kill us or other people. We were safe, and even though we couldn't avoid being a little apprehensive, we knew that we were finally safe.
Scott, Melissa and I were able to sit down together, explaining to her everything that had happened. We were terrified because it wasn't easy to explain to someone you loved that danger followed you. After all, we weren't humans anymore. That night we told her everything. Melissa got teary, feeling guilty for not being able to help or do anything for us. We told her that we were fine, we would be fine.
During this peaceful holiday, I was able to get closer to both boys. Scott and I didn't throw ourselves at each other's throats. Of course, there was a long way to walk. We still needed to get used to everything. The hazel-eyed boy and I developed a new habit during summer, whenever we felt anxious we seemed to notice, bodies being attracted to each other, hands interlocking, hoping to give the comfort we sought. Holding hands became a soothing gesture between us. We did it unconsciously.
"Hey, Scott, sure you don't want something like this?" Stiles grabbed a folder, holding it up, showing it to the other boy. I walked closer to him, excited to see what was he holding, knowing Stiles, something that would make me snicker. "Too soon? Yeah." Of course, I snickered when I noticed that he was showing Scott the drawing of a beast that looked like the Kanima. Melissa allowed him to get a tattoo.
For what we got to know, Matt was dead. We still weren't sure what that would mean for Jackson. But we had promised ourselves that we wouldn't get into supernatural trouble during summertime. However, tomorrow was our first day back to class, which meant that the supernatural would come back to form part of our lives.
"I don't know, man, are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?" I walked around the room, admiring the drawings decorating the walls.
"I'm not changing my mind." Scott and I got closer especially at night. One night I woke up after having a nightmare where I saw my mother. It seemed like the other McCall was also having a nightmare, which ended in both of us, sleeping on his bed, and talking about the stuff that worried us. That night Scott McCall cried, he missed Allion, but he couldn't ignore everything that had happened.
"Okay, but why two bands?"
Scott shrugged, stating that he just liked it. "But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning, you know, or something?"
"Getting a tattoo means something."
Stiles had a small grin on his face, ready to inform Scott that wasn't the point. But the tattoo artist interrupted him. "He's right, tattooing goes back thousands of years. The Tahitian word 'tatua' means 'to leave a mark.' Like a rite of passage."
"Yeah, you see? He gets it."
"He's covered in tattoos, Scott, literally."
"Okay, you ready? You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?"
"Nope." Scott offered me a smile, ready to get the tattoo he has been asking for so long.
The boy standing next to me scratched his chin. "I tend to get a little squeamish though, so..." There was no time to analyze the situation. Stiles was lying on the floor, an uncomfortable posture making the circumstances even funnier.
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I sat on the passenger seat on Stiles's Jeep. Scott had bought a bike with the money he had gained while working for Deaton in the clinic. So now, every day, I was driven to class by the hazel-eyed boy.
"Don't you think it was strange?" He asked me again as I spaced out. "It seems like something supernatural to me. Exactly when we go back to class." After Scott's tattoo, we were ready to go home and have dinner together. My half-brother's happiness due to the tattoo didn't last for long as an excruciating pain made him take the bandages off, realizing the tattoo had disappeared. Maybe we should have taken into account that he was a werewolf, and he healed faster. A tattoo was an open wound.
On our way home, we saw Lydia's car, and not to anyone's surprise, she was with Allison. A deer hit the front of their car, making us run to them to check if they were hurt. Scott was convinced that the deer was terrified.
"I suppose, Stiles." I sighed, running my hands through my hair.
"Hey," He glanced at me for a second, quickly looking back to the road ahead of him. "You alright?" His hand ended up resting on top of my hand, which was resting on my thigh.
"I feel like so many bad things are going to happen again." I lamented. "We still don't know anything about me. There are obstacles everywhere."
"I told you. We will find answers, okay?" He squeezed my hand. To be honest, some nights during summer were spent searching for every scaly creature that exists in the supernatural world. But without knowing what I could do, we couldn't conclude anything. When we arrived at school, we walked directly to our classroom.
Stiles and I glanced at each other when only a couple of minutes into the lecture, Scott had to leave class. My mind went to the worst scenario case, thinking that maybe Melissa was in danger. Stilisnki seemed to notice my change of behaviour, extending his hand, offering me to grab it. I did.
He rested back on his chair, sighing, tired from doing whatever the teacher has ordered us to do. "Hey, Lydia. What is that?" When I followed his gaze, I noticed a bandage around the pretty strawberry blonde girl's ankle. "Is that from the accident?"
"No. Prada bit me."
"Your dog?" I asked. Stiles's other hand extended forward, forbidding me from biting my pen, a nervous habit I didn't notice I was doing.
"No, my designer handbag. Yes, my dog." She replied as if I was stupid, which made me grumble a little while Stiles smiled at my reaction.
"Has it ever bitten you before?" Lydia shook her head. "Okay. What if it's, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like, how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something?"
"Meaning what? There's gonna be an earthquake?"
"Or something. I just... maybe it means something's coming. Something bad." Stiles was completely right. Something was wrong, I felt it.
"It was a deer and a dog. What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice..." Her words were interrupted when something hit the window, leaving a trail of blood. Every student was interrupted form their concentration, glancing at the window. Jennifer, our teacher, walked towards it. Crows, so many crows were coming towards us. Another one hit the window, and then another, and another.
"S-Stiles..." I whispered, my hand rapidly clutching his shirt between my fingers. The windows couldn't resist so many crows hitting it. They ended up being shattered, thousand of crows getting inside the classroom.
I quickly grabbed Lydia as she seemed to be shocked enough to react, covering her head with my arms. I felt someone doing the same thing for me. Stiles's back pressed tightly against mine, the inside of his thighs pressed against the outside of mines. His arms covering my face after he saw that I was hit by a couple of enraged crows.
Of course, the cops had been called. They were now asking around, trying to understand what was going on. However, this was something out of their reach.
"You alright?" Stiles's hands grabbed my cheeks, lightly moving my head from side to side, making sure that there wasn't any wound or scratch.
"You?" My fingers grasped a feather that seemed to be stuck in his hair, pulling it out. He nodded, sighing in relief, taking me into his arms. That is another habit we had developed during the summer.
"Guys," Mr. Stilisnki came closer to us, his eyes focusing on our intertwined hands. "No more class for today, okay?" He offered us a smile. "Go back home, alright? Make sure you guys are in a safe place." We both nodded.
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"Yeah, I see it. It's two bands, right? What does it mean?"
"I don't know. It's just something I traced with my fingers."
"Why is this so important to you? Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?"
"To mark something." Stiles crossed his arms while letting Derek know as if he didn't know already. He looked so proud of himself.
"Well, that's in Tahitian. In Samoan, it means 'open wound'. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned 18. I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, to make it kind of a reward."
"For what?"
"For not calling or texting Allison all summer. Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes. I was trying to give her the space she wants. Goin' four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like a, uh..."
"Like an open wound." Stiles finished for him. I sniffed, wiping my wet cheeks. I could feel a pair of eyes on me. "Wait, are you crying?"
I sobbed even harder when the boy standing next to me noticed that I was weeping. "I don't know why," I continued cleaning my face. "I just got emotional." The three boys grinned, Stiles embracing me while softly laughing.
"The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt." Derek let him know, but that wasn't going to scare Scott.
Fire. He was going to burn Scott. "Oh, wow. That's a... that's a lot for me. So I'm gonna take that as my cue. I'm just gonna wait outside." He tried to leave, and I tried to follow him, but Derek wasn't having any of it when he got up, grabbing us from the back of our shirts, and telling us to hold Scott down.
When we were leaving Derek's house after holding Scott down, who cried loudly, until he passed out. The McCall boy couldn't help but grin and be excited about his first tattoo.
"Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now." Stiles examined it, hands deep down in his pockets.
"Yeah. I kind of needed something permanent. Everything that's happened to us... everything just changes so fast." I sighed, linking my arms with both boys, who offered me a smile. "Everything's so, uh... Ephemeral."
"Studying for the psats?"
"Yep."
"Nice."
Scott opened the front door, but rare enough, he examined it while rubbing his fingers against the wood. "You painted the door. Why'd you paint the door?" He asked, looking back at Derek.
"Go home, Scott."
"Hey," I intervened. Scott's breath got quicker, scratching the paint off the door. "What is going on, Scott?" There was a symbol on the door.
.
.
TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday - @10minutesofscreentime - @momentitodebruh​ -
People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.
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janekfan · 3 years
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IF you are still taking prompts...would you consider something precanon with Jon and Tim? tim's been trying to befriend an isolated/lonely researcher jon that no one's a fan of, sees him sick or being bothered by someone or any one of our usual terrible scenarios and is immediately like 'is anyone gonna take care of this man??'
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650999
Tim flipped his pen around in his fingers, internally cheering when he executed the trick shot over his thumb, and kept an eye on Research’s newest recruit. The tiny man, stuffy and pompous and peculiar, had only been with them a little over a week and from day one Tim marked him as a challenge.
He would become this angry and diminutive fellow’s best friend, so help them both.
Currently, one Jonathan Sims was balanced on the tips of his patent leather brogues, stretching up for a volume he could never hope to reach and Tim, seeing his moment of opportunity, allowed his shadow to fall over him as he easily retrieved it for him.
“Tim. Tim Stoker.” He gave over the book along with a beaming grin and an introduction, holding a hand out for him to shake and lifting a brow when all Jon did was glare skeptically at his open palm, arms tightening around his prize.
“Sims.” Imperiously, with the slightest lift of his chin. “Jon. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Stoker.” If Tim had been quicker on the uptake, he would have replied with the customary that was my father, but as it was he found himself faced with the stiff line of his back as he walked swiftly deeper into the stacks.
He was awkward and prickly, for sure, there was no getting around that, but knowledgeable and worked hard at his job, harder than Tim currently was anyway with this quest to focus on. Jon kept his head down, literally, at his desk he was nigh folded in half for most of the shift, not even stopping for lunch most of the time unless something broke his hyperfocus and he caught sight of the clock. No wonder he was so scrawny, just skin and bone beneath his crisp starched shirts and prim jumpers. So Tim began leaving snacks behind; a piece of fruit, bottle of water, cereal bar, a bit of chocolate, and it gave him no end of amusement each and every time Jon noticed. Feet up on his own desk, Tim would watch Jon glance around, ignoring the irritated looks of their coworkers while he tried to puzzle out who kept doing it and the first time he actually took a bite tasted of sweet, sweet victory.
Time passed, Tim finally convinced Jon to call him by his first name and was soundly told off for attempting to call him Jonny. He learned of his preference for tea over coffee, that he was raised by his grandmother, and feared spiders absolutely, having been the unfortunate recipient of a harmless office prank. It was no secret that Jon was not well liked and didn’t seem to care. He became the butt of many a joke and impersonation. That posh accent, put on or not, was too good to pass up and his lack of social acumen didn’t help his case even though he was smart as a whip and picked up any slack by virtue of staying late.
“Bags under your eyes are looking heavy today.”
“Hm? Oh, Tim.” Jon rubbed a knuckle under the rim of his glasses. “Yes, I. I haven’t been sleeping well.” He dropped into his chair heavily, pressing fingertips against his temples and massaging them.
“Take a sick day. You’ve put in enough over time.” Jon craned his neck, blinked up at him with a confused look, as though he were trying to figure out a difficult puzzle.
“M’alright.” Mumbling, the wood grain suddenly seemed very interesting. “You should get to work though.”
“Whoa! Not my boss there yet, Jonny-boy!” It elicited a familiar, nettlesome response and put Tim’s heart at ease. Jon probably was just tired.
“Oi, you daft twit, watch where you’re going.” Tim turned the corner on his return from lunch to find Jon scrambling amongst a sprawl of papers, frantically trying to collect them up.
“S’sorry, I’ll help--”
“Done enough, sod off.” Jon froze, muttered another apology and handed off the pages he’d gathered together.
“You alright?” Sidling up to him, Tim did him the favor of ignoring the trembling line of Jon’s mouth. “Guy’s just being a prick ‘cause his wife’s leavin’ him.”
“Fine, m’fine, Tim.” And in a moment he was, back at his desk and pointedly thumbing through a file and pretending to cross check his notes.
The next morning was no better and Jon arrived under the wire, hair unkempt and tie just slightly crooked. Very unlike him and this time he watched as Jon let his head tip forward for a few seconds, bracing himself on the arms of his chair before retreating into the forest of bookshelves. If left to his own devices, Tim was sure he’d end up ticking the librarians off again. He tended to leave a mess in his wake when searching for what he needed and when he didn’t reappear by noon, Tim went off in search of him, expecting to find him leafing through some manuscript or another and instead discovering him cross legged in the shadows, eyes closed, head tipped back and resting on a shelf. There was a short stack of books pertaining to his research by his knee but his hands were empty and still in his lap.
“What’s wrong?” Jon made a vague gesture. “Headache?”
“Mm. Didn’t mean to, to...uh.”
“End up on the floor?”
“Mm.
“You should go home.” The very suggestion drew his features into a frown and he cracked open dark lashes just enough for Tim to catch a glimpse of glassy brown.
“I’ve barely worked here a month, I. I can’t. I can’t skive off.”
“You’re ill, Jon. That’s not--Look, look.” Tim crouched beside him. “It’s okay to call off sick.” It had the opposite effect, and Tim had to steady Jon after he struggled to his feet with his armful of books. “Jon.”
“No, no. I’ll be over whatever this is by tomorrow.”
Tim sighed. Jon was, in fact, not over whatever he’d come down with, and was now stifling a series of wet, breathless coughs in the crook of his elbow, unaware of the dirty looks the other researchers were throwing his way. The harder Tim tried to make him see reason, the harder Jon resisted, insisting that he was fine, it was allergies or something else but he wasn’t feeling ill enough to miss work.
“I’m holding you up as we speak.” Sluggish, Jon’s eyes tracked Tim’s arm from where it was attached to his shoulder all the way down to the firm grip he had on his bicep to keep him from listing even further.
“Jus’...bit dizzy…”
“Yeah, that’s not a good thing.”
“I can, I can still do my job.” And Tim wasn’t quite sure who he was trying to convince. “I can.” Tim allowed him his arm back, not commenting on his barely controlled fall into his desk chair or the soft groan of pain that ended in another fit, weaker than the last.
“I know you can, I just want to see you take care of yourself.”
“Why?” Bloodshot eyes narrowed in suspicion and Tim didn’t know what to make of it.
“We’re friends?”
“We’re not.” Tim didn’t let it discourage him or take it personally. Clearly, Jon wasn’t well, was trying to convince himself that he was, that he didn’t need help. Besides, Tim looked on the bright side, Jon didn’t sound completely sure.
“Alright. Well, as your not-friend, I’m advising you to at least make yourself some tea.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
“Christ, Sims!”
“I, I’m sorry, let me, let me help.”
“You’ve done quite enough.” It seemed to Tim that wherever Jon was lately he was in some sort of trouble and when he veered into the breakroom to check on the situation his heart went out to the Lilliputian researcher. Jon had dropped and shattered a mug full of hot water, apparently splashing the man currently yelling at him. Tim took in his trembling hands, the flush high on his vacant face, and the unbearable vulnerability, feeling those big brother instincts rise like a tide. He caught him up again by the arm, drawing him away from the mess and the mumbling.
“You’re like a furnace, buddy.” Gently, with a cupped hand, Tim lifted his jaw and tried to catch his slippery gaze. The heat cradled in his palm was scorching.
“M’not.”
“Now you’re just being contrary.” He led him away with his fingers just at the small of his back stopping at their desks long enough to gather up his things and call for a cab. He balked, hesitating before stepping in and Tim encouraged him with another careful push, helping him back out again when his knees threatened to give. Guiding him inside the flat he dropped their stuff by the door and looked around with a pensive hum. “Next time we’ll go to mine.” Under his breath. Jon’s was cold and not well lit, sparsely furnished with a second hand couch and mismatched tables. It was clean if spartan and somehow very Jon.
“Tim?” Thready, tired, sinking into the couch where Tim deposited him.
“Hey, there. Back in a tick. I’m gonna get you that tea.” Assuming he had any. Assuming he had anything at all. But there was a bottle of paracetamol on the kitchen counter beside an open box tea and a bottle of honey. “Take these, drink this down.” Dimly, Jon followed his instructions, tugging at his buttons and Tim shooed him away to change, surprised when he returned in soft, overlarge clothes. For as prim and proper as he tried to be at work, Jon was a complete bum at home. “Should go to sleep.” Petulant, Jon shook his head, flopping back on the couch and wrapping himself up in a knitted throw like a burrito. “Why not?” This side of his coworker was so soft and unexpected and Tim couldn’t stop himself.
“M’not tired.” Soft, unexpected, and childish.
“Uh huh.” Tim ordered in, something spicy and brothy, and praised Jon’s progress before tugging him, cajoling him into lying his head in his lap. Bad telly droned on, half lidded eyes blinked slow, and Tim was reminded painfully of nights and weekends and mornings spent this exact same way with someone else. Someone gone.
“Why’re you doing this?” Tim dug his fingers into unruly curls, grinning stupidly when Jon melted like a scruffed cat.
“We’re buddies, buddy.” Jon laughed, just an exhale between parted lips.
Mid afternoon the following day Tim proclaimed his work done, confirming it when Jon’s cactus like demeanor made a reappearance with all his fussing. After inputting his number into his cell phone himself, he ruffled already sleep mussed hair, smirking at Jon’s futile attempt to set it right.
“Call if you need anything.”
“I will.” Tim knew he wouldn’t, but it made him feel better anyway. It was the weekend. Jon looked miles better, and he was set up for success with all his tea and meds and snacks within easy reach. Leftover soup waited in the fridge for him to heat later. “Stop fretting, Tim.” But he could hear the thread of affection buried under all the exasperation.
And if he was imagining it, well. He was ever an optimist.
Monday. And Tim was sat on the corner of Jon's desk shoving chocolate digestives into his mouth and rifling through his notes having already ignored one request to leave off.
“You don’t have many friends, do you Jon?” Jon pushed his glasses up from where they’d slipped down the bridge of his nose and selected a biscuit for himself.
“Never needed many.”
“Do you have any?” Jon snatched the pages out of his hand and brushed away any stray crumbs, offering Tim a shy smile.
“I’ve you, don’t I?”
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perlukafarinn · 4 years
Note
Destiel 6 + 43 :)
friends to lovers + old married couple (but “old married couple” in this case doesn’t mean literally)
They’re on their way to Sam’s apartment to pick him for dinner, Dean and Cas in the front seat, Charlie and her new girlfriend Gilda in the back. They’re already running a little late and Cas keeps trying to give Dean directions, as if he doesn’t know the way to Sam’s like the back of his hand.
“Not since construction started downtown,” Cas argues. “Most of 23rd street is closed, you would be better off taking a right by the University.”
Dean scoffs. “I know what I’m doing, Cas. You don’t even own a car!”
“No, but I took this route on my bike a couple of days ago.”
“Oh, well, since you biked-”
“Are they always like this?” Gilda asks from the back, quiet but not enough so that Dean can’t hear it.
Charlie laughs. “Not always but they bicker like an old married couple.”
Dean’s left eye twitches and he clams his mouth shut, cutting himself off mid-argument. Charlie has called them that before but not in a while and it didn’t used to sting like that. He’d rather not dwell on why.
He takes his normal route despite Cas’ protests and has to turn around halfway to Sam’s when they run into construction.  
Cas, to his credit, doesn’t say ‘I told you so’.
*
Cas forgot his lunch at home. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to worry Dean but he’s been really busy at work lately, working later and later hours, and Dean wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot to eat altogether.
Since he’s self-employed, Dean’s got no problem taking a long break today to swing by Cas’ office with his lunch. As a joke, mostly on himself, he stuffs it in a brown paper bag and scribbles Cas’ name on it along with a crudely-drawn heart.
Cas’ secretary, Alfie, gives Dean a smile when he approaches his desk holding up the bag. Dean considers just barging into Cas’ office (he’s done it enough times) but Alfie holds up his hand like he knows exactly what he’s thinking and picks up his phone.
“Mr. Novak?” he says brightly. “So sorry to interrupt, but your husband is here with your lunch.”
Dean’s eyes widen. He can feel the heat rising to his cheeks, especially when Alfie just nods at Cas’ response and waves Dean inside - Cas clearly didn’t bother correcting him.
Cas is shuffling through some papers when Dean enters his office, phone nestled in the crook of his neck, but he quickly hangs up and puts them aside with a grateful smile when he sees Dean.
“I knew I’d forgotten something,” he says, accepting the bag from Dean’s hand and snorting when he sees the inscription on it. “Thank you, dear.”
It’s so obviously meant to be a joke, one at Alfie’s expense for making such a silly assumption, and still Dean can’t keep his heart from skipping a beat.
He plasters on a fake smile. “Hey, what kinda husband would I be if I let you go hungry?”
“Are you stopping for lunch?” Cas asks.
Dean wasn’t planning on it but he nods anyway, pulling up a chair to sit at Cas’ desk. 
*
Dean has almost put the whole lunch-office-husband thing out of his mind a week later, when Sam calls and tells him that his apartment building is being fumigated and he needs someplace to stay.
It’s a tight squeeze but of course Dean says to stay at his; Sam’s landlord is footing the bill for motel rooms but only the cheapest sort and they spent enough of their childhoods bouncing between those. Dean’s not gonna let Sam be homeless again, not even for a day.
The plan is for Sam and Dean to take turns sleeping on the pull out couch. Sam offers to take the first night and he’s still out cold when Dean gets up to make breakfast the next morning.
The coffee is ready and the bacon is sizzling on the pan by the time Cas gets out of his room. He tiptoes past Sam, still fast asleep on the couch, and sits down at the kitchen counter.
“Should we wake him for breakfast?” he asks quietly.
Dean shakes his head. “He should wake up soon anyway, I’ll reheat this if I have to.”
Cas nods. A couple minutes later everything is cooked and Dean sits down next to him with a plate for each. They eat in silence, Sam not even stirring, and Dean would be worried about the kid if he didn’t know from experience just what a heavy sleeper he can be.
His attention is snatched away from Sam when Cas reaches for his plate, snatching up one of his bacon slices. Dean grabs him by the wrist but Cas is undeterred, bending his head down to take a bite of his stolen bacon.
“Dude, get some of your own.”
“I had some,” Cas says, licking his lips and Dean is suddenly all too aware of how warm Cas’ wrist feels underneath his fingers. “I finished it and you gave yourself extra slices.”
“Did not,” Dean lies. 
Then, impulsively, before Cas can take another bite, he ducks his head and snatches the rest of the bacon from his grip. His lips graze Cas’ skin as he does so and he hears Cas let out a strangled sound.
He straightens, flushing as he sees Cas staring at him with wide eyes.
Sam clears his throat.
“Sam!” Dean says, just a little too loud, dropping Cas’ hand like a hot potato. “You’re awake!”
Sam peers at him from the couch, and Dean’s not sure if he’s suspicious or just tired. His hair is flat on one side from resting on the pillow and sticking up on the other, and any other time Dean would be laughing or getting a camera.
“I’m going to go shower,” Cas says quietly, slipping from his seat before Dean can respond. Both Winchesters watch him leave, the room falling silent as he closes the bathroom door behind him.
Sam looks back at Dean. “Are you sure you’re not married?”
Dean flips him off.
*
Those fours years that Dean has on Sam must make a hell of a difference, because Dean cannot for the life of him understand how Sam could sleep on that torture device they call a couch. 
The mattress is thin, way too soft, and lumpy in all the worst places. What’s worse is the noise it makes as Dean tosses around trying to fall asleep, the creaking springs waking him up every time he manages to drift off.
At some point in the night - Dean’s not sure when, though it’s well after midnight - Cas pokes his head out of his room.
“Dean?”
Dean licks his lips. “Yeah?”
“Get in here.”
Dean should protest, if only for the sake of his sanity. But it’s late and he’s exhausted and his back already aches from this hell-spawn of a mattress, so he gets up and follows Cas back into his room.
Cas doesn’t say another word, just crawls back in bed, leaving a decent bit of space beside him. Dean stands there staring for a moment, silently cursing whatever deity might be listening, then gets in after him.
He settles at the very edge of the mattress, leaving as much space between them as possible. His body is tense and sleep feels far off but he still closes his eyes, focusing on keeping his breaths even and not noticing the warmth radiating from Cas’ body.
Despite his anxiety, Dean must still manage to drift off at some point because he’s suddenly blinking his eyes open and it’s morning.
Cas is facing him now, lying just a couple of inches away, and not only are their legs tangled together underneath the comforter but Cas’ hand is resting on Dean’s waist. 
Dean swallows, but before he can wonder how to de-tangle himself from Cas without waking him up, Cas draws in a sharp breath through his nose. Dean is unable to move as Cas opens his eyes, peering around in slight confusion before settling on Dean’s face.
And he smiles. Dean’s heart jumps at that smile, at the warmth of it, and he finds himself returning it despite himself. Why isn’t every morning like this?
“What are you thinking?” Cas asks, his voice a low rumble.
“That every morning should be like this,” Dean answers honestly.
He only realizes what he’s said when Cas’ eyes widen, all traces of sleep suddenly gone from them. Jesus Christ, what the hell was he thinking? There is no un-romantic way Cas could interpret that! He could have reached down and grabbed Cas’ dick and it would have been a less obvious come-on.
“I didn’t-” Dean stutters. “I meant-” 
Cas gives him a pointed look, effectively silencing him. “I know what you meant.”
Then he’s leaning in, pausing just long enough for Dean to realize what’s going on before closing the distance between them, kissing Dean with such tenderness that it aches. Dean’s still barely with the program but he kisses Cas back, crowding in closer and cupping Cas’ cheek with his hand not caught in the scant space between them.
Cas pulls away and Dean’s not proud of the noise he makes then but he opens his eyes again and Cas is looking at him with such heat that it’s hard to care about anything else.
“How long, Dean?” 
“Years,” Dean admits, and it’s just one embarrassing confession after another this morning isn’t it? “Fuck, years.”
“It’s been years for me too,” Cas says. “I can’t believe - all this time we could’ve-”
Dean places a finger against his lips, cutting him off. “Then lets not waste any more.”
Cas laughs, breathlessly agreeing, and Dean leans in to kiss him again, putting an end to their conversation for now. 
They’ve got some catching up to do.
*
They’re married less than four months later. 
At this point, it’s really nothing more than a formality. 
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bittybattybunny · 3 years
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I hope your not feeling down on your writing skills because I haven't caught up and commented on your latest releases. It's not you it's that I pick too many fanfics to follow and they all update a lot and I've been so busy and I've fallen behind on so many fics from various authors and sometimes my depression just makes me want to lie in bed all day doing nothing and it doesn't help I have to spend my limited spoons helping family everyday. I know these aren't good excuses, but I do sympathize with the lack of energy feeling at least. But your work really does bring a lot of joy to my life. It's so fun keeping up with your various AUs, and your latest one that features Kaya as Spider King has me really hyped because I want to learn more about Kaya, she's so fun! And Ruclipse is such a good comfort ship that just hits all the things I like seeing in a ship. You're so amazing and creative and it's awful that anyone would try to make you feel otherwise! Like your newest OC, Justin Tyme seems like such a lovable dumbass bastard. I love his wild, curly hair and his dapper outfit. I can't wait to see what dumb shit he gets himself into! I know this is really long and rambly, but I hope you know you have fans who genuinely love your work. I don't know if you're still thinking about that one comment you mentioned that got you really down, but honestly, fuck that guy. I don't know what they said but it must have been pure BS to have you doubting your hard earned art skills. I wish I could do more to prove you're awesome and that your fans really admire you, I just hope you don't stop sharing what you love because some rando was nasty for no good reason. Because we love what you do!
It's not like anyone one person nonny so please don't blame yourself. This has been an ongoing thing for a few months actually...
it's just a general thing over all lately like. I mentioned this in dm's with a friend but overall past few months I've had lower engagement overall with my works and it really does a number on my confidence. More so because like your latter point.
yes, I am still very much thinking about that one negative comment. Because that person also has the need to comment on other things and I even had a thing asking why I took a few weeks to update (when reality I posted to another ongoing fic and my TLC chapters are long chapters) and just the fact they could tear into a character (yes it was a comment on a character specifically and not even a main character it's a side character who has an important role for Snatcher's growth as a person down the line) then go saying "why didn't you update" when I posted a double update that week---
Like it lives in my head rent free and I want to literally cry because like the character is a focal in an upcoming chapter and I can't deal with another "why are they back" type thing. because "everyone finds them annoying"
And I'll be honest. it was Kaya. Like I've been trying to have fun with my BCU stuff with her as Spiderking because it's engaging for me and me and @/doodleimprovement even came up with a b-plot involving Kaya and Hattie trying to hook Nell and Marcus together and it's one of the best things as well as Kaya and Nell having a really good relationship.
but because of that one comment it makes me hesitant to do anything with Kaya despite she's one of my oldest ocs, my most thought out ocs and I adore her beyond anything. Like yes she's over powered and such and in TLC rn she comes off as a know it all, but upcoming chapters will show she's just a spacey kid who's trying to fit into a role others decided for her and isn't really as all mighty as she seems. Snatcher even ends up thinking of her as a little sister more than anything. Like fuck I'm even hesitant to share anything on her actual story despite how much work is in it. Like she's my favorite Oc (that's why shes my discord icon, and I'm pretty sure she's my twitter icon as well)
And like the points in the comment just. IDK they didn't fit to her, if anything the points are more suited to be shot at Eclipse.
Which is another thing I just get iffy on. I love RuClipse and everything with it. I love writing and drawing the dorks. But I'm now so afraid if Kaya could be attacked for only showing in a handful of chapters that don't even touch on who she is, when is someone going to finally tell me off on my wolf? who's going to tear into a character I pour a lot of personal shit into to try and comfort myself?
I use Ruclipse to deal with my own romantic heart, they are what I wish I could have so I love to write them, I hurt them but i like to make them happy in the end. Someone who can deal with your highs and lows. No ones perfect but you can still figure it out and love even the negative parts (I am a heavy romantic OTL)
he is in fact a lovable bastard. i have fun plans and he gives me an excuse for why Cel is so tired and having to be the brain cell and how she even wound up working with the time kids when she's so much older than they are. Currently I'm trying to think of how to use him and honestly I think he's gonna wind up hella comic relief fun guy who's just making a mess and do his own side story while Hat and Bow are busy in subcon----
thank you, I don't mind the rambly it kinda gave me a chance to get this off my chest... like I've typed this kinda response up time and time again and I always delete. I feel like I'm whining because I get upset but it's just, I spend so much time making things, I use all my spoons on either working or creating, I just want to know if it means anything but then negativity lives in my head because what's a functioning meat cube??? I try to stay positive but it's hard. Like another thing is Moon Guardian; the reason I haven't updated? because I have had someone bothering me about it. weekly I get asked about how I'm doing on it but it's not from a place of "want to read it" it's because I told them they couldn't post a certain thing until the chapter is done so it feels pressuring to constantly get asked because I feel the only reason they want to post is to boost their thing and I'm just the machine to boost it with my characters and comic.... like it feels they've taken the comic from me and it sucks because I have so many fun things planned. Like I accidentally went off on Nina about a thing with Alpine skyline and Eclipse as well as a thing with a Time Rift and a Jelly ghost.
Sorry kinda went off, just I've sat on this thought train since like early april. I've done my best to ignore it and just keep going but it's gotten really hard with the fact my health hasn't been really great. I've spent a lot of time lately bed bound because I just hurt so badly. if I'm not resting, I'm at my day job which is incredibly stressful rn as I only really work mornings and I see things that are being missed so then i report it and it still gets missed and i can't get it fixed after a point cuz we're back to full service and need the people so I can't nitpick but just.... I'm bitter okay like if I left this shit when I worked I would have gotten yelled at but now we just let it slide??? and this stresses me out which then causes my body to freak out because I'm stressed which puts me in more pain. and then like at work have people acting shocked I have my cane or soemthing and just skfdslkfksdf
so my energy is so tanked. and then the negative comment in my head, no idea if people like things cuz I have no idea if I hear nothing, just has had me doubting why post. Like I should go back to just not posting my stories and sketches or w/e and slink back to my hole like I was before.
idk Its just. a bad night in the house of bun. I've had these thoughts festering and I guess today was the dam breaking. It's probs cuz I'm nervous posting Chimeras because it's a very dark au.
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