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ktheist · 3 years

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2prettybestfrens | jjk

muses. jeon jeongguk x reader x park jimin ft. kim taehyung

genre. strangers to lovers!au. university!au.

words. 18.2k

drabbles. pjm

feedback.

warnings. mentions of physical insecurities, alcohol use, juul use, mention of adoption, mentions of dysfunctional families, handcuffs - lots of handcuffs, jeongguk crossdressing, too many one-sided pinings lmao

synopsis. you’re in love with kim taehyung who’s in love with jennie kim who’s in love with professor kim namjoon. so park jimin doesn’t exactly fit in all of this, yet he’s always been there in your weakest moments which may or may not be caused by your heartbreak boy - or so jeongguk likes to call him.

oh and jeongguk? you don’t even know jeongguk until that party-gone-awry night where you end up handcuffed together to ponder on what you did.

when you uploaded a snapchat of your darkened room and a single teary-eyed emoji because kim taehyung uploaded one where a beautiful girl was covering her mouth while she giggled, jimin snapped back a ‘why r u awake 😬’ to which you snapped the same darkened room with a slightly different angle and a ‘just cause’. his last snap to you contained a ‘cool wanna call?’ before you dialed him up and ended up talking until 5 in the morning before bidding each other-

“well, good night then,” you’d muttered.

“g’morning,” he’d wished you back in a soft mumble and a hint of sleepiness taking over.

that happened on a friday night. on monday and for the rest of the week, you merely greeted each other in the hallway and went on your days without the inclusion of the other.

when you sat by yourself on the bench on the sidewalk of campus, under the shade of a great old tree a few feet away from your department after being left high and dry when kim taehyung’s friends asked him if he’s joining them to get mcdonald’s which he’d in turn asked if you wanted to tag along and you said you were good only because you never did well in groupies - park jimin sat down next to you, head thrown back as he squinted at the gaps of the leaves where the tiniest of sun rays managed to pass through and dot his face. blonde tresses swaying ever so softly when the wind blew past you.

“so how was finance?” he looked like he was asking the waving branches.

“eh, it was fine, professor kim’s a good teacher,” you shrugged, the sight of jennie suavely smiling and said professor shooting glances at her made you mentally vomit.

“man,” he blew a gust of air from his mouth as he ran a hand through his semi-long tresses, “were we in the same class? because all i remember was dozing off five minutes into class.”

“that’s why you should sit at the front,” you’d suggested.

it was then, did he push himself off the ground and stood up, black and white jacket pushed back as he slipped his hands into the pocket of his jeans. eyes narrowing while his tongue protruded against the inside of his cheek before he went, “you hungry?”

“starving,” you rolled your eyes before collecting your mac and holding it to your chest, bag slung over your shoulders.

the both of you didn’t go to mcdonald’s but the food tasted just as good that day at the cafe in your faculty.

when kim taehyung asked jennie if she was free friday night and the girl turned to you with an endearingly oblivious, “do we have any plans on friday?” and taehyung awkwardly but not so hesitantly corrected, “um, i mean, just you jennie,” the air, without a doubt turned tangibly tense and awkward.

“oh,” jennie’s brows knitted together as she stared at him, as though trying to spot the caption on his forehead as to why he invited only her when everyone knew you and jennie never go anywhere without the other if you didn’t have any prior engagements, “well, ___ and me are going to hang out together so yeah, i’m not free.”

you weren’t sure if she was dumb or playing dumb but you’d found out later that night, that she’d been irritated with kim taehyung’s non-considerate advancements which she’d recently noticed seemed to exclude you ‘i hate people who make plans in front of someone and not invite them’ was her exact word before she followed up with a ‘blockedt’.

but backtrack to when the tension seemed to rise higher than the sky, you were saved by jimin when he came mini-jogging towards you with that adorable boyish smile and crescent eyes, “hey, i was looking for you - you wanna walk to accounting together?”

you’d waved jennie and taehyung goodbye and gladly walked with jimin to class.

and so it goes, with kim taehyung’s eyes lighting like fireworks in the midnight sky when he sees jennie and the girl itching to make a beeline to the opposite side of where he comes from and you shooting her ‘be nice’ looks whilst park jimin pops up now and then in the most convenient time until ‘us’ no longer comprise of you and jennie but also taehyung and jimin.

so much so, some of your casual friends come to you asking for either of the boys when they seem to have something to inform them which you’re not sure why isn’t informable through text. but either way, you’ve become two best friends with additional friends.

maybe said additional friends happen to fall in the top list of cuties in the girls and gays’ books but besides kim taehyung, if you looked, like really really looked at park jimin, you concurred, perhaps he does have the right to be in said list with his unblemished, smooth skin, perfect pink lips and pretty sparkly eyes.

“what?” his lips do the thing where they curl, revealing a pair of perfectly lined white pearls.

“nothing,” you say as you find yourself third-wheeling in taehyung’s bmw with jimin at the back and the first commenting something about his older sister liking to shop at zara as well when jennie asked you if you were free tomorrow to go to the mall near campus.

“i mean i can go with you girls, i have a two-hour gap between classes,” the boy offers.

“oh,” the first laugh trickles out of your mouth without a stop switch, “you’re so cute.”

you can hear jennie snickering in the passenger seat as you turn away from the angle where taehyung could see you in the rear-view mirror, only to come face to face with jimin who seems to get your humor.

“it’s not a big deal,” taehyung shrugs, a tinge of pride in his voice.

“my man,” jimin pats said man on his shoulder, “you don’t know jack shit about women.”

“what?” the older boy asks, perplexed and quite honestly irritated for some reason - but then again, he never seems to like jimin’s quick-to-catch-on nature when it comes to any girls-related topics.

“two hours is not enough to shop, taehyung,” jennie finally decodes the long standing cipher, “we can barely explore one shop.”

by the end of her words, you’re is full out snickering like an unattractive hyena, “i thought you have a sister?”

“i do,” there’s a tinge of confusion in his tone, “she usually goes shopping with her boyfriend.”

“well, how long did it take them to go shopping?” she quizzes, sharing an amused look with jimin.

“uh,” it’s then, do you hear the sound of the screws in taehyung’s brain twisting, “she usually stays over whenever they do.”

“well, whatever you think they did after they went shopping - it’s probably not it,” jimin snickers, shoulderline jolting as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“so cute,” jennie echoes your earlier words, neck craning to look at the two other passengers in the back seat as she gives you a one-eyebrow-lifted look as if to say ‘this is the guy you’re crushing on?’

at that, you shrug, unapologetically mouthing ‘he’s cute’ - in a much different and adoring sense than the first time which jennie must’ve gotten when she shakes her head, a hopeless smile on her lips as she turns to the road again.

you were on your way to the movies then.

“oh my god,” jennie squeals, eyes skimming your specifically-handpicked-by-jennie-kim attire, “you look so cute!”

“only because i agreed to be your live mannequin,” you say rolling your eyes but the curl of a smile on your lips is unstoppable.

“no - because i know what kind of style suits you,” she narrows her eyes in a ‘you know i’m right’ kind of manner, “no offense, your usual style is cute too but it’s more like an... ‘i have a crush, don’t talk to me’ kind of look, you know?”

“am i wrong though?” your eyebrows rise, mimicking her ‘you know i’m right’ look.

she raises a hand, her free one scrolling through her phone as she announces, “i don’t recommend crushing on airheaded guys but you do you sis,” then she looks up, staring at you straight in the eye with the most deadpanned expression, “but if he breaks your heart, i’ll break his leg,” it’s a full, solid moment later, just as you were about to burst out laughing, does she say, “literally.”

and it’s times like these that you fear for another person’s life that isn’t yours - well, taehyung’s life isn’t just anyone’s but - as she turns back to her phone ever so casually.

but before you can fret any further, your phone vibrates, the words ‘chim’ flashing across your screen with a ‘get yo asses down’ and contrasting ‘ur chauffer awaits’ popping a second later.

“get your ass up. they’re here,” you end up saying, pushing your phone into the back pocket of your leather pants that jennie manages to convince you to put on for some unknown reason - that reason going along the lines of ‘kim taehyung’ and ‘jealousy’, but you’re not one to dwell on why one do things they do as you accept jennie’s grabby-motioned hands in request for assistance to be pulled up.

it turns out the shopping plan gets pushed to saturday where taehyung is basically spouting out how he’s a good judge for fashion and that he hasn’t gone to the mall since the semester started which to be fair, was only a month ago.

you’re not sure how jimin ended up tagging along - the two aren’t even the bestest buddies - but someway, somehow, he always manages to get taehyung to pick him up and drop him off whenever the taller man makes plans to go out with you and jennie.

“wow,” jimin is the first to notice, mouth taking on an ‘o’ shape he basically ogles in plain daylight.

“what do you think?” jennie comes up behind you, chin resting on your shoulder as she wraps her arms around your waist then she turns to taehyung who was the last to get out of the car, “doesn’t ___ look pretty, taehyung?”

at the sound of his name rolling off the tongue of the girl he’s been pining for since he laid eyes on her, his gaze lights up - but only to meet jennie’s. one look at you and he turns back to her with the most beautiful smile, “yeah, she looks great - did you help choose the top?”

“actually,” the girl begins with a cheery tone - they’re walking a few steps behind you whilst you and jimin walk together. it’s been like that for as long as you remember, “i picked out the whole fit. it wasn’t easy though because...”

kim jennie walking side-by-side with kim taehyung whilst you with jimin whenever the two boys join you, be it whether to get to a class you all share, to go to the library to study or to get some lunch - has become a familiar view to your mutual friends. so much so, you’ve heard of a rumor going around that you’re a couple of best friends.

like literal couples. you with jimin and jennie with taehyung. thanks to that, no one would have suspected jennie’s relationship with professor kim nor would anyone see through the veil of friendly smiles and amicable conversations to be you pining over your best friend’s alleged boyfriend.

you’ve gotten used to hearing jennie and taehyung’s conversation fade into the background yet never really able to disregard the way taehyung laughs at something your best friend says or the sight of the two walking a few feet ahead with taehyung’s head almost always turned to jennie’s and the girl, oblivious, occasionally cranes her neck to look at him at the beginning of her sentence before directing her gaze to the front where she’s walking.

jennie dislikes taehyung less now, if only because he steers the conversation towards the areas of interest - which he seems to know a lot of. kudos to you for answering his ass-crack o’clock texts of ‘heyyy what kind of movie does jennie like?’s and ‘heyy you girls got any plans tomorrow?’s.

“you look great in those leather pants, by the way,” jimin’s voice makes you turn to the other boy, a boyish smile on his lips, “so let me guess,” his head tilts to the side as the dip between his thumb and index finger hooks itself underneath his chin, eyebrows knitted together in heavy contemplation, “are you going for a good girl gone bad kind of look,” a playful smile tugs on the corners of his lips, “or are you in a secret biker gang and have a biker meeting at 7?”

you lean closer to the man, hand covering your mouth as you whisper, “you didn’t hear this from me but we’re convoying to disney land. i heard it’s more magical during christmas.”

or so you thought your whispering skills were close to perfect but a cat with brown hair pops up from next to you, eyes glinting with excitement, “did someone say christmas?!”

so you end up early-christmas shopping just because of that one word that triggers the warm-hearted-who-ness in her. and that’s how you, taehyung and jimin gets dragged from one store to another. but where your attention gets robbed with material things like-

“oh look, a snow globe with a puppy and a snowman in it!” you shake the see through globe, watching as pseudo snowflakes rain over the unmoving pupper and olaf lookalike before you sigh, “technically the snowman isn’t alive and the doggo is alone by itself in a world where nobody else can enter - and on christmas at that . oh my god, i think i’m gonna cry.”

- but jennie’s interest lies within the holiday-themed clothes. sweaters. costumers. lingerie. you name it and jennie kim tries it on.

“___ - pssst, hey,” there she goes, hiss-whispering your name as if you’re not right in front of the curtain she’s poking her head through, eyes darting around for the two boys who, last you saw, were doing the best to look interested in reindeers and candy printed sweaters.

“what, girl, what?” you whisper back, trying to peek through the gap of the curtain over her head as if you’ve never entered a changing room together.

and as if reading your mind, her bare arm that’s supposed to be wrapped with the floral cotton material of her sleeve - shoots out, hand wrapping around your wrist.

a “wha- ah-!” probably echoed off the walls and turned some heads but you’re no longer in the position to check as you find your back pressed against the wall of the cubicle and red and white lace-wearing jennie posing for you.

“so?” she beams.

“those are so cute, oh my god,” you end up his-whispering whilst trying to keep your voice low, “where did you get them? i only ever saw you checking out - and you have got to admit this - ugly sweaters!”

“girl, the lingerie section is just next to the sweaters,” her eyes seem to disappear behind her crescents as she crinkles her nose, “no but for real, you think i was gonna buy them? i just needed the boys to go away. and. they. finally. did,” she rolls her eyes, “it took awhile but kim taehyung is so persistent.”

“that’s why he’s so... cute,” you hum, eyes shutting close as the picture of the aforementioned man flashes behind your eyes. he’s looking at you with those dark eyes and he’s smiling at you with that magnetic-

“gross! get your ass out of the gutter,” a squeal hits the air as your eyes flutter open to the sight of your best friend’s contorted faces as if-

“um, girl,” you tilt your head just the slightest bit, hand on your hip while your other hand raises in a ‘hold up’ manner, “out of the two of us, you’re the one that’s gotta stop being silly and start wrapping professor kim’s willy.”

a stick of tongue out is all you’ve got as a response before she turns to her phone that’s vibrating at an alarming rate.

that’s when you feign almost-vomit, “did you - ulgh - sent him a - ulgh - nude?”

in any ordinary circumstance, she would have made faces to mimic a much ridiculous series of vomiting in response to your fake almost-vomits but when her smile tugs downwards in a disheartened pout, you practically drop all the ugly sweaters you picked out just for the sake of getting into the christmas spirit and rush over to the girl - which is only one and a half feet away.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you coo as she starts blinking back tears.

“i knew it,” she huffs out a puff of air, hand fanning at her waterline, “i fucking knew it.”

in between the ‘you’re okay’s and ‘everything’s going to be okay’s on your part and jennie’s increasingly growing sobs, you manage to make out the words she blurts out. something along the lines of ‘not spending as much time as we used to’ and ‘because i’m ugly as fuck’. so you hold her tighter, fingers brushing out the potentially forming knots in her hair each time it gets into her tear stained face and gets aggressively pushed out of said face with the back of the hand.

it’s been going on since the start of the third year - the ‘i can’t make it tonight’s and ‘sorry, i’m going to have to rain check’s.

you’ve been a silent spectator of how your best friend’s face lights up whenever she talks about her secret affair with the youngest professor in the business faculty, how he lives up to her private swooning with the smallest ‘miss kim, how was your day’s when he met her in the hallway, ever so casually greeting one of his supposed students like any professor would and treats her to fine-dinings and became the reason why forehead kisses are her favorite kind of kiss now.

he never really tried to hide his fondness for her even at the faculty and though you knew your best friend could get anyone she wanted, you were dubious of whether that anyone actually deserved such a loving, beautiful person. nonetheless, kim namjoon seems to be the exact person who does.

“hey, look at me,” you implore, sitting cross-legged on the floor whilst your knees touch and your fingers twine together in a fingers hug, or so jennie coined the term in your first year, “you’re so beautiful.”

“you don’t mean that,” she mumbles out.

“girl, if i were to be born again and were allowed to choose how i’m going to look - i want your eyes, they like, pull people in - not gonna lie, i started talking to you because you were intimidating but also really alluring. does that make sense?” you hold up a hand when she begins to giggle lightly, head shaking in show of her disagreement.

“but when i did get to know you, you’re the sweetest, squishiest,” a protest falls from her lips as she clasps a palm over the spot on her arm that you just pinched, “person alive. and oh!” you pinch her cheeks next, chuckling at how she crinkles her nose and like the feline she’s always been associated with, “and i want your cute chubs cheeks! and your adorable nose, and your lips,” you pause for the longest moment before retracting, “okay maybe i’d want my lips but your lips are juicy too!”

she makes a sound at the back of her throat, eyes of dried tears rolling, “please, i barely have any lips.”

“i mean, they’re still kissable,” you shoot her a suggestive look, “and i know out of the two of us, one would kiss you if she’s a little bit more fruity.”

“okay, maybe you think i’m kinda pretty,” she gives in.

but that’s not enough for you,“bih, you’re a literal goddess,”

“i’m not but anyway beauty is subjective so maybe namjoon’s perspective’s changed.”

“nope - nu-uh, we can cry and just... let ourselves feel the emotion that’s been bottling up and burst at one single message but what we’re not gonna do is mope around, being sad all day because of our presumptions that someone else thinks we’re not good enough or pretty enough. because you are and i would die for you.”

she hiccups, “i don’t know if i would die for you but i’d sacrifice my first born for you.”

“ew,” you feel your nose crinkling, “no, you’re not gonna trap me with a kid - that’s a trap right there and i’m not falling for it.”

jennie ends up laughing too loudly that one of the store attendants end up kicking you out. jimin and taehyung followed suit a second later, acting like they didn’t know you two but walking towards you anyway. you’re not sure if they noticed jennie’s swollen eyes but neither mentioned anything about it. instead, taehyung suggests- “since we’re already out, you guys wanna go to chanyeol’s party?”

so you end up going to the party. the apartment’s too cramped for your liking but jennie’s found some mutual friends of yours that she’s dancing and laughing with. and maybe that’s why you haven’t bolted right out of the door the moment you stepped in.

jimin found some of his own friends. they’re probably not from the faculty since you don’t remember seeing them around and taehyung-

you’re not quite sure why taehyung is following you around like a lost puppy and trying to make small talks with you. internally, your heart’s doing flips but your head’s been giving out one of those obnoxiously loud sirens with lights as red as the cup you’re holding.

“...and you know, it’s pretty cool how they managed to attract foreign investors within six months of starting up their business,” taehyung is saying, the awkward shrug and eyes glued to the ground telling you that he’s not so into whatever he’s saying either.

“yeah, like, they definitely got lucky or something,” you nod in agreement.

funny how the blare of the music is barely allowing you to have a proper conversation but all you hear is deafening silence as you stand five feet apart - the kind of distance that screams acquaintances but less than friends and most definitely not lovers.

but then he stands on his two feet instead of leaning his weight on just one - and he looks at you right in the eye for the first time that night. and your stupid heart goes fluttering like the petals in a field.

“hey, i don’t wanna be a nosy or anything but,” he pauses for the briefest second, eyes slanting to somewhere on the dance floor where you think you last saw jennie and then he refocuses back to you. but you already know where his mind and soul remains, “what happened today? like, jennie’s acting off, like something’s bothering her and she’s kinda drinking more than she should and it kinda feels like she doesn’t want me around.”

it takes a moment to ponder on how much you should say before your words become affirmation and affirmation will probably lead to more assumptions and - “well, you should ask her.”

“uh, i- she doesn’t- i don’t know how - i don’t wanna annoy her, you know what i mean? and since you’re best friends, i thought maybe you’d-” he’s scratching the back of his head when you cut him off.

“there’s your answer,” you raise the half-empty cup that’s been lying undrunken in your hands, “if you’re not gonna square up and tell her how you feel, then you, my friend,” your stomach drops at the word but you manage to land a solid pat on his arm, “are going to live the rest of your live like this - wondering what the hell is going on because you’re really not sure where you stand. and i get it, confessing to someone is terrifying and depending on jennie’s answer, you might or might not be able to talk to her ever again but it’s better to get it out there. feelings are like farts, you know?” the way his brows come together in a confused what-the-hell moment, is adorable, “hold it in and you’ll feel like something’s not right and it is never going to be until you get all of it out of your system.” and with a nod and a tight-lipped smile, you leave him with a “good luck,” before wandering over to the dance floor, not sure where you’re going because jennie, lisa chaeyoung and jisoo’s not where you thought they were and the only less crowded but still suffocating part of the apartment is the kitchen where you don’t want to risk going back and seeing taehyung there, unmoving in the spot where you left him.

amid all of it, you almost get your shoulder dislocated before a hand shoots out and pulls you back on your two feet whilst you raise your cup higher in hopes to save its contents from spilling.

the man that caught you looks between you and your raised cup for two solid seconds before a grin tugs on his face and he clicks his own cup to yours, “cheers.”

“aha, yeah,” you laugh as you feel his grip on your arm loosening and you pull it back to your side like a robot, taking a sip of your nicely saved drink.

“thanks for not letting me fall,” you say a moment later, after thanking whatever deity is out there that allows you to get your first drink into the right pipe without feeling the need to cough out loud.

“no problem,” even in the poor lighting, you can easily catch the sight of pearly whites lined up perfectly amid an alluring smile, that is, before a pair of brows knit together in what seem like an unresolvable conundrum, “hey, you don’t happen to...” he pauses for the longest moment, eyes slanting to scan the crowd and making you do the same until he commands your attention back with his next words, lips curling back into the breathtakingly attractive smile as words tumble past them, “...see two pretty best friends in here, do you?”

and that’s when your interest, wherever it is, plunges straight down to the ground and into the ether, “oh,” your vision shakes as you nod repeatedly before forcing out a dry “ha ha” which isn’t meant to disguise your displeasure at all - if anything, a wave of satisfaction crashes over you when his smile falters, “yeah, that - that’s really funny,” you say plainly, smile still plastered on your face.

“o-kay,” he drags out the word for half a second, teeth clenched together in growing panic as all traces of humor fade away, “...joke too old?”

“well, let’s see,” you feel your index finger tapping your chin as you throw your gaze up to the ceiling, “i get it, tell the ugly best friend she’s ugly but in a joking way,” you shrug, “you don’t need to rub it in my face cause i know and yes it’s getting old.”

it takes a whole solid moment of blaring music and non-caring half-way-drunken college students continuing to grind against one another and this insanely attractive stranger staring at you with jaws on the ground, for you to wave a dismissive hand.

“you know what? don’t worry, jennie’s not here, thankfully or she would’ve blo-” air fills your throat and cuts you off when he frowns, “who?”, to which you raise your eyebrows, “je-” you almost choked, “jennie?”

he shakes his head the second time, bottom lip jutting out in an additional- “nope” gesture as he continues with “never heard of her,” after your “jennie... kim?”

so you go one, “kinda cute height, long hair, brunette-” he shrugs, “nope- doesn’t ring a bell,” in the middle of your, “-fierce cat-like eyes but adorable as heck personality?”

in the end he wins with a final word of, “no - nope,” after a whole solid moment of your silenced disbelieve and him drawing his pondering session to a close.

“oh,” escapes your lips before you can even register, “so - it was- like-”

“yeap,” he nods, “it was-”

“a joke?”

“a joke.”

you both announce at the same time. the tones may differ but the essence is there, leaving one to stare at the ground in shame for having snapped at a complete stranger and the other staring with unapologetic eyes.

“i’m sorry,” you finally manage to utter, shoulderline falling with your walls of pride, “i thought it was one of those micro aggressive jokes people throw around just because they can’t straight out tell someone they’re ugly-”

but the words seem to enter through one ear and go out the other when his brows begin to knit together for the nth time of the night - and in a matter of less than thirty minutes at that - when he declares before you get to properly end your sentence, “you’re pretty as hell. why did you think i’d randomly try to crack a joke to a stranger and risk pissing pants off on the off chance she took it badly... which you did. i’m sorry for pushing the wrong button.”

“oh,” but just like him, your brain short-circuits and you seem to only truly hear the first part of what he’s saying as just like any girl - you curse yourself as you - shy away from his gaze, hand going up to tuck your hair behind your ear before you slowly peek up through your lashes, “thanks,” you blink once, shrugging, “and it’s fine i get that joke a lot - i don’t usually care, i don’t know what got into me tonight.”

but before he manages to say anything, the loudspeaker starts reverberating with the sound of someone clearing their throat and a “how’s everyone doing?” and a dismissive “alright, alright you might be wondering ‘who the eff is this guy’ right? yea, yea, i know, but-” he stops, eyes scanning the crowd for a suspenseful effect, “-but you’re gonna wanna hear this,” to which a groan erupts from the crowd, so he quickly gets to the point “don’t panic,” most of the time, that’s exactly when you should panic, “so, the police are coming.”

his name is jeon jeongguk and he goes to your university’s rival university. his hair is actually a shade of rich deep brown that forms wavy ends and contrasts glaringly against his sharp jawline under the fluorescent lighting which also highlights his pearly whites that remind you of bunnies when his lips curl over them when he smiles.

to think that he’s doing that now while the police officer, a man in his 40′s and on the shorter side of the spectrum is ten steps from marching up to you with a disapproving gaze on his face.

his hair falls over his face in half ringlets, an excited glint in his eyes, “he’s mad cause we’re clean.”

a guy somewhere a few people away from you is sobbing increasingly loudly with every step the officer takes before he comes to a stop in front of you, eyes skimming each faces one by one until he stops on you.

“you,” he announces before sighing deeply, “you look like a kid who wouldn’t cause trouble, why are you here?”

“uh,” the chain around your wrist feels cold but jeongguk’s pinky that’s touching yours as your thighs brush together - is warm, “i...” you pause, in search for words before settling with a disappointing confession “i don’t know,”

the officer echoes your statement with a critical emphasize on the ‘don’t’.

and because of that, you blink once, “in fact, does anyone know what they’re doing at all? if you think about it we’re just astronomical particles in this vast universe which is called the milky way,” you pause, if only squint at his sparse mustache, “why is it even called milky way? like, there’s absolutely no scientific evidence that milk exists in outer space or do you reckon the guys that named it just feels like drinking some milk while they were-”

by the end of it, a few snickers have escaped from the people you and jeongguk were caught with, the aforementioned man, having turned his head the other way as his shoulders jolt silently and it’s only then does the officer’s increasing confused expression contorts into that of a maddened bore, “keep hanging out with him and you’re gonna find yourself behind bars.”

“that hurts my feelings, detective yoo,” jeongguk confesses, forehead creasing as his uncuffed hand holds the spot on his chest where his heart should be.

the man finally shakes his head, motioning to a younger officer who looks just about your age to start unlocking everyone’s cuffs - there were a few other people you’ve never seen before dragged out of the vicinity and to the station. he speaks a moment later, “you kids are lucky because none of you are associated with the ones down the hallway - we were initially going for them. busted their asses and found over a hundred kilograms of cocaine.”

once your cuffs are off and you get your phone back, you’re fast-scrolling through the messages on the notification window before swiping up and searching for jennie’s contact. it turns out she, taehyung and jimin guessed you were one of the few who didn’t make it and waited for you near the building where the party was busted.

“oh my god,” jennie is the first to dash into your arms as if she hadn’t seen you since forever, “i’m so sorry i left you!”

“well to be fair, i left you,” you mumble, your arms banded around her waist while hers around your neck.

and just when you thought the melodrama would end when she pulls away, you find yourself staring at sparkly-eyed jennie and the most heartbreaking downturned lips, “i will never,” she pauses, “ever let you out of my sight.”

you’re exactly against that idea - after all, you’ve made plans to buy a beach house and move in together in your olden days once you’ve poiso- burried your husbands who died of a totally natural cause.

it’s only after breaking apart from a second hug, do you realize the man standing not-so-awkwardly five feet away.

“don’t mind me,” jeongguk holds up his hands, “i don’t watch much drama but i might after all this.”

“jeongguk,” you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face at his joke, “this is jennie,” then you turn to the girl who still has her arm around your waist, and you her, “jennie, jeongguk.”

“have i seen you before?” her cat-like eyes narrows just the slightest bit, as though if she tried hard enough, she’d see the pieces of moving memories that’ll somehow point out where she claims to have met him - but you don’t doubt it if they have, jennie gets invited to a lot of parties and hookups.

you should’ve known when jeongguk’s eyes sweep over you with a playful glint in them as he begins, “that’s funny because ____ here-” that from this point forward, that you shouldn’t have put your foot forward and prance at him like a predator with a secret, hand clasped against a surprisingly hard chest before your brain can register what you’re doing.

and when it does, you’re left to awkwardly pat his chest in what you hope to be friendly gesture whilst you force out a laugh, “that- that was really funny jeongguk,” you turn to jennie who, having known you all your life easily catches onto your out-of-character laugh but says nothing, so you point at the guy you’re basically and is still groping - to which you’ve finally tear your hand off his body, “he’s a funny guy.”

“and who exactly is this funny guy?” taehyung comes up on your left - you think you catch sight of his sleek bmw parked on the other side of the street where he must’ve strutted up from in his beige jacket with his hands buried in its pockets.

“just...” you trail off before your brain completely fries and you blurt out, “some guy.”

and that’s when jeongguk decides to call you out, “some guy? i helped you through a life lesson.”

you attribute the alcohol in your system that’s slowing down the neurons and disables you from thinking before you act when you roll your eyes, “in case you didn’t realize, you were in there laughing your ass off when i had to have my own back while that officer looked like he was a word away from dragging me to the police station for talking back to a law enforcement.”

“you talked back to an officer?” jennie chirps, her jaw falling to the ground as her cat eyes widen in excitement and astonishment.

“she did,” jeongguk nods at the girl, a displaced proud smile on his lips before he looks back to you, “brought out the boomer in him too.”

“you pissed off an officer?” this time, it’s jimin who pops up from behind taehyung, before casually nodding to jeongguk with a “hey man.”

“i mean, it was probably ___’s sheer guts and rebellious streak alone that helped free us,” jeongguk goes on, eyes glinting with amusement in the briefest moment they slant to meet yours but they’re gone too soon as he redirects your attention to jimin and jennie’s overpouring questions.

and because jennie wanted to hear more about how jeongguk embellished what went down, taehyung ends up agreeing to give the stranger a ride as you get squished between two men with jennie constantly pulling on the strap of the seatbelt to look over to the backseat, her mouth constantly dropping with every word jeongguk utters like he’s some well-known storyteller.

by the time the car rolls to a stop in front of his apartment building, jennie’s shooting you approving, borderline provocative looks your way - you don’t doubt that if she had any power in her hand to put both you and jeongguk in the same room, lock the door and swallow the key, she would in a heartbeat.

“hey,” jeongguk leans over the doorframe, “can i talk to you for a sec?” it’s the way he tilts his head to the side on a 35 degree angle, paired with that dangerous smile he’s been shooting you in the briefest span of moments jennie’s head is turned to the road and jimin’s gave is thrown outside of the window and taehyung isn’t stealing glances from the rear-view mirror - that makes you want to shake your head in rejection to his request and prance out of the car like a predator in heat at the same time.

but instead, you calmly slide over to the side now vacant side and slip out of the car, closing the door behind you so no ears can eavesdrop.

the scent of his cologne wafts stronger into your senses now that you have no police officers to be cautious of nor any embellished stories to correct.

that, or maybe it’s the way he’s got you trapped against the car door and his body, right arm placed perfectly on the roof of the car, next to your head.

“bout time you give me your @, no?” the corner of his lips tilts higher into a cocky smirk.

“um, yea,” you begin, “i think it’s better if we leave into the night like strangers with stories, you know? and if we’re meant to find each other, we will,” you swear on your grandmother’s grave that you will never go to any parties anymore, “makes a good plot for a drama,” eyes going wide and mouth taking on an ‘o’ shape, you continue, “didn’t you say you were gonna start watching those?”

his shoulderline shakes as he chuckles, head dropped it tilts up, eyes capturing yours, “i’m not falling for that,” his announcement is plain and simple and yet you’re forced to put twice the effort in your smile as to not let it falter, “after getting my chest groped and caressed, i deserve at least-”

“it was a friendly pat, mind you,” you correct, smile still glued to your face before rolling your eyes, “but snapchat is as far as i’m willing to go.”

“works for me,” the screen of his phone flashes with a dark mode keypad splayed over it - you’re not sure how he unlocked it without taking those glinted eyes off you but he did. so you swipe the phone off his hand and send yourself a request through his account.

“i’m gonna open your snap and leave you on read!” you announce, and he laughs, “alright, bet!”

and with that, he waves at you using the same phone he told you to put your number in, taking a few steps backward, allowing you room to breathe properly again before he whirls on his heels and walks through the glass double doors.

you don’t wait any longer than you have to, shivering from the cold night air when you slip into the car.

“did you give him your number?!” jennie practically screams.

“no but i gave my snapchat only because he looked like he wouldn’t sleep a wink at night if i didn’t,” you shrug.

and that’s how kim jennie gets it into her head that you’re going to get your first-boyfriend-cherry popped. or so she likes to believe.

but that’s the least of your concern for the greater one comes in a devil with black jeans and matching plain t-shirt and timberlands and a lit up screen at exactly three something in the am, right after you’re done with a hot shower and in a middle of towel drying your hair and putting on your night routine skincare.

you open the text revealing a night view of a cityscape from a window which room is surrounded by darkness and a transparent horizontal strip with a ‘❄️ ’ in the middle from a goldenjks.

so you snap a picture of your skincare products next to a mirror with you and a towel on your head, face blocked by your hand that’s holding your phone, choosing to send ‘🍜’.

and so it goes, the snap war that erupts between you and user goldenjks throughout the night which, after you’d gotten into bed with the lights off, basically includes snaps of your darkened room and his more superior window view.

before long, you started texting on snapchat about how the police officer seems to know him and how-

goldenjks

u were p chill for someone who got arrested for the 1st time

you’re giggling in the darkness at 5:23 am.

you

cs ik i didn’t do anything wrong

duh

and he mentions something about a sobbing kid that was made to wait with you and nobody really did anything to comfort him.

goldenjks

that coulda been u if i wasn’t there probably

you roll your eyes but you can feel your muscles becoming sore from the way your lips are stretching from ear to ear.

then it starts with how taehyung didn’t saying anything throughout the ride up until the car rolled to a stop in front of jeongguk’s place.

goldenjks

r u guys using him for his car???

cs same

i would 2

you

wtf

we’re not 😭😭

and without much thought, you end up spilling a not-so-secret but not-so-well-known truth.

you

welp

he’s using me to get close to jennie so

ig i should use him for his car

oof

goldenjks

ooof

so let me guess

u can’t say no to him cs u have the biggest crush on him

“what the hell?” you mumble to yourself, smile pulled down into a frown, but before you can type out a reply, two more pop up on his side.

goldenjks

and jimin head over heels for u

you

🧢 🧢 🧢

u funny 😂😂😂

goldenjks

fr fr tho 😔😔😔

i would b too

all of a sudden, a boy with the softest blonde hair and crescent eye smiles floods your throughts. you and jimin might have been casual friends for the longest time and only until recently started hanging out together - and he may or may not hold confidential information about the littlest details of the lack of smile on your face and the blank snaps in your stories whenever you’re down.

but to say he’s reacting such way because he’s into you would be a total scam.

so you shake your head, laughing out loud, “nah can’t be.”

you

alright imma 😴😴😴

to which jeongguk tests back a gnight and after one whole solid minute, a text u tmr?

you leave him on read.

“like, who does he think he is?” you huff, burying the plastic spoon into the ice cream before scooping up a chunk of neapolitan flavored goodness and directing it into your mouth, “he literally met us just last night and he’s spouting shit like he knows us for years?”

“i don’t know,” jennie humps, tongue darting out to lick the remnants of strawberry ice cream on her upper lips before she goes on with a smile that screams ‘just get together already’, “it’s kinda hot to me when guys know shits, you know what i mean?”

you’ve managed to avoid jimin and taehyung at all costs and sneak to the ice cream parlor that’s five minutes away from campus where you spilled your guts out about how you got unreasonably irritated by the long running joke, about how jeongguk’s hand wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you out of the way of the chaotic college students who were rushing to get out of the small, cramped apartment and how you stopped him from relaying your disbelief of his lack of knowledge about her.

“like, i flipped out at him because of some stupid joke,” you shrugged, hands fiddling with each other while a coat of smoke wafted over the newly scooped and paid-for ice cream.

your name rolled off her lips before she stared at you with her hands on hear heart, “i- i didn’t know you would go so far as fight a guy for me for calling me ugly,” then she laughed, “but you don’t have to. girl, we been knew i’m ugly as fuck.”

your jaw hit the ground at the word she used to describe herself before you blinked and came back to your senses and aggressive defenses, “oh my god, i’m the ugly one and you’re the literal goddess - like, i shouldn’t even be looking at you. i should be looking at your sole. you should be stepping on me - step on me! now!”

a yelp resonated into the air as you groped around for jenni’s left leg in an attempt to lift her foot to make her step on you to which you both ended up laughing hysterically after realizing that she was wearing a skirt and the way you were sitting may or may have not resulted in an array of possible outcomes.

“oh my god, do you think she saw my panties?” she meant the woman in her late 40′s who were shooting disapproving eyes at the both of you as she scrolled through her phone, seeming to be waiting for someone before placing an order.

“you just flashed a poor old woman who came to have some ice cream,” you were hunched over, hand covering your face as you stole glances her way which didn’t hold long because you ended up giggling with the girl when you caught each other’s eyes.

“you think she likes what she sees?” jennie’s brows rose suggestively and you knew what she was going to say next before the words even leave her mouth, “you think maybe i should tell her about my onlyfans?”

it was a few bursts of giggles later, that you’d finally managed to talk properly. or probably because jennie’s question brought out an unwelcomed emotion that you pushed to the back of your conscience last night and for the most part, managed to forget, “so,” her brows were wiggling like earthworms on her forehead, “did he text you?”

that was what spurred the whole confession and up to the moment where you spilled the contents of the unfairly attractive stranger’s text.

“i don’t know, he kinda went overboard,” you shrug and jennie’s hand reaches over yours, patting it once with what you assume is an understanding manner.

“sweetie, i get it,” she announces, “you feel exposed because he said the absolute truth and only the truth and now you’re projecting your embarrassment on him through disdain.”

silence follows her statement.

and staring.

on your part, that is.

“girl,” you blink once, eyebrows arched, “whatever you’re having - i want some.”

that warrants a bout of giggles from said girl before she scoops her last bite of ice cream and hook arms with you as you walk towards the trashcan to dump your empty paper bowls, “no but for real, i like jeongguk-”

“then you date him,” you announce, nodding in approval.

“i like how he brings this... this... fire out of you, you know?” she quizzes to which you shake your head in a ‘no, i don’t know’ kind of manner as she goes on, “and i already have namjoon so,” she sing songs as she starts to skip in the middle of the mall and since your arms are linked together, you end up taking larger steps to accommodate to hers before deciding that you can’t root your feet down to slow her down into a normal pace. so you join her, skipping to the exit where you wait for your uber.

“you guys made up?” the question comes out in a calm, poised manner once you’ve both slipped into the backseat of the uber - you’d like to believe you’re doing a pretty good job on trying to conceal your spiking disbelief and the need to whoop someone’s ass. that someone being a girl who just pledged an oath to choose herself first instead of some man who-

“i texted him and told him how i felt with him cancelling on our plans and when i didn’t get any reply, i turned off my phone and got into bed because i’m not gonna mope over someone who won’t appreciate me,” at that, you give her an approving nod, “but then he came knocking on my door at like 5 in the morning in yesterday’s suit because apparently he has a deadline to meet and he’s been bending over backward trying to finish it on time and he brought his laptop with him too and managed to submit on time after explaining everything. he said he tried calling multiple times but obviously it went to voice mail so... yeah we made up.”

“that’s...” you trail off, only to stare at your friend’s beaming face like she’s just had one of the best facials on earth, “wow, i... i don’t know what to say now that we know he’s not trash.”

“i know,” you feel her pat the back of your hand sympathetically, “and that’s what a man is,” and when she looks at you with eyes that have one goal in her mind, you know not to start listening because the facts are going to bruise your pride and hit the nail on the head more times than you’d-

“liking a boy has more downs than ups but i’m not too worried because you’re a self-loving bitch and i love that for you but kim taehyung is not it,” she says all that with a straight face.

“yeah,” you mumble, thumbs fiddling together as you turn your attention to them as if it’s the most magnifying thing in the world to find out that identical parts of your body could move on their own with just a thought.

“okay, but i swear, he’s so oblivious all the time-” the girl stops short of her lament, you can see her head tilting to peer at you at a slightly different angle as if to see traces of an impostor on you, “wait, what?”

“we got into a fight last night- i don’t know if it’s even a fight but you know how i go off in a tangent when i get like annoyed, right?” you steal a glance at her for half a second before going back to your thumbs, “so i kind of did that to him before the dude announced the cops were coming and we haven’t really talked to each other since then.”

before any of you could say anything else, the sound of a cough echoes in the air, warranting your attention to turn to the driver, a woman in her mid-thirties. you return her smile through the rear-view mirror, “if you don’t mind me saying this - i know you girls are smart as fuck, but you sound just as dumb as that guy - whoever he is because it’s completely normal to get mad at someone you’re crushing on and still have a crush on them but sounds to me like you’re thinking one fight is the end of the world for you.”

“sis, please, don’t encourage her,” jennie talk-whispers as she leans forward just the slightest bit and covers the side of her mouth with her hand.

“well, we’re not really friends,” you begin and jennie groans - you two went over this and agreed to disagree with each other’s wildly contrasting views about crushing on crushes that could crush you but the lady hasn’t heard it so you’re not going to stop lamenting over it, “and whatever i do, it’s like i’m teetering on a tight rope because one wrong move and he probably won’t talk to me ever again and i’m not like miserably crushing on him - like, whatever we are right now - it lets me see him every day and he has the cutest smile and the prettiest fingers- i just - it’s better than not talking to each other forever, you feel?”

“um, don’t i?” she rolls her eyes, as if coming from a place filled with oblivious boys and hopeless crushes.

her name is solar and she does uber as a part time while working 9 to 5 at a firm that she claims to pay better but still not enough for her to save up for her wedding on the side and she and her fiance knew each other since high school but she’s seen him date two girls and get his heartbroken by both before he actually noticed her, the friend that’s always been there for him through his heartbreaks.

coming from someone who isn’t jennie and her alarming obsession with breaking parts of bodies of people who hurt her loved ones, solar’s view is somewhat a mixture of you and your best friend’s which still bases on one simple fact: whatever you say to and about taehyung comes bouncing back at you like a ping pong ball because-

“you have a crush on him and he has a crush on jennie,” she surmises before looking over at the aforementioned girl, “and people with crushes act like idiots- by the way how do you feel- like how do you handle the guy’s advancements and still aren’t awkward with each other because i have never seen...”

when the car rolls to a stop in the parking lot of your faculty, she finally turns to the two of you, her bleached blonde hair framing her face in waves as the silence - on you and jennie’s part as you both share glances at the indicative joke opening - hangs in the air with a sort of tension you can feel.

might even bite back like you did with jeongguk but you’re more in control now.

“...two pretty best friends who are still best friends when there’s a guy that comes between them.”

“oh thank god,” jennie sighs, laughing and you’re nodding in agreement, “thanks for not-” and your best friend echoes, “yeah,” before you can even finish your sentence, “-saying that cliche joke or like for giving your own twist to it,” waving a dismissive hand, you address her initial worries, “and taehyung doesn’t-”

“he doesn’t-” jennie chimes in.

“-come between us.”

you both say at the same time.

“oh my god, that’s great, you know my best friend tried sleeping with my fiance behind my back once,” solar crinkles her nose, “wasn’t a good experience but anywho, i’m so glad to see two girls having each other’s back like you guys. makes me want to...”

it’s a few moments later that you finally hand her the money and murmur out appreciations for being such a great uber driver along with some ‘give me five stars! thanks!’ and ‘we will! have a nice one!’

you both part ways in the hallway when you’re supposed to go for marketing and she has to go for personnel management. jimin’s already reserved a seat for you, waving at you to catch your attention which he succeeds splendidly. by the start of the second year, you’ve opted to sit together in classes you have in common, though not as close as the front as you’d like, it’s better than sitting at the back where you can hear the buzz of flies - you mean people, talking.

“are you doing anything this friday night?” jimin asks amidst people zooming out of the class as if they don’t want to be there for longer than a minute after being dismissed.

that, or they have another class to get to on the other side of the campus.

“uh, just me or me and jennie ‘you’?” you dumbly question.

that warrants a chuckle from the boy, “you and jennie... unless you wanna come alone?”

a hum vibrates in your chest as you narrow your eyes at him, as though if you looked close enough, you can see through his skull and right into his thoughts.

but you can’t so that’s why you’re spouting out another question, “where exactly are you inviting us again?”

“so, like, you know i dance right?” he drops his gaze for the briefest moment before coming back up to lock it with yours, “it’s very lowkey - just something i do for fun, but we kind of have a dance off with other teams every month and this month’s round is this friday night so i was wondering if you wanna come?” then he quickly adds, “with jennie, of course.”

to be frank your weekends are as boring and dull as it gets - the party-busted incident was a rare exception - but you and jennie are quite content with it. you start having more to do and places to venture out to when taehyung and subsequently jimin join your group of two and made it a group of four but for the most part, if you’re not going anywhere, your weekend is usually spent with watching movies and burying yourself in work for the rest of it.

“bet,” your reply might have come a tad bit delayed judging from how his brows rise to the ceiling and his eyes go round as he chirps, “really?”

“yeah, just text me or jennie the location the day before,” you request as you both walk down the hallway.

“great- yeah, i’ll... i’ll text you the place,” jimin beams even as he bumps into someone behind him, turning around to lower his head and mumble out an oh sorry before turning back to you, “i got another class but i’ll text you- on thursday - not today, of course.”

and you wave back, shouting out an ‘okay bye!’

then he’s gone like the wind.

the days pass by like a breeze.

kim taehyung caught you in the middle of waiting for jennie’s class to end whilst also finishing up some work in the library. he knew your favorite spot and he knew where you’d usually be - but you had an inkling that you weren’t exactly the reason why he memorized these little things. he waved at you in greeting and you waved back. you would’ve pretended he didn’t exist after that and go back to your laptop if he didn’t hold up his phone screen with blank white space and blue and grey bubbles on the side.

so of course you picked up your phone, noticing that there were already three wiggling dots when you tapped on his name.

kth: hey

you met his gaze once, as if to affirm that he meant to send it. when he shota half, almost pleading smile, you typed out a reply.

you: hey what’s good

kth: nothing

kth: just waiting for a friend

seeing as there was not really a conversation going on where jennie wasn’t involved and how the boy’s blatant dismissal in addressing the big, giant elephant in the room, taehyung must’ve had seen the way your lips pursed into an irritated pout before his phone vibrated.

you: cool

and then you were back to your laptop, typing sentences out and backspacing because of its incoherent nature, or lack of quality or whatever reason that stopped you from doing your job before kim taehyung’s arrival.

then he started whispering “hey, uh, ____,” from across the table. upper body leaned to the front as if it’d help enunciate his words.

you took your sweet time taking out your airpods from each individual ear and placing them down next to your mac before finally arching a brow at the boy, “what?”

“hey,” he repeated, this time with a frozen mid-wave, “hi, how you doing?”

“great thanks,” there was a minimal effort on your part to disguise your ‘what even?’ expression on your face as you picked up your right airpod first - only to be stopped by the boy’s-

“i’m sorry.”

it’s clean and short but his face made up for conveying his genuinity.

“why are you saying sorry?” it didn’t mean you were going to let him off the hook easy.

“well, because...” he trailed off for the briefest moment but the unconcealable bop of his adam’s apple isn’t really helping him appear any more convincing, “i was being pushy...” he looked to you for an indication of him being on the right track to which you were not sure if he did get any but he still went on with his wits and his will - it took you everything not to gush over how cute he looks with his panic-blinking and pretty lips moving as if to say something but no words coming out, “...and i was generally being an annoying little shit.”

“and?” you pressed on, blinking once as if to paint a look of unbotheredness.

“...and...” he echoes, eyes darting from your phone to somewhere behind you and then something next to it but only silence fills the space between you and him.

“alright, i’m gonna be real with you,” leaning back, you cross your arms over your chest, “i know you talk to me when you need something and i don’t really care - well i do, but i just bottle it up until it one day burst out, you know what i’m saying? so yea, if you’re wondering if that night was me blowing up on you, it kinda was and it wasn’t because you were making small talks with me just to poke into my best friend’s business - well, it kinda is but like not in that way, you follow? what i mean is.. don’t let me catch you sneaking behind jennie’s back asking personal shits about her that you don’t think she’s going to disclose even if you straight up ask her - that’s sus, taehyung.”

by the end of it, he was staring at you like you had two horns and a tail swaying around behind you. but you concur, that may or may have not been your inner self coming to light - just a hypocrite criticizing someone for doing the things she would have done, if she wasn’t already doing it, if she was in his shoes.

and to be quite frank, taehyung’s shoe size is probably a few inches bigger than yours but if they had laces, you would’ve been able to put them on and tied them up to accommodate your ego.

so taehyung didn’t - couldn’t say anything in response to your second time going off into a tangent and because of what he did, at that. he stopped texting you altogether and only talked to jennie whenever you weren’t around and left before you got to them if he saw you coming his way - jennie’s actually.

either way, jennie wasn’t as elated as you thought she’d be once you told her that you called taehyung out on his bullshit.

“um, i’ve always wanted to tell him about me and namjoon so he’d give up - you were the one who didn’t let me,” she might or might not have said something along the lines of you making her “lead him on all because you wanted to an eye candy to look at every day.”

“what do you mean?” your forehead was creasing a thousand folds.

“not that i’m pointing fingers,” she went on, eyes glued to the pairs of indoor shoes in the corner of the room and anywhere but your eyes, “but i’m like, cool with or without him around but you sort of said ‘okay, then it’s cool if he comes with us right?’ and you were making puppy eyes and i couldn’t no to that-”

and so you were laughing dryly, “aha- wha- what so it’s my fault that he’s being a total wuss and won’t square up?”

“i didn’t say that,” jennie’s reply came a heartbeat later which meant yes, it was.

so now you’re not talking to your best friend and neither are you talking to the boy who’s crushing on her. which leaves you a lot of free time to finish up your work in time to hop into a bullet train and then an uber and get to the building where jimin’s dance off is held.

you’re in the middle of texting the boy a ‘sorry, might b late. i didn’t know there’d be a line 😭’ when a figure comes up to you from the corner of your eye.

fitted in black jeans and matching tucked in t that shows off his slender waist and beanie, the only thing that isn’t black is probably his white-yellow timberlands, “so you weren’t kidding when you said you were gonna leave me on read.”

“you know, it’s so cute that you think you’re worth the reply at all,” you blink, eyes going wide and jaw hanging loose from shock, “this... this... confidence - where do you get it? seriously, tell me because i have never seen someone with such immaculate self-absorbance.”

jeongguk’s head moves as he nods in admittance, hands buried in his pocket before he looks up at you. that familiar glint in his eyes is telling you that whatever he has up his sleeve, you’re not going to be able to refuse.

“you know, eugene over there and i are homies,” he nods towards the burly tall man at the front who’s mainly the reason there’s a line in the first place - one that no one seems to dare cut, “i could get you in faster.”

“oh my god, look what that self-absorbance’s got you believing,” you put one, sympathetic hand on his shoulder as your free hand goes to cover the spot on your chest where your heart is, “i’m so happy for you,” you glance over to the not-declining-anytime-soon line behind you, “but sometimes, even confidence can’t get you into invites-only events.”

to any other person, it must’ve looked like you and jeongguk are friends - friendly acquaintances hitting best buddies at the very least. but something in the way his grin curling sweetly on his lips and the curve of the half ringlet of his hair touching the corners of his onyx eyes, makes your toes curl inwardly and your stomach churn with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

and because of that, you know there won’t be any sort of friendship forming between you and jeongguk.

he leaves you with an amused smirk and a “see you inside,” and marches up to eugene, the two sharing an uncomplicated handshake before the man steps to the side and lets him in.

well.

it takes you another ten minutes of standing in line and assuring jimin that he doesn’t need to rush out and risk having his team go without him when their turn comes. which according to jimin, ‘isn’t anytime soon - they let the bigger teams go first’.

but then jimin knowing jimin, that probably meant soon enough.

when you’re finally on the front of the line, crumpled up ticket in hand, eugene gives you a once over and nods at his not-as-burly-but-just-as-scary-looking friend.

“follow me,” and with that, she struts in through the door but instead of going down the hallway like the ones before you did before they disappear from eyesight in the corner, she takes a sharp turn to the right until she stops in front of an elevator.

her deep violet hair brushes against her cheekbones as she nods at the empty box with mirrors all around.

yeesh, guess everyone expresses themselves with their bodies here.

the numbers constantly change from ground level to 1 to 2 and finally stops at the 3rd floor where the blare of the music seems to come from. and that’s when you see the black haired boy who has his forearms leaned against the railing as he grins at something on the bottom floor where the shouts and cheers seem to erupt from. but before you can make a sharp 180 to go back down where jimin said you’d only need to follow the hallway and take the turn around the corner like the people before you did, jeongguk looks up as if sensing the heat of your gaze drilling holes inside his head. with one hand raised, he beckons you over.

“your majesty,” you drop into a bow once you reach him, “this humble servant thanks you for bringing her here but,” pointing your thumb over your shoulder at the hallway you just came from you continue, “i think i’m on the wrong floor because all i can see here is flocks of hair - an oh, shiny scalp from that guy - arms flailing around. takes away the magic of dance, you feel?”

“so you’re here for jimin.” it doesn’t sound like a question - so it must not be. a ponderous hum vibrate from his chest as you shoot him an arched brow whilst your insides burst like fireworks at the way his darkened eyes traces down your body and back up after he’s done with what seems to be a scout’s assessment.

“no leather pants and no best friend or heartbreak boy hovering around like a lost puppy - let me guess, he did something that made you mad, the best friend backed him up and now you’re mad at both of them?” he raises his own brow, lips curling into an assured smirk, “oh and jimin here’s probably taking a neutral stance because it ‘doesn’t concern’ him.”

you don’t know if you want to run away or grab the neck of his shirt and smack your lips on his.

so you settle with handguns pointed in his face, “alright, catch you never.”

but before you can even take a step to where you came from, jeongguk’s laying out his card on the table, “you sure bout that? it’s bulleproof boys’ turn - it’s jimin’s teams name, in case you’re wondering and judging by who they’re going against, it might be their first and last performance for the night.”

“i knew that,” respectfully, you had no idea that the teams have specific names besides the alphabetical letters given to them upon registration.

jimin’s only mentioned dance match once and that he’s in team c that’ll go against team d.

so you stick around, watching from all the way on the third floor where the lest people are gathered, cheering out names of teams that are alien to your ears which seem to be the team jimin is going against. but the fact that jimin could dance with such precision and grace is magnifying enough. he’s mostly posed on either sides of the formation, switching from the front left to the furthest back line on the right side as the beat drops.

jimin’s name pours out of your mouth in cheers but it’s swallowed by the other cheers before it can even reach him. in the end, jimin’s team loses. they still go up to their opponent and share handshakes and sidehugs before moving away from the dance floor.

he’s not smiling nor is he frowning as he stands in the crowd after the prelims but his lips curl and eyes disappear into crescents when he sees you.

“hey!” his arms open up into a hug, only to stop halfway in hesitation but by then you’re already wrapping yours around his neck with a “you were so cool!”

and just like that, the awkwardness in the air dissipates.

“i didn’t see you in the crowd.”

“so what? you thought i left?” a light smack lands on his arm, “by the way, you didn’t tell me it was this intense - i can feel the tension from all the way...” you pause for the briefest moment, “...in the audience.”

“everyone here just likes to dance so it gets competitive at some point but at the end of the day, it’s important to have fun,” he shrugs, a shy smile plastered to his face.

“either way you did great,” you bump his elbow with yours, and he shifts his weight to his left foot.

“we lost but it was a fair match the bts people were too good,” a mixture of regret and contentedness crosses his face as he nods to himself, as if admitting the difference in skills.

“let’s get a drink later, i’m buying,” you propose and jimin looks like a kid who just received his favorite candy.

well, that was the plan for the rest of the night up until the winner was announced. then a boy no older than you and jimin came up to the latter, arms slung over his shoulders, “dude, beyond the scene just asked if we wanna join them at the afterparty. can you believe it?”

“dude, you capping - don’t fucking joke with men man, i was about to shit my pants-” jimin attempts to shove the guy away half-heartedly which does nothing as his friend - teammate, cuts him off.

“i’m not fucking joking, man, behind the scenes literally asked if we wanna chill with them!”

the two boys are basically shoving each other back and forth before they start slapping each other on the face once to wake the other up. whoever this behind the scenes guys, they seem like a pretty big deal if two grown adults are fanboying this hard about them.

only after they’re sporting the faintest shade of pink on their right cheeks, do they finally realize that they weren’t squeal-whispering by themselves. he introduces himself as kai - “jimin’s best friend and mentor.”

“he likes to say that because i got into dance because of him,” jimin adds, debunking the mentor myth.

you’re about to wave the two goodbye and call it a night since it’s pretty clear that the behind the scenes guys only invited them and not their friends.

“come with us,” kai announces as the three of you walk down the back entrance where it’s less crowded and meant for the participants to use, “baekhyun can’t make it so we’ll still be five people.”

“i really should go- it’s getting late and my place is in seoul-”

and so begin your war of apologies and ‘no, you’s.

“oh shit, i forgot.” jimin’s usually almond-shaped eyes turn round and wide, “you used the subway-”

“yeah, but i can still catch the last train home-” you try to assure.

“i’ll accompany you back-”

“no, no - you should go with them-”

“no, i made you come to watch-”

and it would have gone on until morning if you and jimin were left to argue on who should do what if kai didn’t clap his hands together and put an end to the long debate, “okay, okay, break it up.”

he looks between the blonde haired best friend and then to you, “jimin came with me so i’m gonna drive him back anyway and i could drop you off too after chilling with bts - it’s nothing you’re not used to, beers and games and shits, you know? plus it’ll be like, less than 20 people there - bts never invites other groups into their circle - who knows, maybe you’ll find your true way like jimin did,” he pats the aforementioned man on his shoulder whilst jimin rolls his eyes at the way best friends who’ve heard their best friend boast about an-untruth for the umpteenth time.

and because you basically made another friend and that means you’ll have at least 2 people to hang out with if the rest turns out not to be your kind of people - so you cave in, “okay, sure, why not?”

'why not’s are subjective - or so you’d like to think.

like when you’re not particularly into americano and prefer latte but wouldn’t say no to having the first if jennie mixed up your order and bought you your not-so-favored but also not-so-hated drink.

but jennie’s known you since she shoved you off the swings at five after you outran her only to get to the swings faster because only one was vacant and the other kid was already in the other one.

so she’d know your preferred drinks.

but in the event she suddenly has amnesia or anything and got you and americano, that’s when you’ll go, “why not?”

but that and finding out that jeongguk used to be part of bts until he hurt his during practice, having to have 2 major surgeries because of it, rendering him no longer able to dance so he’s only going to the dance offs to cheer for his friends which was how he met you at the entrance and now you’re handcuffed together (and yes, again) in the middle of the forest - are two disparate things altogether.

hoseok, the most outgoing and friendliest of the bunch, suggested for the ice breaking to be in a form of 2 beer bottles and a sort of rope or chain tying people from bts and the bulletproof people together to talk for five minutes. they only have 2 pairs of cuffs so the others that lack them have to make do with bandanas and you think a seokjin got harassed into taking off his shirt and using it as him and his designated partner’s pseudo handcuff.

yours and jeongguk’s are - you’re not sure if it’s a fortunate or unfortunate thing - real ones (you’re not sure if you want to know why and how seulgi easily pulls out a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs and a normal-looking one - out of the blue).

but you’re almost sure that you’re leaning on the side of the internal argument of this - this, right here - is why not.

“why didn’t you text me back?” jeongguk is in the middle of asking as you take a big chug of the alcoholic beverage.

"oh my god,” you let a pleased smile tug at your lips as you feel the buzz of the alcohol coursing through your system, “i was just gonna talk to you about that - jennie said i was being a ghosting b because you only said facts and i got like, offended without a reason but i agree that people can be wrong sometimes and that was her time... i just...” you shrug, “i just didn’t want to text you back so i didn’t,” you look at him with a new found familiarity, “anyways, how was your week?”

by the end of it, jeongguk’s nodding and poorly suppressing his smirk.

“well, let me start first,” you begin before he can even say anything, listing down the happenings in a chronological order which may or may have not confirmed his initial assumption on why you’re here alone “...i mean, was it my fault though? between you and me, i think jennie and i need to sit down and actually talk about accountabilities first, you know? but anyway, that’s how my week went! how about you, how was your week?”

to say that your turmoil of a week is anything close to a laugh-worthy joke, would be a lie but for some reason, trickles of laughter are escaping jeongguk’s lips and into the night air as he leans back, holding his stomach. he would’ve hit the ground if you’d poke him.

“wow,” you slowly nod, “that’s... that’s very... flattering that you think my somewhat a quarter life crisis is amusing,” a grin stretches across your face but your eyes drill holes into the boy’s skull, “maybe i should just quit uni altogether. that’d be... exciting, right? just... quit uni and live a life as a comedian because look at how much i’m cracking you up right now!”

and it goes on for another minute of jeongguk’s laughter filling the air as you threaten him to stop in the guise of encouragement besides the cracking of the branches as it gets swallowed up by the fire in the barrel not too far away from where everyone’s scattered.

“god,” when he’s finally reduced to chuckles and wiping invisible tears off the corner of his eyes, you’re about halfway done with your bottle.

“and he’s back,” you announce, “welcome back. can’t say i missed you though but glad that you’re back with us.”

but before jeongguk can get a word out about his own week which you’d asked, if only to be polite, hoseok is already summoning everyone to gather around the barrel as he raises a bottle in the air to - “new groupship and friends!”

or so you think he said.

you’re not too sure because you’re too busy demanding jeongguk to - “uncuff me right now, jeon - was that too pushy? let me try again,” you pause, clearing your throat, “can you please, please, please, uncuff me so i can go back to my friends and not have to stay here a minute longer?”

“don’t act like you don’t enjoy my company,” he offers you one of his self-assured smirks before addressing your concern, “i’m trying,” he says simply, free hand patting around the pocket on the side of his jeans before groping his own ass.

“um, maybe try harder?” you suggest, smiling sweetly but it downturns into a frown not even a minute later when he declares, “i can’t find it.”

“you... can’t find it?” you echo his words.

“it’s not on me,” he states.

“well, did seulgi give it to you at all or...” you trail off only to be met by a devious smirk which doesn’t exactly help his case.

“guess you’re stuck with me,” he shrugs ever so easily.

“oh, hell nah,” and that’s when you latch onto to smirking boy’s body - on your hands at least, and since his left hand and your right hand are cuffed together, it doesn’t allow much room for your physical inspection which is how using your only free hand to get to the side of his pocket that’s farthest from you - may appear suspicious to others.

you only notice that you’re fully facing jeongguk and having your back turned to everyone else when hoseok’s voice cuts through the air, “yo hold up, hold up, hold up - this is bonfire and chill, not netflix and chill.”

your jaws hurt from hanging a bit too low as you meet each and everyone’s eyes, their giggling and laughing already telling enough of what the majority thinks - everyone except jimin, that is.

but you’re a bit too preoccupied with trying to clear the supposed air of you and jeongguk getting it on in the middle of the forest with both your friends and his around, “aha,” you force out, “i know this,” free hand waving between the chain linking your wrists and the open air which isn’t helping your case because jeongguk’s poor attempt at subduing his smirk is well, poor, “might look sus to you but it isn’t - jeongguk lost the key and if someone could help us find it, it’d-”

“oh, don’t worry, i have a spare at home,” seulgi chirps up, hand waving her illuminated phone, “i’ll text my girlfriend to bring it here.”

well, that explains the fluffy cuffs.

“sick,” jeongguk nods over to the girl to which she holds up an ‘okay’ sign and a meaningful smile to him which shouldn’t be ominous but is.

so you fix him a stare when hoseok goes to say something along the line of ‘great’ and ‘lifesaver’ to seulgi.

which the boy only asks back with a “what?”

“i have something to say but i’m not gonna so i’m just gonna keep quiet but just know that i’m watching you,” but the warning doesn’t exactly bring out the intimidating aspect that you hoped for.

“watch all you want, i’m yours for tonight,” the velvety sound of his chuckles is awfully distracting because you don’t even notice the chain clinking until his fingers interlock yours before he brings them up in the air - as if to emphasize on the technicality of his titillating claim.

the night goes on with bottles of beers scattering over the ground, faint smoke dissipating into the air as the scent of something sweet and fruity wafts around whilst the juul gets passed around.

once in a while someone’s laugh echoes between the gaps of the trees and into the night, amidst the sound of woodland creatures. you’ve downed one and a half bottle of henny whilst jeongguk doesn’t seem to have gone past even half of his first bottle. but he’s chuckling and laughing at something someone said which, for the most part, is funny or warrant a jaw-dropping, pin-drop-silence kind of reaction just like now as seulgi confesses to-

“never have i ever slept with my mom’s boyfriend at 19.”

“and that’s on mommy issues,” you hold up a beer in a ‘cheers’ manner at her whilst she mimics your action before you both tilt your head up and take a chug out of your individual beers at the same time.

“what about you?” jeongguk asks and for a moment, you forget that there are people around because jeongguk’s eyes look like someone reached up the sky and handpicked two stars each for his irises and trap them in there like a class case.

but you’d like to believe it’s the alcohol doing its rightful work in your system because you’re back on the ground with an unrelenting itch on your ankle where it’s brushing against the blades of grass.

“yea, what’s your never-have-i-ever mommy issues edition?” kai speaks up.

“nah, it’s wack,” you wave a dismissive hand but end up agreeing to spill the beans when a bout of protest spreads across your ever so faithful audience.

“okay, okay, never have i ever fucked my biological mom’s husband who isn’t my dad,” you say which earns a bout of cheers and ‘that’s messed up’s before seokjin claps his hands together.

“never have i ever...” he pauses, grinning as an added suspense before he goes on, “fucked my brother’s boyfriend.”

the game doesn’t last for long when everyone collectively agree to take the atmosphere up a notch and play strip truth or dare. but before your turn came, seulgi announces her girlfriend’s arrival concurrently with her having to leave for the night because she’s her ride home. and because you and jeongguk are both of the same mind that you’re the ones that should be following after her to get yourselves uncuffed, you do just that.

yeri is a sweetheart and matches seulgi’s playful yet reserved nature. they take the cuffs with them and seulgi waves you two goodbye with the same, meaningful smile directed to jeongguk - but if that’s not enough, the ‘good luck’ thumbs up is a screaming red button for you.

but before you can even call him out for his possible hand in convincing his dance friends to invite jimin’s and consequently you to the forest after the match - he beats you to it.

“you okay?” this time, his features are lacking the smirk.

“yea, why wouldn’t i be?” you say, hopping on the rail of the train track that’ll lead to the spot where the others are - so far, you’re doing a good job not falling to your demise.

“i don’t know,” the scraping sound of his soul kicking against the pebbly ground fills the air as he walks next to you, hands in his pocket, “you’ve been pretty quiet after that thing about your mom.”

“you think what i did was messed up?” you inquire, resisting the urge to steal a glance at him to see what kind of emotion he’s making - whether it’s contorted with disgust or whether his nose is crinkling at an attempt to appear unbothered or whether there really isn’t any judgments being passed and he’s just downcasting his eyes because he’s looking out for possible sharp objects protruding from the ground.

“everyone’s a little messed up,” his shoulderline shakes as he shrugs, “it’s the why behind it that counts.”

“nah,” your hair tickles your face as you shake your head in blatant refutation, “i didn’t have a reason.”

and just when you expect a disgusted scoff to erupt from jeongguk’s pink lips... it doesn’t.

“that works too.”

silence follows his words for the longest moment with you trying placing one foot in front of the other, pretending like teetering on that tightrope you’re stuck on with kim taehyung at the end of it, not even waiting for you but just happen to be there.

so you break the silence, “i finally found her last year - flew all the way to jeju because my biological aunt saw my the post i put up on facebook in a last ditch attempt before i hire a private investigator like my dads suggested. she set us up to meet,” the picture of a woman who’s so similar yet dissimilar to you flashes at the back of your head, a biscoff cheesecake slice lying untouched on the table and someone screaming at the top of their lungs right in front of your ears, “my biological mom didn’t know anything about it, flipped out and told me to never bother her again so i looked up where her husband worked and slept with him and sent the video to her.”

jeongguk doesn’t say anything, only nodding in your periphery before a soothing kind of silence lapses between you.

“what’s your story?” you ask a moment later.

“hm?” he glances at you, the moonlight shining over that smirk that you’ve come to miss in the course of the five minutes it went missing, skin painted a creamy white.

“if you don’t wanna tell, that’s fine too but like, you basically tore down my walls and i’m naked as hell - figuratively -” you add as soon as his eyes light up, “right now.”

but then he tries to bargain, “promise you’ll text me back and i’ll tell.”

and you try to teeter in the grey area between words and its meanings, “alright, promise... i won’t leave you on read.”

“nah, you gotta promise to text back,” his half curls sway as he shakes his head - your end of the bargain not sufficiently satisfying.

it’s a few moments after your surrendering, “you know what? keep your skeletons in your closet - i’m good,” that he finally says something.

“i used to do tracks, lucked out with a sports scholarship but by freshman year in college, realized i didn’t even like tracks and dropped out...”

jeongguk’s parents weren’t happy about it - didn’t exactly welcome him when he came back with a suitcase and a letter from his unversity claiming the outstanding balance of his first two semesters. but he wasn’t happy at home either.

so he packed his bags one more time and took the first train to seoul where he worked part time at a restaurant and occasionally at the dance off’s, before he found the beyond the scene people and subsequently found dance. that was amidst of a developer of the game he was playing approaching him through the game’s chat server and offering him a job to test out their games with the condition that he gets a degree in computer science which they paid for on the company’s scholarship fund.

and so it was obvious that jeon jeongguk, wherever he chooses to go and stop at, blooms like a wildflower that strives in any condition thrown in his face whether it be a storm, a hurricane or a sunny weather that barely allows any rain to cover the soil he’s rooted in.

and because he’s true to himself, it isn’t as unbelievable, when almost everyone - from every layer of backgrounds, flock around him like honeybees in spring - allured, magnified and bewitched by jeon jeongguk that makes him... well, him.

to say you understand him a little bit better may be an overstatement but maybe you’re less suspicious of his keen intuition and uncanny prognosis of what happened in your relationships, both with your friend and your not-so-friendly crush.

jeongguk jests that his leg “doesn’t work like it used to but-” - he’s been to places. seen people.

“so why are you obsessed with me?” you question into the night in a light hearted joke, “i mean, i can possibly see why because well, i’m... me and i’m amazing but you know, it’s not healthy to be this obsessed with people.”

his chuckles sounds like wind chimes on a spring day, "besides the fact that i was too busy being a tracks nerd for most of my life so i have zero flirting skills and decided to make all the calls that seem to irritate the one person i want to get to know? it’s because you looked like you were head over heels with the guy you were putting in place but still managed to not make it personal.”

it takes a moment for you to digest what he just said, and even then, you’re nodding in complete disagreement as you blurt out, “pretty sure some parts were personal,” and you turn to him with a smile stretched over your face, “but glad that you don’t think i’m the impostor.”

so you stop twenty steps away from where you can see the fire in the barrel and hoshi, one of the guys from bulletproof boys, standing in boxers and shouting an oath before gulping down a bottle of henny at an alarming rate.

“everyone’s a little sus now and then,” he refutes, nose crinkling as a grin spread across his moon-kissed features as he offers you his hand and you take it, hopping off your tightrope journey and onto grounding earth.

when morning comes, you wake up to the familiar but not-very-welcomed sound of cars honking from outside your window and the light piercing through your eyelids, so much so, you surrender to the start of the day. arms stretched over your head and a guttural sound vibrating within your chest as a sign of protest before your vision finally gets used to the bright sunny rays.

and that’s when you freeze. arms stretched and all.

“after all this, you can’t say no to a date with me,” jeon jeongguk is lying right next to you, in your one-person bed which you could never imagine would fit more than your need-for-maximum-space self when you sleep but there he is, in yesterday’s clothes, hugging your light pink alpaca plushie on his stomach whilst his elbow which you don’t notice before is poking into your rib.

the events of last night untangle in a web of hazed memory coming to high definition as each passing second pass by.

you and jimin live on the opposite ends of the city which made you reluctant in having kai drive you back at all, so jeongguk offered to split the uber bills with you because apparently, “oh, hey, we live in the same area!”

which later turned out you didn’t and it would’ve made more sense for him to hitch a ride with kai and jimin. but you didn’t even need to ask why he did what he did.

because by the time you and jeongguk returned, it’d been a set-in-stones assumption that you were off making out somewhere under a tree and everyone cheered you and him for it upon your return.

well, except jimin.

so you pulled jeongguk to the side once the attention was directed to hoseok whose dare was to lick the grass he was stepping on.

“is that thing about jimin liking me true because he’s been like, avoiding my eyes the whole night and now he’s acting like i don’t exist and i’m pretty concerned because his friend is my ride home,” you whispered underneath your beath.

jeongguk threw one, confirming glance at the aforementioned man before nodding casually, “he’s jealous as fuck because he thinks we did the do - cross my heart and hope to die.”

so you ended up offering jeongguk to sleep in your bed because it was already late and it felt like a waste to spend another thirty bucks to go back to a place where nobody was waiting for him anyway.

you were so beat, you’d fallen asleep as soon as jeongguk pulled your protesting self off the futon-splayed floor and held you captive in your own bed.

“you know what? i might as well,” you say, legs thrown off the bed and stretching some more before looking down at the smiling, plushie-holding, grown ass person in your bed, “now we need to figure out how to sneak you out because this is a girls-only dorm and if they found out i have a guy over, i might get expelled.”

but before you can even start brainstorming the best possible route for jeongguk to sneak out without being detected, an obnoxious rapping reverberates against your door. the look of pure horror settling in as jeongguk’s smile melts into a wide-eyed, panicked face would have been adorable if you’re not in the middle of shoving him into your “quick, in the closest!” which he needs to hunch his shoulders to become as small as possible before you can close it whilst you yelp out a “just a minute!”

by the time you manage to school a smile on your face, jennie’s is already sprinkled with a dust of red as her brows come together, judging your choice of outfit and the events that went down last night.

“hey, girl,” you drag out the first word in idle panic, body leaning against the doorframe a little too defensively, “what’s...” you can’t even find the right words as you tap your fingers against the doorframe before finally saying, “what’s good?”

but one questioning look from her and you’re stepping out of the way, left to stand at attention like a cadet in the presence of the general whilst said general struts into your room and scans it once before turning to you.

“’what’s good?’” jennie echoes and you know from the way her head does the slightest of movements according to her enunciation, “imagine seeing your best friend on some mutual friend’s snapchat story which mind you, said mutual friend isn’t anywhere close to either of you and the time in the snap says a big whooping 4:03 am while you’re here feeling bad for hurting her feelings with your words words. but does she feel bad? well, it doesn’t flipping look like she even gave any thoughts about you, did it?”

and that’s when the closet decides that it’s had enough of storing a full grown human in its belly and slowly, but surely swings the door open with thunderous creak in the midst of the calm before the storm. and lo and behold, a jeon jeongguk, still hugging your alpaca tightly, keeping his eyes closed as if it’ll make him invisible before he gradually screws one eye open to the sight of a raging but confused jennie kim and a mortified you turning to said girl.

so much for keeping skeletons in closets.

“i-i can explain.”

it turns out all it takes for jennie’s anger to subside is for her to find a boy in your room. namely the boy she’s been blatantly shipping you with even though you barely knew each other then.

“i have a wig in my room,” she suggests after you’ve exhausted all options - jeongguk can’t climb through the window and jump down from the second floor.

“well, he can but there’s no guarantee he’ll be able to leave without one of his limbs intact,” you’d added, shrugging.

he’s sitting crossed leg on your bed, alpaca in his lap and looking cute as hell as his eyes go round at the mention of a wig and five minutes prior, crossdressing. the plan is for you and jennie will walk him out once he’s all dresed up like you’re just three - well, one is kind of buffed up but still pretty - best friends who had a girls’ night and crashed in your room.

he whistles lowly, head lulling to the side as he stares at the door before turning to you with a playful smile, “i’ve always wanted to wear a skirt.”

and so it goes, jennie kim’s squealing and making a short trip to her room and returning with a bag full of wig, stretchable sweaters and lycra skirts whilst she scours through your closet for clothes that you have but don’t even remember. the oversized sweater that’s a few more inches too big for you wraps around his body tightly and the skirt is a tad bit too short for him, going down to a few inches above the knee. but the head turner is the way the curly brown wig gracefully frames his face and softens his jawline, giving an illusion of how his half-ringlet would have looked if he grew them out.

you apply the soft pink lipgloss on his already rosy lips as a joke in a guise of a final touch, heart skipping as his lips curl whilst he gazes at you the whole time you’re putting on the glimmering liquid.

“okay, i feel bad,” you confess, shoulder line falling, “i thought you’d hate the lipgloss and i was going say it’s important to make the look work if you said no but you’re not saying no and you’re looking at me like you’d trust me with your life...” a sigh rolls off your lips at the end of it.

“you feel bad?” he echoes, glossed lips looking kissable as hell - it doesn’t even matter that he’s smirking like it was part of his plan all along to manipulate your conscience into confessing your ulterior motive.

so you nod.

“good,” he states simply.

“you saying good like you’re satisfied that you managed to pick on my guilty conscience is making me feel less guilty,” you narrow your eyes, not even bothering to hide the smile creeping on your lips.

“oh my god, my ship is sailing!” jennie’s whispered squeal cuts through the air before she reverts to her deadpanned self, “okay but seriously, if you’re done sprinkling sugar cubes all over the place, i think we should get jeongguk out before miss snitchery sonyeon next door sniffs the man in jeongguk and snitch on us.”

sonyeon has been known for reporting 2 boy-sneaking activities that went on last year which would have been justified if the girls that brought the boys into their room was doing questionable things and loudly at that but the first incident was with a late enrolled newbie that just moved in and didn’t know that boys weren’t allowed inside and though the other girl did sneak her boyfriend in, it was only because he was bleeding profusely and needed first aid treatment which she stored in her room.

you’re just about a few feet away from the double doors when a familiar but disembodied voice drums in your ears.

“you three, stop right there.”

you think your heart stops working for the briefest moment as time freezes and you’re craning your head to look at jennie whose fear-stricken face mimics yours and then jeongguk whom you don’t expect to wear such ceases in his forehead.

so you do the one thing that you think of-

“run.” you whisper.

all of a sudden, the wind is in your face and a few heads turn your way - but you doubt that it has more to do with how unfairly gorgeous jeongguk looks than the fact that the ra is on your tail, her pitched demands for ‘someone stop them!’ whilst. you’re not sure if someone did try to chase after you or if the adrenaline pumping in your system is what helps you sprint faster than a cheetah but when you finally slow down, almost skidding to a stop on the grass somewhere on campus grounds instead of the dormitory area - it’s because jennie is dramatically breathing through her mouth and found herself a bench to put on an act of dying whale.

“you guys... go on... leave me be...” she croaks out in between breaths, hand reaching out to the air.

“dude, tell me if you’re gonna stop so we can stop and get caught together,” you guff, plopping down, your state no better than jennie’s while jeongguk shakes his head at the two of you.

not even a beat of sweat or heaved breathing coming from him - not to mention that-

“how are you the fastest-” you suck in a much needed breath, “-when your leg doesn’t work as good anymore?”

“yea, didn’t say i can’t run,” he grins.

“jen, let’s go,” you say, tapping the dying whale on her shoulder as she starts wailing words of saddened goodbyes.

“forsake me! save yourselves!” she wheezes, staring into nothingness before waving a dismissive hand, “no for real, i don’t think they’re gonna chase us all the way here. you guys go, i have a date anyway, i’ll text kim,” it’s the name you coined for namjoon whenever you talk about him in public, “to pick me up here.”

a year ago, you would have called her a brave fool for having her boyfriend slash professor that’s teaching at the same university - pick her up in plain sight. but once you saw the unfamiliar ferrari roll to a stop in front of the dorms with tinted black windows, you understand why they can be as free and uncaring as they are.

“you sure? what if they saw you here?” you question, needles of doubt still deeply pierced into your racing heart.

but when she looks at you with arched brows and a familiar couldn’t-care-less attitude, you know nothing you say can change her mind which helps ease the knots in your stomach by a lot.

so you cave in, waving her goodbye - but not before the scarring ‘we still need to talk though’ reminder - and going back to the tall, brown haired person who’s holding his left hand midair and wiggling his fingers about in what you think is a parodic depiction of how girls wave at each other while mouthing a nasally, higher-pitched “thank you so much for helping us.”

one minute into the walk, you stop in front of the cafe you’re used to having lunch at with your group of 4 - if there’s even any group left after this, “so this kim guy - he’s way older isn’t he?”

“if you’re all knowing, you wouldn’t end that sentence with a question,” you assert, “so i’m not gonna say anything.”

“that’s a yes then,” he nods.

“i think we lost them,” you say, a tad too late but pretend to look around anyway like you’re not 200% sure of that fact.

to any outsiders, you’ll probably look like two girls standing three feet apart from each other, looking out in a distance.

“nice,” jeongguk nods, joining in your scouting party before he squints his eyes at something in the most casual manner before suggesting, “so... you wanna go on a date?”

“you think we lost them?” you whisper under your breath, worry filling your chest as you throw your gaze over somewhere at the end of the alleyway where flashes of red and blue lights passed by.

but before the black cladded boy can say anything, his lips smack together as he and you both press yourselves flat to the wall as the sound of radio static bounces into the narrow space you’ve found yourselves in. six months after your first date, which involves a crossdressing jeongguk and a day at a park that had you returning to the dorm with a giant teddy bear and a strip of photo you took from the booth comprising the multiple personalities embodied in one person from sassy to stare-into-the camera-intimidating face to him looking down and shyly peeking through his pushed back curls - you’ve gone on multiple other dates.

none of which can be considered normal because you’ll always end up in a sticky situation like you are now.

on your second month, you found out that jeon jeongguk not only has a stable income for literally playing games while trying to balance out his education but he also paints and draws.

on your third month, you go on your first mural-painting-in-the-middle-of-the-night-dressed-as-robbers date to which ended pretty well with the two of you getting hungry and having ramen at a 24 hour convenience store. so the mural painting becomes a monthly routine.

jimin finds out about it somewhere down the line and broke out into the most heartwarming smile while teasing you about how “the singles lost another one,” as he shook his head in dismay. but things went back to normal for the most parts. taehyung talks to you more now. he apologized for having only treated you like someone useful to him when he needed something and found that you have more in common than you think.

like how you’re decently informed about the greatest artists of all time - all because jeongguk was telling you about them whilst you chill at his place on days you don’t feel like going out but still want to spend time together. jeongguk, later found out that his supply of artistic information was what led to you and taehyung’s improving friendship and offers to become your spokesperson by having you invite taehyung to a cafe so he can pour his abundance of knowledge in the fine arts of painting - “since he’s so interested in van gogh, you know what i mean?”

he even finished it with a tilt of his head and an sassy ‘ugh.”

“i think we gotta run,” jeongguk’s declarations doesn’t have you arching your eyebrows and looking at him in an ‘are you for real?’ kind of manner.

it could be because you’re so used to running from law enforcement now.

or maybe because jeongguk showed you the world through his eyes. doesn’t mean it’s any less terrifying - the thought of being caught and shoved behind the bars whilst they included it in your records. but hey, at least, you’re no strangers to handcuffs.

“on one,” you say and he nods, hand squeezing yours as if saying i’ll never let them get you.

“three,” you begin, eyes fixed on the stars in jeongguk’s gaze, “two,” jeongguk breathes in deeply, “one.”

run.

note. i hope you guys enjoyed reading!! and if you want anything similar to this kind of style, i have one more college au. the second part of that one is my pinned post which also has a link to the first part. if you’re curious why i’m not gonna link or name it is because i’m convinced that tumblr literally makes anything that’s linked or mentioned it blocked for some reason idk.

but anyways, thank you for reading!!

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displacedentities · 3 years

Text

Night Out

My quickfic for @doodledrawsthings Coffee Shop AU! In truth I had this in the books for months and just never got around to finish it ;u; Unfortunately only the muse can decide when it’s time to slap me with enough serotonin to work on this, so I rode the high from recent art and wrapped it up! It’s not as clean as I wanted, but you know what, have it anyway.

-Myst -----

Finally. Another shift in the books.

With a heavy sigh, Luka stretches his back as the clock chimes up on the wall over the glass doors. Deft fingers untie the back before he slips the fabric apron over his head. A light snap of magnets punctuates the white noise of steaming coffee machines, and Luka stuffs his nametag into his pants pocket.

Luka was embarrassed to think about how much of a struggle it was to steady on for the entirety of the workday. Stress ate at him all the time, over so many things. Harriet was priority number one - did he remember to prep her meals for the day? Was she still ok, back in the apartment? Was Professor Popcorn in need of more repairs? Luka would happily handle such a task, of course, but...

He wasn't guaranteed to have thumbs when the evening finally came. There was his time limit to think about.

"Hey Luka?"

Damn, but being cursed was such a pain. Chopping vegetables was a particular bane of his existence. How could he trust himself with a knife like that? Ugh. He hated to make Harriet do it - no child should be wielding a knife before the age of 13, for any reason. He'd just have to MacGyver a solution or something.

"Luka..."

And on top of that, he had the upcoming bills to fret over. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd made a decent amount in tips, but they could not afford to have their upstairs neighbor burst a pipe again. He and Harriet had spent the entire afternoon toweling up their poor carpets to avoid getting mildew. Or worse, bugs. Luka was a fan of bugs, but not in his carpets, or sneaking into the mattress where they could bite his daughter.

"HEY!"

This time, the voice manages to pierce the haze of worry writhing in Luka's brain. Jolting to attention, the auburn-haired adult turns around, blinking owlishly at his colleague, Clover.

The braided redhead is giving him a wan smile, her brows furrowed in worry as she sets down a large bag of coffee beans under the counter.

"You spaced out again, buddy. Did you hear a word I said?" the barista asks, folding her arms over her stained apron.

"Uhh... you said my name," Luka replied, feeling a bit awkward as he chuckles once. "Sorry, I probably missed anything you might have asked me."

"I was asking if you ever go out."

"Ah- what?"

That was unexpected. Go out?

"You know-" Clover holds up her hands to gesture to the world in general, and beyond the coffee shop doors "-out! Like, with friends or anybody?"

Ah.

Luka laughs once, rubbing a hand on one side of his face.

"You mean since I moved into town? Nah, not really. Me and my daughter have only been here a few months - can't say we made many friends just yet."

Nor was that a risk they could take. Who knows how long they could stay here, before he was inevitably found out? One could argue it was a risk just- doing what he was doing now. Trying to hold a job, staying in an apartment; a semi-permanent living situation. They'd been on the road so long, old habits were quite hard to break. And if he was entirely honest with himself, Luka didn't know yet if he felt safe, even six months past the first day he arrived in the rural town of Subcon.

Clover's frown deepens, her arms dropping back to her sides. Her dropped guard betrays her worry, before she tries to play it off with another lighthearted smile and upbeat words.

"Oh come on, it can't have been that long since you've just done something fun for the sake of it. When was the last time you went out with friends and enjoyed yourself?" she asks.

"Why is this important?" Luka asks, his own guard slowly rising. He didn't quite see where she was going with this, but he wasn't sure he'd like it.

Oops- maybe not the most polite way to phrase that, as he sees an awkward flinch on Clover's face. Quick, recover! Luka chuckles once, also trying to lighten the mood.

"You and MJ never really asked me that kind of stuff before. I thought I was hired to serve coffee, not tea."

"We serve both, ya doofus," Clover smirks, rubbing one of her well-muscled arms with the other in a self-conscious gesture. "You should know that, since you've been working here almost four months now. And uh- well, MJ just kind of noticed you always seem very tired whenever you leave work."

Luka smiles back, but it's forced. Careful. Don't give any hints that it's anything serious. Don't be suspicious.

"Oh, that? I uh- I'm not used to the retail scene. I'll probably adapt to it soon."

Clover doesn't seem convinced. Still, her expression is sympathetic, rather than judgmental or suspicious. She leans her back on the counter, looking over Luka's exhausted demeanor and baggy eyes with a skeptical smile.

"I'm sure you will." She rests her hands on the counter. "In the meantime, you should go out for bowling with me and MJ! We were planning this outing for about a week, and maybe you'd wanna come with?"

Luka stops mid-folding of his apron. He turns toward Clover with surprise.

"Bowling? As in- knocking over pins in an alley, bowling?"

Clover rolls her eyes, amused. "No, as in rolling cereal bowls. Yes, that kind of bowling, Luka. It'll be fun! Eat some cheap pizza, knock over pins, watch the uncanny valley animations on the TV screen, the whole shebang. You up for joining us?"

"I uh- I didn't know there was a bowling alley here?" Luka says, his voice pitching up as he gives a sheepish laugh. "I- I don't know..."

Shit.

He could already feel the first touches of his curse starting to well up. A quick glance to his hands- okay, no purple yet. But it was coming.

Luka tucks his hands behind his back just in case.

"I'm not sure, I have Harriet to worry about..." he fumbles, rushing to think of excuses. It hurts his heart a little when he sees the disappointed expression Clover wears.

"Are you sure?" she asks, her tone gentle. "It'll only be a for a couple of hours - I could ask Cookie next door if she'd be willing to handle your daughter for the night. She's a fantastic sitter, and your daughter would have Mu to play with."

Luka opened his mouth, preparing to turn it down- then closed it again, brows furrowed as he chews over the thought.

Only a few hours... hm. His curse's current time limit was somewhere a little short of eight hours, he was sure. As long as he didn't have to pick up a shift at work, he would have most of his day free to spend out of the motel. An outing to a bowling alley couldn't possibly last eight hours, though he'd... never actually gone bowling before.

"I.... don't know... I've never been bowling, I'll just hold you back-"

"Nonsense," Clover says, waving off his excuse immediately. "MJ and I aren't professionals or anything, Luka - it's just for fun! You've never been?? That means you've gotta try it, at least once. Please?"

...mmh. Luka would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted. But he had so much to worry about! His daughter, his curse... keeping his job, being able to support the two of them. Not to mention, getting used to his slow camaraderie with Clover and MJ. That sort of outing would throw their friendship into first gear.

"It's ok," Clover interrupts his thoughts, standing back up straight as she grabs a rag and finishes wiping down the counter. "You don't have to come, we just thought... you know, it might be fun. You look like you need some serious time to unwind, dude. All we ever see of you is showing up to work, dealing with customers, then you leave. And hey, if you change your mind, the offer's still open."

Luka curls his fingers, foot tapping the floor in small fidget.

"Well, I'm gonna start closing up the back," Clover says, tossing the rag into a laundry bin next to the employee break room. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Wait!"

Clover stops, turning around with the laundry basket.

"What day were you planning to do it?"

What am I thinking?? I can't go on an outing with them!

Unaware of Luka's silent stresses, Clover beams, her smile lighting up once again.

"Saturday! Would that work for you?"

"Mnhg- maybe?" Luka concedes, forcing his own sheepish smile despite his brain screaming No nO this is a bad idea! His mouth continues to run away from him. "Saturday is my errand day - me and Harriet go out for groceries in the morning, and eat out at whatever lunch restaurant she picks. I wouldn't be open until the evening, and Sunday's game day for me and my daughter."

Bad idea, what are you doing?!

"That's perfect!" Clover says, delighted and still not privy to Luka's inner struggle. "If we close the shop at five, we can drive to the bowling alley around 5:30, play a game or two and eat. Should go until about... eight-ish? How's that sound?"

Say no, say NO!

"Sure, sounds fun."

AGH!

"Great!" Clover says, a skip in her step as she lopes off to the back room with the laundry basket. "I'll text MJ to let him know - he's already gone back to his apartment."

"Yeah, I'll uh- I'll text him too," Luka chuckles, scratching behind his head with one hand- and immediately putting a stop to that action, as he feels the points of sharp claws dig at his scalp. Both arms are dropped and tucked behind his back, a big smile on his face. "Gotta give him the full details and everything, haha..."

"No problem- see you!" Clover bids Luka goodbye, waving one hand as she cheerily hauls the laundry bin off into the back.

"Bye!" Luka says, his voice cracking from nerves.

Oh thank god she's gone.

Luka pulls his hands back out into view, and sees the telltale purple staining begin to creep up his flesh. Peck. It was already starting- Clover left just in time. He could already feel the sharp ends of his canines starting to poke into his bottom lip. He didn't have much left of the day in human form- he had to get home right now.

Snatching up his belongings from his locker, stuffing his work apron inside, Luka loops his bag over his shoulder and leaps over the service counter. He missed the rack of sugar packets this time, thankfully, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as he bolts out the door. The bell rings as the glass entryway opens and shuts, signaling his departure. Car keys are whipped out of his bag, a slowly deforming finger just managing to push the button to unlock the vehicle as he clambers inside. Just five minutes- he could make five minutes.

The engine of the car roars to life, and Luka zips off out of the employee parking space, trying his best to ignore it as his fingers swell and fuse together, and his eyes reflect golden light in the rear view mirror.

------

MJ's car putters up to outside the bowling alley, fixing his blue-dyed hair with a sigh. Clover, in the passenger seat, drums her hand on the door handle with excitement.

"This is gonna be so much fun," she says, turning to look over her shoulder at the stiff and uncomfortable Luka in the backseat. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Luka- we'll show you the ropes of bowling!"

"Great," the young man says, putting up another shaky smile as his fingers tense around his kneecaps. "Can't wait!"

"That's the spirit," MJ speaks up, giving Luka a quick smile of his own before twisting the key in the ignition. The car's engine dies down, the doors unlocking as MJ shifts the gear into park. "Clover told me you were nervous about hanging out, and that's completely fine by me - if you feel uncomfortable and don't want to stay, just let us know, ok? We'll drive you back to the apartment building, no hesitation."

Luka inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh from the back seat of the car. It felt like his nerves were trying to shake him apart. A glance at his watch-

Was he really going forward with this?

...Yes. He was. As much as Luka worried, Clover had been right. It'd been far too long since he'd taken 'me' time.

Luka puts a hand on the door and pulls the handle, stepping out of the car before he has a chance to psyche himself out.

It's just a couple hours. He still had plenty of time, after his midday outings with Harriet.

Stay calm. You can do this.

The sign above the brick building shines with neon lights, saying 'Pins & Cushions' in bright blue and red. The backdrop is a painting that Luka can swear was painted in the 80s, displaying a bowling ball as it barrels into pins and knocking them askew with a cartoony impact mark.

"Pins & Cushions?" he says aloud, smirking a little bit.

"Kind of silly, right?" MJ speaks up, locking the car behind him with a click. "Sounds more like a sewing parlor than a bowling alley."

"It's because they boasted having cushioned chairs," Clover says, snickering. "You've never been, but most bowling alleys have these awful plastic chairs that hurt to sit on for too long."

"You mean like the chairs in high school?"

Luka's joke earns a quick bark of a laugh from Clover.

"Couched seating areas in a bowling alley was, sadly, a craze that never caught on," MJ says, ascending the concrete steps up to the building. "But this one did, and the place is like forty years old and too stubborn to change, so your butt will thank you later."

When the doors open, Luka is immediately washed with a cocktail of smells he didn't think could- nor should- ever go together. First and foremost is the thick smell of plastic and rubber, followed by the chemical odor of cleaning sprays, and the sizzling smell of burning cheese. Air conditioning blasts them from above as the three young adults enter the bowling alley, the doors sliding shut behind their backs. The sounds hit next - a cacophonous mix of rubber soles squeaking on polished floors, heavy objects falling and rolling, and the clatter of pins falling into the trap at the far end of the establishment.

It was loud, smelled strange, and the carpet looked lifted straight out of an arcade.

Luka was torn between anxiety, and a strange sort of excitement he hadn't felt in a long, long time. This was something new, something unfamiliar- he had hours to enjoy himself, and spend time not worrying about stresses of life. Harriet had a sitter, paid in advance with an alarm for when he would return, and he was out with- friends? Had him accepting this invitation solidified their friendship at this point? ...the thought made a happy butterfly flutter in his stomach.

This would be a great evening, he could feel it.

"Earth to Luka." MJ's amused tone causes Luka to jump. "Something on your mind? You're smiling."

"Oh- uh- nothing," Luka says, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "Just- thanks. For inviting me. I think I really did need this a lot."

"YEAH you do!" Clover thumps him on the back with one hand. "Come on! You have to give your shoes to the clerk so they can give you your bowling shoes."

"Ah, what? I have to take off my shoes on this carpet?" Luka complains, lifting a foot with distaste. "I feel like I'm stepping on twenty-year-old candy."

"It's part of the charm!" Clover sings, already removing one of her sneakers. "It's either this, or slip all over the place on the actual alley floor. You're getting the full bowling experience whether you like it or not, coffee boy."

"Ex-CUSE me!" Luka says with a dramatic gasp, hopping on one foot as he works to remove his own shoes. "I think you will find I'm a coffee man, thank you."

"Coffee twink," Clover counters.

"No, that's MJ."

"HEY! I will call lion's share of the tips for that one," MJ shakes a sneaker at them both in a mock scolding gesture.

"YOU'RE BOTH COFFEE TWINKS," Clover declares to the entire establishment as she fights off her last sneaker, racing for the counter before the others can catch up. "HURRY UP, COFFEE TWINKS, WE NEED TO PICK OUT BOWLING BALLS."

"I have dibs on the galaxy patterned one!" MJ yells after Clover.

Clover gives MJ an evil grin as she takes her bowling shoes and pays the rental fee, tying them before sauntering over to the racks of bowling balls. Her hand hovers over the selection, giving a teasing pause over the bowling ball made with swirled star plastic.

"Don't you dare," MJ hisses from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at Clover as he hands over the money for both his and Luka's rental shoes.

"It's either the tips share, or the bowling ball! You decide!" Clover yells back, drumming her fingers on the coveted starry bowling ball.

"Fiiiiine," MJ says with a dramatic tone, though his smile gives away his mirth. "You know I wasn't going to take the tips anyway, Clo."

"I know~" she says, giggling while she moves on to a different rack of bowling balls. "And you know I wouldn't do that to your poor weak arms, either, Moonie."

Luka finishes tying his rental shoes, thanking MJ before he makes his way down the small stairway to the alleys. It's very bright in this section of the building, with cushioned couches surrounding tables and standing consoles. Metal railings and a chute of some kind were positioned at each alleyway, some with bowling balls sitting idle atop the metal racks.

"So, what now?" Luka asks, the excitement of wading into unknown waters welling in his chest again.

"Pick a bowling ball!" Clover says, gesturing to the racks of heavy plastic spheres. "You'll want a heavy one, but not too heavy for you to lift and throw."

"Go easy on us, Clover." MJ shakes his head as he picks up his favorite starry ball. "Ms. Gun Show and her fourteen-pound bowling ball."

The redhead leans over and scoops up a swirled green bowling ball, hefting it on one arm and pumping it like a weight.

"You might get some guns yourself if you helped me landscape and move sod around my garden, Coffee Twink #1," she says, flexing a bicep.

"I refuse to acknowledge that nickname."

"Sorry, it's our team name now," Clover laughs, "the Coffee Twinks!"

"Hey, I thought our team name was the Comets?!"

"That was before Luka joined the team - now it's a 2-to-1 twink majority, I don't make the rules."

Luka just has his face in his hands, laughing through the whole exchange as he leans on the metal racks.

"You're just as bad as Harriet!" Luka laughs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand. "I don't even know where she learned that word - Cookie's daughter, probably?"

"Definitely," MJ says with a thousand yard stare, earning more laughter from Luka. "Go pick a bowling ball, I'll get the console up and running for our game."

Wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling under his breath, Luka turns to the racks and peruses the selection. The bowling balls come in all colors - most are black or dark brown, but there's a rather delightful mix of brighter hues like pink, blue and yellow. Some are marbled, some have glitter in the plastic, and a few very beat-up bowling balls have graphics of cartoon characters that were popular in the 90s. Well-loved by the children who patronize this establishment, he was sure. Harriet would love the Scooby-Doo ball - oh no wait. The one themed after a Pokeball, for sure was her poison of choice. And clearly the pick of the litter for many other children, as it was covered in scratches and dents from decades of use.

Ah- there was one themed after a jack-o-lantern! How fitting. He loops his fingers into the grip holes of the bowling ball, and heaves it off of the rack- only to almost crush his toes as the weight yanks his arms to the floor.

That was- heavier than expected!

"Oooooh, nice pick," Clover says, spinning her own bowling ball in her hands. "You sure you can carry it, though? That's a 10-pounder."

"I'll be fine-" Luka says, grunting as he lifts it back up with both hands this time. "Just- caught me off guard, is all."

"Alright, game's all set," MJ announces from the console.

Above their heads, a large tube television flashes blue before displaying a score board.

A loud k-chunk k-chunk k-chunk of machinery draws Luka's eye toward the other end of the alley. Metal rigging and machinery descend from the covered roof of the pin trap. Resembling a large soda crate, the rig drops an array of ten white bowling pins, before unclamping and ascending back into the darkness of whatever creation of god resided in that ceiling.

"You're up first, Clo," MJ says, waving a hand to indicate she should move forward.

"Watch and learn," Clover throws Luka a smile, the competitive taunt dampened by her genuinely helpful tone. "You want to throw the ball so it rolls like this-"

Stepping forward onto the squeaky, smooth polished wooden platform, Clover lifts her bowling ball to her chest. With a quick inhale, she lopes forward two steps, swinging her arm back with the bowling ball, before reeling it forward on the last stride and underhand throwing it into the aisle. The heavy green bowling ball lands with a tHDD before skidding its way down the oiled track, rolling in a long, smooth line. The swirled green sphere smacks into the bowling pins with a loud tHWAKK!!, sending all but one of the pins flying into the darkness beyond. The ball disappears into the hole, and Clover puts her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Damn, almost got a strike." Clover snaps her fingers, shrugging. The green bowling ball clatters back up the chute. She grips her fingers into the trio of holes again, and goes for another throw.

The bowling ball rolls down the course, straight as an arrow for the last pin. The pin spins off the wooden platform into the darkness, earning a whoop from Clover.

"Nice, got a spare!" Clover declares, throwing her arms up in triumph. She sashays her way back to the couches. "Who's up next?"

"I'm up," MJ says, standing from the console. Looping his fingers into his own starry bowling ball, MJ rolls his shoulders and steps up onto the oiled wooden planks. "I'm going to get the first strike of the day, just wait."

"Sure you will," Clover snickers as MJ winds up.

When he releases the ball, it rolls at very high speed- before curving halfway down the track, the topspin he put on the ball causing it veer off course and land in the gutter.

Face flushed, MJ coughs into his hand, suddenly very invested in fixing his shirt as Clover grins. The galaxy ball returns to the trough, and MJ pointedly picks it up again, winding up for his second throw. The bowling ball rocks down the course, and knocks over about six pins, leaving a corner of the triangle still standing.

"Woo!" Clover cheers, clapping as MJ returns to the seating. She reaches over and nudges Luka on the shoulder. "You're up, Luke! Show us whatchu got!"

Heart in his throat, Luka stands from his seat and steps up.

The bowling ball grins up at him, daring him to chicken out. It was heavy in his hand. Still, he walked up onto the polished floor, feeling the rubber on the bottom of his shoes as it grips the oiled surface.

Fighting the weight of the heavy bowling ball, Luka takes a step forward, swinging his arm back before bringing it back around like a pendulum. The ball hits the track with a heavy thDD as it’s released, sent rolling off down the track. Around the halfway point, it spins off course and lands in the gutter with a clunk.

“Aww,” Clover says, leaning over the chair cushion. “And you had such good posture, too.”

“It’s ok,” MJ speaks up, seeing Luka’s visible embarrassment. “It’s your first time bowling! Nothing to be ashamed of. You have another shot before we rotate players.”

Disappointed, Luka rubs at his arm. Well, that was a less than encouraging performance. But he noticed the angle of the spin on the ball. Maybe he could fix that.

The ball clatters up the chute back into the return trough. Luka picks it up with a huff of breath, holding it to his chest as he does mental calculations. If he turned his wrist at just the right point...

Stepping forward, Luka swings back and releases the ball, putting a top spin on the ball at the last possible moment-

The jack-o-lantern face rockets down the alley, the path straight until the very last second. It curves to hit the front pin from the side, knocking every single pin into the abyss beyond.

"OHHHHH!" Clover and MJ exclaim, clapping with enthusiasm as Luka looks stunned.

"You got a strike!" Clover says, applauding with a big grin. "You were totally pulling our legs about being a newbie to this, huh??"

"I think I just got lucky," Luka tries to play it off, feeling an uncommon shyness as he smiles.

Clover shakes her head, not having it.

"Luck nothing! That was pure talent, and you got a strike, dude!"

"Technically that was a spare, but still a strike in my book," MJ says as he rotates the turn order on the console, giving Luka a smile and a thumbs up.

"Oh let him have it, Moon Moon," Clover laughs as MJ throws her a pout. "Our new boy's got game!"

Luka hunches his shoulders, an awkward smile curling across his cheeks as he walks back over to the couches. Clover jumps to attention and makes her way to the track, picking up her green bowling ball for another round as he sits down.

This was... much more fun than he had expected it to be. The background noise of the bowling alley was surprisingly pleasant. He found he could get used to the dull odor of plastic and cleaner- and honestly, that hot cheese smell from what must be the pizzeria was tempting his stomach. But best of all was the camaraderie he could feel sparking between him, Clover, and MJ. Were they officially friends now? Or had they been already, and he was just- in denial? If Luka was entirely honest with himself, probably the latter. MJ and Clover had been nothing but kind and understanding, to him. His sporadic hours and excuses had done nothing to faze them with regards to their treatment of him at work. They still offered him drinks and invited him on this outing, offering even to pay for his expenses, didn't they?

"Hey Luka!" A call from MJ breaks him out of the small reverie. "You're up, again."

"And after this round, we can hit the arcade! I bet I can out-dance you on DDR, Coffee Twinks," Clover smirks.

"No betting. I know you can."

Maybe- maybe he had nothing to worry about.

---

The evening is going fantastic.

The first bowling game had been a pretty close match between Luka and Clover. Clover had the arm strength to pull off some mean and fast throws, but Luka had developed a system. Figuring out how to spin the bowling ball just the right amount had made up for his noodle arms and less weighty bowling ball. It wasn't long before he figured out how to roll a pretty straight record of spares and strikes, with the occasional 7-10 split. After bowling around, they went into the arcade section, with an entire paper roll of quarters to blow on games. A vicious Ms. Pacman multiplayer match had led to MJ smoking all three of them, and as predicted, Clover out-danced both of the boys on the DDR and Stepmania machines. Luka had to collapse over a nearby chair with exhaustion after his matches. He'd finished off the arcade run with a very lucky pull from a claw machine, winning a black cat plush with big yellow eyes that he was definitely going to enjoy giving to Harriet.

The three of them sat around their table at the bowling console again, laughing over a hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.

"No way, you didn't!" Luka gasps, wheezing for air.

"I did! I punched his goddamn lights out!" Clover laughs, slapping one knee. "The guy was being a huge creep, so I introduced him to my fist."

"I hope you didn't get in trouble with the cops or something for that." Luka tilts his head, giving her an impressed and worried look.

"Can't get in trouble if nobody reports it," MJ chimes in, smirking past his soda cup. "He complained to me, but I had the security tapes AND plausible deniability because I wasn't on the floor. Corporate took our side on this."

"Nobody from the city wants to drive all the way out to podunk Subcon for a random dudebro's complaint." Clover sits back on her cushioned seat, chomping into her pizza happily. "Mmmmm- delicious melty cheese."

Luka chomps into his own pizza, exhaling and blowing on it as it nearly burns his mouth.

"Easy, tiger!" MJ smirks around his own mouthful of pizza.

"I know, it's just so good," Luka says, laughing into his hand as he sips some of his cola. "But in like- the way you know it's not that great? Does that make sense?"

"Night in the Woods taught me the Pizza Scale, and I stick by that," Clover says, crunching through her crust to grab up another slice, washing down the bread with some soda. When she reaches for another piece of the pie, she pauses, and lets out a huff. "Oh, that sucks. I guess they didn't clean the bowling balls that well this time. Gross."

"Hm?" Luka says through a mouthful of pizza.

"Your fingers are all oil-stained from the finger holes on the bowling ball, Luka. Big Al needs to wash the bowling balls properly."

Confused, the law student shifts his attention down.

The ends of his fingertips are discolored with ebony purple.

Luka can feel as his brain zeroes in on the first sign of his impending transformation, and begins to shift into emergency mode as it relays the steps he must take in order to avoid further exposure. He'd gone over this information with himself many times over the past five years. It was ingrained in his mind, what he had to do, the information practically screaming at him. But he can't hear it. His ears are filled with buzzing as reality breaks into the facade he'd slowly built up over the course of hours.

No-

No no no-

His pizza slice drops to the paper plate as he fumbles with his bag, pulling out the cell phone from the liner pocket. Shaking fingers tap the screen with frantic speed, trying to turn the damn thing on-

9:17?

They'd been here nearly four hours?!

He'd spent the morning out with Harriet, doing their grocery shopping and walking around the town's outdoor mall as much needed father-daughter time. Eight hours of being in disguise had long since passed.

His time limit was up.

This couldn't be happening. Yet the numbers stare back at him from the glare of his cell phone screen. They even have the nerve to tick over to 9:18 right before his eyes.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening! It wasn't fair!

"Luka, you ok? You're turning pale..."

Clover's question just barely manages to pierce the haze, causing Luka to jolt in his seat. Posture stiff and breath shallow, he lifts his head to meet Clover's questioning eyes. She's staring at him with building concern, her smile becoming a frown of worry.

The tension is palpable in the air as Luka struggles to find words. Finally, he manages to say something.

"It's- it's a quarter past nine-"

"Oh shoot-" Clover says, sitting up abruptly as she grabs her own phone.

MJ checks his watch, wincing. "Oof. Sorry, Luka. I guess we lost track of time passing. I'll apologize to Cookie for the overtime, we can finish this round and go-"

"Don't feel good- going to the bathroom-" Luka wheezes, scrambling to his feet as he scoops all of his belongings into his bag and races past MJ's seat.

"Luka!" Clover yells after him, her heightened concern audible in her voice. "Ok, we'll- we'll start cleaning up! Let us know if you need-!"

Her words are cut off by the slam of the bathroom door. Luka's bowling shoes slip over the slick tile floor, his hands gripping onto the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink to steady himself. He brings his shaking hands up to view in the mirror. The blackening purple skin was spreading up his finger joints, reaching his palms.

No- not now! Why now?

Luka clenches his fists and his jaw, focusing every ounce of his will on making the purple go away. He can almost feel a vein pop on his forehead- if he still had veins, anymore- as he strains to make his unwilling body follow his desires. The purple starts to recede at a caterpillar crawl... but it slows. And the harder he tries, the more he can feel his arms struggle to hold their shape - becoming less solid.

"No- no!" he whimpers, clenching his hands into the sink again. The action splatters small droplets of purple sludge against the porcelain, which vanish moments later as the purple staining once more consumes his fingers - and now his palms. "Stop it! Just- let me be human! Please!"

He lifts his head to the mirror. Despair fills his gut as he sees amber eyes staring back at him in the reflection, and the beginnings of an inner glow fighting to come out from the back of his throat.

Luka lets out a wordless sound of sorrow, lifting an arm to pound one fist against the mirror in vain. The reflection is unfazed in its destitution, tears beginning to gather at the edges of its eyes and mouth set into a sob of clenched teeth. The reflection's canine's lengthen several inches as the eyes stare back, accusingly. The purple was starting to spread up its neck, just poking out the collar of the shirt.

"No..."

This wasn't him. But it had been, years ago. This was SUPPOSED to be him.

He curls his fist, watching as the fingers start losing their shape. Fusing together, becoming single digits and his thumbs vanish back into the purple sludge of the limb.

"I was finally-..." Luka whimpers, "...I finally felt human again."

-bang bang bang-

The sound of a fist knocking on the bathroom door causes Luka to yelp and jump back from the mirror.

"Luka? You ok in there?"

It was MJ.

Peck!

Grabbing his bag, Luka books it into the furthest stall of the bathroom. He slams the metal door behind him, fumbling to lock it with his swelling mitten fingers. Alarm shot through his gut as his shirt felt tight around his torso. Already?? This was faster than usual! Had he really pushed it that much?

"Hey man, are you sick? Clover and I are really concerned. Do you need any help in there?"

"NO! NO I'M GOOD!" Luka yells from the bathroom stall, clapping a two-fingered hand over his mouth as he hears the slight reverb echo to his own voice. Dammit! "I'M JUST- I'LL BE FINE!"

He was not fine, he would most certainly not be fine!

"Luka, you sound croaky." It was Clover this time, probably a short distance behind MJ. "Dude, are you sure? MJ, maybe you should go in and check on him-"

"NO!"

No, the reverb was stronger!

"Luka, I'm coming in."

"MJ it's fine!"

Luka could hear the seams of his shirt starting to stretch and strain. The seconds were ticking by as strings started to pop at the neck.

Shit, shit!

Luka turned left and right, the stall cramped and uncomfortable as the ruff of fur around his neck thickens and threatens to burst his shirt open. He needed a way out!

Aha! A small window, to the outside! Wow, that was probably the worst location for a window. And it was so small-

The door creaked as MJ started to turn the handle.

NO TIME!

Luka makes a dive for the window. His fingers catch on the sill, and he hauls his body up onto the tiny ledge, his head pushing up the glass and emerging out into the open air. Squeezing through the narrow space, he struggles to pull his feet through, kicking off the bowling shoes and hearing them clatter to the tiles below.

The door comes unlatched, and MJ enters the bathroom, looking around with a frown.

Luka was gone. And for some reason, his bowling shoes were abandoned on the questionably cleaned bathroom floor.

Just outside the window, tucked next to the wall of the alleyway outside the bowling alley, Luka is panting with adrenaline. He can feel his chest expand further with each breath, the fur mane around his neck already splitting apart his shirt. His fingers had fully lost their human shape by now, coalescing back into the familiar mitts he hated so much. A reminder that, no, he wasn't human. No matter what those people in the bowling alley thought of him, and what he thought of them in return... no matter how much he wanted to be human, again.

"Luka?"

His entire torso now fully drenched in purple, Luka hangs his head, listening as he fights to strip off the shirt suffocating him.

Footsteps, in the bathroom.

"...Luka? What the-... Clover, he's not here?"

"What?? But he- went into the bathroom! He was just-!"

"His shoes are here..."

"His shoes??"

Luka forces himself to stand, wobbling a bit further away from the window as he focuses all of his efforts on keeping his legs. He can't lose his ability to walk, not in the middle of town!

God dammit... god dammit! Why couldn't he just enjoy his night? Now he was wandering alleyways, half transformed, and MJ and Clover were no doubt worried to hell and back. What could he even say? 'Sorry, had to take a break to wolf out in the bathroom'?

-brrring brrring-

The buzz of the phone in his pants pocket- which was getting tight against his waist, he noticed. Luka quickly extracts the phone before it can be damaged by the fabric.

MJ's caller ID stares back at him from the screen.

The decision to trust these two with his information was biting him in his rapidly purpling behind. He'd been so careful not to slip up, and the ONE TIME he makes a mistake... He had another decision to make. He could not respond, and just be a complete asshole, but he could protect his secret a little safer, for just a little bit longer. Or he could pick up, and... he didn't know. Bullshit something? Would they even believe whatever malarkey he could cook up in seven seconds for bailing out of a bowling alley restroom? God, he was terrible at improvised excuses! He was a lawyer, not an actor! But if he answered the phone call, maybe- maybe he could hold on to that feeling again. The warmth of companionship of peers his age, that he hadn't felt since law school. Since... Vanessa. But he couldn't think about her right now. What mattered was his safety- his daughter's safety.

Peck. He didn't even think about that part. Could he really rip Harriet out of a somewhat stable home life, again? She was just starting to get along with Cookie's daughter, and he didn't want to take that precious first friendship from her.

Luka was only pulled out of the downward spiral by the vibration of the phone, which he only now realized had registered a missed call, and was now on the second call. It was still MJ, the picture of him in his Horizon employee cap still smiling from the bright phone screen.

He had to do something. He could feel his legs protest the form they was struggling to hold.

Survival instinct set in. First, he had to get away from the scene.

Stumbling to his malforming feet, Luka jogs away from the alley, ducking away from the Pins & Cushions and avoiding the bright neon sign on the side of the building.

As he walks, a headache hits, and Luka just knows his face was losing more of his familiar features. Didn't need a mirror to know that he was definitely the shade of a bruised plum, and that his eyes were glowing like gold beacons. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth were digging into his bottom lip as he dodges and weaves to avoid line of sight from storefront apartment windows.

The woods were so close by, just a few more blocks.

Faster. He had to run faster. But his legs- were fighting him! Already he could feel his steps become lighter, movement more fluid. It was a struggle to keep a walking stride, rather than just- leap into the air. No way was he going to fly a block from pecking main street.

His phone continues to vibrate, threatening the call to drop.

Right when he reaches the sidewalk, Luka pants for breath, collapsing beside the pole for a street lamp while avoiding the amber spotlight. Taking one last rueful look at his phone, he sighs, and presses the answer button with a doughy purple finger.

"Luka?" MJ's voice patches through. The reception isn't great, but it's sufficient. Maybe that was a lucky break, considering what his voice was going to sound like in a second.

"Hey," Luka answers. Yep. He sounded like a toad that swallowed a brass tube. "Sorry- about that."

"Dude, are you ok?? Where did you go?" MJ spoke so quickly it almost interrupted Luka, concern clear and evident in his voice. "You ran or something and- you left your shoes at the counter, and the cat plush for your daughter. Clover got them for you-"

"It's ok," Luka says, wincing. "I can pick them up tomorrow. I- don't feel well, and I have to go get Harriet."

"Luka, we could have driven you home for that," MJ responds, a hint of hurt and confusion. "You know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable, and want to leave, right?"

"No- this- I was having fun," Luka responds, cupping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the echo. He had to wrap this up. His voice was getting less natural by the second. He really hoped the poor reception would mask it. "Look- I'm sorry MJ. But I really had to go."

"You're not getting kidnapped or something are you?" Clover's distant voice suddenly patches through in the phone. MJ must have his phone on speaker. "Because if you are, I'll hunt them down! Just yell where the car is taking you!"

"I'm not- look, I'm sorry, but I just had to go, ok?" Luka says. "Harriet needs me."

"I thought you were feeling sick?" Clover says, her worried tone now tinted with... suspicion. "You ran to the bathroom, and we were all worried about you, dude." Her voice becomes just a bit distant, as she turns to speak to MJ, but the phone picks it up. “Actually, did we ever hear anything from Cookie...?”

"No- I am-" Luka can feel his lies crumbling, nearly becoming true as he experiences a sensation similar to his stomach heaving from the anxiety. "Thanks for the wonderful evening, I'll pick up my stuff later- bye!"

"Wait-!!"

-click-

MJ's protest is cut off, and Luka set the phone down on the grass, putting his head in the other hand. That was terrible. But he couldn't back out on it now. He would just have to deal with the consequences of that phone call tomorrow.

Not like having shoes or not bothered him, anyway.

Exhausted and resigned, Luka slides away from the lamp post into the chaparral, and begins rapidly pulling his shirt over his head. No way was he going to lose another shirt, not after the last one. This was his last nice shirt, and he intended to keep it as long as possible!

A quiet gasp jolts him out of his frantic folding.

Luka whips around, shirtless, half de-pantsed, and his body a full shade of deep shadow purple. His golden eyes glow in the reflected street light as he freezes on the spot, making eye contact with another human being across the road. It was the stocky mustachioed man from the coffee shop- the regular who came by and sketched quietly in a corner. Pinstriped suit- which seemed to be the only outfit anyone ever saw him wore- an apron, and grey khaki pants. The thick glasses would make it difficult to tell where he was looking, if the man wasn't standing with his square jaw hanging down at his chest, head angled directly toward Luka. Everyone dismissed him as a paranoiac, a hermit who stopped by for his morning caffeine fix and quiet atmosphere to indulge in his imagination. Rumors flew that he used to work for some sort of tabloid magazine, and was fired- or promoted?- for how crazy his stories were.

Whatever the reason, this man was now standing, groceries dropped to the pavement, and staring at Luka. A very half-naked, absolutely not human-looking Luka.

Face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment and fear, Luka grabs his belt loops and bolts into the trees.

The movement causes the man to only gape more, making a wordless noise of astonishment before the forest breaks their line of sight and Luka retreats into the safety of the woods. Luka just barely remembers to grab his shirt and belt from the bushes. Vanishing entirely from sight, stumbling over debris as his transformation takes full hold of his body, Luka wheezes as his heart beats in his chest. After all that, he was seen! Peck! Did he just ruin everything because he wasn’t paying attention? But- but it was just the local hermit, the resident conspiracy nut. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This wasn’t as catastrophic as being spotted by a teen with a cell phone open. Surely, this was the safest possible person in town to accidentally spot him mid-transformation. Repercussions would be minimal.

Thank god the man didn't have a camera.

#Coffee Shop Au #AHIT #A Hat In Time #doodledrawsthings #Snatcher #Hat Kid #Moonjumper #Clover #noticed a couple mistakes and it's too late to fix em wHOOPS #OH WELL

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teruthecreator · 3 years

Text

sweet surprises

lord forgive me for the cringe i’m about to post. i fully blame this post and this post for planting the seeds of berdley having a crush on kris in my brain. also shouts out to izel for listening to me go insane at 3 AM about this.

anyways, here’s a thing.

______________________________________________________________

Excitement is in the air.

Unlike the usual calm monotony of life at school, things recently have been quite...electric. Not because of the portal to the Dark World hidden behind the door of the closet, or the adventures had by a select group of students through the portal in the Librarby a few days ago. No, this isn’t about that.

This is about the Sadie Hawkman’s Dance. The once-a-year phenomenon where the school puts on its best interpretation of a formal dance for the incredibly small number of students who attend class. Students buzz in excitement for the event, preparing their most formal outfits and getting ready to dazzle their friends and fellow classmates with their dramatic entrances into the auditorium.

And, of course, there’s the all important ritual of asking someone to the dance.

There’s already been a few proposals made this week. Jockington rolled into class like a hula hoop and asked Catti to be his “best bro” for the dance, to which she happily agreed. (And by that, I mean she looked up from her phone, smiled, said not a single word, and went back to typing.) Temmie loudly announced to the class that she would be taking her egg, which was somehow...embarrassed that she mentioned it. And, of course, Noelle finally managed to work up enough courage to ask Susie to the dance. It was done in an incredible display of candy canes that spelled out the phrase: “CAN(E) YOU BE MY DATE TO THE DANCE?” Unfortunately, Susie was about halfway through scarfing the display down before she realized what it said. She then began choking on one of the candy canes out of disbelief, which wound her in the nurse for the rest of the day. But, when she could speak again, she very quietly agreed to Noelle’s proposal (and, if you happened to be a fly on the wall in that room, you could hear a tail thump rhythmically against the doctor’s bench as she did so).

Kris was pleased with everything. They were happy to see their friends so happy together. A long time coming, if you asked them. And they’d be just as happy attending the dance solo, since they’ll undoubtedly be dragged along by Susie. They’d never gone to the dance before--never had a reason to, truth be told. But with their newfound friends, they may just enjoy being a wingman for the night.

...Speaking of wingmen, Berdly will probably be going solo as well. Unsurprising, but Kris makes a mental note to ensure the bird will be in attendance. As much as he is kind of a lot sometimes, he’s their friend. And Kris is going to make sure all of their friends are having fun at that dance!

They walk into class thinking of this (surprisingly early, for a change), which is why they almost miss the massive display sitting boldly atop their desk. They freeze the instant it catches their eye and, for a second, they almost believe it isn’t real. Like some leftover thoughts of the Dark World lingering in their vision. But, after wiping their eyes and seeing that it’s still there, they decide to approach and...investigate.

The display is expertly crafted by someone who clearly knows their way around a glue gun. It is a heart-shaped arch that is decorated with a myriad of printed illustrations of Super Smashing Fighters Melee characters, all having cut-outs to hold different bars of chocolate. There are also numerous origami hearts glued around the characters on the arch, in colors spanning across the rainbow. The arch is painted in swirls of blues, pinks, and reds and covered with a border of glitter that sprinkles onto the desk when Kris reaches out to pluck a chocolate bar from its perch. On the desk itself is a big origami heart that says “TO KRIS” in gold calligraphy. It is by far one of the coolest, nicest, cheesiest things Kris has ever seen.

They look up from the display to see if anyone else is seeing this shit, and that’s when it all clicks.

Because sitting at the front of the classroom, fidgeting way more than normal, is Berdly. He keeps interlocking his ankles underneath his desk before unlocking them and kicking the air, turning around every half-second or so to try and catch Kris’s reaction. From the brief moments Kris can see the front of him, they notice he’s not in his usual white collared shirt and black khaki shorts. Instead, his shirt is buttoned all the way up, with a nice blue bowtie tied around his neck. He also traded out his khaki shorts for a pair of dress pants that look to be a tad too long for his legs. He keeps reaching up to smooth out the feathers on his head, which immediately stick back up from stress.

Now, Kris may be a straight B student, but they’re not stupid. Context clues are a very good thing, and all signs point to Berdly as the culprit of this public display of...affection?

Beyond Berdly is Ms. Alphys at her desk, who shoots Kris a look of deep understanding and maybe...guilt? She looks at Berdly for a split second and shrugs her shoulders, indicating he was probably in here long before she was and so she had no way of stopping him from leaving it there.

Kris looks back down at the display and picks up the large origami heart. As they begin to unfold it, they see a sprawling letter written in the same flashy calligraphy. Kris squints at the letters--they’re dyslexic, so everything kind of just looks like spaghetti on paper. Still, they’re able to make out the largely printed question of “WILL YOU GO TO THE DANCE WITH ME?” with no issue.

Huh, guess they won’t be going to the dance alone after all…? It’s a little confusing as to why Berdly would want to go with them, though. Like, they’ve hung out a little bit--usually whenever Berdly wanted a “worthy rival” to play video games with, he would come over and Kris would whoop his ass for a few hours. And, of course, there were the recent events in the Cyber World; but Kris is pretty sure them and Susie had thoroughly convinced Noelle and Berdley that that was all a dream. So, why them?

They’re lost in this train of thought for so long that they don’t even notice the other kids enter the room until they suddenly hear:

“Yo, Kris???????? What the heck is this thing????” Susie’s voice doesn’t startle them, but it is loud enough to get them to look up. Susie is standing next to their desk, looking at the display with genuine amazement thinly masked by disgust. She’s also loud enough to basically stop the whole class (who were all muttering amongst themselves about it anyway), which gives Kris only a second to gaze around the room before--

SLAM!

The door to the classroom slams shut, leaving one seat unoccupied.

Berdley’s.

“This thing’s got chocolate on it????” Susie continues to marvel at the display while Kris looks at the door, frowning. They feel...bad. It isn’t Berdley’s fault for trying to fit in with the other kids' proposals; he admitted to feeling like he needs to do more just to stand out enough for people to acknowledge him back in the Dark World. And this thing is really...thoughtful! The characters are all ones Kris typically mains, or ones they know Berdley mains, which means he remembers things about Kris. And the chocolate is a given, but it is nice to be able to stock their personal snack stash with some fancy stuff. Ultimately, it’s very sweet, and Kris can’t help but feel a little guilty for not saying anything immediately.

They turn and lock eyes with Ms. Alphys, who looks extremely out-of-depth with this situation. She makes a number of gestures from them to the door in a flustered way of saying I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on please help me Kris I know I’m asking a lot of you but I don’t know how to deal with teenage angst I’m like thirty-five. They sigh, standing up and walking past Susie (but not before giving her a stare that warns her if a single chocolate bar is gone that they will be holding that over her until the day she dies) and following Berdly out the door.

It doesn’t take Kris very long to follow the trail of labored breathing to where Berdley is--in the abandoned classroom, hyperventilating as he teeters on a breakdown. Luckily, when Kris opens the door, it seems to put a halt to his spiralling because he just kind of...freezes. Like a deer caught in headlights. Or a Berdley caught in Kris-lights. Kris takes this moment to let the door shut behind them, trapping the two in here. Together.

“U-Uhhhhh, hi--he--Um. H-Hello, K-Kris…” Berdly attempts to put on his usual bravado, but his voice betrays him brutally by squeaking and cracking on every syllable. Kris can’t help the smile that comes to their face.

“Uh, hey,” they reply with a wave. Berdley continues to stand there and stare (almost like he wasn’t expecting Kris to care enough to follow him) before the present circumstances return to his mind and he begins breathing hard again.

“I-I-I-I, uh...I was. Um. J-Just, uh. G-Getting some fresh air! Y-Yes! The classroom can be s-so stuffy sometimes, I’m sure y-you--you, uh...you agree?” Berdley makes a valiant attempt at hiding his panic, which Kris almost takes pity on. But they don’t think the monster will feel any better if they just pretend what happened back there never happened.

“Yeah. I liked the display.” Kris says simply. Berdley stands stock-straight at that, looking even worse for wear in the “being normal and completely cool” department.

“O-Oh??????? That ol’ thing????? I, um--well I just--y-you see, I--uh. Um,” You can really hear the gears in his head turning as he attempts to come up with an excuse. “I-I-I just thought you w-would appreciate the craftsmanship of!!! A t-true artisan, such as myself!!! So, I!!! M-Made it!!! COMPLETELY PLATONICALLY, OF COURSE!!!! I-I would never imply that my intentions w-were anything other than for bro-sies, i--You didn’t read that whole card, did you?”

“I can’t read,” They mean this as a joke, but they can see Berdley seriously consider this for a second too long. “Dude, I’m dsylexic. I can’t really read cursive…” Berdley freezes up once more, which makes Kris realize they haven’t really projected that as loudly as they might’ve thought.

“Oh! Right! How could I forget! That you’re! Dsylexic!” Berdley’s smile is stapled to his face as he begins to rhythmically knock on his head. “And I! Wrote! That! Entire! Note! In! Cursive! Which! You! Can’t! Read!!!” Kris steps forward in an attempt to keep Berdley from bashing his own skull in, but that only makes Berdley more tense, so they take a step back. “I-I just--The note isn’t important! None of it’s important actually can we forget this interaction ever happened okay? Okay yes that’s great have a wonderful day Kris I will be returning home to sitinmyroomandneverreturntothecorporealrealmalrightgoodbyeforeverKris--” He attempts to sidestep around Kris and out the door, but is very easily intercepted.

“Stop.” Kris grabs him by the shoulders, which seems to shut him up for a second. “Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” Berdley gapes at them as his face steadily grows redder, which makes Kris feel as if there’s something on their face. But he quickly shakes it off, going from completely neurotic to...dejected.

“I just…” He starts, trailing off immediately. “You deserve to have a big proposal, same as everyone else. I-I see you in the back of the class, just...watching. And I, uh, felt it was time to...give you the spotlight! But that was silly of me, wasn’t it?” He looks off to the side at the floor, smiling sadly. “After all, who’d want to go to the dance with me…? I-I’m alone every year, standing in the background. Just kind of...taking it all in...and th-thinking about how it’d be...nice to be a part of it. But that’s...not probable. It was just nice to think about taking you to the dance because you’re--well, you’re nice to me, and you’re funny, and you actually listen to me when I’m talking, an-and you’re a good person and an incredible gaming legend...but I shouldn’t have put it all on you in front of everyone...I’m. I’m sorry, Kris.” He won’t make eye contact with the human, but Kris can still see the tears collecting in his eyes.

“Berdley, that’s stupid.” Kris says, which Berdley cringes at, “Why wouldn’t I wanna go with you?” That part is...not what Berdley was expecting. He looks up at Kris, unsure of where to go from here.

“U-Um…? Because of all the previously stated things? Like me being a complete loser who nobody likes?”

“I like you,” Kris replies immediately, leaving Berdley’s feathers sticking straight up as he flusters. “And I like your display. It’s...really sweet.”

“E-Even if you can’t read the note?” Berdley’s voice cracks.

“I mean, I could read the: WILL YOU GO WITH ME TO THE DANCE part, so, like. Yeah.” Kris shrugs. “Plus, you got me chocolate. Nice chocolate. Nobody...gets me things like that.” They smile, a light dusting of blush across their face. “I’ll go with you.” Berdley’s entire body seizes up for the third time, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“W-W-w-W-w-w-w-w-W-W-W-w-w-w-Wh-Wha-wh-w-w-wha-wha-w-wh-Wh-Wha-wh-Wha-wha-w-w-W-W-W--” Berdley continues to struggle with the word “what” for a solid minute and a half before he’s finally about to manage a: “What?!” Kris can’t help but laugh.

“I said that, Berdley,” at this, they move their grip from his shoulders to his hands, “I will go to the Sadie Hawkman’s dance with you.”

The circuits in Berdley’s brain struggle with this frequency for an extended moment before his face erupts in the giddiest smile Kris has ever seen the bird monster sport. He even begins to jump up and down, taking Kris along with him, as he cackles. It is a surprisingly cute display that Kris finds themselves blushing a bit at. It’s nice to be this...cared about.

“I-I--We have to start thinking of outfits immediately!” Berdley blurts out, returning to their usual demeanor. “I was thinking of some complimentary color schemes on the way to school today which I will be happy to show you at lunchtime. I’m also a master with a sewing machine, so if you are unable to procure an outfit that meets the color requirements, I would be delighted to take your measurements and--w-wait, don’t read into that phrasing, I just m-meant that I could make an outfit for you! B-But I’d need your measurements, and--Oh, goodness, hasn’t class started already, Kris?! We should head back, but--” He looks from the door to Kris and back again a few times before finally settling on something.

“I’lltalktoyouaboutthislaterseeyouinclassKris!!!!!” He says this right before he gives Kris a solitary peck on the cheek before bolting out of the abandoned classroom, leaving Kris blinking at the Berdley-shaped cloud he left behind. Their hand gently grazes the spot on their cheek--luckily not actually pecked by his beak, but more of a quick-kiss kind of peck--and feel their heart skip a beat.

Huh.

That’s...different.

They elect to not dwell on that feeling any longer and head back to class. They have to make sure Susie hasn’t eaten all of the chocolate on that display.

They wouldn’t want to make Berdley go through the trouble of re-proposing just so they could rightfully claim their other sweet surprise.

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #kris/berdley #kris dreemurr #kris deltarune #berdley deltarune #ignorance cloud on #LORD FORGIVE ME FOR BEING CRINGE ON MAIN. I JUST LIKE THINKING THOUGHTS #LISTEN..........I JUST THINK ITD BE FUNNY. IF KRIS HAD THIS PATHETIC GAMER ALL HEART EYES OVER THEM #also the dance aspect is based on one of the posters you can see inside the school. i am Pretty sure that is what its called #if i was off by like a similar-sounding word i need everyone to do me a favor and pretend im right bc this is cringe enough already #i edited this ONCE at 3 AM last night. i am doing no more than that #anyways here u go izel enjoy ur food.

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pixielix · 3 years

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୭̥⋆*｡ royal christmas!au felix

pairing: prince!felix + gn journalist!reader genre: fluff, slight enemies-to-lovers word count: 1.7k warnings: none ― @districtninewriters’ winter fic exchange for the lovely @freckledberries

a/n: hey jules :] i’m so happy i could write this for u. ur someone who’s been so sweet to me since the very start, i’m so grateful for u !! i hope u have a merry christmas n happy holidays <3 love, angie

it’s infuriating that the prince still looks as good as he does in the world’s ugliest christmas sweater

he meanders through a crowd of thousands carrying a subtle air of grace that catches everyone’s eye and the kind of exuberant warmth that holds their attention

it feels like every movement he makes is filled with an intention to charm

one example is his habit of pushing back his hair after he bows

fingers weaving back through strands of strawberry blonde that gently frame his freckled cheeks

even you can’t deny he’s almost enchanting to watch

but it doesn’t make it any less excruciating that you’re being paid a mediocre wage to watch him smile and shake hands for hours on end

you don’t hate the prince, or anyone from the royal family really, but you hoped that your first assignment as a real journalist would be something that you’re actually passionate about

and unlike everyone else in the country, you really couldn’t care less about the royals

the feeling’s somewhat mutual

it’s a well-known fact that the royals are ‘indifferent’ to journalists

they say if the king had his way, he’d have banned every news outlet in the country years ago

maybe that’s why felix’s eyes shift to the opposite direction whenever he sees someone with a camera and a bright red press lanyard

so naturally, when you catch him trying to escape his own guards and make an early escape from the winter parade, his first instinct is to put on a charming smile and try to slither his way out of the situation

“your highness?” you find him straddling a wooden fence at the back of the park just as you’re stepping away from the crowded parade to get some air

his lips stretch into a bashful grin, avoiding your eyes as he swings one leg back over the fence and lands on both feet in front of you

“hey uh.. how did you know it was me?”

“the sweater” you point a finger at the the tinsel-covered, burgundy fabric still visible under the hem of his hoodie, unintentionally grimacing at the sight of it

“oh… is it that bad?”

“to be honest, it’s the ugliest thing i’ve ever seen. uh- no offense-” you blurt out, eyebrows knit together apologetically as soon as you realise you just insulted the prince

“none taken” he breathes a soft chuckle, “thank you for your honesty”

you both stand there in a stalemate for a few seconds, feet shuffling awkwardly in the snow as you carefully consider what comes next

felix’s eyes grow increasingly troubled as he realises how screwed he is if you rat him out to the guards, or worse, to the media

as desperate as he was to get away from the crowds and have the day to himself, ‘runaway prince’ wouldn’t be a good look

meanwhile, you have the thrilling realisation that if the prince were to somehow slip away, there’d be no need for you to stick around

sure you’d come back to the boss empty-handed, but at least you could save him and yourself from many more brain-numbing hours of smiling and shaking hands

“go.”

“what?”

“i won’t tell anyone, i promise” you assure him

“really? why should i trust you?” felix quirks his brow in suspicion as he leans back against the fence with arms crossed over his chest

“cause i want to get out of here just as badly as you do”

both of your heads whip around at the sound of footsteps approaching

“go.” you repeat firmly in a hushed tone

before he can argue, a group of his guards falls into view

“your highness, please, come back! just one more question!” you yell, but in the complete opposite direction of the park, diverting their attention and giving felix enough time to jump the fence and hide in the bushes

he peeks out and you turn back towards him with a relieved smile

“merry christmas” you mouth

all he can do is return the smile, watching speechlessly as you turn and walk away

the next time you’re assigned coverage of the prince’s activities is at the annual christmas eve performance of the nutcracker

once again, you find yourself watching from a distance as the prince captivates the crowd

taking the time to greet each of the young performers dressed as snowflakes and dewdrops with an enthusiastic high five

the lights dim as the performance starts and you use it as your chance to take a break from the noise

it doesn’t take long for you to notice a familiar young man in a hoodie walking slowly behind you down the empty corridor

“i’m supposed to be the one following you, you know”

“sorry i didn’t mean to- well i did but i-” felix stutters, frozen in place as you turn towards him

“i’m kidding. can i help you?” you smile with your head tilted and your hand on your hip

he scratches his neck, scrambling to remember the reason why he’d been looking for you in the first place

“um- oh! i uh- i didn’t get to thank you last time”

“for what?”

“helping me escape the parade”

“oh”, you smile and felix can swear he feels his heart start to tremble, “it’s no big deal”

“no really, you saved me, thank you” he bows deeply, only realising how overly courtly he’s being when he catches you stifling a laugh

“sorry” he blushes, “habit.”

without missing a beat, he threads his fingers back through soft tresses of blonde hair and you watch them fall perfectly over his handsome features

he’s even more enchanting up close

a few seconds pass as you both ponder the absurdity of a friendship between a prince and a journalist

but felix breaks the silence with the exact suggestion that you’ve been waiting for

“i’ve seen this performance of the nutcracker about twenty times before so i wasn’t really thinking of sticking around. did you want to…?”

“absolutely” you nod firmly and his eyes light up like stars

you tug the press lanyard from your neck as he holds open the exit door for you

“after you” he grins

“thank you, your highness-”

“felix.”

“thank you, felix”

as you get to know felix on a spontaneous trip to the outskirts of the city, it seems like everything you thought about him was wrong

the warmth and sweetness of his persona as the nation’s beloved ‘fairy prince’ is completely real

and despite only being the second-in-line, he still feels a strong sense of responsibility towards the country, especially to inspire and empower young people

seeing the way his face lights up in excitement when he gushes about all of the organisations that he’s taken up an ambassadorship with, you can’t help but start to admire him

he opens up to you about the struggles of growing up in the public eye and the media storms that almost tore his family apart

it’s no wonder that when felix invites you as his guest to the royal family’s christmas ball, it causes quite a stir

“no journalist has stepped foot inside the palace in the last fifty years, felix” you repeat, pacing frantically in your bedroom as he tries to calm you down over the phone

“you’re not coming as a journalist, you’re coming as my guest.”

“i can’t even dance!”

“i’ll teach you. you know i’ll look out for you, don’t you?”

“i know it’s just- are you sure about this? about me being there?”

“it has to be you.”

you can almost hear the smile in his voice, warm and reassuring

“okay… only if you’re sure”

“i’m sure. a hundred and one percent.”

the whole interior of the palace is more rustic and homely than you’d expected

and the music is lively, so are the laughs

his sisters are the most beautiful, sweetest girls you’ve ever met and your heart instantly feels warm in their presence

along with the hospitality of his parents (besides the occasional side-eye you get from the king)

in a conversation with one of his sisters, who speaks as fondly about felix as everyone else seems to, she mentions hearing about you

“my brother is an affectionate person, but i’ve never seen him gush about anyone as much as he has about you” she beams

flustered, you look over at him, only to find him looking straight back your way

leaning back against a wall with a glass in his hand, almost oblivious to the group of people that are circling him and instead fully focused on you

he hands his drink to one of his friends and proceeds to slowly walk away

but not before tilting his head and giving you a mischievous look that you immediately know the meaning of

let’s get out of here

“this is nothing like i imagined” you breathe shakily, following felix down the stairs as he leads you out of the ballroom

“what were you expecting?”

“chandeliers, statues, maybe a dragon” you laugh

“i wish” he sighs playfully as he nudges open a door to the outdoor courtyard

felix hurries a few steps ahead so that he can extend his hand to you as you step out onto the glacial footpath

but he ends up almost slipping over his own feet in the process, so you interlace arms and cling to each other for dear life

“ah-!” you stifle a squeal, instinctively tightening your grip on the sleeves of his flowy white dress shirt with every step you take

you glide around each other on the frosted concrete for a few seconds trying to regain your balance

“hey look, we’re sort of dancing” felix chuckles, twirling you under his arm with ease as you gently fall forwards and laugh against his chest

“i don’t think this counts”

“then let me teach you properly like i promised”

light snow continues to fall as you find your rhythm, guided by the soft echo of people clapping along to a lively acoustic beat inside the palace

“am i doing this right?” you ask softly as you watch your feet while carefully mirror his steps

“yeah” he whispers against your hair, warm breath tickling your ear, “you’re doing it perfectly”

the distant roaring of crowds indicates that it’s come to that part of the night where the royal family gives their christmas address to the public at the front of the palace

but felix just continues to hold you close, humming blissfully as if to drown out the noise

“i think the whole world’s waiting for you out there...”

he pulls away, just for a second, and looks at you with those doey brown eyes that seem to hold the expanse of the entire sky on the clearest winter night

“the world can wait”

m.list

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dayseternal-blog · 4 years

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Summary: She knit a red scarf for him. She never gave it to him. Days turned into months, months turned into too late.

Naruto starts dating. Hinata decides to move on.

A sickness takes root in the heart.

Inspired by SasuSaku fanfic “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake

Rating: Mature

Read Chapter 1: Smoke on her tongue

Read Chapter 2: He’s not a ghost

Read Chapter 3: Weeds

Read Chapter 4: Leave himself behind

Read Chapter 5: She’s always (still here)

Chapter 6: Much more than friends

The bustling activity of the hospital fades away as soon as they step outside. The silence between them magnifies in the bright sunlight.

She feels anxious, a small excitement fluttering about, as she follows him toward the road. Naruto has always done the unexpected, and with today, she thinks he’s really lived up to that reputation…

She has no idea what’s coming next for them.

It leaves her hopeful, so, so hopeful, that she doesn’t dare speak. Out of fear of disturbing this dream, any wrong word could turn all of it into a terrible joke.

Naruto stops.

She freezes behind him.

He turns around, looks directly at her, and feels his stomach drop straight to his feet. The question he wanted to ask forgotten.

She’s blushing so much, and it’s adorable.

He stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets, a reactive heat rising to his own face. The sudden onslaught of nerves makes him feel warm, as if someone just complimented him, and at the same time, he feels incredibly scatterbrained.

He feels like he can do anything or nothing.

Two steps away from remarkable or lost...

“Soo,” he regrettably starts, immediately and unfortunately finding himself weakly at her will, but he manages to continue, “...what are you doing now?”

“Oh, I, I guess I should meet up with my family...at the...cemetery. It should be about that time.” She sounds so soft, even to her own ears, she’s not sure if he could hear her.

But he nods. “Right...right.” Since the moment Hinata entered his room, he pretty much forgot what today was. So much happened just this morning, it’s a surprise that it’s still afternoon.

She peers up at him, trying to gauge his expression...muted, thoughtful. She decides against telling him that she went without him earlier. She knows the reason now why he didn’t show up, and she doesn’t want to make him feel bad about something that wasn’t in his control.

His disease, his explanation for it, it’s all something she still can’t quite wrap her mind around. And she’ll dedicate time to mull over it later, but for now… “Would you like to come with me?”

“With your family?” he asks, a hand swinging up to work the uncertainty from his neck.

“Mhm,” she quietly affirms. “They won’t mind. I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

He didn’t get a chance to go earlier, and he really does need to pay a visit. Maybe without the flowers, he’s seen enough flowers for awhile...Neji would understand...Neji probably doesn’t actually care about the flowers, right? And if Hinata’s family won’t be bothered by him... “Sure, yeah, thanks.”

She hums a disagreement at his appreciation. He doesn’t owe her that, it should be a matter of course that he would be invited.

He smiles at her.

And with the way his gaze lingers on her as they start walking once more, fluffed cotton fills her legs, her stomach, her head, and she feels she may be nothing more than a cloud in the sky. Any slight breeze from him would send her clear in any direction he pleases.

It’s headying.

It’s frightening.

Though no one gives them much of a passing glance, she wonders, what others must think of them together? How much distance between them is appropriate? How much distance was there before today?...Are they now more than friends?

So whenever thrust into an unexpected, socially nerve-wracking situation, her hands find each other, clasping together tightly.

His fingers interlace behind his neck, cradling his head, walking as if lying back in the grass. It’s always been a tried-and-true way to appear as relaxed as possible, even if he feels far from it. “You…” He frowns at the sky. “...didn’t go this morning, did you?” he finishes quietly.

“Ah...I did.”

She went. Of course she did. It’s Hinata, and she’s always been reliable like that. And he...he didn’t go. His guilt darkens even the blue sky above. “Sorry...I wasn’t there.”

“Oh no. You were in the hospital after all.”

“Yeah but still. Sorry, Hinata.”

She hums another disagreement quietly, trusting that the nearing view of the cemetery will lighten the air between them with shared purpose.

Murmurings from somber crowds carry over the field. Families pray around headstones. Little gifts and flowers decorate every grave across the field.

But despite the numerous people, Naruto sees that no one pays him any mind. It’s a welcome surprise.

And their presence seems to be a welcome surprise, too, for the rest of her family.

Hanabi’s eyes widen. “Oh, Nee-sama, we would have waited for you, but none of us knew where you went!”

“I’m sorry, I was helping Sakura-chan at the hospital. Naruto-kun was there, too, and I invited him with us.”

He takes this as his cue, slightly dipping his head in a bow, awkwardly, to her stoic family.

In the following beat of silence, his eyes draw directly to the only reaction...Hanabi’s expression: brows arched high, a quick glance at her older sister, mouthing a silent ohh. A look that sends self-conscious warmth to his cheeks.

“Thank you for coming today.” Hiashi is as serious as usual, but the words sound genuine.

He nods, for lack of anything else to say. In front of all of her family, some he knows by name, some strangers, all of them in quiet appreciation of the moment, he can’t help feeling a little out of place, like their collective pressure on him just forces him to shut up. Unlike other families, noisier in their prayers and conversation, the Hyuuga are quiet. Silently cleaning and visiting graves of others besides Neji who were lost in the war.

Hinata has always been quiet.

And as he expected, this is the quiet family she’s grown up in.

The people who raised her into the person she is today.

Like Neji.

Hinata mentioned to him in passing the things Neji had done for her. Helping her perfect a move, build stamina, assist her when she strained her eyes. When he asked why she calls Neji “Nii-san,” she explained that he was more of a brother to her than a cousin. She said she understands why it might sound silly to others, since during the chuunin exams, in front of everyone, he so vocally demeaned her. How maybe to others, it might sound silly that even through that difficult part of their relationship, she still saw him as her brother.

He quickly reassured her that “No, it’s not silly. I get it, believe me.” He understood. Perhaps better than anyone else ever could.

She looked at him, eyes, usually so pale, shining warm. She smiled. Her head tilted, her bangs sweeping over, the white skin of her forehead peeking through. “Sasuke-san?”

He smiled, too. “Yeah.” That asshole of a brother.

She nodded, her gaze drifting back to Neji’s grave, her smile muting to something lonely.

He remembers he wanted to hug her, words failing him when he could imagine what such a loss would feel like. He can still remember back on that time when he was afraid that he really did lose Sasuke. He turned his fear into determination to get him back...but Hinata can’t do the same. And in that moment, he wanted to hold her tight.

But he didn’t hug her, didn’t touch her. The very ache in his limbs to feel her weight solidly against his body, to squeeze her and never let go, made him freeze up. He couldn’t gather the courage to do it and he didn’t know why that would be so, when he’s touched her before.

He knows why, now. Aware of the heaviness in his heart, of how her loss felt like his own loss, of why standing next to her now makes him feel obscure, fuzzy, eclipsed by her.

The immediate thought that follows, each time, and he thinks he’ll never get over it, that it could have been her. It could have been her, and he always sensed that that loss would have left him utterly, terribly helpless, a million times worse than losing Neji.

“Thank you” will never be enough.

But he prays it over and over. Thank you. Thank you, thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Neji.

It’s endless, a prayer never meant to find closure or be restricted by time.

Yet the sun begins to burn low, and Hiashi approaches their quiet vigil. “Naruto. If you are available, please join us for dinner. We would be honored to have you.”

Her father’s kind offer is surprising, and it brings her so much happiness to know that his attitude toward Naruto has changed with the rest of the village. “Yes, Naruto-kun, please join us,” she quietly adds, hoping he can hear her sincerity.

He gapes at their invitation. No one’s parents ever invited him over. None of the adults liked him, maybe except Iruka-sensei, but his old teacher claimed once that he’s not much good at cooking, so they always just ate out.

Hinata watches his hesitation, wondering.

Naruto studies the man’s stoic expression. Does her father really want him for dinner? He’s probably just asking out of courtesy... “That’s really kind of you, Hiashi-san, but I need to head to the Tower before it gets too late.”

She tries not to let her disappointment show. He had been saying since earlier that he wanted to get back to work.

“Sorry, Hinata.”

“Oh, no...” She supposes she was never any good at hiding her feelings from him.

Hiashi nods. “You must be busy. Thank you for joining us today.”

“No, thank you for allowing me to join your family today, Hiashi-san.”

Her family starts heading off down the street, away from the cemetery gates, but she lingers behind.

Everything that Naruto said to her at the hospital was clearly direct, leaving no room for confusion. So why does she feel unfinished?

“Your family is leaving-” he starts.

“I know.” She looks up at him, as if his face will clarify her incomplete thoughts.

He takes in her soft gaze and soaks her attention in. He doesn’t really want to go. He doesn’t want her to walk away, either. “Hinata…”

“Naruto-kun?”

He reaches out uncertainly, his hand folding with hers, his grip light. He held her hand in the hospital. But suddenly, out here, it’s just...different. As if the soft connection is a thin thread, gently tugging at his heart, pulling it toward their entwined fingers.

It’s a familiar warmth. She never got used to holding Susumu’s hand, probably because she was always comparing it to this. Naruto’s warmth almost feels natural against her. She dares to think that it’s meant to be. It’s where she always wanted to be, after all.

“...Let’s meet up again.”

She nods, her gaze leaving their hands to look into his eyes.

Her earnest expression makes his heart squeeze, his grip on her smaller hand tighten. “I don’t know when, though.”

She nods again. That's just how mission schedules are. “Then, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah.”

She lets go of him reluctantly, backing away to rejoin her family, when she remembers. “Um, Naruto-kun?”

He perks up. “Yeah?”

“Happy birthday."

He shyly grins. “Thanks.” He’s not exactly sure if “happy” is the most accurate way to describe today, but it’s certainly been an unforgettable one.

She smiles a little more, taking in his warm expression, before reluctantly starting to turn around. She holds his gaze for one last second, then steps away to catch up to her family.

Naruto slowly turns toward the Tower. Some steps forward, though, has him glancing back, catching her looking back at him, too. Warmth rises to his face, as pink visibly tinges her cheeks. He smiles through it, widely, and turns around fully to wave at her.

She reddens even more. She waves a little, too, shyly, before turning around for good, dashing away.

She’s so cute.

And he’s so happy.

Kakashi puts him right to work.

He’s thankful for it. It’s such a relief to stretch out his muscles, to move, to get his chakra circulating and working in a healthy, normal way, to finally feel like his body is his own and not a victim to a force larger than himself.

That force being...death.

Missions remind him that he’s young and...not dying. Work makes him feel like he’s a functioning adult, doing what he’s supposed to do.

He remembers how he felt before. That month of confusion that led to anger, that spiraled into depression. A month of...kind of just...getting worse and worse and worse, and it was so completely unlike him. No energy. No direction. No sense of self-worth. He didn’t recognize himself.

He doesn’t even really know how to reflect on the whole thing.

Thing. He really doesn’t know what else to make of it.

The descent seemed to happen so slowly, and suddenly he was in the thick of his disease before he realized it.

Then as quick as a snap, he was fine.

...That, too, his cure…

He never gets too far in his reflection on everything he’s been through because he always pictures her soft, pink smile when they parted ways at the cemetery. She has the softest smile he’s ever seen, and he can’t wait to see her again, he just, can’t, wait.

He needs to verify her feelings again with his own two eyes and ears. With his hands, too. He’ll hold her hand again and maybe he can hug her. Maybe he can hold her.

He wants to hug her.

The thought always leave a vacancy he can feel against his body, like she should already be there in his arms but isn’t.

On a mission like this, even with a fun teammate like Shikamaru, he finds himself thinking about her in a moment of downtime. Thinking about when they’ll meet again and what it will be like.

It’s real.

His feelings for her are an excitement and distraction quite apart from anything he ever felt for his past girlfriends.

...He pretty much never thought about Rumi while on a mission.

...Rumi…

He tries not to think about her at all. The memory of her makes him feel like a piece of shit.

He really sucked. He couldn’t even be a decent person, he really…

Anyway, he should just focus on his mission.

He’s been really busy, and she knows she needs to be patient.

But she can’t help but wonder if she’s just his next girl. She knows that just a week ago, when he told her that he loves her, she thought that he didn’t need to prove anything to her. She knows that she’s supposed to trust him, after all, Sakura told her so, too.

She knows that she needs to not make any assumptions and just put her faith in him.

But...wasn’t it fast? Between his breakup with Rumi and his confession to her, wasn’t it...just...fast? She’s not sure exactly when he broke up with her, but Sakura would have told her something, probably, or the rumors would have traveled before Naruto would have gotten a chance to tell her. She thinks at the most, maybe a week passed since they broke up?

And, and! Between Kanae and Rumi! A little over one month. She thought that was fast, too…

She thought a lot of things.

She wondered if Rumi, a girl he seemed to hardly know, might be a quick relationship, like Kanae was. But Naruto and Rumi went out all the time. They seemed effortlessly happy together, going out on so many dates. They were seen all over town, eating meals at trendy restaurants, looking...cute...as everyone said.

And Naruto tells her now that dating Rumi was a mistake?

What exactly did he mean by that?

Is it because he was...jealous…...that she was with Susumu? And he got sick because of that? He...got...sick?

She even asked Sakura on a day-off what Naruto’s illness was really all about.

Sakura said almost the same things Naruto had said, just with more technical language.

That should be “proof” enough for her, right?

Somehow, it’s not enough.

...She needs to be patient.

She’s heading out on a mission with Kiba, Akamaru, and Shino when she notices Naruto with Shikamaru, making their way toward the Hokage Tower.

She doesn’t have time to wonder how to react when he completely stops in his tracks, obviously assesses that she’s leaving the village, and then runs right up to her. “Hinata! How long?”

She can sense Kiba’s and Shino’s curiosity. She wonders, too, at how obvious Naruto is making himself. But it’s also incredibly reassuring to know that he was hoping to meet up with her. “It’s just a one-way escort mission, estimated at nearly a week long.”

He nods, frowning, disappointment clutching his gut. “Alright.” He looks up to finally acknowledge her teammates. “Be safe, guys.”

Kiba smirks. “‘Course, man.”

Shino nods his appreciation.

“I’ll see you guys around when you get back.” Naruto’s gaze pauses on her, and she senses that he wants her to do more than just nod in agreement.

She tentatively smiles, hoping that he’ll smile back.

He does, a gentle one that she’s seen before from him on rare occasions.

It’s always made her heart flutter. She bites her lips, then responds, “We’ll be back soon, Naruto-kun.”

“‘Kay.” He takes a step back, knowing that he’s holding her team up from leaving.

She reluctantly turns around, waving goodbye as he waves a bit, too.

Kiba and Shino have the strangest look on their faces, like they’re thinking about a lot of things.

They don’t divulge their thoughts to her, but she knows their worry.

It’s her own concern, too, after all.

Be careful. But I can trust myself, too. And I can trust him...and be careful.

She wants to hurry back home, but as soon as they were ready to leave the Land of Water, a typhoon hit. All ships are docked until the typhoon passes and clears the surrounding waters.

So as rain lashes at the windows, they stay holed up in their accommodations, drinking tea and waiting out the storm.

Shino’s been unusually quiet.

She herself has had her own troubles, but both her teammates seem to already know that it’s regarding a certain old classmate of theirs (nothing new). However with Shino, who so rarely seems to have a problem he doesn’t already know how to deal with, she’s been wondering what could possibly be bothering him. So she asks directly, “What’s on your mind, Shino-kun?”

“Yeah, buddy, what’s on your mind?” Kiba and Akamaru jump onto a bed to listen in.

Shino adjusts his sunglasses. He takes a breath. “I have a decision to make.” He looks at them and sees that they’re listening. “I’m thinking of applying for the education program.”

Kiba’s eyes widen. “To teach at the Academy? That’s awesome!”

“...The application deadline is in two months.”

In two months?... “Good luck, Shino-kun. I know you’ll make a great teacher!”

“You’ll make a fantastic teacher! They’ll call you ‘Shino-sensei!’ like that,” Kiba cheers.

Shino looks between them, a tiny, amused smile on. “But I am hesitant. The reason is it would mean that I would not be able to go on regular missions with both of you anymore.”

Hinata and Kiba exchange looks, knowing that they both had already thought of that.

Kiba moves beside him, swinging an arm around Shino. “Listen, you’ll make the greatest teacher, even better than Iruka-sensei! Of course I’ll miss working with you, but, this is a great opportunity. And Hinata and I would never want to hold you back.”

Hinata is thankful for Kiba’s encouraging tones. It’s putting her in the right mindset, too. “Kiba-kun is right. We would never want to keep you from reaching for your goals. Do your best! We’ll be cheering for you all the way!”

“Thank you. I’ll miss both of you,” Shino says.

She shakes her head. “We’ll never be far away.”

“We’ll come and be guest instructors!” Kiba offers.

“Yes!” Hinata agrees. “We’ll always be your team.”

“Thank you.” His voice is heavy, emotional.

They smile together, and she feels tears coming on, but she doesn’t let them fall. She supposes they all knew this would eventually happen. The possibility of disbandment as they entered adulthood only increases with new responsibilities, new windows of opportunity, and challenges presented.

She just didn’t know it would happen so soon.

Sometimes she feels like it was only yesterday when she was selected for Kurenai’s Team 8. Sometimes it feels like a forever ago when the four of them were tasked with finding Madam Shijimi’s cat.

For the entire way home, they reminisce on their trainings and missions together and make promises to continue meeting up whenever they can.

It’s bittersweet.

To realize, not for the first time, how wonderful her team is. To hold so much excitement for Shino’s next stage in life. To hear Kiba’s plans for the future. To wonder about her own.

Maybe become a jounin sensei?

Maybe eventually work at the Academy, too?

To see that…

So much time has passed. She really has grown.

And she still has so much of life ahead of her. There’s no rush at all.

It’s a stroke of luck to see her coming out of the Hokage Tower. She’s smiling, looking well. She bends over to pet Akamaru.

She straightens and looks toward him, despite the distance.

So she knew that I was-- He bites down on that memory and runs forward to meet them. “You’re finally back!”

“We got held up in the Land of Water due to a typhoon,” Kiba answers.

“Good thing you guys didn’t get caught in it.” He nods at Kiba briefly before turning his attention back to Hinata. “How was the mission?”

She almost wants to shrink away from his obvious, directed attention. It’s almost too strong. But no, she wants this. She really wants this. “It went well. There was one scuffle along the way, but they weren’t a problem for us.”

“Yeah, I bet you beat them up easily.”

She blushes at his confidence in her. It’s almost like from before...It reminds her of those times before he started dating.

Shino clears his throat. “Are you hungry, Naruto? The reason is, we’re going out to get lunch together.”

“Oh yeah?” He was planning on trying to get Hinata alone, but this is almost just as good. “Can I join?”

“No! No, no.” Kiba leans forward, his voice cutting Shino off. “We’re doing Team bonding, and if you come along, you’ll just ignore us and try to hog all of Hinata’s attention!”

Naruto frowns. Yeah, he probably would’ve but… “The three of you were together for the past week! More than a week! Isn’t that enough bonding time?” he protests. “Plus, Shino was about to invite me!” He looks at the quiet guy for affirmation.

But Shino suddenly looks as silent as a rock.

Naruto’s jaw drops in disbelief and betrayal. “Shino!”

“The reason is that Kiba is right.”

He rolls his eyes and looks at Hinata. “Hinata? You’re just going to let these guys treat me like this?”

She’s still absolutely red from Kiba’s sudden and shameless words. It’s the first time he’s verbally acknowledged Naruto’s attentions toward her in almost a year, out of consideration for her feelings. “Oh, I would like to, Naruto-kun, but…” She looks at Shino. “We’re not going to be Team 8, officially, for much longer. Shino-kun is going into education.”

Naruto looks at the usually stoic bug boy. This guy? With kids? A sensei? “What?! No way! Shino?!”

“He’s going to be a wonderful teacher,” Hinata states solidly, not leaving any room for him to not believe her any further.

He nods, getting used to the idea. Certainly unexpected, but has Shino ever been anything other than surprising? “That’s really awesome.” And he means it.

“Thank you, Naruto.” Shino looks like maybe he’s smiling.

And so he takes a step back from them, now completely understanding what’s going on. What wouldn’t he do to have just one more meal with his team, as if time never happened? “Hinata.”

“Yes?”

“Tonight? Dinner?”

She tries not to feel Kiba and Shino’s stares boring into her as she gives a quiet hum of affirmation.

“I’ll see you at your place around 6, then.”

“Okay.” She tries not to look as shy as she feels because Naruto doesn’t seem shy at all. And she needs to do her best to keep up with him.

“Great! Have a good lunch then, guys.” He waves his goodbye and heads off.

And then it strikes her.

She’s having a date with Naruto.

She’s really having an actual date with her longtime love.

He simply asked her out like no big deal, like this was the idea all along, and that the two of them are really, actually--

“So the two of you are a thing?” Kiba bluntly asks.

She turns to look at him, blinking out her disbelief. “I think so.”

Kiba seems to hold back a frown. “What do you mean, you ‘think so’?”

“I mean, he…” Self-consciousness floods her, but Kiba and Shino are both waiting expectantly for her explanation. So she quietly continues, “...said he loves me.”

Kiba and Shino exchange looks, nodding.

“Well, that’s what we’ve thought for a long time,” Kiba states before leading them away from the Tower.

Hinata stares at them, finding their simple acceptance incredible. She really wasn’t the only one who felt there was something between them. But she can’t help needing that affirmation even more. It’s still something she can’t wrap her mind around. “You both thought that?”

“Yes, the reason is that Naruto has always paid more attention to you than any of us.”

She looks away, shyness warming her face. So it wasn’t her imagination? “...but…” Self-doubt rears up, making her feel suddenly slightly nauseous. “He dated others.”

“Oh yeah, Hinata,” Kiba starts, the roll of his eyes practically audible, “You could’ve…” His hands turn up in a shrug. “I dunno...tried to save his life a couple of times. Hold his hand in front of the enemy and the entire Shinobi Alliance. Eat out with him all by yourselves.” He gives her a pointed look. “And he wouldn’t have the faintest idea that any of it was romantic. Hm. I wonder why...maybe because he’s an idiot?”

She stares at him, processing his sarcasm, and Shino lets out the quietest cough of a laugh. She pouts at both of them for making fun of Naruto, but Shino clears his throat, obviously ready to launch into a long explanation.

And she really does want to hear it. Because, if anything, she has always interpreted Kiba’s list to mean that Naruto simply never returned her feelings.

“The reason is Naruto does what feels right, and if the outcome is fine, he will continue to move forward without reflection. Unless you force him to stop by questioning his actions, he will articulate neither his reasoning nor his purpose outside of the obvious goals, and he will not consider or care about how others might perceive him, so long as he was able to manipulate the situation to meet his ends. The reason is--”

“Naruto’s a gigantic idiot,” Kiba interrupts.

“--because Naruto thinks he has nothing to lose,” Shino continues, unfazed. “Therefore he acts accordingly, always behaving as rashly as possible, not realizing that anyone might value him as much as he values others.”

“Or that,” Kiba tags on in agreement.

“The reason for that is,” Shino says with a sense of finality, “not very many people have stopped him to ask for his opinion.”

“What? He’s always airing his opinions.”

Hinata shakes her head at Kiba’s denial. “No, I...I think I understand.”

“Did you ever ask him why he held your hand in the war?”

Her eyes widen at Shino’s question. Of course she hadn’t! How could she ever ask a question like that?!

“Did you ever ask him what he thought of your self-sacrifice?”

“No!” she defends. “That’s embarrassing, I couldn’t have asked something like that! And...and I didn’t do any of that expecting anything from him.”

Even with his dark sunglasses on, she can see Shino’s measured look.

Kiba lets out a big sigh. “Hinata...those exes were pushier than you. And, I don’t mean this in a bad way or anything, but, well, it’s not like, uhh, well, I mean, Naruto’s an idiot, so, anyway, I get what Shino’s saying, y’know, Shino’s right, like, Naruto didn’t know you value him.”

She blinks at him, feeling inexplicably hurt, recognizing that they’re putting some amount, however small, of blame on her. “But...I didn’t know he values...me…”

They pause outside of Yakiniku Q.

“And that’s why we didn’t say anything about this when you were dating Susumu! He’s ‘pushier’ than Naruto! You knew for sure that he at least valued you, it was obvious to you, and we thought it was good for you! Both you and Naruto are the same!” Kiba’s voice had risen enough that other pedestrians glance their way.

But she doesn’t take much notice of them. Their words are putting all of her decisions, all of her choices to back away, to give Naruto space, to listen instead of probe, to watch instead of interrupt, into a different perspective. She did that because she respected his decisions. So are they saying it was wrong of her? “I...didn’t know…”

“Yeah. We know. ‘S not your fault, Hinata, Naruto’s an idiot after all.” Kiba leads them into the restaurant, and the hostess takes them to their table.

When they’re seated, Kiba continues, “And anyway, the two of you are together now, so it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

She tilts her head, wondering if it’s true that it doesn’t “really matter”...

“I’m happy for you, Hinata.” Shino smiles at her.

She gratefully returns his smile.

“Yeah, we’ve all been waiting for this,” Kiba jokes. “Hinata, you have no idea, but this has been a long time coming between the two of you. Good luck with him.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs. Maybe Kiba’s right. Maybe it doesn’t really matter what happened before, who they dated, and what they thought the other was thinking. Because the truth is that...they love each other?

It’s a truth she’ll be able to experience later, and she’s left breathless in anticipation of the unknown. Logically, she shouldn’t feel nervous because she knows him so much better than she ever knew Susumu...but still…

Kiba snaps his fingers in her face. “Hey, focus on us.”

Her expression pulls down in an embarrassed frown. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” She shakes her head.

Shino nods. “You’re just happy.”

She ponders that for a second. She was thinking, more nervous or worried, but… She agrees. “I am. But not just because of Naruto-kun. I’m so happy that I have you two as my teammates.”

Hinata knows that they feel the same way as her by their surprised yet pleased smiles. They were and are lucky to have each other. She couldn’t have asked for a better team.

Kiba huffs out a breath. “Before I start crying, let’s order some food.”

“Agreed,” Shino states, unfolding the menu.

She laughs, so, so, so appreciative.

No matter what happens to them in their futures, she’ll always have Team 8.

He restlessly waits outside, arriving much earlier than acceptable.

He’s been waiting for this for almost exactly two weeks. And he’s readier than he’s ever been for a date.

Because he knows exactly what to do to make her happy. He has a lot of money in his wallet. He’ll compliment her when she comes out. He’ll hold the door to let her in first, he’ll pay, and he’ll walk her home. And at the end of it all, maybe he’ll get to hug her, hold her, like he’s been yearning for, but only if she seems open to it.

Only if she wants to.

He won’t rush this.

He’ll make sure she understands how serious he is.

Because despite the break-ups, he’s learned. And he’s not going to mess this up with Hinata. He completely understands what he’s doing with her and what this means for them, and, he’s not just doing this for fun, or because she asked him to, or to have a girl flatter his ego.

He’s doing this because...

He hears quiet footsteps coming from beyond the wall.

The gate pulls open.

And she steps out with a tentative expression that lights up into the shyest, cutest smile he’s only ever seen on her.

He takes a deep breath, grinning, unable to contain his excitement.

“I’m sorry to make you wait.”

“Oh no,” he dismisses. “I got here too early. I hope I didn’t rush you.”

She shakes her head. The truth is, she had gotten ready really early, too. It was a surprise to see him outside when she thought she was just being too impatient.

He feels giddy, like they have so much to do, but he knows now that dates need to be taken at the girl’s pace. That, in general, his ideas aren’t the most reliable, and that he should just let the girl pick. He tries his best to calm all of the adrenaline dancing in his veins. “Anywhere you want to go?”

She blinks at him. “Oh. Um…” She hadn’t thought about it at all. She had assumed that since Naruto asked her to dinner, he had someplace in mind? Like Ichiraku?... “I don’t really know...”

“Anywhere is fine, Hinata!” he encourages. “Don’t worry about me, I’m up for anything.”

She bites her lips, still surprised, not ready to think of a good place for their first date. “Um…”

He watches her smile slip into a look of discomfort. And he realizes just as quickly...he fucking forgot. In his excitement, he forgot to compliment her. Kanae always wanted to see if he noticed her efforts. Is it too late to say something?... He looks her over to see if he needs to comment on her fashion choice. She’s wearing her comfy-looking jacket, appropriate for a chilly night. He remembers what she wore with her old boyfriend...how she looked...different...yet tonight, she looks like she normally does. Jealousy pinches his gut, but he forces that down. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he dressed any differently.

Just in case, he should say something, especially if that’s why she’s being so hesitant. And, anyway, it’s not a lie, either. No matter what she’s wearing, no matter if she’s clean or dirty from a mission, no matter if her hair is up or down, it makes no difference to him. “Hinata, you’re beautiful.”

She pulls out of her worries at the compliment.

His gaze is focused on her so intently.

Warmth seizes her face faster than anything else. How could he say something like that to her so casually without warning? Isn’t that too much? She wasn’t even paying attention! Embarrassment has her shaking her head, shrinking back a step, refusing to look him in the eyes again.

Her reaction isn’t what he expected. Instead of a coy, pleased expression, she looks like she honestly doesn’t believe him! “You are beautiful, Hinata.” Maybe she doesn’t believe him because she didn’t dress up? “You’re always beautiful.”

She gapes at him. Naruto has never lied to her. She has no reason to not believe that he actually feels that way. She squeezes herself together, trying to gather her wits about her. It’s hardly two minutes into their first date, and she’s already falling apart like she can’t handle him. Naruto deserves better from her.

She takes a deep breath and forces herself to really face him. Kiba told her that Naruto never knew how much she values him. And right now seems to be the time to start making amends. She steadies her gaze on his openly warm expression and finds the sparkling blue of his eyes. “Naruto-kun, you’re the one who’s beautiful.”

He squints at her. “What?” he can’t help bluntly asking, a weird grimace cracking open.

“I mean it,” she quietly asserts, trying desperately to keep her blush at bay.

He shakes his head and lets out an awkward laugh. “Don’t joke like that with me, Hinata, that’s not nice...so anyway, is there anywhere you want to go?”

She blinks, jarred by how quickly he dismissed her heartfelt confession. “I...I guess...Ramen Ichiraku would be nice.”

His brows furrow. Why would she want to go there? Is she just saying that because she knows it’s his favorite? Why won’t she tell him where she wants to go?

She doesn’t trust him enough?

She didn’t like that he called her beautiful, and then she turned it into a joke, too… Excitement begins to fade into worry. Why… “Hinata...we eat there all the time, it’s not special to you. You don’t have to choose that for me,” he awkwardly mumbles out.

She tilts her head and frowns, realizing the way she worded her request. “I do want to go to Ramen Ichiraku,” she repeats, simply and clearly. She knows for certain that they’ll both like it.

“Uh, okay,” he relents. And then unwilling to risk making more mistakes, he starts leading them away from the compound.

They walk together, and he tries to find words for conversation, but suddenly, he doesn’t know what to say. He’s already somehow messed up because of course he would mess up. So he shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps his focus on the road.

After a few streets of unusually discomforting silence from him, she can only conclude that he’s bothered. She gathers her confidence together. “Naruto-kun? Do you not want to go to Ichiraku?” Maybe he actually wanted someplace fancier? Maybe his tastes have changed?

He shrugs. “You know I always want to go there,” he admits. “I just don’t want us to be going there if you don’t actually want to go.”

She...she was clear wasn’t she? She stated very clearly that she wants to go, didn’t she? “I want to go, Naruto-kun. I like their ramen a lot-” She recalls his earlier hesitation. “-And I think Ramen Ichiraku is special.” She smiles at him. “It’s your favorite. That makes it a special place to me, too.”

He processes her explanation, the reasoning almost too simple to accept. “So...I’m not, like, forcing you or anything, right?”

She smiles wider, unsure of where he’s getting the silly idea that he might be forcing her. “Of course not. If I didn’t want to go, I wouldn’t have chosen them.”

She’s saying that like it should’ve been obvious to him… It should’ve been. He forgot that Hinata’s always been easily uncomplicated with him.

“We’ve eaten there together before, like you said, Naruto-kun. And we’ve always had a good time there, right?”

He nods, recalling the same memories that she’s referring to. It’s sudden, a soothing balm over his nerves. Those times back then...she enjoyed them, too.

“It’s a good place,” she summarizes happily. “It’s a special place for me.”

Not that he wasn’t certain before, but he’s even more, completely, totally sure.

He really wants this to go well. Not just nicely, either. He wants Hinata to have the perfect date with him.

But he has no idea now how he’s supposed to make that happen. The date didn’t start off the way he thought it would. It’s not going the way he thought it would.

Hinata’s not acting the way he thought she would…

Instead, she’s acting the way she’s always been.

Has it been so long since he hung out with her? That he forgot how easy it is to just be with her...no need for plans or strategies...that whatever he thought, well, Hinata makes it so much better than that? “You’re really amazing,” he sighs out.

She shakes her head, believing him to be exaggerating over nothing. “Everyone knows how much you love their ramen, Naruto-kun.” She peeks up at his gaze, glad to see that he seems slightly more relaxed than earlier.

The storefront comes into view.

“I really did expect that we would be going here tonight,” she continues. “My heart’s been prepared, I was thinking about this all afternoon,” she laughs, breezing over the fact that it wasn’t really Ichiraku, but spending time with Naruto, that was on her mind.

He perks up at her giggle. “My heart never even needs to get prepared, I could walk here in my sleep!”

She nods, knowing full well that he probably already has. “Have you come in the middle of the night before?”

He raises his brows, grinning a What do you think?, and she laughs as they take seats at the counter of the familiar establishment. “Hinata, I’ve come here at every single hour, if not every single minute, on the clock.”

She considers that his obsession sounds a little worrisome, but it’s also just so him. “That’s impressive!”

“Yeah, it is,” he brags, proud of being a round-the-clock customer.

Ayame comes over to them, cheerily smiling. “Naruto, Hinata, welcome!”

“Ayame-neechan, long time no see!”

“It has been a long time, hasn’t it? Now, what shall I get for you two?”

“I’ll get the large miso ramen with extra char siu.”

“I would like the same thing, please.”

His eyes widen, and he turns to stare at her.

“Got it! Please wait for just a moment,” Ayame promises before hurrying off.

Hinata notices his shock, understands that it probably has to do with her order, but she still asks, “Ah, yes?”

He clutches his jacket over his heart, incredibly thankful to be here with her. “You’re really amazing,” he reiterates, not knowing how else to articulate himself.

She hesitantly explains, “I had all afternoon to think about what I’d want.”

He nods, recalling the last time they ate here together, just the two of them. “I almost forgot how much you can eat.”

She blushes, knowing it’s not exactly the most ladylike thing, but to the utmost of effort, they came all this way here, she might as well take the opportunity to eat. “I-I thought it would be better if I just get the large serving this time instead of smaller servings.”

“Yeah, Hinata, I love it,” he bluntly states. Then repeats as realization hits him, “I love it.”

Shyness freezes over her, and she timidly looks up at him. She can remember the last time they came...

He expressed enthusiasm about her order for another serving, saying, “Wow, you’re eating a lot, Hinata!”

And she fumbled out in excuse, “I guess I’m just hungry…” She actually just wanted to extend their time together.

He smiled widely, bright-eyed, excited, and eagerly ordered more for himself, too.

But this time, he carries that serious expression from earlier and leans down, ducking his head to be eye-level with her. “Hinata, I love you.”

She can see vulnerability there, a precious, precious balance of uncertainty and trust. Bare and unaffected. He really means it. Even at such a sudden moment as this, or maybe because it’s in such an inconsequential, unplanned moment, she knows he means it. He really wants her to know it. Emotion wells up, leaving no room for air, she can’t breathe, she can’t speak.

He straightens, starting to wonder at her silence, beginning to notice that he was expecting a response.

What he was expecting...the lack of anything empties him. “So uh Shino wants to become a teacher?”

She blinks at the sudden topic. She can’t let this happen again. Kiba was right. She hesitantly pulls on the sleeve of his jacket and draws herself closer.

Otherwise he won’t be able to hear her over the hammering in her heart.

She averts her eyes, feels the blush spreading over her face, and whispers, “I love you.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a second and lets an easing breath out.

This somehow felt so much harder than her confession two weeks ago at his bedside, but the accompanying fluttering warmth here is much, much nicer.

She settles back in her seat. Her gaze flicks up to his.

He smiles shyly, his pulse resetting double the pace as color floods his being.

He didn’t quite realize it, he had no idea how wonderful it would feel to hear those words returned to him.

He just carelessly tossed a part of himself out to her, expecting something, not knowing he expected those words, that exact piece of her given in exchange.

And it glows in him.

She can see it, just as much as she can feel the same blossoming within her. She thinks that if only he could see himself, he would see how beautiful he really is. She realizes she can’t let him get away without knowing she was being honest. If she needs to work on letting him know how much she values him, she’s the one who needs to prove herself to him, not the other way around... “Naruto-kun,” she whispers. She can feel herself growing even warmer. “I really do think you’re beautiful.”

Sudden self-consciousness grips him, and he focuses on her.

But she doesn’t let his puzzled expression deter her, not this time. “Your smile is beautiful. Your determination is beautiful.” She looks away, down at the counter, as her bashfulness fights against boldness. “Your laugh, and your bravery, and how you treat everyone...I think everything about you is beautiful.”

She timidly looks up to see his reaction, but he’s looking away now. A hand works obvious discomfort from the back of his neck.

It reminds him of Rumi’s blind admiration. Hinata doesn’t set him up on a pedestal, too, does she? She’s always been kind to him, built him up in ways that others haven’t, but still...

“You are,” she whispers again, wondering now if she was too forward.

Certainly she thinks so...she actually wasn’t joking earlier...but he knows better about himself. He shines a quick smile at her. “Thanks.”

She can tell he’s deflecting. After all the times she’s done that with Susumu, of course she would know. She tries to think of a way to respond when a cry of “Oh, isn’t that Naruto-senpai!” and hushed murmurings behind them catch her attention.

“I haven’t seen him in so long!”

“Should we go over and talk to him?”

“It looks like he’s with someone, though?”

“That’s not Rumi.”

“Didn’t they break up?”

“I think so--”

She shuts them out, second-guessing how “hushed” they’re actually trying to be. They want him to notice, don’t they...

He hears them, and Hinata’s uncertain look doesn’t quell his worries. Bringing up Rumi? Here? Now? The last person he wants Hinata to think about? “Sorry,” he mumbles out.

“Oh, no,” she denies. She should’ve expected this. Like they said, she’s not Rumi…someone who successfully made her status very public in a short amount of time...approved by the general crowd for her cute and bubbly demeanor...

The girls continue talking, his anxiety climbing as their voices get louder with their approach. He makes to stand. “Maybe I should...” deal with them?

Hinata’s eyes dart to him, silently wishing that he wouldn’t pay them any attention.

It strikes him through. “I’m not leaving! Hinata, I just don’t want them to bother us!”

She nods, biting her lips, surprised that he overreacted. “I understand.”

He hesitates, looking closely at her. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Once he catches the renewed faith in her eyes, he smiles, sealing his word. He hurries out past the curtain, to the group of girls’ great excitement, and he recognizes them...

“Good evening, Naruto-senpai~” Ahh, he should know her name.

“Are you busy?” That girl..he’s supposed to know her name, too.

The four gather around him, and he can’t quite establish any personal space. “Yeah, I’m busy right now.” They frown and sigh, then try to invite him out with them anyway.

In the past, he’s given in, having nowhere better to go necessarily. That’s not close to the case now. “I’m sorry, I’m on an important date.” He angles his body back toward Hinata.

They immediately quiet as their eyes dart to the girl, amongst each other, back up to him with much less giddiness in their gazes.

“I see, so sorry to interrupt!” one apologizes, and he thinks that’s pretty nice of her.

“We just wanted to say hi,” another says.

He smiles and nods, tries to steadily back away from them. “Good seeing you guys!” He gives a wave, hopefully finalizing the end of this exchange.

As soon as he sees them nod, hears them mumble out goodbyes and next times?, he blasts an appreciative grin and completely turns around.

Slipping into the seat next to Hinata has the same sense of completing a mission. He did it, and hopefully that didn’t take too long. He studies her...she’s not looking at him.

“I’m sorry...” she murmurs apologetically.

Sorry?

“Maybe you would’ve liked to-”

“No!” he interrupts, catching on almost too late. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for all of that, for making you wait.”

She shakes her head firmly. “No, you were really fast, but you could’ve talked to them for longer if you liked.”

It seems he also forgot how stubborn she is. “...I didn’t want to talk to them. I just want to talk to you.”

Her cheeks pinken. She frowns, brows furrowing.

“This, our date, it’s really important to me, okay?”

She turns even redder and nods. “This is important to me, too.”

He smiles, satisfied. “So tell me about Shino! He really wants to be a teacher? What made him start thinking about that?”

She sees how much he’s trying to reassure her, and how easily he does it, too, never holding back, even in a moment like this. He leaves no room for her to doubt herself.

So she’ll stop thinking about other girls. She’ll focus only on him. “Have you seen Shino-kun with Mirai-chan?”

“Your sensei’s baby? Mmm...no, I don’t think so...”

“He’s really, really good with her, and he’s found that he likes kids a lot. Shino-kun's always been very empathetic, very understanding, so I think he relates to them easily.” She goes on to tell him about Shino’s expectations for the education course, and Naruto tells her about the times he’s visited Iruka’s class to assist or demonstrate. The kids he’s met and their terrible antics.

The conversation is easy, interesting, and Hinata marvels at how none of it feels forced.

She doesn’t have to count his good points.

She doesn’t have to add up everything she admires about him.

It’s so easy to talk with him, it’s so, so cute to see him joyfully eat his ramen, and it’s just so incredible to smile at him and receive his smiles in return.

His soft gaze is indescribably warm. Happy. The way she’s looked at him for so long…

To feel that from him, directed at her, it’s almost too much…

But she wants this. She wants all of it. To feel so free to look at him. To let her affection for him show in her gaze. To not have to put a cap on her love, bottle it up inside and hope none of it spills.

“Be careful,” she had told herself. But how? How can she possibly be careful? How can she possibly withhold all the love she’s been hurting to give him for so long?

She doesn’t want the night to end.

But eventually, they’re walking side-by-side back to her place, slowly, slowly, until there’s no more distance left to keep.

She faces him and smiles with as much appreciation as she can show. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He has no idea how the night ended so quickly when all they did was eat. Usually at this time, rather than only just finishing dinner, he’d be seeing Rumi off after all of the fooling around at his place-- Simply spending time with Hinata is even better than any of that perverted stuff. “Did you have fun tonight?”

She nods and hums her affirmation. “I did. Thank you for everything.”

His hands ache in his jacket pockets to hold her, but he’s going to be considerate even if it kills him.

“Did you have fun, Naruto-kun?”

He nods. “Yeah, I can’t believe how fast the time passed. It already got so late.”

“Mhm.” The fluttering feeling she’s felt all night continues unrelenting. “I didn’t notice how late it got, either.” Only now does the dark silence of the late night seem to close around them. Only the chilling wind creates a stir, but she failed to notice that, too.

He studies her cute, shy smile, can hardly believe that she enjoyed herself as much as he did. “Can we meet up again soon?”

“I’d really like that.”

“I don’t have a mission tomorrow.”

“Me, neither.”

“Then, tomorrow? I can come by around 11?”

“Okay.”

They both realize that the night is over. The only thing she has left to do is turn around and head inside.

But she wonders if that’s not good enough.

She knows this was never good enough for Susumu. And is this good enough, perfect enough, for herself?

She casts her eyes down, unwilling to let him see the wavering of her nerves.

She takes two steps, closing the space between them, and mercifully, he doesn’t back away. Carefully, she leans into him a bit, his body warmth flushing her entire system hot.

He only just gets his hands out of his pockets to touch when she backs up, his hands left mid-air.

She’s staring at him with the funniest, shyest expression he’s ever seen. “Good night, Naruto-kun. Thank you for tonight.”

But he’s still trying to process the one-second hug. “That’s not fair,” he accuses before his brain can catch up with his mouth.

“Hm?”

“You-” He bites his lip, remembering that he wasn’t supposed to rush her. But what’s he supposed to do with this? How could she do something so cute and innocent?

...How innocent is she?

And with that wondering burning a small pit of jealousy in his gut, he turns his hands, showing her how she left him hanging. “...Will you let me?”

She fidgets but nods, not making eye contact. She takes one step forward, and that warmth surrounds her, his hands at her back, gentle. She thinks she’s never felt anything nicer, warmer, so intimate.

To be so close to the one she loves, it’s different.

To touch the person she’s longed to touch, it’s unreal, a waking dream. The slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathes--isn’t that alarmingly amazing? She’s too happy. This is what she’s wanted for so long, what she didn’t want to share with anyone else. How could she have dared to force herself to touch another man?... Well, she didn’t know this would ever happen. “Naruto-kun…”

“Hinata?”

“I love you.”

He squeezes her a little closer, the intimacy of her words and body turning his face hot. Three times now, "I love you", and each time feels sweeter than the last. “I love you, too, really.”

“Mm.” It’s impossible for her to distrust his word. She tightens her grip, savoring him for one more second, breathing in his warmth, before letting go and stepping back.

She can barely look at him for how happy she is, but he’s smiling with a softness that’s as smushed up as her feelings.

He’s so beautiful.

“Good night, Naruto-kun,” she manages to breathe out.

“Good night, Hinata.” He watches her step away, give him a final, gorgeous smile, and then disappear behind the gate.

And suddenly, he’s left alone with only his heartbeat thudding out the slipping memory of her form.

It was too perfect.

He somehow messed up at the beginning, and then those girls interrupted the start of their dinner, but everything after, everything, just being with her, and then holding her, it was all perfect.

She was perfect.

When he was with Rumi, every moment was new and strange, and so he thought that’s how it must be.

Yet with Hinata? Familiar. Warm. Easy.

So comforting.

The whole night was dazzlingly wonderful. He could sprint the rest of the way home with how great he feels, give outlet to the elation jumping beneath his skin, and exclaim his delight to the stars in rushing breaths.

But he walks, choosing instead to wallow in his happiness and count his blessings quietly. The last thing he wants to do is tempt fate to twist up his fortunes and slide him backwards like he so rightly deserves.

One wrong move, and the universe might find him unworthy of its favor.

So he makes sure to arrive on-time again the next day.

When she steps out to meet him, she looks completely different, something about her demeanor, something about her smile. It’s not the clothing or her hair. Something softer? She’s not quite the daring warrior who stood at his side in the war, who protected him in battle, who’s sealed his tenketsu in spars or had dirt streaking her arms and legs after a mission. She’s not guarded at all.

She’s just...

This Hinata is somehow...

Still, warm familiarity flutters and warms him all over. It’s still Hinata, but this Hinata is only for him. He just wants to protect this. Rather than selfish, this feeling is purer than a kiss from the sun on a breezy day.

He used to feel a kind of self-gratification, a proud slickness that settled in his gut, when he walked around with Rumi. Each date felt like an accomplishment, each step closer to her an affirmation of his growth.

The comparison is a sickening damper on his mood, and he doesn’t dwell on his ex as they head onto the shopping arcade. “Have you tried that new game center people have been talking about?” he asks.

She shakes her head. She doesn’t mention that she assumed it was entertainment for kids, but they are not too old, yet, right? She can see some young teenagers crowding around machines inside the center. “Have you?”

“No…”

“It looks fun,” she observes aloud, noting machines filled with plush toys, screens with small dancing visuals, and the obvious tension stringing groups of friends to stay glued to their games.

He grins. “Shall we go in?”

And she nods, pleased that she read his hidden curiosity correctly.

They investigate one of the machines that advertises its mission simulation in neon lettering. A pixelated little man jumps around the screen, dodging what they imagine must be flying kunai and leaping across trees. Naruto tentatively hits a round button and the screen changes, names of people scrolling upwards. He taps a different round button and the screen shifts to instructions.

“How do we play this thing?” He jabs at a few more buttons randomly, and the words Insert Coins flash at the top.

“Um…” Hinata looks down at the rest of the machine. “Over there.”

They peer at the slot.

“Okay…” Naruto opens his wallet and slips coins in until the machine makes a startling amount of music. He stands up straight, suddenly realizing he has no idea how the game works. He hits a button, and the man jumps.

“Maybe these buttons make you move forward,” Hinata guesses.

He presses it and the man starts running.

“Oh, jump!” Hinata exclaims as a gap in the trees appears.

He hits the button to jump, and the man leaps up…

And falls in the hole.

Game Over flashes obnoxiously red on the screen.

They stare at it for a second, dumbfounded.

“What?!” Naruto argues. “Why did he jump in the hole?! Let’s try again.”

“Yes, try again,” Hinata encourages.

On a second try, he gets the timing of the trees, but only makes it to the flying kunai. “Whaaat!” he groans. He fishes out more coins and feeds them into the machine. “You wanna try this? Maybe you’ll be better than me,” he laughs.

“I think I know what to do.” She takes over and manages to get past the obstacles.

Naruto cheers her on throughout her play, then goes silent when she comes up against another little figure. He watches her throw shuriken at it, and eventually, the figure disappears. In its place poofs out a scroll, which her character seems to collect.

The game alerts them that she made it to level 2, where she promptly gets knocked out by a swinging log.

“Ah.” She watches the screen mock her in giant lettering and hears the intense music fizzle out. “Oh well,” she sighs.

“You made it to the next level!” he congratulates her. “Do you want to try again?”

She considers it for a second. She gets the feeling that she could be really good at this game if she kept playing, but then Naruto might get bored. “Maybe let’s look at the other games?”

“Hmmm.” He scans around the room and sees one that two people seem to be playing. “Maybe we can try something like that?”

“Oh, we can play together!” she happily observes.

“Yeah, looks like it.”

They settle on one that’s much simpler and less realistic, playing as two mice trying to collect as many blocks of cheese as possible without getting eaten by cats in a maze-like setting. It’s surprisingly harrowing, living the life of mice, and they both cry out in horror, then laugh, when a cat finally corners them.

He watches the smile bunching her cheeks and honestly feels relieved to see that she’s enjoying herself as they try out the different games. The new game center was a spur of the moment idea, and he didn’t actually think she would be interested. He’s pretty certain that Kanae and Rumi would not have been too keen on playing games that seem to be marketed for children.

When they finally decide to stop and get lunch at Ichiraku, they discuss the new experience, marveling at the technology.

“It’s like a television, but you can interact with it!” Hinata considers aloud. “I wonder how they did that?”

Naruto nods with equal fascination. “They had all kinds of games, too. Technology’s really changed in the past couple of years, hasn’t it, like people can have their own video recorders now. Makes you wonder what they’ll come up with next, you know.”

She blinks in surprise. Because actually, she hadn’t wondered about what will happen next. “Hmm…”

“Like that video game we played with the ninja character. Maybe they’ll make technology for shinobi.”

She tries to imagine what they could possibly need, but comes up empty. “...Like what?”

He shrugs. “Maybe different tools or medic-related things? I have no idea,” he laughs.

“Hmm… Technology that could make our work safer somehow would be nice.”

“Yeah. Or make communication faster when we’re on the job. There’s a lot of things we can do to ensure more safety for shinobi. Technology might be the key to that.”

She hums in thoughtful agreement. “You’ll be a great Hokage, Naruto-kun.”

He draws out of his musings and looks at her. His lifelong dream is more believable to the general public than it ever was before, but it’s still surprising to hear that kind of simple confidence in him.

She just took a mouthful of ramen, so she can’t do much to address his look. She tries to give him a closed-lipped smile and swallow as quickly as she can. “You’re always thinking about the future for us.”

“Oh,” he murmurs, inexplicably shy when usually he'd be peacocking at the recognition. Dazed, he slurps up more of his ramen to fill the silence.

She watches him eat through his blush, and she’s glad that at least this time, he’s taking her compliment without argument or deflection.

She sees that slowly but surely, they’ll grow more comfortable in each other’s presence. She looks forward to the day when he’ll acknowledge all that she sees in him. When that day will be exactly, she doesn’t know. Around 10 years worth of admiration and love would be a lot for anyone to take on, but she’ll do her best to convey all of it to him. In words and action.

So she lets herself enjoy his careful hug at the end of their date. It’s still daytime, and anyone could see them, but it’s still just as amazing as the night before. “Today was fun, Naruto-kun. Thank you.” She readies her heart for the separation, committing his warmth to memory, and steps back.

“Thank you, Hinata. I had a lot of fun, too.” He already misses her. He can’t wait for the next time, but… “I’ll see you when I come back from my border patrol.”

She nods. “Be safe.”

His heart grows heavy, the knowledge of a perfect date coming to an end disappointing. “You, too, if you get called for a mission in the meantime.”

“Of course.” She smiles to make her promise with confidence, and she can see his promise to return safely in his eyes, too.

In any downtime, he finds himself musing on Hinata. He’s eager to see her smile, hear her laugh, and hold her again. And supposedly she’s returning from a mission today after another week apart.

So he weaves through the busy throngs of people as he heads to the Hokage’s Office. He’ll be helping with some administration duties, and if he’s lucky, he’ll get to see her while he’s there.

He enters the spacious lobby, and instead, his hopeful look around lands on a small brunette.

Rumi with her team.

He hasn’t seen her since that awful night. Eyes averted, he walks past them with as normal a rushed gait as possible to the stairs.

“Naruto.”

And he stops, her voice, once so intimate to him, freezing him in anxious guilt. He turns back to see her.

Her gaze is steely, slightly pinched with a look akin to anger, but he’s not sure. Distrust? Hatred? Any of those is what he deserves.

But he doesn’t have any idea as to why she would call out to him. “Rumi,” he murmurs.

And she grimaces. She strides forward, leaving her teammates sides, who are both in unfriendly stances toward him. She takes an obvious breath as she looks up. Her brows furrow, and he realizes, he’s the enemy. “I want to hear it from you.”

He waits for clarification.

She takes another breath. “You’re dating...Hinata-san.”

He watches how she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t look at all broken like that night. She’s hard, defenses up, prepared for his blow. It’s relieving, while simultaneously condemning him even more on his folly. He misjudged her strength. “...Yeah,” he quietly affirms.

He hears the doors open, and he looks up.

It’s Team 8.

He sees Hinata’s bewilderment at the situation, how her eyes widen, her pace slows.

“You’re the worst.” Rumi’s voice, scathing.

He looks back to her, alarmed by such an unfamiliar tone from her.

Her eyes squint with obvious scorn. She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you. I really-” She takes a step back. “You disgust me,” she gasps out. She turns around, rejoins her team, and walks out without hesitation.

He stands there stunned. He can’t bring himself to acknowledge Team 8’s uneasy presence, he can’t look at Hinata.

“We’ll go turn in our report,” Kiba murmurs.

Kiba and Shino leave.

He wishes she didn’t see that. Then he could at least try to pretend this never happened, suppress this memory like everything else he does when it comes to Rumi. He just wants to do better, be better. Move on. He doesn’t want Hinata to see what a disaster he’s been in the past.

She draws closer, though unsure of what to say. She can make a good guess as to why Rumi said those things to him. From what little Naruto told her at the hospital and what Sakura told her after, it seems like he broke up with Rumi so that he could be with her. If she didn't know that, then of course Rumi would be hurt to find out… “Naruto-kun?” she whispers.

He finally glances at her, surprised to see only concern in her eyes. “Sorry…” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, he just feels like he should.

“No…” She tries to dig for words to set him at ease. It’s obvious his break-up was bad, much messier than her own. And as far as she knows, he broke up with Rumi only about a month ago, or even less, for about the time that they’ve been together. Was their relationship just too soon? What can she say?

“...I’ll talk to you later, Hinata…”

“Oh, okay.” She watches him run up the steps and disappear. Is it her place to follow? Or is this where she needs to give him space?

She decides to do what she must do. First, she goes to report in with the Hokage and help her team. Then after she’ll go looking for him, at least to tell him that she’s available.

He hurries to the Analytics Office to log data with Shikamaru. He can bury himself in work, be productive at the same time, and hide from humiliation.

He was such a fool to date Rumi. If he had never dated her, he would have never made such stupid mistakes, hurt her, wasted her time, wasted his own time, made Hinata wait, made Hinata date that guy, made himself sick and jealous. If he had just figured out Hinata’s feelings sooner, or if he had figured out his own feelings sooner.

If he had been smarter or more mature.

If he hadn’t been so foolish...

She hovers in the doorway, hesitant to bother him, when he seems to be ignoring her. But she finally steps in, making her presence obvious.

He looks up, surprised. “Hinata...Sorry, I can talk to you later…I need to help Shikamaru with all of this.”

She nods, wondering if she should have given him more space. He already promised to talk to her later after all, and so maybe she didn’t need to go looking for him.

“How annoying,” Shikamaru groans, looking up from his journal. “I don’t need help.” He looks pointedly at Naruto. “No need to put on a professional front, you missed her, right? You can thank me later.”

Naruto gapes at his friend. His excuse from confronting his stupid life taken away, just like that. “There’s still a lot left.”

“Just go.”

“But I’ve only helped for less than a hour.”

“You can just come back after.”

“I-it’s okay, Shikamaru-san.” Each of Naruto’s protests tears at her a little. If he needs more time away from her, then she should give that to him. She didn’t realize that she’s been getting spoiled by the last two dates. “I didn’t mean to bother, I just wanted to tell Naruto-kun that I’m free this afternoon.”

He can feel the emotional distance he’s putting between them, but it just feels like the right thing to do for now. His mind is so scattered with regret. He wishes he never dated Rumi. He wishes he never got so full of himself. He wishes he wasn’t so stupid, so disgusting, the worst. “...Sorry, Hinata, I don’t want to leave Shikamaru with all of this.”

“I understand.” She smiles to show that she really does. “Both of you are working really hard. I’ll be checking in at home, then, okay?”

Her smile cuts him. He’s obviously not doing the right thing, but what is the right thing in this case? “Alright, I’ll see you later, Hinata.” He watches her turn away, disappear from view. But for now, just for now, he can’t talk to her. She said she understands, right? Can she tell that he doesn’t know what to do or say?

“What a drag. If you’re going to look so forlorn, then why the hell are you staying here?”

His gaze darts to his friend. “I’m not ‘forlorn’!”

Shikamaru presses his hand to his forehead, like he might have a headache. “I don’t want to ask. I’m asking anyway. What happened? You missed her all week, didn’t you?”

“...Yeah.” He frowns at the desk, not wanting to talk about this at all.

“...And?!”

“...And I saw Rumi downstairs.”

“...So?”

“Hinata saw us.”

“........So?! Isn’t that more reason to make sure that Hinata didn’t get the wrong idea?”

Naruto sits up, confused.

“Or are you thinking of breaking up already and going back to Rumi. Is that what happened?”

“No!” He stands, indignant at the suggestion. “Of course not!”

“Then why didn’t you want to talk to Hinata? She just came back from her mission.”

All of the fight drains out of him. “...I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s not like you,” Shikamaru intones. “Out of all of the times to choose to think first and act later, you’re choosing now to hesitate?”

“What do you mean? I just don’t know how to act! Rumi said some stuff in front of everyone, and it was really bad, embarrassing. I’m not hesitating!”

“What did Rumi- No, it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to say or act anything special, Naruto. You should at least just greet Hinata properly.”

“...You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Get out of here already,” he sighs.

“Yeah. Sorry, Shikamaru.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says carelessly and waves him off.

He runs out of the building, and it doesn’t take long at all to catch up. “Hinata!”

She turns at his voice, surprised, but glad. “Naruto-kun!”

He walks in pace with her, energy falling just as quickly. “I’m sorry.”

She frowns. “No? There’s nothing to apologize for. I-I’m sorry for bothering you, I didn’t mean to be impatient.”

“No, I’m sorry for...earlier, and just now...”

The sight of Naruto and Rumi’s confrontation bothered her, but she doesn’t think she should push him about it. She’s not sure it’s her place to ask what happened. But she does want to know if… “Are you okay?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.” He still feels shitty about all of it, but it’s not like Rumi said anything untruthful. He already knows he’s the worst. And at least there’s some reprieve in knowing that...that he disgusts her…

She tries to assess his serious expression. Should she ask? Should she give him space? Do people talk about their exes with their new partner? In the past, he just talked about Kanae without any curiosity on her part, so she’s never had to ask before. “...Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

She nods silently.

“Ah!!” he shouts in realization. “I didn’t go up to her myself or anything like that, Hinata! She asked me if I was dating you, and I said yes, and then..yeah.”

She stares for a second, surprised by his sudden outburst, but she nods even harder. “I...I kind of thought so.”

He lets out a quiet sigh of relief. He realizes that Hinata could have interpreted everything differently. Like Shikamaru said, she could have suspected he approached Rumi first. But she didn’t. She trusted him. Out of her forgiveness, he somehow didn’t ruin the faith she’s putting into their new relationship. He can't take her patience for granted. He needs to try harder. He needs to do better for Hinata.

He stops in his tracks.

Noticing that he’s not keeping up, she turns around. “Naruto-kun?”

“You know that I’d never cheat on you, right?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to her at all.

“You know that my...previous relationships...don’t compare to this, how I feel for you?”

She feels a blush rise. “...Naruto-kun...you said something similar before…” Of course she didn’t forget!

“I’m sorry I dated them, I wish I never dated them. I wish I realized my feelings for you earlier, and I wish I only had had you this whole time.” The regrets that clamored about his mind rush out, and in his vulnerability, he watches, afraid that he’s only reminding her of his mistakes. Where does she draw the line in her patience? In her forgiveness?

“N-Naruto-kun,” she stutters out, flustered, “I didn’t think you were cheating on me.” It’s true that at the start of their relationship, she told herself to be careful, but he’s since given her the same concentrated attention that he would to a mission. She hasn’t once felt like his affection is a lie.

“Hinata…”

She nods. She swallows down the butterflies. “I get to be with you now, and I’m very happy. I’ve never been happier. So, don’t worry about me.”

Her warm smile sets him at ease. How fortunate is he to have someone like Hinata willing to deal with him? And on top of that, be happy about it? “I hope I can keep you happy. I’ll make sure you’re happy all the time.”

Her expression scrunches up. She doesn’t know whether to smile or reprimand him for such silly yet earnest promises. She can’t handle it. She shakes her head, and looks down. “Naruto-kun, that’s too much.”

Too much? “No, it’s not. It’s my job as your boyfriend.” If she’s not happy with him all the time, then she’ll leave. It’s the very least of his duties!

She meets his gaze again, slightly perplexed. “This isn’t your job, please don’t think of this as your job. When it’s us, it’s just us. Of course, I want to make you happy, too, Naruto-kun, but happiness is something we do together, right? We’re a team?”

“A team…”

“If we have bad days, or if we ever disagree on something, we work through it together, and we come out happier together.”

“Bad days? I’ll never let you have a bad day, Hinata!”

“W-what!” she laughs.

“I’ll protect you from everything bad, and we’ll never fight or argue or anything like that!”

“Naruto-kun!” she protests.

He knows it sounds silly, but he means it. “I never want to make you sad or mad.” ...It strikes him that he’s made this promise before, truly believing he would hold his end up. And he didn't, his words far lighter and more easily broken than he could have ever realized of himself. Now, a heavy shame he doesn't even know how to hold.

“I never want to make you sad or mad, either." She wonders at his sudden downcast expression, if he's still thinking about Rumi, and if he always puts so much pressure on himself for his relationships. She doesn't want to be another weight on his shoulders. She just wants to see his smile. "If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” She gazes up at him, hoping he sees that she needs nothing else.

Before her, his past guilt is forced back so easily. Everything with Hinata is so easy. He would have never known. He hurt Rumi for a reason, he broke that promise because they both have better things to move on to. Each moment with Hinata affirms his decision. No matter how selfish it was, if Hinata's happy, then it was worth it. She makes everything worth it. “I’m happy if you’re happy, too.”

Pink fills her cheeks as her smile brightens.

“Thank you for being my teammate, Hinata.”

She can’t help fidgeting from his sweetness. “Thank you for being my teammate, Naruto-kun.”

He lets her returned affection settle in, calm the vestiges of his anxiety. He’s constantly afraid that he’s going to mess up, but Hinata makes it seem as if he’s been doing fine this whole time.

It makes him hopeful that they will last. Past one month, today, tomorrow, next month, next year. This is only the start, but he’s already made so many promises to make up for everything he's lacking.

At the very least, he needs to prove his word is worth her faith.

That he has love, the real thing, behind each of his pitiful apologies.

He wants to start giving, not always receiving. Even if she says she's already happy, he knows he can do so much more. But how?

#white lilies #naruhina fanfic #naruhina angst #romance #canon divergent au #hanahaki #no the last #naruhina fanfiction #finally #only one more chapter of this fic and i'm done #thank you for reading!!

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thesunnyshow · 4 years

Text

Name: Alana

Writing Blog URL(s): @jinyoungsir

What fandom(s) do you write for?: GOT7, BTS, Monsta X, Stray Kids, Ateez, NCT

Age: 27

Nationality: American

Languages: English

Star Sign: Aries

MBTI: I’m not sure. I’ve taken the test so many times but I never remember the result.

Favorite color: Black

Favorite food: Potatoes! All forms of potatoes!!

Favorite movie: Harry Potter? Jurassic Park/World? Twister? Jaws? I love movies...it’s so hard to choose!

Favorite ice cream flavor: Vanilla with lots of fudge & brownie bits.

Favorite animal: Tigers! I like big cats and the way they move.

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?: Coffee- Peppermint White Mocha HOT! Or any flavor tea hot or cold as long as it’s sweetened!

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): Writing and Traveling. Something far from the 9-5, ‘working for the man’ type of job.

Go-to karaoke song: ‘Shoop’ by Salt-N-Pepa (thank u Deadpool)

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose?: The ability to manipulate time because I am late for everything and also, I would 100% pause the timeline for a little mental health break once a day.

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose?: Idk if this counts but I low-key would have loved to be a pirate. So whatever timeline that fits into.

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?: No, thank you. I already have a defiance disorder. I’m not going to be under 18 ever again. I like doing what I want when I want as an adult lol. Everything turned out okay.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken?: 100 chicken-sized horses. I hope I drown in them. What a dream.

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been?: I AM a teen highschool movie trope lol my husband and I met in school at fourteen.

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures?: YES, because the world is just too big for there not to be.

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know?: I stopped eating pizza for several years for no real reason other than not wanting to eat pizza and then just starting eating it again one day as if I had never stopped.

When did you post your first piece?: I think it was May 2019.

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why?: Mostly fluff & humor because I’m kind of soft and I really love a feel-good fic. Any angst I write is typically resolved by the end because I live for a happy ending. And occasional smut strictly for the spice.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc?: OCs & xReaders.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr?: I love/hate the format tbh but mostly because of my tumblr community. I love being able to meet and talk to new people easily thru the platform.

What inspires you to write?: Everything! Songs, movies, commercials, personal events, etc. Sometimes it’s just a word, phrase, or picture.

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most?: I’m a major sucker for friends/strangers to lovers! and I LOVE a good Mafia/Gang/Assassin!AU. On the opposite end of the spectrum, you can catch me writing dad!au stories.

What do you hope your readers take away from your work?: I just hope it makes them feel good. Laugh, smile, cry, yell, uwu, just- all the emotions.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively?: Take a break. Read a book, dive into a k-drama, binge a few fics. Sometimes I just have to put the laptop away until I’m ready to start again.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful?: My favorite story is probably ‘Over The Top’ with GOT7’s Bambam. It’s a dad!au about bam’s twin boys’ first birthday party. I’m quite attached to their family dynamic in the story and may even revisit twin terrors Somsak & Somchai in the future. Most successful? Probably the ‘Bubbles’ series, a Monsta X OT7 fiesta. I had a lot of feedback while posting that series and made a lot of friends. (It was also my first actual fic & it jump-started this blog!)

Who is your favorite person to write about?: Jackson Wang or Park Jinyoung from GOT7 and Han Jisung from Stray Kids.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose?: This is kind of a tough one because, yes- as a fanfic writer I’m using a real person as a character, however, the storyline, the dialog, the emotions, the actions of the characters are all organic. I could take any one of my stories and replace only that person’s name and it would be considered entirely original. So, I guess I would say it’s not so different.

What do you think makes a good story?: Great dialog.

What is your writing process like?: Sometimes I get an idea and go straight to word vomiting and editing. Sometimes it’s planning the title, characters, tags list, & summary then not looking at it for a few weeks until I’m ready to write it.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story?: Yes. All of my stories are AU (non-idol verse) so I would totally repurpose them.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand?: Love: friends/strangers/enemies to lovers, + grumpy character only soft for their love interest. Dislike: Love triangles, angsty slow burn, cheating, etc.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you?: IT IS EVERYTHING. I love reading tags, getting aks, getting messages, it warms my heart, and really motivates me to keep going.

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)?: When I write and I really like my own story, it feels like a success.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged?: Yes, they certainly can be. I think people who don’t understand fanfiction can have a very narrow mindset and belittle fanfic writers because of that misunderstanding.

Do you think art can be a medium for change?: Yes. Even if its something as small as changing one’s mood.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself?: Not usually. I try to only write things that make me happy and if I ever get requests I’m not into, I usually won’t write it. If I’m not enjoying myself and the story, it’s not worth the pressure I put on myself to write it.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times?: It’s definitely possible, but I haven’t had many issues with this so far.

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr?: My mom, dad, sister, husband, and two other friends know.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers?: I’m always here to make you laugh and smile, whenever you need it. I hope my stories can bring you joy.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there?: Do it for yourself. If you are enjoying yourself then it’s worth it.

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr?: I love this hellsite. I’ve been here since high school and I have no regrets.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey?: AJ: my favorite bean, Chelle: my fav writer & inspo, Megan: my hype squad gf, Leena: my sisterwife, Na: my #1 supporter, and Val: my JJP/Wonu Soulmate.

Pick a quote to end your interview with: “mo0n Mo0n JiN m0oN!” - Jeon Jeongguk

BONUS ROUND: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL

#jinyoungsir #thesunnyshow #featured author #episode 43 #got7 #bts #stray kids #monsta x #ateez #nct

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mymymadeline · 4 years

Text

• Someone New

pairing: Hallmark Christmas Movie Au! Poe Dameron x Reader

word count: 2.7k words

summary: He’s instantly beautiful in an almost familiar way, like you could call his features home.

warnings: none! :)

notes: look... isn’t this what we all want? big shoutouts to my sun and stars Cat for making this fic baby with me, couldnt have done it without you love. Enjoy!

Adore You series: 01, 02, 03, 04, ... - AO3

“Well I don’t care how it gets done, it just needs to get done! As long as it’s legal, I'm fine with it, and if it’s illegal, well I'm sure we can find a way to work around that.”

If you hadn’t already kicked off your heels behind your desk twenty minutes ago, you’re sure your feet would be aching from the frantic pacing that’s now ruining your office carpet. The curtains are open to the bustling concrete metropolis outside, the massive height of the building giving you all the privacy you need. Uncertain sunshine slips from massive clouds and tentative rays rest on your carpet.

“Enjoying your final day at work, I see.” Kylo smiles mockingly at you from the doorway of your office. Your frantic strides come to an irritated halt and you squeeze the phone next to your ear a little tighter.

“Just text me when it’s done. Don’t even call, I don’t care.” Hanging up before they can answer with a firm, unsatisfying press of your finger, you level your gaze with Kylo’s irritatingly smug face.

“What could you possibly want right now, Kylo?” You have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. Letting him onto your annoyance would only spur him on and you really don’t need that right now.

He crosses his arms and leans on the doorframe, carefully crafting the picture of power. “It just seems to me like leaving town is causing you so much stress. It might just be easier to stay.” He shrugs.

“Ha. And you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You raise your brow at him, putting as much taunting venom in your voice, hopefully without devolving into an actual argument. “Me giving up my first real vacation in years to stay and do more busywork, while you gallivant around with some… hmm more models, will it be this year?”

Kylo scoffs, obviously enjoying this sparring much more than you. But a rare softness takes over his tone. “You know, you could always come with me.”

This catches you off guard. You haven’t seen this kind of tone from him in a long time. Not since before everything went down in burning wreckage between you two.

You level your gaze with his meaningfully, keeping your voice smooth but unemotional.

“I think that would be a bad idea.”

Any sincerity in Kylo’s features goes as quickly as it came, he shrugs it off like it disturbed him to even know it still exists within him. His petulant yet teasing smugness takes over as natural as the clouds over the sun.

“Yeah, well, don’t say I didn’t try. Anyway, hardly a vacation, spending a month in that pathetic, run-down rat-hole. I forgot, did they get wifi there yet?”

Moving away from Kylo, you pace back over to your desk, turning your phone meditatively between your hands. “You act like you didn’t grow up there too.”

Echo Basin was not a major town by any means. In fact, both you and Kylo spent all of graduate school telling people you were from Yavin just to spare the confused looks and odd questions. But while Kylo only ever pulled further away from your hometown and the people in it, you often pondered what life would have been like if you’d stayed. But it was never more than a thought, as the business at hand was always more pressing and besides, you were successful here. What more could you ask for?

“We lived there for the first 18 years of our lives. We grew up at Imperial U.” Kylo snaps you out of your brief reverie and brings your attention back to his now clearly disinterested demeanor, as he scrolls through his phone. “Whatever, it’s your ‘vacation.’ As long as you don’t end up like that traitor.” He pauses, about to elaborate before he shakes his head and continues scrolling. “Still, we have a meeting with Hux approximately... four minutes ago. So, whenever you’re ready, princess.”

You turn away from him, to the window and look out among the bustling streets and impassive skyscrapers of the city. The few rays of sunshine in your office have taken off, leaving the room colder than usual. Dark clouds look to be rolling in from the east. You faintly recall the weatherman standing next to a big snowflake on the TV this morning. You didn’t believe him before.

“Sure. I’ll meet you there.”

_____________

You give your best death glare to the array of lights flashing at you from the dashboard. They blink meaningfully, as if you have a clue what any of them mean, as snow continues to pelt the windows of the car. The hours long drive has exhausted your vision and the windshield is slowly becoming a wall of white. Maybe you should have invested in those 5 Hour Energies after all. Your assistant had offered to buy you an array of energy supplements or drinks for the trip, but in a foolish attempt to not show any weakness in front of employees and peers, you refused. Ah, hubris.

Still, you drive on, heat blasting to offset the nearly year-round chill of your hometown and do your best to keep a positive attitude. But that attitude only proves more difficult to keep as the wheels of your precious TIE give an unpleasant bump and the sleet lined road is finally starting to make you chew your lip.

“Come on. Only a few more miles to go.” You gently goad your car, pointedly ignoring the GPS and its remaining 80 miles.

The car answers only with another lurching screech. Then a sputter. Then a whine.

The noises pause, as if waiting for a reply.

“Don’t you dare,” you whisper. But your threat only comes out as a plea.

Without your permission and seemingly out of spite, the car sputters and begins to slow, your frantic attempts on the gas giving no support. Continuing forward with only your momentum, you manage to gently steer your beloved, stupid car off towards the snowy treeline purely on instinct.

Out in the snow, on this one-lane highway, as the sun sets at 4:00 PM on a Friday, your car stops moving.

You sit in the stalled vehicle, as frozen as the miles of nothingness around you. You’re going to die here. Your shaking hands clutch the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip and you let out an angered scream worthy of an Academy Award. You just wish you were acting.

You manage to scream yourself out of breath, but the stupid thought won’t go away. You’re going to die here. What a stupid childish thought. You’ll be fine, just act like an adult.

“Ok, ok. Calm down. You’re not far from town. Grow up and find out what’s wrong with your car like a reasonable car owner.” You reach for the door handle and are met with only another gust of wind, pushing all of the snow it can carry in your direction and your body shivers at the mere idea.

“Ok, maybe just call someone.”

Your phone is a lot of things. You’ve spent countless hours with it scrolling through stocks, shouting at people, being shouted at, scoffing at idiotic articles that don’t know the first thing about you. In fact, it's probably your only friend. And now, in the middle of nowhere, it feels like a lifeline.

Your brain briefly recalls the fuzzy image of the old auto shop you would sometimes pass while getting groceries all those years ago, but whatever name was on the sign escapes you. So you’re left with dialing the first place that shows up on Google and crossing your fingers.

Ring

“Pick up.”

Ring

“Please.”

Click.

“Rebel Auto, this is Rose. How can I help you?”

A cheerful woman’s voice answers at the end of a laugh, as if joking around had kept her from picking up. You sigh in relief, but are quietly alarmed as the fact that you can see your breath already. The car is cooling quickly.

Without a second thought, you put on the ‘phone call voice’ you’ve mastered for over a decade and get straight to the point.

“Yes, Hi. My car has just broken down on the main highway, just after mile...” you turn around try to note the mile marker, but the fog on the inside and the snow on the outside are doing everything they can to make your job impossible. “77? I believe? Anyway, I need a tow into town and a repair as soon as possible. Thank you.”

“Oh.” The woman seems caught off guard at your brusk and smooth tone. There’s a sound of shuffling papers and she clears her throat. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll send someone out immediately. I-In the meantime can you identify your make and model?”

Immediately. Perfect, at least if you freeze, there will be someone close enough to find your body. With another breath of relief, you allow yourself to actually relax, even examine your nails. Damn, when did you get that chip on the thumb?

“Yes, it’s a 2021 TIE Striker. And if you’re going to ask me what the problem is, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about cars. It was driving and then it wasn’t.”

“A… TIE Striker? Wow… Uhm-” Rose seems at a momentary loss for words, you’re not quite sure why. “Not often people drive TIEs and not know anything about cars.” She laughs. You don’t.

“Well, Rose if that’s all I-” Something about the name coming out of your mouth gives you pause. Dots that you didn’t know were there start to connect.

“Wait, Rose? Rose... Tico?”

“Uhm…” her gulp is audible through the phone. “Yes?”

Now is when you laugh. You almost feel dumb enough to smack yourself on the forehead. Almost.

You clear your throat and put on your best impression of Ms. Holdo.

“Ms. Tico this is Honors English, not shop class. If you could please put away your… creation. ”

You wait with bated breath. You’re not even really sure if you remember how to make jokes anymore but you do remember this one from so long ago. Don’t make me look crazy.

You get the reaction you were looking for and then some.

“ NO WAY ! ”

It’s your only warning before something your pretty sure is your name is squealed out on the other end of the line, so loudly in fact that you have to hold your phone a good distance away to avoid permanent ear damage.

A grin, half pleased, half cringing, spreads across your face as the squealing continues.

“Yes, it’s me,” you laugh.

“Oh my god. Are you back? Does this mean your back? I saw you on the cover of Wired! You looked hot !”

“Rose, one question at a time!” The bombardment usually irks you, interviewers or paparazzi stumbling over themselves just to get some dirt. But this kind feels oddly… nice? It feels genuine. Like she’s asking because she likes you. But… that can’t be the case, can it?

“Sorry, sorry!” You can practically hear her calming herself down. “Ugh, it’s just so cool to have you back in town. You are back in town right? That’s why you’re stuck on the highway?”

“Yeah. It’s my parents' thirty-fifth anniversary and I haven’t been back in about fifteen years… I thought it might be time.”

“Oh man, I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be so fun.” The heartfelt warmth of her tone makes the chilling air around you just that more bearable. But a sound cuts through from wherever she is and she turns back to friendly business. “Anyway, I’ll let you go, but I’ll see you at the shop soon! Poe left about five minutes ago, so he’s on his way. Bye!”

“Oh, alright. Uhm, bye.”

You hear a few excited giggles before the beep cuts them off, leaving you in the silent car once again, with a strange hollowness sitting sickly in your chest. It wouldn’t have been so bad to just talk a little longer. But, that was odd, wasn’t it? Maybe it only felt odd because... you couldn’t remember the last time a friend had called. When was the last time you spoke to someone who seemed to actually care about you?

Shaking your thoughts from the uneasy turn of conscious, you turned out to the sunset that has been steadily falling for the past half hour. Blinking tiredly, you hope that whoever is coming for you is quick. You attempt to recall the name she gave but it has already fallen to the back of your mind. Closing your eyes, you think it might not be a bad idea to get a tiny nap in meanwhile. Just a tiny one. Not a big -

______________

A rumbling that shakes the car jerks you out of your peaceful rest, and you shiver, the car much colder than you remember. Looking around, it’s quickly apparent your nap was much longer than the ‘tiny’ one you had so stupidly planned. It’s pitch black, the forest completely dark around you, and the only light comes from the bright headlights heading straight your way. Blinking groggily, you shield your eyes to the approaching vehicle, but the lights begin turning away, as the large truck appears to pull a U-turn, pulling in front of your car.

Oh, thank god. Your savior has arrived.

A figure steps out of what you can now see is a tow truck. A flashlight leads their way in the treacherous snow as they approach, and you step out to greet them. The bitter chill hits you instantly causing a visceral shiver to overtake your body.

“You alright there?” A warm, slightly scratched voice cuts across the wind, and your assuring smile only comes out as a grimace.

“It’s just freezing is all.”

“We’ll see if we can get you warmed up then.”

You and the man meet halfway, only a few feet apart, and with your eyes steadily adjusting and the bright moonlight above, you can now make out his features.

Dashing is the only word that comes to mind as your brain short circuits. He is handsome. He’s instantly beautiful in an almost familiar way, like you could call his features home. Warm and gorgeous dark eyes blink back in their own caught-off-guard way, as you finally come back into the moment at hand and the man standing before you.

“Wow.” He speaks in something close to a whisper, and it’s almost lost to the wind. But he clears his throat before you can ask what has him so thrown.

“You -uh- called the auto shop right?” He drags his eyes away from you and over to your sad, slumped over TIE behind you. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and drop your gaze, nodding.

“Yes. That was me. Sorry for all the trouble.”

You suddenly feel very foolish and very embarrassed. You had expected some no one townie, not this heartthrob that could have easily replaced Errol Flynn in any of his biggest features. Having him drive all the way out in this weather just to take care of your stupid car feels very rude, and you suddenly wish you knew more about cars.

“Why don’t you get situated up front and I’ll get this set up back here?”

Sneaking a glance back up, you meet his eyes and quickly look away again, nodding once more.

“Sure.”

You go to move past him, making a good few feet of footprints in the snow when a thought shoots through your brain at light speed and you’re jogging back to your car as fast as your designer boots will take you. You should have invested in a better pair of boots for the snow it seems because you don't make it very far before your front foot slips out from under you and your arms fly out looking for anything to grasp onto.

But Poe’s are quicker, instantly their firm grasp has a hold around you and your fall is cut short as you are held tightly against him.

His breath comes out as a chuckle and he looks down at you, “What’s the hurry?”

You laugh slightly too, quickly righting yourself and trying to purge the memory of his arms around you and how nice it felt.

“I forgot my bags is all.”

Without a second glance, you march, much more carefully this time, towards the back of your car.

Poe runs a hand through his curly snow-flecked hair, smirking to himself.

Ok, this could be interesting.

notes: thanks for reading!

Chapter 2 should be up soon, though I can't guarantee a strict schedule. I have this whole fic plotted out though, so we ain't winging it! We'll finish this thing!

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #hallmark au #reader insert #star wars #poe dameron imagine #mads fics #fic: Adore You

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tsukidotcom · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu HC to COVID-19 (Karasuno edition)

This is horrible 💀 im just so bored so I made whatever this mess is KFJSJDMSK enjoy

Hinata Shouyou

huh? isn’t it just the flu?

“No, hinata. People have died from it-“

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH-

goes bananas

whenever someone sneezes or coughs, his soul leaves his body as he runs away to sanitize/wash his hands for a miserably long time.

eats an expired can of peaches thinking it’s his last resort

lowkey happy school is closed because homework sucks

but also highkey hates it because now all volleyball tournaments are closed

then gets all angry when he realizes he’d have to do online school???!!?? like wtf he got jipped.

thinks they could still do volleyball if they did online calls cus if the school can do it,, then vOLLEYBALL CAN

will probably miss half of the class calls from oversleeping/forgetting anyway.

sheepishly ask yamaguchi, yachi or tsukishima for help on assignments/notes. (he will NEVA ask kageyama. he’s always in competition with him here!)

still practices volleyball 24/7 in his backyard or room (maybe even with his baby sister??)

He’s really good at practicing all by himself from practicing all alone in middle school—

but will probably go crazy being alone all the time with his family. he just wants to play volleyball with the team again.

looks up “what to do when you’re bored” or “what to do at home while in quarantine” on youtube

Kageyama Tobio

probably says he’s immune to the corona because he’s just better than everyone else

doesn’t really think it’s real until school shut down because of it

When he sees that corona is airborne he wont know what that means so he’d probably think it’s produced by air itself?? which makes him think air is trying to kill the human race?? and will be so confused as to why it decided to pop up now???

DESPISES online school. He had enough trouble understanding it from the gecko, so now he has to learn it basically all by hiMSELF?!?

And no way is he just gona email the teacher for help. If he does it’s gonna be only once in his lifetime. Anymore than that he thinks he’s doin too much. He doesn’t want his teachers thinking he’s dumb 😭

he says literally nothing during the calls he just tries to pay attention? and fails because he’s on a computer. in his room. alone. he’s bound to daze off or stare at a pen for 5 minutes.

Obvi still practices volleyball. Very much misses it. At least Hinata had his sibling to practice with him. tobio is a lone wolf in his household.

When his mom goes out to get groceries he gives her one of those doctor masks so she doesn’t catch corona.

Few moments later through the internet he realizes that corona is smaller than air molecules so if you can breathe through something you could still get it so he struggles for an hour thinking he just killed his mother

When his mom is back he keeps his distance in case she’s carrying the plague

omg did she just cough or am i imagining things no she definitely coughed she has corona oh oh god

In reality she was just clearing her throat.

is lowkey worrying about everyone and how they are 🥺 (yes, maybe even hinata).

thinks he’s science smart by calling it covid-19 than corona.

Asahi Azumane

He just worries about everyones health

like he just imagines the worst case scenario’s and starts to get really worried if people got it. Always checks on everyone and asks if they’re feeling any symptoms of corona ❤️

He’s either not gonna get it or he gets it and dies there’s no inbetween

but he’s jesus himself so theres no way he nor anyone in his bloodline can get it

is very happy to know that dogs can’t get it.

Takes online school seriously and tries his best

And is honestly so sad school just ended??? even if it’s temporary, he could be learning, playing volleyball, and going about his day instead of staying in a cage. he’s a third year so—how would graduation even go..?

always is up to date on the news !! and notifies everyone if anything important is added/changed.

Always tells everyone to stay safe! Whether through text or before ending a call.

only buys a lot of toilet paper from the fear of there being no toilet paper in stock since evERYONE IS BUYING IT-

Starts to try new hobbies that he put off for the longest time cus quarentine is rlly getting to him.

Is all out a family guy so he doesn’t mind the extra time with his family.

Nishinoya Yu

OAOAOAOAOAOAOAOAOAOA

420 blazin’

thinks going outside means you’re instantly gonna die from corona attacking your white blood cells (????)

but also probably doesnt care as he goes outside like everyday to run around and get rid of energy (and to practice volleyball, of course).

also why is it called white blood cells when blood is red ☠️ smh

Buys 101611018320129 bags of chips because that’s his comfort food

yay more gaming time!!!

Noya🐒: Tanaka do u wana play minecraft 2getr latr?

Tanaka🍌: HELL YEAH!!

doesn’t shower for three days straight because screw personal hygiene!! No more school!!! Can do whatever he wanted!! It’s basically summer!!!

until he’s forced to do online school.

Is def the class clown. Probably somehow kicks the teacher out of the call through a little bit of hacking.

“alright guys so i’ll be you’re substitute teacher for the day-“

tbh acts the same as he would in school. maybe a little more rebellious because, i mean, what is the teacher gonna do? send him to DETENTION? call his mOMMY?

Calls/spams literally everyone in his contacts because he’s so bored and lonely. Answer him!! Y’all will be on facetime for hours!!

He’s fun to facetime.

Will call you a loser if you don’t have an apple iPhone because then he can’t facetime you and facetiming is one of his favorite things to do to pass time (besides gaming)

HE A TRUE GAMER

Okay but he lowkey still tries at school for the sake of his grades and his future ;-; maybe calls asahi or sugawara for help??

always looks up his homework on the internet to see if he can get an answer key or something (he did that anyway even before corona but)

will do one subject for 3 hours thinking he’s finally done with everythinf till he realizes he has like 4 other subjects and needs to do those too.

Sending memes all the time

Tsukishima Kei

oh, what about corona again?

honestly could give NO fucks??. like ABSOLUTELY ZERO. nonxistent.

doesn’t even remember it’s still happening half the time.

is surprisingly very knowledgeable about corona.

he’s just smart and sciency¿ so he understands the ins and outs of corona like how it works and how its spread.

so if you tRULY want any update or background info on the corona virius, ask Tsukishima.

bitch don’t touch me you have rabies.

doesn’t care that he’s obligated to stay at home because he would have stayed either way. he very much likes being alone.

might go a little crazy cooped up in his room so he’ll hang with his brother/family or go outside before he says ‘okay that’s enough’ and goes back to his room.

isolation? oh okay *puts on headphones*

he rlly gonna be rocking it out in his room cus he can listen to music all day any day

developes a really bad sleep schedule since he had no way to get rid of the energy he got rid of at school.

still a huge tease so he says everyone has the corona virius.

is never online on social media which means he’s never up to date with his frIENDS. Doesn’t have a clue what those dipshits are doing and could care less (besides yamaguchi,, they probably facetime or call thru skype or something).

I bet the whole volleyball squad has a groupchat and honestly he puts all notifs on mute cus his phone keep goin DING DING DING DI DING ID DID IDKNG DING DIG

Brother: Omg why are you getting so many text messages?

Tsukki: Shut up

if he is online on the gc and he texts it would be simple replies like “Hi” “Okay.” “No.” “Goodbye.” and then he’s gone for another week

every first year is begging on their knees for tsukishima to give the answers or help them out and he obviously says: go do the hw yourselves idiots

besides yamaguchi!!!! again!! cus theyre gay for each other

maybe practices once in awhile with his brother or alone in his backyard but he doesn’t care

Tanaka Ryuunosuke

buys 101817 pounds of toilet paper because everyone else is? but not because of the same reason as asahi. he thinks toilet paper is the cure to corona.

GO STUPID AAAAAAAAA GO CRAZY AAAAAAAAAAA-

probably has a part time job at a grocery store so he still has to go to work 😭 i dont even know how he could have a job in the first place he’s probably always late-

still gamin with noya of course

GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM IM PLAYING MINECRAFTT

also buys like all the junk food thats in stock. and since he works at the grocery store he gets a ton of coupons and deals.

texts Kiyoko everyday goodmorning ❤️❤️❤️ and goodnight 😘😘 texts just to be left on read.

“i love it when she ignores me !!!”

scrolls through tiktoks for 1000 hours to pass time

School Is For Losers!!

similar to noya, he thought it was basicaly summer until he realized they were gonna be doing online school. literally had a fit and said he didnt wanna do jack squAt

Laughs so hard when nishinoya somehow kicks the teacher out of the call he’s like laughing so loud and hard he starts crying

all of the sudden has a better view on school

gets excited when he sees nishinoya on the call

makes funny and ugly ass faces when the teacher isn’t looking. everyone laughs and the teacher’s like 🤨

probably uses the green screen effect so he can change hus background (somehow) and accidentally misclicks a file so a girl wit a bikini becomes his background for .5 seconds before changing it to a cursed meme:

doesn’t get half the shit the teacher is talking about

but it’s okay because the half he doesn’t get is the other half noya gets

and the half noya doesnt get is the orher half tanaka gets

they’re two peas in a pod 🥰

until they try explaining it to each other and suddenly get confused?? mental malfunction ¿?

yeah im SMART!!!

s -

m -

a -

r - penis

t -

Daichi Sawamura

quite calm about the whole coronavirus

like he knows it is serious and understands how it is spread but he’s still calm about it??

tells everyone to sanitize and wash hands on a regular. and social distancing!!

honestly still wakes up like he does on normal school days and does all his academics just fine.

he even does gym activities (besides volleyball) for 30 minutes to an hour!!!! he be running on that treadmil! getting stronk!

does each subject on his own for 20-40 min each day. he’s really good at self discipline

makes sure sugawara and asahi are up to date on school work and will gladly help.

sadly can’t help the first years (and probably second years) because that info is deep in his brain and basically forgot how to do it after a year or two of not using it.

VERY VERY VERY sad that volleyball nationals are cut off. this is his last year and for it to be??? gone??? just because of some flu?!?! hates it.

he wishes school to go back and still has hope that school will go back to normal in a couple of weeks (even though it’s a slim chance).

asks the teacher questions whenever he has questions. He’s also vv considerate so he’ll ask questions he knows the answer to but asks them for anyone who’s confused ab it/wants to ask but is too shy. (literally i lov daichi sm)

Eats a healthy amount of everything

asks asahi for any updates on corona even though he’s quite up to date himself. he just wanna make sure he didn’t miss anything.

also doesn’t mind being around his family. he’ll do more chores around the house to help his parents out :> he’s literally perfect wtf

def does worry about everyone in the volleyball gc and anyone else he has contact with. Will also email classmates and ask if they’re doing all right. Even away from volleyball he’s a team player ☺️✌️

Is happy for the rest of the day when asahi tells him dogs can’t get corona.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

oaoaiquqhdkoaiaagadjsiwi?

doesn’t know what to believe anymore

keeps in touch with everyone!! always online 24/7 on social media, vball gc, you name it.

Literally everyone is acting so normal why are people so calm am i the only one worrying about this and the worlds future like this year has been really bad so far for not just me but the whole nation actually the entire world honestly like war almost broke out in january and now this corona stuff is really buttering my crissont the wrong way-

Even though tsukishima literally gives No Fucks, yamaguchi is the complete opposite.

like tsukki and yamaguchi call on skype and eVERY TIME yamaguchi starts with ‘how have you been? do you feel sick at all? have you drank enough water today?’ and so on

“What are you even worrying about?”

“Well...what if you get the corona virius?... it can be deadly, you know!! Thousands of people have died from it!!! The fact school is shutting down and people are panicking is making me feel like i should be panicking-“

Tsukki will then snarkily reassure him it’s fine and people their age are the least likely to get it bad.

Yamaguchi will feel a little better afterwords

“Thank you, Tsukki!”

Tsukki will ‘tch’ it off

Even though he gets really good grades he has triuble finding motivation to do any school work?? doing school work in his own home? 😐

His home was kinda a place he can chill whereas school is a place he can be fully focused

but now his home is ALSO school??!!?

Luckily he understands the work, at least.

When he sees tsukishima on the call, too, he instantly says hello.

“Tsukki!! Hey!! 😁”

“Shut up.”

“Gomen, Tsukki.”

Yeah. Even when they aren’t at school, he’s still the same as always.

He takes extra care of his family and always stays in touch with other relatives. Especially grandpa and grandma. THE SECOND he learned elderly people are at more risk you bet your ass he’s calling them making sure they’re okay. He checks up on them everyday now.

He peobably practices volleyball a little, too. He’s more focused on schoolwork though.

Sugawara Koushi

Have you guys ate dinner yet? 🥺

obviously checking up on everyone

he would fail as a mother if he didn’t.

Actually reads in his free time?? He finally has time on his hands to read these books so.... here we are!

Wakes up at a scheduled time everyday (minus weekends. Maybe sleeps for an extra hour or so).

He dresses in pjs rather than actual clothes because he’s not going anywhere with this social distancing thing.

Always tries to lighten the mood when all the students are on the online call. Maybe crack some joke or innocently play around with the effects.

He still pays close attention in class and does quite well on his own. No help from his parents! He can do everything on his own! He a big boi!

Does homework really well, too. Probably does extra work or more work than needed just because it makes him feel good afterwords.

Honestly i can see him cooking in his free time. If he doesnt feel like reading or scrolling mindlessly through his phone, he gonna cook.

Will make the best cookies in the universe.

HAS A HECK OF A SWEET TOOTH. NOT A DAY GOES BY WITHOUT HIM GETTING HIS PRETTY HANDS ON SUM TREAT

Honestly isn’t too good with exercise so he might gain a few pounds or grow the smallest chub 🥺🥺🥺 he would be so cute omfg.

is realy involved with his family!! they play a board/card game every friday night and have the best time.

if he has a dog, cat, or literally any animal you know he’s gona be hanging with them since he has more time.

Still! Playing! Volleyball! I mean by now every boy is practicing at least a little bit. He would probably be in his backyard playing volleyball with his family. Theyy’d set up a net and everythin! They’re all rookies at it but he still cherishes the moments with them.

It’s honestly still practice. Better than nothing

He talks about how his family plays volleyball and everyone is so jealous like 😭😭 makes him more grateful hearing half the volleyball team saying they have to practice alone.

Watching youtube videos of random videos/vines making him giggling.

“Hey, Dachi, look at this video.”

IS A SWEETHEART STFU !!!

34 notes · View notes

lovenliterature · 4 years

Text

My thoughts on folklore

(all my personal stuff will be crossed out so u can skip if you want)

the 1

Giving me strong first love vibes

Highly vibe with thinking you’ve seen your ex when you haven’t, such a frequent experience

V much reminds me of Stan and like, its nice to imagine what could have been without disliking how things are

Like the line about how you should show if you want someone, prevents complacency and I like that, love is work and when you forget that inevitably it falls apart

It’s also kinda nice to realise how many things lead you to where you are - if one thing was different it would all change

Comfy reminiscence

Favourite lyric: in my defense, i have none/for digging up the grave another time

cardigan

feels quite a mature outlook on a relationship

V pragmatic

the first notes, straight into lyrics that just fill me with nostalgia

also like its not denying your feelings, you still feel like an old cardigan but you feel special AS that without changing

Peter losing Wendy is such a good line 10/10

Music vid gets points too tbh

Oof chasing shadows in the grocery line is high key relatable (literally being at uni with my ex anyone)

Stars around my scars now i’m bleeding feels like he’s distracting from the hurt he’s causing, he heals wounds while causing others god this is a mess

Favourite lyric: chase two girls, lose the one/when you are young, they assume you know nothing

the last great american dynasty

Probably one of the closest things to a bop on the album?

the font and background in the lyric vid are perfect

love the juxtaposition with the wedding was charming/if a little gauche and the parties were tasteful/if a little loud - it’s like she’s so close to being accepted but it’s always tinged with disapproval

Favourite lyric: either she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green or free of women with madness/their men and bad habits (the bridge is just stunning)

exile

god what do i even say about exile??

Made me fucking bawl my eyes out the first time I heard it

the two perspectives are just so relatable and heartbreaking

Choosing Bon Iver to collab with?? Perfect, the voices mesh so well and its just gorgeous

the opening verse is very relatable and its so well articulated and Justin Vernon’s voice just really hits home

the I gave so many signs is high key relatable and i really really feel that

Also just the concept of both of them being left with no home - 10/10, no breakup is seamless

Favourite lyric: like he’s just your understudy - it feels like you’re gonna jump right back in but you’re not, you’ve been recast

my tears ricochet

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace/And you're the hero flying around, saving face - big oooooof, such a good way of showing how victims are expected to be the bigger person and be grateful idk

‘Cause when I’d fight you used to tell me I was brave - This is so relatable, like whenever you cut ties/fall out with someone you love this is such a strong feeling, they’re usually the ones backing you up and now its them you’re fighting with and that’s hard to reconcile

the bridge!!! OMG!!

Favourite lyric: and I can go anywhere I want/Anywhere I want, just not home

mirrorball

Also one that’s close to a bop

And I’m still a believer and I don’t know why - I know its not about disillusionment with politics/humanity but for me it’s very much, I want to believe in the goodness of people but fuck it’s hard

Favourite lyric: you’re not like the regulars/the masquerade revellers

seven

My favourite song literally from the second I heard it

Like the whole vibe is so very me

and though I can’t recall your face/I still got love for you

Very much reminds me of Sam, I can’t remember that much about him but I can remember how close we were and how important he was to me and I wish nothing but good for him

Love you to the Moon and to Saturn - sounds like it was written for me at about 7, Saturn was my favourite planet and this was the kind of music I listened to at that age, just v nostalgic

Verse 2 is just my favourite part of the whole song, the melody, hiding in the closet, everything. That youthful naivety really makes me think of my friends when i was little. Even when i had problems with my own dad i desperately wanted to rationalise my friend’s dad’s anger to protect her and she practically did come live with us.

Favourite lyric: And we can be pirates/Then you won’t have to cry/Or hide in the closet

august

Wow this one has about a million and one different meanings for me

Summer fling, being used, reminds me of a CERTAIN SOMEONE, took place either side of August especially with the alcohol imagery

Whispers of are you sure? - first relationship, so good at making me comfortable, let me take the lead

Will you call when you’re back at school? - first relationship, long distance

I remember thinkin’ I had you, both situations, the non-relationship thinking it could be more and the relationship thinking I wasn’t gonna lose him

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets - first relationship, the first time we had sex and just the first times we were able to relax and be open with each other, really nice innocent memory

Favourite lyric: August sipped away like a bottle of wine

this is me trying

Back to December vibes

Also sad vibes, no fixing what you’ve fucked up but you’ve gotta try

I don’t wanna relate too hard because relating to it means thinking about things I can't fix

Favourite lyric: They told me all of my cages were mental/So I got wasted like all my potential

illicit affairs

Make sure nobody sees you leave/hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Feeling of hiding and being hidden, not sustainable

You feel like you aren’t worth loving, aren’t worth people knowing you love them

A drug that only worked/the first few hundred times

Hmmmm Patch who the fuck could this apply to????

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me and For you, I would ruin myself

Value yourself higher boy but yes about a certain someone

Favourite lyric: And clandestine meetings and stolen stares/they show their truth one single time/but they lie and they lie and they lie

invisible string

Green was the colour of the grass/Where I used to read at Centennial Park juxtaposed with introducing him to Centennial Park - GORGEOUS, and highkey relatable

A string that pulled me/out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar - it’s always nice to see how relationships that didn’t work out can set you up for a better future

Favourite lyric: hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

mad woman

They strike to kill, and you know I will - yess bitch be angry

And there’s nothing like a mad woman - the notes and the delivery on woman give me CHILLS

The Pre-Chorus is gold, really relate to intensifying aspects of you that are criticised because yeah, fuck them

Favourite lyrics: No one likes a mad woman/what a shame she went mad/you made her like that

epiphany

Does this make me cry almost every time I hear it? Yes

The first verse being about war also makes me think about the mythologisation of healthcare workers as heroes, allowing governments to sacrifice them as martyrs

The melody of the whole song is gorgeous

Favourite lyric: Something med school did not cover/someone’s daughter, someone’s mother/holds your hand through plastic now

the medics are equipped to deal with the practicalities of treating people but not the emotions and not the feeling of not being able to help or even let someone die with their loved ones

betty

I am not sapphic but this gives me major sapphic vibes and I would die for betty

Give betty all the rights

Such a nostalgic vibe, fearless/fifteen/white horse/love story sound and i am HERE FOR IT

Also lots of red references and i love that

Really like figment of my worst intentions, turns a usually somewhat positive image upside down

In front of all your stupid friends? - really dude?? You cheated on her and now you’re insulting her friends??? What the fuck

Will it patch your broken wings? is a pretty line though

Favourite lyric: Would you tell me to go fuck myself?

peace

Natural assumption is that it’s about finding peace with a partner, i really like that it’s the opposite, committing to a relationship despite the chaos, despite the lack of peace

But I would die for you in secret - in the age of social media knowing someone has your back whether or not others are watching is so important (yes this sounds very pretentious i just mean like knowing that you’ve got that person no matter what is so important)

Favourite lyrics: Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other/Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

hoax

The vibe is just very calm and melancholy and i rate that

I am ash from your fire - this is such a good rep of toxic relationships, defined in relation to your partner, burnt by their bright flames, left behind

Favourite lyric: You knew it still hurts underneath my scars/from when they pulled me apart/but what you did was just as dark

#folklore #taylor swift #ts8 #my writing #music #lyrics #my thoughts on music

7 notes · View notes

kickstillkickin · 4 years

Text

Klance Month 2020 Day 2 - Coffee Shop

Keith had never been more exhausted in his life. The bar had kept him late because some asshole thought it was a splendid idea to throw up all over the bathroom and not tell any of the staff. Then Shiro had called him in a panic, because it was his and Adam's two year anniversary tomorrow and the dolt had forgotten to get a present. Cue a caffeine-fueled run to Walmart, accompanied by his dumbass brother, to purchase a photo album for all Shiro's spare copies. Upon finally arriving home, he discovered that his upstairs neighbors had been arguing themselves halfway to a divorce and seemed determined that the whole complex be made aware of it. He spent all of twenty minutes trying to fall asleep before he gave into his lesser self and took a couple doses of NyQuil. The medicine netted him a grand total of two hours of sleep. It felt more like negative twelve. He was completely awake when his alarm went off and felt like death.

The sun was too bright when he stepped outside the apartment, wearing a work shirt that had a stain and two different shoes. Keith wondered if it was because he hadn't noticed or because he hadn't cared. He pondered the answer during his commute until even rational thought proved too exhausting. Fifteen minutes later, he stepped off the bus in a daze and glared at the bright neon sign, declaring this hellhole of a location to be Beans N' Stuff, a local eclectic's personal venture into the coffee business. He didn't usually mind working there. Then again, he didn't usually show up looking paler than a ghost and more interested in digging his own grave than interacting with another human being.

A little bell rang when he opened the door. He paused a moment to glare at it, contemplating the consequences of ripping it from the door frame. Then thinking hurt too much again. He trudged into the back and collected his cap and apron. As he was signing in to the register, a familiar presence appeared over his shoulder. Ignoring it, he finished his task and moved past his coworker to the coffee machine.

Pidge didn't even have time to express their totally expected and completely warranted "you look like shit" before Keith flipped open his thermos, added no less than four shots of espresso, a 5-hour Energy that appeared out of thin air, and filled the rest with black coffee. He closed the lid and downed half the thermos in a few swallows. Pidge amended their statement. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Do not speak to me. I have seen hell and will murder anyone who speaks too loudly," he snapped.

"You know what, that's valid, but Matt isn't here and Coran says I'm not allowed to operate the register," they informed him.

Keith glared at his thermos. "If God exists, he is a cruel being. And as soon as I get some sleep, I'm gonna kick his ass."

"I'll be in the back," Pidge said diplomatically. They weren't touching anything about the situation with a ten foot pole.

Keith sipped his thermos and resigned himself to an eight-hour shift. He opened up shop, took orders, and answered customers' dumb questions like a good little employee. When his thermos was empty, he refilled the same order and chugged it again. To keep a poker face, he tried to think happy thoughts. Like murdering his brother, or maybe his neighbors. The longer he stood listening to out-dated pop songs, he added the owner of the damned shop to the list. Customers came and went in a blur. He thought he remembered Pidge asking if he needed a break, but couldn't recall his answer.

Then he walked in. The most attractive creature to ever grace the earth. A customer that was not quite a regular, but Keith had seen him more than once. He seemed to be nothing more than a harmless flirt, and someone who could only dish it out, at that. But those blue eyes were going to be the death of Keith's gay ass. Just, they were going to be the death of him tomorrow. After he died of exhaustion today.

"I'll have a salted caramel white chocolate mocha with whipped cream."

Though physically repulsed by just hearing how much sugar was in the order, he punched it into the computer and kept a straight face. "Can I get a name for the order?"

"The name's Lance," Handsome Almost-Regular said with what seemed to be a flirty undertone.

Keith nodded and typed the name in. "Your total is $5.67."

Lance paid and Keith informed him that his order would be ready momentarily. Pidge prepared it in record time, and even went so far as to nudge him rather aggressively with her elbow. Keith was both confused and offended. He took the cup to the front counter. "Lance," he called out in a dead monotone.

"You know, that's not how people usually call out my name," Lance purred as he leaned over the counter.

Keith was exhausted, barely functioning, and not paid enough to deal with things like this. He did not think about the words that came out of his mouth. "Sorry, I'll try to sound more disappointed next time."

The look on Lance's face was akin to that of the surprised pikachu meme. Pidge hung out the doorway from the back, shocked beyond belief. Unbothered, Keith handed him the coffee cup, mumbled something about having a nice day, and moved on to helping the next customer. It was not until Lance had left the coffee shop near tears, leaving behind a dumbfounded audience and an exasperated coworker, that Keith's lagging brain finally processed the whole conversation.

"Shit!"

"I think that was some kind of record. Most idiotic gay barista turns away interested party and gives him emotional trauma, all in less than five minutes," Pidge told him.

Keith had thoroughly and completely fucked up. Oh, and he needed a nap.

. . .

By the time he trudged into work the next day, Keith had come to the conclusion that God was not only real, he was also dedicated solely to fucking with him as much as possible. Despite having the night off from bartending, he'd hardly slept, too tormented by the idiocy of his own stupid actions. Pidge had texted to make fun of him no less than seven times, and had undoubtedly told their entire circle of friends about it. At the very least, Matt didn't say anything when he walked in looking like death twice over.

"You want the front or the back today?" Matt asked as Keith signed in.

What if Lance came back? Keith should be working up front so he could apologize. Then, a second, more horrifying thought occurred to him. What if Lance came back? He couldn't allow himself to be seen. Lance needed to think that he'd crawled into a hole and died, never to be seen by the general populace again. He would willingly go down in history as the world's dumbest and least functional gay if it meant never having to make meaningful contact with Hot Coffee Customer ever again.

"The back," Keith said solemnly, though it felt more like he was reading out his sentence then answering his coworker's question.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Matt told him, patting him on the shoulder.

Keith resigned himself to a shift with this older, subtler brand of Pidge insults. As he turned to start prepping the machines, he caught Matt whipping out his phone. His coworker typed out, "u owe me 20 bucks" and hit send with a bit too much satisfaction. So Pidge and Matt had taken bets on his answer. Smart of Matt to pick the more cowardly option, he thought to himself as he washed his hands. Dysfunctional gays tended toward dysfunction, after all. He busied himself with cleaning out the coffee pots while Matt opened up shop.

As much as Keith tried to drive the catastrophic events of yesterday from his thoughts, he still flinched every time that damned bell rang. Matt greeted customers like a goddamn proper employee. Something Keith was apparently not. No, he just insulted them and moved on. But only if they flirted with him. Everyone else just got the monotone customer service voice. Lance? Emotional trauma for him, of course. The same train of thought played in his head on a loop as he prepared orders and sent them out. He tried to ignore the handful of female customers that flirted with his coworker and grit his teeth whenever Matt flirted back. Something else he was evidently incapable of.

Just a few hours into his shift, the strangest order came in. A salted caramel white chocolate mocha with whipped cream. Why was that familiar? Had an obnoxious white girl ordered it? Keith racked his brain and found himself drawing a blank. The only thing he remembered was-

Of course! Another look at the screen told him the customer's name was Lance. How many Lance's lived in one city, went to the same coffee shop, and ordered the exact same disgusting sugar-filled drink? Keith prepped the order, determined to make amends with the world's stupidest and most inept attempt at flirting: a bad pun on the coffee cup, written over his phone number. Matt took the coffee from him and handed it to the customer. He prayed to whatever deities were willing to listen that he hadn't just made the second biggest mistake of his life.

Matt found him like that a few seconds later when he stepped into the back for a moment. "Hey Keith, I think that was the guy insulted yesterday," Matt informed him. "Pidge's description was spot on."

"Was it? I had no idea," Keith said with a shrug, preparing the next order.

Disappointed that he'd failed to get a rise out of his coworker (and probably more disappointed that he had nothing to report to his gremlin of a sibling), Matt returned to the front and left him alone for the rest of his shift.

Keith felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Even if Hot Coffee Stranger forever hated his guts for his complete social ineptitude, he'd managed to apologize. Now, of course, there was plenty of room in his chest for anxiety over Lance's response. Would he text? Would he call? Would it be right away? Would he wait? Was he going to report him to the police and get a restraining order? It was truly a coin toss. At the very least, the unsettling feeling in his chest was better than the heavy knowledge of his own stupidity.

Closing came sooner than he expected. Keith waved Matt off as he walked the short distance to the bus stop. As he settled into his seat, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text message. From an unknown number. Keith couldn't help the stupid grin that was stuck on his face all the way home.

. . .

Lance let out a huge sigh of relief as he exited the coffee shop. His plan had been to look for the barista through the front window. If it was the same asshole as yesterday, he would walk right on by and mournfully purchase his morning pick-me-up from another shop. He hadn't recognized the employee working, and didn't even see so much as a mullet-shaped hair of He Who Shall Not Be Named. Then, right as he went to take a sip of his delicious, precious coffee, he saw writing.

I regret yesterday a latte

Call me?

XXX-XXX-XXXX

It was the dumbest pickup line he'd ever heard in his life, and some of the competition were pickup lines he himself had used. But it made him laugh. And, now that he thought about it, that barista had looked a little worse for wear. He was definitely cute enough to be given another chance. Any gay idiot who wrote bad coffee puns on a coffee cup was definitely someone Lance could spend some time getting to know. The barista didn't need to know that, though. He'd probably wait a few hours before texting him. And then a few more, just to make him sweat.

Lance took a sip of his coffee, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Maybe he'd even wait a few more after that.

#KlanceAUMonth #klance #kick #keith kogane #lance mcclain #a consistent writing style? in this house?#unlikely #my writing

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Paper Rings (Witney) - opalescentcheetah

A/N: To the anon who requested a fic with “Paper Rings” by Taylor Swift in it: here you go! This was so much fun to write, and I hope it was worth the wait!

Summary: “Courtney giggles quietly to herself, tucking the slip of paper into her pocket. There must be more of them hidden somewhere… Willam’s playing a game, and Courtney’s going to win it.”

Willam, 5:51 pm: play this song on ur way home xx

Courtney smiles to herself, sliding into the driver’s seat and hitting play. A steady beat fills the car, and she finds herself bobbing her head, humming wordlessly along as the second chorus starts playing.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that’s right

Darling, you’re the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this…”

Courtney is surprised to find the apartment empty when she arrives, the hallways eerily quiet and dark. She flicks a switch, flooding the entryway with golden light, and calls out for Willam.

The only reply she gets is the echo of her own tired voice.

She pulls out her phone, intending to text Willam, but finding instead that she received a message while she was driving home.

Willam, 6:04 pm: Out running errands. I left some stuff around the house that u should go look for ;)

Stuff? Courtney isn’t sure she has the patience for this, but she can’t say no to Willam.

Courtney, 6:08 pm: Ok. See you soon <3

If she can’t have a greeting kiss from Willam, then Courtney wants a drink. There’s a clear, empty glass on the bench that, curiously, doesn’t even seem to have been used – there aren’t any lipstick stains on the rim.

It takes her a moment to notice the small white object curled in the bottom of the glass. Tipping it into her palm, she finds a slip of paper, rolled and twisted into the shape of a ring.

Paper rings.

Courtney has known Willam long enough to know she’s planning something. She feels a small spark of excitement building in her chest, her exhaustion forgotten as she unravels the paper ring. Willam’s rough, quick letters are cramped into the small space, smudges of blue ink peppering the edge of the paper.

Remember that night when we first met? I was high as fuck and you were so unimpressed. Well, look where we are now!

She’s sixteen, in a foreign country, lost and alone in a world of people that already seem to know each other.

She misses Vanity. She misses Lisa and Jess, and even all the others that she didn’t know quite so well. At least she knew their names; here, she knows nothing about no-one.

That is, except for Alaska. Courtney’s not sure where she’d be without her. Alaska is like her Northern Star, guiding her through all the ins and outs of American high school.

“You’re still coming tonight, right?” Alaska drawls, rocking back in her chair. Courtney watches as she blows a blossom-pink bubble, hears the satisfying snap as it pops again.

“Yeah,” is all she manages.

“Are you nervous?”

It’s only been a week and Alaska already seems to know her inside-out. She shrugs, feigning nonchalance.

“I mean, a little bit, I guess… But it’s an opportunity to meet new people, so of course I’m going.”

“Good.” Alaska smiles at her, and Courtney feels a little more relaxed. “I want you to meet some of my other friends, and then we can all hang out together.”

The bell rings a moment later, and Alaska is the first to stand. “I’ll see you there!” she calls, waving cheerfully as she disappears into the swarm of unfamiliar faces.

Courtney waits outside, tugging nervously at her skirt as she waits for Alaska. She arrives in a whirlwind, linking her arm with Courtney’s and dragging her through the gate into the noise and electric lights. Courtney stumbles along, not quite sure where they’re going, but content to simply trail behind her.

“Sharon! Willam!” Alaska calls out over the din of other partygoers. Courtney follows her gaze to see two girls leaning languidly against a nearby wall. One raises her arm in a casual wave whilst the other stares lazily onwards, hardly moving a muscle. Alaska pulls Courtney to a halt before them, grinning brightly.

“You guys, meet Courtney. She’s new, from Australia. Courtney, this is Willam, and Sharon.” Alaska points to them in turn, and Courtney can only nod dizzily.

“From down undah, hey?” Willam queries, putting on a false, over-exaggerated Australian accent. “What’s it like coming from nowhere land?”

“Willam!” Sharon hisses, elbowing her sharply. “Don’t be rude.”

Willam just laughs, her movements slow and lethargic. Courtney doesn’t even need to look at the joint she raises to her lips to know she’s high. She chooses to ignore Willam, instead extending her hand to Sharon to shake.

“Don’t wanna pay me any attention, princess?” Willam asks, when it becomes clear Courtney isn’t going to offer her the same formality. She sticks her arm out, waggling her fingers in Courtney’s face.

Courtney bats her away, slightly exasperated. “Definitely not after that awful Australian accent,” she quips, feeling pleased when Alaska and Sharon promptly burst out laughing. Willam frowns, something flashing strangely in her eyes. Courtney looks away from the streaks of colour in her hair, watching as the smoke spirals up towards the moon.

Courtney giggles quietly to herself, tucking the slip of paper into her pocket. There must be more of them hidden somewhere… Willam’s playing a game, and Courtney’s going to win it.

She downs a glass of water as she considers where to look. Their apartment isn’t large, but there are countless nooks and crannies Willam could hide an inconspicuous paper ring in.

It takes several moments of drumming her fingers against the glass for her to realise that she’s still wearing her work clothes, her collar done up tight and stockings itchy against her legs. Upon deciding that a treasure hunt would be much more enjoyable in pajamas, Courtney wanders down the hall into the bedroom.

The sheets are immaculately made, and there’s a small pile of clothes sitting on the edge that Courtney soon realises are her pajamas. Usually, she’d leave them in a haphazard mess somewhere on the ground or on her pillow, and they would still be there when she returned home. Her heart fizzles with warmth when she realises Willam took the time to carefully fold each garment, creating a neat stack at the foot of the bed.

And, alas, there is the second paper ring, the crowning glory of the pajama pile. Courtney sinks onto the mattress, muscles relaxing as she unravels the second note.

Remember when I made you jump in the pool with me in the middle of winter? Alaska said it was cause you were so stupidly in love with me that you’d do anything I asked you to. I think I was a little bit stupidly in love with you, too.

Willam’s explosive splash sends water surging over the edge of the pool, spraying the cold stone and wetting Courtney’s feet. She shivers, standing in the brisk wintry breeze, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders.

It’s her first American winter, and Courtney is struggling to acclimate. She’s used to the warmer Australian weather, when she could wander around the school grounds with nothing but a jumper over her stiff school dress.

And yet, here’s Willam, leaping into her backyard pool in late November, when the trees have shed their leaves and the sky is crisp and cold. Courtney watches as her head breaks the water, the edges of her eyes crinkling in laughter. She looks gorgeous with her hair fanning out behind her, strands of blonde and pink and blue like the arms of a jellyfish.

“You two should come in!” Willam calls out, failing to hide how her teeth are chattering. “It’s real nice!”

Alaska scoffs beside Courtney, shooting Willam a withering look. “I wouldn’t trust you to run a business,” she comments, covering her smile with one hand. “You’d never sell anything when you’re that unconvincing.”

“You bitch,” Willam gasps, disappearing under the water again. Its surface ripples in the breeze, distorting the shape of her slender figure as she paddles to the pool’s edge. Courtney doesn’t take her eyes off of her as she surges up again, spraying water across the stone as she shakes her sodden hair out of her face.

“I’m convincing,” Willam promises, eyes darting over to meet Courtney’s. “You’ll come in, won’t you, Court? Show Alaska how nice it is for me.” She shoots her a winning smile, perfect teeth flashing in the winter sun, and Courtney forgets how to say no.

She can’t resist Willam. She hasn’t been able to for months now; seeing her always sends a rush of warmth through Courtney’s chest, like a swarm of butterflies with delicate wings tickling her ribcage. It makes her crazy, makes her want to see and touch and just be near Willam whenever she can. She’s not sure whether she loves or hates it; whether she wants to hug or to slap Alaska for forcing them to become friends.

Her body seems to move without command, stripping her of her jacket, her shirt, and her skin-tight blue jeans. She sees Alaska’s jaw drop, watches as Willam’s eyes light up in triumphant delight.

“Court…” Alaska’s voice is slow, the hint of a warning lacing her words. “Don’t be dumb… You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

Courtney’s standing at the edge of the pool now, icy water lapping at her bare toes. “Willam seems fine,” she replies simply, not giving herself a moment to reconsider before she plunges into the cold, blue depths.

‘Cold’ is an understatement, as Courtney soon discovers. The water is frigid, chilling her straight to her bones. Her limbs stiffen, momentarily frozen in shock, leaving her drifting deeper in a cloud of bubbles.

And then she sees a dark shape floating closer, a halo of gold hair around gaunt, elegant cheekbones.

Willam grabs Courtney’s hand in the water, sending that familiar rush of warmth through her body, and suddenly she remembers how to move. They kick upwards together, breaking into the crisp, clear air, and Courtney can breathe again. She feels a laugh bubble up inside her, giddy and warm despite the blueness of her lips.

“You’re both stupid,” Alaska tells them, shaking her head exasperatedly. “So, so stupid.”

And Courtney just giggles, happy to be here with her best friends, Willam’s arm pressed lightly against hers.

The next ring is in the bathroom.

Courtney finds it coiled around the faucet when she goes to use the toilet. Too excited to dry her hands properly, she unravels the slip of paper with damp fingers, smudges of blue coming away on her skin.

Remember our stupid fight? You were nice enough to take me home despite everything. I wanted to kiss you that night, but I was a pussy.

Courtney hasn’t talked to Willam in months.

She sees her at play rehearsal and in passing in the halls, but Willam never looks back. Her stormy eyes are always as cold and hard as steel, drilling holes in the ground with her gaze whenever Courtney is in her vicinity.

Watching Willam drift away was like losing a limb. The ghost sensation of her body beside Courtney’s was always there, pulling her deeper into its ethereal embrace and whispering cruel things in her ear. She can still feel it now, in the pounding of her heart whenever she sees Willam and the prickling of her skin when she brushes past.

Courtney would be a fool to pretend she didn’t know what was wrong. The musical the school had chosen to put on this year was one of Willam’s favourites, and when Courtney had snagged the lead role, Willam stormed off to wallow in her own jealousy. Courtney couldn’t believe Willam was stubborn enough to let such a meaningless situation worry her for so long, but at the same time, she herself didn’t know what to do about it. Willam wouldn’t do so much as look at her, not even when they were side-by-side on the stage, shivering under the scrutinising glare of their drama teacher.

“There,” Courtney gasps, pushing the last set board into the storage room. “That’s all of them, right?”

“Yep.” Bianca wipes her palms on her paint-splattered jeans. “Thanks for helping out.”

“My pleasure.” Courtney pauses, meeting Bianca’s hazelnut eyes. “How did you like the show?”

“How did I find it? Well, from the perspective of a crew member sitting backstage most of the time, you all sounded pretty good.”

Courtney visibly flushes, heat flooding her cheeks. “Shit, sorry. Stupid question.”

“Yeah, it was,” Bianca laughs, flashing her dimples. “Anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Courtney waves as Bianca disappears through the backstage door. The auditorium is eerily quiet now that she’s the only one there; the shadows beneath the seats seem darker, the fluorescent lights too bright. She throws on her jacket as she exits out the front of the school, the cool air immediately brushing goosebumps over her skin. A flash of movement catches her attention, and she’s shocked to find Willam there, leaning casually against the school gate as she waits in the dark. She doesn’t acknowledge Courtney, staring resolutely out into the night instead.

Courtney decides that it can’t hurt to at least try at conversation. She sidles up next to Willam, struggling to keep a cool façade. Sometimes she wonders how Willam does it.

“What are you still doing here?” Courtney’s voice hardly sounds like her own, delicate and soft, as though Willam’s a wild animal she’s scared of chasing off. She wonders, briefly, if Willam will even respond.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Willam shrugs briskly, eyes looking anywhere but at Courtney.

“My parents couldn’t come ’til a little later, so I helped the crew pack up.”

“Good for you,” Willam snaps, crossing her arms. Courtney doesn’t miss the goosebumps crawling across her skin or the way she shivers, curling in closer to herself. “My folks forgot about me.”

Pity pierces Courtney’s heart like a knife, and the words spill out before she can stop them. “Come home with me,” she blurts out, immediately wishing she hadn’t said anything. “I-I mean, it’s probably easier, since – since you live so far away and all. I, uh… you look cold.” She finishes lamely, twisting the hem of her jacket in her fingers.

It feels like an eternity before Willam finally replies. Courtney’s heart skips a beat when Willam looks at her again, meeting her eyes for the first time in months. “Are you sure?” is all she says, and Courtney’s immediately nodding, hardly able to believe what’s happening.

“I… uh, thanks.” Willam drops her gaze again and Courtney wants nothing more than to tilt her chin up, stare into those stormcloud eyes and tell her it’s all okay. But she keeps her words to herself instead, letting herself wonder what Willam might say if she told her how much she missed her.

Willam, 6:26 pm: You see a pattern yet? ;) ;)

A pattern? Courtney’s already noticed how the stories have been in chronological order, but she thought it might’ve just been coincidence.

Wait. No.

Willam’s trail of paper rings has followed her usual post-work routine. Get a drink. Get changed, use the bathroom.

Eat dinner.

The next ring is in the kitchen.

Courtney dashes down the hall as fast as her tired legs will allow, nearly slipping on the polished wood floors. She scans the countertop and their small dining table, even going so far as to check every chair, but there is no sign of a small white ring. The seconds tick by as she stands alone, breathing quietly in the wash of artificial gold light.

Think, Courtney. Dinner. Dinner…

“The fridge!” she gasps aloud, nearly knocking her hip on the counter in her haste to get there. Last night’s leftover Chinese is still stashed away, ready to be reheated and eaten again.

Sure enough, the ring is there, perched atop the Tupperware container. Courtney feels a spark of triumph when she sees it. She’s getting the hang of Willam’s little game, unspoken rules cementing themselves in her mind.

Remember that game of Spin the Bottle, when we accidentally went from friends to this? Fate knew what it was doing when it put you in my lap.

The music pounds through Courtney’s bones, tremors in the ground sending shivers of adrenaline through her veins. The empty bottle glints in the dim light, beckoning her, and she closes her fingers around it.

The exhilaration is palpable, burning through every fibre of her body and fizzling in the air. It might just be a stupid party game, but it feels to Courtney like a time of exploration. Like this might be a little taste of freedom.

“Spin it! Spin it!” Alaska starts a low chant, and soon the others are joining in until there is a chorus of voices pressing in on Courtney’s skin.

She spins, and the room falls silent, everyone’s eyes on the whirling bottle. Courtney waits with bated breath as it slows, and stops, the narrow end pointing like a compass needle straight at…

Willam.

Courtney’s breath hitches in her throat, heart pounding at her ribs as though it wants to be set free. Willam beckons her over, eyebrows quirked playfully, and Courtney wonders how she looks so calm. Every inch of her skin feels like it’s burning as she crawls across the circle to sit beside her, just close enough for their skin to brush.

“What, are you scared?” Willam teases, and Courtney hears someone snicker.

“O-Of course not.” She’s struggling to keep her voice steady, gaze flickering from Willam’s face to the ground and back again.

“Pussy,” Willam whispers as she leans in, and Courtney shivers despite Willam’s hot breath on her skin, every touch burning through Courtney’s flesh.

And then their lips are meeting, and Courtney forgets how to think. She can’t remember how long she’s wanted this for – this moment, with Willam’s fingertips lightly tracing her jawline and her mouth against Courtney’s, is the only thing that’s ever seemed to matter.

All too soon they’re breaking apart. Willam’s leaning back again, pressing her palms to the floor as she smirks at Courtney. “How was that?”

Courtney doesn’t know how to speak, her heart in her throat as she replays the kiss over and over again in her mind. “Good,” she manages, voice quiet, hardly able to meet Willam’s eyes. She feels like she might be dreaming.

“You suck, Willam,” Bianca laughs, snapping Courtney back to reality. “She’s not impressed at all!”

Willam scowls. “She said it was good, you bitch!”

“Yeah, ’cause she’s too nice to tell you otherwise!”

The rest of the circle erupts into shrieks of laughter, and Courtney feels her cheeks burn. She feels sorry for Willam, but she doesn’t have the words to tell her that it was probably one of the best things to ever happen to her.

So she says nothing at all, slinking wordlessly back to her side of the circle instead.

Courtney drives Willam home that night. Willam is uncharacteristically quiet, sitting with her arms folded as she stares out the window.

“Willam,” Courtney finally says, eyes still on the road. “Are you okay?”

She catches Willam’s shrug in her peripheral vision. A moment’s silence passes between them, Willam shifting quietly in her seat.

“Yeah,” she finally says. “I was just… thinking.”

“About what?” Courtney prompts her, pulling the car into a right-hand turn.

“The kiss. I… was it really that bad?”

Courtney is so startled she nearly swerves into the gutter. Swallowing back a gasp, she pulls over to park, twisting around to give Willam her full attention.

Willam’s frowning, toying with the hem of her skirt. “Wow. Way to say yes, Courtney.”

“I – no, I – uh, that’s not what I meant,” she stammers, hating to see Willam like this. “It was… it was actually really good. Like… really good.” She falters. Her words aren’t coming to her, slipping away like sand through her fingers. The truth feels like too much, but saying anything else doesn’t feel like enough.

She’s right – Willam hardly looks convinced. “You don’t need to lie, Courtney, I can take it,” she says, voice harder now, and Courtney worries she’s offended.

“Yeah, but, that’s the thing. I’m not lying,” Courtney insists. Why does this have to be so difficult?

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she’s about to do. You can do this. You’re brave enough. She repeats the words over and over in her head, leaning across the console to take Willam’s hand. Blood is pounding in her ears as she rests her other hand against Willam’s neck, pulling her closer. Willam’s eyes flash in realisation and she leans closer without prompting, letting Courtney press their lips together again. This kiss is soft and careful, as fragile and delicate as a butterfly’s wing. Willam seems to melt into Courtney’s touch, muscles relaxing beneath warm, tanned skin.

“I love your kisses the most,” Courtney whispers against Willam’s mouth as they pull apart to breathe. She feels Willam draw back slightly, her fingers still absentmindedly tracing Courtney’s jawline.

“Then why were you so weird about it at the party?” Willam’s eyes are downcast, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

Guilt stabs at Courtney’s chest. She fumbles for her words, the silence pressing heavily in on her. “I…” She doesn’t know how to say it, but knows that she should. “I really, really like you, Willam.”

She’s settled for something simple, and it does the job. Willam rears backwards as though she’s been slapped, her eyes flaring wide open in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, really really really,” Courtney manages to giggle despite her thundering heart.

“No, I mean, I – are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious, you idiot.” Courtney’s gaze is locked on Willam’s, her fingers tangling gently in Willam’s cascading curls. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Willam just shakes her head, and Courtney doesn’t miss the wonder in her eyes. “Can… can I kiss you again?” she whispers, pulling Courtney closer before she even gets the chance to nod. Their lips collide roughly, teeth clicking together, but Courtney thinks it’s perfect.

“I really like you, too,” Willam gasps between kisses. “Really, really, really.”

Courtney’s silent, too caught up in Willam’s lips to respond. She lets months of desperate, bottled-up feeling release themselves against Willam’s touch, wordlessly showing Willam how her confession made her heart skip faster, heat spreading through her skin like honey.

She doesn’t know how long they sit there for, tangled up in each other. Courtney feels warm and soft, like kissing Willam has washed her clean, made her new.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Willam asks softly against her cheek, and Courtney wonders how she ever got to be so lucky.

Remember the road trip we went on, when I asked if we might be forever? I’m no poet, but I remember how the setting sun turned your hair to fire and I wondered how someone could look so beautiful.

They’re sitting on the roof of the car, fingers interlocked as they stare out over the ocean. The trees whisper in the twilight breeze, cicadas chirping from their branches, but Courtney hardly notices. She only wants to think about Willam, sitting comfortably beside her, her head resting on Courtney’s shoulder.

The sun is casting orange streaks across the water and turning the clouds to wisps of flame. This sunset feels different somehow; more special. Maybe it’s the endless tangerine sky. Maybe it’s Willam.

“Courtney,” Willam murmurs suddenly, “do you think we could last forever?”

Courtney, taken aback by her unusual softness, twists around to face her. Willam pulls herself upright, eyes on Courtney’s face.

“I…” Courtney takes a moment, sifting carefully through her words. “I’d like us to.”

“So would I,” Willam agrees quietly.

A beat of silence hovers between them. Courtney traces her thumb over Willam’s knuckles.

“I love you, Willam,” she says finally.

It’s a gentle confession, as light as a butterfly landing on Willam’s nose. She smiles like Courtney’s just kissed her, eyes lighting up like a torch in the dark.

“I love you too, Courtney.”

Remember when we first moved in and you made me breakfast? It was perfect, and that Monday felt a little less awful.

Courtney’s awake with the sunrise, standing in the dove-grey light of the kitchen as breakfast fizzles on the stove. The morning is dreamy and soft, and the house is warm despite the frost bordering the windowpanes. The kitchen still feels homely, and the silence is heavy and comfortable despite her lack of company. She knows Willam is just down the hall, rolled up in a nest of blankets with her hair spilling out in golden waves onto her pillow.

The image makes Courtney smile as she cooks the bacon. She’s not used to preparing meat, as she never eats it, but Willam makes strange things worth it.

The calm that surrounds her is immediately shattered by a series of crashing sounds followed by a chain of expletives. Courtney whirls around in time to see Willam staggering down the hallway, her pajama shirt sliding down one shoulder.

“Fucking hell. Courtney? …Oh, there you are.” Wandering closer, Willam wraps her arms around Courtney’s waist, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck.

“What just happened?” Courtney asks, running delicate fingers through Willam’s messy curls.

“I fell off the fucking bed.” Willam’s voice is still thick and raspy with sleep. “Right before my alarm was gonna go off.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” Willam retorts affectionately, pulling herself back upright. “What were you doing, anyways?”

“Making breakfast.” The bacon’s done now; Courtney shuts the flame off, piling the strips of meat onto a plate. “There. For you.”

The smile that lights up Willam’s eyes sends warm honey flowing through Courtney’s veins. She presses a kiss to Willam’s cheek before handing her a set of cutlery. “Enjoy. Coffee’ll be ready in a tick.”

Willam doesn’t move for several moments, standing in the kitchen watching Courtney work. “You’re amazing,” she finally says, sounding awestruck. “So fucking amazing.”

Courtney giggles as a rosy blush tints her cheeks. “Just go eat,” she says, pouring the coffee. She adds the milk carefully, determined to make this exactly the way Willam likes it.

“Is it okay?” she asks tentatively as she sets the coffee down. The bacon isn’t perfect, and she knows it – it’s a little crisp and burnt around the edges. She just needs to know if it’s edible.

“I love it,” Willam replies, her tired eyes bright, and Courtney’s face relaxes into a smile.

The next ring is a command.

There aren’t any more memories of their early days together. Instead, there are six short words.

Go back to where we confessed.

Courtney steps outside and the light flickers on, casting the shadows of distracted moths across the stone. The car is hardly more than a silhouette in the driveway, lumpy and distorted and strange. Upbeat music starts playing as she waits, briefly, for her eyes to adjust.

“The moon is high

Like your friends were the night that we first met

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed…”

The song is familiar, the ride home from work echoing back in Courtney’s mind as she approaches the car.

And there’s Willam, sitting cross-legged on the roof. She looks gorgeous in the moonlight, her skin lit up with silver, and Courtney’s breath hitches in her throat. She’s stunning, and Courtney’s overjoyed to see her. Willam fiddles with her hands in her lap, reaching up to gingerly tuck a strand of starlit hair behind her ear.

“Hey, Courtney.” She slides off the car, heels clicking gently on the stone as she stands and presses a gentle kiss to Courtney’s cheek. “Did you like the rings?” Her grin is playful, but Courtney doesn’t miss the nervousness in her eyes.

“Loved them,” Courtney replies, sliding her arms around Willam’s waist and pulling her close. “But I still love you more.” Her lips graze the edge of Willam’s mouth, and she feels Willam’s breathy sigh on her skin, her back stiffening beneath Courtney’s touch. Standing straight again, Courtney meets Willam’s eyes, holding her gaze for a moment. “What are we doing out here, anyways?” she asks, poking Willam’s cheek. “I know you’re planning something.”

“You’re so daft,” Willam tells her, arms around her shoulders. “I thought it would be obvious.”

“You brought me back through memories that defined our relationship,” Courtney murmurs wistfully, eyes darting towards the car. “Are you going to take me back to all the special places too?”

“I mean, that’s a good idea, but – Courtney, did you even listen to the song?”

Courtney pouts. “You know I suck at remembering lyrics.”

“Okay, yeah, not gonna lie – you really do.” Willam lets out a fraught giggle, and Courtney wonders why she’s acting so strange. She seems stiff, worried – not quite the easygoing person Courtney’s come to love. They stand quietly for a moment, and Courtney hunts for clues in Willam’s features, surrounded only by Taylor Swift’s light, cheerful voice reaching the song’s chorus.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that’s right

Darling, you’re the one I want…”

It hits her just as Willam steps back and drops to one knee. There’s a small, black box in her palm, and she opens it as she raises it towards Courtney.

“Let me make tonight the next step for us,” she begins, and Courtney can only stand and stare at her through blurring eyes, her mind struggling to process what’s happening.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Willam continues, her voice choking up with emotion, and Courtney can see the tears glistening silver at the corners of her eyes. “I want to go through the rest of my life with you beside me. I want this to be our symbol of forever. Will you marry me, Courtney?”

Courtney’s voice is shaky, throat rasping with emotion as she responds. “Yes,” she gasps, smiling so wide her cheeks start to ache. Cool silver brushes her skin as Willam slides the ring onto her finger, and then she’s squealing in delight as Willam tackles her, picking her up and spinning her around.

“I love you, Willam,” Courtney whispers as Willam puts her down again, their bodies close as they stand, entangled in the moonlight. “I love you so, so much.”

Willam doesn’t respond, instead pressing her lips to Courtney’s. The kiss is salty with joyous tears, and Courtney feels electric, her body warm despite the cool breeze. The music is still playing in the background, steady rhythms humming through the perfect night.

“Kiss me once ’cause I know you had a long night

Kiss me twice ’cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ’cause you waited your whole life…”

#rpdr fanfiction #courtney act #willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #bianca del rio #witney #fluff #lesbian au #tw minor drug use #concrit welcome #submission #cheetah

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