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1kook · 4 years

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viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?

You’re not so sure.

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.

Oh, you loved this man.

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.

“I thought he was cool before.”

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.

You whimper. “That hurt.”

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.

Of course.

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.

And you’re all too ready to act on it.

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true.

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

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forcebewitht · 3 years

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Force's Disney Geek Master Theory: Why Twisted Wonderland Is Called Twisted Wonderland

We have all grown to know and love various Disney characters over the years, correct? Yet, I believe a lot of us can argue that not many characters have the same effect on us even as adults today as the Villains do within their respective movies. In the game Disney: Twisted Wonderland as we all know and love, the select boys to Overblot are supposed to have the "souls" of their Villain counterparts, right? But...why is it called "Twisted" Wonderland, then? The truth may lie within something that has been right in front of us all along, my friends: the meaning of a mirror. Ready to buckle in for this one? If so, then here we go!

We have seen all of these guys share character traits, looks, etc with their Disney counterparts, correct? Well, what if I were to tell you that things in terms of the "main" guys that we are supposed to pay attention to aren't exactly what they seem? This could be analyzed in a few different ways, honestly, yet the most prominent way is this: the differences in their personalities- they are reversed. Let us take this bit by bit, shall we?

Ah, yes. The Queen Of Hearts. The ranting, raging, bundle of red, black, and gold we all know and love. (or else heads would roll, I'm sure) One of the things that everybody knows about her is that she's extremely hellbent on the crazy rules that she makes up and is prone to anger honestly very easily. Yeah, you can connect that to Riddle- but think about it for a second. While that rage and the rule thing is still there, it isn't as prominent with him as it was with her, is it? With the Queen of Hearts, her whole "issue" was that she wished to make everybody listen to her and follow her every command- but Riddle was essentially always following the rules of another- not his own. This seemed to make Riddle a little more calm most of the time in terms of how he handled and oversaw things. It wasn't until he actually Overblotted that the "listen to me and only me" thing came out- buuuuuuttttttt I'll get to that part in a bit.

Next: Leona and Scar. While we honestly didn't get to see a lot of what went on behind the scenes in the Outlands in terms of how Scar even met the hyenas to begin with at all, one thing can honestly be said- Scar worked very hard to get where he was. I mean, it's not like you can get an entire pack of rabid, hungry hyenas onto your side in the course of a single day, or maybe even a week (especially as a lion, no less). No, something to that extreme takes careful planning, wording, and stringing along to ensure that nothing goes wrong along the way. The way Scar spoke to Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed made it seem as though he had known them for a looooonngggg time before this- that's where that behind the scenes planning comes in. And then...you have Leona. Leona, from what we can tell in Chapter 2, planned the idea for the "endgame" alright- but he didn't actually act upon any of the plan for himself. Ruggie did. Even in the Lion King, we see that Scar had no problems whatsoever getting his paws dirty a little within his own scheme to take his "rightful place" at the head of Pride Rock- but Leona quite honestly did not a thing once Ruggie was in motion. See where this is starting to head?

Azul and Ursula. Ursula, the Disney baddie queen of my heart Ursula, the Sea Witch. She was known all around the ocean floor for helping out poor little merfolk in secret, wasn't she? Yet, nobody ever really seemed to catch wind of the whole "her turning those who didn't quite fit the bill into polyps" thing, did they? That was one of the things that made her such a honest threat to Ariel herself- because Ursula was cunning. She did things behind the scenes, and sure- we could catch onto it out in the audience (annnddd maybe Sebastian and Flounder as well), but nobody else really seemed to, right? Azul is the complete opposite in this standpoint. He instills direct fear into his "workers" and those even beyond and within his dorm. Like- basically most knew that this dude was bad news to begin with. Azul, mostly, seemed to hide his cunning facade behind a fake yet still seemingly "soft and genuine" smile and act. But all in all, he didn't really attempt to "hide" anything- hell, he even proclaimed his entire plan of what everyone with those things on their heads were gonna do for him in the open! At least when Ursula sang as Vanessa, she was in an almost perfectly enclosed room with nobody else around.

Jamil and Jafar. This comparison here, given what occurs in the movie Aladdin, is honestly one of the biggest possible indicators of this reoccuring theme I shall clarify in a bit. Jafar, while being sneaky, was known for being a more "out there" Disney Villain in terms of his personality alongside that of his partner Iago in the film. He would smile in a sinister way, he would crack jokes out in the open, and let us not forget his crazed yet oddly interesting laughter. Jamil? He's the exact opposite. Given his past and what he has had to dealt with growing up with Kalim, he is much more reserved and barely releases a chuckle or cracks a smile at all. His personality is a lot more repressed than that of Jafar himself throughout the film. Jamil has been so used to having to hold himself back thanks to his parents in favor of Kalim's family, he doesn't seem to know how to "let go" whatsoever. Yet Jafar, while still maintaining that sneaky side of him as well, has no problems whatsoever letting a little hang loose whenever he so chooses to.

Vil and the Evil Queen. This one honestly may be a bit more self explanatory than the others- but the difference between these two is their expressions of themselves. The Evil Queen was the very first animated counted Disney Villain within Disney's history- yet, she barely had any lines throughout the film at all. Her ranges of expression were almost little to none thanks to the era in which the movie was released in- but she always looked like she was pissed, huh? Vil is the exact opposite of her in this sense. He is able to fully express himself through his various facial expressions, theatrical abilities, musical experiences, fashion style, and even how he behaves. Vil is able to do so much more than the Evil Queen did or could do within that time period, that it's almost a little staggering if you fully picture it.

Idia and Hades. Now, now. We haven't honestly seen too much of the flaming blue boy yet in TWST, but one thing is apparent here right off the bat- in terms of his personality? He is the exact opposite of Hades. Idia is much like Jamil but to a more "geek" degree- he's extremely introverted, shy, a bit snippy, yet mainly keeps to himself and his gaming tech. Hades is most often renowned as the Disney Villain with the most personality- and the best humor. Hades has no problem whatsoever being "out there" with his crazy puns, sassy remarks, anger, and even mocking behavior. I mean, please, guys- I haven't been this choked up since I got a hunk of moussaka caught in my throat!

Finally, Malleus and Maleficent. Ooooohoooooooo boy. We have to count out the live action movie Maleficent for this one (sorry horned queen fans). One thing that basically everybody even with their toe in the water in that of Disney movies kind of knows this fact- Maleficent is c r u el. She's got a bizarre set of dark powers and an even blacker heart than that. Hell, we basically had to "soften her up" a little bit in Maleficent thanks to just how seemingly irredeemable her character is in that of Sleeping Beauty. I mean, c'mon now- cursing an infant? And we get no explanation for that in the original? C'mon, now. Anyways, Malleus? As we all can tell by now, this dude is the compleeettteeeeeee opposite. Sure, he has those repressed bits here and there too, but it is evident that this dude has a heart crying out for the MC and it is big, bold, and golden to the core once you look past how he looks. He sent the MC a card for winter break, for crying out loud. Yeah, let me know the next time you see Maleficent do that smh.

Now, I have avoided using a certain word up until this point to see if anybody could catch on to what exactly is happening here. Did you figure it out? Reverse. The boys that either have Overblotted already or intend to Overblot soon stop holding out on us, Chapter 6 have had the exact opposite personalities compared to that of their Villain counterpart- until one prime point in their "character arcs". Their Overblot.

Riddle wished to have all bow before him and obey his rules.

Leona led his entire dorm into ruin and nearly sanded away the entire school in the process.

Azul let himself finally free of his personal shackles entirely and "took what was his".

Jamil finally let himself go and opened up more in his personality, almost seeming to be driven insane in the process.

Vil wanted to become the most beautiful one of all and would kill anyone within the way of that goal without any hesitation whatsoever.

The moment that the boys' Overblotted, that was the exact moment when the "soul" of their Disney Villain counterpart took control. Keeping that idea in mind, that should mean that this will happen in the upcoming chapters and their Overblots:

Idia will show off all of the personality, powers, and intelligence that he has been keeping down within this introverted self of his.

Malleus will become so broken by being left out and alone in the cold for the final time that he will turn into a completely cruel Fae and possibly nearly kill either the MC or the representation of Prince Philip within that Chapter in the process.

(Hello, my dear Readers! Guess who is trying to get back into her bigger pieces of writing? This gal right here~ feel free to drop a comment and tell me what you think of this theory- I'd love to hear your thoughts! 💕)

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champion-leon-imagines · 3 years

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Chronicles of Galar - Chapter 2 Part 1: Your Past & a “kidnapping” case

I’ll split this chapter into two parts, because this chapter is kinda longish. I apologize for any dumb grammar mistakes, because this was especially hard to translate from my first language. Well, to make a short summary, this is a full-Leon featured chapter and a little fluff :3 Also a little insight about your past in Amila.

You kinda felt bad about lying to your new friends. But after Taiko had speculated almost too much about your feelings for the Galarian champion, you had to make sure that it didn't spark any more rumors.

Because you actually had something else in mind than going back to the hotel. Your brother was actually in Amila, along with President Rose, his assistant, and your father, the retired Professor of the Region of Amila. The reason you'd left the cafe so quickly was because of Leon. He really didn't looked very healthy and even if Raihan tried to talk it down, you were convinced that Leon was overwhelmed by being in the spotlight everywhere and being so in demand.

You ran around the corner of the cafe, where all the reporters had gathered around Leon and showered him with questions. You were close enough to overhear a little. “Unbeatable champion Leon, that was a masterpiece of a battle! Defeating a Gigantamax Toxtricity while Charizard was completely at a disadvantage! How did you manage that? "

"Ahahahaha ... ha .. As I already explained to your predecessor .. and those before that, Pokemon types are no guarantee for a win! Charizard and I knew we were at a disadvantage and we only eradicated this disadvantage with tactics! Nothing else. Toxtricity was very strong! ”Leon laughed and scratched the back of his head in disgrace. Who knows how often he was allowed to answer these and similar questions today ... "Champion Leon! Allow us to take a few more snapshots at the scene! Please lead us to the place where you defeated Toxtricity! ” one of the journalists demanded. You only shook your head slightly at the insolence and intrusiveness of these people. Leon also seemed to be in need of explanation. You could tell that this interview was becoming increasingly uncomfortable for him.

"So .. uhm .."

You had to step in. "Unfortunately that is impossible.", you began and stepped out of the alley. The reporters turned to you, puzzled. Leon recognized you and blinked slightly perplexed. "And why is it impossible?" One of the reporters wanted to know and eyed you suspiciously. “Because the Toxtricity are currently breeding and mating. That is exactly why the accident with the Gigantamax happened. The Toxtricity only protected its babies. Right, Champion Leon? ” You asked, winking at him. Leon looked at you completely taken aback before he cleared his throat. “U-Uhm yes, I accidentally fell into a Toxtricity nest and the mother must have thought I was an enemy! We- We should leave them alone! ”He nodded. Now that Leon confirmed it, the journalists believed you.

“Well, then of course that won't work. But we still have some questions for- "

"I have to disappoint you there too, gentlemen.", You quickly intervened directly and fought your way through the crowd until you reached Leon and grabbed his arm. "But our champion has a very important appointment that he is way too late because of you." “Who are you anyway?” One of the men finally wanted to know.

“I am the daughter of the CEO of Aerial Industries, Amila's largest commercial company. And the manager wants to speak to Leon immediately. And your uncooperative behavior will only get him into trouble. So please excuse us now. “, You spoke then and simply dragged Leon past the reporters and onlookers. "Hold on, wait. Aerial Industries is interested in Champion Leon? We'd like to know more about that! ”One of them shouted, but you were already starting to run with Leon. “I'm really sorry, gentlemen. But it's still confidential between Leon and Aerial! We are not authorized to give further information! ”You shouted before you let go of Leon at some point after you were sure that the men weren't following you.

"I thought your father was Amila's professor? You didn't say he's also the CEO of Aerial Industries? ”Leon mumbled, perplexed.

"He isn't." You smirked, which made Leon even more confused. "But I couldn't get you out of there any other way." "You have ..", Leon started in shock, pointing at you with his gloved hand. “I took you out of this interview on purpose, yes. Because they pushed you pretty hard. You've already explained everything and they just haven't left you alone. And you looked so burned out I just had to act. Sorry. ", You said and clasped your hands apologetically. Leon just stood there, speechless, blinking. Then he started to laugh sincerely and put his hands on his hips. "I see. So that's how it was. Well, thank you very much for saving me. ", He smiled and when you looked into his face, you only noticed happiness and serenity. "Then you are not mad that I interfered?", You asked. Only now did you realized that you had acted on an impulse and that you had already intervened before your thought process was over. "Of course not.", The purple-haired smirked and put his hand on your head. “To be honest, that really came in handy for me. Who knows how long that interview went without you .. ", he sighed exhausted and took off his cap to fan himself with it. "Mmm, it must be exhausting to have so much hustle and bustle around you all the time.", You lamented. Leon laughed lightly and nodded. "That's it. Sometimes ... I don't want to be a champion anymore. I would just like to have some time for myself again .. A .. Mhm yes a short break .. and if it's only one day .. Does that sound selfish of me? ", He asked you. “No, why should it be selfish? You work almost non-stop, you go all over Galar for press conferences, photo shoots, while you make sure that Galar stays in balance and protect people and Pokemon. You really deserve a day off. ",You nodded. Leon then smiled in relief. “Thank you for seeing it that way too. Unfortunately, I can't allow myself to do that. ", He sighed. "Why not?"

"Well, I don't know where to go .. Everyone in Galar knows me .. and .. I wouldn't have a quiet minute," Leon mumbled. "What if you just spend the day off somewhere else?" You suggested. "Somewhere else..?"

You didn't answered him at all and just grinned when you grabbed his hand again and ran to the nearest Corviknight taxi. "Ah, hello there, where do you want to go?"the taxi driver asked and fed two Corviknight some berries. "Do you fly overseas?", You wanted to know and Leon looked at you questioningly. “You mean in other regions? Well, we have special taxi couriers for that. Which region do you want to go to? ”He asked. "Alola."

"Heh? Alola? ”Leon asked surprised. You smiled and paid the taxi driver. "Yep. A short trip to a vacation paradise. Perfect for our little break. ", You giggled. "Break? So it's not your honeymoon, sweeties? ", The taxi driver smiled and saw the young couple blush and gesticulate with their hands in panic. "No, no, no .. We are not .. So .. Haha .. Come on, let's just get in.", You laughed embarrassed and dragged a blushing Leon behind you.

You took a seat in the large gondola that was carried by the birds and tried to forget the embarrassing situation as quickly as possible. As a result, there was initially a rather uncomfortable silence while the gondola with the Corviknights started moving and the approximately four-hour flight to Alola began. You thought about how you had spontaneously persuaded Leon to run away with you, even though you didn't know each other very well. At this realization you gripped your head with a sigh. This action caught the champion's attention, and he looked at you when he became slightly concerned about your strange behavior. "Are you okay ..?" He asked. TYou blinked before you realized that you had sighed audibly and waved embarrassedly. "Yes everything is fine. I ... just feel a little bold. After all, I almost kidnapped you, didn't I? ”You asked with a slight laugh. Leon smiled and crossed his arms. “You could almost call it that. But .. As I said, this little break is very convenient for me, that's why .. you will be forgiven that you 'kidnapped' me. ", He said and winked slightly. You smiled at his answer and relaxed again. Even if you didn't know each other as well as you thought, the mood between you had been quite exuberant and relaxed since you had met in the Slumbering Weald. It was a sympathy that was hard to explain. "I am happy about that. Now it's time to go to Alola. How long did the taxi driver think the flight would take? ”You asked. “About 4 hours. Maybe half an hour more, in case the Corviknight need a break and have to rest. ", The purple-haired man thought and crossed his arms. “It's still a long time. Now that we have to sit around here anyway .. how about if we use the time wisely? ”He asked. "With pleasure. What do you mean with 'use our time wisely'? A fight is hardly an option. “, You thought and looked around. There was really not much space in the gondola ..

"That's probably true .."Leon answered with a slight grin. “I was also more likely to think that it would be a good opportunity for us to find out more about each other. We already know a few things from the phone calls and other meetings, but .. there is still a lot that concerns me, ”he then admitted. "What are you concerned about? About me? “, You asked perplexed and pointed to yourself. Leon nodded. "Yes. For example, you said you were born in Amila. But you grew up in Sinnoh for several years of your life. You even started your journey as a trainer in Sinnoh. Why? Why not in Amila and why did you live in Sinnoh? Please forgive me if these questions are too private. Basically we're just acquaintances, ”he added quietly and scratched his bearded jaw. “Don't be silly, Leon. We are no longer acquaintances. We are friends. Well .. at least that's how I see it. ", You then spoke lightly. Leon then gave you an illegible look before smiling and showing you his signature grin. "Yes. I see it that way too. I was just a little worried about whether it was still too early to tell me something like that, "he added. You shook your head slightly at him. “But I want to tell you. I know that you can be trusted, champion. ", You started with a smile and then leaned back on your seat. "Well .. In our family, we were a bit short on domestic bliss for a very long time. But .. that is a bit longer story .. ", You sighed. “But we have time. You know, in Amila there was a trainer school academy in Sonnfelden. And every child had to go to this school when they turned 5. There you were trained and prepared to be a trainer for 5 years. That's where I met Cynthia too, you know. "

“Ah, the champion from Sinnoh? She was in the semifinals of last year's Champion Cup. That was a close match between Steven Stone and her. ", Leon remembered. You nodded. “She is not only the champion of Sinnoh, but also something like my big sister. But I'll get to that in a moment. In any case, she also attended the academy when she was younger, since her family was also from Amila, you know. And when I came to the academy, of course, she had been outside for a few years. But she stayed as a visiting professor and taught us a lot. For example, she helped me back when we got a loaned Pokemon in our second year. You get a Pokemon egg that you have to take care of and so that you get a feel for the Pokemon. During this time, Cynthia and I became very good friends, although of course she was much older than me. I just saw her as a big sister. Unfortunately, she had to go back to Sinnoh a year before I graduated, but she assured me that I could always go to her if I had worries .. And I made use of that faster than we both would have liked .. ”, you began and looked at your hands. Leon noticed the slight change in your mood. "What happened?" He asked, taking off his cap to place it on yours in a comforting gesture. You smiled and adjusted the cap before sighing deeply. "My parents were about to get divorced," you explained. “Although they could probably pull themselves together again to some extent. But suddenly they started arguing again and .. the evening before my final exam .. I found out the real reason I as born. ", You said and bit your lip lightly. Although the events were in the past, it still seemed to be a burden somewhere. And now that you thought about it, Leon was the first person to tell all this to. “Our parents' marriage was about to end before I was born. The harmony had long been gone and my father took refuge every now and then in the arms of other women because my mother just didn't gve him what he needed anymore. Anyway, my mom decided to just stop taking the pill and get my dad to ... sleep with her one night when she was particularly fertile. The result came quickly and ... yes. And believe me, it's not a nice feeling to hear that your parents only got you to save their marriage. ", You sighed. "I understand that .. Above all, you were very young. That must have been a shock .. ", Leon said quietly and put his hand on your shoulder. You just nodded slightly. "That was. I just felt so misunderstood and of course confronted both of them with what they meant by that. And then ... I found out the true circumstances of their marriage and ... that I have an older brother in addition to Kaito. "

"Wait ... you didn't even know before that Mamoru was your brother? Did he grew up somewhere else too? ”Leon sounded confused, but at least one could understand that. You smiled sadly. “Well, Mamoru had drawn an even worse fate with these people than I did. Or it was more of a benefit to him who knows. Anyway .. after my brother was born, there was an attack from a wild Gengar in Sonnfelden. There was an university too, where father studied archeology and mother studied medicine. They tried to stop the Gengar, but it got out of hand and used.. Dream Eater on my hypnotized mother. She lost her memories ... of her entire life because of this. Her husband and son. Then father decided to get my brother to his brother, our uncle Brian, in Bad Lavastadt, Hoenn. They wanted to get him back when the therapies made Mother able to remember and feel better. But .. after seeing how happy my brother was with Uncle Brian and his wife, they no longer had the heart to do it. Since then, the harmony between our parents had diverged. They barely had anything to say to each other, they also no longer exchanged loving gestures and gradually the marriage of the two broke up more and more, until my father finally thought of a divorce .. ", You mumbled. "... and to avoid the divorce, your mother thought, a child would somehow save the marriage or keep them together?" Leon asked and squeezed your shoulder slightly affectionate in an attempt to give you further comfort. "Yes. That was the ulterior motive of my conception. And somehow they made me feel that quite often, but I never thought anything about it .. Until I found out why I was born .. "

"What happened after that?"

“The relationship with my parents was down. And I hadn't passed the final exam either, precisely because my nerves were so shaky and the whole situation at home just finished me off. I just had to get out of there. That was the only thing I could think of. Then I remembered what Cynthia had said to me before she left .. That she would always have her arms open for me and that I could always come to her .. Just .. how should I travel to Sinnoh as a 9 year old child? … Father's Alakazam .. “, you then began. “Father's Alakazam can read the minds of us humans. And if you imagine a place very strongly and your wish is big enough ... then the powerful teleport from Alakazam will manage to transport you there. And you can surely guess who I was thinking of, right? ", "Cynthia?"

You nodded. “You should have seen her puzzled face when I suddenly appeared in front of her. I told her everything and afterwards she took me to her grandmother in Celestic Town. So that's how it started, that's why I went to Sinnoh. That's why I started my career as a trainer there, and that's why Cynthia and Professor Carolina are like a family to me. " "And your brother? I mean .. You are in good contact with your parents again, don't you? Did Mamoru know about it too? I mean that the people who raised him weren't his real parents? ”Leon wanted to know. “I think Uncle Brian couldn't take it anymore and told him. At the time, however, I had been in Sinnoh for a long time. Mamoru and I didn't even knew each other until then. We met after I got home because Mother got sick. Very sick. But don't worry, she's fine. But he should tell you himself how it is with Mamoru and our parents. If I do that, he'll surely get angry. ", You laughed a little. Leon nodded and smiled. “Thank you for this private glimpse into your life and your family. I want to return this favor and ... that's why I'll tell you something about myself that nobody else knows. Not even my best friend, Raihan. ”Leon began. "Wait .. If even your best friend doesn't know about it, then you shouldn't tell anyone else ..", You mumbled, embarrassed. Leon laughed softly and waved. "But I want to show you that I trust you as much as you trust me."

“That's nice of you, but you don't need that. If I didn't knew that you trust me, I wouldn't have told you the story in the first place. ", You smiled. "Fine. But at some point I'll tell you whether you want to or not. ", Leon laughed and winked at you charmingly. "Thanks for the warning."

#leon #pokemon leon #pkmn leon #champion leon #leon pokemon #leon x reader #champion leon x reader #pokemon leon x reader #Chronicles of Galar #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon shsw

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gay-otlc · 3 years

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Keepers of the Chaos (Chapter 2)

Summary: Tam, Linh, Keefe, Biana, and Fitz are part of the tiny fandom for Keeper of the Chaos, and Tam and Linh's podcast convinces some of their other friends to watch it as well. The group finds themselves strangely invested in this show, where students at Tumblr High School who work together to write about an elf named Sophia, cause incomprehensible chaos, and fight their rival Pinterest High School.

Content warnings: Cursing, food, L*ura

Word count: 2005

Notes: Check out the beautiful theme song here!

(Read on AO3)

Sophie rolls her eyes as she opens the link her girlfriend sent her and puts in her earbuds. Biana has been incessantly pestering her to watch Keepers of the Chaos for so long that Sophie half wants to watch it just to shut her up, but she's always tired, or busy, and she doesn't really like watching new things. Still, Biana asked her very nicely to listen to this one podcast, and she looked very pretty when she asked, so Sophie's dumb omni ass couldn't refuse.

"Welcome to the Twins of the Chaos podcast," it begins after loading for an obnoxiously long time. The girl speaking has a pretty voice, Sophie has to admit- sweet and melodic and vaguely amused.

Maybe listening to this podcast won't be so bad if she can listen to that girl's voice the whole time.

But another person speaks, adding "Where some chaotic twins discuss our favorite show, Keepers of the Chaos," and his voice is not as pretty. She continues listening anyway, since Biana may or may not murder her if she stops.

The two voices- whose names are Linh and Tam, apparently- start talking about Keepers of the Chaos some more, giving Sophie a summary she's heard tons of times from Biana and Fitz- though the twins explain it slightly more coherently and with less... whatever the verbal equivalent of keyboard smashing is. Biana usually starts rambling about her favorite characters, like Lynn- not "Lynn the fandom mom," but the other Lynn- and Avery, or sometimes Nora and Darwin. Sophie doesn't understand any of those names and loses track of the conversation as soon as it involves too many unfamiliar names.

But Tam and Linh are making more sense, at least for the most part, until they start mentioning specific couples. The conversation gets again comprehensive soon enough, though, and Sophie does smile at the name "The Dark Duck."

By the end, when Tam says "half of them wearing sleeping masks with teal eyes painted on and the other half watching the chaos with mild amusement," Sophie is curious enough to be mildly intrigued. She listens to their outro music, and before she can regret it, types out a text message to Biana.

Sophie: fine

Sophie: ill watch it

Biana responds instantly with an array of heart emojis. Sophie blushes.

Biana: can i come over and watch with u?

Sophie: ok!

Sophie: moms making mallowmelt

Sophie: but u cant have any

Biana: >:(

Biana: hope u like being single then

Sophie: fine u can have some mallowmelt

Biana: yayyyy!

Biana: ily

Sophie: ilyt

Sophie: now lets watch ur stupid show

Biana: on my way!!!

Sophie smiles, shaking her head. She's a little annoyed, but fine, it sounds interesting enough from the podcast. And what else would she be doing? Studying? Having US history as an alternative would make even the most horrible of shows seem good. She stuffs her textbooks into her backpack and shoves some things out of the way so her room looks a bit neater before rushing downstairs. The mallowmelt smells good enough to make her mouth water.

"Mmm..." she sighs, barely taking time to let it cool off before taking a large bite. "That's so good. Thanks, Mom."

Edaline smiles. "You're welcome. Just save some for your father and I."

"Fine, fine. I have to share with Biana, anyway." Sophie huffs and takes another bite. "She's coming over, is that alright? We're going to watch a show together."

"Sure, just make sure to get your homework done."

Sophie rolls her eyes. "Fine."

"And keep the door open!" Grady calls. Edaline laughs as Sophie's face flames.

"I'm going back to my room," she grumbles, taking a plate of mallowmelt with her and walking up the stairs. She manages not to trip over her own feet and drop the mallowmelt, thankfully, as she grabs her laptop and opens Netflix. Sighing, she searches for Keepers of the Chaos and clicks on the show that comes up before waiting for Biana to arrive.

The doorbell rings soon, and Sophie carefully sets down her laptop and her plate on her bed before rushing down the stairs. Panting slightly, she opens the door for her girlfriend. Biana's wearing a t-shirt with the Amsterdam flag on it. Sophie has no idea why. Maybe Biana likes the country? Her girlfriend is pretty weird. "Come on in," she says, realizing she's been staring. In her defense, Biana is pretty and Sophie is very omni.

"Ready to go watch Keepers of the Chaos?" Biana asks. She bounces on her toes slightly.

"Alright," says Sophie. "I set it up on my laptop in my room."

"Awesome! You'll love it."

Sophie follows Biana up the stairs and into her room. They sit on the bed together, Sophie leaning against the wall and Biana leaning against Sophie, and Biana presses play. Somber kazoos begin playing in the background as the theme song starts.

We're on the edge of chaos

No one is straight

We're making fanart

Because L*ura we hate

And we're gonna have teal eyes in the end!

We must be weird, and we must be gay

(We must be gay!)

We will find every bit of sanity that we have

And give it all to Lynn

Ohhhh

We must be gay!

Biana dances a little along with the song, and Sophie can't help but smile. A curvy, round-faced person with short dark hair and colorful earrings plays a few notes on the piano, and then a KEEPERS OF THE CHAOS logo flashes across the screen. Then, a group of students sit in a classroom.

"Shai! Tater! Lynn! You three finally got together?" says the same person who just played piano, gesturing to a redhaed wearing a Sappho lesbian flag cape. She's holding the fingerless-gloved hand of a lanky person with brightly colored hair, and they're holding hands with a tall girl who has chin length brown hair. The rest of the class applauds the fiancees before returning to their own conversations.

"Yep! Thanks, Ink," says Tater.

Ink smiles at them and turns to a person with light brown skin and golden hoop earrings partially covered by long dark hair. "Hi, Kiri, how was your break?"

"Good! Here's to a good 2021?" Kiri turns to the person next to them. "How about you, Ref?"

Ref has short brown hair and red glasses. "Yeah, my break was dOPE," she says, leaving everyone to wonder how he did that with their voice. "oH, and happy belated Hanukkah to Shai!"

"Thanks, you too. And guess what! I didn't set my hair on fire this year!"

A short guy with strawberry blonde hair looks concerned. "Um. Congratulations?"

"Thanks, Sam!"

Sophie looks away from the screen and at Biana. "There are a lot of characters..." she mutters.

"Yeah, but you get to know them well enough eventually," says Biana. "Now shh, let's keep watching!"

A lot of other characters are introduced in various conversations, and Sophie's brain has a hard time keeping track of them all. She does remember Tara, a curvy, bored-looking girl with long sideswept bangs, and Blue, a bisexual who may or may not be an arsonist. She doesn't know either of their personalities very well yet, but she likes them so far. Lucat, a pale, blue haired asexual, who later joins the Hanukkah conversation, also seems cool.

Once quite a bit of introductions are done- Sophie lost count at around twenty something- are over, an announcement comes over the school's loudspeakers.

"Welcome back, Tumblr High School!" announces a voice. "I hope you all had a good break. Now, the Tumblr staff have an important announcement for you all. High schools in this county, like ours, Pinterest High School, and Instagram High School, will be holding a competition. All members of the winning team will receive a scholarship to AO3 college. If you are interested, meet in room 69 after school. Now, onto other announcements..."

Somber kazoos play again as the principal's droning voice fades into the background. A montage of the previously introduced characters wishing they could go to AO3 college moves across the screen. After a few minutes of them zooming through school and talking about how fucking boring it is, all of them gather in the room (some of them with more jokes than others) to discuss the competition.

A blonde woman welcomes them into the room. They wait a while to make sure no one else will arrive, but once everyone is there, the woman clears her throat. "Hello, everyone! I'm glad you're interested in joining the competition. My name is Shannon Messenger, and I'm in charge of admissions at AO3 College. My coworker L*ura and I designed this competition."

Sophie gasps and looks at Biana. "L*ura? But isn't that the person they hate? They said that in the intro!" Biana smiles at her, and she blushes as she realizes that she's kind of... maybe... invested in the show now. She decides she'll endure the "I told you so"s later and looks back at the show, trying to telepathically tell the characters not to trust this L*ura person... and perhaps not Shannon either. It's too early to tell whether Shannon will be an antagonist or not.

"All of you will be working as a team to write a story together. The main premise is that a twelve year old girl named Sophia is a telepath, but she can't tell anyone her secret. Then, she meets a teal-eyed boy named Finn, and he tells her that she's an elf. She travels back to the elf world with him, where she struggles a bit at the elf school Firefox, makes friends with some other elves, learns that she is an illegal creation of a rebel group called the Dark Duck, and another rebel group- the Rarelynoticed- tries to kidnap and kill Sophia and her friend Deck. There are other details to be included into the story, which will be given out to the participants as a packet. The object of this competition is not to determine your ability at coming up with story ideas, but your ability to work in groups and execute well developed ideas. Does anyone have any questions?"

Someone raises their hand- a short, tanned girl. "Lynn?" prompts the principal.

"Did you say the rebel group was named the Dark Duck?"

"And the Rarelynoticed?" adds another person, with rectangular glasses and a red bracelet.

"Raise your hand before speaking, Auran," scolds the principal. "But yes, those are the names."

"Alright then," Auran mutters.

"Unless anyone else has questions, we'll be sending out sign up forms for everyone interested, and then we will distribute the information packets about your story. You can talk to each other and start planning."

No one else has questions, so once they've all filled out the sign up form, they gather in small groups and flip through the packets, making sarcastic comments or mocking names ("'Rarelynoticed' though-" a stylish hijabi named Raiin sighs as they come across a page of information about the group) as they try to form some semblance of a plan. Once they all agree that they've made a lot of progress, they make plans to meet up again soon and walk back home.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of ominous teal eyes watch from above.

Somber kazoos play once again, and the credits roll.

"So, what'd you think?" Biana asks as Sophie closes her laptop.

Rather inaudibly, Sophie mumbles "It was good."

"What was that?"

"It was good! I liked it!"

Biana grins. "I told you so." She leans over and kisses Sophie on the cheek. "Thanks for watching it. I have to go do some homework, awesome seeing you!" As she walks out, Sophie hears her singing under her breath. "We must be gay..."

#tumblr kotlc fandom fandom #keepers of the chaos #shai types things #cursing tw #we must be g a y #shai's writing

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genesisrose74 · 4 years

Text

Believe It, Baby

AHH HELLO I LIVE!! I am so sorry about my lack of publishing content besides some general community posts as of late - I’ve probably said this before but school is a buttface sometimes :// I’ve been really enjoying the new episodes of Haikyuu so I decided to finish a self indulgent fic to try getting back on track! Kinda like how it worked out so here it is!! Yes, it is Hinata again, how did you freaking know???

Pairing: Hinata Shoyo x Fem!Reader

Words: 2122

*******

“I don’t believe it for a damn second.”

The ginger under scrutiny groans for what seemed the eighth time that day, shooting his friend an exasperated look as they walk into the practice gym. “I swear, Kageyama! She’s in the college preparatory class with Yachi!”

At this, said blonde turns her attention to the entering duo with a curious tilt of her head.

“What’s this about someone in my class?” she inquires politely.

Kageyama glances at Yachi. “Hinata says that he’s dating one of your classmates, which I say is a bunch of crap.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Bakageyama? I’m her boyfriend!”

Tsukishima scoffs from across the gym.

“Sounds like someone had too vivid of a dream last night,” he jeers, Yamaguchi snickering beside him.

Even Tanaka and Noya doesn’t seem to believe the aspiring ace, the former clapping a hand on Hinata’s shoulder with a philosopher’s air about him.

“It’s alright to be single, little man. You don’t gotta go and make something up to look cool.”

Hinata huffs before shuffling to set up the court for practice, while Sugawara takes his position as mother crow by smacking the troublemaker second years upside the head.

“I for one believe you, Hinata,” the silver haired setter declares, smiling when the first year boy beams with happiness.

“Thank you, Suga-senpai! At least someone here does.”

“Mind telling us what she’s like?” Daichi chimes in.

Hinata’s grin blossoms even wider, and his gaze turns excited. “She’s amazing, and really smart, and super competitive! And she’s...also really pretty…” he trails off in embarrassment.

Suga gushes at his flustered state, ruffling his kouhai’s mop of orange hair. “Look at you, all affectionate. She must be special.”

Yachi follows up with a nod of agreement at Sugawara’s statement, joining Hinata on the court for set up.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s her name?” the manager in training questions.

When the middle blocker tells her proudly, the remaining first year boys all bust out in laughter.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Yamaguchi guffaws. “Isn’t she like one of the smartest students in our grade?”

Hinata nods affirmatively, and Tsukishima shakes his head with a dry laugh. “Try picking a more believable person next time, Hinata. There’s barely even a chance that you’ve ever crossed paths with her before, let alone dated the girl.”

Yachi, on the other hand, takes a moment to ponder on Hinata’s words, not even close to giggling like the rest of her fellow first years.

“You know,” she mumbles to herself, “that’s honestly not that far of a stretch, considering how outgoing she is.”

The orange haired boy offers her a weary half-smile for at least thinking he had a shot with who he claimed, but made no further attempt to emphasize that he was in fact dating said girl. It was clear that nearly none of the team would believe him without solid proof.

Coach Ukai grabs the team’s attention, and from then on leads a rotation of digging drills to help improve everyone’s foundational abilities. This format of training continues for most of practice, such routines making it easier for some of the boys (namely Tsukishima) to laugh about Hinata’s “attempt'' at having a girlfriend in line. Said middle blocker remains in a pouty mood due to such circumstances, but decides to keep it quiet for the time being - lest he dig a bigger hole in which his teammates could tease him.

Soon enough, practice for the day is over, and the Karasuno boys organize their things in the club room before filtering outside. As Hinata waits outside for the rest of his team to come downstairs, the whole team planning on making a stop at Ukai’s store, his phone screen lights up with a soft chime.

Hi sunshine! Did your practice just finish?

The first year smiles, knowing that you must have snuck him a text during your student council meeting, and quickly opens his phone to type something back.

Hi angel!! Yeah, we’re gonna get something at Ukai’s rn

Hinata playfully raises an eyebrow at your fast response, the chat bubble popping up right away. Usually you’re pretty invested in your club meetings, so today’s must be a pretty boring topic.

Wanna save me a meat bun pretty please 🥺

If there’s an extra I will <3

:D hehe thank u love

Tanaka’s voice breaks the ginger’s focus from his texts, the second year shouting about food as he ushers the team towards the school exit. Hinata tosses his phone into his practice bag and catches up with the walking group, his mood significantly improved from just minutes ago.

*****

The town is basked in the soft glow of street lights as the team makes their way down the hill to Ukai’s, currently unaware of a presence in a sprint to get to them.

Your fellow Student Council members had shot a bewildered look in your direction as you scrambled to pack up and hustle out the classroom door. You ushered a quick goodbye to them before stuffing your phone in your skirt pocket, determined to surprise your boyfriend after the council meeting ended early.

Maybe you were starting to regret the idea of running in the god-awful flats Karasuno High enforced in their dress code, but you pushed past the irritation in favor of keeping pace. That meat bun wouldn’t stay hot forever, you reasoned, but in reality the opportunity to see your shining boyfriend truly drove your motivation.

After finally getting a glimpse of a large group near the base of the hill, a spark of victory flames in your heaving chest at your persistence. With a heavy sigh, however, you realize that your competitive ball of energy was likely at the head of the bunch, racing that setter with whom he always argues. Your plight was not over yet.

So, attempting to reign in your eagerness to see the ginger haired boy of your affections, you continue the path down the quite steep hill, this time using the art of determined speed walking. The soles of those forsaken flats on your feet would not be forgiving if you started running again, anyways.

When you finally manage to close in on the team, Sugawara is the first to notice you, observing for a moment before nudging Daichi on his right. The Karasuno captain looks confusedly at his vice captain, the latter’s eyes holding a parent-like intuition.

“I think that’s her,” the silver haired third year murmurs, nodding his head in your direction as you make your way closer.

“Who’s her?” Daichi whispers back, and Suga looks like he’s about to karate chop him in the side.

“Hinata’s girlfriend, Dai!” he hisses. “Look at who she’s focused on.”

Daichi follows your gaze to find the little decoy first year at the end of it, causing him to raise an eyebrow in surprise. “So he really wasn’t pulling Kageyama’s leg.”

The two third years of Karasuno watch you with great interest as you inch your way to the front of their group, more of the boys taking note of your presence with the passing moments.

The only few who don’t seem to notice are the gaggle of first years in the front, many of whom are bickering with each other. Yachi is the only one in your grade to see you as she walks beside Kiyoko, and you give her a small wave before putting a finger to your lips. All she can do in response is nod, mouth slightly agape at the fact that you even acknowledged her in the midst of your pursuits.

“-If there’s an extra bun in the bag today I call dibs!”

“And since when have I ever listened to you, pipsqueak?”

“Who’re you calling pipsqueak, you giraffe!?”

You have to conceal your chuckle at the group’s antics. You’d been told a handful about the first years known as Hinata’s teammates, but had yet to formally meet them due to your consistently busy schedule. Today, you felt it was about time for that to change.

Yamaguchi picks up on you, followed quickly by Tsukkishima when his freckle-faced best friend notifies him with a tap on the shoulder. Even Kageyama, who somehow managed to get into yet another argument with Hinata, slows his banter as he gazes at you, completely bewildered.

The last person left in the dark is - of course - none other than your dumbass of a boyfriend.

“Why did you get so quiet all of a sudden?” the aspiring ace inquires. “It’s ‘cause you realized that I would win the argument anyways, huh?”

The boy jumps when he feels you sidle up next to him, brushing your arm against his own.

“Yes, sunshine, that’s surely the reason.”

The first year whips his head to face your playful smirk, before practically launching himself into you and trapping you in a bear hug.

“You surprised me!” he exclaims with a giddish grin, nuzzling into your figure.

“That was kind of my plan,” you laugh. “Student council meeting ended early, so here I am.”

Hinata didn’t seem to want to let go of you any time soon, so you resorted to taking his face in your hands and pecking his cheeks.

“You gonna introduce me or not, silly?”

The middle blocker was blushing like crazy at this point, reddening with the realization that his entire team was a current audience to the little show taking place.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend,” he gestures to you awkwardly, and you couldn’t hide the small smile that curls on your lips. “You’ve probably seen her with the Student Council before.”

You wave enthusiastically to the team, many of whom are still recovering from the newly confirmed discovery (namely, some very skeptical first years).

“So, he wasn’t joking?” Yamaguchi spoke up, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Aw yeah, Hinata!” Tanaka whistled, “Sorry that I ever underestimated you!”

“Good job, Shoyo!” Nishinoya affirms, jumping on his second year best friend in excitement. “She’s a cutie too!”

The first year squeezes your midsection tighter to your surprise, seeing as his face was practically steaming from previous team comments.

“She is cute,” he mumbles, and the unexpected statement elicits a laugh from your lips.

You tap the ginger’s nose playfully, bringing his attention to your content smile. The sight of it causes him to grin right back giddily, momentarily forgetting the larger group beside him once more. “Saved me a meat bun, Sho?”

He was like this whenever at the other’s house or on a date: mushy, cuddly, affectionate, the whole nine yards of fluffiness. Public spaces involving acquaintances, however, was a bit of a different story, as Hinata got very easily flustered in front of teasing friends. Even without meeting the other team members of Karasuno before, it was quite obvious.

“I always manage to when you ask,” he responds proudly, although a faint frown briefly appears on his features for a moment, “but Tsukishima’s being a bit of a jerk about it today.”

The blond in question sends his fellow middle blocker a look of annoyance, before his expression melts into a cheshire grin as he turns to you.

“Just didn’t want him eating too much, that’s all,” he explains. “Overindulgence isn’t a great habit for athletes, you know. But since you’re actually here and not a figment of Hinata’s imagination, that’s absolutely fine with me.”

“Hey! You saying I’m a pig or something?” the first year pipes up with a glare.

Tsukki smirks. “Or something.”

Sugawara steps in to lessen the obvious tensions between your feral ginger and the smug beanpole, giving them both a deathly glare that practically screamed, ‘don’t make me whoop your asses in front of a student council member’.

You giggled at the team’s dynamic, one that clearly resembled a rambunctious family on their nightly outing together. It really was just as you had imagined the first time your boyfriend described it to you - with maybe a bit more emphasis on the rambunctious than you had previously inferred. But it was actually quite enjoyable to be around.

As the group finally started on their way again after your surprise introduction, Hinata came up beside you once more with a curious glint in his eyes.

“What are you smiling all giddishly about?” he inquires, head tilted a fraction.

You can’t help but chuckle a bit at the question. “I just really enjoy being around your team is all.”

The aspiring ace of Karasuno interlocks his fingers with yours as you stroll along together down the street, his teammates in tow as they observe the situation before them with some remaining bewilderment.

“Good, cause I think they might like you too.”

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smileysuh · 3 years

Note

hi mum, so lately i’ve been taking time to reflect my life and I realised like, how much my life revolves around kpop. like, I just got into kpop around a year ago and it makes me so happy and so drained at the same time idk how to explain it but basically, all I’ve been thinking about these past few days is how different my life would be if I wasn’t into kpop. Tonight, out of nowhere I decided to unsub all kpop channels on yt, I deleted vlive and also set a time limit on insta since I find myself scrolling on there a lot, just looking at kpop content for hours at a time. Am I being dramatic? Idk, I just feel so tired, I’m disappointed at myself for not being able to like, hold back this obsession ya know? Cause I’m starting uni soon and every day I keep thinking why am I wasting my time watching kpop when I could be studying and preparing for uni?? What’s wrong with me lol?? Anyways, just needed to rant, feel free to not reply to this, I’m crying as I’m typing this I just feel kinda lost right now but I rlly hope ur doing good mumm💚💚

Hello baby! Ok, so first, I understand you completely

I’m also the type of have hyper fixations and then that’s my only source of serotonin

Kpop is such a pure, good, consistent source of happiness, and in the world we’re in right now, I don’t think it’s a shock at all that we’ve both glommed onto kpop- I think a lot of people might be going through exactly what you’re going through

Don’t beat yourself up about it my love, we’re allowed to have things we enjoy-

I feel like we live in a society that A; makes people feel bad for doing things for themselves cuz capitalism and the need to constantly be producing and doing things and social media and just oooof, and B: we have a society that looks down on the things “girls” do for fun- like when have our enjoyments of one direction or loki or anything been seen as a positive? Our society is SO restrictive on what women feel were allowed to enjoy-

But look, if kpop makes you happy then it makes you happy!

Limitations can be good, spending too much time on ur screen is NEVER a good thing cuz we can get so caught up in it- as people say “go outside and touch concrete” 😂😂😂😂 but don’t feel ashamed that kpop is your happy place

Maybe do it where like, at the end of ur day, u can have an hour of kpop YouTube crack, or read a fanfic, or something like that, limits are good but don’t cut off ur serotonin source completely you know?

Ur not being dramatic my love :) it’s really hard to live in the world we live in and have lots of our interests be belittled by everyone around us- like why is it SO MUCH BETTER if you spent all this time researching cars or something you know? Like why is it our likes are lesser cuz we fall in love with people and the psychology and the fun we have watching them?

To me, kpop is kind of like our version of reality tv, and u know how many people feel justified as shit knowing everything about Kylie and Kendal and what scandal Kim got into this week and who’s dating who and-

No hate to people who like the kardashians cuz Oof I went through a reality tv phase too

But I hope you get what I’m saying and I’m not being too rambly kdhejsijssb

So I don’t allow direct messages from people I don’t follow, but if you ever need anything, message me off anon, I’ll follow back immediately and then we can chat in dms :) sometimes it’s just about finding a friend to love this stuff with and that can make it feel oddly more justified?

I just- you’re not being dramatic, things are rough, thank you for reaching out honey, I’m here if you ever need it ❤️

Also if it’s any consolation, I was having these same issues last year, and I ended up making every creative writing project I had to do about a kpop boy and it helped me get through my courses cuz suddenly I wasn’t just completing an assignment about a dude in a grocery store, it was MARK TUAN or like- I straight up submitted demon San and got a 90 on it- idhejsnsjsisubss kpop can be helpful 😂

Or for example, in my poetry class, I was looking at the way Korean sentences are formed and the way they do those fun games where they take a word and split it into syllables to make new sentences and I tried that in my poetry and it was really cool!

The things you learn watching kpop- even just all the things I’ve learned about Korea and the culture- there are SO MANY POSITIVES to enjoying kpop and I don’t want u to feel like ur wasting ur time cuz if nothing else ur probably soaking up some of the language too! And who knows! Maybe u can find some uni friend who like kpop, or maybe there’s a kpop club! Don’t feel alone baby, I’m sure there are lots of other people entering uni with u going through a similar “ooof kpop” moment ;)

U could also always bribe urself with kpop- I would do like: complete this essay outline and then u get to watch the new weekly idol, or things like that?

But yes please message me off anon and I’ll be here to help more if none of these work for you :) I love you, youll get through this ❤️❤️❤️and remember: u are allowed to have things in your life that you love that make you happy that don’t actually add things to ur day to day, ur allowed to just be happy with that thing

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pwapuri · 4 years

Text

Gintsu week day 7: meant to be

It was another dawn in Edo. The katoken program had already passed and they were showing the session of the films that nobody wants to see. Gintoki woke up in a jump dreaming again about some things from the past...When he bet with Takasugi that he could find the watermelon smelling the candy, he can still hear Zura's voice in his head saying it was a bad idea. Although younger Zura was always the most prudent and pleaded with Gintoki and Takasugi to stop getting in trouble without the sensei seeing them. That was when in the dream things got mixed up and Gintoki heard kagura taking Takasugi's place encouraging him to jump off the cliff while Shinpachi cut the watermelon and said the joke was over and the years had passed. An old man with responsibilities shouldn't do these things. It was true.

Upon seeing the friends of past and present, with the ghost of time on top of everyone gintoki woke up with kagura mumbling sleep and Shinpachi without the cover that fell off the sofa. The three had fallen asleep while the katoken program.

-Hey. Go to bed ... Do you all want to get a cold or...

He looked at the two young lying on the couch without concern. How long had it been like this?

At the age that Kagura now had, gintoki had lost Shouyo to the tendoushuu and at the age of Shinpachi he had already killed so many amantos and government officials that he had stopped worrying.

That was all he had now. It was more than he could ever imagine to have. When Otose found him and took him home, Gintoki went through the front door of what is now Yorozuya and thought that how big the space was, even that the space was just three times bigger than the prison cell. There was nothing, no furniture or equipment. He thought about how he would do business being who he was, without a title or master. But as soon as began to know the neighborhood and become friends with people and so they started to trust in his services, It wasn't long before he found these two idiots who started to follow him. That room now looked tiny. Even though Shinpachi sometimes looked at him with contempt and even though he never managed to pay the month, making them be shamed. When they looked at him with admiration, when they asked for help or advice, everything was worth it. He never thought of it as a family because it is dangerous ... as companions it might be cowardly because he knew it was more. But he liked to think that this was another one of those feelings to which no name is given.

And out of all the people he met, almost all had the same title for him ... maybe not as strong as those two little pests who lived with him and whom he paid full attention to ...

All the idiots who gathered around him made him feel that way, indescribable.

As the day came he was thinking about his own life. Those kids weren't going to stay there forever ... nothing is eternal. But where the hell had space for a normal life? Staying here and there with a woman under his arm like the gorilla couple he knew? Or Zura and ikumatsu? No ... none of that seemed natural. Just imagining it made him shiver. The only situation in which he thought to walk around having a normal life was with Ketsuno Ana because he was going to show her off to the world ... after all, it was Ketsuno Ana. But of course it wouldn't be so good in reality after all, He didn't want to burn his wings getting too close to the sun ...and speaking of sun, what time was that?

Looking at the clock, he saw that there were six. He remembered tsukuyo's schedule by chance ... always by chance.

'Believe me, this is the time when I come home.'

After asking what time the hell she stopped working, that's what she answered. He marked her words because it was hard to believe that there were people who enjoyed working so much

He started thinking about things three years ago ... about the woman who had a destiny similar to him. She killed the master herself to protect someone else. What irritated him was perhaps because she was so different from him ... working and working instead of enjoying the life that the master gave her. After thinking so much he understands, her life and his are the same. The difference is that to forget, or rather, to remember that she is alive, she works.

The two were so similar and yet so different. Damn thought that bothered him. Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't she make herself more of an idiot? Why it had to be so independent and beautiful? Beautiful ... a soul so pure and clean. Ah, that was a perfect attribute to keep him interested. But in the end it was impossible to keep something with that woman using just that ... he didn't worth it for her. He was weak and coward, afraid to lose those two lying on the couch, afraid of losing the friendship of others and was afraid of losing the life he won after losing everything two times. Starting over was tiring, new house, new goals, all of this is scary. It was already difficult to keep the feelings in place with those people around him. Imagine new sensations and the worst, new obligations.

But among those moments of fear, he wanted to throw everything up when he remembered that she liked him. She liked it enough to understand that he wasn't hers, who the hell gives up what loves to make someone else happy? What was her problem? Cowardice or courage? But after all, he didn't have the right to speak ...was he's fault to make that so clear , oh look! He thought, we are the same after all.

-maybe today she changes her mind and decides to say she loves me?

It would never happen. Otae and kyuubei were the first to say what he already knew. He was the one who must say he loved her or not. But he couldn't. First because he wasn't going to destroy her heart saying he didn't love her and secondly because he didn't like lying. It was not easy as with Sachan, that is a good woman (in many ways) but dosent work with him. Worse, she knew it and continued to insist.

Tsukuyo no, it was her and that damned hope... so he had to scream that she shouldn't have hope for a no future like him, but scream what she already knew?

Call to tell that you love her and can't live without the smell of lavender and cigarettes. That she's perfect for you in every detail. That she completes you.

Damn ... she knows. And yet she continues to look with those eyes. Eyes full of love and concern, even with a hard mouth to give cruel answers. Maybe he should call and say it. Call now!

Call and tell her to forget you, not to show up! That you can't love her and she needs to move on

What a mess...

What kind of feeling is that? As he thought again, it had no name, no shape. Where does he get these thoughts from?

Finally he picked up the phone and dialed. he thought of the bullshit he was doing on the first touch. Twisting the telephone cord sitting on the chair in the office, he began to murmur: 'Kestuno Ana I'm not cheating on you', 'believe me she's just a friend', 'this thing in my chest isn't what you thinking', 'I haven't seen her for months, I haven't spoken to her ... I'm the crooked savior of her home, I need to see how things are going', 'it doesn't mean betrayal, right?'

Four rings and no one answered. 'ah I knew ... she must have slept it, in fact it was what I should do too'

-Hello?

Everything went white. For a moment he forgot how to answer a phone. he heard the serious voice of the guardian of yoshiwara

-ham ... it's me. Is everything okay out there?

-gintoki is that you?

-Of course, did you think it was the joestar jotaro or something?

-Is this time to call? Have you looked at your watch? When was the last time you woke up so early in life?

What a regret.

-I thought something had happened, you ungrateful bitch

-What the hell would have happened that I couldn't have called the next day ?! You goddamned hollow head!

-My phone rang and I'm just checking, your stupid! -Said gintoki

All lies, the most poorly told. And she knew, again, she knew. She couldn't even hide the excitement of hearing after a night of patrol the voice of the man she loved most in the world.

-Well, it wasn't me... but I thank you for your concern. But there's nothing here that I can't handle. Unless a new yato king appears I don't need your services

-you are really stupid and boring! You will die unmarried! Damn time I called

-grumpy! Damn time I answered!

After a few seconds of silence gintoki was preparing to hang up when tsukuyo interrupted:

-but is everything really okay? Kagura and Shinpachi, are you all okay?

That was what destroyed him. She was like that, tough and sweet ... not much different from the others but something in her gentle way to say those things, how does she do that?

-yea. All right

-How about you? Is everything really okay?

Tsukuyo was never able to disguise it, she wanted to receive that call so much that it seemed like a dream. She was so happy to see that Gintoki remembered the time when she came home ... even though were it by chance. She thanked the universe and begged the man to continue the conversation

-Well, I had a weird dream ...

From that point on, the conversation lasted until the sun started to heat everything up again, until just before Shinpachi opened his eyes and saw the phone off the hook while gintoki slept on the desk. The desperation for the high bill made him yell at Gintoki and force him showering and getting ready, it was too late and they had promised to fix a roof at 11. Gintoki complained but was completely happy to have talked to tsukuyo. The two fell asleep hanging from the phone and it made them feel young again, as if for a moment everything was possible.

After all, that's what they were. The relationship between Gintoki and Tsukuyo might never leave the paper, there would never be room for a normal life ... but what was normal for them anyway? So it was enough. This enormous feeling of joy filled and satisfied him. They never meant to be something because they were already everything for each other.

....

-Tsukuyo, Thank you for love me

-Thank you for letting me love you

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This was the most difficult prompt for me, I don't know why...I've tryed everything...edits, fanarts, comic. None of this managed to transmit my feels abou it. I'll make some fanart for the long prompt but, thats it!

#gintama #gintsuweek #gintsuweek 2021 #Tsukuyo #gintsu #gintoki #fanfic #otp

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hetacon · 4 years

Text

Prom Queen: Chapter 4

First || Previous || Next

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Word Count: 1,800

Pairings: Endgame Prinxiety, Platonic LAMP, more could be included at a later point

Warning: Swearing, small food mention, let me know if there’s anything I missed!

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Summary: “Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

(Make sure to read all the way to the end if you want my thoughts so far! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, my art, or writing! Enjoy the chapter!)

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Virgil started to spend more time with the popular kids after they got back to school, something he never thought would be happening. They were gossipy and didn’t really appeal to Virgil as overall people but Roman was their friend so he started to get to know them for the sake of his best friend. He didn’t even really know them honestly, they almost never talked about themselves or their interests or anything in terms of personal information, the conversations almost consistently focused on the drama going around the school that day. There was something new every time they went over. For a solid month, he and Roman would go chat for a minute or two before going off to find Patton and Logan.

That was actually what they were just doing that day when one of Roman’s friends got Virgil’s attention.

“Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

Virgil looked over to Madison if he remembered correctly, trying to hide most of his shock at the fact that she even addressed him. Not many of Roman’s friends acknowledged him much when they would go over but Virgil guessed they’d taken some interest in him. He had been coming over with Roman for quite a good while now, it figures they’d notice his presence at some point. He had to respond quick though, this chance couldn’t go to waste. “Uh, ok, what do you want to know?”

“What kind of music do you listen to?” Well, an odd question to start off with.

Virgil shrugged a bit. “Eh, just what everyone else listens to, you know? Not really anything in particular. It’s not like I really look for songs to listen to by anyone specific.”

Roman nudged him with a snort. “Since when has this ever been the case? If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’re emo through and through,” he said, a certain fondness to his look. Virgil bumped his shoulder with a laugh back, fixing him with a playful glare.

“And what if I can like things that you don’t expect of me, huh?” Virgil asked with a slight tease. Roman simply raised an eyebrow but shrugged, letting the argument go without much more of a struggle. Roman wasn’t wrong though, he still listened to everything that he had before, none of it had changed despite what he said. Definitely none of what people usually listened to. He was never one to follow trends with music or otherwise and Roman unfortunately knew that.

“Do you do anything interesting?” one of the people joining the conversation asked.

“Things here and there, not exactly much. School is a drag, takes up way too much of my time to actually let me focus on anything even remotely interesting,” Virgil said calmly, trying to look casual. He hoped it was working, he felt like a nervous wreck. With a few laughs and a “Fuck yeah it is!” he mustered up the courage to add in, “I draw if that counts for anything.”

“Oh yeah? Mind if we take a look?”

Virgil nodded and rummaged through his bag, finding a leather bound book. This one happened to be his more serious one, he had another that was far more personal stashed away. Only Roman, Patton, and Logan ever saw that one, and not even in its full entirety. The personal one had gotten a lot more use than the one currently in his hands. Virgil slid the book over the table and he watched as it was opened to a page of really messy scribbles in the shape of a distraught person’s face. He’d remembered drawing that one, he was in the middle of history sophomore year having a panic attack but was too nervous to ask to step outside.

“Woah, this is cool man,” Tyler said as he looked over it, others nodding in agreement. They proceeded to flip through the pages for a bit while they took turns asking him more questions.

With so much talk, Virgil noticed Roman jump up suddenly, tugging at Virgil’s sleeve frantically. “Pat and Specs!” he explained before packing up his things frantically. “So sorry guys, I need to talk to them before we have to go to class! I’ll catch up with you tomorrow!” he shouted out as he started speed walking, Virgil in tow. Virgil barely managed to collect up his stuff before he was at Roman’s side, seeing the slightest crease between Roman’s eyebrows. As relieved as Virgil was to be away from all of the questions and potential judgement, he noticed Roman was in a big rush. He couldn’t really place why.

“Hey, you uh.. You ok? What’s up?” Virgil asked, relieved as Roman slowed down a little as they turned a corner.

“I just want to get to Pat and Specs, they’re our friends you know?” Roman asked with a bit of an edge before sighing. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you to uh.. Hit it off so much with them, I usually just say a quick hello really,” he explained.

“Really? You think so?” Virgil really hoped he was impressing the popular kids, they were Roman’s friends after all. If he was having luck with them, he wasn’t going to lose Roman that easily. He couldn’t possibly do that, not when he’d already put so much at risk.

“Yeah but anyone who doesn’t like you how you are is insane,” Roman said lowly. Virgil thought he saw Roman’s jaw clench for a second but he quickly looked ahead of them as Roman glanced over.

Virgil was tackled in a hug by Patton, causing him to smile as he hugged back. He didn’t smile for long though as the bell rang, causing Roman to sigh. He looked over, laughing a little awkwardly. “Ha, sorry Ro, didn’t mean to make us so late.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s ok, just means we’ll have to get here as soon as possible tomorrow!” With that, he and Logan started to talk as they headed to class together.

Virgil watched as Roman walked away from him and Patton and he frowned slightly before Patton was nudging his shoulder and nodding his head to the direction of their classes.

Virgil nodded back and started walking, burying his hands deep into his pockets. He really wished he had his usual hoodie to pull over his head and hide from the world. His bangs would have to do, giving him a good look at the sickeningly sweet pink he’d decided on a month prior. Who let him do that again?

“Hey, you ok?” Patton asked, silently offering Virgil a cookie. Snickerdoodle today, Virgil would’ve usually loved it.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Virgil told him. “I’m not hungry, thanks though.”

Patton looked at him with a worried look for a second before sighing, taking a bite of the cookie himself. “Alright Virge, if you say so. Who knows, maybe some rest is all you need, make sure you go easy on yourself!”

Virgil agreed, looking ahead of them.

He went home that day and went through the motions in a haze, glad when he finally got out of his disgustingly bright outfit. He stared blankly at the wall when he got a text from Roman.

“Hey, sorry I was so tense where we left things off.. I promise you didn’t do anything, that was all me.”

“What was up with that?” Virgil texted back.

Roman’s response took a minute before it popped up on Virgil’s screen. “I don’t know, I just didn’t expect them to really take such an interest in you. They can be a bit... Stuffy. Like, all the time, I much prefer hanging out with you, Pat, and Specs.”

“I mean, they’re your friends right? They asked me questions, I answered.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Some of your answers surprised me though lol, you are truly a dark and stormy knight after all!”

“Hey, I’m allowed to expand my tastes, aren’t I? You got me into some of your dumb musicals after all.”

“They are not dumb, take that back you jerk!”

Virgil snorted, hugging his pillow to his chest as he typed out another message. “Oh yeah? Make me, you pompous thespian drama queen.”

“I just might!”

Before Virgil could respond, Roman shot him a quick text reading “Shit, GTG, I need to run a few scenes before I sleep! Until tomorrow~!”

“Go chase your dreams of ‘professional make believe’ as Logan would say, night.”

As an afterthought, Virgil tacked on a red heart before blushing harshly, cursing into his hands. He really did that, no taking that one back now was there?

Either way, check in time. Roman was still his friend, they just had a normal conversation like two human beings ought to be able to have. While he seemed a little off-put by some of the changes Virgil was talking about, he didn’t seem to take it as a serious offense so a plus there. The clothes were horrible, Virgil still hated his hair, but he was doing this for Roman so he’d suck it up. Roman’s friends were starting to like him, they liked his art so that was good. Luckily they latched on to something he couldn’t lie about.

Just as Virgil was about to go to bed, another notification popped up on his phone, this time from an unknown number. Virgil stared at it for moment, his brow furrowed. He opened it though and read it.

“Hey Virgil, this is Madison! Got ur number from Roman’s phone lol, hope u don’t mind sweetie!”

Well, he kind of did mind but putting that aside-

“Hi, did you need anything?”

“Not rn but I might! Just wanted to have ur number just in case. Anyways, I’m going to bed, see u tomorrow!”

Virgil nodded to himself before he got one more text.

“BTW loveeeee ur artwork, keep up the good work bby!”

This was certainly... Bizarre. He didn’t expect to ever have the number of a popular girl in his phone but he never knew high school would be this insane. He’d survive this though, for Roman if nothing else. And if not, he just might lose Roman forever and never be able to forget about it for as long as he lives! Ok, breathe Virgil, breathe...

Things would work out, Virgil was going to make sure they did or die trying. Nobody, Roman included, could think to stop him now.

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More Prom Queen content huh? Anyways hey hey hey guys! How’d you like the newest chapter?

To be honest, I’m not sure how to feel about this one. I feel like all of my writings sound like they’re in an echo chamber. Like as if the events are completely isolated and don’t fit into an expansive narrative and existence. I have no idea if that makes a bit of sense, it might just be my depression tbh? It’s been kicking my butt more than usual.

But Virgil is finally getting noticed by the popular kids, woohoo! This obviously can’t go wrong! We shall see what Virgil will be getting up to with time!

As always, feel free to leave comments or send me asks and whatnot if you want to talk with me about the story! I’d love to hear from you guys!

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Taglist: @artissijules, @virgils-paranoia, @its-the-cat-queen, @myyoutubecorner, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog, @tssidesfamily, @shapa-likes-art, @isabelle-stars, @falsemood, @katlikethesword

#sanders sides #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #multichapter #prom queen #stan writing

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myveryownfanfiction · 4 years

Photo

Chapter 2

When I walked into the office the next morning, I looked in Andy’s office to see Jim, Pam, Kevin and Andy having some discussion. I decided to ignore it unless they called me in on it. I got to work right away, only being distracted when Robert walked in.

“Good morning Robert.” I smiled at him as he passed my desk. He returned my smile and squeezed my shoulder as he passed.

“Good morning (Y/N).” Robert turned back to me before going into the conference room. “You free after Dwight’s Sabre meeting?” I nodded. “Good. I’m going to meet with Andy and you right after.”

“Sounds good.” I nodded again as I made a note of it. Robert smiled at me again before heading into the conference room. A few minutes later, the meeting in Andy’s office ended and everyone filtered out. It was a surprisingly quiet morning. Before we knew it, Dwight was calling us into the conference room for his meeting. I rolled my eyes at Dwight as he filtered us in and immediately moved to the back to sit next to Robert. “If I fall asleep, don’t bother waking me until it’s over.” I joked as I sat down. Robert chuckled.

“Are Dwight’s meetings that bad?” Robert asked as he put his arm around the back of my chair. Seeing Dwight was about to start his meeting, I nodded.

“You’re about to see.” I whispered.

“This week we are rolling out the brand new Sabre tablet...the Pyramid.” Dwight held up a triangle shaped tablet. I sent Robert a confused look.

“Not my idea.” he leaned closer so I could hear him. I giggled as I nodded my understanding. We looked back at Dwight to see him shaking his head.

“Oh no no no. Without the battery pack and optional memory booster, it’s barely three pounds.” Dwight’s arms were clearly shaking as he held the tablet.

“How much memory does it have without the booster?” Ryan spoke up. I leaned closer to Robert.

“What is this? I know it isn’t your idea but did you really approve this idea?” I turned my head to see Robert’s reaction. He was watching Dwight with confusion clear on his face.

“I don’t…” Robert turned towards me and gave me a shy smile. “I may have been drunk.” I quickly covered my mouth to hide my laugh. We sat listening to the end of Dwight’s meeting, sharing glances and trying to hide our laughter. Once it was finished, we waited for Andy outside his office and tried to get our laughter under control. The door opened as soon as we finished laughing.

“Hi dad!” Andy said. I have him a confused look. In any other situation, I would be on the floor laughing but the look on Robert’s face kept sober. “Ah. Oh boy.” Robert brushed over the mistake and walked into the office.

“Hello Andy.” He looked at Andy’s tie. “Excellent tie.” Erin peaked her head in.

“Would you be requiring a cold beverage while you’re here?” She asked. Robert looked at Andy while he answered.

“I’d love some coffee.” Erin nodded as she left the room, closing the door behind her. Robert looked over at me as we sat down in front of Andy’s desk. “I was looking over your projections and I think we can do better.” I bit my lip as I watched Andy crumble.

“Are you factoring in the...whole national...economy...declining and all that?” Andy was clearly grasping at nothing. Robert gave him a strange look.

“Are these projections for Andy personally or everyone?” I jumped in. Robert looked at me.

“The entire office.” He turned his attention back to Andy. “Andy, do you know why I chose you?”

“I think I can sum it up with what I think is your favorite ice cream flavor.” Andy paused while Robert looked at him. “Vanilla?” Robert chuckled.

“Vanilla? No no no no. You’ll never guess in a million billion years.” He shook his head. I made a mental note to ask him what it was later.

“You were saying you chose me.” Andy deflated. “There was a reason?”

“Andy, can you inspire? Do you have that skill set?” Robert looked at Andy expectantly. Andy was saved by Erin walking back into the office. “Oh! Thank you. Uhm…” The cup Erin was holding was filled to the brim.

“Oh, sorry.” Erin said as she looked around.

“Put it on the desk Erin.” I whispered. She nodded as she set it down. Robert leaned down and sipped it. He drew back in shock.

“That’s very cold.” I looked between Robert and Erin. At least that explained why she hadn’t brunt her hands.

“Yeah. It’s old.” Erin smiled. I looked at her confused. I opened my mouth to say something but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Why would I…?” Robert looked at me and then at Erin, confusion clear on his face.

“I asked if you wanted a cold beverage and you said coffee.” Erin said, confusion clear in her voice.

“Why don’t we get Robert a nice hot fresh cup and I’ll have this.” Andy cut in. Robert looked at Andy before sharing a look with me. We watched their exchange. When Erin left the office again, Robert turned back to Andy with a smirk.

“You like her.” He stated. Andy looked at me and back to Robert. Clearly Andy was thinking the same thing as me. If it was that clear Andy liked Erin, how clear was it that I liked Robert?

“You know, we’ve both been into each other at different times and just never really synced up. Now we’re in this weird dance…” Andy attempted to explain himself.

“I’m afraid you’ve lost my interest.” Robert cut him off, sending a look my way. He walked out of the office and I quickly followed. Andy came out behind me. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned towards Robert, Andy and I. “If the office superstore was supposed to put us little suppliers out of business, why are we still here?” I watched Robert, trying to figure out what he was doing. Kevin raised his hand.

“This is where we go.” He said. I nodded and smiled at him. At least he had the guts to actually answer Robert.

“Oh, you’d go someplace else.” Robert chuckled and looked around the room. “That’s not it. That’s not the answer.” It dawned on me what Robert was trying to do.

“It’s an answer.” Kevin pushed. Robert looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He was clearly not used to being challenged.

“It’s a wrong answer.” He stated. I bit my lip, knowing full well Kevin was going to keep going until Robert cut him off.

“There are no wrong answers.” Kevin shot back. I flashed him a smile again and Kevin nodded in triumph. It was short lived though.

“Take a look at where you are, where you once worked in a dying industry, you now work at its birth.” Robert said. He turned away from Kevin and I made a note to bring him something for his efforts the next day. “Those superstores are terrified of us. Anybody know why?” I held up my hand to Kevin and shook my head. He had done his best for the day. He didn’t need Robert going after him.

“Wait,” Phyllis looked at Stanley. “They’re terrified?” Robert chuckled.

“Let me tell you how I buy something these days. I know what I want, I go to the internet, I get the best price. Or I don’t know what I want and I go to a small store that can help me. The era of personal service is back. You are back. You’ll find that customers will pay our higher prices and then they will thank us, and we will say to them ‘you are welcome.’” Robert nodded at the office as they applauded him. He turned towards Andy and me. “Adnrew, I chose you for a reason. Lead these people. Show me the best numbers this place has ever seen. Last quarter we saw 4% growth. Double it.” My eyes widened. That was a lot to ask of the office.

“You got it.” Andy said. I stepped in.

“Robert, I’m not sure…” Robert cut me off.

“Double it.” He started to walk out of the office. I tailed him.

“Done.” Andy called after him.

“Robert.” I stopped him just outside the office.

“I’m not kidding (Y/N). I want it doubled.” He said as he leaned against the wall. I nodded.

“I get that and trust me it’d be great if it happened. But it's going to take some time.” I shook my head. “I don’t know if we can double it this quarter. Eventually sure but not this quarter.” Robert drew closer to me.

“Double.” He said as he put his hands on my shoulders. “I know the office can do it. Andy can inspire them to do it. If he fails, so be it. It’s on him. But they will at least look to him for incentive.” I closed my eyes and sighed.

“Fine.” I shook my head. “What role do I play in this?” I opened my eyes and gazed at Robert. It was hard to keep my blush down when he was standing so close to me.

“You don’t have one.” Robert said with a smile. “All you have to do is keep me informed. It’s the easiest job out of anyone in the office.” I nodded.

“I’ll keep you posted on what Andy does.” I sighed. Robert nodded.

“I’ll be back later in the day.” He smiled. “I’ll see you then.” Robert leaned in and kissed my cheek before starting off towards the elevator. “Oh. By the way, would you like to get dinner tonight?” he leaned around the corner, a nervous smile on his face. I looked at him wide eyed.

“That...that sounds lovely.” I gasped. Robert chuckled and nodded.

“Great! I’ll text you the details later.” He sent another smile my way. “It is a little obvious (Y/N). I know you were wondering earlier.” He called back as he turned back towards the elevators and got in. I stood in place, shock filling my body. As I finally snapped out of it and started walking back into the office, a blush covered my cheeks. I walked in to see Andy sitting on Jim’s desk and everyone looking at him.

“I was thinking about Robert. Man. What a boss.” Andy saw me walk to my desk in a daze. “Just throws down goals, you know? Anyway, how’s the sales doubling project going?” Jim sent me a look as well but I made a motion that meant I would tell him later.

“Yeah, how are we supposed to do that.” Phyllis said, sending a look at me. “We can’t just press a magic button.” Andy nodded.

“Of course not. There’s no magic button. You have to summon that.” He chuckled.

“If we could just double our sales, we already would have. You’re not making any sense.” Stanley shot back. I snapped out of my daze and gazed around the room. Everyone was throwing looks at me.

“He brings up two good points. Do you have any new leads? Any new territories you want us to look into?” Jim looked over at me. “Maybe have an in with a big client that we can get our foot in the door?” I pointed at Jim and started digging through Michael’s old accounts. If there was anything there we could get a start at an attempt to win back some old clients.

“Dwight, anything?” Andy asked, watching me fly through the papers.

“We could talk about how fast children grow up, and before you know it they’re out of the house.” Dwight said, clearly taking a shot at Jim.

“You know what? We need to get our heads out of the box. If we did have something what would it look like? What would it be?” Andy said. I gave up on the pile of old clients and shook my head at Jim. He raised his hand again. “Tuna.”

“New leads, a new territory to look into, maybe an in with a big company that we could get our foot in the door…” Jim trailed off. Everyone was looking at me again.

“Good sesh.” Andy said as he stood up. He tripped and I had to fight back a laugh. “That leg is asleep.” He started to limp towards his office. “Oh (Y/N). Meeting in five in my office.” I nodded as I went through the list of clients that Jim had pulled up on his computer.

“Ok now tell us.” Dwight leaned over to join the little group that had gathered around my desk. I turned read as I looked at the group. Jim and Pam were looking at me like they knew what had gotten me so red. Dwight was looking at me like I would tell him I lost the assistant manager position and he had gotten it back. Angela was looking at me like I had grown another head, which wasn’t all that different from how she normally looked at me. Erin looked like it was story time which was kind of cute if I had to admit it. I looked at the camera and sighed.

“Robert is testing Andy.” I said. “He wants the numbers for this quarter doubled. He seriously does. And this is his way of making Andy prove that he was right to make him manager.”

“There should be a different way aside from making everyone else do the hard work.” Jim said. “Is there nothing you can do about it (Y/N)?” I shook my head.

“Believe me. I tried. It was just short of following him out of the building and arguing with him.” I sighed, fighting the grin that was threatening to take over my face. “There is absolutely nothing that can be done about this. We just have to figure out some way that we can double our sales.” Everyone nodded before heading back to their desks. I bit my lip as I noticed Jim, Pam, and Dwight were still looking at me expectantly. “What?” I asked, looking at each of them in turn.

“Don’t what us.” Pam said. “We saw the way that you came back in here. Robert said something to you.” I blushed and ducked my head.

“What did he say?” Dwight asked. He leaned on his desk, clearly expecting something that involved the office.

“Swear you won’t tell anyone.” I looked at the three of them. I knew there was a habit of the whole office finding out everyone’s secrets. I wasn’t taking any chances. Not this time. “Swear it.”

“We swear.” The three chorused.

“Now what did he tell you?” Pam leaned closer to me and stared with rapt attention. I smiled at her enthusiasm and knew that she would be asking me a million questions for the rest of the week.

“Robert asked me to dinner.” I whispered. Pam’s jaw dropped and Jim ran a hand down his face. Dwight looked at me and shook his head before getting back to work.

“What did you say?” Pam said quietly. I blushed.

“I said yes.” I smiled as Pam’s smile grew. Jim shook his head.

“Why would you do it?” Jim asked. Pam sent him a look.

“Jim. Don’t say that.” Pam scolded him.

“I did it because I like him.” I shot back. “And while many of you see him as a creep or odd or maybe even think he’s borderline crazy, I think that’s what makes him a good CEO and a good person. So say what you want Jim. I’m going to do what I think is right.” Jim sighed before shaking his head.

“Fine. But don’t forget he is the CEO.” Jim said. “And that he is a fairly creepy guy. Even if he is a genius.” Pam squeezed my hand and smiled at me.

“It’s going to go great. I just know it.” She said. “Tell me everything tomorrow.” I nodded and struggled a little to get back to work. Before long, Andy was calling everyone into the conference room.

“Thanks for coming in guys.” Andy said as we all filled in. I took a spot next to Jim and Pam since Robert wasn’t there to amuse me.

“You don’t have to thank us for coming in.” Phyllis said as she took a seat. “It’s our job.”

“Well I never got thanks for coming into a meeting and I always wanted to be so I’m gonna thank people.” Andy sassed her. I sighed and rubbed my forehead at his actions. This was not going to end well.

“What’s with the blanket?” I finally asked as everyone settled into their seats. Andy removed it with a flourish.

“This is what’s under the blanket.” Andy said. I closed my eyes and sighed. I doubted that this is what Robert had in mind when he told Andy to inspire the office.

“We don’t get it.” Oscar said.

“These are incentives. It’s how we’re gonna double growth. Now, you’re probably all asking yourselves: ‘Well, how does this work?’” Andy was putting on a show and I did not want to see where it went.

“Seems like a basic reward system where you give us points, and then we redeem those points for prizes.” Pam jumped in.

“You’re exactly right and you get a point.” Andy smiled at her. I rolled my eyes and stood up.

“And I’m out.” I said, moving towards the door.

“How does one get a point?” I heard Meredith ask as I made my way to my desk. Shaking my head, I pulled out my phone. I sat down and looked at the contact I pulled up. Biting my lip, I pressed the dial button.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end answered.

“Hi Michael.” I breathed out. I heard the smile on the other end of the line even though I could not see it.

“(Y/N)!” Michael exclaimed. “What’s shaking?” I laughed and walked into the annex.

“Can’t I just call my favorite manager?” I joked. Michael laughed.

“You can but that’s not what you do.” He said. I sighed. “What’s happening at the office?” I spent the next ten minutes filling him in. “Is that all?” Michael sighed.

“Michael, I don’t know what to do.” I ran a hand down my face. “I’m being asked by the CEO to effectively spy on the rest of the office. On top of that, I’m going to go out with him.” I stood up and started pacing. “What do I do? How do I handle this?”

“(Y/N), you need to breathe.” Michael said calmly. “You do what has been asked of you. But you do it on your terms. Give him what you think he should know. If you think all he should know is the basics, then tell him the basics. If you think he should know everything, then tell him everything.” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“And what about….” I sighed. “The other part?” Michael laughed.

“(Y/N), you really expect me to give you advice on that?” He teased. “I married the woman everyone told me not to go after. Do you honestly think I am going to be the one to tell you not to go out with him?” I laughed.

“I suppose you are right Michael.” I admitted. “Speaking of, how is Holly?” Michael sighed.

“Her parents aren’t doing that great but she’s doing fairly well otherwise.” He said.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I said quietly. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m good. A little bored spending all day at home with the kids.” Michael waited for the ball to drop.

“Kids?” I exclaimed. “Michael, you’re a dad?”

“Yeah. Best thing that ever happened to me.” He said.

“That’s what she said.” I giggled. Michael’s laugh came over the line and I felt myself finally relax for the first time that day. “In all seriousness Michael, congrats.”

“Thanks (Y/N).” He said happily.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to the kids then. Thanks for all of your help Michael. It means an awful lot to me that you actually answered.” I said.

“I’ll always pick up the phone for you (Y/N). You know that.” He said. “I’m always there for any of you. And I always will be.”

“I know Michael.” I confirmed.

“Tell you what, one day you bring that CEO of yours around and introduce me to him. We’ll see if he’s good enough for you.” Michael teased.

“I’ll do that Michael. I’ll talk to you later.” I said, tears threatening to spill over. Michael said his goodbyes and hung up. I wiped away the tears and pulled up Robert’s contact. Michael was still looking out for me, even though he wasn’t in Scranton anymore. I went back into the main office and looked at everyone bustling around.

“What’s going on?” I asked Pam. She was smiling and working on some drawings.

“Andy said if we get five thousand points, he’ll get a tattoo on his ass.” She said before showing me a couple of drawings. My mouth fell open as I looked at the drawings.

“How many points do you have now?” I asked. Pam looked at Jim.

“Halfway there.” He said. Looking around the office, I nodded as I started to walk out of the office. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. Finding the one I was looking for, I pressed call and waited for Robert to answer his phone.

“Robert California.” I smiled at the way he answered his phone.

“Hi Robert. It’s (Y/N).” I said.

“(Y/N)! I was actually just going to call you. How are things at the office?” He asked. I bit my lip and made a split second decision about what to tell him.

“Andy found an incentive.” I said. “He had the office halfway to the amount that they need to get him to get a tattoo on his butt.” Robert chuckled.

“That’s how he’s doing it?” He asked. The absurdity of the act finally caught up to me.

“Yeah. That’s what he’s doing.” I said. “It’s ridiculous but it’s working.”

“That’s good.” Robert said. I heard cheering coming from the office. “What’s that noise?”

“Hold on let me check.” I walked back into the office and nearly dropped my phone when I saw the points total. “Holy shit they did it. In one day. They’ve doubled sales and gotten enough points for Andy to have to get a tattoo.” Robert gasped on the other end of the line.

“They seriously did it?” He asked, astonished.

“They did it Robert.” I breathed. I looked around the office as everyone filed into the conference room. “They really did it.”

“Were you going to go with them when Andy….” Robert trails off, leaving the question unasked.

“I didn’t plan on it.” I said. “That wasn’t something I particularly wanted to see. Why do you ask?” I heard Robert chuckle on the other end.

“Did you want to move our date up?” He asked. I rubbed my bottom lip.

“Am I going to get out of work for the rest of the day? Or do I have to wait to finish my work some other time?” I asked. Robert chuckled and I had to turn towards my desk to hide the blush that was coloring my face. I started to gather my belongings and head out the door.

“You are out of work for the rest of the day. But I will have to dock the pay.” Robert teased. I laughed and left a note for Pam on her desk.

“That’s okay sir. I’ll just stay late tomorrow to make it back.” I teased him back. “Where are we going? This way I know where to meet you.” I had entered the elevator and was headed out to the parking lot.

“About that…” Robert trailed off.

“What do you…” I laughed as I walked outside and saw Robert leaning against his car with his phone pressed to his ear. Robert hung up and came over to me. “You do like the element of surprise.” I stood in front of him and shook my head.

“Is that really so bad?” He asked, gently taking my belongings from me. I shook my head.

“No. It’s not.” I made my way over to his car and opened the trunk. Robert smiled as he put my stuff in there and closed it.

“I have to do an interview and then we can leave.” He said and I nodded before getting in the car. He walked off to join the camera crew and they started filming. I listened in while checking my messages from Pam. Apparently they changed the design last minute and gave Andy a dog that was dressed like him. “Why did I choose Andy to run the office? Because he’s all surface, uncomplicated. What you see is what you get. Could be a recipe for mediocrity, yes, but then again, it might just be why people fight for him.” I smiled at Robert’s comments about Andy. “There’s something about an underdog that really inspires,” he paused and I looked over at him. “The unexceptional.” The crew nodded to show that he was done and he walked back over to the car. Getting in, Robert looked at me. “What?” I smiled and shook my head.

“Nothing.” I said. Robert gave me a look. “Ok just that was actually pretty good. I didn’t realize you chose him because the office would do anything for him just as much as he would do anything for them.” Robert smiled and started the car before pulling out of the parking lot.

“Sometimes people surprise you.” He said. Looking over at me, Robert paused. “And sometimes people make you think twice about what you are doing.” I played with the hem of my shirt.

“I make you think twice?” I asked. Robert nodded and cocked his head.

“In a good way.” He assured me. “You had me second guessing the whole double the figures speech I gave Andy the second I stepped into the elevator. And since that first day I’ve been thinking about how you should have become manager and not Andy. But the little stunt he pulled today, I’m not quite sure you would have been able to do that.” I laughed and shook my head.

“No way would I let them design a tattoo and put it on my ass!” Robert laughed and I rolled up my sleeve. “I let my friends talk me into getting a group one when we graduated. It ended up terribly because we let the least artistic person in the group design it.” I showed Robert the tattoo on the inside of my arm by the elbow.

“What is it supposed to be?” He asked as we pulled up to a stop light and he looked at my arm.

“The eye of Horus.” I laughed. “Surrounded by a crown. Even though you wouldn’t tell at first glance.” Robert looked closer and nodded.

“I can see it once you point it out.” He chuckled before taking off down the street again.

“Which is exactly why I wouldn’t let anyone design a tattoo for me ever again.” I rolled down my sleeve and smiled at him. “Even Pam and she’s a great artist.”

“Understandable.” Robert said as he pulled into the parking lot of an apartment building. “Is this ok?” I looked at him confused. “It’s my apartment. I thought we could maybe cook something up and have dinner in.” My gaze softened as I nodded.

“That actually sounds like fun.” I said. Robert smiled as he got out and came around the car to open my door. I got out and followed him up to his apartment. “It’s nice.” I said when Robert led me through the tour.

“It’s really not.” He said with a laugh. “But I’m glad you like it.” He finished the tour in the kitchen where we got to work right away. We kept each other entertained while cooking and at one point, Robert wrapped his arms around my waist as I stood at the stove. I turned my head to look at him and saw that he had the biggest smile on his face.

“Hi.” I said as I returned his smile. “Can I help you?” Robert laughed and shook his head.

“Nope.” He said, pulling me closer to him. I giggled as I quickly put down the spoon that I was using to stir the pot of sauce. “Just enjoying myself and the company.”

“That’s good to hear.” I teased as I put my hands on top of his. “But can I go back to making sure the sauce doesn’t burn?” Robert loosened his hold on me and I moved closer to the stove again. I gently tugged him with me and settled back into him as we waited for the food to finish cooking. Not long after, we made our plates and went to sit at the table. Sitting down, we started to eat. Throughout the dinner we asked each other questions about our lives and things we didn’t already know.

“I want to warn you, I’m in the middle of a divorce right now.” Robert said hesitantly. “She’s got the house right now and I would have taken you there if it wasn’t for her.” I nodded.

“That’s fine.” I said, waving a hand at the comment about the house. “As long as I’m not breaking up something. I don’t mind.” Robert seemed to sag in relief before raising an eyebrow.

“What about you?” He asked.

“In the middle of a divorce?” I laughed and shook my head. “Nope. Never even been married and definitely no significant other.” Robert cocked his head at me.

“Well, I would have expected that someone like you would have…” Robert broke off and waved his hand.

“Nah.” I shook my head again. “Tried that in college and it didn’t work out all that well. They were an ass. Decided it would happen when it happened after that.” Robert nodded and the dinner quieted down after that. Once we had cleared the table and cleaned up, we settled down to watch a little television. Robert put his arm over the back of the couch and I rested my head on his shoulder. It was late when Robert drove me back to the office to get my car. He helped me transfer my stuff from his trunk to mine before opening my door for me.

“I had fun tonight (Y/N).” He said, stalling for time. I nodded and smiled at him.

“I did too.” I said. “Best date I’ve ever had.” Robert smiled before reaching for my hand. I put my hand in his. Robert lifted it and kissed my knuckles.

“So does that mean I get a second date?” He asked, lips still poised over my knuckles.

#James Spader #james spader imagine #james spader fanfic #james spader fanfiction #james spader x reader #robert california #robert california x reader #robert california fanfic #robert california fanfiction #robert california imagine #the office #the office imagine #the office fanfic #the office fanfiction #the office x reader

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paintingwithdarkness · 4 years

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"i run the night slot on campus radio and some jackass keeps calling in to insult my music taste and request high school musical songs instead” with BluePulse please!

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes. Y’all just listened to ‘Today is the Day’ by Yo La Tengo. Next up we have ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes.” Jaime pressed a button on the console in front of him, starting the next song before adding on to his commentary. “If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to call in!”

Jaime switched off his microphone and let the song play, flopping back in his chair. Running the night segment of the Houston University campus radio was a pretty chill gig. It paid him above minimum wage for every hour he worked, he only had to work six hour shifts, and it was only five days a week. Besides that, it was a solo job, and no one was there to tell him what to do. Obviously there had been some ground rules when he’d been hired— no cursing on air, and he had to take call-ins from students— but other than that, he had free rein of the radio frequency and he could play whatever music he wanted from 6 pm to Midnight, Monday through Friday. All he had to do was press buttons on a control console, sit back, relax, and occasionally answer the phone.

Speaking of which... Jaime checked the time. 10:28 pm. Great, that meant it was almost time.

With a groan, he raised a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, eyes squeezing shut. Every night for the past two weeks at exactly 10:30 pm, without fail, the same jackass student had been calling in to insult his music taste and request High School Musical songs instead. The first time it had happened, Jaime had been shocked at the audacity of the student, but had granted the song request anyway. (He had to. It was part of his contract. If a person called in with a song request, Jaime had to grant it. The only exception was if someone requested a song that was inappropriate to air. As long as it had clean/sensored language, and was free from overly explicit themes, Jaime queued up the song).

He mentally prepared himself. ‘Seven Nation Army’ was just about over, and Jaime already had his next song selected. If he timed things right, he could take the annoying student’s call during the next song, and wouldn’t have to subject himself to humiliation where everyone who was listening to his station could hear. It had only taken Jaime three nights to catch onto the trend.

As the guitar faded out, Jaime switched back on his microphone and addressed his audience, “That one’s a classic. ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Hope y’all enjoyed that one. I’ve got a few more songs in store for y’all with the time we have left-”

The tell-tale ring of the phone interrupted him. Jaime had to bite his tongue to prevent the string of Spanish curses that wanted to fall from his lips from actually coming out. He had spent too long talking, and now he had to take the dreaded call on-air.

He took a deep breath, and had to layer on the enthusiasm thick as he ‘cheerily’ exclaimed, “It looks like we have our first caller of the night!” Jaime picked up the phone and gave the scripted greeting, “Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

Like all the nights previous when Jaime had asked this question, he got the same response. “Nah. I think I’ll stay anonymous. Keep things interesting. Though if you want a clue, I’ll tell you; I’m on the track team.”

Jaime scrambled for his notebook. That was the biggest clue he’d gotten yet about this mysterious student caller. It was almost like some kind of game. So far, every night when this student had called in, they’d said they wanted to remain anonymous, yet would give a clue about their identity. So far, Jaime had a bulleted list of eight items, with ‘track team’ being number nine. The other clues he’d received were ‘hates Indie Rock’ (which was Jaime’s favorite genre of music, thank you very much), ‘favorite movie is High School Musical 2’ (which was blatantly obvious, based on the songs this jackass student always requested), ‘favorite color is red’ (which told Jaime squat about who this kid was), ‘favorite food is chicken whizzes’ (once again, jack shit), ‘red hair’ (which was the first major clue Jaime had gotten), ‘green eyes’ (now it was obvious the kid wanted Jaime to figure out who he was), ‘5’9”’ (somewhat helpful), ‘Freshman’ (which eliminated 3/4 of the students on campus this caller could be), ‘mechanical engineering major’ (another somewhat helpful clue), and ‘gay’ (which, wow, Jaime would never out himself live on the air. This guy had some balls...).

After the mad scramble for a pencil, Jaime flipped the notebook open and single-handedly jotted down the new piece of information, balancing the phone against his ear with the other hand. When he was finished, he leaned back in the big leather chair, kicking his feet up against the edge of the desk in front of himself, feeling satisfied. Jaime knew he had enough information now to track down this annoying student and put an end to these stupid calls interrupting his radio show every night. Tonight would be the last time ‘We’re All in This Together’, ‘Bop to the Top’, or ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ would play during his segment, and Jaime was RELIEVED.

“Is that why you feel the need to call into my show every night?” Jaime fired back at the student. “So you can rope all of your track mates into singing ‘We’re All in This Together’ while you run in circles?”

An airy laugh was the response. And there a slight second where Jaime thought to himself, ‘Wow. That’s actually kinda cute,’ before his brain rebooted and he realized how counterintuitive that was. This guy was an annoyance that had to be dealt with. So what if he had an attractive laugh? It didn’t erase all of the other judgements Jaime had already formed of this student. And they were that this guy had terrible music taste and needed to find another hobby besides calling in every night to bug the shit out of Jaime.

“What better song to commemorate mutual suffering?” The other man laughed again.

Jaime scowled. ‘Mutual suffering’? Sure, Jaime knew the vexing student was talking about his track mates, but he couldn’t help catching the irony in the choice of words. As far as Jaime was concerned, the only one doing any suffering was him.

“So is that your request for tonight?” Jaime just wanted to get this over with already.

A contemplative “hmmm” made its way down the line, before being followed with, “Well, I was originally gonna ask for ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ but ‘All in this Together’ works nicely, too.”

“Por Díos,” Jaime mumbled under his breath. “¿No puede este idiota tomar una decisión?”

“Woah, hey, is that Spanish?!” Apparently Jaime’s mumblings hadn’t been quiet enough. “Yo hablo español!”

Jaime cringed. The pronounciation was terrible, but the enthusiasm was endearing. And dammit! He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. His train of thought was off the tracks again.

Without saying anything else, Jaime turned to his computer, quickly punched ‘We’re All in this Together’ into the song search bar, and hit play. He switched over the audio connection so that the only thing his audience could hear was the music, took a deep breath, and then made his rebuttal to the annoying student.

“You might want to work on that pronounciation, ese.”

The response was whiny. “Aww, it’s not that bad!”

Jaime cringed. “It’s not great, either.”

The student on the other line sighed. “Fine. But at least I have good taste in music!”

“That’s debatable.” Jaime didn’t know why he was dragging out the conversation. Usually after he granted this annoying caller’s request each night, the student rattled off a final jab at Jaime, before just hanging up. Why was he staying on the line tonight? Maybe Jaime just had to direct the conversation in that direction?

“My music is better than what you play every night. I’m doing you and your radio station a favor!” And yep, there it was.

“I don’t think people are tuning into my station to listen to the one High School Musical song you insist I play every night.”

Jaime could practically hear the smirk through the line when the other student responded. “Even if people are tuning in to listen to your crappy music, my song is still the highlight.”

Jaime groaned. He was growing weary of this conversation. “Do you listen to anything besides terrible High School Musical songs?”

That cute laugh caught in Jaime’s ears again. “Doi. A guy needs to have a little variety in his music. I’ve also got ‘Can’t Stop Singing’, ‘Turn Up the Music’, ‘Determinate’-”

Jaime’s eyes rolled skyward. “I’m gonna stop you there. Does your playlist contain any songs that aren’t from Disney Channel movies?”

A horrified gasp marked the beginning of the indignant response. “What’s wrong with Disney movies? High School Musical is the crashest movie series in existence.”

Jaime didn’t have enough time to think over the choice of the word ‘crashest’ before the other student continued rambling on.

“What other kind of music do you need?! Disney movies have great numbers, teach you about life and friendship, and growing up, and you gotta be kidding me if you don’t think Zac Efron is hot playing Troy.”

Jaime snorted a laugh for the last amendment to the other student’s statement. He’d only watched High School Musical once, and that was enough for him. And despite occasionally finding other men attractive (being bisexual himself), Zac Efron had never really done it for Jaime.

“I wouldn’t exactly call those ‘musical numbers’ as you put it, any type of masterpiece, however, I suppose you earn a pass for the friendship and growing up part.” Jaime smartly decided to skip the Zac Efron comment altogether, “I would say I’m more of a fan of the Disney animated movies. At least I can tolerate the Lion King and Aladdin sound tracks.”

A little puff of a chuckle, and then, “You should really get a better hobby than bashing on Disney movies.”

Jaime scoffed and immediately fired back, “You’re the one who calls me every night to bash on my music.”

“Oooh.” The other student made a hissing sound, as if a flame were being extinguished. “Caught red handed. But—” And here, Jaime could sense something dangerous was about to be said— “how about we settle this once and for all. You obviously don’t get out of the radio studio enough. What say you come to the next Houston U track meeting? We can settle this music debate once and for all.” Yep. That was a challenge.

Jaime took a few seconds to deliberate. He was curious to see who this mysterious caller was. Besides, what harm could it do? Jaime was not the type to back down when he was challenged. He had his pride and dignity. He would not be bested by this asshole. He was going to go to that track meeting.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, ese.” If the other student were there in person, Jaime could imagine shaking his hand to seal the contract.

“Alright,” the other student said, and if Jaime wasn’t mistaken, he sounded rather gleeful that Jaime had taken the bait, “I’ll see you there.” And then the line went dead.

Jaime ran a hand through his hair as he hung up the phone with the other. What had he gotten himself into?

The next Houston U track meeting was a week and two days since the fated phone call. Since that night, the mysterious student caller hadn’t rung Jaime’s radio station. It was a power move, and a good one at that. He had put the ball in Jaime’s court (or passed him the baton? That was a track thing, right?), meaning all responsibility was on him. In all honesty, Jaime was tempted to skip out on their ‘deal’. Sure, he’d agreed, but only because Jaime’d thought it was the key to get the student to stop calling. Now that the calls had stopped, Jaime saw no reason to get involved and draw attention back to himself. Maybe if he didn’t go, the annoying student would just leave him alone.

On the other hand, if he didn’t go, wouldn’t that just give the other student more incentive to start calling him again? Not only would Jaime continue to get bashed for his music taste, but then the other student would also be able to expose him as a liar. That was definitely NOT the reputation Jaime wanted to have. He had no choice. He HAD to go to that stupid track meeting.

It didn’t mean he didn’t drag his feet the whole way to the field though. Even with his ticket and getting there five minutes early, it was near impossible to find a seat. Jaime had no idea a sporting event like track would be so popular. What was so special about a bunch of guys running around in a circle?

It took a little shoving and some mumbled “sorry”s and “excuse me”s before Jaime was finally able to plunk down next to a young couple, in one of the only empty seats left. They seemed like nice enough people; the man even tried making small talk with him once Jaime sat down; but Jaime’s shy demeanor prevented the conversation from launching into something deeper.

Once the couple was no longer paying him much attention, Jaime surreptitiously slipped his little pocket notebook out of his jeans and flipped it open to the page where he had noted all of the little clues his mystery caller had given him.

Unfortunately, only some of them were usable in this context. Clues about the other student’s personality and preferences wouldn’t help Jaime identify anyone. Only the clues the track star had given Jaime about his physical appearance would be of use. He was looking for a redheaded, green-eyed, 5’9” Freshman. Should be simple enough.

When Jaime glanced down to where the runners were stretching by the starting blocks, he immediately noticed three boys with red hair. Luckily, this track meet was only a Houston U event and other schools weren’t participating. That meant one of the three was his mysterious caller.

From this distance, Jaime couldn’t judge eye color, and height was difficult to gage. He supposed he would have to wait for the announcers to give the names and grades of the competitors. Hopefully only one of the redheads would be a Freshman, and Jaime could find his culprit.

Within a few minutes, a runner was at the blocks for every lane. The first event was the 100m sprint. Everyone on the team would be participating. Only six could go at a time, and the announcer said that there would be three heats. Unfortunately for Jaime, the announcer didn’t bother with the names of the competitors since everyone was running, but he hoped that at least the winners would be announced, in case his redhead happened to be one of them.

In the first heat, two of the three red-haired boys were lined up at the blocks. Jaime trained his eyes on them. The first boy was in the second lane, and the other in the sixth lane. Hopefully one of the two would win so that Jaime could narrow down his suspects.

When the starting gun fired, all six runners took off like rockets. The pure speed was quite a shock for Jaime to witness. Within fifteen seconds, all six runners crossed the finish line.

“Winner!” The announcer shouted, once first place for the heat had been determined. He held up the arm of one of the redheads Jaime had been watching. “Senior Wally West with a time of 10.8 seconds!”

An elderly couple three seats over from where Jaime was sitting sprang out of their seats cheering. “Yeah, Wally!” shouted the man. His wife was enthusiastically clapping.

When they sat down again, the couple next to Jaime (conveniently sandwiched between him and the cheering couple) turned to face them.

“Wow!” the blond man next to Jaime exclaimed. “That’s his fastest time yet!”

The other blond man laughed (and it was then that Jaime noticed the striking resemblance). “He’s been working hard. Of course, he’s no match for Bart, but just maybe Wally might have a shot at beating him in the 3200m.”

The brunette woman of the younger couple hummed, a smirk resting on her lips. “I don’t know about that one. Our Bart’s got Thawne blood, too. He’s got runners from both sides. Wests... not so much.”

“Mel!” the man next to Jaime gasped, scandalized. “I thought we said no family rivalry at track meets?”

Immediately the brunette woman, Mel, appologized. “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s right,” the man from the elderly couple interjected. “You have to remember Donny’s got some West blood himself. Iris was a West before she married me.” He slung an arm around the graying red-haired woman sitting beside him.

It was then that Jaime was able to piece it together. The young blond man— Donny— sitting next to him, was the son of the elderly couple— Iris and her husband (unfortunately Jaime didn’t have his name yet). The younger brunette woman— Mel— was Donny’s wife, and one of the runners— Bart— was their son, and the grandson of the elderly couple. Wally— the runner who had just won the first heat was a relative (?) of the two couples.

By the time Jaime was done puzzling out the relations, the next heat of runners was already at the starting blocks. Unfortunately, the other redhead, whom Jaime guessed was Bart, was not in this heat.

The starting gun fired, and the race was over within fifteen seconds again. The winner was announced, and the runners of the third heat took their places.

Jaime’s gaze zeroed in on the redhead in the first lane. That must be Bart. Mel and Donny were balanced on the edges of their seats next to Jaime.

As soon as the gun fired, Bart was nearly a quarter of the way down the lane. He was insanely fast. Jaime wouldn’t be surprised if he hit an Olympic time. His teammates stood no chance.

When he was announced the winner, Jaime had to do a double take at the 9.63 second time blinking on the screen behind him. That was more than a second faster than Wally, who had won the first heat.

“‘Attaboy, Bart!” Donny yelled.

The exclamation caused Bart’s attention to be drawn towards them. He waved proudly at his parents, and then his gaze caught on Jaime. Even from this distance Jaime could see the electric green eyes trained on him. There was no mistaking it now. Even with the other redhead to consider (since Jaime hadn’t heard his name or grade announced yet), he was certain Bart was his mystery caller. There was something in his eyes— a knowing glint— that made Jaime nervous. Could Bart know who he was?

It wasn’t completely impossible. Because he ran the campus radio at night, Jaime had a page on the school website. His name and picture were plastered right along side Cassie and Gar’s. Cassie had the morning shift from 6 am to noon, and Gar’s comedy segment ran from noon to 6 pm, when Jaime started. All Bart had to do was look him up and he would know exactly who Jaime was.

In retrospect, Jaime easily could have done the same to figure out who his annoying caller was. Once he’d received the track team clue, he could have pulled up the roster and narrowed his suspects down. He could have ruled out Wally because he was a Senior, and possibly even the other redhead based on his year. The announcer had said that Bart was a Freshman when he’d announced him as a winner, so Jaime figured he was the most likely of the three to be the caller. He matched all of the physical descriptors.

There were two more sprinting events that followed, each doubling the distance of the previous. After witnessing the 100m event, Jaime wasn’t surprised when Bart came in first for the 200m and 400m. It was honestly impressive. Bart was talented both in the art of running and annoying Jaime over phone calls. Truly difficult feats.

Once the sprinting events were finished, the competitors moved onto the field. Unlike the sprinting events, some members of the team sat out. Jaime noticed only six members of the team were participating. Two for discus, two for shot put and two for javelin. Neither Bart nor Wally was one of the six. The other redhead on the other hand, was lined up at the javelin throwing line.

Jaime paid him little mind. As soon as the announcer introduced him as a Senior, Jaime tuned out completely. Now there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever. Bart was his mystery caller.

While the field events took place, Jaime watched Bart stretching out on the side of the track. He was surprisingly limber. And Jaime had nothing to blame but the part of his mind attracted to men when he watched Bart bend over in his running shorts to stretch out his hamstrings. He had really nice legs, among... other things.

Jaime shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. He’d come here to put Bart in his place because of the annoying phone calls. Not admire his amazing calves.

When the field events were over, some members of the team moved back onto the track for the hurdle events. Again, Bart was not amongst them.

“He doesn’t do hurdles either?” Jaime accidentally mused aloud.

Donny turned to look at him. “First track meeting?” he asked, kindly.

Jaime felt a blush crop up on his cheeks. He hadn’t meant for his comment to be out loud.

“Yeah,” he admitted, despite his embarrassment.

Donny gave him a smile. “They each only do one event plus the sprints. You’ve got the three field events, hurdles, and long distance.”

“Oh.” Jaime nodded to show he understood.

Donny outstretched his hand. “I’m Don.”

Jaime shook Bart’s father’s hand. “Jaime,” he returned.

When Don took his hand back, he used it to point to his wife. “This is my wife, Meloni.”

The brunette woman waved at him.

“And my parents, Barry and Iris.” He gestured at each member of the older couple as well.

Jaime ducked his head shyly. “Nice to meet you all.”

The pop of the starting gun drew their attention back to the track where the hurdlers had just taken off from the blocks. Jaime watched on in interest, amazed at the skill that had been displayed today. He’d never imagined a track meet being this entertaining.

After a few moments, Don turned back to him. “Who’re you here for?” He pointed down at the track members surrounding the edge of the rubberized circle, cheering on their participating teammates.

Jaime felt that blush bloom on his cheeks again. Should he be honest? He was sitting right next to Bart’s parents. What if they started asking questions he didn’t have the answers to?

“Uh, I-I’m here for Bart.” He didn’t really have any other options. He didn’t know the names of any of the other track members.

Donny’s green eyes suddenly lit up. “Bart didn’t tell us his boyfriend was coming! It’s quite a coincidence we ended up sitting next to one another!”

Jaime gave a hard blink, processing the sentences that had just exited the blond man’s mouth. “Uh, we’re not-”

Meloni cut him off. “Oh! You’re the one who runs the campus radio! I knew your name sounded familiar. Bart talks about you all the time!”

The first thought that went through Jaime’s mind was, ‘Does he now?’. There was no mistaking it. Bart was 100 percent the annoying student who called into his radio segment each night. And Bart knew who he was. As soon as this track meeting was over, Jaime was definitely going to have some words with him.

“It’s so nice to finally get to meet you!”

Jaime didn’t know whether he should burst their bubble. Don and Meloni seemed like genuinely good people, and they were happy for their son having seemingly found a relationship. Although their assumptions weren’t true, Jaime knew he would feel extremely bad telling them otherwise.

Luckily, there wasn’t much time for him to dwell on the subject. As soon as the winners for the hurdling events were determined, the obstacles were cleared off the track and the next set of runners were lining up at the starting blocks. Two heads of red hair immediately caught Jaime’s attention. Bart and Wally were lining up in lanes one and two, while a few more of their track mates joined them in the other lanes.

“Who do you think it’ll be this time?” Barry posed the question aloud.

“I think Bart’s got a running shot.”

Everyone groaned at Don’s poor-quality joke.

“I apologize on my husband’s behalf,” Meloni mostly addressed Jaime, “What he meant was that Bart’s been working on his pacing. He’s the fastest on the team, and has always taken first in all of the sprinting events, but Wally always gives him some good competition for the long distance stuff.”

Jaime nodded thoughtfully. Bart had definitely been fast; no doubt about that. But he was curious to see how he would do in an event that required more endurance. Apparently he would actually have some competition this time, unlike in the sprinting events where Bart had left all of his teammates in the dust.

When the starting gun fired, Jaime found himself actually holding his breath. This first distance was 1500m, just shy of a mile. Jaime could remember having to do the one mile run in P.E. back in high school and how much of a pain it had been. The best time Jaime had ever gotten was just over six minutes.

For the first lap or so, Wally and Bart were neck and neck. The rest of their teammates were about half a lap behind. Then, when they went into the second lap, Bart kicked it up a notch, pulling ahead. Wally kept his own even pace, a schooled look of determination set over his features, while Bart’s lips transformed into a confident smirk.

By the final lap, Bart and Wally were shoulder to shoulder again. It was clear that Wally had the superior skill when it came to pacing, as he had been able to keep the same speed the whole time, whereas Bart’s speed had varied in spurts, depending on his level of endurance. It was unclear which one of them was going to win.

When Jaime looked around at the stands, he could see fans eagerly debating which one of the redheads they thought was going to win. The general consensus seemed to be Wally, but Jaime had a feeling his High School Musical-song-loving caller had a trick up his sleeve.

When they reached the last 100m or so of the race, the stadium burst into cheering, each person of the audience shouting encouragement to their respective runner. Against all odds, and to the surprise of many, Bart burst into a full out sprint, easily overtaking Wally, and crossing the finish line with an enthusiastic whoop.

Jaime was absolutely shocked to say the least. After running three laps, how had Bart found the energy for that last burst of speed?

A time of 4.02 minutes flashed on the screen behind them as the announcer proclaimed Bart the winner. Meloni and Don broke into cheers beside Jaime, and Barry and Iris clapped as well to show their support. Even Jaime found a small smile working it’s way onto his lips as he clapped, in awe of the impressive speed Bart had just displayed.

There was a few minutes between events while the results of the race were recorded and the next set of runners lined up at the starting blocks. Again, both Bart and Wally were among the competitors. This time, the distance was more than double what they had just run at 3200m. Jaime was curious to see how Bart would hold up against the longer distance.

When the starting gun fired, all of the runners took off as a group, rather than Bart and Wally distinguishing themselves from the pack right away. With eight laps to go, Jaime supposed it made sense. No point in going all out during the first half of the race, only to burn out when it really mattered. Bart and Wally would probably wait until the final few laps to burst ahead of their teammates.

Around and around the track they went, keeping pace with one another until the sixth lap. As soon as they passed the starting line, all of the runners kicked it up a notch, and gaps between the competitors became more noticeable. As expected, Wally and Bart pulled ahead of everyone else, and chatter broke out amongst the crowd about which redhead it would be this time.

Barry and Iris seemed to have their money on their nephew (Jaime had finally pieced it together when Barry made the comment about Iris being a West before marriage), whereas Don and Meloni, being the proud parents they were, were betting on their son to come out on top. Jaime couldn’t help being biased, and was also rooting for Bart. After all, he was the whole reason Jaime was at this track meet to begin with.

Bart was giving his all. Halfway into the last lap, he was ahead of Wally by a few steps. It seemed like he had the win in the bag. Then out of nowhere, Wally pulled the same stunt Bart had last time.

Jaime could see Bart do a double take when his cousin passed him, but there was nothing he could do. Bart’s strength was his speed; not endurance. He was only able to give about 80 percent, whereas Wally had paced himself better, and could pour 100 percent of his speed into the last leg of the race.

While Jaime was disappointed to see Bart take second, he was still impressed overall. Wally had beat Bart by two seconds, but Bart had beat the rest of his team by nearly ten seconds, meaning he and Wally had had quite an impressive lead.

Barry, Iris, Don and Meloni were engaged in a chat about the outcome of the latest race, but Jaime found his eyes glued to his not-so-mysterious (anymore) caller. Despite losing the last event, Bart seemed to be a good sport. He and Wally were standing on the sidelines, getting a quick drink and catching their breaths before the final event was set to start. Between gulps of water, Jaime could see the cousins teasing one another, egging each other on, and hyping one another up for the competition of the next race.

When they were called over to the track for the last event, Bart elbowed Wally in the ribs with a cocky smirk on his face, and Wally retaliated by pulling the smaller man into a headlock to ruffle his hair. Jaime didn’t quite know what to make of it, other than that Bart seemed to have a cocky, playful personality. It explained why he had been so adamant about playing the stupid identity game he had roped Jaime into over the phone during his radio segments each night.

The last distance was 5000m, or approximately 12 laps. Just thinking about that much running made Jaime want to cry. Needless to say, he wasn’t a huge fan of running. Other sports, sure, but running was not something Jaime enjoyed for himself. He would have to give massive kudos to Bart for having enough dedication to running to put himself through the 12 lap race.

Again, all of the runners stayed in a pack for the majority of the race. By about lap eight, it was clear who the real endurance runners were. The six competitors had spread out, a few feet behind one another, with Wally leading. There was a black-haired guy on his heels, and following behind him were Bart and another black-haired runner, a little shorter than the man in front of him. Two more runners were taking up the rear.

Laps nine, ten and eleven passed without much change. It wasn’t until they got into the final lap that Bart mustered the energy to pull ahead of his two black-haired teammates and take up the trail behind his cousin.

Wally’s winning time of fourteen minutes and two seconds flashed up on the scoreboard, followed by Bart’s time of 14.08. Jaime almost had to do a double take. When he calculated the math, it meant Bart had averaged a time of approximately a minute and eleven seconds per lap, and Wally had been faster still!

While the judges and officials were confirming the results of all of the events that had taken place, the stadium around Jaime burst to life as audience members began to make their exit down to the track to meet with and congratulate the athletes they had come to support. Beside him, Don, Meloni, Barry and Iris stood from their seats and gathered up their belongings, preparing to go congratulate Bart and Wally on their wins in today’s events.

“You should come with us, Jaime,” Meloni suggested when Jaime didn’t stand up with the rest of them.

Immediately, a stone sank in the college student’s stomach. What would Bart think if he saw Jaime with his parents? He and Bart hadn’t even met yet. How would Jaime be able to explain if Bart’s parents brought up the boyfriend issue?

Reluctantly, Jaime got up to follow the two couples down to the track. He was sweat-dropping. He really hoped Bart’s parents wouldn’t make things awkward.

As soon as he was in range, Don slung an arm around his son’s shoulders, congratulating him on his multiple wins. Meloni also smothered Bart in a hug when she got her opportunity, cooing over how well he had done. Beside them, Barry and Iris were doing much of the same to their nephew, expressing their awe of Wally’s endurance in the long-distance events. Meanwhile, Jaime stood awkwardly by, waiting for a chance to hopefully have a chat with his not-so-mysterious caller.

When the Allens finally separated from their son, Jaime locked eyes with Bart. There was a glint in those green irises that Jaime couldn’t place. It wasn’t good or bad per say; Jaime could only describe it as making him feel on edge, ready to tip one way or the other.

As soon as Meloni noticed the stare between the two boys, she immediately turned on Bart, much to Jaime’s horror.

“Bart! Why haven’t you introduced us to your boyfriend? He’s such a handsome young man.” She used an insistant hand to push Jaime forward, so much so that he almost stumbled and fell into the chest of his supposed “boyfriend”. Luckily, Bart’s hands came up and caught him by the biceps before that could happen.

Both his and Bart’s eyes widened. Pink burned hot on each of their cheeks. Jaime took a quick step back. He felt like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Well?” Don goaded. “Don’t be shy! I’m glad to see my son’s finally been able to put the Allen-family charm to use! How long have you two been together?”

Jaime could feel the color in his cheeks getting darker by the second. Bart was still giving him this weird look, as if it weren’t his parents who had instigated this whole conversation in the first place. The prolonged awkward eye contact was making Jaime uneasy, and he was tempted to just speak up and shut down Bart’s parent’s idea about him and their son being in a relationship, but before he had the chance, Bart was clearing his throat to speak.

The track star raised a hand to the back of his neck, and Jaime had to do a double-take at the innocent “embarrassed” façade he was now putting on. “Well,” he said, playing bashful, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, Babe.”

Jaime’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates upon hearing the pet name. Bart was just going to go along with this?!

Without preamble, the redhead slung his arm around Jaime’s shoulders, crushing him into his side in a display of “affection” for his parents’ benefit. “Jaime’s a little shy,” Bart said, when Jaime failed to fill in the silence. “He wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I’m actually a little surprised he came to the track meet today.”

Bart subtly bumped Jaime’s hip with his own, which was a cue for him to talk. It took a moment for the raven-haired boy to scramble for a response. He would play along... for now.

“I had to see if you were as good as you were making yourself out to be,” Jaime had noticed Bart’s encoded message; he hadn’t expected Jaime to take his phone call seriously and show up. Jaime was giving his own back in return (I had to discover who the annoying caller was).

Bart chuckled. “Would I ever lie to you?”

Jaime had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Now the guy was just laying it on thick.

“Of course not, Chiquito.” The pet name came out from behind clenched teeth.

Luckily, Mel and Donny seemed to buy their act. When it was clear they were in the clear, Bart asked, “Mom, Dad, is it okay if I have a few minutes alone with my boyfriend?”

Meloni and Don shared a look before Don said, “Okay. But no hankey-pankey behind the bleachers!” He waved a finger at them, teasing smile in place over his lips.

Jaime felt himself going pink. “Of course not, Sir,” he managed to get out, in spite of how mixed up this situation had gotten.

Bart grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him a little ways down the track so that they were out of Meloni and Don’s hearing range. As soon as he had the opportunity, Jaime whirled on him.

“What the hell was that back there, ese?” Jaime hissed.

Bart shrugged. “They bought it, didn’t they?”

Jaime felt his eyes narrow into a glare. “Why didn’t you correct them?”

Bart did another shrug, this time with a knowing expression on his face. “It’s not like you said anything either.”

Jaime’s glare fell apart under the truthful accusation. It was his fault for not immediately shutting down the idea when Don had first brought it up to him in the stands.

Bart placed his hands on his hips and began rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels. “In all honesty, I’m actually surprised you showed up.”

Jaime emulated Bart’s pose, resting a fist against his hip and gesturing with the other. “Well, I couldn’t risk you calling back during my segment tonight and accusing me of being a liar in front of my entire audience, now could I?”

Bart tilted his head in such a way that Jaime had to repress the thought of ‘Oh, that’s cute,’ before it accidentally slipped out of his mouth.

A faint pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks. “I guess I did kind of back you into a corner, didn’t I?” He raised a hand to the back of his neck, and it was the moment that Jaime realized Bart was genuinely sorry for having done so. While he may have wanted Jaime to show up today, it was clear now that he wouldn’t have used Jaime’s absence as blackmail against him if he had decided not to show.

Not wanting Bart to feel guilty, Jaime shrugged it off. “No es gran cosa.”

A smile worked its way onto Bart’s mouth. “I have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing by the look on your face, you’re not actually all that bothered by it.”

Jaime sighed. “Well, besides inviting me here so I can tell you how much I hate granting your High School Musical requests every night, what exactly is the reason?”

Bart scoffed. “I can’t believe you had the audacity to say that to my face!” He was trying to deliver the line seriously, but the smile on his lips told Jaime that he wasn’t actually offended.

Jaime shrugged, a small smirk working its way onto his own lips. “What can I say? Disney Channel movies are cheesy, and their sound tracks are even worse.”

Bart chuckled. “Your music is too depressing. You need something more upbeat. Less lyrics about death, sad childhoods, and oppression. ‘We’re All in this Together’, right ah-me-go?”

Jaime cringed, both at Bart’s pronunciation and at the stereotypes. His music was more complex than what Bart was making it out to be. Besides, Jaime wasn’t here to argue anyway. Bart had invited him to this track meeting with ulterior motives, and Jaime was determined to figure out what they were.

“Not all of my music is depressing,” Jaime countered. “Besides, you ignored my question. Surely you had some kind of motive in inviting me here besides to just discuss your terrible music taste. I want to know what it is.” Jaime raised both eyebrows.

An unexpected pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks, covering up the freckles sprayed like paint across his Caucasian skin. “I wanted you to notice me.” Jaime nearly missed the words, for they came out of Bart’s mouth in a whisper.

“You wanted me to notice you?” He repeated the statement, hoping for a bit of an explanation.

Bart’s blush deepened, skin in competition with his hair for reddest feature. His green eyes were piercing the ground, seemingly in an effort to burn a hole big enough to burry himself in to avoid such embarrassment. His fingers twisted harshly against one another. His whole aura had changed from the confident runner he had been on the track to nervous schoolboy.

“We’re in the same physics class.” Bart’s sneaker kicked up a puff of dirt as he ground his toe into the sand.

Jaime blinked. He’d never seen anyone like Bart in his physics class. Was he that non-observant that he had missed him?

“I-I usually sit behind you.” It sounded like Bart was struggling to admit something difficult. Usually Jaime was the shyer one in conversations, so he completely understood what it felt like having to lead a difficult conversation. But he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Bart was on the edge of a confession, and Jaime had to know what it was.

“I noticed how a-attractive—” Bart’s blush deepened yet again— “you were pretty much as soon as I laid eyes on you. I-I wanted to get to know you better, so I asked around a little. Turns out Cassie’s a mutual friend of ours. She told me a little bit about you, from working with you at the radio station, and I did a little bit of research on my own. I looked you up on the school website. I started calling in to your station. I kept asking Cassie if she could find out more about you for me. Your favorite color, food, movie... Any hobbies, or things you like. I started piecing together this picture of you in my mind, using our conversations on the phone to confirm or deny my theories about you. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was desperate for you to notice me, so I started dropping hints on the phone, hoping you would take an interest. But you didn’t. And I-I can understand if-if you don’t feel the same way but IthinkIaccidentlyfellinlovewithyou.”

Jaime blinked hard. “¿Qué?” That last bit had left Bart’s mouth in an unintelligible jumble of sounds. Had Bart just admitted he was in love with him?

When Jaime snapped out of his confusion and looked back at Bart, he saw that the track star was struggling to hold back tears. A salty droplet fell from his chin and landed on the ground between them, creating a dark spot in the dirt. His shoulders were trembling with the effort to not let out a cry.

Guilt settled hard in Jaime’s stomach, like a boulder being dropped into a lake. The aftershocks were still rippling through his system. The pieces were slowly coming together.

Bart was in love with him, and wanted the feeling to be mutual. He had called in to Jaime’s radio station, hoping that he could get Jaime to take an interest in him. He wanted Jaime to pursue him, that way he would know for sure that Jaime felt the same way. And Jaime had taken an interest; he’d just done a poor job at showing it.

Hesitantly, Jaime reached a hand forward in an effort to get Bart to look up at him. “Por favor, no llores. Lo siento, I-”

Bart took a step back, angrily wiping his tears away with his fists. “No. I-it’s stupid. I built this idea of you up in my head, and it’s probably not who you are at all. I was just desperate and wanted you to like me back. And I know that me calling you every night was probably annoying and that you probably aren’t even into guys-”

Jaime surged forward, grabbing onto the other boy’s bicep with one hand and cupping his cheek with the other, and did something that surprised himself probably even more than it surprised Bart.

Bart froze, teary eyes wide in shock as Jaime’s lips smashed against his own. He was too surprised to react.

As soon as Jaime realized what he had done, he pulled back, blushing madly. Despite his embarrassment however, he couldn’t help the truth that fell from his lips.

“I am.” When Bart still looked confused, Jaime rushed to clarify. “Into guys. Into... you. I’m bisexual.” He raised a hand to nervously rub at the short raven hairs along the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly.

Bart seemed to snap out of his stupor. “You’re into me? I didn’t think you were interested. I thought you only came today because I was blackmailing you.”

Jaime’s awkward laugh turned amused. “If you think I showed up today because of your so-called ‘blackmail’, you need a new definition for the word.” He moved his hand from his neck, slipping it into his pocket to pull out his notebook. Jaime flipped it to the page where he had taken down all of the little clues Bart had given to him over the phone and turned the book around to show it to the track star. Bart’s green eyes widened slowly as he read over all of Jaime’s scrupulously written notes.

“I wrote down everything you told me about yourself.”

Bart’s gaze slowly ascended from the page, an awed look in his eyes. Hastily, Jaime closed the notebook and placed it back in his pocket. He shifted his weight from foot to foot in consideration before finally saying, “I’d like a chance to get to know you. I want to give us—” Jaime used a finger to gesture between himself and Bart— “a chance. If that’s... crash?” He tested out the word he’d heard Bart use during a few of their phone calls.

The redhead’s face lit up like a child’s after receiving a piece of candy. “Yeah! That’s totally crash! When are you free?”

“Uh-” Jaime pulled out his phone to check his calendar, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“Time to get this show on the road, Kiddos.” When Jaime looked up to see who the hand belonged to, he saw Bart’s father standing between them, his other hand grasping onto his son’s shoulder. “Who knows what you two would get up to if Mel and I left you alone any longer.” Don playfully shook his head, before turning the eyes Bart had inherited from him on his son. “Your mother and I were college sweethearts, too. We know what kind of things kids your age get up to.”

Both Bart and Jaime blushed at the implications.

“Dad!” Bart groaned in embarrassment.

Don chuckled, as if it were all in a day’s work embarrassing his son. He turned to Jaime. “We usually go out as a family after track meets to celebrate. Everyone’ll be there. It’s a good opportunity for Bart to introduce you to the family. If you’re up for going, Jaime?”

The raven-haired student shared a look with his boyfriend? friend? person-he-thought-was-very-attractive-but-wanted-to-get-to-know-a-little-better-before-dating? Bart shrugged.

Jaime felt put on the spot. He and Bart had just discussed the possibility of beginning a relationship, and now he was supposed to meet the ‘rents? Not that he hadn’t already, but that was beside the point. Going out for a meal with Bart’s parents, grandparents, cousin and who-knows-who-else, and having to pretend that he’s madly in love with someone he was just meeting for the first time today? This had the potential to kill any chances he and Bart had at actually beginning a real relationship.

“I’m sorry, I already have plans,” was what Jaime wanted to say. Instead, he said, “Sure. I’d love to get to meet your family, Cariño.”

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes-”

“-and his amazing boyfriend, Bart Allen-”

Jaime had to stifle an ‘oomph!’ as his boyfriend of three glorious months slung an arm around his neck and plopped down on his lap, leaning in close to the microphone so that he could be heard, too.

“-Next up we have ‘Flourescent Adolescence’ by Arctic Monkeys-”

“-And after that, ‘I Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’ from High School Musical!” Bart slammed a finger into the ‘play’ button, starting the next song in the queue, before swinging his leg around so he could straddle Jaime’s lap and drag him into a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Jaime had a pout on his lips. “Who let you in here?” Bart wasn’t supposed to be in the studio, especially when Jaime was live on the air.

The younger smirked deviously. “Cassie might have loned me her key so that I could pay my boyfriend a visit while he was working...”

Jaime shook his head. “Of course she did.”

Bart booped his nose with a fingertip. “Don’t act so put out. You know you looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head, trying to keep a poker face. “Nope. You just tainted my reputation by saying that we’re gonna play High School Musical songs voluntarily. How could I love someone who would pull such a slanderous act against me?”

Bart poked his nose again. “You looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head. His lips threatened to quirk up into a smile. His poker face was cracking. “Nope.”

Bart hovered his lips dangerously close to Jaime’s own. “Admit it, Babe. You love me more than anyone in the world.”

Jaime’s mask crumbled. “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “Te amo con todo mi corazón.” He pulled Bart that little inch forward to kiss him again.

Unfortunately the phone cut their loving moment shorter than either boy wanted. Jaime picked it up.

“Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

“Yeah, Jaime, it’s Gar. I’m glad to hear that you finally found yourself a good partner, but next time you might want to make sure your mic is off before making any declarations of love while you’re live.”

Crimson bloomed to life across the entirety of his face while Gar hung up on the other end of the line. Immediately, the radio host leaned forward and flicked off the switch to his microphone. Jaime buried his face in his hands.

“I hate you!” He directed at Bart in an embarrassed moan.

Bart chuckled. “Nah. You looooove me.”

Here it finally is @purple--waffles! I’m so sorry it took me so long! I’ve been slowly working on it since the day your request arrived in my asks. Life is crazy, and I haven’t had a whole lot of time to write recently, but I really wanted to finish this for you. My mind ran with the prompt, and even though it took me awhile, hopefully the length makes up for it??? Maybe? Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

#young justice #yj #bart allen #jaime reyes #kid flash #impulse #blue beetle #bluepulse #asks #answers #writing requests #sorry this took me a little while to finish

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pandemique · 4 years

Note

Hi hello I just wanna say I love your art, it’s really cute aaaa

I’ve been really wanting to try to doodle dnf because I care them so much and they make me so so happy but my brain rot is not strong enough and I’m nervous to post it if I do so basically do you have any advice for just doing it anyway? I don’t know if making a whole new blog is something I want to/should do

Also I wanna join the loving Demi anon gang so I’ll try to send more asks when I stop being Shy(TM)

-🍎🦜

nonnie thank u thats so sweet of u :’> i appreciate it a lot :’> yknow, u sent this when i was actually in massive doubt abt my art and my... personality?!? HAHA so yeah i definitely been there sis and i’m still there sometimes

firstly, this is actually a more common occurrence than people think! i’ve told this story a few times now to artists who felt exactly the same: when i first posted, i deleted my doodles within a minute (LOL) and it was actually sky georgeliker who reached out asking if he could reblog !! (sorry i dont shut up abt this sky HAHAHA u meant a lot to me even unknowingly <3) i think from that moment, i thought, if just one other person enjoyed what i post, i want to!! there’s literally no harm if no one does anyway bc this is a brainrot blog not a portfolio LMAO. and i am so so glad i did because i then definitely met more than one person lol i even met u ;)) people are so so kind here, and it really changed my perception on both my own art and art as a whole

nonnie i’ve never seen your art but i know for sure i would love to see it, and everyone would too :) there’s no such thing as bad art, and even then sharing will help u improve so much faster!! u can talk to me any time about it too, we’ll learn to improve and be kinder to our art together :>

@ making a new blog: i heard it’s more strategic that way! but only if u want to !! for me personally i separate my dnf blog and my mcyt & general blogs just bc i just like being organized, and bc for dnf in particular, i know a fair amount of people are uncomfy seeing the ship so i try my damnedest not to let non-dnfers find this blog lol. but u really don’t have to do this :o just think about what personally makes u happiest!

anyway here are the more practical tips below the cut ‼️ (finally BAHAHA sorry non)

u can take smaller steps and send art to friends first or to discord servers :> (404cord vouch if u wanna find the most supportive mf’s in the planet)

or u can send me ;D

recognize when u start thinking the bad thoughts! point it out and say “i’m thinking bad thoughts, i have to stop. why should i make myself feel bad? why should i think at all?? this is a brainrot blog??” (is this good advice i am questioning myself shgswjsh this is what i do lmaooo)

point out the things u LIKE from ur art, even really little things. pretend it’s a friend’s work, u’ll be surprised how much kinder u are to others’ creations! if u enjoy parts of it, someone else would enjoy it too and more

don’t be discouraged if u don’t get a lot of recognition or notes immediately, most of that is irrelevant to how actually good ur art is. a LOT of my fave artists have like <200 notes every post (and thats a lot!! its just that i wanna give 10000 lol). it doesn’t mean that the people who DO see it don’t love it

tbh i avoid looking at numbers at all like the plague bc it gives unnecessary pressure !! i have no idea how many followers i have lol (but i do check the tags bc (1) ppl r so supportive i wanna cry and (2) ppl r v thoughtful and sometimes gives interesting input to ur art :> but if it pressures u then u should avoid this too imo)

talk to other artists!! :>

DISCLAIMER, it’s completely okay to take ur time!! there’s no real need to post at all if ur uncomfy. that said, last tip off the top of my head is to consider just slamming that post button, it’s free and u can always delete or edit LMAOO enjoy doodling and blogging!!

#i almost feel kinda guilty answering this bc i feel unqualified since im still like that but ig then i could give more realistic advice :’)#i can yap away on this blog and irl but i am so terrified of like going out of tumblr and even talking on discord and stuff IDEK WHY #we’ll get through this together for sure #thanku for asking <3 #art advice #love u 🍎🦜 anon #im in 🍎🦜 nonnie loving gang ;)#unimportant but i find u saying ur brainrot isnt strong enough SO FUNNY HAHAHA truly my superpower: Chad Brainrot #yes brainrot def helps but i do actively block out all doubts and just go like ‘but....dnf 🥺’

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4lix · 4 years

Note

hello, i’m so happy you’re making a comeback. since you’re in the mood to write abt chan, may i request a best friends to lovers trope?

friends to lovers ★ bang chan ↳ gender-neutral. fluff.

okay so falling in love with ur best friend is a big L but its one u are more than willing to take for christopher bang

first things first, chan loves people with his whole mf heart.

whether its family, friends, or romantic interests

so when it comes down to him falling for his best friend? idk if he’d really realize it unless someone literally spelled it out for him, he’d just mistake his affection towards you as just the same kind of best friend love he has for ˙his group members

he’d never think much about the fact that most of his song lyrics these days were getting oddly too specific in detail about a certain someone

or how whenever he felt down his gut reaction was to call you up because the sound of your voice seemed to make everything better

or how he really really likes cuddling with you after long days of practice

and when you stop by the studio when he’s stuck on a track and just pull him to the couch to lay down for a while to get a break from staring at that damned screen, he’d instantly relax in your hold, sighing in content as your fingers twirled around his curls

and yeah his stomach is filled with butterflies and his ears are all red all that corny stuff but you’re his best friend and best friends cuddle sometimes too right?

best friends also feel the urge to kiss one another on the cheeks? perhaps sometimes they fantasize about what it would be like to kiss each other on the lips?

ok maybe not.

chan knew some of his thoughts were a bit odd. but you were really pretty so it was understandable. you were his safe place and the closest thing he had to home besides his members.

unbeknownst to him, you were honestly no better, a bit more aware of the fact that you could possibly be in love with the idiot but you were still in denial nonethless

whenever felix or hyunjin would tease you about your relationship with chan you’d feign disgust like he’s my best friend that’s weird! but your cheeks are red anyways and you’re kind of stuttering and hey is it hot in here or what-

when you had tough days chan would spam you with encouraging texts, a million obnoxious emojis, memes, just anything to make you smile and it always always worked, just the sight of a notification from chan always made you light up but that’s what best friends are for right?

friends make the world seem brighter, that’s all chan was to you, a friend.

and chan cared a lot about his friends, so it only made sense..

but unlike his other friends, you always got special treatment

he’d give you gifts for your friendship anniversary despite all the suggestive looks from his group members, kissed your forehead when bidding you goodbye and always sent you good morning and good night texts each and every single day

he’d go out of his way for you always and all of that just seemed normal, natural to him. because he loves with his whole heart and he doesn’t even realize it

he wouldn’t really come to terms with things until one of the members like screams at him to just stfu already because he won’t stop talking about you and he somehow makes everything about you and it’s driving them insane

they’d be like we get it you’re in love with y/n shut up already

and he’d just be a stuttering mess like !! no im not !! and yet his heart is racing in his chest and everyone looks at him with an unamused glare

changbin would be like “everything you’ve written these last few weeks are all about them-”

felix would chime in like “you killed your phone battery texting them all day and then used my phone to call them so you could talk for three hours straight.”

jisung is like “yeah and you bought like ten different gifts for your friendship anniversary but you gave me a set of socks for my birthday-”

huh wait maybe he is in love with you.

“those socks were knitted and really nice.” would be his only line of defense

the rest of the afternoon the members would just tease him about all his lovesick puppy habits that he was completely unaware of

like how his face lights up the moment you walk into the room

or how he can never go shopping without picking up something for you because hey y/n would look really cute in this!

and that he even mumbles your name sometimes when he’s sleeping lord help the boy

things kind of go to hell because now he can’t look at you without blushing and stuttering

he’s panicking because how the hell could he have fallen in love with his best friend who probably only sees him as a brother? if you liked him back surely you would’ve let him know by now, i mean if he was as obvious as his members said he was with his feelings there’s no way you weren’t aware of his infatuation with you.

but you were on the same boat really, to you, it seemed as though chan was affectionate with everyone, he smooched jeongin’s cheeks every now and then, and the socks he got for jisung’s birthday were kind of nice? you weren’t that special right? there’s no way chan could fall in love with someone like you anyways... right?

you knew him better than you knew yourself so his odd behaviour definitely did not go unnoticed even tho your sheer lack of brain cells prevented you from realizing why he was acting odd in the first place

the good morning and good night texts stopped, the spams of memes stopped, it was just radio silence for a few days and it was starting to freak you out but it was close to the deadline for the new album so he could just be stressed and you could just be overreacting

you figured you’d stop by the studio at like ass o’clock like always with some takeout for chan because you knew he never ate much when he pulled all nighters, you even threw in some of his favorite snacks and energy drinks, bringing your laptop with you to get some work done of your own hopefully

you did your signature knock on the door before entering but chan still jumped at the sight of you, weirdly startled by your presence, avoiding your eyes and only managing to cough and give you a tilt of a nod in greeting before gluing his eyes back to his computer screen

your first initial reaction is did i do something wrong :( and you intend to ask chan about it but he puts his headphones in and seems rather busy, you remind yourself again that he’s just focused on the new album he’d never purposefully ignore you.

you’ll ask him later, taking a seat on the couch, scrolling through social media mindlessly as your thoughts can’t seem to drift away from the boy across from you and how fluffy and soft his hair looks today.

after a good fifteen minutes pass, chan still hasn’t touched the food you brought which leaves you no choice but to annoy him to ensure he takes proper care of himself. calling his name multiple times to no avail, you tap the space bar, pausing the track before removing his headphones.

“channie, you can ignore me if you want to but i won’t let you ignore getting your vitamins and nutrients. i know you didn’t eat dinner. so eat.” he’s still not looking at you, just nods, clearing his throat awkwardly before turning over towards the takeout you brought for him and taking a seat at the couch.

you follow behind him, sitting right beside him. just a week ago you were here with chan laying on your chest, watching tiktoks of cats but now here you were, in the same spot but this time chan was silent, closed off. the complete opposite to his usual warm and bubbly demeanor.

he didn’t even bother to deny the fact that he was ignoring you, he just ate silently and fear starts to consume you because maybe chan really was upset with you?

before you figured he was probably just stressed and overly focused on the track he was working on but now it seems obvious he’s blatantly ignoring you, not even sparing a thank you for the takeout which was really unlike him. he always thanked you for taking care of him with tight hugs and sloppy kisses on your forehead. now he didn’t even look at you.

half of you was agitated that he was giving you the silent treatment instead of just being honest with you about whatever was bothering him but the other half of you really wanted to smooch his chubby cheeks filled with rice because wow he looked really really cute.

as annoyed with him as you were, you couldn’t help but appreciate his bareface, it was you favorite look of all, when he didn’t look like a famous idol, instead just a regular boy with blemishes and unruly hair in grey sweats and a hoodie.

a grain of rice hugged the corner of his lip, you fought back the urge to kiss it away. he was so unfairly attractive it made you want to punch him

you lean forward, reaching out to him to wipe the stray food away but he evades your touch, leaving your hand raised awkwardly out in front of you in rejection. now he didn’t even want you to touch him?

“did i do something wrong?” you didn’t realize how hurt you were by his silence, by his disgust of you, how he felt like a stranger these days. you kicked yourself inwardly for sounding so broken but the tone of voice seemed to strike something in chan because he finally met eyes with you for the first time in what felt like forever.

“w-what no not at a-all what makes you think that?”

“chan you’ve ignored all my texts for the last three days. you haven’t talked to me in nearly a week and now you can’t even spare a hello when i come in? you’re even avoiding my touch like i have the plague or something.” guilt washes over him immediately and he puts down the plate of food and looks at you with those brown eyes that are all sad and regretful and you forgive him before he even opens his mouth because you’re just that helplessly in love with the idiot

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to, really, i just have a lot on my mind right now and i just...” he turns to look away again but you place your hand to his chin, turning him forward to meet eyes with you again, he doesn’t shy away from your touch this time

“chan if i said something or did something wrong that bothered you, y’know you can always talk to me right?” you said earnestly, cupping his cheek in your hand, he leaned into your touch, humming gently. relief enraptured your heart, along with warmth

“you didn’t do anything wrong, i promise.” his eyes don’t leave yours, nor does his voice waver, so you believe him

“then why are you ignoring me?”

“because...” he tries to get the words out but his brain is going a mile a minute and you’re really close to him. you’re turned to face him, sitting criss crossed, knees bumping against his, he can feel your body warmth and it’s kind of sending him into overdrive

“because?” you urge him further, unable to help your lips from curling downwards in worry. he’s silent still, biting his bottom lip anxiously and you consider giving up for a moment but then he pulls your hand away from his cheek, instead holding it tight in his.

“i realized something. the guys, they made me realize some things.” he starts, eyes flittering past each and every single one of your features, admiring them silently to himself. how did it take him so long to realize he was in love with you? you were beautiful, his best friend, his whole heart, his muse.

earlier, his eyes were glued to the screen because he was rereading the words he’s written over the last few weeks and he couldn’t quite believe he wrote lyrics that were literally entirely about you and he had no idea, just assumed he had some new rush of creativity or something.

of course he was in love with you, he always been in love with you.

“yeah?” you rub your thumb over his hand slowly in an attempt to ease some of his anxieties. whatever it was he needed to tell you, it was clearly taking a toll on him, he was fidgeting, sighing over in over again and shaking his head trying to clear his thoughts. you felt a bit bad, perhaps you were prying too much?

“look i just–– i know we’re best friends, and the last thing i want to do is jeopardize that so if what im about to say makes you uncomfortable or something j-just forget it ever happened okay?” unknowingly, you hold in you breath, fear for his next words knocking the wind out of you.

“i... i like you. like like you, and- i don’t know how to deal with it so i’ve just been avoiding you and i’m sorry- wait why are you laughing?” his eyebrows are all furrowed and his cheeks are bright red and he’s squeezing your hand in confusion and you just look at him and just die of laughter

why were you laughing? you weren’t sure. maybe it was relief? joy? just pure utter love for the idiot in front of you?

“channie-” you attempt, but your laughter still has control over your lungs so you just cling to the boy helplessly, looking up at him with so much happiness in your eyes that he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful that maybe this laughter is good laughter?

“why are you laughing! i just confessed to you, put my heart out on the line and your response is laughter?” he’s smiling despite the confused tone of his voice, nudging you playfully but you pull him into you, shoving your face in the crook of his neck trying your hardest to get out the last of your giggles. with one last deep sigh, you prepare yourself to finally give him a proper response

“i’m sorry for laughing channie i’m just really happy. and relieved.” you finally pull away from him, resting your forehead against his, cupping his face once again in your hands.

“i like you too chan, i’ve liked you for a really really long time.”

the smile that lights up his face is one you’ll never forget, his eyes practically disappear, his dimples protruding through those precious cheeks of his and you can’t help the small laugh in happiness at the sight

“thank god i was actually losing my mind you know, changbin and jisung have been making fun of me all week, clowning me for being a lovesick puppy.”

“is that why they’ve been wiggling their eyebrows whenever i walk by-”

“unfortunately yes.”

“chan you should’ve just told me!”

“yeah well! i thought you saw me as like a brother or something!”

“what- no! i’ve literally been in love with you since the moment we met you idiot-”

“yeah well i’ve been writing songs about you for the last month, songs that you helped with and you didn’t notice a thing-”

at that you just :O bc realization hits u like a train n yea wait a minute he was pretty obvious..

he just gets all red again and then you smile at him and he’s smiling back at you and with the dopiest grin on his face he’s like

“can i kiss u..” and u dont bother to reply you just grab his cheeks and connect your lips with his

the kiss is kind of a mess tho bc you’re both just so ridiculously happy that you can’t stop smiling so yea its not a proper kiss but its filled with giggles and each time you pull away chan only leans forward to peck you again and again because he cant seem to get enough really and he’s just so elated that he can finally do this as many times as he wants

in conclusion chan loml<3

requests are open! :) ↳ notes: tysm for all the kind welcome back msgs ily all sm omg <3 i ended up combining two requests as they were a bit similar i hope thats okay hehe <3 also sry if this is sloppy this is my first post in a long time & im kind of rusty .. whew

#bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan requests #stray kids

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zamoimagines · 4 years

Text

HOWARD HOUSE (Collaboration Project w/ @ladypaulsvn)

Episode 1: Pilot

Word Count: 3,631

Summary: Billie Dean Howard and Audrey Tindall both are very successful television stars. What people may not know is that these two actually live together... with seven other women. What happens when they make the decision to create a reality tv show about their home life? Find out and tune into Howard House, a brand new series about mayhem, love, and unconventionality.

A/N: hello everyone! this is the first collaborative project that I’ve ever been apart of! @ladypaulsvn and I had an idea in April that turned into an entire series. This is basically Keeping Up With the Kardashians but if it was all Sarah’s characters. We’re incredibly proud of this, and we’ve worked extremely hard on this first chapter. If you want more, let us know because we have quite a few plans for this series! We really hope you enjoy!

“Are we rolling?” Billie muttered as a crew member finished fixing up her hair.

“We’re rolling!”

Audrey shooed away her makeup artist before flashing a perfect smile.

The last of the crew members made their way off the screen as Billie made eye contact with the camera.

“I’m Billie Dean Howard,”

“And I’m Audrey Tindall!” the Brit sang out.

“You may know us from popular TV shows such as Devil’s Night and My Roanoke Nightmare.” Billie added in a warm tone.

“We thought it would be interesting to do a collaborative series that was a little different from the dark paranormal themes we’ve worked on in the past.”

“That’s right, Audrey. We wanted to give our fans something a little more lighthearted!”

“So when Billie suggested we do a reality show type series of our home life, I hopped right on board! Because quite frankly we do not have a normal home.”

Billie laughed light heartedly at her comment. “That is extremely correct. We thought we would give insight into who we are outside of our respective careers and include the amazing eclectic group of women we share our home with.”

“We hope you join us in this premiere episode of Howard House.”

“Cut!”

The screen fades to black. The show starts with a simple shot of the Howard House. Inside, Billie Dean Howard is holding the very first personal interview.

“So, just introduce yourself for the audience, yeah?”

“Right, right.” Billie sat down on the couch in front of the cameras.

“As many of you may know, I’m Billie Dean Howard. I’m a psychic medium, and I’ve been working with the dead for decades now. Never expected to make a career out of it. Let alone a whole show!” She laughs off her comment with the members of the crew.

“All jokes aside, I’m incredibly thankful for my career. If it wasn’t for the screen, I wouldn’t have met all the girls… I’ll always be grateful for that. Audrey came to me with the idea for this show, and I have to admit, I was a little nervous. They’ve all become like a family to me. A very complicated family to say the least. The others liked the idea so much despite my fears, so I finally decided it was a good idea.”

Billie cracked a smile at the thought.

“If it wasn’t for Audrey, the show wouldn’t have even aired.”

The camera cuts to a new shot of Audrey Tindall explaining her side of the story.

“Oh, yeah! It was my idea and everything. Billie’s nice like that. She’ll go along with most things as long as it doesn’t ruin her image. I was genuinely surprised she said yes to this by those standards!” Audrey light heartedly laughed, glancing over the camera to see Billie rolling her eyes.

“I can always make everyone go home, you know. Shows over!” Billie’s voice can be heard off screen.

“Oh, shut up Billie.” Audrey waves her away.

The interview continued on as normal. There were a few quick banters exchanged between Audrey and Billie, who stayed off screen. Eventually, Billie left the room to leave Audrey to talk about what the rest of the show would be like.

“Basically, It’s going to show our everyday lives here with all the girls. How we live. Who we really are.” Audrey was always one for the dramatics.

“This ‘Pilot’ episode, if you will, is just an introduction. A little taste of what’s to come!” Her hands added flare to her words.

As Audrey continued explaining the simple mechanics of the show, Ally slipped in through the front door. She gave the actress a small wave.

Audrey’s eyes immediately lit up as she called her girlfriend over. “Sweetheart, hello! Come here!” She quickly stood from her chair and grabbed Ally’s hand, guiding her in front of the camera.

“This is my girlfriend, Ally! Isn’t she simply darling?” Audrey smiled widely as she sat Ally on her lap. Ally wasn’t too keen on being on camera yet.

“Oh yeah, hi! I forgot this was today.” Ally swiped her hair behind her ear, not knowing what to say.

Audrey nearly squealed at seeing her girlfriend so shy.

“You are just bloody adorable.” She gazed back up at the camera as Ally’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red.

“She’s a bit timid about being filmed. I’m used to a crew following me everywhere, but Ally isn’t quite adjusted to it yet.”

The next shot is Ally sitting in the spot Audrey was in, now all alone. She has an awkward expression on her face as if she’s not sure what to talk about.

“Just tell us a little bit about yourself. You’re a politician, right?”

Ally nodded slightly to the camera man.

“I am. Before I got into politics, I owned a restaurant. Still do. I’ve just been really focused on my campaign.”

“And how long have you been with Audrey?”

“U-uh, about two years now.”

“How’d you guys meet?”

“Well, as I said before, I own a restaurant downtown and at that point I was on my own with Oz, my son. I had just divorced my ex wife. I’d been putting all my time into my work. That’s when famous actress Audrey Tindall came into my life. She’d never been in the restaurant before. She was instantly a flirty little thing. When she left, I found her number scrawled on her receipt and well… the rest is history.” Ally��s smile was giant as she explained the story, reminiscing on the past years of her life she had spent falling for the Brit.

“How did you end up here in the house with the rest of the girls?”

“I won’t get too personal, but after a few months of seeing Audrey and how well she got along with Oz, I started making frequent trips to this humble abode. I admit that it was quite a shock meeting everyone for the first time. Though they all took so kindly to Oz and I. We spent more nights here than at our apartment, so Billie invited us to permanently move in. I obviously couldn’t deny her offer. We’ve been here for the last two years.” Ally honestly loved telling this story.

“These lovely ladies couldn’t have come at a better time in my life. I’m so thankful to have them, especially Audrey. They’re all truly one of a kind. I’m so lucky to have such good role models for Oz and people who genuinely care for him. He loves it here, even with the constant bickering.” Ally laughed as she made fun of the banter that constantly rang through the house.

As Ally answered more questions about life in the house and her professions, a snarky blonde with frizzy hair was waiting very impatiently in the other room.

“Do you guys want to see a picture of Oz? I have a couple on my phone-“ Ally began.

“Oh come ON” an annoyed voice rang out.

As Ally began to pull out her cell, the blonde barged into the room. She was definitely not as put together as the others. The woman had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and was wearing a tattered old dress. Her makeup was completely smudged. She didn’t seem camera ready, but she was definitely acting like she was.

“Ally, seriously, you’ve taken way too long.” She growled. In an instant, she pushed Ally off of her seat. The politician fell onto the floor offscreen with a thud while this new woman crossed her legs.

“Sal, what the hell?!” Ally shouted.

Sally glanced down at her as she took her cigarette between her fingers.

“You were hogging the f%*#$ing camera.”

“So that gives you a right to just physically assault people?”

As Ally stood up, there was a long silence between the two women. The camera was focused on Sally, who looked obviously remorseful for acting on a whim. Her free hand reached out to hold Ally’s.

“Look, I’m sorry. I was anxious.”

Ally remained silent.

“It won’t happen again… I promise. I’m really sorry.”

“Well, you should be.”

“I’ll make it up to you. We’ll go for ice cream later, okay?”

Another silence.

“Okay.” Ally muttered.

“Okay.” Sally replied as the brunette exited the room. She leaned back in her seat and turned her ear toward the door.

“I love you, Ally!” she called out.

There was no answer. Sally shrugged.

“She’ll be fine.” She began, “I’ve done worse.”

“Uh… Okay. You wanna go ahead and introduce yourself?”

A huge grin appeared on Sally’s face.

“I thought you’d never ask!” She exclaimed as she took a drag of her cancer stick.

“The name’s Sally. Sally McKenna. I’m unemployed, BUT I happen to be a social media influencer,” She winked to the camera. “Follow me on instagram, sallythatgirl.”

“You’re a social media influencer, and you only have instagram?”

“Oh god no! I’ve got twitter, youtube, instagram, facebook, you name it! And I just started a tik tok account.” She had a proud look on her face.

“No, but I used to be a musician in the 90’s. That was a bust. Turned to drugs, that was also a bust. I lived in a shit hole for a loooong time. Until Cordelia came along.” She smirked to herself, “Don’t tell her I said this, but… Cordelia saved me. She came by my place looking for one of her friends and we happened to get into conversation. I told her not to pity me. She has such a kind heart that the bitch took me home with her the same day. I’ve been here ever since.”

Sally ashes her cigarette in one of the crew member’s coffee cups nearby.

“Anyway, enough with the sappy shit. I’m really excited to start this show. I have a really good feeling that I’m gonna be a fan favorite.”

“I-I wasn’t finished with that cup of coffee-”

“Sure you were, John! It was empty.” Sally replied. When she glanced back into the cup, she pursed her lips.

“.... My bad. I’ll… Here, I’ll have someone get you some more- DELIA!” She stood up and left the room to go find the Supreme.

“I F&%ED UP, I NEED YOUR HELP!”

After Sally left, a new shot panned on Cordelia Goode. She was already sitting down and completely poised. She handed John a new cup of coffee.

“Sorry about Sally. She can be a bit of a handful.”

“It’s alright. Thank you for making this.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Cordelia replied with a warm smile.

“So, you were the first one to move in with Billie?”

“Yes, I was. A few years back, she did an episode for her show at Robichaux’s Academy where I taught. At the time, the place was extremely overcrowded. I obviously had too much on my plate. My confidant, Zoe, had been pushing me to go out and find my own place. I had to live somewhere that wasn’t surrounded by screaming girls. When Billie was done filming, we ended up becoming good friends. I was stressed and ended up telling her about Zoe’s idea. She invited me to move in with her, and so I decided to take the chance. Zoe was proud of me and I became a better Supreme because of my decision.”

“What’s it like living here but still fulfilling your responsibilities as Supreme?”

“At first it was challenging to get used to. I hated being away from my girls, but wanted to give myself the chance to adjust. After a few months, I quite enjoyed having my own space and traveling between the two. Billie was really accepting of my responsibilities as Supreme. She never complained of my late hours. Around that time she was usually away filming, so we didn’t see much of each other anyway. It’s a little different now that we have more people living here. I still enjoy it all the same with our little family we’ve created.”

“What’s your schedule like nowadays?”

“Oh, pretty similar! I’ll go back and forth to the Academy to check on my girls and occasionally teach classes when Zoe or Mallory is sick.”

“What about life here?”

“That’s never the same. It’s a constant changing schedule here. Sometimes Billie or Audrey are out filming god knows where. Or Ally has campaigning to do so we help watch Oz. Lana’s always out chasing some new story whenever she gets the chance... Bette and Dot stay home usually. The same with Wilhemina ever since she started working from home; she likes structure and order. Sally is the complete opposite. She stays at home more often than not but is always trying to stir up trouble, just for the hell of it. We all have different schedules but we help each other out when we can. We really are a family.”

“That’s beautiful. Speaking of Ms. Winters, do you know if she’s available for an interview?”

Cordelia chuckled to yourself. “If you can catch her, you can most definitely talk to her.”

Lana is next at the camera. She looks completely composed; she was meant for the camera.

“Miss Winters, thank you for talking with us on such a short notice.”

“Anything for television.” the brunette replied with a smirk.

“What has life been like since the attack?”

There was a sort of tenseness to her position.

“Jumping right in with Bloody Face… I’m fairing fine. He got what he deserved and I’m safe now. Not to mention, my career has been soaring and I’ve finally surrounded myself with a group of people that really care about my well being. Things are so lighthearted around here. I didn’t know I needed to be here, but I can see why Cordelia invited me to stay.”

“You’re a very brave woman, Miss Winters.”

“Thank you, John. I’m more than ready to move on from that situation though.”

“Of course. My bad… So, you worked with Billie on the Briarcliffe series, correct?”

“Yes! That’s where it all began actually.” She had the proudest look on her face. “The Briarcliffe series was one of the best moments of my career. Billie wanted to help me expose all of the awful things that happened there, and we charged in there demanding the truth.”

“And it’s true that Briarcliffe was shut down shortly after the series aired?”

“Correct. Billie and I single handedly took down the most horrific place in America. I’m so grateful for her collaboration. I’m not sure I could have done it without her.”

Lana crossed her legs gracefully, holding her right knee with clasped hands.

“After that, I knew I was safe. It was still incredibly hard to go home alone. Post traumatic stress disorder can do a number on a person” She bit her lower lip, “I spent so many sleepless nights paranoid and utterly terrified of nothing. It grew harder and harder to be by myself, and it was very obvious to everyone that I worked with, including Billie. That’s when she told me to come stay at her commune.”

“Commune?”

“Well, that’s what this place isn’t it?” Lana replied with a laugh. “I was skeptical at first. Living with eight strangers I’ve never met in my life sounded like an absolute nightmare. Though, Billie promised me it would be worth my while. I stayed one night and fell in love with everyone that lives here. It was so nice to not have to be alone, and this house has really made me feel significantly better as far as safety goes. You’re never alone around here, but I don’t mind that. In fact, it makes me feel extremely comfortable.”

“Are you close with any of the girls in particular? Some of the others were discussing how you often can be found with Cordelia Goode when you are home.”

The reporter’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink.

“I-I mean- Yes, Cordelia and I are great friends. Though, I’ve taken all of them under my wing. Sally’s chaotic, though she’s really just a child deep down that’s craving some sort of attention. Audrey and Ally are both sweethearts. Cordelia is… absolutely wonderful.” Her cheeks grew even brighter in color. “I do have a particular attachment to Bette and Dot, though.”

“Is that because you saved them from Briarcliffe?”

“Indeed, it is. Aren’t you good at researching for an interview? I'm thoroughly impressed, John.”

“Thank you, Miss Winters. Would you care to tell us how you came to the Tattler’s rescue?”

“Perhaps I should let them tell that story.”

Conjoined twins are sitting in front of the camera, rather nervous. One is greeting everyone with a big grin and the other looks suspicious of her surroundings.

“I promise you that we aren’t going to harm you. We’ve heard many wonderful things about the two of you.”

“Oh I know that! Dot just doesn’t trust anyone.” Bette giggled at the camera man. Dot silently glared at her sister then turned back to the camera.

“That’s not true. I’m just far more cautious than my sister.” Dot explained.

“Guarded, maybe.” Bette said under her breath, her smile faltering momentarily.

“Okay… Well how about some questions? Would you be okay with that?”

Both girls nodded.

“I’ve asked nearly everyone this same question. How did you girls arrive here at the house?”

“Oh… well, it was Lana really.” Dot started. “She did a documentary about Briarcliff and we watched it.” Bette began to add. “Our parents were going to send us there… and after seeing the documentary we confronted them about their intentions.” Bette looked to the floor.

“They kicked us out, essentially.” Dot stated with a cross face. “Instead of wallowing in our tears, we packed up and left for LA to find Lana and thank her for keeping us from the awful fate we could’ve had at Briarcliff.” Dot explained.

Bette looked up again at this point. “Oh yes! I want to tell this next part. It wasn’t very hard to find her; we ran into her on the streets of LA! It was magical really. We thanked her and instead of just going about her business, she stayed and asked us questions about what happened and why we were there instead of back home in Florida. After a wonderful conversation with her, we said our goodbyes and went to leave. But she stopped us! We were confused at first. Then she offered us a place to stay since we were on our own. Dot declined, as she doesn’t trust people, but I accepted and convinced Dot to agree as well.” Bette happily told their tale.

“It’s true I was apprehensive, but I’m glad we’re here now. Maybe listening to Bette is a good idea… sometimes.” Dot added and Bette smiled satisfactorily.

“What a moving story ladies. You’re obviously both very different personalities. How do you get on with the rest of the women in the house?”

“We mostly stay to ourselves, really.” Bette answered and Dot nodded.

“Though I enjoy a conversation or two with Wilhemina.” Dot said bashfully.

“Oh they’re awfully annoying sometimes. Always gossiping about the others. I think you forget that I can hear your thoughts Dot.” Bette laughed as she looked at her sister.

Dot consequently glared in her direction. “Shut up.”

“Um, Ow!”

“What did I say before all of this? Don’t say stuff like that Bette!”

“Oh it’s not my fault you’re so reserved. It’s an interview for goodness sake Dot! They ask questions!”

The girls were interrupted by the man behind the camera. “Okay ladies… How about we continue this another time?”

“Sounds wonderful, thank you John!” Bette stated and Dot agreed. “I’d rather not do this ever again.” The girls quickly left the room, still bickering to one another. The camera panned to a redheaded woman dressed in purple from head to toe. Her posture was rather rigid and she was gripping a wooden cane. From outside, the crew could hear Bette and Dot trying to talk to her.

“Mina, it’s your turn!” Bette sung out sweetly.

“Bette, darling, I’m reading.” the woman, Mina, muttered in a disinterested tone.

“But it’s for the tv show! You told Billie you’d do an interview, remember?”

Mina glanced up from her book with her brow cocked.

“What tv show?” she asked.

Bette pointed in the direction of the camera crew and waved to them when she saw that they were still recording. Mina looked in that direction before rolling her eyes.

“I thought Billie said I wouldn’t have to talk?”

“That’s what she told me too-” Dot began.

“Well of course you have to talk, silly! It ain’t every day that you get to be on television!” Bette giggled, “Go on!”

“Bette, I’d rather not.”

“Wilhelmina Venable, you will stop acting like such an introvert and you will go do your interview just like everyone else has done!”

There was a long pause of silence as Mina made eye contact with Dot.

“D… Did you do one?” she asked quietly.

“Unfortunately.” Dot replied.

Wilhelmina groaned before standing up. Leaning upon the cane, she slowly sauntered over to the doorway to the room where the interviews were being held. She looked directly into the camera.

“I’m not going to bother even stepping into the room. All you need to know is that my name is Wilhelmina Venable and I live here. Good day.”

She walked in the opposite direction as Bette and Dot followed her down the hallway.

“Mina that was NOT an interview!” Bette called out.

“Yes it was!” Wilhelmina shouted back.

The camera crew all gazed at each other. A few members shrugged as others began to start cleaning up their equipment.

“I think that’s a wrap on the pilot!”

#howard house #collab fic #we hope you guys like it! let us know what you think #billie dean howard #audrey tindall #ally mayfair richards #sally mckenna #cordelia goode #lana winters #bette and dot tattler #bette tattler #dot tattler #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #ahs imagine #ahs fic #american horror story imagine #american horror story fic

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cosmosrival · 4 years

Note

Rico besides Kama what do you think about the other indian servants?????

AHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS GOING TO GET SOOOO LONG!!!! i have a different view of the indo fam as a whole. i call them the indo fam but i mean the found family trope!!!! theyre like a group of college students sharing a dorm if that makes sense, since their servant selves are obviously different from their initial myths/human vessels!!!

OK SO. RECENTLY, i have an oomf that found books about arjuna that summarize his exploits in the mahabharata(I DONT HAVE THE STRENGTH TO READ IT ALL IM SO SORRY) and also talk about him in a more philosphical manner such as his states of mind during each event etc and i’ve been meaning to read said book because im genuinely interested in arjuna now!!! and i’d like to know more about this indo prince because from what i’ve seen, he is portrayed in a rather bad light(?) in FGO which i find extremely !!!!!!!!!!! and incrdibley !!!!!!! strange !!!!!!! the mahabharata’s conflicts can be put in a mostly grey area where there’s no good nor bad, its not black and white. so seeing arjuna get bashed because of the way his conflict with karna was written is... hm. let’s say that im REALLY starting to understand arjuna fans that dislike seeing him get mischaracterized so much. OTHER THAN THAT, his design is adorable, his travel outfit is my favourite because he deserves to relax and have some fun!!! fgo making him a chuuni is cute and his VAs little moans are cute cute cute!!!!!!!!!!! (mash grabs my shoulder and forces me to sit down) i think that arjuna deserves better and im really happy to see him have fun in his travel costume voicelines. i think we should take arjun on a date!!! he’s a great lover, we’d have the best time!! OH ALSO, kama seeing him as the student council president in their interlude makes me SOOOOOOO HAPPY its unreal, i think it fits him very very well, the seitokaichou who was elected because of everyone’s hopes and recommended by teachers because he’s suuuch a good student but because of that, the pressure to be good is constantly towering over his head and everytime he looks out the window he wishes he could ditch class and skip a day just because he felt like going to the arcade and be a bad student.......just this once........i think hes very very cute...... i want him to cook for me. HAVE YO U READ HIS BOND 4 VOICELINE ?mmmmmggg i want him to get embarrassed everytime i praise him for having such a muscular waistline. AUG

ANEWAYS i also have quite the thoughts about karna, his characterization in the game is linked to arjuna’s and thats fine but i think that forgetting how much of a little sassy bastard he can get was a mistake! did you know that in apocrypha’s german dub on netflix, when jeanne calls his name like “You’re Karna, aren’t you ? The son of the Indian Sun God !” HES LIKE “So ?” AND THAT WAS SOOOO BITCHY OF HIM, i think that karna is a good boy in fgo but the fact that he was such a fighty old man in the mahabharata shouldnt be forgotten and is a charm trait. I MEAN ???? HE THREW HANDS WITH AN 18 YEAR OLD(ARJUN) WHILE BEIN LIKE... THIRTY TWO. WHATS WITH THIS ANNOYING OLD MAN !!!!! knowing these little facts about him made me like him so much more actually !! i think karna being so nice is adorable!! but the little bitchy energy u can find in his voicelines is also very charming!! i think karna looking at me emotionless as i ask him to lend me his notes for the nth time that week and then saying “...Mn.” when i thank him is cute!!! his voiceline towards things he dislikes is interesting to me. karna seeming aloof and mean bc he doesnt know how to communicate but is actually nice underneath...... hey... thats a little delinquentcore........ i wouldnt say yankii but hes like... hes like... u know hes the handsome quiet one of the group of yankiis... u know the one...? hey where are you going

ganesha is also a character im deeply interested in but i havent played CCC so i dont know that many details about jinako herself !! my brain goes HMMMMMM it seems lord ganesha is trans in fgo ! (since kama used to be a male god originally as well!!) ganesha uses all pronouns!!! and ganesha is also special to me because they share similar traits with kama when it comes to their characterization AND mischaracterizations. ganesha isnt JUST jinako. theres a part of a god in the servant mix!!! and jinako HERSELF is actually a pretty sad character imo. the whole otaku/neet thing is obviously a facade and her true wish being that she wants to redo her whole life is also proof of how much she hates what shes become, yet at the same time, she doesnt know what else she could do. but anyways, i prefer looking at servants from a lore POV so i think that ganesha should still be considered a god and be adressed as such!! i like seeing people portray ganesha as jinako but i prefer it when a certain lavish more godly side of them is put forward. a side of jinako that managed to move on a little bit if that makes sense ? that got more serious. and became someone else entierly despite sharing similarities. needless to say their bond with karna makes me happy since he shows them respect as you should towards a god!! its a bit different from their bond in CCC... like they matured somewhat!! anyway ganesha is the one who taught everyone else in the indo fam about video games and technology and i will NEVER shut up.

ashwatthama..... MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM %_’(’ç_”’è_ç(è_’”545656455456545453£¨¨µ¨µMµ¨++°=)=)°+ goodness. jesus christ on earth. my love story with him makes me so embarrassed. when he got revealed i instantly fell in love with him despite knowing JACK SHIT ABOUT HIM but since i was the only one in my friend group who was hardcore into fgo at the time, i kept my love for him to myself and just... (looks away)(i drop my wallet full of picturses of him) quietly adored his everything in silence. WELL, ree having an intense crush on yankii type characters isnt new, its been my favourite trope for ages (gyarus go in hand with them!!) and im still very attached to it so thats what made me love him in the first place!!!! BUT THEN. I GOT INTO HIS MAHABHARATAN LORE. And OHHHHHHHHH BABY.......... (im twirling my hair) so theres this 7ft tall war criminal..........<3<33<3(mash leans in and informs me that the convention of geneva didnt exist at the time) SO THERES THIS 7 FTTALL IMMORTALMAN.......<233 gOD he makes me absolutely CRAZY9909840385%£%%£%%µ%µ%µ the love i have for this character is immense and whenever im sad i remember that pako exists and has a tablet and can draw and i suddenly feel so much better. ok im gonna stop horny posting a little bit. but hes my wife. AND WHAT I LOVE ABOUT HIS PORTRAYAL IN FGO IS THAT, they actually made him a good boy despite his initial roughness and misdeeds ???!!! HELLO?? ashwatthama wishing for a redemption ark is my favourite thing and his righteousness that was born because of his regrets is a very interesting drivepoint to me !!! hes a gorgeous character and im buying a ticket plane as we speak right now so i can go find him in northern india. i’ll find him. GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME !!!!!GET OFF ME !!!

miss lakshimi makes me very sad! because every female servant in the indo fam is an already known face. (... would sita count.) and lakshi being a jeanneface is a waste. well, she’s still very pretty and her lore is also quite interesting!! i havent looked into it fully yet but i think she should be kissed on the mouth. her bad luck makes me slip on a banana peel whenevr i get close to her to kiss her and i hit my head on the pavement and pass away-

parvati is on a tough spot for me atm. i genuinely love thinking of her as the way the indian goddess herself is portrayed because thats where the fun lies for me in her character. especially when shes involved with other indian servants, thats a given!! i would like to see parvati grow, suffer and heal. because branding her as an “all-knowing mom” is easy, but every single parent makes mistakes if you follow that logic. also, since shes the sakura servant “thats closest to her initial personality”, she’s got some of the most Repulsive fans ive Ever witnessed in fandom spaces and lets say that im trying to work my way out of this hellhole and find things to like about parvati without the fandom’s influence. needless to say, im going to keep looking into her mythos and her lore by myself at my own pace and keep doing my own thing in my little corner.

rama shouldve been a jock. THE RAMAYANA IS OLDER THAN THE MAHABHARATA, WHY IS.....Hrm well him being summoned as his baby version gives me hope for a future rama alt perhaps??? but i think that he shouldve been a total jock and he shouldve been huge with a huge red lion-like mane for his hair and a teethy grin and big biceps and intense love for his wife. SPEAKING OF SITA, her charm point is her purity but i wish.... that their artist still hadnt drawn them like That, im not a fan of lily servants and i think purity = being young is a bit of an annoying excuse!!! rama and sita looking similar is because of their shared history which is fine but... rolls my eyes............. rama shouldve been 6ft tall and sita shouldve been a milf to match...... anyways i doubt ravana would be added as a servant but i’d love to have a ramayana centric event!! where all indo servants have their own lore centric role to play!!! oh thatd be a dream.... but i have learned to not expect much from a fanservice game so im jus gonna draw my own stuff! (strikes a pose!) (mashu claps!)

#answered #long post #SORRY FOR THE BIG SCROLL.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 6 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: hi hello hey. how did this happen? I actually wrote this way quicker than I expected. thank u so much for ur patience during the rewrites fam, hopefully i won’t have to do any more!!!! so so so hope u like the new chapter :)))))

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

11th October 2020

As it turns out, Vanessa meets Monique and Akeria for lunch earlier than she’d expected. Okay, it’s at her flat instead of a cafe and it’s dinner instead of lunch, the three of them all easily agreeing to go back to Vanessa’s after the pro dance rehearsal on Sunday evening. Akeria had wanted to go to The Ivy but Vanessa had decided to make pernil in the slow cooker that morning after a facetime with her Tia had made her particularly homesick, and there was enough for the three of them anyway. Monique had been glad of the fact that they would be safe from any rogue journalists at Vanessa’s, and Vanessa had laughed and objected to the idea that any journalists would be interested in what was going on in their lives anyway.

Then again, that hadn’t appeared to be the case last year when everything kicked off with-

“V!” Akeria shouts over to her and interrupts her from the dreamlike state in which she’s fluffing up the rice. “You got any more wine?”

Vanessa laughs at her friend as she tips the pan over three bowls consecutively. “You’re rehearsin’ tomorrow morning, calm the fuck down.”

“Aw, let a bitch live! I did good last night, I deserve to celebrate.”

Vanessa thinks about how Akeria ended up fourth on the leaderboard with Asia and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, rub it in, girl. It’s fourth place, not Vicks.”

“Stop bein’ salty,” Akeria scolds her as Vanessa carries their dinner over to the huge sofa they’ve chosen to sit on instead of her tiny dining table. “You had a couple bum weeks, so what? This week’ll be the one.”

Vanessa wants to point out that it was really only one bum week and the other she was undermarked for, but she doesn’t. She lets it drop and instead turns her attention to Monique. “Right, bitch, let’s break bread and spill tea. What’s goin’ on?”

As Monique lets out a heavy sigh while she stabs at her food, Akeria claps her hands together and threatens to spill her dinner. “Yes! Thank God you said it, ‘cause I didn’t want to seem rude, but that’s the reason we’re all here, right?”

“God, I beg you both shut up,” Monique groans. “Okay so…me and Monet. You know we did that Waltz, right? And it was very…romantic, very intense.”

Vanessa and Akeria bob their heads like nodding dogs in response. Monique gives another heavy sigh and Vanessa is on the edge of her seat. “Well, it was like…our last full run before we finished up on Thursday. An’ we were both very much like…well, final run, let’s just give it all our energy. And it just got so intense, like, all the eye contact and the moments where we were all like…close, the bit where she picks me up and spins me-”

“Oh my God…did you kiss?” Akeria blurts out excitedly. Monique rubs both her temples with her hands.

“Akeria,” she raises her eyebrows. “We had sex.”

Vanessa lets out a scream. Akeria almost spills the entire bowl of pernil over herself as she reacts, waving her arms about so much Vanessa thinks she might give herself whiplash. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…WHAT?!”

“You cannot tell a single fucking soul on God’s green earth!” Monique groans, and Vanessa still isn’t sure if she’s over the information she’s just been given.

“HOW?!” Vanessa screeches out, ignoring Monique’s plea but promising her internally.

“It was my own damn fault-”

“FAULT?! How is this in any way a negative situation?” Akeria teases her friend with a shit-eating grin on her face.

Monique pouts in self-pity as she carries on with her sentence. “I kissed her. At the very end. I just got so caught up in everything, Jesus, I don’t know.”

“Tell me it was like the musical where there’s all the fuckin’ horn section and everything goin’ off in the background,” Vanessa butts in, remembering when she saw The Bodyguard on the West End last year. Monique knows the exact bit in I Have Nothing she’s talking about, because she nods her head.

“It was exactly that part.”

Vanessa lets out a cry identical to Akeria’s. She’s picturing the scene in her head and it sounds like the most romantic kiss that’s ever happened to anyone outside of a fictional setting. “M’nique, that’s adorable, oh my God.”

“What happened after? Well, she obviously liked it,” Akeria shrugs, and Vanessa splutters a laugh. Monique looks vaguely like a babysitter that has to deal with a pair of five year old twins.

“She just kissed me back before I could even break away out of fuckin’ embarrassment. She was just holding me and kissing me for what seemed like ages…and then when I had to get air I was panicking and apologising and she…oh my God. She asked me if she could take me home.”

Akeria raises her eyebrows. “Damn. I have got flutters.”

“So you went back to hers? OH my God. You’ve been to Monet X Change’s house,” Vanessa gasps, impressed. Akeria gives a snort of disbelief, turns to look at her.

“She’s been inside her fuckin’ pussy, never mind her house!!”

They both howl, and Monique rolls her eyes before apparently admitting to herself that what Akeria had said was funny after all and giggling.

Akeria leans forward with intrigue. “And did you…have a nice time?”

Monique now can’t wipe the smile off her face as she puts both hands to her cheeks, an attempt to cover her blush. “Yes. We both did. It was a very nice time.”

“So what’s the problem?” Akeria asks her, blasé and black and white as ever. Monique gives a sigh of exasperation.

“Because we’ve not…spoken about it, we’ve not addressed it!”

“It didn’t seem awkward last night, you did a great job!” Vanessa frowns, spearing a chunk of pulled pork. Monique lets out a tiny helpless whine.

“Yeah, that’s because…” she begins, then trails off. Vanessa knows what she’s going to say already, but Monique finishes her sentence before she can properly connect the dots. “We did it two more times before the actual dance.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Akeria shouts through a mouthful of dinner. “This ain’t fair! How come a God-fearing, good lil’ Christian girl like you can get laid three times in the space of three days an’ I get nothing?”

“Jeez Keeks that’s so far off the mark. Christian? Uh-huh. Good? No way,” Vanessa teases. Monique, for perhaps the twelfth time this evening, looks as if she’s severely regretting telling her friends anything at all, so Vanessa decides to be helpful. “When’d you bang again, then? Thursday night was the first. You stay over?”

“Yeah. We did it again the next morning and then in the studio on Friday.”

“IN the studio!” Akeria screeches. Vanessa wonders if she should apologise to her neighbours the next day. She, herself, has had sex quieter than Akeria’s screeching. “You are nasty as fuck!”

Monique has the good grace to attempt to look embarrassed before a proud smile takes over. “It was Monet’s idea. She told me she couldn’t keep her hands off me.”

“Well she’s nasty too. Y’all are well suited,” Akeria shrugs, and the three of them laugh.

“So why’re you pressed?” Vanessa asks her friend. She draws from her own experience as she follows up. “You in your feelings?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” Monique gives an anguished cry, dramatic as ever. “I just want to get to know her a lil’ more. I don’t want her to think I just wanna sleep with her because she’s Monet X Change, y’know? Like sure, I have a crush on her, but it’s not like I ever had sleep-with-my-dream-girl on my bucket list.”

“Maybe on your fuck-it list,” Akeria supplies unhelpfully.

“Why don’t you ask her out?” Vanessa shrugs. It seems so simple when she’s giving it as advice but if anyone had suggested that as a solution to her feelings for Brooke she would’ve laughed them all the way to Oxford Circus.

Monique gives Vanessa a long-suffering stare. “We both know it ain’t that simple, V.”

“Well, why don’t you tell her what you’ve just told us?”

This time Monique pulls a face. “Well, maybe. I don’t know. Monet don’t seem like the type to catch feelings, though.”

“You don’t seem like the type to catch feelings. Shit, you don’t catch feelings,” Akeria reminds her, Vanessa giving a laugh as she remembers every time Monique has had to pry girls off of her at a bar.

“Shut up. To be honest I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’m glad to have vented about it,” Monique shrugs in resignation, takes a sip of her wine. “Anyway Kiki, what’s the story with Miss Asia? Thought you were gonna sweep her off her feet an’ show her your Hitachi or whatever line usually works for you.”

Vanessa snorts as Akeria gives a smirk. “I wish. Nah, we get along great but we’re honestly just better as friends. It’s almost like all the hours spent rehearsing with our bodies pressed up against each other kinda ruined the magic a lil’. She’s great though. Could set her up with you, though, Vanj?”

In any other context, Vanessa would have a smart remark. However, the thought of being set up with someone else when Brooke Lynn seems to fill her every waking thought these days isn’t a desirable one, so she opens her mouth. “Well, uh…I mean, obviously Asia’s cute, but I’m not really…y’know-”

“Oh my God,” Monique cuts in, trying and failing to suppress a laugh. “You’re crushin’ on Brooke Lynn. You are! Oh my God, Kiki, look at that blush.”

Vanessa frantically shakes her head, willing the blood to flow away from her face. “No! No, it ain’t a crush. Shut up.”

“You’ve gone so red. Jeez. I’d hate to see the colour you go when you are in your feelings, then,” Akeria laughs.

“She is so in her feelings! C’mon, deny it, bitch. Try an’ deny it.”

“Jesus Christ will you both shut up!” Vanessa exhales with exasperation, now highly regretting the amount she’d wound Monique up. “Fine! Fine…it’s not a crush, but I just find the girl attractive, an’ it’s nice gettin’ to know her, is all.”

“That’s literally a crush,” Akeria stares incredulously at her. Vanessa rolls her eyes to the ceiling and aquiesces.

“…fine, maybe it’s a crush, god damn.”

The two girls opposite her explode. Vanessa stuffs more pernil and rice into her mouth with a feeling of resignation.

“Don’t tell me you two’ve been bangin’ mid-rehearsals as well?”

Vanessa breathes a laugh. “Stop it. No, just a couple hugs in the corridor after our dances. We went out for lunch together last week.”

Monique gasps. “You went on a date?”

“That’s not a date, Mo, shut up.”

“It is a date! You took a girl you like out for lunch, how’s that not a date?”

“Because she wasn’t aware it was a date. And neither was I! It was honestly the furthest thing from a date. It was a fuckin’…raisin.”

The three girls giggle, and in the conversational lull something occurs to Vanessa. “The only other thing is, uh…well, both weeks we did our dance for the judges, after we finished, she, uh…she kissed me.”

There’s another bomb of screaming from the girls that detonates in Vanessa’s living room. World War Two hasn’t got shit on Akeria and Monique.

“What?!”

Vanessa shrugs. “I mean it ain’t a massive fuckin’ makeout sesh, obviously! It’s just a lil’ cheek kiss, top-of-the-head kiss, that sorta thing. You can see her doin’ it, the camera got it both times.”

(There’s a fan account on Instagram dedicated to her and Brooke’s Strictly journey, and it’s posted the footage of the kiss Brooke gave her last night. Vanessa will not admit to the girls that she has watched it too many times for it to be explained away as normal.)

“So she likes you back,” Akeria states, as if it’s a fact and not something Vanessa’s been wondering about at random intervals throughout the day every day for the past week or so.

“We don’t know that.”

Akeria’s face turns scheming. She’s clearly got an idea. “Well, why don’t you choreograph a big sexy rhumba or something where you gotta grind up on her an’ get all nasty an’ shit? That’ll speed things along.”

Monique points her fork at Akeria in agreement. “Yes! ‘Cuz Jan and Jackie did that in, like, week 1, and they’re already fuckin’.”

Vanessa screws her face up. “Jan and Jackie ain’t sleeping with each other, shut up.”

“Oh my God, girl, I beg you buy a pair of glasses,” Akeria rolls her eyes, causing Monique to let out a laugh.

“Yeah, they absolutely are.”

Vanessa shoves another mouthful of dinner in. She’s hungry, and it doesn’t help when she’s trying to talk and eat. “Well, Strictly curse aside, it’s our Jive week this week, so that’s operation sexy dance out the window for at least another seven days.”

“Ugh. That’s annoyin’,” Akeria consoles her. After that, talk immediately turns to movie week and dances, and the conversation has moved on.

But it’s nice now that she’s admitted her crush on Brooke Lynn to Akeria and Monique. She’s got her girls to vent to when Brooke gives her a smile that comes with an extra added twinkle in her eye that sets Vanessa’s insides on fire, or to squeal to when Brooke brings her a coffee from the cafe they’d visited for brunch last week “just because”. She can’t take her eye off the prize too much though, even in the excitement of movie week. They’re doing their Jive to Runaway Baby from the Madagascar franchise (Brooke insists it’s niche and Vanessa insists it’s not) where they’re dressed as animals breaking out of huge cage props and “running away”. It’s not going to be as iconic as Plastique and Scarlet’s Dirty Dancing-themed Salsa, nor will it be as hot as Crystal and Gigi’s Rhumba (to License to Kill, no less), but it’s theirs, and it’s fun, and it’s hilarious watching Brooke get to grips with the insane amount of kicks needed for a Jive to be a Jive.

“My feet feel like they’re going to fall off,” she groans, lying flat on the floor after a particularly intense Wednesday rehearsal. Vanessa hides a laugh behind her hands, sneakily pulls out her phone to film her.

“What?”

“I said my feet feel like they’re about to fall off,” Brooke repeats louder, for the unknown benefit of the camera.

“You ain’t much of a soldier, are you?” Vanessa scoffs affectionately. Brooke sits up on her elbows, noticing Vanessa’s phone.

“Are you filming this? You’re filming this,” Brooke asks and then confirms without Vanessa even having to say anything. “Well to anyone that follows Vanessa, I’d just like to say that this is human exploitation and you should not be supporting this.”

Vanessa howls with laughter, tries to ignore how good her name sounds in Brooke’s mouth. “She loves me really.”

“I love her really,” Brooke rolls her eyes, and Vanessa’s heart jumps at the words even though they’re part of a joke.

She stops filming, posts the video to her feed and leaves it as they keep practising. When they stop for lunch and they’re sitting scrolling, Vanessa’s eyes widen at the comment Monique has left, her friend taking her stirring to new levels:

moheart: you two are so cute omg branjie 5 ever xxxxx

As Vanessa’s contemplating using the cables that line the floors of Elstree Studios as garotting wire when she sees Monique at the show on Saturday, she taps on the comment’s likes (it’s got 85 so far). Her heart stops when she sees the familiar blue tick of bhytes at the top of the list. Vanessa darts her eyes Brooke’s way as if her face gives anything away, and of course it doesn’t. Brooke’s scrolling casually as if she hadn’t liked a thing, and it manages to mess even more with Vanessa’s head. Vanessa enjoys the feeling though, this experience of having a crush on a cute girl again. She is so used to healing (she’s had to do it for the best part of a year now), and it’s nice to have butterflies in her stomach instead of an endless churning ocean.

Her feelings for Brooke aren’t helped by Cheryl and her ridiculous quiz on It Takes Two on Thursday night after their rehearsal. Okay, Vanessa supposes- every couple has done one, so it’s not exactly as if they’re being singled out. But when they finish their usual interview (how they felt regarding last week’s comments, how rehearsals are going, how they feel about the week ahead) and Cheryl pulls out two sets of glittery pink paddles (one saying me and the other saying her) with an excited grin on her face, Vanessa does a bad job of masking her horror.

“Oh my God. Cheryl, what is this?”

“Welcome to…Mrs and Mrs!” Cheryl announces with a small flourish, and the film crew give a cheer. Brooke snorts beside her, just as dumbfounded. Cheryl continues. “Okay, Brooke and Vanessa, I’m going to ask you both a series of questions and you’ll need to hold up your paddle to show me who you think is the best fit as the answer- you, or your partner. Every time you both give me the same answer, you get a point. For example, if I asked you…who sweats the most in rehearsals?”

Vanessa rushes to hold up the paddle that says her and as soon as she’s done it she cranes her neck to look at the one Brooke’s held up. She squeals when she sees me staring back at her, a blush appearing on Brooke’s face as she giggles.

“I sweat! I’m very sweaty! I never wear grey in rehearsals!” Brooke pouts in anguish, and Vanessa gives a laugh. She leans into her in a show of sympathy, trying to ignore the way her pulse races as she catches the scent of her perfume. It’s not the Flash that she wears at the weekends, but it’s still just as intoxicating.

“Not sure we needed that much detail, love, but you get the idea! You’d get a point, because you both said Brooke,” Cheryl pokes fun at Brooke, before her gaze snaps back to the camera, all charisma and TV-presenter-smile. “Okay, your score to beat is five, that was set by Gigi and Crystal on Monday’s show and none of the other girls have beaten it so far! Ladies- are you ready?”

Vanessa raises her eyebrows, tries not to look at Brooke who she knows will be smiling like an idiot. “As I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“Okay. Let’s play…Mrs and Mrs!” Cheryl announces dramatically, and immediately holds up a set of glittery cards that the questions are written on. “Question one- who’s the most patient?”

Vanessa laughs and she can feel Brooke being set off beside her. She’s held up her, and Vanessa’s held up me.

“She’s so laid-back she’s horizontal!” Brooke laughs, and Vanessa swats her. She melts a little as Brooke’s gaze turns affectionate. “It’s why she’s such a good teacher. I’ve said it before, but I’m really lucky.”

Cheryl moves on before Vanessa can react to the compliment. “Who’s the best dancer?”

Vanessa hears Brooke scoff. Sure enough, Brooke has once again held up the her paddle, and Vanessa has voted for herself too. Brooke laughs as she looks at Vanessa’s paddles. “Of course it’s her! Has any celebrity voted for themself?!”

“Willam and Yvie both did!” Cheryl giggles, and Brooke rolls her eyes so much that her body tilts back with them. “Okay, next question- who is the better cook?”

Vanessa holds up me, and Brooke’s held up her. It definitely shouldn’t make Vanessa feel as good as it does.

“Brooke is like the kinda person who would struggle to keep a cactus alive, never mind her own damn self,” Vanessa laughs, and Brooke laughs along, agreeing rather than being offended.

“And Vanessa should go on Celebrity Masterchef one year. I swear to God.”

Vanessa looks at Brooke and smiles, happy for the compliment. She’s sure she’s not imagining that Brooke leans into her a tiny bit.

“Three points so far ladies, you’re on a roll!” Cheryl comments, impressed. “Who is more of a perfectionist?”

Vanessa fumbles with the paddles in her haste to hold up her. Brooke has indeed also voted for herself.

“She will make, like, one mistake and she’ll make us run the entire thing through until she gets it right,” Vanessa explains, Brooke giggling beside her in embarrassment. “I thought it was meant to be me that worked her hard, not the other way!”

Cheryl laughs from her interviewer’s chair. She reaches the next card and her eyebrows fly up her face. “Ooh, one for your massive egos here- who’s the most attractive?”

Vanessa’s heart gives a little jump and her brain thinks almost a hundred thoughts at once. She could play things off and vote for herself (because ultimately, she’s well aware of the fact she’s cute, she’s got a mirror), but part of her wants to see how Brooke will react to the compliment. Deciding all this in the space of about two seconds, Vanessa holds up the her paddle. To her surprise and poorly-concealed joy, Brooke is also holding up the her paddle. Vanessa’s trying to hide her smile and Brooke’s expression suggests she’s doing the same.

“I mean, I’m not gonna be big-headed,” Vanessa plays it off. Cheryl is looking at the both of them with a little scheming smile on her face.

“Well, nice to see that the first time you drop a point is because you’re both just too busy trying to compliment each other, in’t that sweet!” she grins. Vanessa wishes she had one of Cheryl’s cards to fan the blush away from her face. As Cheryl moves on to her next card, her mouth drops open. “Oh, right, this one’s a good ‘un. Who is most likely to have a crush on someone in the cast?”

Fuck. Vanessa can feel Brooke giving similar amounts of hesitation beside her, and the two of them share an awkward glance and a laugh. Without really knowing what she’s doing, Vanessa slowly holds up the paddle that says me. She’s almost scared to look at Brooke’s, but she leans forward anyway. Staring back at her from the paddle is the exact same word as the one she herself had held up- Brooke has also said me.

Cheryl gives a reaction much as if she’s reporting on breaking world news. “Ooh, now that’s interesting! You’ve both said yourselves. Any reason? Do we actually have any crushes flying around the studio?”

Vanessa holds a tight, awkward grimace on her face, hoping she can avoid the question. She almost feels her soul leave her body when Brooke crosses her legs and sits straight. “You might think that, I couldn’t possibly comment.”

As Cheryl appears to stave off an aneurism, Vanessa cuts in with the best way of diffusing the situation she could manage. “Aw, you know I gotta crush on you, Cheryl, stop pretendin’ like you don’t know!”

Cheryl howls with laughter, turns to the camera and appeals to her wife who’s presumably sitting at home. “Blu, babe, don’t listen to her!”

Vanessa joins in with the laughter, suddenly willing the interview to be over.

“Okay Brooke and Vanessa, at the end of Mrs and Mrs, you have scored…four!”

The production team claps them, and Brooke turns to Vanessa to hi-five her. Vanessa accepts with a laugh. Cheryl shuffles her cards and turns to the camera.

“Well they might not’ve won Mrs and Mrs but they’re still gonna be dancing on Saturday- Brooke and Vanessa, everybody!”

There’s another clap, and their interview is finished. Thank God.

It’s only when they’re walking back outside afterwards after a little bit of small-talk about their plans for the rest of the evening that Brooke quirks a bashful smile at her. “So, uh…you think you’re more likely to get a crush on someone in the cast than me? Does this mean you’ve got one on somebody?”

Vanessa suddenly feels as if she might vomit up her own heart. She plays it off, narrows her eyes at Brooke. “Alright, Cheryl, damn! I thought the interview was over. Jeez.”

Brooke gives a small laugh. They’re walking close, and every time Brooke’s body brushes against hers Vanessa swears she sees sparks flying off them both. “Just asking. I said myself, remember?”

Vanessa already feels ever so slightly giddy, so she takes the risk. She cocks her head at Brooke as she walks. “Alright, since you wanna talk about crushes so much. Who’ve you gotta crush on?”

“I asked first,” Brooke shrugs easily, stopping as they both reach the doors to the exit. Vanessa lets out an exasperated laugh.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, we are full-grown adult women.”

Brooke splutters a giggle as she leans on the door and opens it, the freezing cold air smacking Vanessa across the face. They both leave the building and Brooke stands still, her face wearing a hopeful expression. The wind is whipping her long blonde hair over her shoulders.

Damn, she looks so beautiful.

“So you’re not telling, then?” Brooke smirks. Vanessa thinks about it. She thinks about what Brooke’s honest to God reaction would be if she actually turned around and said yeah, I’ve got a crush on you. The thought of doing so almost makes her laugh.

“Well I’m not a fifteen year old high schooler, so no. Sorry to disappoint,” Vanessa smirks back at her. Maybe this is flirting. She’s not even mad about it. Thinking again, she cocks her head curiously as she shoves her hands in the pockets of her huge hoodie that she’s pulled over her interview outfit. “You gonna tell me?”

Brooke’s smile is still there, still cheeky. “No.”

“But you’ve got one.”

“I never said that,” Brooke shrugs easily. For a moment they’re both standing biting back smiles at each other, and Vanessa feels as if she’s caught in some form of stalemate. It’s Brooke that breaks it first, because of course it is, and she brushes some hair out of her face as she shrugs at Vanessa again. “Well, have a good night, anyway! See you tomorrow, bright and early.”

“Yeah, you too. Get home safe,” Vanessa says, the two of them sharing the usual friendly wave that comes with their goodbye. In spite of herself, Vanessa watches Brooke turn on her heel and walk in the opposite direction to her. Just as she’s about to start making her own way home, Brooke pauses, turning to look back over her shoulder.

The pair of them share one last bashful smile before they make their way back home and it feels as if Vanessa floats home on a cloud.

Saturday rolls around quickly, and Brooke has managed to transform herself from having feet made of concrete blocks to someone with featherlight ankles, so Vanessa is confident that they’ll score well tonight. She’s not really got scoring or the judges at the front of her mind, though, because movie week is entirely too much fun. It feels as if she’s at Universal studios as she walks through costume and hair and makeup, everyone dressed up in variations of movie characters. The best by far, though, is Jaida and Yvie’s. Any part of Jaida that isn’t clad in a grey leotard and skirt is painted entirely in grey body paint, with her hands in black gloves. Her hair has been expertly twirled into two long “ears” on the top of her head, and makeup has painted a blotted white stripe down the centre of her face. Yvie is wearing an orange and black striped morph suit, on top of which costume have given her a little red and white striped waistcoat with a buckle, a red cape, and, of course, a pair of boots to dance in.

And her face is painted like a cat.

“I’m going to see that in my nightmares this week,” Scarlet pipes up from across the green room, looking every inch the iconic Baby in her pink dress and glittery silver heels.

“More like your dreams,” Yvie winks at her, and Scarlet laughs, presumably to offset the pink blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah Scarlet, don’t you want her pussy?” Willam joins in from where she’s getting her hair swept into a low ponytail. Her costume is nowhere near as extravagant, but it’s classy nonetheless- a fitted tuxedo suit for her stint as a spy as part of her and Phi Phi’s dance to 4 Minutes. Courtney laughs from her position sitting on the dressing table beside her. Even though she and Blair were voted out last week, Courtney’s role as a pro means she’s still part of the show’s group dances. It’s something that Vanessa thinks Willam is particularly grateful for (she’s seen the hand-holding when they think no one is looking). Courtney starts singing Livin’ La Vida Loca under her breath absent-mindedly.

“Hey, listen, at least neither of us are Shrek,” Jaida consoles Yvie, who doesn’t look as if she needs much consoling.

“You guys, Courtney’s right there,” Willam pipes up again, the girls laughing as Courtney swipes at her playfully. Willam flinches in her chair, much to the irritation of the hair stylist.

The costumes aren’t all ridiculous, though. There’s a murmur of admiration when Gigi and Crystal emerge from wardrobe in skin-tight floor-length velvet gowns (one red, one black), each with a huge slit up the side. Akeria whispers something to Vanessa about Crystal stealing her idea of a big sexy rhumba, and Vanessa tries to laugh from her current position in the hairstylist’s chair but the two thick plaits they’re weaving her mane of brown locks into makes it difficult. She can’t help but let out a gasp when Jan and Jackie emerge from their costume fitting, though, and neither can the rest of the girls: Jackie is dressed in black leggings and a red waistcoat and tails, covered in shining gold brocade and black detailing. It’s Jan, though, who takes Vanessa’s breath away. She looks like a muted version of Lily James’ Cinderella in a gorgeous, floaty powder blue dress which hits her calves, little dimantés and tiny butterflies stitched into the light fabric.

“Janet, holy hell! It’s Strictly, this ain’t fashion week!” Jaida cries, sticking her tongue out at the end to let her friend know she’s joking. Jan gives a shy laugh, sweeps her immaculately curled blonde hair over her shoulders.

“Yeah, all you’re missing is a tiara,” Scarlet agrees enthusiastically.

“Hey, I thought we were meant to be showing off our celebrities!” Akeria pipes up with a raised eyebrow. Before Jan can reply, Jackie takes her hand and smiles.

“I’m happy to let this one steal the show for this week. She looks gorgeous, she deserves to be in the spotlight,” she shrugs. Vanessa doesn’t miss the look Jan gives her partner or the way she squeezes Jackie’s hand. She thinks back to what Monique had said at dinner on Sunday. Maybe something is happening between those two after all.

“Vanessa! You’re up please, fitting,” one of the costume girls calls out for her, and Vanessa obediently dashes towards the room in question. Brooke’s been squirrelled away in her own dressing room having to do some prep work for her filming the next morning, so when Vanessa sees her in her own costume, it’s not what she expects. She can’t find the words to describe how Brooke looks.

“Don’t…say…anything,” Brooke warns her, but it’s too late- the laugh is already coming out of Vanessa’s body before she can stop it, and it turns into a howl when Brooke grabs her tail- her stripy, white and black tail- and gives a twirl. She is dressed entirely as a lemur.

It’s not long until Brooke is spluttering a laugh herself. “Don’t tell me this isn’t the hottest you’ve ever seen me look.”

Vanessa’s cheeks hurt from laughing. “I don’t think I can keep my hands off you, boo, I’m gonna be honest.”

“Well luckily you’ll be wearing the exact same thing in about five minutes,” Brooke quips back at her, and Vanessa pouts and groans. She doesn’t really mind though. Mad, extravagant costumes are a staple of Strictly movie week, and she’s just happy she gets to experience it with a partner this year.

Soon enough the show is starting, and Vanessa watches the first dance from the Divinatorium with her hand entwined in Brooke’s. Neither of them mention the contact- it’s apparently just another secret. That and both of their crushes. Willam and Phi Phi are first and it seems as if Willam’s technique is a little better after her somewhat dismal scores in the weeks prior. Monique’s told Vanessa she’s seen Willam getting extra lessons from Courtney during her lunch breaks, so she suspects that’s what is making the difference. It seems to have paid off, and they get a score of twenty five altogether. After they see that dance, they can’t stay to watch Aja and Farrah as they’re on third, so while Farrah lives her Disney princess fantasy waltzing to Someday My Prince Will Come, Vanessa is marking the steps with Brooke backstage.

“This is gonna be a good week. I can feel it,” Brooke smiles at her, and Vanessa believes it. They’ve coped way better with the Jive than they did with the Paso, so she’s eager to show the judges what they can really do. Farrah and Aja get their critiques and their scores (a disappointing 17), and just like that, Brooke and Vanessa’s VT is playing and their massive cages are being rolled out onto the stage. There’s a distance between them in their two separate props, but Vanessa knows that Brooke’s feeling confident and so, in turn, does she.

“Dancing the Jive…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

The electric guitar slices through the quiet of the room and with it sends an electric shock through Vanessa’s veins as she starts to dance. Her eyes are focussed on the audience, ever the professional, but she hopes Brooke is coping as well as she’s done in rehearsals. As soon as it comes to the part of the music where they “break down” the door of their cages and land into hold with each other, Vanessa can’t help it when the fake performance smile on her face turns into a real one as she faces Brooke (whose face, like hers, is painted like a lemur, complete with bright yellow eyeshadow). Brooke’s face is concentrating hard, and Vanessa knows she’s nailing all the steps as they reach the section where they figure-eight their ankles then change and do the same with their other foot.

“See I ain’t try’na hurt you, baby, no, no, no, I just wanna work you, baby…”

There’s not a whole lot of the dance spent in hold as it’s essentially a test of their synchronicity, Vanessa doing the rightfootflick, leftfootflick, flick, flick, flick, PIVOT and hoping Brooke’s doing the same beside her. But it’s fast and it’s fun and she knows her choreo is good and fuck it, they’re both dressed as lemurs, so they’ve got a fighting chance of doing a decent job this week. Brooke takes her hand and spins her round all while doing the most complex footwork Vanessa’s taught anyone before, and her face is showing it. Vanessa knows she’ll get pulled up for letting her concentration show, but everything else, technically, has gone really well so far, which is just as well as Laganja is standing up to take in every single inch of the footwork.

“Your poor little heart will end up alone, ‘cause God knows I’m a rolling stone, so you better run, run, runaway, runaway baby…”

On cue, Brooke slides herself down on the floor then jumps up, and Vanessa puts her hand on her shoulder right on the final beat. The audience erupts, the clapping envelops them, and Vanessa can’t help but freak out a little. This is the first dance they’ve done where she really feels they completely nailed every single part of it, and she’s punching the air as Brooke picks her up by her waist, spinning her round and round on the ballroom floor. When she puts her down, Brooke pulls her into another hug, and Vanessa can feel the kiss she plants on the top of her head. It’s strong and insistent and Vanessa wishes it had been pressed to her lips, but she supposes she can’t wish for everything all at once.

Vanessa barely even takes in Michelle’s interview with Brooke, she’s simply too happy. As Michelle asks the judges what they thought, Vanessa hopes and prays their comments will reflect the dance they completed.

And they do.

Vanessa listens to them all in a happy haze- the words “immaculate footwork”, “light and precise”, “turned a corner”, and “breakthrough” all pop like fireworks in her head, and she can’t help but squeeze Brooke’s hand every time the judges give them a new compliment.

“Just one very little thing,” Shangela says at the end of her critiques. “You were concentrating so hard on that, and rightly so because it’s hard! But I’d love to see more of the chemistry you have with Vanessa, because you’ve got about two minutes to tell a story out there, and to see you both connecting with each other would be lovely!”

Vanessa tries to suppress a smile at her comments, and Brooke nods affirmingly at Shangela’s words. The incredible feedback is ringing in her ears so much that she hardly knows what she even says to Divina when they both run up to the Divinatorium after their dance is done, and when it pans to the judges for their scores Vanessa can feel her own hand unbearably sweaty in Brooke’s.

“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”

Vanessa sees the paddle that she holds up and screams. “Seven!”

She’s so busy squealing and hugging Brooke in her delight that she almost misses the next few scores.

“Kennedy Davenport.”

“Eight!”

Vanessa’s jaw drops so far open she’s momentarily scared she’s dislocated it. This changes everything. This is night and day to the scores they’ve had previously.

“Shangela Wadely.”

“Seven!”

“Laganja Estranja.”

“Eight!”

Vanessa can hear the other couples cheering and clapping for them both and she can feel a bunch of hands patting her on the back, but all she can focus on is Brooke’s heartbeat through her chest. She is euphoric. There’s no feeling like it.

“That’s a score of thirty!” Divina tells them, and when Vanessa pulls away she can see that Brooke is crying happy tears. The sight almost makes her want to start crying too. Divina pulls a sympathetic face. “Brooke, you’re clearly happy!”

“I am! I’ve just said from the start that I don’t want to let Vanessa down, and finally we’ve done really really well!” she sniffs, and Vanessa pouts and squeezes her waist. Thirty. Their score was thirty. Thirty out of forty. They’ve only dropped ten marks and it’s week three.

This is good.

As Divina carries on interviewing them both, Vanessa feels her concentration drift away. She’s remembering Shangela’s comments about chemistry. Next week is their Salsa week. Vanessa remembers her conversation with Akeria, and operation sexy dance, and in that moment she decides to make it her mission for the week to show the judges just how much chemistry she and Brooke have.

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