#i forgot how freaking bizarre this book is

[ajarofpickledtears]

rewatching KrimsonRogue's review of Empress Theresa

and...

the first page, apparently

[mongoose-bite]

This isn't that relevant but I just never remember to take screenshots. Paladin moment! And you can see Wyll's lil face in the background if you squint. I anticipate a playthrough where we both have dogshit strength being pretty funny.

Did Faye go party after talking to Halsin? Of course she didn't. My girl will not rest while innocents need saving, and I did just fast travel out without saving that stupid bard...

I don't know what it is with me and names in this game; I saw Volo and was like 'heh, same name as that freak in Soul Calibur' and completely forgot Volo's Guide to Monsters until I saw him again.

The party. Oooh god I was not prepared for the party. Neither was Faye. Laz'ael kinda had dibs, and couldn't be un-dibbed so it was basically a night of awkwardly rejecting people. Excruciating for both of us. Notable exceptions: Wyll, who did not ask. I thought Faye might go for him, but they are a bit too similar. He's basically a brother from another mother and she loves him as such. Halsin, who was very kind but firm when Faye wondered if she could get to know him. okay.jpg

And. Of course. Asterion. Who let her know he was absolutely desperate to fuck, but anyone but her. Ew. Listen, this entire camp is crawling with horny morons, and if you weren't such a sour and condescending gremlin you could have your pick of them, but instead you're having a sneer-off with the one person you can't stand who is going to go and get laid regardless.

I actually kind of love how antagonistic they are, and I'm almost tempted to turn the ship around just to watch him eat. his. words. But I couldn't do that to Faye, who basically regards him like a tired paramedic outside a club at 3am on a Sunday asking again what it is he's taken. Sadly, he's her job.

Anyway. Laz'ael. You don't have to get all dommy to get head, you know? She's a paladin getting on her knees and giving is in her nature. I don't think Faye regrets it, but she finds Laz'ael a bit exhausting in several senses and doesn't want a rematch either, or to talk about it. Asterion probably sensed that. Dick.

I still had this cursed book sitting in my inventory, cause I am the stupid, and had forgotten right click opened an Attack option in the menu and I fruitlessly kept trying to target it with the general attack option. I did eventually work it out.

Now I had noticed Auntie Ethel had the fey creature type, but I thought nothing of it, and Faye, sweetheart that she is, wasn't going to scare some old lady by telling her about the tadpole, so I only headed to the swamp out of a desire to fill in the map before leaving the zone. Also, a friend had informed me I could improve things slightly with Asterion by 'baa-ing' at redcaps, a bizarre piece of advice that made no sense til I got there. Frankly it's the first thing about him that's been remotely charming.

Anyway, we got as far as the door to the hag's lair, and I thought we'd more or less hit an instant boss fight, and I and my companions were so close to level 5. That extra attack was gonna do so much for me. So I turned around and scoured the map for anything that might offer scraps of exp. Took all day. Rested.

Gale offered a magic lesson. Faye had a great time til it all got a bit too serious and she broke it off, getting the sad and lonely reaction, and she's feeling bad about it cause he's hot and smart, and good-hearted. But. It did seem a bit too smooth, and he did also kick things off with a picture of his ex, and then a demonstration of how good said ex makes him feel. If she even is an ex. I'm not cucking a fucking goddess. Faye's wis score is higher than that.

Dyce would love everyone in this party though. He really would. I need to know if an nonocule is possible.

Back to Faye. Rather than face her problems, she decided she'd rather go to a horrible swamp and fight a hag with a guy who deeply dislikes her. It went fine. Overall, by the time we were done in the swamp, Asterion had gone from barely tolerating her to grudgingly tolerating her. As she herself says, 'I've got a long road ahead of me.'

[holodeckprotocols]

animorphs book 26 (the attack) #thoughts

ooh, i owned this one! and LOVED it as a kid. i recognized the cover right away. very very excited to read it again. 

okay forget what i said in my last post. a few minutes into this one and i can already tell it's written by KA applegate instead of someone else, lol. it's just got that je ne sais animorphs. 

i love erek so i got very excited when the ellimist ominously said he'd need 7 candidates for his challenge. it's partially my love of robots and also the limitations of his character. i really like seeing the books play with just how much he can really help. 

PLANET OF THE QUARKS

listen i know marco says vaguely or outright misogynist stuff all the time but he's just so bad at it that i can't be mad at him. he's like a little kid playing dress-up

i love the premise of this one. i LOVE the return of the mysterious crayak (deeply, viscerally freaky to me as a child) and the exploration into the greater animorphs world -- all the strange, vividly-drawn alien species and their different motivations and cultures. KA applegate does not fuck around with forehead aliens. freaks ONLY

genuinely laughing so hard at the instantly rancid vibes of iskoort and their honking and wheezing and relentless MLM salesmanship. fuck them kids

as a kid i always imagined them as multicolored turkeys with accordion necks. the description in the book doesn't really support this but the mental image persists. 

FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE CASSIEJAKE OF IT ALL!!! WAUGH!!!!

i completely forgot the howler revelation. my god, you can't shake a stick without hitting a cadre of child soldiers around here. 

i have no idea if it's just my lingering fond memories of this book as a kid (which, like any book i owned before age 12, i constantly read and reread like a holy text) but i really loved this one. gripping premise, a truly bizarre alien world, and the revelation that there may be another way out for the yeerks. 

super super enjoyed this one!! 10/10 wheezes!!

[kisilinramblings]

I've seen people point out that Owl House and the Dragon Prince had their main ships get together partway through their series, and how they are better than ML in handling their romantic subplots by showing them as a couple early on. But do you think these series are comparable in how their romances are structured?

Shows are basically like fanfics : it depends what you are looking for and what appeals to you!

For ML, it's a slow burn romcom set in an universe mixing Superheroes and Magical Girl genres, with the main characters (and ship) learning about each other and themselves while juggling between their civilian and superhero lives all while maintaining their respective secret identity.

For Dragon Prince, it is an epic fantasy adventure in which politics and magic intertwine. The romance between two of the mains is a sub plot and they will face adversity together alongside their allies as they try to prevent a war / save the world. And the story is only half way (and tbh, I have started to forget about elements of the show... I even forgot Callum and Rayla were a thing during Book 3 before you reminded me of it, Anon ^^; -- sorry TDP fans).

The Owl House plays more into the isekai genre setting in a bizarre and magical world and that incorporates a rivals to lovers romance and do end in a relationship and see those two commit to it. It's also the intent of creator Dana Terrace to show LGBTQ+ characters in a healthy and happy relationship during the show instead of just as an Happy Ending. And Kudos to her and her team! I'm behind with S2, but I do enjoy Lumity a lot. They are very cute together.

Btw, getting in a relationship isn't a freaking race! Heck, I was 27 when I started my first relationship ever (hello, greyromantic/ace here!) and we were both so scared our friendship would suffer if it was only unrequited. And even after we did start to date, I waited at least 3 months before slowly opening up about it to my family and our friends.

But it is also true that getting the Kiss™ isn't supposed to be an ending. It can feel satisfying for movies ending or a season finale, but being in a relationship is a new beginning and needs commitment, honesty and respect. And there were disappointing work of fictions in which the book or season or movie ends with the main ship sailing, only for next part to start with a timeskip and the ship has broke up months ago. As if they do not have faith that seeing those two work as a couple and seeing them commit to their relationship would be boring or something.

We do need more healthy and power couples having adventures together with their ups and downs in their relationship, yet working out to make it work because they care about it and about their SO and want to be better for them (Gomez and Morticia from Addams family). Like we also need to see more platonic relationships in media, or stories representing Aro/ace people.

There are also stories like Animorph in which the couple of the group breaks up at the end of the series once the events are resolved. That is a possibility.

There are characters who do feel attraction and try to be together but doesn't work between them even after they have try again and again to make it work (i.e. : La La Land -- hated that movie because I didn't believe in the relationship it was promoting but I did was relieved to finally see the two get their separate ways at the end).

And there are times where you are better alone, living the life with your friends and (found) family than being with a romantic partner. (Mabel from Gravity Falls fits here imo)

Other times, your feelings are unrequited and need to be cope with yet you can still have great friendship with the person you had a crush on (Dipper's crush on Wendy).

All that to say, we need diversity. Both in the kind of stories being told to us as well as the representation of people being in said relationships.

[sunnysunoo]

Love Letters ; Sim Jake

Pairing: Jake X Reader

warnings: explicit language and cursing

word count: 3k words

genre: friends to lovers au! fluff with tiny pieces of crack lmao

Jake was always known for being this perfect guy in school. I mean, they're not wrong. They always described him as if he's this walking piece of art in the hallways. People would stop to just stare at him. You'd stare at him all day too, but you set priorities first: writing him love letters.

You're no Lara Jean, but I guess you can say that she's what inspired you to write Jake letters. Who needs Peter Kavinsky when Jake Shim exists anyways?

note: Not me completely disappearing off of tumblr for like months and then showing up again suddenly lol. I got really busy the past few months since I was completing requirements for school, and I really didn't have the motivation to do anything at the time so I took so time off to take care of myself first so I hope you understand :) But now since it's summer break, I am given at least 2 more months until I go back to school in August :)) Here's the long-awaited Jake imagine that I completely forgot about lmao hope you enjoy <3

P.S I finished writing this at 1:26 am so please excuse the really shitty plot and grammar ill rewrite it once i wake up

tag list: @cha-raena ( sorry for the rlly late post bestie )

Dear Jake, First of all, I will never call you Jaeyun because calling you by your English name makes me feel like I'm your friend. Calling you by your Korean name makes us feel like we're cold strangers to one another and I don't want that. I want us to be something more than that, but it's hard when you don't even know who I am. I'm surprised how you don't grow tired of me just dropping letters right into your locker every time you open it, and that's one of the things I love about you. You don't just throw away people's efforts and you treasure them with care. It makes my heart beat so fast as if I ran miles away from here.

We're already one year left until we graduate high school, and I don't want to end my high school years without you realizing my feelings for you. I know for sure that you would never reciprocate the feelings that I have towards you, so I want to treat this as closure in case we do forget about each other in the future. Yours truly,

Moon

__

"How is this person not over you? That's like the tenth one this month," Jay said, looking over Jake as he reads the letter from his secret admirer. Jake has always been receiving these letters from the same person everyday for the past four months. He's thankful for the letters because they definitely make his day better, knowing that there's someone out there who loves him as who he is regardless of looks. He's not gonna lie that these little notes and letters make his heart race too. "Do you have any plans with finding the person behind the letters?" Jay asked as he watches his best friend trying to hide the small smile that's been growing. No one really knows who this mysterious person is and why they decided to name themselves the moon, but we don't judge anyone in here. If they want to be the moon in their next life, then so be it. "I really want to find the person who's making these letters," Jake shoved the letter in his backpack, trying to not wrinkle it. "But I don't know where to start." "Who's finding who?" A voice popped suddenly beside the presence of the two boys. You leaned beside the locker beside Jake's, watching him as he grabs his books from his locker. "Did Moon drop your daily letter today again?" "They did as usual," Jake wasn't even surprised. He would expect the letters every time he enters the school in the morning. He would open his locker to see the usual small letter placed inside his locker. He usually arrives at seven or earlier, but he's surprised that he could never even catch a glance of this anonymous sender around the campus. "Should I go to school at five in the morning?" "Five in the morning? Isn't that a bit too early?" You questioned, followed by a shaky breath. "The school doesn't even open until six." "I could just walk to that nearby convenience store I always pass by to grab a coffee." He argues, closing his locker shut before walking towards his classroom.

You and Jay followed beside him, and you sneered under your breath, "You don't even wake up to your alarm clock."

"Why don't you even want me to go early anyway?" He glances as you try to give him an answer. But before you could say something, Jay replies first.

"You’re probably hiding something." He said. You rolled your eyes and narrowed your eyes at him. "You are so weird." You grunted, before walking ahead of them. You feel panicked because you were scared that you made yourself obvious to them.

__

You were inside your classroom sitting on your desk. There were only fifteen minutes left before lunch, but you had eaten your packed meal before instead of going to your school cafeteria. You were fidgeting in your place, conflicted about Jake finding his secret admirer, not knowing that it was you who's been sending him letters the past few months. You're not scared of him finding out that the letters were from you; that was the entire reason why you wrote him letters in the first place. You're scared of how he was gonna confront you about it. Would he like you back? Would he hate you? Would he avoid you?

Your mind was full of scenarios but you were suddenly brought back to reality when a hand planted itself on your desk. You look up and saw Jay standing in front of you, eating sushi with his other hand. His face kinda looks like he knows something, and it's freaking you out a bit.

"What?" You asked, suddenly flustered over how his eyes stared right into you. He took the seat in front of your desk and flipped it so it was facing you. He sat down and blurted the phrase that you were dreading to hear from anyone.

"So, you like Jake?"

You suddenly feel like punching him in the face with his sushi.

"What??" Your body felt like, and you were left a nervous mess. Your heart like it was going to pump right out of your chest any minute, and your hands started to sweat.

Jay's mouth formed into a smirk. He caught you. "Jake may be a bit oblivious, but I can totally see right through you."

“Haha...no you don’t,” You tried to deny, but it was all useless when his expression looked unconvinced.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you all red? You look like a bursting tomato.”

“You don’t know that," You leaned further into your seat, playing with the strings of your hoodie.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re not even trying. Just give up and admit it,” Jay was trying to help you confess your feelings for Jake. Frankly, he knew it was you sending him letters this whole time—how can Jake not see it?

With a heavy sigh, you slumped and laid your head on your desk, embarrassed. “Fine. I like him, okay? Are you happy now?”

The smirk on his face grew wider, feeling proud of himself. You are not dealing with his annoying crap this early in the morning. He grinned and munched on his half-eaten sushi. “I knew it.”

“Congratulations,” It was muffled because you hid your red face away from him. All that was on your mind now was how you could book yourself a flight all the way across the world.

“But seriously, since when did you have a crush on him?” You raised your head to face him, giving him a look that could kill, except Jay finds it entertaining rather than intimidating.

“I started having a crush on him when we were in fifth grade. It was at a friend's birthday party, and he saw me being all quiet and lonely. Honestly, I forgot who’s birthday that was.” You told him the very first time you had discovered feelings.

“He saw how sad I looked so he accompanied me the whole time. He was even trying to feel more included in the games and stuff.” You felt a smile ghosting on your lips as you can still vividly remember how you felt your heart tug the first time. “It was kinda like I fell in love at first sight.”

Jay faked a gag, so you lightly punched him in the shoulder. He may be a bit of an asshole, but he’s one the most caring and kind people you’ve ever met. It honestly felt good spilling out your feelings about Jake to him.

Speaking of, Jake was watching you two play around and laugh at Jay's little jokes from outside, and he felt something burning from inside him. Was it that he felt jealous of you and Jay?

No, he can’t be...right?

Maybe it was because of how he felt separated from you and Jay because of him being a separate class.

Yeah, maybe it's because of that.

__

Dear Jake,

I just had the most bizarre day today, and I felt like telling you about it.

It was chemistry period, and we had to be partnered with someone for a lab project. I ended up getting paired with Yeojin. We kinda created this unexpected friendship, which I love. We would crack jokes at each other, tell funny stories, it was so fun to be with her that we had completely forgotten about our project. So now, we both got a detention slip for making an accidental explosion.

How about you? How was your day? I hope it was just as fun as mine. If you feel like the day just wasn't as happy or you're feeling down, just now that it's okay to feel that way because days like these just lasts for 24 hours. It will be all over before you know it and you'll be greeted by another day. Maybe it will be different, and you would be all happy again just like how my day went. Maybe being with you would be my happiest day yet, and I couldn't wait for that day to come. See you soon :)

Love,

Moon

__

"Yeojin!" Jake called, seeing her walk down the opposite way. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"

"Hey Jake," She greeted him with a smile. "Sure, go ahead."

"Could you perhaps give me any information about your partner in Chemistry?" He had hopes of getting any kind of description about his mysterious sender, but he was instead given a sad frown on Yeojin's face.

"Sorry Jake, but that person told me not to tell you about their information." She gave an apologetic smile. "I wish you all the best in finding them!"

Jake muttered a small "okay," and sighed before walking away, feeling defeated.

Yeojin knew that he was gonna ask about Moon the moment he called her from across the hall. She couldn't wait to tell you about this.

__

"Hey Y/N," A voice said from behind. You turned around to see Jake with his backup hung on his shoulder. He brought his hand up and raked his hair, and you felt your face grow red. Jake is like a gift from the gods. How can someone look so ethereal even if they're just standing there? You could stare at him all day. You couldn't even understand a thing he said until he started waving his hands in front of you.

"Hello?" You blinked multiple times as you were brought back out to reality. You saw Jake's face grow into concern. "Are you okay? spaced out."

"O-oh..No, I'm completely fine." You reassured him, feeling embarrassed. "What were you saying again?"

"I was asking you if you wanted to go to school with me early tomorrow."

Well, shit.

Your eyes started to go wide, and your hands started to go clammy.

"Tomorrow?" You repeated, voice trembling.

'Well, yeah." He pouted his lips, and you felt like melting into a small puddle in your place. Your heart started to pound heavily.

Oh my fucking god, he is so adorable.

"Okay, sure I can go with you tomorrow," You weakly smiled at him, slightly tense.

How we're you going to give him the letter now?

__

"Good Morning," Jake said as he watches you close the gates of your house. It was past five in the morning, and you were a mess.

"Morning," You replied back before running your fingers through your hair, getting rid of any flyaways.

As you started walking your way to the bus stop, Jake kept on glancing towards you from time to time. He knew you were pretty, but since when did you become really beautiful in his eyes?

The walk was pretty quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. For him, mostly.

Meanwhile, you couldn't stop freaking out. You had written a letter the night before, but you don't know how you were going to slip it into his locker without him taking notice. If he saw you, he would know.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've been like this since yesterday," Jake blurted. You looked at him before heaving a sigh.

"It's nothing," You mouthed, suddenly feeling anxious and gloomy.

"Something on your mind?"

"Something like that." It was hopeless. I guess he would have to miss this letter today. It was the first time you skipped a day, and you're feeling guilty that you would have to see Jake's face sadden that he wouldn't receive it today.

As you two stop at the bus stop, Jake looked slightly panicked as he was rummaging through the pockets of his blazer before looking through his bag. "Hey, do you have an extra pen? I left mine at home and I have a quiz today."

You snickered, "Out of all the days, Sim Jake. The same day you have a quiz is the same day you forget your pen."

"Very funny." He scoffed.

As you unzipped your bag to grab your pencil case, a folded piece of paper fell out without you realizing it. When Jake went to pick it up, he notices that it was folded the same way as the letters in his locker. It looked so identical.

Once you already got your pencil case out, you were about to hand it to him when you saw what he was holding that made your body freeze with your hand holding the case in the air.

"Why were one of my letters inside your bag?" He glanced at you, waiting for you to reply.

If you were freaking out before, this is a whole other thing. The thing that you were fearing the most is happening right before you.

"Maybe it fell into my bag yesterday..." You stammered, making up an excuse to look like it was an accident. You were tightly holding onto your pencil case, chanting many curse words in your head as you watch Jake unfold the letter.

"I don't think I've received this one yet," He said before he opened the letter and read it.

You watch as his expression formed into confusion as he reads through the paper. It only took a few moments before something in him clicked that it was you sending him the letters.

"Y/N," He began, and you started quivering in fear.

You should've known this would happen, but you didn't expect it to happen this sooner. In fact, you believed that this wouldn't happen at all. But it did.

"Let me explain," You eventually gave up and accepted fate and watch as your identity as "Moon" be revealed to your crush. You're now exposed so you didn't have any other choice but to explain everything. "Yes, I am Moon. I was the one writing you the letters that you've been getting in your locker."

Jake's face was unreadable. He looked bewildered and puzzled. He was trying to comprehend what was happening right now. All this time, it was you?

"I started crushing on you when we attended that birthday party before. I didn't want to confess my feelings for you because I was scared that you were going to harshly reject me, so I started writing down letters as a way to tell you how I feel about you without making you feel awkward around me." You continued, eyes suddenly taking an interest in your shoes. They were brand new too.

Jake was silent, and you felt your heart crack into pieces. You were mad at yourself for being so careless about it that he ended up finding out about you as his secret admirer. You wanted nothing else but to run back home, lock yourself in your room and cry with your sad playlist on loop.

You were expecting a harsh rejection coming from him, but what surprised was how he took dangerous steps towards you, minimizing the gap between you two. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"I don't plan on rejecting you Y/N," You stare into his eyes as it reflects the sunlight of the early morning. "I'm actually happy that it was you."

You look at him, puzzled. He lowly chuckles under his breath before leaning over to place his lips against yours. It was a light, quick kiss, but it brought you feeling ecstatic. You've dreamed of this moment before, and now that it happened, you thanked your clumsiness.

As he pulled away, you were sure your face was a red mess.

"Thank you," His smile was as bright as the stars in the sky. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Thank you for making me like I'm special to someone."

You felt flustered over his words. You were scared that he could hear the sound of your heart pounding loudly. The butterflies in your stomach were going wild, and you felt like this was all a dream.

"So, what am I to you now?" You broke into a smile as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

Jake acted as if he was thinking, "Hm..maybe my best friend still?"

He bursts into a fit of giggles as he sees your smile slowly disappear, replacing it with a look of disbelief. You removed your hand from his and walked at a faster pace away from him.

He ran to match your pace beside you before holding your hand again, "I'm sorry, I won't ever do that again. Is my girl mad at me?"

"Oh my god, it's only five-fifty, Jake." You too broke into laughter over his cheesiness, but your heart fluttered over the thought of Jake calling you his.

__

HERE’S A LITTLE BONUS! since I've made you guys wait for 4 months :(

"What the fuck?" Was the first thing You heard from Jay as you and Jake entered the classroom. All of your classmates were staring at your and his hands intertwined together.

Jay stood in front of you two, crossing his arms together. "Can one of you explain when this happened?" he motioned towards your linking hands. You and Jake smiled at each other before walking away, leaving Jay in a fit of joy, and confusion.

[sohin-ace]

※ A walk with the Jojos

Inspired by a 'A walk with BTS' meme scenario I found somewhere.

Gender neutral and Aromantics friendly :)

-----

Jotaro: Puts his coat over your shoulders when it gets cold.

A gust of cold wind flew past you and Jotaro as you both strolled down the streets of his hometown peacefully. A sharp shudder coursed through you, goosebumps almost painful on your sensitive skin.

Oh how you wished you brought a jacket or at least your school uniform cardigan with you. The early days of spring had started sunny and trustworthy, but of course, the temperature had to drop on you on that very special day.

Your incessant rubbing of your arms and duck of your head didn't go unnoticed by Jotaro next to you. He was aware of the cold and could see from the corner of his eyes how flushed your fingers were and how you winced with every blow of the unforviging wind.

The boy didn't think twice and sighed, proceeding to shake his long gakuran off of his broad shoulders.

You didn't even notice he was disrobing until you felt heavy and warm fabric suddenly weight down on your shoulders, enveloping you, the loud clanking of chains accompanying the movement.

You looked up at the tall male, pleasantly surprised yet also confused, and he only grumbled in response, looking straight forward.

"Yare yare daze... You could have just asked you know."

You never dared. You couldn't dare. After all, it was your problem that you forgot your jacket at home. It surely wasn't Jotaro's job to fix your mistakes, you thought. You wouldn't bother him for such a trivial matter, no matter how close you were. Of course, Jotaro did not share that mindset at all.

You always wondered how he managed to notice every little changes about you and every single reactions while also acting so nonchalant and careless. Behind his rough appearance and act, you loved Jotaro for his selflessness and his unmatched kindness.

You sighed in bliss as you hugged his jacket closer, so warm and soft around you. What a relief it was for your cold skin, it felt like his very own rare embrace.

It smelled just like him, too. You usually weren't a fan of the smell of nicotine and would often tease him for it, but when it was so deliciously mixed with his foreign cologne and his natural scent, it felt like something close to heaven to you. Something comforting, safe, and incredibly gentle.

His jacket was gigantic compared to you and you were sure you looked like a fool wearing this unfitting blanket, swallowing you and making you look even smaller and ridiculous than you already were next to him.

"Thank you Jotaro." You grinned, appreciative towards this kind giant, who you were grateful to always have your back whenever you needed, without even having to ask him.

He responded with a subtle nod before grabbing your shoulder and keeping his strides forward, seemingly satisfied with his good deed and with your smile.

Joseph: Accidentally trips you when he turns to talk to you.

It wasn't unusual for Joseph to blabber on his bizarre adventures. With all the things he had lived, he always had something to recount.

You'd always tell him to write a book about all his plights, but then you'd remember the guy barely had enough braincells to even put two and two together and instantly drop the idea.

Today was just a normal day in New York City, you had been strolling around with the behemoth, listening intently, or rather, tiredly as he rambled ceaselessly.

You were stuck between loving all his crazy stories and being annoyed at his obnoxious and theatrical, 'Jojo-fied', as you liked to call it, storytelling.

"And then he said 'You'll never touch the ground ever again Joseph Joestar!' but look who's in outer space now, huh?!" He yelled out, making a few heads turn with his exaggerated hand gestures and booming voice.

You nodded your head and responded with very basic 'Uh huh's and 'Oh's, as well as 'That's cool' and whatnot. Not like you didn't care for what he was saying, but you just couldn't figure what to tell him. Also, the unnecessary attention you were getting was quite flustering too.

"GASP! Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT!! I DIDN'T EVEN TELL YOU THE BEST PART YET!!!"

Before you could even process what was happening, Joseph forcefully turned towards you, gasping loudly and intenting to grab your already very well-gripped attention.

But the brute was so clumsy about it, he kicked his unreasonably thick leg in front of your much smaller feet, not warning you as you kept walking, only to trip over him with a yelp that you'd never forget.

"YEEEK-!"

"WOAAH-!!"

With an even louder scream, Joseph tried his best to grab you before you could kiss New York City's piss tainted ground, yanking you to your feet as best as he could, which was more than enough with the strength the man had.

He eventually held you against his chest firmly, his arms belted more than securely around your shoulders and back, shocked and scared that if he loosened his grip even the slightest, you'd either fly away or just collapse.

You panted with adrenaline after regaining your  balance and barely left him any time to laugh at your demise or even react at all.

"JOJO YOU FREAKING DUMBASS!!!" You hollered all your fury, pushing yourself off of him, "I ALMOST DIED HERE!!!!"

Joseph cowered in fear as you proceeded your attacks on his poor arms, chest and face. He yelped in pain, desperately putting his arms up in front of him in hopes to shield himself from your unstoppable slapping. For someone with such small hands, you sure hit hard.

"Ow ow ow stop please! This is abuse!! I'm sorry-Ow! Please, n-not there~ ACK- OKAY FINE I'LL STOP!!!"

Josuke: Notices your shoe lace in untied and ties it for you.

In the small, crazy, noisy and bizarre town that was Morioh, there was a famous legend running.

"That if your boyfriend kneels down to tie your shoelaces for you, they'll never come undone ever again! Do you believe that?" You chuckled, barely paying any attention to your surroundings.

Josuke strolled mindlessly next to you, half listening, half not. You were well aware that boys like him often had a hard time paying attention for more than a minute unless it was about sports, video games, or a very big pair of boobs.

"Hmmh, yeah. Crazy stuff..." He mumbled, looking blankly forward, his eyes catching passing cars and boutiques but his ears catching none of your words.

"Hey... Are you even listening?" You glared suspiciously at him, frustrated already. This boy could never concentrate.

"Oh tell me about it." He replied, not even knowing what he was even responding to. Eye twitching, you tested him one last time.

"Rohan has a really nice ass and I'm much better at Smash Bros than you'll ever be."

"Oh, absolutely. You know it!" He nodded, much to your great offense.

"Hey.. Josuke...!" You growled, ready to give him a good slap of reality, "Higashikata!!"

As if on cue, Josuke glanced down and noticed that your shoelaces were untied as you walked.

Without even thinking twice about it, Josuke moved his hands from where they were resting behind his neck and instantly brought one to your chest, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You shot him a puzzled look at his sudden behavior and he immediately bent over, getting down on one knee, on the floor, in front of you, without a care in the world, right in the middle of the street.

You looked down at him and gasped as you noticed he started tying up your poorly secured shoelaces that you didn't bother knotting properly in the morning.

"Oi-! Josuke, what are you doing?! Get up, it's fine I'll do it mysel-"

"Oh shush." He cut you off, handling the chords into cute and safe little bows on your shoes, like a knight, or a prince, happy to fulfill his duty.

You couldn't hold back your blush at the embarassing and impromptu situation. Your heart raced as you tried to get him to stand up, but he was adamant on helping you whether you were embarassed or not.

The boy was completely nonchalant about the ordeal, never caring about the weird looks you both were getting and the many whispers of 'how cute' and 'what an adorabe couple' people were gushing out.

You couldn't reciprocate the indifference. You knew Josuke was the serving type, and this was normal for him. To make your life easy, to treat you, to protect you.

And to fix you.

"... Are you sure you haven't been listening to me? I feel like you're hitting on me right now Jojo." You raised an eyebrow as he got up, proud of his handiwork.

His expression soon fell into a shocked one and he visibly stiffened, "Huh? What? No I'm not?!"

"You literally tied my shoelaces right after I told you that's a boyfriend thing to do!" You shot back and he blushed deep red, gasping at yout sudden assumptions.

"What??! It's not though!! I'm not- I wasn't even paying attention!"

"You're hitting on me, I'm telling Mr. Jotaro."

"NO DON'T TELL HIM!!!"

Jonathan: Carves his and your initials into a tree.

Jonathan had invited you to join him one afternoon in the usual place you both loved to hang out.

You two talked and walked around a path that you could call your little escape route. One you've used so much, you were pretty sure to be responsible for green-less trail that longed the riverside.

Very suddenly, Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks, without saying anything, effectively grabbing your attention.

"What's wrong, Jojo?" You asked, looking back at him.

Without a warning, he took out a small object from his pocket, smiling coyly at you. You were confused but your expression soon shifted when he pressed on a small mechanism that swiftly revealed a sharp, shiny blade.

You flinched and gasped, bringing a hand to your mouth in shock. "Jojo!! Why are you walking around with a pocket knife?! Are you crazy??!!"

He panicked at your reaction and got flustered, agitating his hands around, a dangerous gesture to make for someone holding a knife.

"N-no no no! Wait, Y/N! It's just- I mean, it's useful sometimes... I mean..." He blabbered, not knowing how to breathe between words anymore, "I don't use it... Or- well... I don't do weird things with it it's just-... I would never-... "

He stuttered anxiously, trying to justify himself, getting more and more stressed with your lack of response. Oh no, God, he didn't want to scare you off or lose you over something like this!

He would never forgive himself if you ever thought he were a dangerous man, or a delinquent, or worse, that he'd ever hurt you, and in such a cowardly way too.

He stopped panicking when you suddenly chuckled.

"Ooouh~ Oh my~" You sang teasingly, before pointing at him in playful accusation "Am I hanging out with a baaaad boy~? Jojo you nasty man!"

"S-... STOP IT!!" He cried out as you laughed your heart out, scared that somebody might hear you and take it the wrong way. "Just... Hold on..."

With the knife in his hand, he turned his back to you and started carving something in the tree trunk. You approached and tried to look over his shoulder, wondering what kind of nonsense he could be drawing in there.

"What is this?" You gently tapped his busy arm and he tried to hide his work from your nosy eyes.

"Wait! It's a surprise! I'm almost done... Just... A little bit..." He grunted a bit as he finished carving the blunt surface, "Aaannd.... Done!"

He stepped back, wiping his brow and leaning his hand on the tree, letting you enough space to admire his little work of art. Proud yet also a bit anxious about your reaction.

You got closer to the little heart he drew on the tree. Heart with both your initials in it. For the sake of discretion, he rathered write your initials over your names, which made it all the more adorable, in your eyes.

You gasped lightly, not able to contain your giddy smile. "Jonathan! That's so cheesy! Who taught you that? Have you been reading those weird romance novels?"

"Yes- I mean, NO! No! I don't read that! I'm a man! Only girls read those!" He spat back, flushing a shade of red you wished you could paint.

"Hmmmmm yeah, right!"

He could only chase you around to hopefully make you stop teasing him. He knew he'd never hear the end of it.

Johnny: Grabs your hand and places it around his arm.

"I gotta say..." You started, happily sipping on your drink, "The best thing about your handicap is how we can skip the line for everything!"

You grinned behind Johnny as you pushed his wheelchair forward, walking around the city for the short time you were in Kansas.

"I know. You'll owe me one by the way." He blankly jested, his tone not matching his humour. You've known him long enough to catch on the little perks of his speech, making you chuckle again.

You balanced your cup with one hand to get a better grip on the chair's handles and got back to pushing him. Johnny was quick to realise you were slowing down every once in a while to drink up.

"Stop." He ordered and you obliged, surprised by the sudden request.

"Huh?" You bent over slightly to try to look at him. "Are you okay? Did you need something?"

"This won't do..."

You walked around to get next to him. You were used to him having his foot falling from the footrest and putting it back before it could hurt him, or needing to reajust his back seat from time to time.

Nothing out of the ordinary, you thought. You would have never expected his next request.

Johnny looked over at you, no words shared, and offered his arm out to you, like the perfect gentleman he was.

"...Jojo?"

"I can move by myself. Drink your tea in peace." He blushed and looked away, sighing to himself.

You couldn't help your smile and endeared look. Your Johnny was always such a kind soul behind what he let show. He was observant and selfless. That's why he wanted to free you the burden of pushing his wheelchair, at least so you could enjoy your drink for a moment.

However it was obvious to you that he wanted you to hold him, so dearly, and had found an excuse for you to do so without asking you such an embarassing question.

You couldn't pass on the cute opportunity, but at the same time, you wanted him to make the first move.

You tilted your head, shooting him a faux confused and oblivious look, letting him know you needed him to be clearer in his request.

He huffed and held back on face palming, cheeks becoming redder by the second. Why were you always doing this to him? Teasing him to no end.

He abruptly grabbed you hand, softening his grip immediately after measuring his strength, and placed it around his arm.

You happily followed his lead and gently grabbed his arm, much sturdier than it looked, and gave him enough space to roll the wheels in pace with you.

"Thank you Johnny~" You chimed happily and he let out the ghost of a smile in response, smile that you sadly missed.

Giorno: Makes you dance with him when you walk past a busker.

You passed along a bay in Naples with Giorno, both of you exceptionnally finishing school early due to the surprising absence of your math teacher.

You both talked and suddenly heard the distant sound of accordion, getting louder and louder the more you walked.

You paused, much more intrigued by the musician  on the paved pedestrian street, playing a beautiful song for all to listen to. He was a sweet-looking old man, playing a traditionnal Tarantella, the iconic sound of Italy.

Giorno stopped with you, wanting to hear more of what this busker had to offer. You smiled, appreciating the sweet melody and calculated movements of the instrumentalist.

Giorno suddenly walked up in front of you, bending down at the waist to offer his hand out to you, his intense green eyes inviting you and snatching you out of your rêverie.

"Would you care to honor me with a dance, Y/N?"

You gasped silently and felt your cheeks burn at his words, his voice like velvet.

"W-... What? Right here, right now...?" You hesitated, but still gently laid your hand over his soft one, seeking reassurance in his hold.

Giorno was always a charming and extremely well-mannered boy despite the lack of proper education he had received. You would always tell him how princely he looked and acted, and he never failed to impress you by his eloquence, his broad mind, and his gestures.

But you surely did not expect him to propose you a dance, out in public. The sole idea was making you self-conscious, but also excited.

He ever-so-slightly closed his fingers around yours, expecting your consent with a soft smile. You were always at ease with Giorno, for the years you've known each other. Why would you ever refuse anything he asks you?

Like he had read through your heart, Giorno swiftly pulled you towards him, placing his hand right at the small of your back, keeping you up close and personal.

You giggled at the cheesy and intimate position, placing your free hand on his shoulder and ready to mess up the pace.

"I'll step on your toes!" You playfully warned him and he chuckled, endeared.

"Don't worry, Y/N. Just follow my lead."

The busker, noticing you two, smiled and finished up his song, immediately starting up a waltz, the nicest and sweetest of his repertoire.

Giorno confidently started in graceful and fluid movements. You followed him, guided by his assured poise. You tried not to stare down at your feet, which was easy task once you got captivated by his strong gaze.

You focused on your rhythm and his steps. You always wondered why he had randomly decided to teach you to waltz, but now you were grateful that he did, because you truly felt like royalty, and this feeling was priceless.

Pedestrians gathered, watching, amused by the splendid show before them. Two adorable teenagers dancing and living their youth, accompanying the busker.

You laughed, both from nervousness and happiness, knowing well Giorno would hold up the skies just to see you smile like this.

After stepping on Giorno's poor toes more than often enough, and after almost crashing down on him, you two decided it was time to go.

Giorno made sure to tip the gifted old man handsomely, much more than conventionnal, making him wonder how such a young boy could have so much money to spare.

Jolyne: Shares her headphones with you.

You walked side by side with Jolyne. You had planned on having a nice walk alongside the beach together, but the weather had seemed to betray you two, with unusually cloudy grey skies and cold breezes.

And thus, you were prompted to walk through town instead. You were happy either way, as long as you were with Jolyne, your most favourite girl in the world, it didn't really matter where you went or what you did.

The entire walk was silent and, as much as you knew Jolyne wasn't necessarily the most talkative type, the fact that she hasn't removed her earphones at all from the moment you both joined earlier really threw you off.

You guessed she wasn't in the mood for talking. You could absolutely understand that, but the way she seemed to completely ignore you and cross you out of conversing with her at all saddened you.

Maybe she didn't want to go out at all and she just didn't have the heart to cancel on you.

You looked down, with all these questions plaguing your mind, wondering if you had done something to make her distant.

Before you could drown in more self-doubt, she nudged your arm and grabbed your attention. She was smiling at you with her cute green lips.

You looked at her confused, like you had been dreaming it all about her being upset with you. She looked so excited, suddenly.

She pulled out her green iPod, one that she had decorated with tacky semi-permanent tattoos from an infamous bubblegum brand, and immediately gave you one of her earbuds.

"Girl, you have to listen to this. It's Jimi Hendrix playing, listen, listen!" You obliged and put the earbud on, listening to her song intently, "This man's crazy, what the fuck? And they say lefties can't play guitar..."

You kept on listening, the song in one ear, Jolyne's comments in the other. She was lost in the music, playing air guitar and singing bits of the song. It was absolutely endearing to see her so happy about such a little thing.

"So? So? Did you like it?" She turned to you with a big grin as the song ended, her eyes wide and starry with hope of your validation, "I love this song sooo much, I had to make you listen! How was it? Be honest!"

You chuckled, overwhelmed by her enthusiasm and adorable giddiness, "It was really cool Jolyne, you have nice tastes. Send it to me next time."

"Yess!!!" She cheered, pumping her fist in the air in victory. "Alright, let's get some bagels now, I'm starving."

She wrapped a strong arm around your shoulder, tired of the distance separating you. "My treat! Oh! And you have to show me that new group you told me about the other day. Even Hermes is talking about them now."

You couldn't bite back your growing smile as she squeezed you close. Not because of the very appealing call of bagels, even though you were more than looking forward to that, but because of how sweet Jolyne was to you despite what she appeared.

Showing her deepest interests to you when she wasn't much of a sharer was her own love language.

[writingtoforgetreality]

Speak Of The Devil (Malcolm Bright x Winchester!Reader) | Prodigal Son/Supernatural Crossover

[Prodigal Son-Masterlist], [Supernatural-Masterlist]

Summary: What started as a normal case for the NYPD ended in you needing help from your family. Malcolm had never met your brothers & they had no idea you were dating. Things were bound to get complicated, it was inevitable. Still, you had to focus on this case before another person got killed.

Words: 5,557

Warnings: spoilers for 2x02 (doesn’t follow the actual plot obviously), murder, demons, language, confused Malcolm, lil hint at Destiel (barely there, could be missed if you don’t pay attention - sorry, I couldn’t help myself), I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun while writing something

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The NYPD was assigned to solve a “creepy ass case”, as JT so lovingly put it. As Malcolm & you got to the crime scene, you understood what your fellow coworker had warned you about. Ugh, you hated churches with your guts. Well, that was not entirely true. But whenever a murder happened on a holy ground, nothing good ever came out of it. That was what you experienced before you started working for the police. Before that…you also worked for the police somehow? Just, they were not aware of that & you might have done some criminal things. For the greater good, though! Your brothers & you had saved thousands of people. They still did. You just needed to get out of this life & see if there was more for you to achieve. And there was. Not only did you find a great family who was also your team, at the same time you found Malcolm, your boyfriend.

Back to the case. Walking into a crime scene had always been bizarre to you. It showed you how close you still were to murder, even though you promised your brothers to distance yourself from it entirely. Technically, you did. This was different, though. At least you told yourself so. Gil, JT, Dani & Edrisa were already inspecting the scene when you two walked in. Oh no. This could not be good. The image in front of you seemed familiar & if it were not inappropriate to roll your eyes at a dead person, you would do it. Gil briefly explained the situation to you. Apparently the victim had been a member of the church for 30 years. The Lieutenant & Malcolm interrogated Sister Agnes. She was the one who found the body. There was another thing bothering you, so you did not really pay attention to whatever she was saying. Your focus was solely on JT, who had been through way too much to stand here & act as if everything was fine. A slight touch on his shoulder made him turn his head in your direction.

“Hey, you okay?” of course you were concerned about him. He was family, after all.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he brushed you off as if he did not know what point you were trying to get across.

“Really? Because usually when Malcolm says he’s fine…well, he’s everything but.” a chuckle lightened the mood a little. You had to keep a closer eye on JT for the time being. Just in case.

“Our victim here performed an exorcism.” Malcolm’s statement let your eyes snap back to where he was standing. Edrisa smiled excitedly at him. This woman…She was the sweetest soul. Could be annoying, too. But in a sweet & loving way. Maybe she should turn down her excitement for murder. Who were you kidding? Your boyfriend was probably worse when it came to that. Wanting to have a closer look at the book Malcolm was referring to, you put your gloves on & carefully walked over to him. Trying not to mess up any possible clues left behind by the killer.

“Can I have a look?” you gestured to the small book & Malcolm handed it over to you. Shit. If you remembered correctly, there was a similar one back at the bunker. A look inside the pages confirmed your assumption. No need to freak out right away. There were tons of crazy people out there. Just because of this murder in this church & this book did not mean that there was anything supernatural involved. You just hoped it would stay that way. For everyone’s sake.

Your face fell when Edrisa said that there was a note left behind, written in blood. To the others, it looked like a sign without meaning. It looked familiar to you but you could not quite pinpoint where you remembered it from. Sister Agnes’ words made you stop in your tracks.

“Abaddon.” she breathed out. Sure, why the hell not? Okay, maybe this case was something for your brothers. But wait a damn minute…last time you checked, Abaddon was stabbed with the First Blade. She could not possibly be back, could she?

“Now we know our killer’s name.” Malcolm’s words gained the attention of the entire team. There was no way he had everything figured out already. You knew he was a great profiler but even that would have been too fast for him.

“Oh? Who is it?” Gil asked intrigued.

“You know.” Malcolm paused for a few moments. Probably for dramatic effect but what did you know? “The devil.” you could not help but laugh at his words. Great, now everyone was looking at you weirdly. Oh, he made a joke. Of course he did. Sometimes you forgot that you were not an active part of the hunting life anymore. A few coughs from you stopped the awkward tension in the room. At least a bit.

In no way did you want to defend Lucifer. He had made your life literal hell one too many times. But even he would not go as far & do something as cruel as this. Again, last time you checked, he was dead. But death did not agree with Lucifer. How many times had he died? You probably should not be the one to judge. You were not better by any means.

Excusing yourself to get some fresh air, you grabbed your phone out of your pocket. Hopefully he would pick up. It had been a while since you last talked. The phone rang & rang & slowly you lost hope. Maybe he really was mad at you for being radio silent for so long.

“(Y/N)?” his voice startled you slightly.

“Sam! Uh, hi.” suddenly you turned shy.

“It’s so good to hear from you! How are you?” he was happy that you decided to call after so long.

“I’m good, thanks. Actually, I need to ask you for a favor…” you started.

“What is it? Everything alright?” Sam was growing concerned. Back then, you hated relying on another person, too stubborn to ask for help, because you wanted to do everything on your own.

“There’s a case here in New York…I believe it’s your kind. And I genuinely don’t think I can deal with this on my own.”

“But you’re safe, right?”

“I am, as safe as one can be.” you chuckled. Working for the police & all that. Not that you would tell Sam on the phone. If they were to come by, he would find out sooner or later. “I’ll send you the details, alright? Be here as fast as you can.”

“Okay, no problem. Take care, okay?”

“You too. See you soon.” wow, you were about to see your brothers again. Hopefully everything would be fine & nobody would rip your head off.

“See you, (Y/N).” Sam ended the call & you let out a breath you did not know you were holding.

The phone call should stay a secret for the time being. People breaking out in panic was everything but convenient. Besides, you did not need your team looking at you like you were a lunatic. Malcolm explained possession trance disorder when you joined everyone again. How could one human being know so much about so many unimportant things? Like, this man was a human dictionary. Looking over at Gil, you had to grin by how hard he was trying to make sense of what Malcolm was saying. Gil noticed you staring at him & gave you a look. The one that made you not want to mess with him. Still, you laughed shortly, you could not keep it in any longer. Malcolm gave you a questioning look but you simply shrugged him off by a wave of your hand.

The last interrogation of the day was with the guy who was currently doing the painting job inside the church. Unfortunately, you did not get any more information. Everything he told you, you had already heard from the others. Basically, after interrogating everyone, you were certain that this was not a common case for the NYPD. And you were more than happy that your brothers were on their way to come over. How would you explain any of this to Malcolm? He knew you had two brothers but you had also told him that you were not necessarily talking, only when it came to emergencies. Great, Malcolm would freak out. Even more so than normal, probably.

“Why do we have to visit your father again?” you shot the question at Malcolm as you were walking over the psychiatric yard, looking for Martin. He rolled his eyes at you, exhausted by your constant questioning.

“I’ve explained it a thousand times, (Y/N).”

“Well, I don’t see how any of this is connected to him.” you argued. Whenever Malcolm had the great idea to visit his father, you tagged along. Simply because you knew it was always hard for him & you wanted to support him wherever you could. Right now, though, you were losing your patience. After all, you knew the cause of this case. But your brothers had yet to arrive so you should play along for now.

“Malcolm, my boy. (Y/N)! Always nice to see you.” Martin started, excited to see his son accompanied by you. The first time you visited Martin, he took an immediate liking to you. Probably because he could see that you were good for Malcolm & his son meant the world to him. Still, he was a narcissistic psychopath. Remembering clearly how he had told you that everyone had flaws during your first meeting. Ah, good times.

“I wish I could say the same, Dr. Whitly.” a sarcastic smile plastered on your face. From then on, you let Malcolm do the talking, not really paying attention to what he was saying. Your thoughts were with your brothers, hoping they would get their asses here quickly before you had to endure more of this bullshit. It was frustrating when you knew how to solve this case but there was nobody you could talk to, not about this. Malcolm desperately tried searching for a non-supernatural explanation. Of course he did. And you just stood by, not being helpful at all. Malcolm did notice your quietness but did not comment on it. Not when you were with his father. He would ask you later today, when you were back at home.

Sam sent you a message earlier today, asking for your address to meet up. This meant that they would not take much longer. The knock on the door was confirmation enough. Malcolm walked over, ready to open it & you did not have enough time to warn him. Oh, this was bound to be fun.

“Uh…Hello?” Malcolm, everyone. Great first impression.

“You’re not (Y/N).” you could make out Dean’s voice. Walking up to where Malcolm was standing in the doorway, you looked over his shoulder & smiled at your brothers. They really were here, it had been too long. Softly pushing Malcolm out of the way, you pulled both of them in a long overdue hug. It was only then when you realized how much you had missed them. Malcolm observed the interaction from afar, confusion obviously shown on his face. Right now, you could only focus on the men in front of you, though.

“It’s good to see you guys again.” smiling widely at them. Sam nodded at you & even Dean could not hide the small smile that was forming on his face.

“I’m sorry…Can I help you guys?” Malcolm spoke up, waiting for answers from either you or the strangers that now entered his apartment.

“No, but we’ll help you.” Dean walked over to Malcolm & patted his shoulder.

“Sam, Dean. This is Malcolm. Malcolm. These are my brothers.” you awkwardly introduced them to each other. Malcolm’s mouth hang open & he could not form a coherent sentence.

“Nice to meet you.” Sam held out his hand & it took Malcolm a second to shake it.

“Your brothers?” Malcolm whisper-yelled.

“Yeah?”

“And what are they doing here?” it was not his intention to sound rude, you knew that. Yet, he seemed rather frustrated because you clearly knew they were coming over but decided against telling your boyfriend.

“Remember when I told you that they had a similar job to ours?” Malcolm nodded at you. “This case we’re working on…that’s one of their kind. We wouldn’t be able to solve it without their help.” you tried explaining.

“We have the best working team out there! Of course we could’ve solved it alone!” but you simply shook your head at him. He would understand sooner or later.

Sam & Dean sat down on the expensive couch, Dean putting his feet on the coffee table. Good thing Malcolm did not care too much about his furniture. Malcolm & you brought drinks from the kitchen & sat across from them. Dean only eyed Malcolm, though. The inevitable was about to happen, you just hoped Malcolm would deliver accordingly.

“Who the hell are you?” he was judging Malcolm & neither Sam’s elbow nudging him nor your dirty look changed the way he looked at him. What could you say? Dean was very protective of you, even after ages of not talking.

“Malcolm Bright, profiler for the NYPD.” that made the brothers’ eyebrows raise. Thank God he did not let slip that he was the son of a serial killer.

“You’re working for the police?” Sam eyed Malcolm, now being confused as to why you would get them involved with the police even though you were aware of what they had been through.

“Well, yeah. I mean, (Y/N) & I met there.” Malcolm reasoned. Great, the cat was out of the bag now.

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Dean looked…disappointed?

“Okay, wait a minute. Let me explain!” Sam & Dean nodded at you to continue. “When I left you guys, I really tried to leave this life behind. I did. But I still wanted to help people. So…one thing came to another & then I was part of the NYPD &-“ you were interrupted by Dean, of course.

“And slept around with this guy?” Dean looked Malcolm over & you rolled your eyes at him. Malcolm looked offended but stayed silent.

“This guy is my boyfriend. And his name is Malcolm.” you defended him. “And I asked you to help me with this case, not with my dating life.” looking at Dean sternly, he nodded at you & apologized. He could get caught up in the heat of the moment but you had more important things to focus on.

Throughout your talk, Malcolm sent you questioning looks every now & then. You brushed him off, telling him you would explain it later. Sam & Dean got the message & tried keeping the talk casual. Clearly, your boyfriend did not know about the supernatural & it would be better if it stayed that way.

“Okay, so tomorrow, we’ll talk to Norman & see what we can find out.” Malcolm concluded after some long confusing hours.

“Sammy & I need some sleep after that long ass drive anyway. We’ll be meeting at his house first thing in the morning. Don’t be late.” when he said that, he stared at Malcolm. Rolling your eyes at his childish antics, you slapped him lightly on the chest.

“Do you wanna stay here for the night?” you asked when they were walking to the front door.

“Um, no. We’re checked in at the motel a few blocks down. Besides…” Dean gestured wildly with his hands. “This entire apartment looks too luxurious for us. How did you get so much money anyway?” Dean asked, again motioning at the expensive looking apartment.

“It’s actually Malcolm’s…I moved in not too long ago.” explaining to both of them. Sam nodded, looking satisfied with your current living situation. Dean, of course, had another thing to comment on.

“Oh wow, (Y/N)…Good catch.” winking at you, you shoved him out of the apartment, shaking your head.

“Good night!” you said before closing the door behind them, letting out a long sigh.

“Your brothers are…nice.” Malcolm started. You winced at his choice of words. In your head, it all worked out way better.

“I’m sorry, Mal…They can be quite protective.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it. They’re, uh, very into this religious thing, huh?”

“Oh, you have noooo idea.” you chuckled.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming by?”

“I don’t know…I guess I didn’t want you to think that you’re not good enough for this case.”

“But?”

“But I need you to trust me when I tell you that Sam & Dean are the ones who should handle this one.”

“I trust you, you know that, (Y/N). But you have to give me permission to say “I told you so.” when we solve this case without their help.” Malcolm held out his hand for you to shake.

“Deal.” you smiled at him. Your brothers & boyfriend might not become best friends but you did not expect them to. All you wanted was to get rid of whatever killed that priest. And you knew that the supernatural feared Sam & Dean. This would be over soon.

“You sure these are the same guys who were at our apartment yesterday?” Malcolm whispered to you when you were approaching two men in suits. Not their usual flannel attire, they were working a job after all.

“Just play along, alright?” Malcolm nodded at you. He promised to trust you on this & you seemed like you knew what you were doing.

“Detectives.” Dean greeted you.

“Shut up.” you threw back almost immediately. Sam & Dean laughed at your comment.

“I missed you, lil sis.” Dean said with a genuine tone, one that made you smile wildly.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Sam knocked on the door, waiting for it to open. They introduced themselves as FBI & showed the woman in the doorway their badges. Shooting Malcolm a look as if to say “Don’t ask.” & he just acted as if he had not seen this. The woman led you upstairs to a room. She warned you to not cross the salt lines. All of you nodded. Well, all but Malcolm. The poor man could not understand a thing. Sometimes you wished you were this innocent when it came to cases like this. If it were not for Malcolm, this would have felt like the good old days when you spent your time solving case after case with your brothers. Yeah, it had been dangerous & exhausting but you still liked being a hunter. Also, the three of you were one hell of a team.

The door opened & you were met with countless geometrical lines made out of salt. Because a simple circle would not do the job or what? Fucking show-off. Careful not to mess with the salt, the four of you stepped inside the dark room. Norman’s back was facing you. While Sam & Dean simply took in the room to check for any indicators of anything supernatural, Malcolm started interrogating Norman. You signaled the boys to let him do his job.

“The salt keeps him out.” suddenly, Norman’s voice was way deeper than when he first started talking. Weird guy. Still, you did not think it was him.

“Who?” Malcolm asked in a calm voice. He was good at this. Even though he almost always got himself killed.

“The demon.” Norman said. What the hell was wrong with him? Malcolm turned around to you & found the three of you rolling your eyes. Really desperate if a person wanted to be a demon.

“He’s clearly mentally ill.” Malcolm stated quietly.

“Oh, really?” you sarcastically shot back. Who would have thought? Malcolm started lifting one of his foot, meaning to cross the line.

“Mal, wait. Don’t.” you warned him but when did Malcolm ever listen? You were not sure how Norman even noticed Malcolm crossing the line, his back was still facing you after all, but all of a sudden things escalated. Apparently, Norman thought Malcolm was a demon. He was everything but, really. He just had some demons to fight but he was not one. Norman was grabbing a lamp, wanting to attack Malcolm with it but you got everything sorted before anything bad could happen. Norman was on his way in the hospital & you were just glad that everyone was fine.

When all of you were outside the house again, Sam & Dean looked annoyed.

“Dude, we wasted time with this madman.” Dean started. “That’s bullshit.”

“Dean, stop.” you cut him off before the situation got too intense. “He was the only suspect we had. We couldn’t have known he was mentally ill.”

“We should check out the church tonight.” Sam suggested.

“Why at night?” Malcolm asked curiously.

“Oh, look how precious he is.” Dean mocked. If he kept acting that way you might as well salt & burn his bones next. Turning to Malcolm, you tried reasoning with him.

“Because we can’t risk people watching us. Not when we’re doing this.” Malcolm understood but he also planned a lot of questions for when you were back home.

“Alright, we’ll meet there later. Dean & I will take care of everything we might need.” Sam said before walking off to Baby.

“I see you took great care of her.” nudging Dean, motioning at the beautiful ’67 Chevy Impala. Another thing you had missed dearly. Countless nights had been spent in the backseat, you associated this car with a lot of happy memories.

“Always.” Dean smiled at you. “Baby misses you, too, you know?”

“I’m sure she does. After all, I had the brains. Of course she misses my smartness.” Dean shook his head at you, rolling his eyes at the same time. Saying goodbye & turning around, Malcolm gave you a look.

“What?”

“Baby? Her? You sure you were talking about the car?” oh, that was bothering him. Now you understood.

“It’s a long story.” you laughed & gave him a kiss on the cheek before walking past him. He let out a short laugh & smiled at your actions.

“(Y/N)? I think we should talk.” Malcolm started shortly after you entered your shared apartment.

“Oh no…that’s never a good sign.”

“What’s going on here?” you could tell he was serious. Fuck, you hated lying to him. One of the reasons why you had barely mentioned your brothers was to avoid questions you did not want to answer. It was now or never. Telling Malcolm to sit down, you were about to start at the very beginning. There were still a few hours left before you had to be at the church, might as well use it appropriately. Hopefully, Malcolm did not decide to leave you after opening up to him.

“So…you’re telling me that monsters are real, your brothers hunt them down & you used to help them before you left.” you nodded when Malcolm tried processing what you had just told him. “And my girlfriend saved the world more than once.” he concluded.

“Pretty much, yeah.” he was silent for a few seconds. That would be the moment he would ask you to leave.

“My girlfriend is a badass.” Malcolm mumbled & started laughing then. You joined in.

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” you questioned, not really believing that he dealt with it so casually.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m freaking out.” he confessed. “You know, makes me think of all the cases we couldn’t solve. Maybe we weren’t successful because of…supernatural beings playing a part. But honestly, it’s just another thing that got added to my plate. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Mal…”

“No, really. I mean it. Besides, now I know that if I ever meet a monster, you’re here to fight it off. Or your brothers. If I were a monster, I’d be scared as shit of them.” Malcolm finished & you laughed, throwing your entire body back on the couch. That actually went quite well? At least something positive.

Churches were creepy in general. But churches at night? That was a whole other level of madness. You met Sam & Dean at the Impala, Dean’s face buried in the trunk, looking for suitable weapons. Malcolm had promised not to question your actions & you were thankful for it. Because you had other things to focus on. Dean handed out weapons which you gladly accepted.

“Mal? You gotta promise me to stay behind.” concerning eyes met his & he knew better than to argue with you. Malcolm gulped but nodded anyway.

“You ready to do this?” Sam asked.

“I am but I think (Y/N)’s a little rusty.” Dean commented.

“Just...let’s get this over with…” rolling your eyes at Dean, you hated to admit that he was most likely right. You had not been on a hunt in a very long time but you knew you could fight when push came to shove.

The four of you entered the church silently, weapons at ready. After walking around for a while, Dean lifted his hand to stop you all. Trying to get a better look at what made him freeze, you were shocked when you saw Jonah, the painter, pacing these holy grounds. Why did you not think of him? It was quite obvious, really. Maybe you were getting rusty.

“Well, he is a demon, no doubts, but he isn’t Abaddon.” Dean spoke, quietly enough as to not get caught. “So if you guys distract this son of a bitch, I can catch him off guard from behind & stab him.”

“No, wait. You can’t kill him, Dean.” you argued. There was still a possibility of a human being somewhere inside.

“What? Why?” Dean turned towards you & tilted his head in confusion. Sighing out, you tried to talk some sense into him.

“Let Sam do an exorcism. We don’t know if Jonah’s still in there.” Dean thought about this for a few seconds but nodded afterwards. Sam grabbed an old lore book with the exorcism inside. He remembered the words by heart but better safe than sorry, right? Your plan was to stay hidden, the church was dark enough to do that without getting caught.

The demon was confused when he heard the first words of the exorcism, already struggling to stay inside Jonah. Good, he was not a strong one. Malcolm stayed close with you. Sam & Dean each took one side of the church, just in case something went wrong. Sam continued with the latin words & the demon was unable to move anymore. He was trapped in one place. That was when all of you made yourself shown to him. Hopefully, Jonah was still alive in there. If not, you had a lot of explaining to do. You already had but another dead person would make everything even more complicated.

“I AM ABADDON!” the demon screamed & you noticed that he barely had enough strength to stay in Jonah’s body anymore. Malcolm stayed in the background, simply observing & letting you do your job.

“I’m sure you wanna be, pal.” Dean got closer to the demon but not too close for it to be dangerous. “But we got rid of her a long time ago.” and it was true. Abaddon’s death was years ago. Why this demon thought to be her? You were not sure. But you also did not care. You just wanted this to be over. Sam finished the ritual & black smoke came out of Jonah’s mouth. After that, he fell to the floor & all of you ran over to him. Malcolm checked for a pulse & nodded when he felt it. Letting out a breath, you were glad that you could save him. Grabbing your phone out of your pocket, you dialed 911 & called Gil right after.

In no time, cars were surrounding the church. Sam, Dean, Malcom & you were standing in a small circle outside. Gil approached you.

“What the hell happened? And who the hell are you guys?” the second question was directed at your brothers who coughed a little, not knowing how to answer. Time to sell a little fake story.

“Gil, these are Sam & Dean, my brothers.” Gil shook both men’s hands.

“Didn’t know you had brothers.” he noted.

“Long story…Anyway, they came to visit & stayed at our apartment. They kinda overheard Malcolm & I talking about the case. Sam, here, has the brains-“

“Hey!” Dean feigned hurt at your words.

“And he pieced everything together. We didn’t wanna waste time & before I even had the chance to call you, we had already caught him.” as soon as you finished, Malcolm joined in to help with your little white lie.

“Jonah was poisoned by the lead in the paint he was using. It can cause dissociative behavior that can be mistaken for possession.” thank God for Malcolm “Human Dictionary” Bright. Gil could not argue with this so he simply went back over to the rest of the team. Nice job.

“Thanks guys.” addressing Sam & Dean.

“So that’s it, huh?” Sam asked, sad that he knew he had to let you go again. Yet, he supported your decision.

“Hey, Malcolm?” Dean looked at him. “I wanna show you something, come on.” Malcolm followed Dean to the black car which left you alone with Sam.

“He’s gonna kill him, isn’t he?” Sam laughed at your words.

“Possibly.” then he turned serious again. “I miss you.” Sam confessed, his jaw clenching.

“I miss you, too, Sammy.” looking up at him, you continued. “And I’m sorry for disappearing off the radar. It’s just…when I left, this entire starting new thing took more time than I thought it would.”

“I get it & I’m not asking you to come back with us. I can see that you like it here. You’ve finally found your happiness & by the way Malcolm looks at you? He’s utterly in love with you, (Y/N). Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will, I promise. You, too. Call me when you’re starting the next apocalypse.” you joked with him. He then pulled you into a big hug, one that you had missed so much. Sam always gave the best hugs.

“What is it?” Malcolm asked Dean, nervous as to why he wanted to talk to him alone.

“Look, man, (Y/N)’s my little sister & I’d do anything for her. So if you ever hurt her…know that I’ll beat the crap outta you.” Malcolm gulped but found enough courage to answer him.

“I love (Y/N). I’d never to do anything to hurt her. I get why you worry, I do. But she’s safe here. I promise.”

“Hey Dean, go easy on him.” their heads snapped in the direction your voice was coming from. By the smile on your face, he knew you were joking. Sam & you reached the car.

“I’ll miss you.” approaching Dean, you were more than satisfied when he opened his arms for you to pull you into a hug. He pressed a soft kiss on top of your head before releasing you again.

“Malcolm promised me to keep you safe.”

“Did he now?” turning around, eyeing your boyfriend with a smirk.

“Check in with us, okay?” Dean grew serious.

“I will, I promise. You guys take care of yourselves, okay?” both men nodded. “Tell Cas I said hi. How are you two doing anyway?” you stopped briefly to wink at him which made Sam chuckle quietly. “And bring him next time.”

“Alright, goodbye.” Dean said, laughing at you, Sam joining him.

“Bye, guys.” you waved at them when they got into the car.

Leaning into Malcolm’s side, you could feel his arm sneaking around your waist to keep your close. For a few moments, you stood there in silence, watching the Impala slowly disappear out of your view.

“Do I need to be jealous of this Cas guy?” Malcolm asked all of a sudden & you broke out into laughter. His confused face was hilarious.

“Trust me, Mal. If you meet him, you’ll know that there’s no need to be jealous.” tears were threatening to escape your eyes. The simple image of you & Cas together made you laugh out loud.

“I guess I need to trust you on that.”

“Hey, remember what you said when you thought we wouldn’t need help solving this case?” you asked him, changing the topic entirely. His face showed you that he did, in fact, not remember.

“I told you so.” you smirked at him, enjoying how his smile slowly faltered. Rolling his eyes at you, he wanted to say a witty remark. You knew what he was trying to do but before he had the chance, you silenced him with a long, soft kiss. That always managed to do the job. Pulling away after a few seconds, you lovingly stared into his eyes. This moment could have been overly romantic. If it were not for you putting salt into his wound.

“I told you so.” repeating your previous words, you walked away from him, sarcastically smiling as you did so. You were right about this & Malcolm prepared himself to hear the same words over & over from now on.

Published (04/15/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @thefictionalgemini, @prodigalsonlovingbisexual, @octopus5555, @claudiaparker30, @the-unknown-fan-girl, @popcornanon, @jasminetea-andpaisho, @anatanotegami, @blackandwhitejoker (thanks for your support <3)

[renaerys]

I think I like the idea of 31 for the greens 💚

31. “You can bite me. I like it.”

Okay I admit this one toes the line with the innuendos, but I'm completely fine with that.

Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.

List of prompts

xxx

Buttercup had always known she had merch. As one-third of a former Superhero team, she was bound to accumulate fans over the years. Even now, with her crime-fighting days long behind her and her focus on making a living like any other normal adult, she occasionally encountered echoes of the past: a Girl Power! T-shirt tie-dyed in pink, blue, and green; a set of refrigerator magnets that spelled out her and her sisters’ names; even an old coloring book series full of cartoonish monsters and Superpowered little girls. It was all a little weird, a little cringe, but totally harmless.

Until Butch found out.

“Oh my god, I found your horcrux.”

The popsicle had melted and warped in freezer storage. The face belonged in an acid trip or a Silent Hill movie. Buttercup was sure some demon must have siphoned the ass-end of her soul to make this abomination. “That is the scariest thing I have ever seen.”

“Dude, this thing is amazing.” He licked Buttercup’s frozen popsicle likeness. “Oh my god, it’s cherry flavored.”

“Wow, what are you, fourteen?” Buttercup tried to leave, but Butch chased after her.

“Hey, hey Buttercup.”

“What?”

“Can you feel this?” He gave the popsicle a long lick up the length of its face.

“You are a crime against humanity, you know that?”

“C’mon, just try her!”

“Her? We’re not gendering the ice cream, Butch.”

“She didn’t mean that,” Butch soothed the melting treat.

Buttercup cut through the park on the way back to her office. Butch followed her.

“Okay, okay, but seriously, just try it. It’s kinda sweet, but it’s pretty decent.”

Buttercup eyed the popsicle. Perhaps it had once resembled her, if she were a cartoon, but now it was a mess of green and black and lumpy, bubble gum eyes. A bit of the face dribbled onto the grass.

This was a decision. Someone of sound mind woke up one day and the best idea they had was to make a popsicle inspired by her face. Someone said to themselves hey, I could sell this to some dumb kids or horny dudes and make a killing.

“You know, I should be getting royalties for that.”

Butch chewed on the chunk of hair-shaped popsicle he’d bitten off and his eyes went wide. “Oh shit, you’re totally right! We should sue the manufacturer!”

Or at least get them to discontinue the line so I never have to see this again.

Her phone buzzed. “It’s Ty. I have to get back to work.”

“I’m texting Blossom. I bet there’s someone we can sue.” The remainder of Butch’s popsicle melted into the grass as he typed out a message on his phone.

“Okay, whatever. See you later.”

Buttercup forgot all about her bizarre popsicle likeness as she buried herself in a case for work. Later that evening at the apartment she shared with Butch, she sank into the living room sofa ready to kick back. Butch came at her from behind and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Hey, you wanna Netflix and chill?”

Buttercup grinned. “Yeah. Grab me a beer?” She scrolled through her Netflix queue until Butch returned.

“Got you something special,” he said.

“What?”

It was another demented popsicle. This one’s eyes were completely uneven, and the mouth was too wide, and the hair line had run down into the face due to melting or demonic infestation. Buttercup stared at the face of her frosty doppelgänger and wondered what Dorian Gray had thought when he saw his painting, grotesque from years of absorbing his hedonism: bitch, I lived.

“Wanna try it? Blossom said she can file for an injunction against the manufacturer, so this might be your only chance before they discontinue the line.” Butch wagged the popsicle like a cat’s toy.

“You’re so weird, you know that?”

“Dude, you’re the one not freaking out about how you’re so famous and beloved that they made your face into candy! How cool is that? You’re like the Mona Lisa.”

“If a five-year-old drew her.”

“Hey, don’t go shitting on five-year-olds. I knew a few who punched major dick back in the day.”

Buttercup laughed. “This has to be in the top ten dumbest conversations we’ve ever had.”

“So you want some of this? What’s it gonna be? Please eat me, Buttercup!”

“Oh, come on. Don’t make that voice.”

“I’m so creamy going down.”

She wheezed. “Butch, Jesus Christ.”

“You can bite me. I like it.”

“I’m going to bite you if you don’t knock it off.”

“Bite down on my juicy, cherry center—”

Buttercup shoved a cushion at his face, and he fell onto the floor laughing.

“Noooo, Popsicle-Buttercup! She could’ve been worth millions one day!” he lamented the popsicle now on the floor and collecting rug fibers.

“Popsicle-Buttercup isn’t going to Netflix and chill with you, moron. Clean that up and I’ll get the beers.”

She went to the kitchen to get their drinks while Butch saw to the rug. When she tossed the bottle caps in the trash, however, she saw a bright, blue box crumpled at the top and grew suspicious. Setting the beers aside, she opened the freezer and found eleven more Powerpuff Pops chilling with the frozen french fries and ice cube trays. Misshapen versions of her sisters and herself stared back at her, their runny mouths smiling wide and black.

Buttercup closed the freezer door. “Goddamnit, Butch!”

He cackled like a lunatic when she tackled him on the sofa.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Dimension Jumping Pt. 5

Comforting a grieving hobbit and time get everyone ready to go out!

Via the genius idea from katzrfsoa / Kat88

There's been mention of the reader not wanting to take the groups out, for fear of the public's reaction... so what about a cosplay convention? it would give the Reader the perfect excuse to allow them out, and they would wear their original clothes 

----

This morning has been uneventful for the most part.

Breakfast passed by without issue and now everyone is off doing their own things.

You looked outside and took a peek in the guest room, but you still can't find him.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin are playing a board game you showed them; Legolas is doing his meditation sleep thing; Boromir and Aragorn are discussing something; and Gimli is stacking bread on Legolas' leg to see how long it takes until he notices.

Frodo, however, is missing at the moment.

Right as you were considering telling the others of his disappearance, however, you heard some shuffling from your hall closet.

You open the door carefully and take peer inside, not wanting to startle the small hobbit, and at first you don't see him.

There's more shuffling and you hear a quiet sniff, followed by soft sobs, and you then realize he's hiding behind the shelf.

The door makes a soft clicking sound when you close it, and right away the quiet cries cease. You didn't want to alert him with the door, you wanted to do it yourself, but it's too late now, so you just go with it.

"Frodo?" You call in a gentle voice, staying by the door incase he wants you to go.

"Y-Yes?' He calls back, not moving from his spot.

His voice is thick with emotion, and the sadness in his tone makes your heart ache painfully. And when you walk closer and see him huddled up behind the shelf, your heart breaks a little for him.

He hastily rids his cheeks of any evidence of his sorrows, though the puffiness around his eyes and constant sniffles don't much help his cause, and looks at you with a false smile.

"Frodo, why are you crying?" You ask with furrowed eyebrows, kneeling down in front of him so you may look at him at eye level (mostly).

"It's nothing." He tells you quickly, looking away from your compassionate face with the same sad frown on his lips.

When you don't move to get up or leave, his gaze slides back over to you and he realizes that you're not going to leave unless he straight up tells you to go away. This makes him sigh, but truthfully, he doesn't want you to go away. Not really. For having company in a time of sorrow always mends suffering.

"I... did not have a proper time to mourn Gandalf. I've been so caught up in the oddity that is this place that I almost forgot my sorrows altogether, but then this morning is all... came rushing back." He explains with a surprisingly even voice.

While he speaks you cross your legs and listen along intently, your hands folded neatly in your lap. When he finishes, you reach forward and place your hand atop his with a gentle touch, "I didn't know him, but I can tell he was very dear to you. Honestly, I can't offer much advice, but I can tell you that keeping it all bottled up inside is not a good idea."

He looks at you with that sad face when you speak, and it prompts you to continue, "Also, I know everyone else can be pretty overwhelming or they just don't understand, and I want you to know that I'm always here to listen if you're feeling down, okay?"

Your words draw a small smile from the grieving hobbit and it elicits a similar grin from you.

"Thank you, Y/N. I... actually do feel a little better."

"I'm glad."

---

After your discussion with Frodo you rejoin everyone back out in the main room and let him recollect himself, going right onto your laptop to get some work done.

You're idly scrolling through a scholarly article you need to research when you see it.

An advertisement for some sort of comic book, cosplay, convention... thing in the area (no wonder you've been seeing so many oddly dressed people recently).

At first you almost scroll past it, but then you get hit with the brick of knowledge and a lightbulb goes off in your head.

"Yes!" You scream, successfully scaring everyone in the room and Penny who is sitting with you for once. "Ohh, my god. This is freaking perfect!" You exclaim, clicking on the link to get some more information.

Your eyes practically soak up everything on the information page, and, once you've skimmed through all of it, you look up with a bright smile on your face.

Literally all of them are looking at you like you've grown two heads, but you only clap your hands together a few times. "Guys, I just had a huge brain moment!"

The joke goes over their heads as per usual, but you don't let that deter you.

"Huge brain moment?" Pippin asks in confusion, looking at his cousin like he thinks he heard it wrong or something.

"Yes! I've figured out a way to take everyone out!"

That certainly gets their attention.

"You have?" Sam asks exuberantly, dropping his game piece so he can turn towards you and pay perfect attention.

"I have, yes," you start, continuing once you're 100% sure they're all paying attention, "So here's the thing, I knew that I could take out you tall boi's without issue besides having to find a hat for Legolas here, and I could explain that Gimli here has dwarfism," you pause at that and realize it may be offensive to him, but you continue once more, "but I also knew that there's no way I can explain away the hobbits, and then I found this gem."

You turn the computer so it faces all of them, but they only look more confused.

"There's a convention thing in town for the next week, and it's the perfect opportunity for me to bring everyone out! We just have to dress up the hobbits a bit and pretend that they're children."

At your explanation you receive multiple pleased smiles, and it serves to make you feel even better about your idea. "And you can all wear your normal clothes, too. And if someone asks who you are... I'll figure out a game or something you guys can use as an alias."

"Are you sure that will work?" Aragorn asks with furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from his spot in your arm chair.

"Um, like, maybe 98%." You confirm with a shrug, "It's better than 88% though."

He doesn't seem like he disagrees with you, so you look back at your laptop again and start to look for ideas to make them more believable as humans.

---

3 hours of research later, and you've successfully compiled a completely fool proof plan to smuggle this merry band of bizarre boys out of your house.

What you've decided is that you'll put some makeup over Legolas' pointy ears to make them look more fake since the concept of elves is not lost in this world. Boromir and Aragorn can go as themselves, and you'll put some makeup on the hobbits much like you will Legolas (they'll be children elves since there are no hobbits in your world) and tell everyone who asks how they look so good that you're a professional makeup artist.

Gimli, fortunately for you, was the easiest to come up with something for next to the other two humans of this group. You can just tell people he has dwarfism and that's why he chose to go as a dwarf character.

Everything is in order except for what you're going to do, though you suppose you should match their theme and be some sort of renaissance, maiden, lady, thing. You'll figure it out, though you do need to make sure it's convincing like theirs.

You decided to, instead of putting it off, go ahead and start working on finding a costume to match theirs.

A couple of searches later and you come across a really pretty dress that looks to fit their style, and when you show it to them they give you the thumbs up, so you order it with express shipping so it should arrive tomorrow.

It's a lovely flowy medieval dress *just look up flowy medieval dress and go to images, there are some good examples there*, and you feel excited just looking at it. Of course, there's no guarantee that it'll be the best quality, but it's got great reviews and you certainly paid a hefty sum for it.

After that's done with you head to your bathroom to see what makeup you've got, and you find that you don't really have any theatrical/special effects makeup. You're going to need skin colored wax makeup, powders, and contour stuff.

You're no makeup artist, obviously, but luckily for you, your goal is to make them look less realistic, so it should be easy enough.

It's surprisingly easy to figure out what you need to make them as convincing as possible, and pretty soon you've got a nice little list going on that outlines each thing you need.

Since you don't want to delay anymore, you head out of your bathroom and grab your bag while putting on your shoes, "Legolas, I'm leaving now if you wanna come with." You suggest since he stated his desire to join you in the one of the last chapters (:o).

When you call his name he looks over at you quickly, smiling a bit at your offer, "Yes, but you said I need a hat."

"Oh yeah! I have one, just gimme a sec." You tell him, walking over to a drawer.

When you open said drawer, you find a grey beanie with ease and toss it over to him, "Here ya go. Make sure it covers your ears... and uh, tuck your hair up into it too if you don't mind."

He does as you say with ease and, surprisingly, he looks just as good with shorter hair as he does longer hair.

It sticks kinda awkwardly at first, so you waltz on over and gesture for him to crouch down so you don't have to reach up.

Once again he does as you request and leans down so you may fix it.

You adjust it a bit to make sure it won't fall first, and then you smooth it back a bit so it'll also look stylish. And once you're done you take a step back and smile at him brightly.

"All done! Let's go!"

---

He seemed rather fascinated in the way your car works first and foremost, but once you got him to look out his window instead of watching you, his excitement quickly turned into awe.

When you both get to the ULTA store he follows you without hesitation and asks some hushed questions about things he sees, like the light up signs, other passing cars, stoplights, and some other things.

You, of course, answer each question happily and lead him inside, holding the door open for him while he enters and looks around the brightly lit up makeup store.

Right away you head towards the general direction of the nose and scar wax (it's multi purpose, don't judge me), forgetting to make sure that Legolas follows you.

When it does occur to you, however, that the blond elf didn't come after you, you panic.

You turn in a circle and only stop when you see him standing with some ladies who practically have hearts in their eyes.

Unconsciously you breathe a sigh of relief and head over with the wax in your little basket, immediately reaching up to wrap your arm around his, "I got the first thing on my list, come on."

The girls stop their giggles and flirting as soon as you show up and look genuinely surprised.

You give them a smile and nod in acknowledgement, not wanting to make them feel bad over something so silly before turning with your arm still around his own and walking him over to look at some contour stuff and other things.

They make some snide comments when you turn your back about you being a 'clingy girlfriend' and 'not pretty enough to be with a model like that', but you only ignore it and relish in the fact that you didn't make them feel bad over something as silly as a cute guy in a makeup store.

"Why are those women talking about you like that?" He asks in a whisper, leaning down so only you will hear his question.

You look up at him with a bit or surprise since you didn't expect him to pick up on that, before you smile, "They're attracted to you, and they think that I was being selfish with taking you away from their advances."

"Selfish? Advances?" He looks confused, but you only smile and turn back to the display case.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Leggy my boy."

"Leggy?" He asks slowly, looking at you in confusion.

"Leggy." You confirm with a nod with a distracted hum.

It isn't much later that you have everything you need, and so you go to the checkout and buy everything.

"Going to the convention?" The girl at the counter asks with a smile.

You smile back and nod your head, glancing up at Legolas before looking back at her, "That obvious?"

"No of course not, just the items in your basket always fly off the shelves around convention time." She replies with a giggle, ringing up all your items.

"Well, that's fair." You muse, putting your card into the reader to pay for it.

Once everything is in order she hands you your receipt and adds, "Maybe I'll see you there."

"Maybe!" You chirp back happily, liking the nice conversation going on here.

"You and your boyfriend have a good day now!"

You elect to ignore that.

---

On the way home you pretend to not notice the black car following yours and make small talk with the elf, answering some more of his questions and speaking idly on different things.

"There are so many odd, interesting things here..." He comments after a while, glancing out the back window. "Are you aware that, that car has been following us for the past 10 minutes?"

You nod and hum as an answer, "Mmhm, it's just Brian. He's probably trying to figure out who you are."

The blond knits his eyebrows together and glances back to look at the car again, "Should I do something about it?"

"The only thing you can do is ignore it. He went from lowercase 's' stalker to uppercase 's' since you guys arrived, and it'll only get worse if you intervene." You mumble, trying not to look in the rearview mirror at him. "It's fine."

"You don't seem to think it's fine." He challenges in the same even tone, turning in his seat towards you.

Instead of answering his question you look at him while you stop at a light and grumble, "I told you to put your seatbelt on."

"It's uncomfortable."

"I don't care."

"I will be fine."

"Not if we get into a crash, you won't."

The two of you stare each other down before he slowly reaches up and buckles his belt, never breaking eye-contact.

"Good boy." You coo in a way-too sweet voice.

"Anyways, I know we said as much before, but you needn't worry about that man while we're here." He continues despite your obvious subject change.

"I know." Your reply is softer and less defensive this time, for you really do appreciate it, "Thank you."

He looks surprised at your sudden gratitude, and his expression shows as much "For what?"

"For being you. For looking out for me. All of you."

This time he smiles and says no more.

---

When you both get back to your house you immediately put everything in your bathroom and get onto your laptop to view some techniques on theatrical and movie makeup, Pippin and Merry on either side of you while they view through the pictures and videos with you.

"That one looks interesting." Merry pipes up suddenly, pointing at a person to wolf makeup transformation.

"Yep, and way past anything I can do."

This pattern of going through pictures and viewing clips goes on for a little while until they two hobbits depart to have lunch, meanwhile you continue on so that tomorrow will be a success.

You're both excited and nervous at the same time, wanting to see how it'll all turn out but also dreading it incase something goes wrong.

You know the most important thing is to have a positive mindset about it, but it's kinda hard sometimes during your more anxious moments.

Also, there's the issue of Brian possibly following all of you...

Nah, that'll be a problem to think on for tomorrow.

"What time will we leave tomorrow?" Aragorn asks from his usual spot on the rocking chair, Penny still nestled in his lap as per usual.

"Around the morning. I bought the tickets already so we won't have to stand in line for too long... Hopefully."

"Thank you for working so hard so that we may see more of your world." He comments suddenly, stroking his hand down her fluffy back.

You tilt your head to the side and smile a bit, "You don't have to thank me."

"No, I do. You have seen to our every need and we no doubt pose to be a huge burden. Thank you, really."

His words make you flush slightly, and you look away shyly.

You've grown to care about all of them, so of course you would do anything to keep them comfortable at this point. More than anything you're just glad they see how much you're trying to make things easy on them. It feels nice being recognized for your efforts.

Plus, the added protection from Brian is pretty sweet.

"Anything for you guys."

[albatris]

ok ok alriiiight ok so the plot of ATDAO

this post is not, like........... well, it’s not gonna be a blurb or a summary or a nice neat synopsis, this is not Professional Writeblr Business, this is, this is, uhhhh

this is like drunk house party logan rambles

works best if you imagine ur just like “hey man how’s it going” super casual and I grasp you firmly by the shoulders and look you dead in the eye and just ramble all of this without taking a single breath

could I have explained in a nice neat concise "elevator pitch" sort of way? probably. mind ur business. that’s not how we do things here at albatris.org

anyway the purpose of this post is “hey people seem to know a lot about the characters and the worldbuilding and the premise but have no clue what happens in the actual story” so I’m not going to be talking about said characters and worldbuilding and premise in depth

in terms of rambles, that stuff’s been covered! this post assumes you know what Ports are, n what the nature of the ATDAO apocalypse is, vaguely what the MCs are like as people......... though I can fetch this info for you if you like

but yeah if you are coming into this post with zero prior ATDAO knowledge........... deeply deeply from the bottom of my heart: sorry

also if this is your first time experiencing One Of These Rambles

also @safe-in-the-steep-cliffs​ and @siarven​ I am tagging you because you said you would like to be tagged and also hi and also I hope y’all knew what you were in for

anyway without further ado

(visual representation of my approach to this rant, not of how complicated my plot actually is)

(my plot is not that complicated)

ALRIGHT

there are two viewpoint characters! and two plotlines which converge near the end of the story, but honestly there’s a very real possibility I will decide these are two separate books meant as companion stories to each other because I love making things difficult for myself yeehaw

ATDAO’s co-protags are Tris and Noa, best buds four years and counting. their friendship is one of the single most important aspects of the story, n the ongoing love and trust they have for each other despite the way unfolding events force their relationship to change is integral to the themes and making the heart of the story what it is. I will now proceed to not mention this friendship for the entire remainder of this post. they’re bros. that’s all u need to know. listen. listen. I have a lot to cover

so yeah, ur first key player is Tris Greer, whose parents are dicks but whose siblings are chill. most notably of said siblings there is Jacob, older brother by thirteen years, whom Tris believes is just about the coolest person on the entire planet. this plotline kicks off when Jacob gets caught in the midst of a freak car accident that kills a dude and wrecks a street corner and also somehow causes Jacob to just kind of................. blip out of existence entirely and without a trace?

n Tris is understandably horrified and distressed by Very Much All Of This, but hey, at least there are responsible adults who can look into this obviously Port-related weird disappearance and figure this mess out, right?

INCORRECT

the relevant interdimensional authorities are brought in to suss out the situation and these authorities are kind of like “hmmmm idk about this” but are all set to take Tris at least somewhat seriously until they learn the following:

that Jacob had already been reported missing to police in his home state three days earlier

that Jacob was in the midst of several ongoing personal crises and at least one nervous breakdown

that Jacob was allegedly tangled up in some real weird shit that would more than account for a disappearance under suspicious circumstances

that Tris is schizophrenic, prone to hallucinations, confusion, memory issues and quote unquote “letting his imagination and anxiety get the better of him”, and precisely zero people can actually corroborate his story that Jacob was even there are the time of the accident to begin with

and after some back-and-forth and Looking Into The Evidence pretty much everyone in any position of authority comes to the conclusion that this is just Ordinary Regular People Crimes and whatever happened to Jacob had nothing to do with weird apocalyptic energies, and that Tris is (at best) stressed out and delusional or (at worst) lying through his teeth because he knows more than he’s letting on

so Tris is forced to hop pretty quick from “I’m sure someone will handle this” to “no one believes me but I’m sure if I can find some concrete proof they’ll listen and someone will handle it” to Well Fuck I Guess That Someone Is Me

cue bizarre reality-hopping fantasy quest, which is ten times easier said than done when most of the time Tris is terrified enough just, like, going to the supermarket

he enlists the help of his new classmate Shara, amateur paranormal investigator and professional weird-bullshit enthusiast, who agrees to help him puzzle out what the fuck happened to Jacob in exchange for his assistance in mapping out Adelaide’s interdimensional “fault lines” as part of her ongoing quest to track down the source of the apocalypse

she’s got big fuckin dreams, ok, go hard or go home

slso worth noting at this point that there HAS been an uptick in Ports and their related reality-bending strangeness in Adelaide recently which is why this is of particular interest to her currently. gotta find out What Makes The Weirdness Tick, gotta find out Why The Sudden Extra Weirdness

..........and also Kai is there

Kai has no nice neat reason to get involved with the plot, Kai just likes drama and being all up in people’s personal business. Tris brings them on board for one single afternoon like “hey I will pay you some money to come to my house and fix my fucked up phone so I can listen to an interdimensional voicemail” but forgot the apparently key addendum “and then leave”

their first three chapters of knowing each other is basically Tris being like “stop inviting yourself into my house we are not friends” and Kai being like “that’s a rude thing to say to your friend. also your sister gave me the netflix password and I used your kitchen to bake pastries feel free to help yourself”

but yeah so Tris’s story mostly focuses on his quest to figure out where Jacob got yeeted to and how to get him safely home (y’all probably know a bit about The Unreality already maybe?), whilst also dealing with rising family tensions, whatever shifty stuff Jacob was involved with prior to his disappearance, and his own creeping doubts about his perceptions of reality

n I’m also saying flat out it’s not a plot that’s going the “oh the whole thing was just a delusion all along” route because ew

his psychosis is a fairly involved part of his character but the explorations around it are more to do with, like......... the difficulties he has in trusting himself and whether he has the luxury of letting himself get swept into some Big Weird Implausible Adventure when this has extremely different implications for him than it would someone else. n eventually to how his success and survival is not ~in spite of~ but specifically because of the different way he understands and interprets the world and the skills he’s developed

THAT TANGENT WAS A PERSONAL RANT IT WAS NOT RELEVANT I just have words to say on the subject of how psychosis is treated in fiction and didn’t want people jumping to the “none of it is real” conclusion anyway ok moving on

ur SECOND key player is Noa Yun, who has rather a lot on her plate right now. she’s broke as fuck and her mum is sick and her car is making Noises and she’s not getting enough hours at her job at Not-IKEA and everyone is on her back about her failing studies as if that’s a thing she has the energy to care about. feeling rather backed into a corner by life’s bullshit and her financial situation, she blatantly lies her way into a field job at the Department of Interdimensional Instabilities, because A) surely it can’t be THAT bad, and B) what does she have to lose?

so more or less what she’s doing is the equivalent of emergency services for Port-related weirdness, it’s going out and dealing with highly unstable otherworldly energies head on, navigating Weird Phenomena and bendy patches in reality......... it is, among other things, a job that’s relatively easy to get into because no one wants to touch it with a ten foot pole unless they absolutely have to

n the DII is a whole other post, this shit has lots of different functions and levels and branches and corruption and secrets and a tendency to view workers who have to go out and deal with the brunt of the apocalypse head-on as vaguely expendable and I’ve talked about it a bit before and in more Serious Words

things kinda kick off for her when in true Noa fashion she hurls herself into a dangerous situation to help out a coworker, n enters a pretty standard issue “overlap” where the barriers between universes are a little fucky, but hey, she seems to come out of it with nary a scratch, so it’s reasonable to assume everything is fine, right?

INCORRECT AGAIN

she basically gets some whacked-out otherworldly energies latched onto her that are now following her through her everyday life, and it turns out she’s starting to bend the reality around her the way certain types of Ports do, which is! obviously not ideal! she’s not exactly a Port herself, because she’s pretty sure that’s impossible, but it’s clear capital s Something happened to her in that overlap, and she doubts it’s good news. and to make matters even more disconcerting, she’s now being dogged at every step by strange visions of a child who speaks in an unfamiliar language and who seems Real Fuckin Pissed at her

so her thing is basically “I acquired fucked up reality-bending powers against my will and they might be lowkey killing me ‘cause Ports are notoriously unstable like that and also I’m haunted for some godforsaken reason” which all somehow ended up being, like, the least interesting part of her plotline for me lmao

oh and Noa also enlists the help of Shara, Because Ghosts

anyway yeah so her search to find out what’s happening to her re: Weird Children, being a Port-adjacent something-or-other, and whether there’s a way to stop her own unravelling leads her to (rogue computer programmer? mad scientist? general shifty bastard?) Laurence Marrick Thiele, who claims to have suffered a similar affliction in the past and now does some real interesting research on the subject. n this guy. well. he’s got some fuckin stuff going on

he definitely knows more about the nature of Ports than he should. also is he actually researching what he says he’s researching? also what’s with all the weird tech? also did he just straight up murder that guy Avery? all will be revealed later, maybe, if I feel like it

but yeah at about the same time as Noa goes “actually fuck this you’re shady as hell I’m out” she stumbles into, like, The Actual Reality of what Marrick is up to re: manipulating Ports and interdimensional doorways for his own gain, and the various ways this spells bad news not only for her but potentially for the entire city and anyone unfortunate enough to get caught in the crossfire, and she shifts gear to “actually you know what I’m gonna kick your ass”

there are various reasons for this, but first and foremosterly you have to understand that Noa’s got a fuckload of pent-up rage and she will bring it in full force the moment you say some stupid shit like “some people are expendable” or “it’s inevitable for the greater good”

(there’s also a fun ongoing subplot with her work at the DII where she and her team are investigating a string of strange illnesses with bizarre symptoms that appear to be spreading via obscure radio stations so that’s. happening. I guess?)

but yeah the main story here mostly follows Noa’s attempts to undermine Marrick, bastard supreme, and find a way to fuck him up before he goes, like, Full Cartoon Supervillain, n also like........... her attempts to keep up her work at the DII despite her rising paranoia that the teammates she’s growing to care about will notice her increasingly unstable state and the fact that she’s all tangled up with the very forces they’re meant to be thwarting. n along the way discovering the reality of what happened to her in The Aforementioned Overlap Incident and about her visions and such

so that’s all that. did that make sense

n she’s got a whole arc going on about trust and learning to lean on others, like, she comes into this story as a very standoffish person with lots of paranoia, she’s spent much of her life feeling like she can only rely on herself, n she’s. well. yeah, like I said, she’s got a lot of anger at the world and at the various systems that have failed her and her loved ones, n the story puts her in a position to become even more isolated

and her plotline isn’t so much “you have no reason to be angry or afraid” or her learning to Not Be, It’s more, like........... yeah you have every fucking right to be furious and of course you’re afraid! but there are people around you who love you and who will jump at the chance to defend you and who will help you carry the weight of your anger and grief and none of this needs to be yours to bear alone which is extremely cheesy

which applies to both her Weird Supernatural Goings-On as well as her regular ordinary life goings-on

I feel like Alice and Jet deserve a mention for Noa’s plotline but also this went on and on too long already so. well. Alice and Jet exist! yep. they work with Noa at the DII. I have things to say about them. I will not be saying them today

and uhhhhhh

in general, for Tris, his plotline, you wanna think, like, fantasy/adventure vibes which veer pretty sharply into horror, and for Noa you wanna think...... kinda, sci-fi mystery conspiracy vibes with a dash of some superhero bullshit maybe except not really

and that

pretty much is it I think

also the fact that Kai just invites themself into the plot for funsies and then is dragged kicking and screaming into caring about themself and making positive changes in their life means there was no convenient place in this post to be like

"oh there's also a whole major subplot about a time loop"

but there's also a whole major subplot about a time loop

goodnight! thanks for coming to....................... whatever this was! have a nice saturday everyone

[xbunnybunz]

Daybreak (2/?) [Wolf Keum x Reader x Alex Go)

Summary: The day brings to you Alex Go, and in the night, Wolf Keum. Your past is inescapable. They build you up and tear you back down, but this is what you need to survive.

Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama

-----

When you wake up to the alarm in the morning, the ringing thrums a migraine in your head that could only be a hangover.

You blearily open your eyes and look to your alarm clock to the right, the intense sunlight piercing through your curtains further inflaming your headache.

7:10AM

You roll over and slap the snooze button, flopping back down onto your back with a sigh.

You lay in bed for a while, running through your classes for the day. You didn’t recall having any tests or quizzes, so you take the day to heal from your drinking binge instead.

The next time you open your eyes, it’s 1:43PM.

The sunlight has dwindled from sweeping over your face to sitting shyly in the corner of your room, refracting through the window and streaking a rainbow onto your wall.

Wolf and Alex Go flipped through your mind like a stop-motion movie, and only looking back on it did you realize what entirely different characters both were.

Wolf was cold. Everything about him was so goddamn cold, his stare, his presence, his mannerisms. But Alex Go was warm in a soft way, warm in the way the sun would feel washing across your face at the beach.

You wondered what business fate had in bringing both boys to you in one night but abandoned the sentiment as soon as it popped into your head.

You were tired of hearing about fate and of destiny, it reminded you too much of what he used to say. Life was fickle, and you knew it, lolling from one side to another, one moment in your favor, the other against.

Heaving a sigh, you push yourself to sit up and swing your legs over the bed.

Your shadow played across the floor and traversed to your desk, messy with the clutter of books, journals, and half-written novels.

You pay them no attention and stroll over to the closet, pulling a shirt from a hanger to wear to the local food mart. A grumble erupts from your stomach and find yourself salivating at the possibilities of different ramen flavors or day-old cold cuts.

You head out to the market after freshening up, and the trip there takes a little less than a few minutes.

The elderly lady at the register gives you a sweet smile and welcomes you, and you return the gesture with a bow. Your eyes skim the wall of chips and baked pastries until your gaze lands on the shelf you were looking for.

You peruse the selection of gourmet instant ramen, tapping your chin thoughtfully and pondering the root of all human struggle, beef flavor or chicken flavor?

The door chimes distantly and a few people walk in, exchanging greetings with the cashier.

You close your eyes and let the sound of others around you seep into your soul. It was days like this that everything felt normal again, like time had finally begin to move forwards again. You craved it, but always knew this relief never lasted for long.

You open your eyes and see the slight furrow of your brows in reflection of the vending machine beside you. You also notice a pair of legs trailing up to a familiar white and blue uniform, and whip around.

“Alex Go?”

“Hey!” He smiled, and even in the blue-hued light of the fluorescent bulbs, he shone like the midday sun. “I thought I recognized you, but I couldn’t be sure.”

You turn to face him and rub your arm, giving him a tiny grin. “I knew we’d be seeing each other around, but this soon? You sure you not stalking me?”

You reach out to give him a playful punch, and he barely budges.

“Stalking?” he seems genuinely taken aback until he sees the look on your face. “I mean, if I was stalking you, I’d hope you hit harder than that!”

He laughs and the sound is melodious, boisterous, but not grating. The way his shoulders shake mesmerizes you for one, two, three seconds.

“Hey, you’re lucky I didn’t use this hand instead!”

You wave your right fist at him and pretend to swing, and right on beat, he feigns impact with a dramatic pop of his shoulder.

There’s a light feeling in your chest, and it flutters with each beat.

When was the last time you spoke to anyone like this, the last time you spoke to anyone at all?

“What are you doing here?” He asks, green eyes alight and curious. “Other than looking at instant noodles, I mean.” He gestures to the shelf you were both in front of, and you shrug.

“I had a pretty shitty hangover, so I skipped class and stayed home instead.”

You feel a bit abashed admitting that aloud, but continue regardless.

“I also forgot I don’t have a lot of food back in the apartment, so I had to crawl out and get my rations for the week.”

His gaze is gentle but piercing.

You hadn’t noticed yesterday in the shroud of night, but his hair was exceptionally dark. You wouldn’t liken it to the pitch-black darkness of nighttime, but to the gentle shadows cast by foliage on a peaceful afternoon at the park.

His eyes were a lighter variant of green, like the pale olive of leaves right after the end of winter, just before the start of summer. It was a delicate kind of beauty that felt tender to behold, and you cherished it every moment you could.

“Cutting? Come on, there can only be one delinquent here.”

He bumped his shoulder into yours, but it was mostly your shoulder colliding with his bicep.

“And I’m no professional, but I don’t think cup noodles are the best thing to eat during a hangover.”

You let your fingers dance over the flimsy cardboard packaging, humming.

“Well, it’s the fastest and easiest. So unless you’re going to help me, I suggest shutting your trap.”

You poke him in the chest and your breath gets shallow when you feel lean muscle under the modest uniform.

Alex flusters as well, though much more outwardly. He clasps his hands over his chest where you jabbed him, and his voice comes out an octave higher than usual.

“What? What do you need help with?”

He looks to you for an answer and finds you brandishing two boxes, one chicken and the other beef, trying desperately to hide your awkward reaction with an equally as bizarre question.

“Noodles. Fresh, hot, preserved noodles. Chicken or beef?”

You don’t really care what flavor he chooses but you hope the diversion works.

Alex falters a bit at the sudden change in topic and mood, but much to your relief, eventually eases his sights on the boxes in your hands. He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but he can’t stop the cocky smile from overtaking his features. He places a hand on your shoulder and raises an eyebrow.

“Uhm, duh?” He gestures to the box on the right. “Chicken.”

You beam at him and put beef back on the rack, plucking a few more chicken ramens off the shelf.

“You, my good sir, are a man of good taste.”

Alex drops his hand from your shoulder and winks at you with a chuckle, his words igniting a fire in your cheeks.

“Oh trust me, I know.”

You can’t stop the smile that creeps across your reddened face. “Don’t be coy with me, Alex Go. I still remember the way you stuttered yesterday.”

“Coy? Who’s being coy?” He laughs and feigns ignorance, but his jittery feet, bobbing this way and that, give him away.

He eyes the fridge behind you and sighs, shoulders slumping almost comically.

“Shit, I almost forgot why I came here.”

He busies himself with grabbing handfuls of ice cream, and you peer at him curiously. He catches your stare and explains himself as he counts the number of cones he has.

“I’m on snack duty for the group today, those lazy bums were ‘too busy’ teaching Gray and Eugene how to play pools to come out with me.”

He steps away from the fridge and closes the door with his hip, the suction of air making a fleeting ‘thwump.’

“They’re just broke and won’t admit it, fucking losers.” He says this, but there’s a smile on his face. You smile with him, because now seems like a good excuse to be happy.

You both walk to the register and Alex goes first, but still waits until you have everything in a bag.

When you step outside, the sun is intense but warm. You have to squint to see anything, and when you look at Alex you see he’s doing the same thing. He catches your eye, and you both laugh at each other until your stomachs hurt.

“I guess this is where we part ways.” Alex says, still slightly out of breath, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Yeah, guess so.” You wring your hands a bit, feeling a bit jittery at the thought of returning to solitude.

Alex hesitates too but you barely have time to register it before he freaks out, seeing the time on a clock hanging from a nearby shop.

“Holy crap! I’ve been gone for that long? Ben’s gonna chew my ass out!”

Alex grabs your right hand to shake it and misses the way you flinch.

“It was so nice seeing you again! I just feel like we kind of click, yaknow? If that makes sense.”

He retracts his hand and ties a knot on his bag, he’s moving and talking so fast you can’t keep up. You’re still stuck on how he says you both click, because you think so too and you’re so glad he feels the same--  and you don’t want to go home and you don’t want to be alone.

But he’s taking off before you can even understand he was saying goodbye.

“I’ll see you later! Get home safe!”

He waves and takes off charging, and he reminds you of a soaring jet.

There’s a noise in your throat, but no words come out.

Your hands clench and unclench, heart still hammering from when he took your palm in his.

You don’t want to wait to see him again, you think. You don’t want to leave it up to chance, or fate, or whatever the fuck they called it.

How long have you waited for someone to hear you? To see you? To feel you?

“Wait!” You shout, and it pushes all the air from your lungs.

You give yourself half a second to inhale then take after him, the plastic bag with your noodles tugging on your wrist.

“Alex!”

By some miracle, he hears you and turns around, stopping short in his sprint and waving at you.

He cups his hands over his mouth and shouts something you can’t hear over the whistling of the wind and the rustling of the bag at your side.

When you finally catch up to him, you’re totally winded. You wonder what kind of superhuman stamina Alex had because he didn’t seem to be struggling at all.

You place your hands on your knees and double over, taking deep breaths of air that burn your lungs but make you feel so goddamn alive.

“Woah there!”

Alex braces you with two hands on your arms.

“I told you I’d wait for you. Why’d you keep running like that?”

“Give me your number.”

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, and his hands fly off your body.

“H-huh?”

Your voice comes out raspy and weak. You’re only able to speak between inhales, but it doesn’t stop you from repeating yourself.

“Give me. Your number.”

Alex’s bewildered expression greets you when you look up, face red from exertion and embarrassment. Upon seeing your ruffled state, Alex makes a weird noise at the back of his throat and reddens as well.

“O-oh. I thought I misheard you…” He swallows thickly and rubs the back of his neck again. “Did you run all the way here to ask for that?”

You give him a look and drop your head again, giving one last exhale before rising again.

“Yeah, I did.”

Alex’s blush spreads to his ears, and his green gaze flickers from you to whatever thing wasn’t you. His dark hair tousles in the wind, and he rubs his nose.

“Oh wow. I mean you didn’t need to sprint, I’d be flattered regardless.”

He gives you another smile, and you notice that when he’s nervous his smiles are close-lipped. Either way, it warm your chest.

“I was just afraid I couldn’t catch up to you.”

He reaches for his phone and extends it to you after unlocking it, and you try hard to ignore the background he has of a tall, tan redhead face-first on the floor at a bowling alley.

“I would’ve waited.”

You type your number into his phonebook and call it, waiting until the buzz of your phone resounded from your pocket.

“I wanted to be sure.”

You hand the phone back to him. Your fingers brush and you don’t miss the way he jolts a bit.

“Right.”

He shifts a bit back and forth, like he couldn’t decide between staying or going. Or maybe you were just hoping that was the case.

You notice the bag he’s holding is dripping something, and you point it out to him.

“Oh crap-!” He opens the bag and is relieved to find its just condensation, but remains jumpy.

“Ah, thank god. But it’ll be the ice cream next. I really gotta go this time, I’ll see you!”

He takes off for a bit, and you watch, baffled, as he stops short and runs back to you, jogging in place. The condensation from the bag flies off and hits your arm.

“And uhm- I’ll call you.”

You blink in surprise, and can’t help the bubble of laughter that erupts from your lips.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, Alex Go.”

He returns the smile and it’s radiant as ever. It leaves you warm when he turns to leave, warm when his back is just a speck in the distance, and warm still when he’s out of your sight.

Alex Go, you think. Your fingers flex a bit at your side. And you smile.

[cynthiaandsamus]

Custom Toonami Block Week 79 Rundown

Code Geass: Lelouch is establishing the official United States of Fuck Imperialism which is like the UN but actually does stuff, plus he has to deal with the fact that CC’s lost her memory and is acting like a demure slave girl harem choice from a VN. Charles is still trapped in the Human Instrumentality Shadow Realm so everyone figures this is a great time to unify everyone against Britannia. Kallen beats the shit out of Suzaku for being a dick to her all this time and the Knight of Ten is making his rounds because they realize they forgot to give him any buildup and he’s going to be a miniboss later so they have to cram all his being a dick personality into like five minutes while all the Knights of the Round assemble to prepare for an attack on Japan once the National Federation is formed. Llyod and Cecile for some reason enhanced the Guren for Suzaku even though he’s clearly more used to the Lancelot but apparently they enhanced it too much and made it a death machine like the Talgeese in Gundam Wing so Suzaku has to stick with the Lancelot. Looks like the Guren will have to sit and collect dust unless a certain pilot is rescued and then immediately has a convenient upgrade. Amazingly all the countries go along with everything Zero says and give up their militaries and have the Black Knights be the official military of the Federation. I don’t know how that works given that the Black Knights have been struggling to fight off one nation’s military idk how it’s supposed to substitute for a dozen nations’ military but I guess they conscript support and troops from the other nations or something. Charles comes back on the tv after the Federation is formed and is all “Awww what a cute little UN you have, fuck off bro.” which you’d think this’d be the perfect time for him to just out Lelouch as Zero and wreck the Black Knights’ morale but he doesn’t for some reason and they’re just gonna fight. Lelouch is freaking out and knows that having everyone want to murder the Britannian royal family includes Nunally so he calls Suzaku who just straight up goes “Bro cut the crap are you Zero or not?” and after so much plotting and scheming Lelouch just comes right out with it. Suzaki agrees to protect Nunally as long as Lelouch meets him alone at the Kururugi Shrine where this all began.

Inuyasha: This is another one of those Modern Day filler episodes which are always fun. There’s just something about Inuyasha running around in modern Japan being Spider-Man and saving people and catching bank robbers on the way to deliver Kagome’s lunch that’s so thoroughly entertaining. Basically Inuyasha spends this whole episode jittery that everyone’s so chill and ready to relax after Naraku just got away and is probably an inch from death but after a big adventure in the modern era where Kagome is as usual unprepared for her test, he ends up passing out on the bed after insisting a little battle with Naraku wouldn’t exhaust him. It’s a really cute little episode to let everyone bide some time and reflect on the past arc now that we’re starting a new wave of filler before we get to the Band of Seven and Mt. Hakurei stuff.

Yu Yu Hakusho: The first match of the tournament is about to begin and Botan, Shizuru, and Keiko come in with Koenma who is sick of baby jokes and puts on his bishonen disguise to impress everyone. There’s some neat lore about how they gave Koenma the guest team every year to bribe him into not shutting down the tournament without giving him anything of value and how the bloody show of the Dark Tournament pacifies the demons so they kill fewer humans, so that’s cool. Since Yusuke is still passed out, Kuwabara is de facto Captain and decides on simple one on one matches while the other team Captain just kinda roasts an eight of the crowd to see if it’ll wake Yusuke up. Kuwabara’s in the first match versus Prototype Killua, complete with afterimages and yo-yo tricks. They size each other up for a while and Kuwabara shrugs off getting his fucking neck broken surprisingly well while they go back and forth with “Well I can track YOU better” for a while. Togashi really loves his yo-yos of death so those have Kuwabara on the ropes and turn him into a fucking kite ready to slam back down into the arena, so yeah, Kuwabara’s having a rough time of it.

Fate Zero: Waver’s been having strange dreams about Iskandar, and not the ones people usually have about him. So he goes to get a basic history lesson on the historical figure that’s been chilling on his couch for a few weeks and spending all his money on xbox live arcade. They also go through all the ridiculously obvious historical inaccuracies and Iskandar’s just like “idk bro, I’m here so the book must be wrong” which is hilarious because Fate also does this with more modern historical figures that we have pictures of and shit so they basically sit there saying all historians have no idea what they’re talking about and gaslighting the field of history as a whole. On the way back Waver’s upset that Iskandar’s so awesome that it basically takes any effort on his part to win and it won’t be an actual achievement despite the fact that they’ve taken out like… one servant, MAYBE, and most of the other historical figures are equally over the top. But still Iskandar says that if your aspirations are big enough it doesn’t matter how big or small you are, everyone’s tiny in the grand scheme of things and clawing at greatness you can’t truly perceive is what matters. Also Caster and his boy have found the wreck they made of their workshop of dead bodies and are kinda fucked up about it but also ready to fuck up more people because God sucks or some shit. So Caster summons a Bloodborne monster which you think more people would notice and mention during Shirou’s time, like nobody in UBW ever said “Hey remember like seven years ago when a giant Bloodborne monster appeared in the river?” so I’m guessing there’s some kind of perception blocking going on. But yeah everyone’s gonna jump on the Bloodborne Monster next time for the season premiere.  

Konosuba: So we pick up where we left off and Kazuma is working off his debt by… killing more toads. Wow this world really is like a video game, we get the same five enemies over and over again. However they’re fucked without Darkness throwing herself into monster orifices looking for a good time so Yunyun has to save them. We already met Yunyun in the OVA so it’s kinda weird to be re-introduced to her here in basically the same way but their relationship is basically like Gai and Kakashi if they only did the lame dorky challenges Kakashi suggested when he’s too lazy to think of a good one. Also there’s a cat now, I don’t think that really comes to anything, just a scene of Megumin going “we have a cat now” and everyone’s like “kay”. Kazuma and Megumin play Naked Chicken to see who can get more naked before the other backs down and end up taking a bath together because they’re both stubborn assholes. Also we get a quick snippet of Yunyun and Megumin’s backstories which you can basically make Yunyun’s the swing scene from Naruto (idk why Yunyun is bring out the Naruto references in me today) and Megumin is stealing bread like Les Miserables in increasingly bizarre and disgusting ways because she’s ridiculously poor or some shit.

Sailor Moon Crystal: So turns out that Usagi and Mamoru BOTH had their shots with the ‘fucks everything up’ sword with a pocketwatch and… the discarded gems of the four knights? Idk how that works given they were humans and also dead but what baffles me more is that both Usagi and Mamoru very obviously did not get hit by the sword but decided to fall down dead and not move for a couple minutes despite their shots very much being blocked and there being no blood. Anyway Queen Metalia has the crystal, bullshit is happening, 1000 years of darkness, you’ve seen Xiaolin Showdown, you know the drill. The remaining four Guardians get a cute little flashback of Usagi saying what she likes about them and then they give up their lives to revive her inside the dark energy blob of Queen Metalia and crystals and lights and shit happens and swords and wands are pulled out of nowhere and you know how a final boss goes, they beat it with the power of believing in themselves and shit like that. Also apparently the only difference between sealing Metalia away and killing her is hitting the giant bullseye on her forehead so yeah, hopefully she’s down for good this time. I don’t want to complain because this show was genre-defining but it’s hard to find things to say about something so generic and milktoast, it’s the Seinfeld problem where there’s been so many more interesting iterations that it’s just kinda “get on with it already” at this point. The only real markedly noticeable thing about it is how plainly and unashamedly it is about being a power fantasy for teen girls, and there’s something to that, harmless power fantasies can be fun but it just feels like the physical mechanics of this kind of progression being “She feels this shit REALLY HARD” is less exciting than some of the alternatives

Durarara!!: It’s the big Masaomi backstory episode and we get the whole deal of how he formed the Yellow Scarves and got into a relationship with Saki because Izaya wanted to orechestrate a gang war because that’s what Izaya does all day is orchestrate gang wars. It’s kind of amazing how many kids in this show are like “I don’t know how it happened but one thing led to another and suddenly I was at the head of one of the largest gangs in the city” like they kinda really yadda yadda over how that actually happens. But anyway Saki gets hurt in the gang war and Kadota’s gang has to save her because Masaomi’s adrenaline wears off at the last second and he can’t try and rush in and save her. I mean Dota’s van got there first anyway so how much he’d have been able to help would be doubtful but he feels bad about not even being able to try and Izaya says that fear and failure of his past will dominate his future actions which is exactly what he’s doing by letting his paranoia and frustration lead him to a war on the Saika army. Dota-chin tells him to face up to it and stop running or live with the shame of lying to Saki but Masomi can’t do that and his shame and determination to reverse the situation leads everyone into chaos as Anri discovers his secret.

[glassbangtan]

Jungkook is Typing... {Jungkook x Reader}

Words: 21.1k

Summary: You and Jungkook met online when you were only fourteen years old. Neither of you thought meeting up would be a possibility, until you’re hired as Big Hit’s new editor. 

Genre: mild smut, angst, fluff. 

Warning: sexual scenes (but nothing graphic)

Notes: masterlist 

---

You and Jungkook met online.

   This is where most people roll their eyes, close the book and move on. It's this little pinprick of information that makes people turn a blind eye and assume the absolute worst.

   In truth, you never really blamed them for this mindset.

   You were only fourteen when you started getting into online gaming, and it wasn't like it was some massive deal at the time. Everyone was doing it; World of Warcraft, Dungeons and Dragons, Minecraft Online were all common topics of conversation amongst your year ten class, with people sharing server pins and usernames in a similar way to how they used to share sweets when the teacher wasn't looking. It was no surprise to you – or anyone else – when you asked your parents for a computer for Christmas, and quickly got hooked on the game Prisons of Terror.

    It was all you ever talked about, because – in truth – it was all you ever did. You got home from school, threw your bag on the floor and darted to your room. Some days, you didn't even bother saying hello to your mother in fear of someone logging onto the online server before you and getting all the weaponry you'd stashed away in an unlocked chest. You simply could not let that happen. Over one hundred and twenty five hours of hard work were not going to waste just so you could make idle chat with the woman who lived downstairs.

     Your parents never questioned it – as stated, this wasn't some new phenomenon, and you didn't have a problem. You were quite capable of logging out of the game when the server was quiet, and you only spoke about it when someone else was willing to engage in conversation. Other than that, most people saw you as a fairly capable, intelligent fourteen year old – normal.

     But this little passing fling with Prisons of Terror grew when GoldenJeon entered the server for the very first time. You remembered the date, remembered flicking your eyes up from your homework with the game still running in the background – hardly anyone was playing, so you'd decided to at least be a little bit productive as you waited for some of your other friends to come online. Never before had you seen GoldenJeon written across the bottom of the screen.

    You narrowed your eyes, leaned forward and quickly typed into the chat: Who are you?

    He didn't reply. You left it at that. He was probably just there to try it out, too nervous to speak to anyone until he found his footing in the game and was finally able to open up a little bit more.

  A few days later, he appeared again.

  You were quicker with your curiosity this time, barely letting his name disappear from the chat before you were repeating your previous question.

    GoldenJeon is typing...

   But then he stopped, and there was no response given.

  Maybe it was this constant game of back and forth that piqued your interest, that had you pondering over the person behind the strange username. His characters skin consisted of the gear of prisoners, which has always been a strange thing to pick when playing this game. Most people are drawn to the powerful looking players, the guards, the people with swords and crossbows slung across their backs – your own was a person in a guards uniform, your weapon consisting of two circular blades strapped to your shoulders.

  Your curiosity heightened to levels you could no longer control, and you opened up a new, private chat with GoldenJeon and started texting.

  Innocent questions at first; asking him who he was, how long he'd been playing the game, who the hell gave him the password for the server you were so familiar with at this point.

  And he texted back.

  He gave you answers, the conversation flowing so much easier than you'd ever expected it to. His silence in the beginning had unsettled you to the point where you'd ridiculously convinced yourself he didn't like you – even before he'd spoken to you. He was ignoring everything you said, so what else were you supposed to believe?

  But the two of you texted like best friends outside of the ring of the game you'd grown so addicted to. He sent emojis, and after a few months of constant back and forth, he started sending you little pictures of his dog and the doodles he did during class, and you granted him the same thing. You were never much of an artist, but you put a lot of effort into the drawings you sent him, and also put a lot of effort into making them look effortless, just like he did.

    GoldenJeon: got bored in class again. Teacher nearly caught me this time. {ATTACHED IMAGE}

   He was talented. There was no denying that. Even at fourteen, there wasn't a sense of jealousy that came with this acknowledgement, but a simple sense of pride. You often tilted the phone to your friend, Yul, and let him see the fresh, simplistic art work GoldenJeon had sent you that day, and Yul would hum and compliment him, and you'd sit there smugly as if to say yep, he's my friend.

   After a few weeks, GoldenJeon became somebody else. He became Jeon Jungkook, a student in Busan – miles away from where you lived, but close enough to startle you. Both of you lived in Korea – that had to count for something.

     The start of it all was a bumpy road, but looking down at your phone now, you can't help but grin at the realisation that it really was all worth it. Though you and Jungkook are yet to meet in person, not a day has gone by in the past four years where he hasn't sent you some bizarre song, or some scribbled doodle on the back of his notebook. Not a day has gone by where he hasn't sent you a good morning text and asked you how you are, what you've eaten, what your plans are for the day.

     He's your best friend, but telling people that earns you a few confused glances, so you tend to refrain as far from that conversation as humanly possible.

    Jungkook: I'm bored. Please cheer me up before I walk out and fail this entire class.

   Y/N: tough day?

   Jungkook: The worst day. I forgot we had a test.

  Y/N: what a Jungkook thing to do.

    Jungkook: Fuck off and cheer me up. I'm keeping you around for one thing and one thing only.

   Y/N: to cheer you up?

   Jungkook: Exactly.

   Challenge accepted. Standing in line at Starbucks, you shamelessly lift your phone high above your head and take a selfie, sticking your tongue out and throwing up the peace sign for added effect. You hit 'send' to Jungkook and stuff your phone back in your pocket, turning round to retrieve your coffee and head back to work.

    Jungkook goes to a weekend performance club in Seoul. This much you know, as you get updates from him on the daily about how his classes are going and how life is now that he's basically an independent man who can do whatever the hell he wants; as well as being a student, he's also a trainee.

    He told you about his dreams of becoming an idol on multiple occasions, but you'd heard it all before. Growing up, every single person in your class wanted to be an idol at some point; rising stars like Big Bang and EXO inspired the youth to strive to become as rich and famous as possible – but it always died away, and that's what you thought was going to happen with Jungkook.

    You really should have known better.

  He was only fifteen when he texted you saying he'd passed his audition. Confused, you'd asked him what he meant, only for him to send you a picture – “photo credit to my mum!” - of him standing in front of a sign with the words Big Hit plastered across it. You leaped out of your chair, squealing with happiness, immediately pressing 'CALL' to continue your freak out with him on the line; he'd started crying, you'd started crying, and that phone call will forever go down as the one that cost you the most money as it lasted for over four hours.

    He was still working hard. You got the updates. You comforted him when it all got too much. You helped each other out.

    Your phone chimes, signalling Jungkook's response.

   Jungkook: Okay good. I think I can push through now. Wish me luck. Love you loads and all that.

  You grin.

   Y/N: love you too. Don't kill anyone. Xx

   The conversation disappears and you are finally able to sink yourself back into reality – work.

   Whilst Jungkook is a thriving trainee, you're an intern at a publishing house. Whilst Jungkook spends his days singing and dancing, you spend your days going through unedited manuscripts and marking them up with red pen.

     Your boss, Mr Grey, is standing by your desk when you walk in, which is already the first bad sign of the morning. His arms are folded, his grey (yes, grey) moustache freshly waxed. You swallow back a laugh, giving him your best grin as you walk past him to your desk, pretending that his presence in your office is a normal, everyday occurrence.

   You already know you're in Big Trouble. Mr Grey never steps foot outside of his office unless someone is in Big Trouble.  

  “Are you sure you need that caffeine this morning?” is the first thing he asks, as it usually is. Mr Grey is on a health kick. Even though you know it's temporary and he's been through this with you a million different times before, he will still chastise you for any and all unhealthy lifestyle choices you make in his presence whilst he is trying to slim down.

  You take a small sip of your hot beverage, clap your lips together and say, “Definitely.” You set your folder down on your desk before turning to him fully. “How may I help you this morning, sir?”

   “I need to speak with you about an important matter,” he replies. You pause, waiting for him to elaborate, but his eyes have suddenly turned shifty and there is not a single hint in his posture to reveal whatever riddle he has just spoken.

  You look around cautiously, half expecting Soobin from the next office to jump out and spray you with Silly String, or perhaps throw a can of paint in your face. You honestly wouldn't put it past Mr Grey to want to poison you somehow.

  When nothing seems out of place, you turn back to your boss and say, “Okay. Do you want to sit down?” You gesture towards the seat he is stiffly standing behind, and he nods before slowly lowering himself onto the worn out cushion. You follow his lead, shuffling a few papers around because that's often all you need to do to look busy around here. You then intertwine your fingers over a thick folder and glance at him, waiting for him to usher the conversation along.

  He inhales and rubs a single finger along one of his bushy grey eyebrows. “There has been an opportunity given to me recently that I unfortunately cannot take for myself, so I've come here to ask if you would like to take the chance in my place.”

   He says it just like that. The previous silence, the drawn out dramatics just look stupid now, and you can't help but stare at him blankly as the words settle in. You haven't been there for very long, and you're still barely full-time. You're still considered an intern by most people, and still have a lot to learn – so why is he offering you something like this when there's hundreds of other worthy colleagues who would know what to do with this opportunity so much better than you?

  “Right,” you say slowly. “I'm gonna need a few more details, I think.”

  “It requires travel.”

  “I don't really think I can aff-”

  “All expenses will be paid by the agency. They'll organise a flat and transport when it's needed. They've been very generous with this offer, which is why I think it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

   Your heart is thumping. This is real. This is serious.

  “What is this offer?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady but failing miserably.

  “A well-known company is writing up a catalogue for future employees and they want an editor flown out to make corrections on hand if they need it.”

  You blink. “That's . . . Unheard of. Why don't they just send the manuscript out?”

  “Because that takes too long, and they don't have that amount of time,” Mr Grey explains. “Plus, they're already in partnership with another editing agency, but this agency doesn't have enough staff free at the moment to take on the job. That's why they came to me.”

  “So you'll be shipping me off to another editing agency? I'll become part of another team?” You raise your brows, slowly lean back in your chair. “You could have just sacked me, Mr Grey. It would have done the same thing.”

  Mr Grey rolls his eyes – he never has any time for comments like these. It's part of the reason you find it so difficult to find even ground with him. “You'll be coming back eventually. This is just a temporary job, a favour for a friend.”

  You sigh. “This is a lot to take in, sir.”

  “I understand,” he replies, before he starts standing up. “I'll give you time to think about it, and when you-”

   You launch yourself over the desk, grabbing his wrist and dragging him back into his seat before he can get much further. “Jesus, Mr Grey, slow down. I never said I wouldn't take the bloody offer.” You grab a pen from the Worlds Worst Drinker mug on the corner of your desk. “What do I sign and when do I leave?”

  ---

  The train station is bustling with people, but you had been expecting nothing different when you were told you'd be shipped off to Seoul.

  Seoul, South Korea. A place you'd once only dreamed about stepping foot in. As you'd grown older, the idea of visiting the capital became more and more intimidating, and you've since grown quite fond of your tiny little area. You'd heard the stories, seen the pictures of the crowded streets and the smoke that always fills the air, but hearing about these details and being amongst them are two very, very different experiences.

  You step off the train at long last, shoulder immediately shoved by a passer-by who is too busy looking down at his phone to notice you standing right in front of him. You frown, quickly pull your timetable out of your pocket and look down – you're meant to be meeting your colleague. According to the timetable, this mystery person was meant to pick you up in their car and drive you straight to the building you'd be working at – which, at this moment in time, you have not yet heard the name of.

  You look around for any sign of somebody professional looking – sadly, that seems to be the majority of Seoul. You're surprised to see that half of the people bustling around look like they're on their way to work, wearing nice suits or long coats that hide whatever professional gear they're wearing underneath.

  “Y/N L/N?”

  Your eyes shoot up, heartbeat thumping because you know, just from the sound of the unfamiliar voice, that things are finally starting. There is no backing out of this. You can't just turn around and get back on the train – you've taken the offer, and you're stuck.

  You turn on your heel, placing your professional grin on your face. Standing behind you is a fairly small man with a tiny black moustache, wearing an oversized grey hoodie and a beanie. Little black hairs trickle from the edge of his hat and poke him in the eyes, but he does nothing to shift them out the way.

  He certainly wasn't what you had been expecting. He's shorter than you by a few inches. He's wearing casual clothes, even on a Wednesday afternoon. He looks like any normal human being, even a little laid back.

  “Mr Son!” you exclaim. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Please, call me Sungdeuk,” he says. “I hope the train ride wasn't too bad? I know they can get a little crowded and uncomfortable.”

  As he speaks, he grabs for your suitcase and starts down the platform. You blink, ponder over whether or not to follow him before you're nearly tripping over your own feet trying to catch up.

  “Uh, yeah. It was a – uh – experience,” you reply. “I'm just glad I got here on time.”

  “I assume you know all about the kind of work you'll be doing?”

  “Mhm!”

  You cringe even as the noise leaves your lips, because in truth, you have absolutely no idea what it is you'll be doing. What little you've been told barely seems to cover the surface, and you're still carrying around many questions in which you know will need answered eventually – when you get to that point, you'll make sure to ask, but for now, it's safer to just pretend you're prepared.

   You and Sungdeuk make your way into a large Range Rover that is parked outside the station. Sungdeuk gets in the front seat whilst you clamber into the back, and immediately a cold bottle of water is passed to you over the back of Sungdeuk's seat.

  “Kept chilled, just for you,” he says, winking in the rear view mirror.

  You smile and grab for the drink, but your stomach is reeling with nerves and you know for a fact you won't be able to keep anything down, liquid or not. And so, you mess with the lid, curling your fingers around it until the clasp bites into your palm, until the condensation is sinking into your jeans and making the leather seats damp.

  Neither of you speak for the majority of the drive, and Sungdeuk seems perfectly fine with that. He barely even glances at you, too busy leaning his head against the headrest with his eyes closed, like he's living in his own fantasy world. Even the driver is perfectly content with the silence, but it itches at your skin. You should be talking. You want your first impression to be chipper, friendly, curious. You want your new boss to think you're actually interested in whatever it is you've been signed up for.

  Cautiously, you lean forward and poke your head between the passenger and driver seat. “Uh, hi.”

  Sungdeuk creaks open one eye. “You alright?”

  “I was just – uh – I have a question.” You may as well slip a question in now.

  Sungdeuk turns to look at you. “Go ahead. I thought you were told everything.”

  “I was told most things,” you lie. “Except for – you know – who I'll actually be working for.”

  Sungdeuk stares at you, waiting for the non-existent punch line. You suddenly want to curl up in a ball, perhaps throw yourself out the window.

  He purses his lips when you stay silent, features completely straight. “You don't know who you're working for?”

  “I'm sure it was in the contract,” you hasten to say. “I might have just missed it. You know what, sorry for bothering you.” You wave a dismissive hand, already leaning back in your seat and pretending you didn't even speak up in the first place. “You carry on doing what you're doing, and I'll just sit back here and-”

   “We're here anyway,” he says, grinning at your sudden flustered state. You don't even have a chance to be embarrassed, as you lurch forward and look out the window, just as the massive gates open into the car park behind a large grey building. Lights are on in almost every single room, and there's a sign on the door that reads, in big, bold letters:

  BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT.

  And you want to scream.

  There's no way. There's absolutely no way this is real life. You've decided. You've come to the conclusion that maybe you hit your head on the train and now you're actually dreaming this entire thing. You're in a coma somewhere. A doctor is poking at you this very minute, but you won't wake up because-

  “Y/N?”

  Your eyes snap up. “Hm?”

  “We going in?”

  You swallow thickly and gather your wits, trying to calm the race of your heartbeat. Your phone burns a hole in your pocket – you want to text Jungkook so bad, because you can already guess his reaction. He's going to be mortified. The safe little friendship the two of you have is going to be destroyed as soon as he sees you walk in them doors, because he can no longer hide behind the distance that was always such a comfort blanket between the two of you. Sure, it was a pain in the ass sometimes. Sometimes Jungkook would just go on huge rants about wanting to cuddle you because he couldn't sleep, and its them moments where the distance can honestly just fuck off – but at the same time, you have a pimple growing on your forehead that Jungkook would never be able to see.

  Not until now.

  Nonetheless, you know you can't just set up camp in the back of the Range Rover, so you gather your bags and follow Sungdeuk into the lobby of the building. He's chatting away, giving you a brief tour of the area you can see, but you're not even paying attention.

  On the wall, the posters glare at you.

  “Who is Bangtan Sonyeondan?” you ask, not even realising you're cutting the man off.

  He lowers his hand and follows your gaze to the poster you're currently inspecting; it consists of seven men, all of whom you recognise because Jungkook idolises each and every one. He texts you about their daily runnings almost every single day, and you find it kind of strange that you know Namjoon's favourite cereal to have in the morning, as well as the fact that Seokjin shrunk his favourite pink socks the other day.

  But it's Jungkook who your focus is trained upon, because you recognise him immediately. The brown hair, the dumpling cheeks and the baggy clothes. He's staring into the camera with such a serious look on his face, and half of you wants to burst into a fit of giggles whilst the other half of you wants to burst into flames.

  “They're the group,” Sungdeuk says.

  You raise a brow. “The group?”

  “The only group Big Hit is representing at the minute,” he confirms. “They've been together for a few years now. I'm surprised you haven't heard of them.”

   You swallow. You have heard of them – probably on a much deeper level than Sungdeuk can even begin to comprehend.

  He moves on with the tour, leading you through winding hallways, explaining each and every detail as he does so. You meet a few people on the way past; a few producers, a few choreographers, a few people who are messing with broken cameras and lights. The building just seems to get more and more complex the longer you walk, and it isn't long until Sungdeuk is leading you directly to the training room.

  Thankfully, it's empty for now.

  “And this is my place,” he says, stretching his arms out. The room is only small, but it's brightly lit and there's a glowing neon sign in the corner that reads BTS. Beneath it are a pair of shoes that look as if they had been discarded not long ago; with your limited knowledge of fashion, you're able to identify them as Balenciagas.

  “This is where the boys come to learn their choreographies and practice some of their old stuff,” Sungdeuk continues to explain. “I sent them on their break so I could come and get you.”

   You smile warily. “So what is it you actually do around here?”

  “I'm the production manager,” he replies. “But I'm also the lead choreographer. I come up with the dances, teach them to the boys and send them on their way. They're quite independent that way – they don't need me holding their hand through everything.”

  You chuckle. “I heard Hoseok does a lot of the training. He tends to just take over.”

  Sungdeuk laughs. “Yeah, he's a really good-” He freezes. You glance at him over your shoulder. His eyes are narrowed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Wait. How do you know about Hoseok?”

   Aaaaaand, you've already fucked up.

  Your brain runs at a million miles per hour, because there's a legible answer there somewhere. You can lie. You can come up with something – anything -  but god, your hands are now sweaty and he's staring at you with his head tilted and he probably thinks you're such a crazed stalker.

  You open your mouth to reply, to say anything, but the words are cut off by the sound of booming laughter and the door opening. It squeaks, and you make a mental note to bring some WD40 with you next time you're here.

  But until then, you have to calm down, because Jungkook is there and he's taller than you imagined, and he's captured your eye already meaning there's absolutely no getting out of this mess.

  Sungdeuk greets the other boys – all six of them, fuck sake – but Jungkook stays rooted to the floor. In his hand is a coffee. In his other hand is a water. He's wearing a bandanna and an oversized hoodie, and it takes everything in you not to melt into the floorboards right here and now.

  “Everyone, meet Y/N L/N,” Sungdeuk announces, one arm wrapped around Namjoon's waist, the other pushed towards you. “They're the new editor for the Big Hit catalogue.”

  “Ay, you found someone!” Taehyung exclaims, walking towards you with those long, intimidating legs that are neatly covered by a pair of striped trousers. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you tight against him. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Taehyung.”

  “Nice to meet you,” you mumble.

  “Awk look; they're already nervous,” Seokjin teases, peeling his jacket off his very, very broad shoulders.

  “Don't worry. We don't mind a few typos,” Yoongi chimes in.

  You try to laugh, but it sounds forced and honestly not worth the effort. Even the boys seem to notice the dry, false side to the giggle as they all turn to look at you, a crowd of raised eyebrows turning to look at you all at once – but again, you can't take your eyes off of Jungkook for even a second.

  This is the person you've been talking to since you were fourteen. This is the person who calls you in the middle of the night because he doesn't know what to get from the fridge. This is the person who sends you countless videos on Snapchat of him trying to figure out how to fit the sheet back on his bed in the morning, most of which end with him saying, “Seokjin will do it.”

  He's standing in front of you, and he's real, and you're still not entirely convinced you're not dreaming.

  Until he speaks.

  “D-don't be nervous,” he says. “You'll do a great job. I know you will.”

  Oh yeah. You're definitely going to melt into the floorboards at any given moment.

  ---

  “I can't believe this-”

  “I swear to god I didn't know it was Big Hit I was gonna be working for.”

   “You're here. How are you here?”

  “I took a train, Jungkook. A train! Do you know how terrified I am of fast moving vehicles?”

  Jungkook closes his eyes, tilts his head back against the wall you've accidentally pushed him against in your panic. You aren't even sure how you've done it, but in your hectic panic, you've ended up basically shoving him against the wall as soon as the two of you are away from the large group of excited, older men.

  You take a step back and awkwardly rub the back of your neck. “Look, I'm being serious. I didn't even know what company had hired me until Sungdeuk pulled up outside the Big Hit building. I wasn't searching for you or anything.”

  Jungkook cracks an eye open. “You know I'm not even meant to be in contact with you.”

  This draws you up short. “What?”

  “After I joined Big Hit to be a trainee, they made me sign this massive contract thing. It said I had to cut all ties with certain people, and I signed it and said I would.” He bites his lip and looks away, as if confessing to his crimes makes him somehow not worthy to look into your eyes. “And then I texted you the same day about going online for a few hours.”

  Your chest hurts. Physically aches. “You were meant to cut ties with me?”

  “I didn't take it seriously!” he hisses, tugging at his hair. “I was fifteen, for gods sake. It wasn't until Hoseok started telling me all the things he had to do to make up his contract that I started realising I should probably be – you know – paying attention, too, but I liked texting you. It became kind of routine, so I never stopped.”

   You hollow out your cheeks. Not even a full day into business and already Jeon Jungkook is overwhelming you; you're not even surprised.

  “Okay, so we just don't tell anyone that we know each other,” you say, as if the two of you haven't already put suspicion in people's heads by basically handling each other with bubble wrap the entire afternoon.

  “But I was gonna – I was gonna ask if you wanted to go get dinner tonight,” he says. You raise a brow. He rolls his eyes, shakes his head. “As friends, you sleez.”

  “Okay, okay, I was kidding,” you chuckle. “We can still go to dinner, Jungkook. You can just tell the guys you're going somewhere else, and then we'll meet up. Although, I don't really know my way around Seoul just yet so...”

  “Do you know where you're staying?” he asks.

  You pull a piece of paper from your back pocket and shove it in his hands; written in almost unintelligible handwriting is your new, temporary address. Jungkook's eyes light up when he reads it.

  “Hey, that's not far from the dorms!” he says. “I can come and pick you up if that makes it easier. Then we can finally . . . you know . . . discuss what's going on here.”

  The way he says it makes your spine tingle, like being friends is some kind of scandal. Apparently it kind of is, considering Jungkook was meant to cut all ties with you over three years ago and just casually decided not to, as if it was no big deal. Part of you wants to be flattered by it. The other part of you wants to slap him up side the head for thinking his friendship with you was more important than living his dreams.

  “How long are you staying?” he asks, voice suddenly quiet.

  “However long it takes for the catalogue to be made,” you reply, before awkwardly stepping forward. “Jungkook, I just want you to know that I'm not here for a holiday. I have work to do.”

  Jungkook's head snaps up, eyes alert. “What? Of course. I know that. I was just – I mean, we've been friends for a long time, Y/N. I think it's about time I take you for dinner.” He raises a brow. “Unless you think this is weird. 'Cause we can always just go back to texting and sending each other stupid videos.”

  You chuckle, glancing down at the floor where your toes are very nearly hitting against his. You don't step back, simply kick a rock up onto his shoe which he kicks back onto yours almost immediately. “No. I think this is good. It's like fate, isn't it? Even the universe can't keep us apart kind of thing.”

  Jungkook scoffs. “Is this another one of them astrology things you always send to me?”

  You roll your eyes, nudging Jungkook with your elbow. “I was trying to be sweet, you idiot.”

  “You don't need to be sweet. I've seen you make a fake Instagram account to get a look at your ex-boyfriend's new page.”

  “I was fifteen-”

  He starts walking back towards the building. “I've seen it.”

  “Jungkook, I swear to-”

  “I've seen it, Y/N!”

  ---

  You shouldn't feel nervous, but you do.

  As you look at yourself in the mirror and try desperately to fix your travel-hair, you remind yourself that this is Jungkook. GoldenJeon. The boy you've known for years, the boy who knows you better than any of your real life friends do. There will be no awkward silences, because there is so much to talk about. There will be no flustered glances, because there is no reason to be flustered. There will be absolutely no tension during this dinner, because you and Jungkook have been friends for years. Just because he is now a physical form changes nothing.

  These are the rules you set out for yourself as you slip on your shoes and head for the door of your new apartment. It's small, one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and a sofa. There's a generously sized television hung up on the far wall, and a picture of a house plant hung beside it; you're half tempted to take it down and replace it with a family picture, but something about that makes this place seem a little too permanent. You don't want to be getting attached when you know full well you'll be heading home in a matter of months.

  Jungkook texts you to tell you he's outside at exactly seven pm. He's on time, something you weren't expecting considering he has a habit of being late to almost every single meeting he's invited to – he tells you these things on a daily basis, claiming he slept in or he forgot, or he got too caught up in his games.

  But he's not lying. You step outside into the chilly night air of Seoul and are greeted by the sight of his warm smile and fluffy brown hair. He's wearing an oversized coat, his hands tucked into the pockets, his shoulders bunched around his ears. When he sees you exit through the front door, he picks up his pace to a penguin-like jog before jumping in front of you and bundling you into a hug you most definitely were not expecting.

  “Do you see how early I am?” he asks. You can feel his lips moving against the crown of your head, and your face heats up.

  “You're on time,” you correct. “And apparently in a very good mood.”

 He pulls away, holds you at arms length. His brown eyes look so light beneath the yellow glow of the street lamps. It's a doe-like look, and it makes your spine tingle when it's trained on you.

  “Of course I'm in a good mood,” he says. “I've already picked out the restaurant we're going to. It's called Frapuls.”

  You raise a brow, letting Jungkook slip his hand into your own as he starts to lead you down the pavement. “Frapuls? I don't think I've ever heard of that before.”

  “It's good. All sorts of food – burgers, kimchi, stir-fry – anything you want, they have it.” He looks over his shoulder. “I wasn't sure what kind of food you liked, so I just picked the one that had the most options.”

   You smile. “Frapuls sounds perfect.”

  The restaurant itself is small, sparcely populated. Part of you thinks Jungkook's decision to eat here had more to do with the fact that it isn't busy than because he was unsure of your food preferences – nonetheless, you're not complaining. Jungkook leads you into the tiny restaurant, mutters something to the man at the front desk before the two of you are led towards a table on the far side of the restaurant.

  It's dimly lit, tiny little lanterns placed all around the room being the only source of light. It makes Jungkook's eyes a little darker, making you want to rip his bucket hat off his head just so you can be given better access to the doe-like brown eyes you had seen earlier on. However, when Jungkook looks at you from across the table, there is no more wondering; you can see his eyes perfectly fine, bright and round and questioning. He looks so curious, tracing your features, trying to figure you out – you can see it in his expression. He has questions, so many questions, but he says none of them until you cough and meet his gaze.

  “You can ask me anything you want.” It's a bold statement, but you mean it.

  Jungkook pulls back, spreading his fingers across his untouched menu. He licks his bottom lip and sighs. “There's just so many things that don't make sense.”

  “Like?”

  “Like how you're here. How I didn't know you were going to be here. How we managed to meet up after years of just texting online, and it wasn't even planned.” He shakes his head. “People in our situation literally go through hell to see each other, and it just fell into our laps.”

  You bite your lip. “Would you say it's luck?”

  “I don't really believe in luck.” Jungkook leans forward, folding his arms in front of him. “But I can't really put my finger on what else it could be.”

  “A coincidence,” you suggest. “I mean, it's insane that the people from Big Hit decided to choose the publishing agency I work for to edit their catalogue. It's insane that my boss decided I'd be a good replacement for him.”

  Jungkook raises a brow. “It's not insane. You're brilliant at what you do. I've been subject to plenty of late night distressed phone calls to be able to vouch for that.”

   You scoff. “You of all people are not allowed to talk about late night distressed phone calls. I think I received at least one a week from you – I marked them on my calender.”

   “I'm not that bad!”

  “You definitely are. I have the receipts-”

  Jungkook's hand snaps out and curls around your wrist before you can grab your phone.

  “Alright, I believe you,” he says. “But that's not the point.”

  You grin, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Look, maybe it's better if we don't question why we were lucky enough for this to happen. Neither of us know how long we've got together, so we might as well focus our attention on other things.”

   Jungkook nods, looking down at his menu. “I agree. For example, you never told me how short you are.”

  You very nearly choke on the air you're breathing.

  Your eyes snap open, darting across the table to where Jungkook is now grinning down at his menu, pretending like this conversation starter is oh-so-normal, and not at all totally ludicrous.

  “I'm average!” you argue. “It's not my fault you're a complete skyscraper of a human being.”

  Jungkook raises a brow, still yet to look up from his menu. “I'm not even that tall. You're just taking the piss.”

  “Is this your way of charming me?”

  “I didn't know you wanted me to charm you in the first place.”

  You grit your teeth, shifting your eyes back to your menu.

  Jungkook, however, is on a roll. “Did you notice that I could put my chin on your head when I hugged you earlier? Is that not adorable?”

  “I'm average,” you repeat.

  “You're small. The sooner you realise it, the better. Then I can give you more chin-to-head hugs.”

  It sounds promising. That single hug outside your apartment had been enough to fill you with so many butterflies that you were convinced you would float off like a balloon pumped with helium. His arms had been warm. You had convinced yourself that he'd hidden hot packs in the front of his coat, because nobody's chest could be that warm and welcoming in two degree weather. He'd even gone as far as to press his lips into the crown of your head, and you remember that vividly, because it was that very movement that-

  “Can I take your order?”

  You look up, cheeks heating up with the realisation that you had just completely zoned out, remembering Jungkook hugging you. Looking over, you can see Jungkook staring at you, his cheeks a vivid red colour and his eyebrows furrowed. You bite your lip, looking back up at the smiling waitress who is waiting patiently at your table with a notebook in her hands.

  You order the pasta carbonara and a water, whilst Jungkook orders the steak and rice with an iced Coke to go along with it. The two of you don't mention the lack of alcohol – you don't trust yourself to get drunk in front of him yet, and if your thoughts are anything to go by, you need to keep your brain in check tonight.

   Jungkook's look of confusion does not leave his face throughout the meal, even as the conversation develops a life of its own. The two of you bicker like an old married couple, Jungkook complaining about the amount of times he has to revive your character in Overwatch and you complaining that you always have to give him extra supplies in Minecraft, even though you've totally, one hundred percent outgrown Minecraft and only play it because Jungkook still likes it, and his character would definitely die if you were not there to make sure he keeps his inventory full.

  You're not even surprised with how easy the conversation flows; it's like your texting, but with your mouths. The banter, the teasing, the sly jabs that are always so present in your text conversations do not take the back seat even when you are in front of each other – the only difference now is that you can see his expressions, can hear his laughter, can hear his scoffs of disbelief, and it makes your insides melt with each and every thing he says.

  It's so much better than texting. It's so much better than patchy Skype calls. It's so much better than you could have ever imagined.

  You speak for hours even after your meal has finished. You place your napkin over your empty meal, place your bag in your lap but neither of you move from the table; you just keep talking, shifting into a debate on whether Billie Eilish or Justin Bieber have the best new song out – Jungkook admits that he's taken a liking to Billie Eilish, but hastens to insist that Justin Bieber is, and forever will be, his ride-or-die.

  You only leave the restaurant when the shy waitress glides over to you and tells you that the table you've been over-occupying for hours is needed. Jungkook has paid for the entire meal (plus a tip) before you even have a chance to find your purse.

  You shoot him a glare once the two of you are finally outside again, subject to the cold winter air and the surprisingly busy streets of Seoul – back in your home town, the streets were basically empty at this time, but Seoul is different. Seoul is always alive, always bustling with people and chatter and entertainment. Even at this time of night, there are buskers seated on the pavement and dancers twirling through the streets, lights on in every household. It vibrates with an energy you've never known before, and it sends a ripple of excitement coursing through you.

  Jungkook ignores your glare and continues walking, a dull smile playing on his features that you find difficult to miss.

  “I don't wanna go back to the dorms yet,” he says without turning to look at you. You are forced to pick up your pace just to catch up with him, and when you do, you latch onto his arm so you don't lose him amongst the ever-thickening crowd. If it bothers him, he says nothing.

  “What else can we do?” you ask. “It's getting late.”

  “So?”

  “So all the shops are closed.”

  Jungkook raises a brow, glancing down at you as if your logic is extremely flawed. “Again, so?”

  “Jungkook, we can't just-”

  “Watch this.” He shrugs out of your grip and marches towards a nearby busker before you have a chance to even register what he is doing. You pause in the middle of the street, pulling your coat tighter to your body and watching as Jungkook and the young man with the guitar talk in hushed tones. The busker's eyes eventually light up and he shakes Jungkook's hand before the song he was previously playing is forgotten and replaced by a soft, melodic tone that you've never heard before.

  When Jungkook turns back around to face the crowd, he looks nervous. You immediately know what he's going to do, and your heart races at the idea of it; you've heard him sing before. Some mornings he'll call you just so you can keep him company as he goes through his daily routine, and you sit back and listen to him hum as he brushes his teeth, belts out solos as he picks out his outfit for the day. You've heard him sing, but never like this, and you aren't sure why the idea of it excites you so much.

  He doesn't bother with an introduction to the song. He just looks at you once, closes his eyes and starts singing, and suddenly the rest of the crowd no longer exists.

  The little girl crying over her fallen ice cream no longer exists. The bickering couple beside you no longer exists. The dog barking in impatience no longer exists, and the only sound you can hear is Jungkook's soft voice flittering through the busy crowd, meeting your ears as if he's singing for you and only you.

  The lights bring it all together. They shine behind him, illuminating the gold streaks in his hair, the outline of his jaw that has absolutely no right to be as sharp as it is. His body sways back and forth, and even though he's wearing the worlds biggest coat, zipped right up to his chin, you can still imagine his Adams apple bobbing every time he stops for a breath.

  This is Jungkook in his natural element. This is where he's meant to be, where he worked so hard to be. For years, the both of you had always joked that he was a video game obsessive, that he was most comfortable in front of the computer, or PlayStation, or xBox just losing himself in a world that wasn't this one – but now you feel ridiculous even pondering over such a crazy idea. This is where he belongs.

  Your throat closes over as the song does. Jungkook's voice fades away, and the eruption of cheers brings you back down to Earth. Everyone fizzles back into place, and you're suddenly overwhelmed with the unexplainable urge to break down into tears.

  Jungkook's eyes meet your own almost as soon as he opens them. You grin brightly, clapping along with the crowd and he blushes before he turns, thanks the busker and makes his way over to you. Almost as soon as he is in front of you, he takes your hands in his and pulls you close.

  “You look freezing. I should have kept us moving.”

  “What song was that?” you ask, pulling away to look up at him.

  He frowns. “You liked it?”

  “I loved it,” you reply. “What song was it?”

  “It's called Promise. My friend Jimin wrote it.”

  “It was beautiful,” you say before you can stop yourself. Jungkook's blush grows more prominent, looking down to the floor in his attempts to hide it, but you can see right through it. You grin, place a hand on his neck and say, “I'd like to hear you sing some more.”

   His eyes meet your own. For a moment, you think you've gone too far. His brows are furrowed, and he's silent for a moment longer than you're comfortable with, but he eventually grins and nods. “Of course.”

  ---

  The first day of work is a hectic one.

  The first few pages of the catalogue arrive on your doorstep at seven am sharp, followed shortly by a frantic phone call from Mr Bang Shi Hyuk, who you met a week ago and have still yet to hear talk in a normal tone. He's always busy, always bustling round his office, and you're certain you've never gotten through a phone call  without him having to put you on hold to scold someone. This morning, his frantic call has an undertone of desperation to it as he asks you to get the freshly edited pages back to him by five pm – definitely not an impossible goal, but you know you won't be taking any breaks today.

  And so, you set up camp at your kitchen table and get to work as soon as the coffee kicks in. Bundled in your fluffy dressing gown and a pair of slippers, you sip idly on different beverages, red pen in hand, glasses perched on the end of your nose. You order some food from a nearby delivery place, dig into it with one hand whilst the other continues to glide across the pages, correcting typos and sentences until everything sounds smooth.

  You reach an area of the catalogue that describes Bangtan Sonyeondan, and put it to the side for later. You don't want to think about Jungkook right now – well, you do, but it probably won't be for the best. Any time you see something that reminds you of him, you want to stop, snap a picture of it and send it to him via your stupid little Whatsapp group – that is time wasted, and you can't afford it right now.

  Seven am turns into four pm, turns into five pm, and you're stuffing the catalogue pages into the return envelope at the same time you're pulling your jacket on over your shoulders and sprinting out the door. You don't bother saying hello to the friendly door lady at the reception desk. You don't bother to check both ways before sprinting out the door and barrelling up the street towards the Big Hit building. The only thing you can focus on is the time slowly trickling away, and by the time you've crashed into the lobby of the Big Hit building, the time reads 5:01pm and you're already planning out your new CV in your head.

  You groan, sprinting up to the front desk and slapping the envelope onto it. “Here. It's here. I wasn't late. I was just -” You pant, trailing your fingers over your rain soaked hair. “Please tell Mr Bang the pages are finished.”

  The lady at the desk eyes the envelope and raises her brows, before slowly reaching forward and slipping it into the delivery bin beside her. “Thank you, Y/N. I'll email him now.”

  “Like, right now?” you push. You stand on your tip toes and try to see over the desk. “Can I see what you write? Please tell him I was on time, I was just-”

   Hands gently grip your elbow, startling you. Jungkook is grinning down at the receptionist as he pushes you away from the desk. “Don't mind us, Gertrude. We're leaving now.”

  You shrug out of his grip, spinning around when he pushes you into a nearby hallway and closes the door. He turns back to you, raising a brow that holds so many questions, but your only concern at the minute is whether or not Bang Shi Hyuk is going to receive those pages on time.

  You try to look over his shoulder. “Do you think he'll be mad at me?”

  “You weren't even late,” Jungkook replies.

  You pull your sleeve up and shove your watch in his face. “Can you see that? Five. Oh. One. He wanted them back by five, but I lost track and-”

  Jungkook reaches up and tugs on your bottom lip. The action is so unexpected that you don't even continue speaking once his hand drops back to his side – you just watch his arm swing, eyes slowly narrowing.

  “What did you just do?”

  “Tried to calm you down,” he replies. “Or shut you up. Whichever way you wanna look at it.”

  You frown, shifting your eyes to his. “I think I'm delirious. I've been sat at my kitchen table since seven this morning.”

   “So I thought,” he says. “You weren't answering my texts, or my single phone call that I so kindly wasted my lunch break to make.”

   You wince. “Sorry. I was busy.”

  He waves a dismissive hand, but the guilt is still there; Jungkook always makes time for you, no matter how busy his life gets, and you can guarantee that his schedule is a lot busier than yours on days like this. You can see it in the way the sweat clings to his baggy black shirt, the way the ends of his hair are damp.

  “Did you eat anything good today?” he asks.

  “I had some Chinese takeout.”

  “Gross. That's not good at all.”

   “It was good.” You pat your stomach for added affect. “I had fried rice, chips, egg noodles – the whole damn heap. Ate it straight out of the bag, too.”

  Jungkook crinkles his nose, and it's the most adorable thing you've ever seen. “I swear to god, I'm going to have to keep an eye on you 24/7. You're gonna end up giving yourself a heart attack.”

  “I was stress eating,” you say. “I was burning the calories by stressing. It's like I haven't even eaten.”

   Jungkook rolls his eyes, loops his arm through yours and starts down the hallway. You follow him, a new-found skip in your step that it seems only Jungkook can rattle into your system.

  He leads you right to the training room, where the rest of Bangtan are busy doing absolutely nothing. They lounge around, some of them laying on the floor, others sitting on spinny chairs that have absolutely no reason to be there. Namjoon is leaned against the wall; if you weren't careful enough, you'd mistake him for a house lamp.

  “Look who arrived,” Jungkook announces, shoving you into the room. The other boys chorus out a “Hi Y/N,” before going back to their exhausted scrollings of social media. “One minute late.”

  Jimin fake gasps. “Fired!”

  “Don't even joke,” you grunt, slumping down next to Taehyung on the floor. He leans over and shows you his phone screen, and you immediately take over his game of Angry Birds. He lets his head drop back to the floor and his eyes promptly close, as if he had just been waiting for someone to take over his game so he could go to sleep.

  “Hard day?” Namjoon asks.

  You shrug. “Stressful day.”

  “But at least you made it. Did you edit the pages Mr Bang sent you?” Seokjin asks.

  “Barely,” you reply, and Jungkook scoffs, kicking your foot.

  “You're being too hard on yourself. One minute late isn't a big deal – Mr Bang probably won't even get to reading them before he goes home tonight.”

  “So why did the little bastard make me run down here to get them to him by five?” You raise a brow at Jungkook. “Answer me that, Oh Great One.”

  “Because.” Jungkook sits down beside you, crossing his legs. “Having a deadline looks more professional than just telling you to get them in by the end of the day.”

  “Can someone tell him that I don't care about professional?”

  Seokjin sighs. “I've been trying to tell him that for years, Y/N. So far, no luck.”

  You groan, the sound mingling with the angry chipper of a bird who has just failed to knock down a house full of tiny green piglets.

  “It's done now, anyway,” Hoseok chimes in. He's barefoot again, his Balenciagas thrown carelessly to the side. “I say you celebrate.”

  “Mm. I could always order more Chinese food-”

  “Nope!” Jungkook exclaims. “Nope, nope, no. No more Chinese food.”

  You frown. “Who made you the devil incarnate this evening?”

  “You're gonna make yourself sick,” he says. “Celebrate some other way.”

  “I wish we could join you, but I'm exhausted,” says Yoongi.

  You wave a dismissive hand. “Don't worry. I am too, buddy. I'll probably just go home and get an early night.” You shoot Jungkook a glance. “Play a bit of Minecraft.”

  His eyes light up, a tiny smile twitching on his face that he tries to hide by ducking his head down and messing idly with the drawstrings of your grey sweatpants; you didn't even realise you were wearing them. You were too busy trying to leave the house to actually pay attention to your appearance.

  “Sounds like a night made for an elderly person,” says Jimin. “Right up your alley.”

  You throw Hoseok's Balenciaga at him.

  ---

  GoldenJeon is active, and you're ready to absolutely destroy him.

  Gathering snacks and a drink of water (healthy), you settle by your laptop and start playing. The two of you agreed to meet up on a server called The Hunger Games, in which the players are put against each other until there is only one remaining player – for years, you and Jungkook have squabbled over this game, making it much more dramatic than it needs to be, but it's all for the right reasons. Jungkook will call you in the middle of the game, speaking through gritted teeth, warning you not to jump out at him because he knows you're prowling around the corner, just waiting for him to drop his guard. Neither of you even pay attention to the other players; if another player kills you, Jungkook kills them. It's how it works. You're Jungkook's only goal, and he is yours.

  Jungkook calls you after the ten minute mark. Whilst he speaks through clenched teeth, you speak through a mouthful of marshmallow.

  “Just tell me where you are, you piece of shit,” he demands.

  “Ask me nicely.” On your screen, his tiny block player is busy scrambling through some chests. It would be so easy to sneak up on him, stab him whilst he's too busy looting for gear, but you stay back.

  “Y/N, I swear to god, you're giving me anxiety,” he replies. “Just tell me where you are. I promise I won't kill you.”

  “Aren't you sweet.”

  “So?”

 “I'm not telling you where I am.” You equip your player with your new weapon. “But I just want you to know that I've just found a diamond sword with full strength still on it, so I'd watch out.”

  Jungkook groans. “I hate you. I hate this game. I hate that you're so good at this fucking game.”

  “You spend too much time worrying,” you say. “As soon as the map loads, you're trying to get away from me. Why don't you actually try and figure out where I'm going before you run off in the other direction?”

  “Because if I stay close to you, you'll kill me!”

   “That's the point!”

  Jungkook groans again, and you can imagine him tugging on the blanket he always has wrapped round his shoulders when he's on his laptop. “You need to cut me some slack.”

  “You've been looting plenty of chests recently, Mr JK. It'll be easy for you to just find me and kill me.”

   Jungkook pauses. “How did you know I was looting chests?”

  You grin. “A hunch?”

  “You son of a bitch.” His character spins around and looks directly at you. You let out a squeak of surprise at the same time Jungkook gasps, but you don't give him mercy. You dive out of your hiding place and slam the space button so many times your finger starts to hurt from the pressure; your character bashes Jungkook's character with their fancy new diamond sword until eventually the words GoldenJeon has left the server appear on the bottom of the screen.

  “Y/N!” he cries out. “You didn't even-”

  “I won, is what I did,” you holler, throwing your arms in the air, doing a little dance on your mattress. “I won again, I won again, I won again.” You put your hands back to the keyboard. “Another game before we go to sleep?”

  “No, you know what?” He sounds stern, and you're no longer sure whether to continue the teasing. “No. This is totally unfair. I'm on my way over.”

   You freeze, not sure whether you heard him right. “You're what, sorry?”

  You can already hear him shuffling around on the other side of the phone, probably grabbing his coat, or maybe a baseball bat. “I'm coming over. Get the kettle on, by the way. I have to walk, and it's fucking freezing.”

  “Jungkook, it's twelve am,” you hiss. “Stay where you are or so help me-”

  “See you in five minutes, you little traitor!” And then he hangs up, leaving you in a sudden state of panic.

  Whatever triumph you'd felt at winning the game has melted away and been replaced by an immediate sense of urgency. You jump out of bed, blankets flying left, right and centre. You don't bother going for your wardrobe – Jungkook has seen you in your pyjamas plenty of times before (thank you, Skype). Instead, you head directly for the kitchen, slapping the kettle on on your way past before you busy yourself with tidying up the mess you'd made this afternoon. Broken pens and pencils scatter the table; old takeout boxes litter the counter; your washing up basket is filled to the brim. You quickly toss a pair of underwear under the fridge and hope to God Jungkook doesn't decide to go snooping.

  You've barely emptied the bin before the door to your apartment is opening and Jungkook is suddenly there, in all of his fucking glory, with the most hard expression you've ever seen. You swivel up, drop the bag and say, “If you're here to kill me, I want you to know that it was all fun.” You pause. “But I still beat your ass in that game.”

  Jungkook rolls his eyes, and before you can process what is going on, he's crossed the threshold of your living room and is standing right in front of you. He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into him, startling you enough for a squeak to escape your throat.

  Jungkook leans down, his lips so close to your ear, your throat, the hinge of your jaw and suddenly you want to drag him into you and lose yourself in that warmth you were lusting over only a few weeks prior.

  “I've never been able to do this before,” he says, voice gruff.

  “D-do what? Kill me?”

  He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, and Jesus take the wheel, you've had it.

  “I've never been able to just come over to your house when I want to.” If it's possible, his voice is even lower. “Never been able to call you a son of a bitch to your face, because you should have told me where you were.” He nips your collar bone. If the world wasn't spinning fast enough already, it sure is now.

  You grip the counter behind you, breathing heavy. You want to continue the teasing, to make light of this situation, but your head is running at a thousand miles per hour and holy fuck is this really GoldenJeon holding you like this?

  “Jungkook, what are you doing?” you ask, breathless.

  He stops, detaching his teeth from your throat but he doesn't move away. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No!” You're eager, and that much is clear in your words. “No, please don't. I just want to know why.”

  “As I said,” he says, leaning down to bare his teeth against your flesh again, “I've never been able to do this before.”

  “I didn't know you wanted to.”

  “Then you're very, very oblivious.”

  “Not as oblivious as you. That's probably why I was able to kill you fifteen minutes into the first match.”

  He growls. His hand snaps down and grabs the back of your thigh, hitching your leg onto his hip. You squeal, tossing your head back just as he lifts you up and props you up on the counter. You bang your head against the cupboard. Jungkook pulls back, eyes wide with that concern you know so well, but you don't let him spoil the moment. You grab onto the back of his neck and drag him forward, slamming your lips against his before you lose your god damn mind.

  Because that's what it feels like. All of this is so sudden, so unexplainable and strange, but you're going to be driven absolutely insane if it doesn't continue. Your stomach clenches. You swallow his breathy pants, acknowledge how his lips twist, how his hands hesitate before he finally clamps them on your thighs and slowly drags them up until they're teasing the waistband of your unflattering pyjama trousers.

  “Shy little Jungkook,” you whisper into his mouth. “So confident a few seconds ago, and now you can barely touch me.”

   “Where do you want me to touch you?” he asks.

  The question hits you like a ton of bricks. Your eyes flutter closed. His mouth trails hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw as he waits for your reply, but you're not sure you can gather enough air to give him one at this moment in time.

  His grip tightens on your thighs. Your legs jerk, but he holds you down. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, Y/N.”

  “Everywhere,” is your reply, because you can't think of one specific body part this is burning hotter than the others. “Just – Just stop messing around.”

  Jungkook chuckles. His tongue darts out, dabs at the hinge of your jaw before disappearing, and you want to scream with how slow he's taking this, like he's savouring every moment even though you're trying to scoot closer to him, trying to capture his lips with yours again.

  “Do you want me to touch you here?” He curls his fingers around your leg, his fingertips moulding into the flesh on your inner thigh.

  You shake your head, pursing your lips. “Somewhere else.”

   He raises a brow, slowly lifts his hand to your mouth. His thumb scrapes along your lower lip, and you resist the urge to do that thing you've seen in movies where the girl sucks the mans thumb into their mouth – is that even considered attractive in real life?

  “What about here?”

  “Not good enough.”

  He tilts his head, starts to smirk. His hand drops from your lips, glides along your chin and disappears into the front of your pyjama top. “Here?”

  He's not close enough. Your only response is a strangled groan, to which Jungkook laughs and slips his hand lower, lower, lower until his fingers are moulding the area you need to him to be.

  You groan, tilting your head back when his hand traces the underside of your breasts. “Fucking hell, Jungkook, took you long enough.”

  He leans forward and kisses you. It's desperate. Now that he's heard your response to his hands, he can't get enough. He wants to please you. He wants to take this as far as he can, and he shows this by hitching both your legs around his waist, picking you up and stumbling from the kitchen.

  “Where's the bedroom?” he asks, breathless.

  You point in the general direction he's referring to before pressing your lips to his. No more talking. He could stumble into the bathroom for all you cared, and you'd have him in the bathtub with absolutely no complaints.

  It's your luck that he kicks open the bedroom door and presses you into the mattress. His lips detach from yours for only a second as he strips off his shirt and you strip off yours; he gawks down at your exposed chest, shakes his head and says, “No bra?”

  “It's midnight,” you say. “I haven't had a bra on since seven pm.” You grab his shoulders and pull him on top of you. “Now please stop talking.”

  He laughs, peppering kisses along your jaw that leave you squirming and warm and satisfied. If he were to just spend the entire night kissing you, you'd go to sleep in bliss. His lips work like electric shocks, startling you every time he makes contact, every time his tongue slips from his mouth and joins with your flesh. You feel hickeys burn into your skin, but you don't worry about them now because God, you're too far gone. Tomorrow doesn't exist. It's tonight and only tonight, and it's you and Jungkook and everyone else can go the fuck to hell for all you care.

  He whispers in your ear. His voice is rough. The soft spoken, excitable boy you used to talk to on the phone every night has melted away into something ravenous and hungry, and his hips are grinding into yours with only his jeans and your pyjama trousers as a barrier, until there is no longer a barrier and it's just bare skin against bare skin.

  He asks if you're ready. You say you are. He asks if you're sure, and you say you've never been more sure about anything in your entire life, and in that moment, you mean it. He kisses you, and it isn't the kiss you give someone on a one-night-stand. It's soft, holding memories and feelings and his body slides against your own and your groans contaminate each others mouths. You get loud; Jungkook gets greedy. You beg for more, and Jungkook tells you you're doing so well, so, so well. You unravel in each others arms. Jungkook falls to the side of you, nuzzles his head in your sweaty neck and you hold him so close because you don't want this moment to end.

  “Tomorrow isn't real,” you whisper into his hair. He nods his agreement, panting against your flesh. His breath tickles your new hickeys. You reach up, press your fingers into the forming bruise.

  Jungkook presses a soft kiss to the skin. He's loopy. You look down and see that tired smile playing on his face, the sweat drenched ends of his bangs hanging in his eyes. He shuffles up the pillows, wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest.

  You don't think he realises what he's saying when he whispers “I love you,” into your hair.

  You look up. His eyes are closed, his breathing even. Jungkook is peaceful, but his words play on a loop in your head for the rest of the night.

  ---

  When you wake up, Jungkook is nowhere to be found.

  Your heart immediately lurches into your throat; this can't be happening. You know Jungkook well enough to know that he would never just use someone like that before taking off – so he's either parading around your house, or he's dead.

  You slowly sit up, tucking the quilt under your arms in a pointless attempt at sparing your dignity. The sheets are stained with sweat and . . . other stuff, and you internally groan at the idea of having to wash them; your new washing machine is complicated enough with clothes.

  You make a promise that you'll deal with them later before slipping out of bed and tugging your dressing gown on. You slip into a pair of slippers and head downstairs.

  Immediately you are greeted by the welcoming scent of cooking bacon. It's only when you walk into the kitchen and glance at the clock do you realise what time it is.

  “Six am?” you mutter, startling Jungkook. He stands by the hob, swaying his hips to a song that is playing softly from his phone.

  He spins around, face lighting up at the sight of you, even though you're certain you look nothing short of bedraggled right now. Whilst he looks fresh as a daisy in a black shirt that is tucked lazily into a pair of belted blue jeans, your hair is knotted and your breath stinks, and you have absolutely no qualms about any of it.

  “Apparently,” Jungkook replies. “I was hoping to make you breakfast in bed.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” you say. “But also, you're a guest. You shouldn't have to make breakfast.” To prove your point, you grab the tongs out of his hand and nudge him with your hip. He chuckles, giving you the benefit of the doubt by over dramatically stumbling out of your way. You roll your eyes and start poking at the mostly cooked bacon.

  “At least now you'll be able to say you helped,” Jungkook says.

  You grin. “I'm nothing if not completely useless.”

  “Only sometimes.” He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, and it is this movement that brings you back to last night; the kissing, the sex, sharing a bed.

  The I love you.

  You'll be damned if you bring that up to him, though, because judging by the look on his face, he doesn't even remember saying it. He sways around the kitchen like he's lived there his whole life, a goofy smile on his face that has your chest constricting, because you're fairly certain it's you that has put that smile on his face. He grabs two plates from the cupboard above your head and lays them on the counter, before he goes back to watching as you poke the bacon.

  “How do you know when it's done?” you ask.

  Jungkook blinks. “It's been done for a good two minutes. I thought you just liked yours crispy.”

  You hiss, quickly turning the hob off. “You could have said something!”

    “Give it here.” He takes the pan from you and starts scooping the bacon onto the plate. You follow suit, grabbing the bowl of scrambled eggs he'd prepared earlier and adding a decent amount to each plate. Jungkook then spoons the beans and adds the toast to the side, and the two of you are prepared.

  You eat on the sofa, because of course you do.

  Jungkook eats bent over his plate. You don't know why you notice this, or why you're so intrigued by something so small, but you struggle to take your eyes off him. He presses the edge of the plate into his chest and bends forward, his eyes not leaving the TV as he struggles to rip a bit of fat from his bacon.

   You watch his Adams apple bob, remembering the feel of it beneath your lips. You regret not trailing your fingers along the column of his throat. You regret not unravelling him, completely taking over in the way you so desperately want to now; you had been so caught up in the logistics of what was happening that you didn't take a moment to focus on what you wanted to do; you realise now that you want to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head. You want to see him come apart.

  You swallow thickly and turn back to the TV, cheeks burning. You need to remind yourself that you have other things to worry about besides what happened last night; the work hasn't just stopped because Jungkook decided it was a good time to show up and completely ravish you.

  Jungkook finishes his breakfast before you. As he nibbles on the last remaining bites of his toast, he turns and glances down at your plate; it's nearly empty, and yet he still raises a brow. “You feeling okay?”

  Your eyes shoot up. “Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”

  Jungkook stares at you for a moment longer, urging you to tell him the truth. When you look back down at your plate and ignore his seemingly endless gaze, he sighs, sets his plate down on the coffee table before shuffling closer to you. “Is this about last night?”

  You let out a breath. “I really thought you weren't gonna bring that up.”

  “Do you want me to leave it?”

  “No!” You grab his arm. “No, Jungkook, of course not. I really think we need to talk about it, but I just . . . I wanna know your feelings on it first.”

  Jungkook narrows his eyes, tracing the lines of your face, the same trail he traced with his fingers last night. “I thought I made my feelings pretty obvious, considering I was the one who initiated it in the first place.”

  “That doesn't mean anything,” you murmur, looking down. “I could have been bad at it, you know.”

  A noise not unlike a croak escapes Jungkook's throat. It slowly morphs into a laugh, his hand coming down upon your knee and squeezing.

  When you don't join the laughter, his smile fades and he stares at you. “Wait. You're not serious, are you?”

  You throw your hands up in frustration. You hadn't even realised this train of thought was so prominent in the back of your head, but there's no denying it now. “Look, all of it was very unexpected. I didn't have time to – like – practice my strategy or anything.”

  “You didn't need to-”

  “Yes, I know that, but it would have helped,” you hiss, before groaning and slumping back against the plush sofa cushions. Your plate remains abandoned on the coffee table. Jungkook looks down at it, picks up a piece of bacon and takes a bite.

  “I definitely came.”

  He says it so casually that you very nearly miss what he's said at all. Your eyes burst open, cheeks burning with this news that isn't really news because you know what happened – you were there. You made it happen.

  “You made it happen,” Jungkook continues, as if reading your mind. “And you definitely came.”

  “Oh god.”

  Jungkook grins. “I think I have the qualifications to vouch for that.”

  “You're a dick.”

  His grin only grows. He leans over and presses a kiss to the space just below your ear; you hiss and pull away, hand snapping up to trace the edge of the hickey you'd forgotten was there. Jungkook pushes the hair from your shoulder and lightly touches it, biting his bottom lip to fight off the smile that is surely threatening to show on his face.

  “Lovely,” he says.

  “I'm gonna have to cover this now,” you grumble. “Do you know how difficult it is covering a hickey?”

  “No, considering you didn't give me any.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I'm missing out.”

  “Poor baby.”

  He shrugs, swings his legs round and stands up. He grabs the plates off the coffee table and starts towards the kitchen, but not before saying a casual, “We'll try again next time,” that hangs in the air even as the sound of the tap water shatters the delicate silence.

  You grin, biting down on your bottom lip. Butterflies are attacking your stomach. Memories of last night are lodged in your brain, and you know for a fact that there is absolutely no way in hell you'll be getting any decent work done today.

  ---

  Jungkook leaves for the dorms at seven. On his way out the door, he bends down and picks up a thick yellow envelope, handing it to you.

  “I think that might be the new catalogue pages,” he says.  

  You hollow out you cheeks, taking the envelope from him and tossing it carelessly over your shoulder. “Tell Mr Bang I'll get it to him as soon as possible.”

  “Mm, no,” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Then the old man will know I've been here overnight, and that is awfully suspicious.”

  Despite knowing this would be the case, your heart still quivers a little. You hide it by rolling your eyes and ushering him out the door. “Fine then. Leave the hard work to me. You go and prance around your practice room for a few hours, and call me as soon as you get a chance.”

  Jungkook spins, planting his hands on the door frame. “One more kiss?”

  You narrow your eyes. “You're gonna be that guy.”

  “I believe this is called the Honeymoon Phase.” He kisses you, small and soft but it ignites something in you you've never felt before. Jungkook feels it, grins against your mouth before slowly pulling away and clicking his forehead against your own. “I'll see you later, yeah?”

  “We'll see,” you whisper, before you grip his waist and spin him round. “Now go! I'm not being the reason you're late.”

  “Alright, alright. Tell me how you really feel.” His voice and laughter fade into nothingness as he disappears down the hallway. You watch him leave, gripping the collar of your dressing gown like some kind of wife sending their husband off to war. You only turn and head back into your apartment when you hear the lift ding closed.

  ---

  You love your job. You really do. There is a power that comes with correcting other peoples mistakes, and you are not ashamed to admit that you have been thriving off it from the moment you picked up that red pen and started slashing marks into the pages.

  But this is a whole different ball game.

  You're hunched over your kitchen table, your third cup of coffee half-empty beside you, doing nothing to help the exhaustion. Your body is slowly beginning to realise that you were not made for being woken up at six am. Your muscles are sore, and your eyes are getting tired before you've even gotten through the fifth page of edits.

  You lean back, scraping a hand through your unwashed hair that is still sweaty from last nights mishaps. You told yourself you would take a break to clean up and pull yourself together, because going another day in this state is going to drive you to breaking point, and yet three pm is rolling around and you have yet to move from your kitchen table.

  The pages are littered with images of Jungkook. With Bangtan being the only group involved with Big Hit at the minute, they're using their maknae's adorable smile and doe eyes to the best of their abilities. It makes your job ten times more difficult, as you have to stop every few seconds to send a picture of Jungkook's face to your Whatsapp group with a teasing caption that Jungkook always chooses to ignore in favour of asking you how you're getting on.

  Not good, you want to tell him, but you don't. He's working just as hard as you; it would be cruel to distract him with your own pointless stresses.

  And so you lose yourself in the world of literature for a few more hours, until the last page is glaring up at you and your hand is cramping, and you're refilling the ink on your sixth red pen. Five pm rolls around, and once again you're shrugging your jacket on and bolting down the street towards the Big Hit building.

  Mr Bang is standing in the lobby.

  You freeze, one hand braced against the glass door, the other clutching the envelope tight to your chest; well, this is most unexpected. Though you and Mr Bang have spoken on numerous occasions these past few weeks, most of those conversations were had via phone call. You had convinced yourself that the small man in front of you lived in his office.

  He turns when you enter, immediately smiling an oddly cute smile that lights up his whole face and crinkles his dark brown eyes. He nudges his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and steps towards you.

  “I was just about to call and ask where you were,” he says.

  You shove the envelope in his direction. “All done!”

   “Great, great.” He tucks the envelope into his coat pocket. You resist the need to wince; he better not crinkle those god damn pages, or so help you- “The edits aren't the only reason I was looking for you, though.”

  Your brain short circuits, and you aren't even sure why.

  Today has honestly been the day from hell. Your head aches, and your hand is cramped, and all you want to do right now is curl up on your sofa with a glass of wine and drink everything away. Instead, you place a smile on your face and say, “Oh?”

  Mr Bang sighs, looks around as if checking for anyone eavesdropping before he steps closer to you and lowers his voice. “Have you and Jungkook fallen out?”

  Okay. That certainly wasn't what you'd been expecting.

  You raise a brow, flicking a glance over the big boss's shoulder. Gertrude quickly lowers her head, pretending she hasn't heard anything, but it's obvious in the tilt of her head and the shy little smile on her face that she knows exactly what Mr Bang is asking about.

  You look back at him. “I don't – I don't think so. Why?”

  “Well, I told him I was going to offer you a job in one of the offices here so you don't have to keep running back and forth from your apartment,” he says. “Jungkook told me not to.”

  It takes a minute for you to untangle what all of this means. It's the most absurd thing you've ever heard. It doesn't make any sense, because you and Jungkook slept together and he held you, and he said he loved you and there's no way in hell all of that changed in the space of a few hours.

  But Mr Bang is serious. His eyes shift to the floor when you stay silent, and you watch as he slowly sucks in a breath.

  “I don't like it when my employees go against each other,” he says. “I asked Jungkook if everything was alright and he refused to tell me anything. He's young, so I didn't push him, figured I'd let him figure it all out on his own. But I just want you to know that whatever this feud is – you can't let it get in the way of your work.”

   “There is no feud,” you burst out. “I mean, not really. Nothing you need to be worrying yourself with, anyway.”

  Mr Bang's eyes light up. “Really? That's fantastic, Y/N. How about you come and join us for dinner then?”

  Before, the idea would have lit something inside you. The idea of sitting beside Jungkook and laughing with your friends would have excited you to no end, but you replay Mr Bang's words on a continuous loop and find yourself unable to gather that same excitement.

  You stuff your hands into the pockets of your jacket and say, “I think I'm gonna have to pass. I'm exhausted.”

  Mr Bang nods as if he understands. “Of course. I'll send the next few pages over tomorrow, then. Get some rest, Y/N.”

  You turn on your heel and exit the building. It feels permanent. You want it to be permanent. You want to walk to your apartment, pack up your stuff and never come back. You feel like a teenager, moping over some boy, suddenly willing to change the directory of life just because this certain someone slipped up and hurt your feelings.

  But that emotion is there. You grip the material of your pockets and inhale the cold air of Seoul, ducking your head down in case anyone were to notice your gritted teeth.

  ---

  It's nearly eleven when the knock echoes through your apartment.

  You're draped across the sofa, a glass of wine in your hand, the TV blaring re-runs of Friends. You've been sneering at Ross Geller for the past three hours, and quite frankly, you are in no mood to be disrupted.

  You stay silent and hope the visitor takes the hint.

  It's never that easy, though.

  The knock sounds again. And again. On repeat until you eventually throw your head back and push yourself off the sofa. You slam your glass of wine down and barrel towards the door, throwing it open to reveal GoldenJeon in all his glory.

  Your drunken state wants to spit on him.

  He's grinning from ear to ear, hands in his pockets, hair a tussled mess. Even in your state of tipsiness, you still reach out and flatten a strand against his temple; you pull your hand back just as quick, tucking it under your armpit as if to restrain yourself from touching him further.

  He frowns when he sees the state you're in. You have no idea what you look like, but you're purposefully scowling to the best of your ability, arms folded, the glass of wine bright and full on your coffee table – it wouldn't take a genius to figure out just what is going through your mind right now.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Why are you here?” you demand. “I didn't invite you.”

  Jungkook's frown deepens. A crease forms between his eyebrows. “Since when did I need an invite?”

  “Since you started showing up uninvited and interrupting my relaxation time.” You try to slam the door on his face, but he wedges his foot between the frame and pushes it open again.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, poking his head through the tiny gap he's created. “Are you gonna explain to me what the hell is going on?”

  “No. Go away.”

  “I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're mad.”

  “I'll literally call the police.”

  “No you won't.”

  You purse your lips, turn on your heel and B-Line towards your cell phone. Jungkook shoves the door open and follows after you. You pick up the phone, but Jungkook is quicker; his fingers curl around your wrist and it is with barely any effort that he plucks the phone from your hand and tosses it onto the couch. He keeps your wrist in his grip, staring down at you with a set of eyes that – any other day – would have you pouncing on him in two seconds flat.

  “Let go of me,” you say.

  He does.

  “And get out.”

  “I'm so confused right now. I thought we were okay.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Is this about last night?”

  You groan. “For crying out loud, Jungkook, I'm drunk. Why can't you just take the hint and piss off?”

  He flinches. There's a tiny glimmer inside you that wants to apologise, wrap your arms around him and tell him you didn't mean it, but then you hear Mr Bang's voice in your head and your senses draw back to you.

  “You didn't join us for dinner,” he says. It's almost a subject change. Again, you want to spit on him.

  “I don't think you'd have been too happy if I showed up,” you reply. You take another swig of your wine. “Apparently you only really like me when I'm underneath you.”

   Jungkook's eyes widen. His hands twitch by his side, and he reaches up to deftly rub at this throat. “What are you talking about? You know that's not true.”

  “So why don't you want me working in the same building as you?”

  There is no way to make that sentence sound intimidating, no way to get your anger across without sounding childish and needy; you and Jungkook spent one night together. If he thought it was a mistake, you would respect that – but he didn't need to cut you off from your work, didn't need to come crawling back when he was in the mood. If he found regret in last nights endeavours, it would be so much more merciful if he just left you alone.

  His face softens. It's an expression of realisation, the fact that he's been caught out dawning on him. It's enough to make tears rise to the surface, and you blame the wine but it builds in your chest, grabs at your throat. Jungkook sees it – he lurches forward. You don't even fight when he wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into his chest, his chin taking perch on the top of your head.

  “No,” he says. “No, I didn't mean it like that. Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. I said it to protect you.”

    “Protect me?” You jump away from him, stumbling but managing to catch yourself on the sofa at the last moment. “How could that protect me?”

  “We're not meant to have what we have,” he says, running his hands through his hair. He's trying not to touch you. You're trying not to throw yourself into his arms.

  “What is that, Jungkook?” you ask. “What do we have that is so special? Because last time I checked, all we've done is slept together and played a few rounds of Minecraft.”

   “That's not true. We've got more than that. You're more than that.”

  You grit your teeth, turning on your heel. Your wine sloshes, drenches your wrist but you don't even care. It triggers you to take another swig, then another, and another until the glass is empty. “You know what? I don't think I wanna play this game. I've never let a man dictate how a relationship works, and I'm not about to do it now.”

  Jungkook groans. “I'm not dictating-”

  “Telling your boss to keep me off the fucking premises so you can keep our friends-with-benefits subtle-”

  “And we're not friends-with-benefits!” Jungkook steps forward, grabbing your wrist before you can reach for the bottle of wine. You glare at him, hoping and praying that your eyes look menacing enough right now; you want him to know how angry you are. You want him to see how bad he's hurt you.

  His eyes trace your own. He's looking for forgiveness, but you won't give it to him. His lower lip trembles and he sucks it between his teeth.

  “I don't want us to be friends-with-benefits,” he whispers, fingers still curled round wrist. “I got carried away last night, but I didn't show up just to have a quickie and then leave. I want – I want more.”

  You stare back at him, unsure of what to say. There are so many responses that are playing on the tip of your tongue, but none of them seem right. Not when his eyes look like that. Not when he slowly leans forward and presses a kiss to the flesh just beneath your ear – right over a hickey he sucked into your skin the night before.

  You shiver, wrist sliding out of his suddenly slack grip.

  “Tell me if you want more,” he whispers.

  You close your eyes, tilting your head to the side. Your drunk and angry and turned on, and at this point it's too late to turn back. You do want more – you want it all. You want everything he is offering, but you know better.

  You step away from him. He looks at you, analyses the way you're standing, the way you fold your arms over your chest because you're so scared you'll crack again, so scared you'll reach out and touch him and lose yourself entirely.

  “I want you to leave,” you croak out. The words are acidic. They're a betrayal, but you have to say them.

  Jungkook's features harden. He looks down at the ground, brushes his foot against the carpet only once before he nods and says, “So that's it then? There's nothing I can do to make this better.”

    “You can't expect me to like this arrangement,” you reply. “I'm not sneaking around with you. I've got too much going on as it is without stressing over being caught with you.”

   Jungkook nods, but you're not entirely sure he understands. Maybe he hides a ton of stuff from Mr Bang. Maybe sneaking around is his forte, but you haven't had as much experience as him in this line of work. You're not ready to put your entire career on the line to be with someone who clearly doesn't care about you enough to want a real relationship.

  And god the thought hurts. The realisation hurts. Before, you failed to realise just how much of an integral role Jungkook played in your life, but looking at him now and knowing it will be the last time you'll ever be able to talk to him like a normal human being – it breaks something inside you. Little fourteen year old Y/N L/N is screaming in the back of your head, asking you what the hell you're doing.

  You push them away.

  Jungkook says nothing when he turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look back at you, barely utters a goodbye. He certainly doesn't apologise. He leaves you numb, watching the door swing closed behind him. You listen to the lift opening, closing, going down. You force yourself to stay rooted to the spot, resisting the urge to scramble to the window so you can watch him cross the car park.

  You have to let yourself believe that he is nothing more than another chapter in your life – necessary for your story, but you have to move on to know the conclusion.

  ---

  The pages are getting few and far between.

  Months have passed. You still see Jungkook everyday, but it's not how it was. He doesn't smile when he sees you. He doesn't text you to find out if you got home safe. If he can avoid looking at you at all, that is exactly what he does.

  In the beginning, you didn't want things to be awkward. You smiled at him, asked Yoongi if he was okay, made sure to check up on him when you could, but it got tiring after a while and you lost the motivation eventually. Jungkook wasn't giving you the same enthusiasm, so you no longer saw a point in trying.

  It's your last few days in Seoul. You can feel the end approaching, even though none of the Bangtan boys nor Mr Bang himself wants to admit it. Mr Bang lengthens the deadlines on your edits just to keep you around that little bit longer. The Bangtan boys invite you out for dinner, but you decline because you know Jungkook will be there and you don't want that kind of hassle.

  All in all, you are disappointed to say your last few months in Seoul have been terrible. Full of stress and avoidance, life truly did not give you an easy time of it.

  But your days are coming to an end. You stand by your bed now, looking at the packed bags. A lump grows in your throat; you swallow it down, swiping a hand beneath your eye in any attempt to hide the tears that are threatening to rise to the surface. No one is with you – it would be easy to just break down, because God only knows when you'll next get a chance, but you don't want to. Not even within the comfort of your own company. Crying means admitting you've been affected by the sudden shift in your life. Crying means admitting you got attached.

  Stupidly, obsessively attached.

  To a boy who was meant to be nothing more than a few texts on your phone screen.

  You busy yourself by reorganising everything yet again. It's the fifth time you've done it, and each time has been completely unnecessary. Your clothes are folded beautifully, your toiletries packed away, your sheets and work gear all tucked away neatly; you just need to do something. You finished the last few pages of the catalogue yesterday evening, sent them out and fled the Big Hit building before Mr Bang could make you emotional with any kind of farewell speech. You just needed out of there. Once you get back to your actual office, back home, you'll be fine. You'll be able to start over.

   It's as your reorganising that you realise you've missed something.

  How you missed it is completely beyond you, considering you've been through this five times already. You shoot up, spin around and glimpse your laptop on your desk, untouched for three days now. You've been too busy to even think about logging on and catching up with your gaming; besides, you didn't want to game. Not if Jungkook wasn't on the phone, yelling at you for the most trivial of things.

  But now seems a good a time as any.

  You slowly open it up, press your password in and wait for the Minecraft game to load up. It's ten at night, so nobody you talk to will be active; the game will be full of complete strangers, will be no fun. You'll sign out of it in a few minutes and go back to moping round your apartment, but at least you can say you've tried. It's a step in the right direction, a sign that maybe the spell Jungkook cast over you has melted away a little bit.

  You click on the server you so frequently play on, and look through the list of people active.

  GoldenJeon.

  You should delete it. The whole game, just get rid of it. It's no fun without Jungkook, but after the fight you had, it's no fun with him either. You don't want to play at all, so what's the point of even having it on your laptop?

  Despite these thoughts, the sense of them, you're unable to do anything but stare at his name. Your little character waits for the timer to start, signalling the beginning of the game, but you're not even preparing yourself for it. You're just staring at his name, blinking in gold letters.

   And then your phone chimes.

  Even though he hasn't texted you in weeks, you know it's him. You glance over, catch sight of his name, and you ask yourself why you even kept his number in the first place.

  Jungkook: Please don't surprise me this time.

  You bite your lip. That son of a bitch; he knows exactly what he's doing. He's prodding at your competitive side just to get a reaction out of you.

   But he's done it now.

   The timer counts down from three. As soon as the sirens go off, your hands are glued to the mouse and keyboard, and you're latching your view on Jungkook as his tiny little box character makes a dash directly for the woods; fool. He has no weaponry. Whilst everyone else headed straight for the chests in the centre of the map, Jungkook turned the other direction, thinking he would be doing something good by getting away whilst everyone else was distracted.

   However, you are not one of them distracted people.

   You sprint after him, even as your brain screams at you to just turn the bloody thing off and get back to being an Adult.

   You follow him deeply into the match, your phone chiming away at the side of you; it's Jungkook having a crisis, begging you to not follow him this time. You know he's only saying this because you will – you'll follow him, you'll kill his character and then you'll be reminded of the last time you did it, when Jungkook realised he could come over and yell at you in person if he so pleased.

    His character sprints through the map, gathering supplies and you follow him until he finally comes to a stop and you calculate your chances of survival if you were to just whack his head off now. You make your character crouch, duck behind a door frame as he shuffles around an abandoned house made out of bedrock (bedrock!).

   Your phone rings. You click ACCEPT without even thinking.

   “Where are you?” His voice his gravelly. It hurts to hear it.

   “Now why would I tell you that?” you ask.

    “I don't know why I never learn,” he grumbles. “You do this to me, you know. You make my head go somewhere else, and I can't use my common sense.”

   Your heart thunders. “It works in my favour, so I don't really mind.”

    “Are you gonna pop up out of nowhere again?”

  “Would you like me to?”

   Jungkook pauses. “I would. I really would.”

   “But then you'll be out of the game,” you tease. “Poor little Jungkook, losing another round of Hunger Games because he can't think straight.”

   He growls. It startles you, distracting you for a moment too long. Your eyes snap down to your phone, and you're positive it's only for a brief second, but by the time you look back up at the laptop screen, your character is being beaten bloody by GoldenJeon's stone pickaxe.

  Y/N has left the game.

  Jungkook doesn't laugh, doesn't yell in victory like you do every time you win. There's a single breath of humour-filled air before he says, “Got you.” And then he hangs up.

  You sit there, staring at the end credits and trying desperately to catch your breath; what the hell just happened? What the hell just happened?!

  He called you, is what happened. He had the nerve to pick up the phone and call you as if nothing had been going on these past few weeks, as if he hadn't ignored you, as if he hadn't completely ripped your heart from your chest and forced you to end things with him.

    You grit your teeth. This is what he wants. He wants you to play right into his hands so he can get the control back, and you're not about to let him get away with it.

   So you stand up, grab your coat and march right out the door.

   You know where the dorms are. You've been invited over more times than you can count, have broken Taehyung's heart by declining these invites, but you can't think of a better reason to make an appearance now. You shrug your coat on as you march down the street, turn the corner and head straight for the front desk.

  You're recognised and let inside almost immediately. You don't realise your relief until you're halfway up the stairs, heart thundering in your ears – this scene is so familiar. It's been reversed, but it's so familiar, and it makes your heart rate speed up to a rate you're pretty sure is considered unhealthy.

    You had won the game last time. Jungkook has marched into your apartment.

    Jungkook won the game this time. It's only fair for you to give him the same courtesy.

    You rack your knuckles against the door and wait for someone to answer. It takes two seconds, and there is nothing but undeniable relief when it's Jungkook's grinning face that appears in the doorway and nobody elses.

  You slam your hands into his shoulders and push him backwards. “You son of a bitch. I wasn't even ready!”

   Jungkook loops his arms round your waist and tugs you into him. You're so lost. You're so worked up and he looks so good, and he's just beaten you at a game you prided yourself on winning each and every time. He did it to tease you. He did it so this would happen, and you've walked right into his trap.

  But god, he smells so good, and his hair is slightly damp from a shower, and you're honestly prepared to make a fool of yourself if it means getting a glimpse of his toned torso one more time.

    “Sorry,” he says. “But I believe I won that round fair and square.”

  “You used a distraction tactic,” you hiss. “We never use a distraction tactic!”

  Jungkook raises a brow, tilting his head to the side. “I don't remember distracting you.”

   “You being on the phone at all was distracting enough.” You bundle your fists in his shirt, debate pulling him closer. You eventually decide against it and instead flatten your palms against his chest. “And then you kept making that stupid fucking noise, and I couldn't . . . I couldn't concentrate.”

   Jungkook's eyes flare. “I can't help it if you get distracted just by my voice.”

   “It wasn't your – Stop that!” You slap his chest and groan. “The point is, we need a rematch. That game wasn't fair, and you know it.”

   His hands tighten on your hips. You want to scream.

   “I really didn't take you as a sore loser,” he says.

   You scoff. “Don't act like you didn't come marching into my apartment when I won the last round.”

  That does it. The reminder settles between you, and you don't pull away even though you know you should. Jungkook's eyes – if possible – turn darker. Your breath hitches. The world is spinning too fast. You just want him to kiss you. You don't want any of this back and forth, teasing, talking in low voices – you just want him.

  You knot your hands in his shirt again. This time, you do pull him closer, but not by much. It's a little jerk that has his chest hitting lightly against your own, but he still isn't close enough for your liking.

   He inhales deeply. “I can't believe you're here after what I did.”

  You close your eyes. “We don't have to talk about that.”

  “I don't want to just sleep with you, Y/N.” He pulls away then, rakes his hands through his hair as if trying to restrain himself. “I told you on the day we argued that I don't just want to be friends-with-benefits. I want to be able to talk about things with you.”

    There are cotton balls in your mouth. It's hard to speak, so you just stare at him, hope that gets your point across.

  He bites his lip. “Is that what you want, too? Is that why you're here?”

   Is that what you want?

  On that first night, the first night Jungkook slept with you, you thought that was what you had. You'd never taken Jungkook as the type to have sex with someone and then just . . . leave, and that isn't what he did. Waking up to him cooking breakfast and his scent on your pillows felt almost natural.

  So of course you want it. You want him – not his body, but him. All of him.

    You swallow thickly and step closer. “If we're gonna make this work, we have to sort a few things out.”

   He nods too quickly, too enthusiastically. It rips your heart out of your chest. “Of course.”

  “I'm going back home in a few days,” you say, and Jungkook's hopeful expression fades. “I don't know – I don't know what that means for you. I don't know if that will make things easier. I don't know if me not physically being here will suddenly make Mr Bang let you date me, but-”

   Jungkook groans low in his throat. “I don't care about Mr Bang. I care about you.” He steps forward and cups your face with one large hand. “I made a mistake. I was so caught up in my contract that I didn't even stop to think about how Mr Bang would take my own feelings into consideration.”

   Your jaw drops, eyes snapping up. “What are you talking about?”

  “Mr Bang knows we – we talk,” Jungkook stammers.

   You step out of his grip. “He knows you went against the contract?”

  “In the beginning,” Jungkook says. “He was disappointed, but he's known me since I was fifteen. I guess he took pity on me, because I was a mess when I went into work that day and told him. I'd just reached my breaking point.”

   “And he was okay with it?”

   “As I said, he was disappointed. Thought he could trust me and all that.” Jungkook winces. You place a comforting hand on his arm, knowing how hard it must have been for him to have disappointed one of the people he looks up to. “I said I was sorry, and then he – he asked me how things between you and I were going, and I got really confused. He said it as if we were together.”

   You bite your lip. “Okay...”

   “I turned round and told him you'd ended things because you didn't want to be sneaking around, and he just looked at me like I was insane. He asked me what I was doing, told me to talk to you and then he let me have the day off.”

   You swallow the golf ball sized lump in your throat, not sure what to say but knowing for a fact that you are really gonna have to thank Mr Bang for this.

   Jungkook rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “So I went home, logged onto Minecraft to see if you were there – you weren't, but I waited.”

  “You waited.”

  “And then you came online and I took my chance.”

   “You did indeed.”

   Jungkook lowers his voice to a whisper. “And now you're here.” It's almost like he's talking to himself, even though his eyes are burning holes in your own. “You're here and you're not saying anything.”

    You don't need to say anything. There are no words that can possible portray what you're feeling right now, so you do the next best thing. It's straight out of a cheesy romance movie, but you've learned from the best and you launch yourself into his arms, kissing him with the need and desperation that has been building in your system for weeks now.

   Jungkook grunts into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist. The two of you stumble until the back of Jungkook's knees are hitting against the arm of the sofa and he's falling backwards into the plush cushions; he doesn't let go of you, and your body ends up right on top of his own.

   You kiss him again, and again, and again. Not just on the lips, but everywhere. Peppered kisses behind his ear, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth, his chin, his cheeks. Everywhere until he's giggling and trying to push you away from him.

    “You still played unfairly today,” you pant, exaggerating each word with a kiss to his forehead. “I want revenge.”

    “I'm excited to – hey! - find out how you get that revenge,” he replies, crinkling his nose up when you go to press yet another kiss there.

   His fingers are just starting to grip onto your belt loops when the door behind him opens. Jungkook's head snaps up, his hands tightening to keep you in place. Taehyung and Namjoon walk in, side-by-side, but immediately stop and raise their brows when they see the position you are currently in.

   Jungkook wriggles beneath you. You shoot upright, struggling to find your footing again. Jungkook grunts when you're forced to shove against his chest to get off the sofa. You turn to the two members of Bangtan and grin as Jungkook flops back onto the sofa and groans.

    Namjoon is the first to speak. “Hey Y/N. . . I see you took Taehyung's invitation.”

   “I did!” you exclaim, and then quieter, “I did. It's a lovely place you've got here.”

   “Apparently we've also got a lovely maknae,” Taehyung says, wriggling his brows, and Jungkook buries his head in the sofa pillows. “I always knew something was going on with you two; you're the only person I know who can distract Jungkook long enough to break him away from his work.”

   You raise a brow, flicking your eyes down to the boy in question. He peeks at you with one eye, half of his face still pressed into the cushions, and grins an embarrassed grin. You smile right back, pushing down a laugh.

   “Come on, Tae,” Namjoon chuckles. “Let's leave them alone for a bit. I think they have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Taehyung rolls his eyes, mouths Use protection before he and Namjoon turn and leave the room. You glance back at Jungkook, raise a brow.

    “He's totally lying, of course,” he assures, voice muffled.

   You chuckle and bound back onto the sofa, circling your arms round his torso and going back to pressing loving little kisses to every part of his face you can think of.

   ---

   Jungkook presses his chin into the crown of your head and sighs yet again. “You're still so tiny.”

   “I'll literally start walking home now.”

  He groans, pulling you closer to his chest. “Don't say home. You're home is meant to be with me.”

   You close your eyes and tilt your head back. It rests in the hollow of his throat. You want to live there.

   “I'll visit you,” you say, even though it's not enough. It'll never be enough. “We managed to keep in touch since we were fourteen – this isn't anything new.”

    He sighs again. “I know. We'll make it work, just like we always do.” His arms tighten on your waist. “I'm just gonna miss this, that's all. I'm gonna miss you – you in your physical form.”

  “In what way do you mean physical form, Jeon Jungkook?”

   He leans down and nips your earlobe with his teeth. “Whatever form you're offering.”

   You chuckle and shake your head, beckoning him away. He goes back to resting his chin atop your head, the two of you looking out for the train that will soon be pulling up to take you home. Your bag is packed, but Jungkook placed it a few feet away because he didn't want to admit that all of your stuff was in there – that means permanent, apparently. Packing up your stuff means there's no option to come back. Looking at your suitcase, filled to the brim with the clothes he's seen you in, the clothes he's ripped off of you, made him uncomfortable.

    “I feel like adults are meant to handle this type of thing a lot better,” he says suddenly.

   You look up; his chin slides to your forehead as he refuses to move. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugs. “Like – relationships. Love. Stuff like that. I should have grown out of my mine, mine, mine phase, but the idea of you just . . . walking away is literally ripping me open.”

    You bite your lip. “Jungkook...”

   “I get it if you don't feel the same way. I'm not asking you to.” He shrugs again, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back so he can put his chin back where he is most comfortable. “It's only been a few months and I already feel like you should just be by my side all the time.”

   “I wish I could be.”

   “You do?”

   “I don't think I've ever clicked with someone like I click with you, Jungkook. I feel just as awful about leaving.”

    He sighs. Again. If you made this into a drinking game – drink any time Jungkook sighs – you would be falling head first into the train tracks by now.

    He hugs you impossibly closer, and the two of you fall into a thoughtful silence. In the distance, the whistle of the train sounds and you close your eyes, as if in doing so, you can somehow transport somewhere far, far away, with only Jungkook to keep you company.

   But reality is a bitch, and it slaps you in the face when the train pulls up and people start piling onto the carriages.

  You turn, quickly wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing him, putting everything you can into the way your lips mould against his. He groans against your mouth – he always does – and he tightens his grip and you hope to God he just refuses to let go. You two can just live here, in this underground station, tangled in each others arms forever. You'll become statues, a part of the structure and nobody will bother you again.

   But the conductor calls a warning,and you know you have to go.

  You pull away. Jungkook's face falls, and his thumbs swipe beneath your eye. You didn't even realise you were crying until he shakes his head and says, “Soon. We'll see each other soon.”

   You nod, biting your bottom lip. You say the first thing that comes to mind, which might not be the best strategy considering this is the last thing you'll get to say for quite a while, but nonetheless, it's a perfect parting confession.

   “I love you, GoldenJeon.”

   His eyes widen. You panic, because that was certainly not what you planned on saying. He reaches towards you, but you press a final kiss to his lips, grab your suitcase and dart off towards the train only seconds before the doors close behind you.

   As the train speeds off, you turn in your seat. Jungkook is still stood on the platform, one hand raised to his lips and his eyes lowered to the floor.

    ---

  You're in your pyjamas again. Boring, stupid old pyjamas. You'd left them behind for a reason – you're wearing them now because you're trying to get back into routine. You have to be at the office tomorrow. You have to look Mr Grey in the eyes and thank him for the opportunity even though he was the one who ordered you home. You shouldn't feel angry, but you do.

  You press PLAY on your movie once again, having paused it to go and gather some ice cream and your laptop. You and Jungkook have only texted the odd time since you got home, with him claiming he wants to give you time to rest and you promising him that you were definitely, one hundred percent in bed and only seconds away from falling asleep.

   Turns out, falling asleep without Jungkook's arms around you is a lot more difficult than you'd originally anticipated.

  It's so weird. It's a phenomenon, considering you fell asleep without him your entire life. But now that you'd got a taste of just how luxurious sleep can actually feel, it's difficult to go back to square one.

   You click on the tiny little Minecraft icon and watch the screen load. It's almost instinctive when you log onto the all-too-familiar server. Again, it's much too late for Jungkook to be online – he told you he was doing some late night editing for one of his Golden Closet Videos, and you've seen him when he starts editing; he won't be looking away from that complicated editing screen for another few hours at least. His attention will be nowhere near Minecraft.

    It loads up, and of course, the little shit has lied to you.

  GoldenJeon is online.

  You narrow your eyes, hoping and praying he doesn't notice the little Y/N is online that appears in the corner.  

   But he's GoldenJeon. He notices everything.

   Your phone chimes. You wince, cautiously looking over as Jungkook's name flashes on screen.

  Jungkook: You weren't asleep for very long.

  Y/N: you weren't editing for very long.

  Jungkook: It's gonna be very difficult for me to come over and have sex if you win this match, you know. You didn't think this through.

  Y/N: i'm sure phone sex will be just as sexy.

  Jungkook: Let's give it a go.

  The match begins, and you win. It's no surprise – at this point, you're fairly certain Jungkook is just letting you win because he wants an excuse to come over.

   Or in this case, an excuse to call you.

   You pick up before the first ring is even over. Jungkook laughs at your eagerness before saying, “Miss me?”

   “More than anything. Now talk dirty.”

   “I love you.”

   You freeze.

   “Oh, did you like that one?” he teases. You can hear him grinning. You want to smother him – or kiss him. Either way, you can do neither. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

   “Jungkook-”

  “I've loved you since I was fourteen years old and you were just a weird little character on a shit, low budget game.”

   “I don't want you to talk dirty any more. Please keep making fun of me before I combust.”

  Jungkook chuckles. “Tell me you love me back.”

   “I said it first. You know I-”

   “Say it again. We're having phone sex, remember?”

   You bite your lip. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

    He inhales shakily. You can hear it, the rattle in his chest, the way he bites his bottom lip. You can imagine him tilting his head back in that way he does so often when you insist on walking downstairs in one of his shirts, or nothing at all if you're feeling particularly playful that day.

   “You're right, you know,” he whispers.

   “About?”

   “Phone sex really is just as sexy as the real thing.”

[thecrenellations]

Thick as Thieves Undead-Blog, Part Two | when your liveblog wakes up to drink some broth then goes back to sleep smiling because it trusts you | my notes from reading the book for the first time, Spring 2017

Format: Page number. My ridiculous thoughts (Context???)

Part One

Chapters 6-13:

Ch. 6 - Very intense chapter in which Kamet and Costis are captured by the slavers and escape

163. Costis <3 Muscles Good looking! (wow what a way to start this post)

one hot piece of attolian manflesh ... confirmed (people would call him this on LJ! I forgot about it for several years until reading this passage)

164. omg earring swallowed!

166. amanuensis? (perennial thanks to mwt for all the vocab words)

168. shit. severed hand.

172. wtf Costis don’t kill him

173. how do you silently kill someone like that?

174. wow fuck

men dead not even breathing hard. (compare to KoA assassination)

Everyone is a monster!

176. Thieves.

Ch. 7 - Lots of good conversation, potentially symbolic animals, and a surprise Eugenides

183. Grt scene (apologies)

184. now who’s asking rude questions? (about killing people)

186. lying to him <3

ok! unreliable narrator!

wait i thought they didn’t have slaves in Attolia?!

187. “I was unappreciated” ... I’m always lonely

so cute

188. me when mwt writes: what is this blatant unabashed fanservice?

WHO IS THIS BOY?!

189. Onarkus =/= Sandy?

190. okaaay #confirmed Gen!

191. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Boots

195. he caught a snake (associated with a certain king and assumed bootboy “you viper” “you are a poisonous little snake” ... another ominous dead animal)

Is Costis’s earring for Eugenides (I was thinking of the god!)

196. a goat and a snake .... how poetic

Costis stalks goat ...

197. hmmm.... goat and hand and last trace of Nahuseresh (OMINOUS)

does Irene know her husband was a bootboy?

203. no this what? (“trouble with a maid” story exchange)

Marin?

204. he was prepared to run away??

how old was he?

well this is a lot to chew on

205. K using past tense for N

C asking about slaves killed after emperor’s death... does he know?

Ch. 8 - This road trip was going great until SOMEONE fell in a well

208. Are Taymets taller than Eddisian mountains?

210. time passing, broad and focused

212. MY Attolian

classic minor mwt characters

215. singing Costis???

216. swearing gimme a break

please don’t let the Namreen kill them later...

217. Kamet says very little of what HE did/his interactions w them!

218. wot nice cut! (“Eleven days later...”)

gods?

219. “water finds a way” a saying from Eddis? how does C know that? also brings to mind QoA weather passages

Why doesn’t Kamet ask/wonder WHY Gen wants him?

223. They’re gonna do it? They’re gonna make it? So close!

224. does Eddis have comparable irrigation engineering?

227. NO!

228. u idiot you meant to leave him before!!!

at least look in the freaking well!!!

229. Kamet’s Face! wow he’s really in shock (at weapons shop)

230. SUCH FAMILIAR PHRASING! birds :( (I was caught up in the birds and completely missed the spilled wine!)

Ch. 9 - Retrieving Costis from the well, Ennikar appears again

231. “You’re certain he’s dead?” nice CUT

this time i heard him say?

was he talking?

232. thoughtfully tensing his lower lip?

who tf is this guy - another god?

mm grr I’m Kamet I have no friends

ok so he’s what’s his face Enkidu?

heroes walk the streets

234. AAH why

say his fricking name?!

god you’re so bad @ this

236. THIEF

237. FRIEND OMG

238. omg so good flour!

SO CUTE I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THIS

239. OMG Costis. Nice. (Costis tries the Gen method of deflecting concern)

241. “as if we were close friends traveling together???”

242. Costis ... knows a hero when he sees one?

But ... delighted? not horrified?

Ch. 10 - Hanging out with Godekker

247. SO MANY HELPFUL STRONG MEN (Enter Godekker)

249. PAY THE FASTENER

253. god so snarky

254. Kamet’s chops

fuck how is this book going to end???

256. You’ll never feel safe ... Gen + Relius’s fears?

258. Fuh!

259. Ok do i have hope?

he doesn’t have Tethys lesions does he?

263. aahhhh

Costis trusts him!!!! <3

aaahhh

264. Noli? where did he get that from?

smarrrt

265. yeah u did tell Godekker your name!

wtf is this god advice!

268. The So, so, so count in this book is OUT OF CONTROL!!! It may be a record.

Ch. 11 - Kamet’s stressful voyage

270. Lol Sophos is better @ assuming Attolian ships are there...

272. yesssss earring GOOD

274. yeah sure Kamet you still haven’t left!

I did not want to leave the Attolian!

276. watching Costis

277. my heart’s gonna break don’t leave, Kamet!

278. “as if the gods had cursed my wandering feet” nice. also iambic pentameter

also laying it on a bit thick there

280. Sea in the Middle of the World!

he’s so scared though. :(

the fuckin nerve!

Costis + Gen and their s3cr3t sign

281. nooooo it’s ok to lie, it’s endearing in this world!

also Costis seriously why do you think he would be ok w/ this!

I’m coming home! (to Attolia. In cursive, see image at top of post.)

282. war?

Ch. 12 - Dramatic times in Attolia

284. “I thought we were I + E” :o

shit where is his honor now (”I would have let you go”)

285. hey there Teleus...

my heart

285. yeah but C probs knows all those guards ... he thought punching Gen was the most embarrassed he’d been... (in retrospect, I don’t think he was embarrassed AT ALL during this scene. Costis fight mode was activated.)

yeah I mean she has given us the Magus all this time! (reflecting on the fact that Costis’s name has yet to appear)

286. Yesss angry Costis poking Teleus!

This is Something to imagine

287. THIS IS REALLY BAD (”the queen”)

OK...

holy shit

when is this???

she’s not THAT old!

288. THE room? (“filled with all the horrors I had fled in Ianna-Ir”)

289. 298 pages until this! (“Costis”)

289. Please stay alive Irene!

On some level I do feel that my childhood is ruined w the confirmation they banged. :( Gen is like 20! (Listen. I love them. I'm very happy for them. This is not exactly breaking news. 20-year-olds, and this one in particular, can obviously do anything they want. This note brought to you by me being Too Ace For This and having been both younger and older than him since first reading the books a very long time ago...)

292. Gggennn

293. Is this court respect a recent development? WHAT DID I MISS? (they watched him fight the entire guard, is what, c’mon me. Costis hit him on the head with an amphora.)

yeah we get it people underestimate Eugenides

OH MY COSTIS

294. is this Annux by any chance?

Boys ur making a scene!

King of Attolia vs of Attolians?

295. very ... dramatic

this is ... a private convo?

297. yup he’s Eddis’s best stalker!

Ch. 13 - Everything else that happens in this book!

298. “Do they know?” yeah wtf Gen

it’s like the new “and every1 was naked” (in KoA)

“and every1 was watching”

300. Gen: Yo Helen can u bring me that one coin?

Helen: sure. no prob

301. “Poor Costis”

yeah Melheret always sneaks up

302. “You’ve come from the prisons, not how an honored guest is usually received” UM ACTUALLY...

305. Kamet.... (crying in his room)

306. “the kind of Attolia sitting on the footboard” oh my god yeah classic

307. Irene comes thru with the stats

Was Kamet at the battle at Ephrata?

310. talk with the kitchen staff good god i would like to know. So bizarre.

lol toting around an ambassador all nite? What would Teleus say?

while Irene’s sick ...

WTF will Costis do now?

312. names ... Kamet ... Ormentiedes? 

Creeeeeeeeepy Relius (probably about “there are some questions you might answer for us” but possibly about the cutting up and feeding to wolves comment)

314. business arrangement uh sure

Yeah ok write it all down

316. talking to Costis?

(a note: the version I read was an advance reader copy, and the only major difference was that it did NOT include the scene with “the young Erondites”)

318. Attolia smiled at him!

anything worth doing is worth overdoing lol

319. alternate readings of poem?

322. orange trees!

cabbages!

324. sent Onarkus away RECENTLY???

Is Brinna Sandy!

Seriously. 

Cooks r weird (thinking about the entry for cooks in the Tough Guide to Fantasyland)

326. the magus!

an ACHING void

oh I know I’ll just GO!

poor Gen can’t have any friends...

331. they have duffles in Attolia

and with Attolian duffles, the story ends! Thanks for reading, feedback is welcome. I promise I have more developed thoughts about this book. For another weird journey, listen to my Thick as Thieves playlist, maybe.

[ericsonclan]

Bugging Out

Summary: An event causes a misunderstanding between Marlon and Sophie.

Read on AO3:

Marlon couldn’t wait for lunch time. He nervously tapped his foot against the classroom floor which some of the other monsters found obnoxious but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get through whatever lecture Mr. Everett was going on about and stretch his legs. That and spend lunchtime with Sophie like he promised. He felt his cheeks heating up at the thought of her. How he had gotten a tall, beautiful harpy to be his girlfriend he had no idea but he enjoyed every day that he got to spend with her. He was excited to see her again at lunchtime. If this stupid clock would move faster, Marlon groaned internally as the seconds dripped by slowly. The words of the lecture all blended together to form an incoherent buzzing sound in the dullahan’s ears. But after a while time seemed to be on his side and the bell rang loudly throughout the hallways, signaling that class was done and that lunch had finally arrived. Marlon rose up from his spot, tossing his books haphazardly into his backpack and was about to walk out to find Sophie when all of the sudden Mr. Everett spoke up.

“Marlon, could you stay back for a few minutes?”

Marlon glanced back at his teacher, a mixture of worry and annoyance bubbling within him. He had a pretty good idea of what he was going to say.

“I just wanted to go over your last history test since it seems like you didn’t do so well,” Mr. Everett slid forward the paper, revealing the poor grade of 43 on it. Marlon felt her heart drop at the sight. His parents were going to be so mad when they saw this. Mr. Everett could see the different emotions battling inside his student's mind. “If you’d like, we can look over it during lunch and with an extra assignment I may be able to raise up your grade.”

Marlon’s eyes shot up and locked with Mr. Everett’s. “Really?” A hopeful smile appeared on the dullahan’s face. “I’d really appreciate that, sir.” This was great. If he got up this grade then his parents wouldn’t be upset with him and make him spend all his free time on the weekends studying. This way he could maybe buy some time before getting a tutor and wouldn’t miss out on any fun dates with Sophie. The realization hit Marlon in an instant; he’d promised to have lunch with Sophie. “Would you mind if I quickly found someone? I promised I’d meet them during lunch and I don’t wanna reschedule with you.”

“Sure, but be back soon,” Mr. Everett took a seat back at his desk and got out some papers to grade and a sandwich to nibble on while he waited. Without another word the dullahan ran off, awkwardly trying to run through the halls without letting his head slide off.

“Sorry, sorry.” Marlon apologized as he bumped into some other monsters. “Shit, sorry!” He called back to a gryphon before sprinting outside. Knowing Sophie she was mostly likely with Minnie, Renata or Violet. Marlon’s eyes scanned the area and quickly picked up on the werewolf who was busy eating her lunch with Prisha, Louis and Clem.

Louis looked up, his eyes brightening when he noticed his best friend, waving excitedly over at the dullahan and patting the empty spot next to him. “Marlon, got a seat for ya!” Louis smiled over at his friend.

“Sorry, can’t, gotta find Sophie.” Marlon waved back, flashing an apologetic smile before sprinting off. He continued to look around the campus until he decided that maybe his girlfriend was hanging out by the woods nearby. Sprinting forward, he slowly began to make out the shape of Ericson’s most mischievous huldra who seemed to be chanting something and pumping her fist while Sophie had her head lodged in a tree. It seemed bizarre but then again nothing was normal here at Ericson High. He just needed to drop by and tell Sophie he couldn’t have lunch with her.

“Sophie!” Marlon cupped his hands over his mouth to get his girlfriend’s attention. The harpy’s feathers twitched as she popped her head out of the tree, turning around and revealing a mouth full of bugs. Sophie tried to say something but nearly choked on the bugs in her mouth. Renata chuckled while whacking her best friend on the back. A flurry of bugs flew from Sophie’s mouth and landed on the ground, scurrying away to safety.

Marlon looked shocked for a moment. He didn’t think harpies could fit that many bugs in their mouths. In fact, he’d never seen Sophie go bug hunting until now. Before he said anything, he glanced down at his watch and swore frantically. It was already cutting deep into his time to look over the test with Mr. Everett. He was getting so anxious about it, his head started to slide off again. “Fuck, shit.” Marlon stumbled around, trying to snatch his head. Letting out a relieved sigh when he caught it, the dullahan gently placed it back over the ghastly vapors whispering from his body. “I can’t have lunch with you today!” Marlon yelled before sprinting off.

It wasn’t until he was back inside the building that he realized how that had sounded. It had probably come across more harsh than he had intended, especially since he had totally blanked on telling Sophie the reason why. He couldn’t go back and fix it now though. He’d have to wait until he ran into her again and explain that he was just meeting with a teacher. With that thought in mind, Marlon walked briskly through the hallways back to the classroom where Mr. Everett was waiting.

-----

Sophie felt her heart drop while she watched her boyfriend sprint off. Probably to get as far away from her as he could after he saw that. He was definitely grossed out after seeing all those bugs in her mouth. “Shit,” Sophie coughed sharply, causing a final bug to shoot out of her mouth. “I’m so stupid. Why did I agree to a bug eating contest?” A small, sad tweet escaped the harpy’s lips.

“Don’t worry, Soph,” Renata placed a hand on her friend’s arm, a confident smile on her face. “I’ll allow a redo. So the hefty sum of zero bugs won’t be your final score.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Sophie replied with a pout. Slowly she flew up and embedded her claws into one of the tree’s branches. Allowing her body to swing upside down, she used her arms to hide her face, hoping that the feathers would mask her emotions.

“Sophie,” the huldra poked her friend’s feathers. “Are you upset that Marlon caught you snacking on bugs?”

“Yes!” Sophie chirped. “He probably thinks I’m some sort of freak! You saw how fast he ran away.”

Renata tilted her head. “Well, I mean his head falls off so he’s weirder than you. Besides, bugs are tasty! So I don’t think it’s a big deal!”

Sophie peeked her head out from behind her feathers and looked at the bright smile of the huldra. “It’s not a big deal for you because you’re dating someone who eats bugs too!” Sophie twittered sadly. Letting her talons release her grip, she landed on the ground. “I’m not hungry anymore. I’m gonna just get ready for P.E.” Sophie didn’t bother to wait for Renata to say anything. Instead she flew off towards the school.

-----

“Are you still sad about yesterday?” Minnie glanced over at Sophie who scratched her talons across the ground as they walked to school.

“Yes,” Sophie mumbled “I’m allowed to be.”

“That’s true.” Renata added, her teeth poking out slightly. “But it’s more fun to focus on the positives.” The huldra’s hand that held Minnie’s swung back and forth happily. “Like this!” The huldra held up a large container. “Omar helped me make lunch for the three of us!”

Sophie glanced over, an excitement dancing in her eyes when she noticed the fried worm sandwich in the container. But it quickly faded away.

“It looks amazing,” Minnie smiled over at her girlfriend who beamed at the praise, her tail curling around her leg.

“Thank you! I do have some hidden cooking talents of my own!” The huldra declared proudly before pausing. Her eyes grew large for a second. “Oh! I forgot I promised to meet up with someone before class. I’ll see you in fourth period.” Renata got up on her tiptoes and gave Minnie a quick kiss on her cheek, giving her hand one final squeeze before sprinting off.

A happy crow escaped Minnie’s lips, her feathers standing up from the sheer electricity of the romantic gesture. “I can’t wait for fourth period!” She smiled over at her twin who still seemed down in the dumps. “Come on, Soph,” Minnie grabbed her sister’s hand and pulled her inside. She could tell this was going to be a long day.

----

“Who would want to date a big bird?” Sophie faceplanted on the picnic table. A sad chirp emitted from her flat face.

“Well, first off the correct term is ‘harpies’,” Renata placed down the container filled with lunch on the table in front of her, pulling out a rabbit panini and taking a large bite from it. “And I like dating a harpy.” Renata looked up, a warm smile on her face when she noticed Minnie walking over. “It’s the best.”

“Hey,” Minnie slid into the spot next to her girlfriend, grabbing a fried worm sandwich. “I’m so hungry.” She took a bite out of it and let out a happy tweet. “Holy shit! Omar can fucking cook! Gotta get this recipe from him.”

“I made some cookies for dessert too.” Renata did a drumroll before revealing a small bag full of cookies.

Sophie lifted up her head, her stomach growling at all the great food in front of her. “ Can you pass me a sandwich?”

Sure!” Renata tossed over a fried worm sandwich which Sophie caught in her mouth, munching on it with a content smile. She still felt down but she wasn’t going to let that ruin lunch. Happy chirps and excited twitters emitted from Sophie while she devoured the entirety of her sandwich within seconds.

All of a sudden Marlon sat down across from her. The air around the table instantly changed. Sophie felt her mind spin with doubts and was about to get up to leave when Marlon spoke up.

“Sophie, wait!”

The harpy paused and looked over at Marlon wondering what he was possible going to say or do. Slowly and without a word, the dullahan opened up a bag of gummy worms and shoved a bunch in his mouth. After a few seconds of chewing he swallowed the gummy worms with a smile. “Slimy yet satisfying.”

Sophie could tell that Marlon was trying to show he didn’t mind that she ate bugs. She immediately perked up at the thoughtful gesture.

“I’m sorry, Soph. I was meeting with Mr. Everett and I totally gave you the wrong impression. I wasn’t freaked out or anything by you eating all those bugs.”

“Really?” Sophie smiled over at her boyfriend.

“Really?” Renata’s voice caused the others to look over at Renata who had a mischievous smirk on her face. Her tail curled into a question mark. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is!” The huldra’s hand rummaged through the lunch bag and revealed another fried worm sandwich. She tossed it in front of the dullahan. “Eating gummies is easy but why not try worms!”

“There was another sandwich!” Sophie’s eyes grew large. “Wait, Marlon, you don’t have to eat that.”

“No, it’s fine.” He took a half of the sandwich and with a deep breath took an enormous bite of it, hoping that it would prove how serious and heartfelt his words were. A loud crunching sound emitted from the sandwich as the dullahan took his time munching down on the bite in his mouth. A contemplative expression appeared on his face while he swallowed. “Hey, these aren’t half bad. But you’d probably enjoy it more than me.” Marlon handed over the remainder of his sandwich to Sophie who gave an excited crow in response.

Lunch continued on with happy and light conversations until the school bell rang. Sophie hopped down from her perch, flying over and landing beside Marlon and taking his hand. “Thanks for being cool about everything.” The harpy placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. The dullahan looked shocked for a second until his vision was thrown off by his head slipping backwards. Luckily Sophie was able to catch it in time. The couple looked at each other and laughed.

“It was nothing. I’m just glad I cleared up that misunderstanding.” Marlon’s hand swayed in time with Sophie’s. “So, ready for English?”

“Yep! Lead the way!” Sophie and Marlon walked together, talking about what Ms. Sarita would teach today. Both of them smiled and talked animatedly, happy to be spending some time together and glad to have the silly misunderstanding cleared up.

[curiositydooropened]

Movie Night

Steve skipped up the lawn to the Buckley’s front door, sneakers dampening in the wet grass. The nights turned darker quicker and the bustle of the beginning school year settled the streets of Hawkins. A chaotic summer full of new shopping centers and a town torn apart soon dipped to cool autumn nights, and the rumors seemed to fade with the falling of the leaves.

---

Read the rest on AO3 or keep reading.

Steve skipped up the lawn to the Buckley’s front door, sneakers dampening in the wet grass. The nights turned darker quicker and the bustle of the beginning school year settled the streets of Hawkins. A chaotic summer full of new shopping centers and a town torn apart soon dipped to cool autumn nights, and the rumors seemed to fade with the falling of the leaves.

Steve could still smell SS Butterscotch, still nursed the tear at his lip with a slick tongue, still heard Russian conversation ringing in his ears. With the new school year came study sessions for the nerds, who weren’t allowed to be out on school nights, and Steve found himself mostly alone in his room, haunted by plaid walls and the Flesh Monsters of his mind. He thought he’d be used to it by now. A nineteen year old guy shouldn’t be afraid of the dark.

And yet, he practically sprinted from his BMW to the Buckley’s front stoop. The wrap of his knuckles was answered by a stately woman in a power suit, clearly readying herself to be out the door as fast as he had entered. “Mr. Harrington,” the woman commented with a knowing smirk on red lips. She fastened a pearl stud to her earlobe. “I didn’t know we were expecting you.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Buckley,” Steve leaned awkwardly on the balls of his feet, unsure if he was permitted to enter or if he should just leave now. He never knew where he stood with the Robin’s parents.

Understandably, they believed Steve had pulled their daughter from a burning building. Robin was convinced her mom thought they were screwing, an uncomfortable tidbit that sent Steve’s cheek burning as he stared into the older woman’s eyes. Robin’s father was a military man, not around much, intimidating as hell.

“That’s quite alright, dear. What are you two up to tonight?” Again, the look.

Steve rocked back on his heels, running an awkward hand through his hair. “Oh I don’t know. I think watch a scary movie?”

“How exciting. I’m off to a book club night. I’ll be home late. Take of her, will you?” Mrs. Buckley shoved a book under her arm for emphasis, the cover was stained purple and atop it was a Fabio-haired man that reminded Steve a little too much of Billy Hargrove. He blanched.

“Mom, go!” Robin’s voice called from within the house.

Mrs. Buckley waved her off with a smile. “I’m going, I’m going! Lock up behind me. You kids have fun!” And she was off.

Robin stood atop the staircase, all legs under an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was a mess in a scrunchie atop her head, and she stood with one hand on her hip, the other gesturing for him to hurry his ass inside. It’s getting cold.

Steve did as instructed, slipping soggy sneakers onto the entry mat and shrugging off his red and white puffed jacket. Dustin had asked him where he’d gotten it. He didn’t share, figured he’d get it for the kid for his birthday coming up.

“I’m thinking Evil Dead,” Robin squawked her way around the corner and up the stairs, not bothering to make sure he had followed.

Steve groaned. “Again? It’s like I’ve befriended Jonathan Byers.”

“You have befriended Jonathan Byers.” Robin reminded him, stopping at the doorway to her bedroom to prove her point.

“Shared trauma does not make us friends.”

“Shared girlfriend might.”

“Fuck off.”

Robin grinned.

Robin’s bedroom was a hodge podge of nerdom and geekery. It wasn’t covered in Science crap like Dustin’s, but the Arts. There were hand painted Drama masks in one corner and a Saxophone stand in the other. She had a collection of video cassettes and vinyl records and everything was bright colors and black all at once. She’d carved sonnets into her headboard with a ball point pen. A small television stand stood opposite her bed, just beside a window. She climbed out that window one night, late August, and biked to his house. They stayed up for hours outside the pool, talking about Starcourt, talking about it all.

Unceremoniously, she plopped onto her bed, belly first, legs flopping behind her. She fluffed a pillow under her chest and patted the spot next to her for Steve to sit. At the foot of the bed, near her head, was a bowl of popcorn and a platter of assorted candies. The colorful gummies reminded Steve of topping sundaes and his head spun a little. Reluctantly, he slipped beside her, back to her headboard, socked feet near her shoulder.

“Keith said they’re hiring down at Family Video,” Robin offered, pulling a gummy worm between her teeth. She leaned forward for the remote and the bed shifted under her weight.

“Ugh, Keith?”

“A job’s a job, dingus. Do you want cash or not?”

Steve supposed she was right. Well, it was Robin, she was always right. But the idea of slinging video tapes next to Loud Mouth Buckley and Pizza Face didn’t seem ideal. Although, his dad had been on his ass again. The novelty of his traumatic incident had seemed to have worn off on the old man. Steve should suck it up.

“So how’s school?” Steve asked as Robin fast forwarded through the commercials.

She shrugged. “Weird. It’s almost like no one else fought a human flesh monster from another dimension.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, that’s so bizarre.”

Robin rolled over to face him. “No really, though. It sucks. It’s like everyone just forgot.”

“Everyone that could,” Steve nodded. He picked at a pen mark on the lap of his jeans.

“Nancy’s doing well,” Robin prodded at him with a spindly finger.

“I didn’t ask.” Steve sighed.

“I know, but you loooooved her,” Robin cackled. He always forgot how juvenile she was.

“Yeah, well, I’m seeing that… Patsy girl, or whatever.” He’d taken a girl from high school on a couple of dates now. She was a senior too, a little geeky. They mostly made out in his car. She was a sloppy kisser and didn’t seem like she was going to put out, and she definitely wasn’t relationship material.

“Ugh,” Robin rolled her eyes. “I told you not to go there. She’s a lost cause.”

“Apparently that’s my type,” Steve sighed. “Are we going to watch this movie or what?”

Steve didn’t know how they did it, how they could through hours of prosthetic makeup and gore and horror, after what they’d been through. Maybe they were desensitized. Scary movies just weren’t scary anymore, they were almost comical. Bruce Campbell had no idea of the real horrors that were out there, that walked among us. The worst of it was, most of Steve’s nightmares weren’t even about the monsters he’d seen and killed, but about the humans, the ones that got away.

The film had ended and he wiped at tired eyes, propped up against his bent knee. Robin slurped the last few bubbles from her can of Coke and threw her head back against the headboard. “Dingus?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’re going to be fucked up forever?”

“Probably.” Steve sighed. The red thread had become to pull loose on the toe of his sock. “I used to think I could be normal if I just pretended. Like, if I just act like a normal teenager, I am a normal teenager, but I think that’s… bullshit.” He snorted.

“Yeah, it’s like, I want to do normal teenaged shit, like get stoned with my friends after band class, but I can’t because I’m terrified I’m going to let it all out, and then they’re going to just ditch me because I’ll be that freak girl who makes up monsters.”

Steve ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess I never really thought of that. I always had Nancy, and then when I didn’t, I just channeled it into sports, I guess.”

“Ugh, sports,” Robin scoffed.

A moment passed between them.

“Dingus?”

“Yeah, Rob,” he closed his eyes, leaning his chin on his knee. He wondered if he had patience for more of her questions tonight. The lure of his bed at home seemed ever present, and sometimes he wanted to shut out the horror, to turn off his brain and think of sports and video games and the girls in magazines in his closet and not Hawkins and all of this shit.

“When I go to college, are you coming with me?”

He hadn’t thought of that, and he didn’t want to. The prospect of college felt far off, unwelcome, felt like something he wasn’t built to endure. He worried too much about his kids, his family, he had to take care of them now that Hopper was gone, and Joyce. He had to fill that void, subconsciously of course. “I don’t know, Rob. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“That’s fine,” she agreed. He was glad she knew he needed to take things slow. “I’m forcing you to apply for Family Video with me though.”

He groaned, flopping dramatically to the pillow beside her. She laughed and splayed a hand across his chest. “Think of the babes, Harrington.” She said softly. “Chicks love movies.”

Steve managed to slip out the door just as Mrs. Buckley was arriving home. The woman giggled her way up the stoop, slipping in heels, breath wine soaked. She gave Steve a kiss on the cheek, smearing her lipstick as she went, and he blushed as she grappled his arms for stability when she removed her shoes from her heels.

“Have a goodnight, Mrs. Buckley,” he managed, getting ready to close the door behind himself, but the woman stopped him with a slammed hand.

Her face went suddenly sober, eyes brimming with emotion. “Thank you for saving my little girl.”

He smiled softly and nodded. “Anytime, Mrs. Buckley,” and he meant it.