#idk i had an entire 5 and a half hour work shift to think about this

[tennessoui]

OOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For the prompts - childhood best friend au bc i’m a sucker for them

- tealbluemagic

ah yikes i had thought and scripted like....two more scenes of them actually growing up (16/20 and 22/26) in my head dialogue and all but suddenly this was 2.3k because once again i was worldbuilding my cares away RIP!! palpatine was supposed to be the evil adviser it was gonna be great sad days.

2. Childhood best friends AU (medieval, fantasy, royalty AU--whichever term conveys the absolute zero amount of fact-checking that I have done)

They meet when Anakin is seven and Obi-Wan eleven.

Anakin’s tutor wants him to write lines. Again. According to the man, his letters do not look kingly enough.

Thank the gods that he set him to work and then left to flirt with the chambermaid. Otherwise, he probably would have had something very mean to say about the lack of kingliness that is required to climb out the window and down the ivy creeping up the castle.

Anakin lands on his feet and looks up in time to see his tutor’s red face in the window. “Prince Anakin!” The man yells, but no one is around to grab at him and he’s a very fast runner, even at the age of seven. He takes off to the gardens, laughing in joy at the freedom of it all.

Through the gardens and at the edge of the grounds are the stables. He’s not allowed to go there yet, because he is so small and the horses so big. It’ll be the last place they’ll check for him.

Anakin bursts through the doors and runs headlong into another boy, knocking him clean off his feet and into a pile of straw.

“Hey!” The boy shouts, shoving Anakin harshly off of him, face turning almost as red as his hair. Anakin blinks stupidly up at him as he rises and puts his hands on hips. “Who do you think you are?”

“I come seeking shelter and refuge as the prince of the kingdom of Tatooine,” Anakin blurts out the phrase he’s been taught to say should he ever find himself in danger in a new land.

Both of the boy’s eyebrows go up, and he looks scared for a second, which Anakin doesn’t understand. He’s much bigger than Anakin is and he’s still standing all angry over him. If anything, Anakin should be the one scared.

“Uh. Okay. Yeah, you can stay,” the boy says, backing away and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Just please don’t tell anyone I shoved you, your um highness. I need this job.”

Anakin lifts his hand so the boy can help him up, but the other boy doesn’t do anything but stare at it with a furrowed brow. “You may help me stand,” Anakin prompts him.

“Shouldn’t be touching no prince,” the boy mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “People can get killed for less.”

“Well, I want you to help me,” Anakin says, glaring at the boy who’s being very stubborn and silly right now. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

The boy looks skeptical, but takes his hand in his.

“What’s your name?” He asks him as he brushes off his fine clothes.

Now the boy just looks reluctant, but he must know better than to disobey a command from his sovereign, even when the sovereign in question is a child, because he crosses his arms over his chest and mumbles out, “Obi-Wan, milord.”

“I’m Anakin,” Anakin says, even though the boy probably knows this. It’s still only polite and his mother has always told him that being polite is one of the best things a prince can be.

“Yeah,” the boy says. Maybe his mother had never given him the same lesson. “I have to get back to work now, milord,” he turns before Anakin dismisses him, which is quite unheard of. Maybe Obi-Wan’s never been to court. Judging by the state of his clothes and the dirt on his face and beneath his nails, Anakin decides that’s probably true.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asks curiously, following behind the boy. It’s just he doesn’t meet a lot of boys his age and sure, this boy seems a bit mean and certainly at least a little uncivilized, but he still let Anakin stay.

“Shoveling horse shit,” Obi-Wan says. “Would you like to help?”

Anakin wrinkles his nose. “What’s up there?” he asks, pointing to a ladder as they pass it.

“That’s where we keep the hay. And it’s where I sleep.”

“You sleep here?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t respond, but his cheeks grow a dull sort of red.

Tactfully, Anakin changes the subject. “What else do you do?”

“Feed the horses, brush them, put them out to pasture, call them in, brush them again,” Obi-Wan lists. “When a nobleman wants to ride, I tack up their steed for them.”

A horse blows out a breath, right near Anakin’s face and he flinches, clinging onto the back of Obi-Wan’s shirt automatically. “And they let you?” he asks, trying to sound like he isn’t frightened.

“They don’t have much choice,” Obi-Wan says, smiling a bit as if something is funny. “Bit of a luxury around here, choice is.”

“What happens if they don’t?” Anakin asks, deciding to not let go of Obi-Wan’s shirt. Any proper gentleman or lady would have offered to let him hold their hand by now, but Obi-Wan is rough around the edges. Anakin finds that he doesn’t mind much.

Obi-Wan casts a look at him from the corner of his eye that Anakin doesn’t know how to interpret. “They get whipped.”

Anakin gasps in shock. “That’s so barbaric!”

The other boy snorts and shakes his head, as if Anakin is just too dumb to understand. “What are you doing here, little Prince?” Obi-Wan asks as he finishes dumping a pail of water into a horse’s bucket. “Why're you running?”

“My tutor was being absolutely awful,” Anakin replies with a pout. Obi-Wan hums, grabbing a shovel from where it’s leaned against a wooden door and carrying it to an empty stall. He follows him, wanting a proper response from the other boy. All that writing had been hurting his hand! The tutor is so unfair and mean and evil, and Anakin deserved to be treated with dignity and respect!

He tells all of this to Obi-Wan as he paces in the tight space of the stall, the other boy occasionally making noises to show he’s listening as he goes about his work.

“I don’t know what sort of problem he has with my letters! I know all of them now! Isn’t that enough?” Anakin asks angrily, crossing his arms. He’s tired and wants to sit down, but it smells poorly here. Maybe he can convince Obi-Wan to go to the ponds with him?

But Obi-Wan pauses, leaning against the handle of his shovel to look at Anakin. “You shouldn’t be complainin’ about getting to learn to read and write,” Obi-Wan says and then hastily tacks on, “milord.”

“But I don’t like it, and I shouldn’t have to do things I don’t like,” Anakin protests.

Obi-Wan smiles in a funny way. “You think I like shoveling shit, do you? But someone has to do it.”

“Are you saying that someone has to read and w--”

Obi-Wan interrupts him loudly. No one’s ever really done that before.

“I’m sayin’ that reading and writing is a...a privilege, milord.” He says the word privilege like he hasn’t ever said it before, like someone had said it around him and he’d memorized the sound and played it back in his head every night.

Anakin pouts, and Obi-Wan must see the look on his face because he softens his voice when he speaks again. “There’re...people who would kill for a teacher and they got none. If I was you, I wouldn’t ever leave my lessons early.”

Anakin crosses his arms. “But you’re not me. And I get to do whatever I want.”

It’s like a wall comes up between them. “That’s a luxury too, milord,” Obi-Wan says, turning away. “Excuse me. I need to work.”

The way he says this makes it clear that he doesn’t want Anakin around him anymore. “Fine!” Anakin snaps, face pulled up into a scowl. He pushes past Obi-Wan as hard as he can, hoping he can make the boy fall again, and leaves the way he’s come.

How dare the little stable boy try to correct Anakin’s behavior, when he’s the one with dirt all over his face!

He storms back to the castle and is in a horrifically terrible mood the entire rest of the night, right up until he goes to bed. Obi-Wan doesn’t know anything about anything, Anakin tries to reassure himself. He should have never met him.

He flips onto his side in bed, scowling even harder when his eyes alight onto the practice papers his tutor had left for him.

In his mind, Obi-Wan’s words repeat even louder. If I was you, I wouldn’t ever leave my lessons early.

Anakin rolls away until he can stare up at the ceiling.

He’d wanted a friend, but Obi-Wan clearly hadn’t wanted Anakin there at all. He wouldn’t have made a good friend at all. Anakin should just forget him.

But he can’t. He wants Obi-Wan to like him, although he can’t understand why or how to proceed.

He flips back to face the room again, too restless for sleep.

Inspiration strikes quite suddenly, making him sit up in his bed.

There’s one thing he could do that would make Obi-Wan like him. But there’s no time to waste.

He hastily dresses in his discarded clothes from yesterday and grabs two of the books on his desk. There’s a leather satchel hanging from his wardrobe that he’s never used before, but it’s the perfect size now. He slings it over his little shoulders and leaves as quietly as he can.

It’s a dangerous but relatively short journey back to the stables. The gardens look much scarier at night, but Anakin is being so brave about it. He’s on a quest. He clutches his satchel to his chest at every jumping shadow, but he makes it to the stable door and then through it.

The ladder he had pointed out earlier is a few steps into the barn, past two stalls. The horses look much scarier now that he’s here alone; their eyes seem to glow in the dark. He scuttles past them and grabs at the first wooden beam. Obi-Wan. He’s doing this for Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, who is asleep among the hay, just at the top of the ladder. He’s curled up beneath a couple of blankets. He looks angry even in his sleep.

Anakin crawls forward and shakes him awake.

“Wha--” Obi-Wan jerks up.

Anakin clutches his package to his chest and sits cross-legged in front of him. “It’s me!”

“What?” The other boy asks, rubbing at his eyes. Anakin pouts. Has Obi-Wan really forgotten him in such a short period of time? That’s hardly fair, considering the fact that Anakin has not stopped thinking of him at all.

“It’s Anakin,” he says. “I came back.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan asks, squinting at him in the light of the moon that filters through the single window.

Anakin pouts harder. “I brought my stuff,” he says. It had seemed like such a brilliant idea, not even an hour ago, but in the face of Obi-Wan’s incredulity, Anakin only feels stupid. He pulls out the books anyway. “I thought. Well. That maybe I could teach you.”

Obi-Wan sits up all the way at this and bends forward to study the covers, although Anakin is sure he doesn’t understand the letters written on them. .

“Teach me?” Obi-Wan asks.

Anakin huffs. This is going to become quite a tedious conversation if all Obi-Wan does is repeat fragments of what Anakin says. “To read and to write.”

“Why?” he asks, but different than he had asked before.

He doesn’t think because I want you to like me would satisfy Obi-Wan now, and even Anakin knows it’s a rather weak explanation.

“Because...you want to know,” Anakin settles on saying, “and my mother always says that a king should do what he can to satisfy the desires of the kingdom.”

“Oh well,” Obi-Wan scoffs. “If the Queen says so.”

Anakin withdraws, stung at the other boy’s standoffish attitude. “Never mind,” he mumbles, reaching for the satchel to put away the books. “It was stupid.”

Obi-Wan’s hand flashes out to stop him. “No,” he says. “No, I’m sorry. I. Thank you, milord for this. You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“I’m offering you some lessons,” Anakin responds slowly. Maybe Obi-Wan had missed that part?

In the moonlight, Obi-Wan’s smile breaks across his face like a sunrise. “Of course, milord.”

“Call me Anakin,” Anakin demands. He wants a friend, not someone who will bow to his title or shy away from his crown. He wants an equal, a familiar. He wants Obi-Wan to treat him as if they carried the same amount of dirt and grime on their skin.

“Of course, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers, like he’s breaking a rule and afraid he’ll get caught. “But….”

“But what?” Anakin asks, scooting closer now that he knows he probably won’t be kicked off the loft to be fed to the horses in the morning.

“Did you bring a light to read by?” Obi-Wan asks, looking around his bare accommodations.

Anakin bites his lip and looks too, but the search is fruitless. “Well,” he says. “No.” The truth is that in the castle there’s always light when he needs light. There are always servants, ready to bustle in and solve his slightest inconvenience. He had never thought of light as a--what had Obi-Wan said earlier? A luxury.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan whispers, tracing the cover of the book with something like longing.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Anakin finds himself promising. “I’ll bring a candle or something. I will. Tomorrow night.”

“Really?” The other boy’s voice seems to get caught in his throat because it comes out sounding much weaker and higher than it ever has.

Anakin nods. He would. He’d come back every night for the rest of his life if it meant Obi-Wan would like him, if it meant they could be friends. “I promise,” he says, reaching out with his smallest finger.

Obi-Wan looks at it for a second before linking their fingers together. “Okay, milord,” he says. “I believe you.”

[jungshookz]

kiss me at midnight; myg

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; ceo!y/n x secretary!yoongiverse!! sfw!! fluff!! the title says it all!! this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for!! 

➺ wordcount; 8.1k

➺ summary; y/n finally musters up enough courage to tell yoongi about her i-know-i’m-your-boss-but-i-have-non-boss-feelings-for-you feelings. 

➺ what to expect; “careful, secretary min… i might have to give you a raise if you keep sweet-talking me like that.”

                                      »»————-　♡　————-««

“let’s see… the decorators are coming at 2, the caterers are coming at 6:30, the DJ is coming at 7…” yoongi reads out loud as he goes down his checklist, “the bartender sent over the special drinks menu which i emailed to you this morning, and- ah, right, the caterers mentioned that they were able to switch the mini hot dogs to sliders instead-”

“oh, that’s great! mini hot dogs just don’t carry the same level of class as teeny little hamburgers…” you narrow your eyes slightly as you clasp your hands in front of your face, tapping your fingers against each other, “what about the chocolate lava cakes?”

“mhm, don’t worry, those are on the menu as well, as per your request,” yoongi pauses, “ah- the people bringing the photo-booths are coming to set them up at 5 - we’ve already cleared out the space for them, so that should be good to go… also, are we putting a limit on photos?”

“a limit?”

“yes, a limit,” yoongi looks up at you and shrugs, “there’s only so much film and it wouldn’t be fair for one person to take ten photos and for another person to not have any at all.”

you immediately scoff before dismissing yoongi with a flick of your wrist, “silly yoongi, you can’t put a limit on fun. just tell them we’re willing to pay for extra film and for one of their workers to hang out at the party and wait until the booths need refilling.”

“there.. is no limit… on fun…” yoongi mutters to himself as he continues to scribble notes down in his notebook, “and… that’s it!” he clicks his pen before tucking it back into his shirt pocket, “pretty much everything has been taken care of. if all goes well, this’ll be a fantastic new year’s eve party.”

“yay!” you throw your hands up into the air before leaning back against your chair with a giggle, “this is so exciting. i love throwing parties!”

“and i love planning parties...” yoongi hums absentmindedly, looking back down at his list, “so i guess we make a pretty good team...”

“teamwork makes the dream work, right?”

“mm.” 

a couple seconds of silence ticks by as you scour through your brain for a new topic of discussion

you could... talk about the weather? 

or maybe ask him what he did over the weekend?

ask him about what he did on christmas day?? 

“so…” you clear your throat, smoothing your skirt down before folding your arms on your desk and leaning forward slightly, “you bringin’ any... hot dates to the party tonight?” 

wow

that was... not an ideal topic of discussion 

also, way to sound like a creep! 

“me?” yoongi glances up at you and tilts his head slightly, “well, i’ll be with you.” he pauses, dark brows knitting together, “did you… want me to bring a date?” he shifts in his seat, “i’m sure i can arrange for someone to accompany me if that’s what you want.”

“no!” your eyes widen and you shake your head quickly, “i mean- no, i was just- you know, i just- usually you have a plus-one that you bring to parties and, like, i’m sure that you probably had other new year’s plans that didn’t involve being at the party your boss is throwing- i’m just saying that perhaps, if you were planning on actually bringing someone, i just wouldn’t want to be a cock-block-” 

you’re cut off (thankfully) when yoongi’s phone suddenly starts to buzz on your desk

he extends his arm and catches it right as it’s about to fall off (which, admittedly, shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but yoongi could be sitting there doing nothing and you’d still find it attractive) 

he holds a finger up pardon himself and you nod before leaning back a little

“hello? …oh, perfect. yes, i can come and pick them up now…” yoongi trails off, sandwiching his phone in between his ear and his shoulder before pushing his sleeve up a little to check the time on his watch, “i can be there in… roughly half an hour? yes. alright. perfect. see you soon.”

he hangs up with a beep before looking back over at you, “sorry about that! your dress and heels are ready for pick-up. what were you saying before my phone went off?”

“hm?” you clear your throat, “oh! uh… nothing. i was just- you know, small talk. but you can go now if you want to- i mean, obviously you need to go and pick up my outfit for tonight so i’ll just let you go-”

“alright, perfect-” yoongi nods and gets up from his seat, “i shouldn’t take too long but if anything comes up, just call me-” 

“yep! you got it, homie-” you shoot finger guns at yoongi before quickly forcing your arms down and shoving both your hands in between your knees so that they won’t do anything like that again 

your face flushes bright red as soon as the door shuts behind yoongi and a quiet groan slips past your lips before you smack your forehead down on your desk 

jesus

that... was rough, to say the least! 

sure, you fumble over your words whenever you talk to yoongi on a regular basis, but it’s never usually this bad... 

what’s gotten into you today?!

maybe it’s just the pre-party jitters! 

“get it together, y/l/n.” you mutter to yourself, patting your cheeks lightly before pulling your laptop towards you and opening it up 

if there’s anyone who can get you get your shit together, it’s hoseok

Y/N Y/L/N (10:12AM): help me

you perk up when hoseok responds almost immediately, your laptop letting out a little ping! from his message

you have half a mind to scold him for not doing work and being on the company’s messaging system but you dO need to talk to him right now so 

Jung Hoseok (10:12AM): What did you do this time

Y/N Y/L/N (10:12AM): nothing!! idk what’s wrong with my mouth today i’ve never called anyone homie in my entire life 

Jung Hoseok (10:13AM): ?

Y/N Y/L/N (10:13AM): you had to be here to understand :-//

Jung Hoseok (10:13AM): Okay well

Jung Hoseok (10:13AM): I don’t know what I’m supposed to say now

Y/N Y/L/N (10:13AM): can you just come to my office because it’s too much to type out

Y/N Y/L/N (10:13AM): and bring me an iced coffee from the vending machine while you’re at it because yoongi left to pick my dress up

Jung Hoseok (10:14AM): Let me get this straight

Jung Hoseok (10:14AM): You want me to stop working and you want me to go to your office so we can gossip about Yoongi

Y/N Y/L/N (10:14AM): gossip sounds bad

Y/N Y/L/N (10:14AM): ‘discuss’ sounds more professional

Jung Hoseok (10:14AM): …

Jung Hoseok (10:15AM): See you in ten minutes lmao

                                     »»————-　♡　————-««

“you asked him if he was planning on bringing a date to the party?!” hoseok laughs, leaning back against the chair before folding his arms over his chest and shaking his head, “wow. what, are you going to help him plan his wedding too?”

“don’t say that!” you groan, rubbing your fingers against your temples in tight circles, “i was just trying to start a conversation… i don’t know...”

“start a conversation? about what? about encouraging yoongi to be with someone who isn’t you?” 

“keep up the attitude and i’ll reduce your lunch break from one hour and fifteen minutes to one hour and fourteen minutes.” you raise a brow in warning, hoseok gawking before wagging a finger at you 

“i’ll report you to HR for abuse of power!” he jokes, his smile faltering when he notices that you still have that mopey, kicked-in-the-gut look on your face, “okay, think about it this way: this party couldn’t have come at a better time, you know? because now you know exactly what you have to do!” 

“huh? oh, right.” you nod slowly, “yeah, of course i know what i have to do at tonight’s party.” you snort, pulling away from your desk and sitting up straight, “but... you know, just to make sure that you know what it is that i have to do, would you mind telling me what exactly we’re saying i have to do?”

“y/n. come on.” hoseok presses his lips together before leaning forward, “what do people usually do at new year’s eve parties?” he asks gently, in that infuriatingly condescending tone that people usually use when they’re talking to children

“people share their new year’s resolutions with each other?” you hum, thinking back to the new year’s eve party you were at last year where you ended up talking to a very friendly bartender about all the plans you had in mind for the new year 

hm

you can’t help but wonder how he’s doing 

“well, yeah, but not quite what i had in mind-” hoseok shakes his head, “what else do they do?”

“they... sing karaoke really loudly?” you frown before letting out a gasp, “oh no! i didn’t think of that! do you think it’s too late to rent a karaoke machi-”   

“wow, i really have to spoon-feed this to you-” hoseok slaps his hands against his thighs before letting out a huff, “a new year’s kiss, y/n. does that ring any bells?”

“oh, right! i forgot about that part,” you chuckle lightly, tilting your head back against the top of your chair to look up at the ceiling, “but what does that have to do with-” you pause, head snapping back down to look at hoseok with wide eyes, “oh, you’re saying that i should- with yoongi- hoseok, i can barely look at yoongi for five seconds without breaking eye contact-” 

“why not?! its new years! you have to have someone to smooch when it’s midnight. even i have someone to kiss!”

“wait, who are you kiss-” 

“and you know what the best part is?” hoseok grins, “you have an excuse to get super drunk tonight! and a drunk y/n is a slightly more confident y/n-”

“oh, i can’t- i can’t ask him, no.” you chuckle nervously, your hands suddenly feeling a little clammy at the thought of asking yoongi to kiss you, “because then he’s going to feel like he has to kiss me because i’m his boss, and the next thing you know, i’m being called up to HR-” 

“you’re overthinking this again, y/n,” hoseok sighs, “don’t forget the fact that i caught him checking you out at the halloween party. you have to admit that he’s slightly interested in you.”

“that’s different!” you argue, your brows furrowing, “i was dressed as a sexy friggin’ bunny, for god’s sake!”

“and tonight, you’ll be dressed as a sexy friggin’ boss! the only difference is that you won’t have a little cotton tail and two bunny ears-”

“i don’t know…”

hoseok rolls his eyes at your doubt and resists the urge to get up and slap you across the face to get you to come to your senses

you can’t expect anything to happen between you and yoongi if you’re not willing to do something about it in the first place

he can’t even list out how many times you guys have had similar conversations that always end in you chickening out and changing your mind

you were supposed to make a move at the halloween party but you ended up bailing on the plan at the last minute and hoseok had to listen to half an hour of you whining about it over the phone 

he adores you but sometimes he just wants to grab you and yell at you for being such a wimp when it comes to yoongi 

“okay, you know what? forget yoongi. i’ll be your new year’s kiss!” hoseok teases, leaning forward before wiggling his eyebrows enticingly, “maybe if people see me canoodling with the boss i’ll finally get the street cred i deserve-”

“you know, i don’t know if i’ve reached that level of desperation quite yet-”

“i’m a great kisser, so it’s your loss...” hoseok kisses his teeth, raising his hands in defense, “anyways, just try not to overthink it. take a deep breath, relax, and hopefully you won’t point any more lame finger guns at yoo-”

“-ooou’re fired!” you stand up and slam your fist down on the desk the moment yoongi steps into the room, hoseok jolting at the sudden announcement, “you are fired, my good sir! you heard me loud and clear!” 

yoongi’s eyes widen slightly and he presses his lips together before stepping aside and lowering his head  

“what the hell are yo-” hoseok glances over his shoulder and it dawns over him when he spots yoongi standing by the door, “oh! oh. uh, okay. yes... i am... devastated...” he clears his throat as he rises from the chair slowly, “please... give me a second chance? i... won’t do it again?” 

you blink, pulling down your blazer slightly before giving him a curt nod

“...okay, but this is your last chance. next time, you’re really fired.” you clear your throat, sitting back down before gesturing towards the door, “you may leave now, mr. jung.” 

yoongi nods in acknowledgement when hoseok walks past him and he waits a couple of seconds before speaking up 

“sorry. i didn’t realize you were busy because the door wasn’t closed all the way.” he smiles sheepishly, raising the garment bag in his hand, “i just wanted to put your dress in the closet for you.” 

“yes! go ahead.” you smile, gesturing towards the closet before sitting back down in your chair 

“by the way, i passed by that breakfast place on the way to the laundromat-” yoongi pauses, glancing over at you on his way to the closet, “you know, the place that makes those BLT bagels you like so much?” 

“ooh, with the spicy mayo and the avocado?”

“mhm-” yoongi smiles, shutting the closet door gently and turning to face you, “they do chocolate chip waffles now and i thought maybe that’d be something you’d be interested in for future breakfasts.” 

“oh, no way!” your eyes widen in excitement, “i’m very interested in chocolate chip waffles for future breakfasts!”

“that’s what i thought.” he chuckles, making his way back towards the doors, “anyway- i’ll be out there if you need me, boss.” 

“mhm!” 

you immediately get up from your chair as soon as yoongi leaves the room 

you told yourself that you were going to wait until tonight but you’ve been thinking about your dress all week and you wanna see it now!! 

“dress, dress, dress-” you murmur to yourself like a maniac, your heels clicking against the floor as you jog over to the closet 

you push down a squeal of excitement after unzipping the garment bag and getting a good look at your outfit for tonight

you spent hours searching for the perfect dress and it was totally worth it now that you’re looking at it  

it’s a navy blue midi-length dress that sort of cinches in at the waist but the skirt itself is relaxed so you don’t need to worry about your legs being constricted 

there’s also a high slit in the skirt which is exciting (you had to shave your legs yesterday which wasn’t as exciting) 

and it’s a long sleeve dress but the sleeves and sheer and billowy but cap around your wrists 

it’s classy but also a little sexy but not like your halloween playboy costume level of sexy

you’re still not sure what possessed you to dress up as a playboy bunny but even you have to admit that that little black dress looked great on you 

you zip the bag back up before pushing it aside to sneak a peek at the suit that yoongi will be wearing to the party 

he asked if he could keep his suit in your closet and obviously you said yes because it’s yoongi 

your eyes light up when you notice something peculiar about his outfit 

it’s navy blue as well!! 

the corners of your mouth lift in a wide grin, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of you and yoongi (unintentionally, but still) wearing matching colours tonight 

heh 

                                    »»————-　♡　————-««

“c’mon, stupid thing...” yoongi frowns to himself as he struggles to tie his tie

he’s been at it for the last ten minutes and it seems like his gummy worm fingers aren’t going to be useful anytime soon 

and it probably doesn’t help that he’s using his phone camera as a mirror instead of going to the bathroom to use the actual mirror

he doesn’t know if it showed this morning but he’s been a nervous wreck all day! 

he practically zipped out of your office as soon as he had the chance to and he just hopes that you’re not suspecting anything 

it’s just that as each day goes by, he gets more and more conflicted over what to do about his feelings for you 

this wasn’t supposed to happen!

when he first realized that you liked him, he was flattered and admittedly it was a nice stroke to his ego knowing that his boss was interested in him, but he didn’t know it’d turn into this 

he didn’t know he’d end up liking you back 

this is a disaster! 

he’s not supposed to like you back!

he already tried forcing himself to stop liking you but if anything it’s made things worse

he thought your schoolgirl crush was sweet at first and then one day he found your poor excuse of asking him to stay after hours to help you re-organize your pens was cute and ever since then it’s gone downhill 

like the other day when he was eating lunch with you - you took the paper sleeve that holds the chopsticks and you folded it into a makeshift chopstick rest and gave it to him to use and,,. he’d have to be crazy to not find that wildly endearing

yoongi lets out a huff and leans back against his chair as he looks at himself on his phone screen 

“good going, moron.” he grumbles to himself before lifting his hand and flipping himself off, “you and your feelings.”

of course, it’s not technically a... bad thing that he likes you back, right? 

...but what’s everyone going to think?

he knows that he’s on the list of people getting the christmas bonus (because he helped you type it out) but what if people think he just slept his way to the money?? 

oh, god

that’s not who he is!

this is too much to think about right now 

he just had this suit pressed and he’s not about to ruin it by nervously sweating in it 

he’s just going to enjoy this party with you and then deal with his feelings later!  

future yoongi can handle it

present yoongi is just going to enjoy the ride B-) 

“whatcha up to?” 

“-!” yoongi jumps and scrambles up from his seat when he hears your voice all of a sudden, “y/n! sorry, i didn’t hear you come out of... your... office...” he trails off, voice softening slightly as he takes in how beautiful you look in your dress 

obviously he already knew what you were going to wear because he was the one who picked up your outfit from the dry cleaner’s but... it’s a different experience actually seeing you in it 

beautiful 

there’s really no other way to describe it

you look... beautiful. 

“i don’t know why on earth you’re wearing a tie to a party.” you snort, eyes flicking down to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, “this isn’t a business meeting, yoongi.” (you decided it’d be best to take hoseok’s advice. no overthinking - just relaxing! and it seems to be going well...) 

“oh.” yoongi snaps himself out of his daze before shaking his head, “i… i don’t know why, either. i guess i’m just used to wearing a tie.”

“well, i say ditch it - you know, let loose a little! it’s new year’s eve, after all.” 

before yoongi even knows it, you’re stepping towards him and sliding the tie from his neck in one swift movement before tossing it onto his desk

ᵒ ᵍᵒᵈ

you even smell pretty 

he freezes when you reach up to undo a couple of buttons on his shirt, his hands gripping the edge of his desk so tightly that his knuckles are stark white 

“there we go!” you smile, fixing yoongi’s collar before nodding to yourself, “much better. also, do you think you can help me with my heels? i put them on already but the little buckles are flimsy and i can’t do them because of my nails.” you raise both your hands before wiggling your fingers 

“mhm, of course.” yoongi steps aside and gestures towards his chair, “take a seat and i’ll take care of them for you.”

yoongi’s chair squeaks slightly as you sit down on it and you make a mental note to get him a new one 

...maybe you should get everyone in the office new chairs to make your crush on yoongi less obvious

hm

lots to think about

“so, do you think anyone’s going to have fun tonight?” you ask quietly, leaning back against the chair, “i’m nervous.” 

“i’m sure everyone’s going to have fun, y/n,” yoongi lowers himself onto the ground so that he’s down on one knee before raising your leg so that your foot is pressed against his chest, “they get free food, free alcohol, and there are fun 2021 party hats and stupid 2021 glasses to match. what’s not to love?”

“me. i’m the part they don’t love.” you snort, propping your elbow up on yoongi’s desk before leaning against your fist, “i’m gonna take one step onto the rooftop and immediately ruin the party somehow. i bet the dj will stop playing music and his records will make that awkward scratchy sound.”

“don’t be so harsh on yourself…” yoongi scolds, tucking the thin strap into the buckle and giving it a little tug to make sure it’s nice and secure before lowering your foot gently, “besides, if anyone looks at you weirdly, i can just call security and have them escorted out of the party.” he tuts, smiling up at you as he lifts your other foot 

“ooh. careful, secretary min… i might have to give you a raise if you keep sweet-talking me like that.” you joke, pushing the ball of your foot gently against yoongi’s chest teasingly

“oh, yeah? i wouldn’t be opposed to that, boss…” the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a side smirk as he slips the other strap into place, “alright, there we go! heels are nice and secure.”

he gets up from the ground, dusting his knee off before extending his hand to help you get up from his chair, “ready?” 

“as ready as i’ll ever be...” you reach for his hand only to pause, your nose scrunching slightly as you pull away, “i don’t know. let’s think this through. do we have to go to the party?”

“well, you are the host.” yoongi points out, “and i planned the whole thing! do you know how hard it was to arrange for a karaoke machine on new year’s eve?” he frowns playfully, “you can’t bail on me like this.” 

“i guess...” 

“listen- whenever you want to leave, just let me know and i’ll grab the entire plate of sliders, a crisp bottle of champagne, and then we’ll head back down here to eat, drink, and watch the fireworks from your office window.” yoongi tilts his head, his hand still out for you to take, “deal?” 

“...throw in the chocolate lava cakes as well and we have a deal.” 

                                   »»————-　♡　————-««

“wow! you really outdid yourself, yoongi.” you nod in approval as you look around, “look at this place!” 

you never even knew the rooftop had the ability to look like some trendy upscale bar that sells cocktails for $30 each 

“hey, if this secretary thing doesn’t work out, maybe i could become a party planner.” yoongi jokes, lifting his glass up with a smile

“you know, i really think you could.” you clink your glass against his before taking a sip of the bubbly champagne, “by the way, you don’t have to hang out with me all night. you’re allowed to go and mingle with your coworkers.” 

“i know.” yoongi hums before his nose scrunches slightly, “but every time i talk to them, they’re always gossiping about something and i think gossiping is unproductive.” 

“wha-” you gawk, your lashes fluttering, “you’re telling me that you’ve had access to juicy office gossip this whole time and not once have i ever heard any of it??”

“i mean...” 

“you have to tell me something. i’ll take anything!” 

you grin excitedly when yoongi gestures for you to come in closer 

“jungkook and tzuyu had sex on the photocopier by the supplies room.” he blurts out quickly, clearing his throat before taking a sip of his own champagne, “but you didn’t hear it from me!”

“they- what?!” you gasp in shock, jaw practically dropping to the floor, “they did?? during work??”

“no, it was after work!” yoongi shakes his head, “i think you had a meeting across town that night which is why we weren’t here... otherwise we... probably would’ve heard it but- it’s on the CCTV security cameras and everything. of course, since the photocopier is kind of out of frame, you can only see their lower halves-”

“well, then how do you know it was jungkook and tzuyu??” 

“their shoes! and jungkook’s socks. he’s the only one who wears bright purple rubber-duckie socks to work.” 

the two of you turn to look at jungkook across the rooftop and you blink before looking back over at yoongi with a pout 

“that’s my favourite photocopier.” you mutter, “i hope they didn’t get any... fluids inside of it-”

“gross! why would it be inside of the machine?!”

“i don’t know! people go crazy during sex sometimes!” you raise your hands in defense before clearing your throat quietly, “okay, but seriously, i feel like having vigorous sex on a piece of office equipment is definitely violating something so i might have to bring them in for a little chat-”

“ooh, can i be there when you scold them?” 

“absolutely-”  

“miss y/n?” you jump in surprise when someone taps your shoulder gently from behind

you glance over your shoulder to see joy before smiling politely, turning around fully to face her, “joy! what’s up?”

“i’d like to talk to you about something, if that’s alright - do you have a moment?” 

“oh! um, of course-” you pause, turning to hand yoongi your glass, “let’s head over there for some privacy. what’s on your mind?” 

“it’s just... you know, regarding past comments i may or may not have made about you-” she chuckles uneasily, “seeing as you still have to figure out who’s getting christmas bonuses this year, i thought that-” 

yoongi bites back a grin when you turn back to look at him with pleading eyes and he shrugs helplessly before raising his own glass at you and downing the rest of the champagne 

                                  »»————-　♡　————-««

yoongi’s never been a huge fan of parties mainly because he’d much rather enjoy a bottle of champagne and full-sized burgers in the comfort of his own home 

he really only started going to parties once you became CEO of the company and he wasn’t left with a choice because he was worried that you’d fire him if he didn’t attend any of these festive celebrations 

he likes to think that you’ve opened him up to new experiences, helping him become a better human being overall 

:-) 

“hey!” yoongi chokes on his tiny burger patty when someone gives his back a hearty slap, “i’ve been looking for you everywhere! i have a bone to pick with you, min yoongi.”

yoongi’s brows furrow in confusion when it’s hoseok that plops down on the bar stool next to him 

“what-” yoongi swallows his bite before giving his chest a couple of pats to help get the masticated chunks of meat down smoother, “what did i do??” 

hoseok opens his mouth to say something before pausing, eyes flickering to the side as he reconsiders what he’s about to say 

he’s a little tipsy thanks to the open bar so he didn’t really think this decision through but he’s here now so it’s a little late to back out 

you explicitly asked him not to meddle but he feels like if he doesn’t do anything, then you’ll never do anything and you’ll just go to the grave keeping your feelings for yoongi a secret 

does this count as meddling? 

he just has to find a way to steer the conversation towards the topic of you and yoongi and romance 

this might be meddling, now that he’s thinking about it

...

it’s fine! 

he’ll do it in such a subtle way that yoongi won’t even notice! 

“it’s not something that you’ve done. it’s something that you haven’t done.” hoseok clears his throat, narrowing his eyes at yoongi suspiciously, “do you like y/n? because she likes you.”

(not very subtle, but hoseok never likes to beat around the bush.) 

“woah-” yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise and he lets out a nervous chuckle before looking around, “ha, i- um- where did you get that idea from?” 

“you didn’t deny it.” hoseok grins in success, “so you do?” 

“i...” yoongi pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek before he lets out a huff and his shoulders droop in defeat, “yeah. yeah, i do. ...but what does that have to do with you?” 

“oh, it has everything to do with me!” hoseok chirps, clapping his hands together excitedly, “i’m here to give you advice!” 

“yeah, okay,” yoongi immediately scoffs and rolls his eyes as he turns back to pick up his drink, “no offense, but i don’t think i should be getting advice from the guy who was almost fired today-”

“oh, please, i wasn’t getting fired when you walked in.” hoseok raises a brow, “we were talking about you before you barged in so y/n obviously panicked and changed the subject to make it look like she wasn’t going all goo-goo-ga-ga over you-” 

“what? you were- y/n was talking about me?” yoongi perks up, his interest in the conversation suddenly reigniting, “really?” 

“she’s always talking about you,” hoseok points out, “don’t get me wrong - i love going to her office to talk about you instead of doing my work, but it’s exhausting! which is part of the reason as to why i’m willing to give you advice to get this show on the road.” 

“i don’t need advice, though.” 

“of course you need advice. if one of you finally made a move, i wouldn’t need to give you advice, but here i am.” hoseok gestures to himself before shrugging, “so... what’s wrong with you?”

yoongi scoffs in offense

that’s a little ruDE

“what’s wrong with me?”

“yeah. why haven’t you made a move yet if you like y/n back?” hoseok emphasizes as a reminder that this crush goes two ways and that yoongi can be blamed for the lack of action just as much as you 

“because... i can’t! it’s not that easy, man.” yoongi shakes his head, “i can’t just ask her out. she’s... like... she’s miss y/n.” 

“yes. and the sky is blue.” hoseok frowns, “i’m sorry, what’s the problem?” 

“she’s the boss!” yoongi snaps, glaring over at hoseok, “she’s our boss!”

“exactly! she’s the boss! if you’re going to date someone in the office, it might as well be the person signing off everyone’s paycheques at the end of each month-” 

“but you can’t- the rules!”

“what rules??”

“there are no rules! that’s why i’m so confused! i’m used to rules! that’s how the world works in my head! what the hell am i supposed to do now? go rogue?! i’ve never gone rogue before!”

“oh, god, who do you think you are? some secret agent? all you’re doing is asking someone out-”

“i can’t date y/n-” 

“give me a legitimate reason as to why you can’t date y/n.”

“i’ll be penalized!” 

“who’s going to penalize you?!”

“the boss of our boss!” 

“please!” hoseok groans loudly, throwing his head back in frustration, “you don’t think he’s goofed around with any of his secretaries?”

“okay, but this isn’t me goofing around with y/n, this is me... being serious with y/n!” yoongi presses his lips together, unsure of what to say next, “yeah. i wanna be serious with y/n.” 

“i promise you that no one cares about relationships as long as work is handed in on time and bags of money are being made.” hoseok hums, gesturing for the bartender to fix up another drink for him 

having this conversation about you with yoongi is just as exhausting as having this conversation about yoongi with you 

...

he doesn’t know if that sentence made any sense but all this alcohol is making the words jumble up together 

“well, okay, but-” yoongi chuckles nervously, turning and setting his glass down on the bar countertop, “then we’d have to make a file with HR declaring the status of our relationship, and then we’d have to talk about whether or not we want to keep things private or let the whole office know- oh, god, and what if it doesn’t work out? what if we break up? it’d be embarrassing after having declared our love for each other in front of everyone! and favouritism! don’t even get me started on favouritism! people are going to bag on y/n if they find out that i’m on the list of people getting a bonus! ...but, in my defense, even if we weren’t together i would probably still be on that list because i’m hardworking-” 

“yoongi-” hoseok interrupts, slapping both his hands down on his shoulders before letting out a sigh, “do you like y/n?” 

“yes.” yoongi answers without missing a beat, “i like y/n. a lot.” 

“okay. then that’s all that matters, right?” 

yoongi opens his mouth to respond but he pauses

huh 

that... is a fair point... 

it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks about his relationship with you 

what is it about alcohol that makes some people so wise?

“do you know what kind of a person you’d be if you just repressed your feelings and pretended that they didn’t exist at all? a coward, that’s what you’d be. because y/n is a fantastic woman and you need to hurry up and make a damn move before she realises she’s wasting her time on you and moves on to someone else who isn’t afraid to show their true feelings for her.” hoseok shakes his head gently before pulling away from yoongi with a nonchalant shrug and a snort, “but, you know - i’m drunk as hell and i’ve had nothing to eat so all the things coming out of my mouth righ’now could be complete and utter bullshit!” he hiccups, giggling to himself, “who knows!”

“well… what do you suggest i do?”

“what else do you do at a new year’s eve party?” hoseok’s head flops to the side, the over consumption of nothing but champagne suddenly hitting him like a brick wall 

“…share new year’s resolutions?”

“wha- god, you guys are truly the perfect pair- no, dumbass, you kiiissss someone at midnight.” hoseok slurs, “you already know she’s into you. and now i know that you’re into her so she’s definitely not going to oppose giving you a big ol smooch!”

“well, it’s-” yoongi pulls his sleeve up to check his watch, anxiety bubbling in his stomach when he realizes there are exactly twelve minutes to midnight, “oh, god.” 

okay

that’s fine!

it’s fine, he can work with twelve minutes!

all he has to do is 1) find you, 2) start a casual conversation, 3) somehow transition the casual conversation into a not so casual conversation about his feelings for you, 4) transition from the not so casual conversation to asking if you’d like to be his new year’s kiss, 5)- 

“i can’t pull this off in twelve minutes. i don’t know how i’m going to do this!” yoongi swallows thickly, turning to look at hoseok (who’s starting to doze off), “how the hell am i going to do this??” 

hoseok picks himself up off the counter, turning to face yoongi before a wide smile spreads on his face and a little gasp of excitement slips past his lips, “hey! i’ve been looking for you everywhere. i have a bone to pick with you, min yoongi-” 

“okay, buddy-” yoongi quickly reaches out to keep hoseok from toppling over, “you’ve definitely had one too many-” 

                                  »»————-　♡　————-««

ding!

yoongi steps off the elevator with a huff, quickly checking the time on his watch for the millionth time tonight 

he spent two minutes running around the rooftop like a headless chicken in case you were still up there somewhere 

luckily jungkook told him that he saw you leave the rooftop and there’s really only one other place that you’d be 

he makes his way down the hallway towards the double doors of your office, smiling in success when he sees that one of the doors is slightly ajar 

bingo! 

maybe it’s because he’s now confident about his true feelings for you, but he feels like there’s a spring in his step right now! 

(it could also be because of the liquid courage, but that’s neither here nor there.)

he pushes the door open a little to stick his face in, giving himself a mental high five as he sees you leaning against your desk with a flute of champagne in your hand, staring out the window 

“hey!” yoongi clears his throat, knocking on the door gently, “there you are.”

“hm?” you turn to glance over your shoulder, “oh, yoongi! yeah, hey.” 

“i didn’t realize you’d disappeared... i would’ve brought the sliders with me if i knew you were in here.” he jokes, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click, “everything okay?”

“ah, well. maybe next time.” you smile stiffly, turning away from him to look back out, “yeah, everything’s fine. joy practically talked my ear off up there so i just felt like i needed to get away from the party for a little while.” 

“you know, the fireworks are starting soon...” yoongi points out as he makes his way over to you, “you’re probably going to get better pictures of them up there than down here in your office.” 

“yeah, i know… but it’s also going to be very loud up on the rooftop and i’d prefer to start the new year off with working eardrums.” your nose wrinkles as you let out a chuckle, “also, i…”

“what?”

“i… i don’t know, i just don’t really want to start the new year awkwardly standing in the middle while everyone else is getting new year’s kisses.” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck before chuckling awkwardly, “that… makes me sound like a very bitter single person and i swear it wasn’t supposed to come off that way-” 

“no, i totally get it.” yoongi shakes his head as he wipes his hands on the side of his pants, “as a matter of fact, i kind of wanted to talk to you about something-”

“hold on, hold on- before you say anything, i-” you interrupt him, turning to set your glass down, “i, um- i have something that i wanna say to you as well. can i go first?”

“oh! yes, okay….” yoongi cowers down a little, pressing his lips together tightly, “is... everything alright?”

“yeah!” you nod quickly before pausing, “i mean, sort of. kind of. i’m… not sure if it’s going to be a good idea or not, but i just want to let you know that if you… you know, if you feel uncomfortable or something after i tell you this, you’re free to pack up and leave, you know? i mean, i actually already have a letter of recommendation written for you so if you wanna go off and work for someone else, i’ve already put in a lot of good words for you-”

“woah, woah-” yoongi raises his hands before letting out a chuckle, “i- while i definitely appreciate the gesture, you know i’m… not planning on going anywhere, right?”

“yeah, well… things change!” you clear your throat, gaze averting as you reach up to scratch the back of your neck, “things... change. i… don’t mean to sound so elementary school about it, but i…” you trail off, the little voice in the back of your head reminding you that this is your last chance to back out and not tell yoongi about your feelings for him

you’ve chickened out more than a handful of times, so what’s going to different about this time around?

you look up at yoongi and he blinks twice before offering you a soft smile, “you…?”

oh 

how are you supposed to back out when he’s looking at you like that?

and maybe it’s just because he looks particularly handsome tonight in his suit or because you’re all riled up on cocktails, but...

“i like you.” you blurt out, trying your best not to cringe or make any faces, “like… in a… romantic? way?”

yoongi’s eyes widen and the smile fades from his face, though you don’t have much time to process whatever reaction that was before he’s speaking up 

“you like me.” yoongi repeats, swallowing thickly before nodding, “in a romantic way.”

“yeah.” you shrug, “and i have for a while, but i just never said or did anything about it because i thought it was inappropriate - you know, because i’m your boss and around the time i started liking you was when we held that seminar for workplace harassment and i didn’t want to make you feel like i was harassing you or creeping on you or anything - a-anyways, at first i thought i was attracted to you solely because you’re hot in that broody, college skater-boyfriend kind of way and i thought it’d go away on its own, but then the feelings never went away, and then i thought that maybe this was just a more serious schoolgirl-type crush that would take time to go away, but then a lot of time went by and it still didn’t go away, so… here we are now, at the end of the year, and i… still have a huge, huge crush on you-”

“-i like you too.” 

“okay, cool, but i’m not done talking about-” you pause, your eyes flickering upwards, “wait, what?” 

“i like you, y/n.” yoongi breathes out with a smile, his shoulders visibly relaxing, “actually, i’ve known for a long time that you liked me and at first i was just flattered and admittedly i was a little cocky about it but then i... actually started to like you one day and- well, i didn’t want to say anything because- woah-!”

yoongi yelps when suddenly a paperweight is hurled in his direction and nearly whacks him in the face, “what the f-”

“are you kidding me, yoongi?!” you snap, slapping your hands down as you glare at him across your desk, “are you kidding me?!” 

“okay, i-i-” yoongi stammers, “i wasn’t expecting this reaction so i’m not entirely sure how i’m supposed to-” 

“you knew that i liked you this entire time-” you groan, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “and you knew that you liked me this entire time... and you didn’t say or do anything about it?!”

“well, why didn’t you do anything about it first?” yoongi exasperates, “you- you’re just as much at fault here as i am!”

“because i-” you laugh lightly in disbelief, “because i thought that if i told you that i liked you, that you would feel pressured into saying that you liked me back because i’m your boss! how would i know if your feelings were genuine or if you were just playing along? of course i couldn’t tell you!” 

yoongi chews on the inside of his cheek anxiously as you let out a huff before stepping away from your desk and heading over to stand by the window again 

“i...” he trails off, bending down to pick up the paperweight before setting it down on your desk gently, “i’m sorry that you... struggled with that... but... i think the important thing is that i do like you, y/n. i genuinely like you, and i was an idiot for not saying anything earlier... i let my doubts get in the way and...” he sighs, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, “i’m not good at- i’m not good at dealing with this kind of stuff and usually i just brush it aside and hope the problem goes away but i see you almost every single day so i couldn’t just brush it aside-” 

“yeah, well-” 

both of you freeze up when you suddenly hear the countdown chanting echo from up on the rooftop and yoongi feels his heart plummet to his stomach when he realizes he didn’t even ask if you wanted to be his new year’s kiss 

shit 

shit!

“i’m just-” yoongi shakes his head furiously, “i get nervous when there are no rules and there certainly isn’t a handbook for what to do when you’re attracted to your boss-”

10!

you let out a scoff as you turn to face him, “-and you think there’s a handbook for what to do when you’re attracted to your secretary?!-” 

9!

“i was a total coward for not saying anything sooner and i wish i did! i wish i kissed you at the halloween party!”

8!

“you- you wanted to kiss me at the halloween party?” 

7!

“of course i did, dumbass!” the name slips out of yoongi’s mouth before he even realizes it and he smiles sheepishly when you give him a warning look, “...miss dumbass.”

6!

“anyways,” yoongi coughs, “i-if you’re still interested, i’d really like to kiss you tonight if that’s okay-” 

5!

“wait, did hoseok put you up to this?” you narrow your eyes in suspicion before pointing to yourself, “because he told me to ask you to kiss me tonight-”

“yeah, he put me up to this because we both know that you certainly weren’t going to make the first move-”

4!

“how dare you?” you scoff, crossing your arms stubbornly, “i could make the first move if i really wanted to-” 

3!

“what?! that’s bullsh- oh my god, can we agree now to kiss first and then argue about this later?!” yoongi snaps, eyes full of panic at the thought of not making it on time, “please??” 

2!

“fine, but-” 

1- HAPPY NEW YEAR! 

you don’t get a chance to say anything else before yoongi swoops in swiftly to lean in and kiss you, warm hands quickly reaching up to cup either sides of your face 

the sound of people cheering and fireworks going off in the sky is nothing compared to the erratic thumping of your heart and the high-pitched ringing in your ears 

oh, wow

your lashes flutter as you feel yourself relax, your fists uncurling against yoongi so that your hands rest on his chest

you can feel his rapid heartbeat through his shirt and that’s all the confirmation you need to know that yoongi really, truly likes you back 

yoongi’s hands leave your face so that he can reach down to grasp your hips and pull you towards him, only for his arms to snake around your waist a second later 

your hands slide up his chest before your arms wrap loosely around his neck, feeling as though nothing else matters except what’s happening right now 

you’ve dreamt about this moment for so long but it’s so much better than you could’ve possibly imagined it to be 

and you’re not sure if it’s the copious amount of champagne that you consumed tonight but you just feel so warm inside 

yoongi pulls away (far too soon for your liking), his eyes lidded and hazy as he smiles fondly down at you, “happy new year, boss.”

you can’t fight back the wide grin on your face when he leans down to nudge his nose against yours, both of your hearts undoubtedly beating in time   

“happy new year, secretary min.”

❄️christmas with cee 2020 masterlist 🎄

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

[cake-writes]

No Vacancy (2/5)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Both Bucky and Reader are gonna get kind of dark in this, so… Dark Fic (I guess?), Very Dubious Consent, Somnophilia (sex with a sleeping partner – and it’s gonna be more than once), Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Hair-Pulling, Choking, Spanking, Degradation, Visible Marks, Breathplay, Throatfucking, Restraints, Masturbation, Angst, Anxiety, Feels, Mutual Pining, VERY OBVIOUSLY 18+

Summary: You and Bucky have been on so many missions together, you’ve lost count. How is it that you’ve never shared a bed until now?

A/N: this chapter was supposed to be about half this long and contain the next chapter’s plot, but now the next chapter is going to involve a POV shift so tl;dr yeah idk what i’m even doing anymore 🤷 LOL enjoy!!! *nervous laughter* what the fuck

Part One / Master List

In the soft fleece of his sweatpants, he feels… sticky. Strange. Off, and Bucky realizes, then, that he must have had a wet dream.

Shit.

It’s his first realization upon waking. The second is that you’re already up; the sheets beside him are long cold, and he can hear the shower running, water splattering unevenly against tile as you wash away yesterday’s road trip. Too many hours cooped up in a stuffy beater, but the two of you have been on so many missions together now that it’s commonplace. Normal.

He’s more used to being with you than by himself anymore.

The two of you drove to the middle of nowhere for this mission, and by the time he pulled into town – a little after 1 in the morning – the only motel was already fully booked, save for a single room with a queen bed. Some wellness convention in town, apparently, and a whole thirty attendees by the looks of things, but you just took the room keys with a shrug and a smile.

“We’ll manage. Right?”

“Yeah,” came his answer, automatic, but it felt wrong to share a bed with you because it’s more than that for him. The way he always trails behind you like a lost puppy dog, like when you made your way back outside to grab your bags – it’s obvious.

He wants this.

You don’t.

And now, the very thought of you wet and naked in the shower makes him uncomfortably hard. He can picture it so easily because his mind’s already done the dirty work for him. What should have been a nightmare last night, a vivid memory of one of Hydra’s breeding experiments from decades past – well, it wasn’t so bad this time. It felt real. It felt good, and he can only assume that’s because you were in it.

A nameless face replaced by yours, gasping, wanting, begging for more, begging him to breed you, to fill you, to make you his – it’s a fantasy he’s kept under lock and key for far too long. 

It’s difficult enough having to share a bed with you, so why the hell did he have to dream about that now?

You make him feel things he shouldn’t. You always have.

The shower shuts off, then, and Bucky quickly pulls himself out of bed to hide the evidence of his crime. White-stained sweats are discarded in favour of a fresh pair, just in time for you to pull open the bathroom door, one towel tucked taut around your body and another for your hair.

You stop in your tracks when you see that he’s awake. It’s a longer pause than necessary, and he feels the heat bloom in his cheeks as you stare at him. The way you study his face makes him nervous, makes him feel like you know what he’s done: that he’s dreamt of you, that he’s made a mess because of you.

It’s embarrassing. It’s humiliating.

At least until you offer him a casual, “Morning, Bucky,” and make your way to your suitcase.

Maybe he’s thinking too much. Nothing’s changed.

“Morning,” he responds, but his throat is dry. He wants to ask how you slept, half to ascertain that you don’t know and half because he’s genuinely curious, but he doesn’t ask. He’s too nervous.

“Shower’s free,” you say, turning away from him to rifle through your things for a change of clothes.

And of course Bucky’s eyes lock onto the exposed skin of your shoulders and back because he just can’t help himself, not when he’s feeling like this, and he watches a droplet of water roll from the nape of your neck to beneath your towel – right next to a couple of freckles he swears he saw in his dream, the very dream where he fucked the breath out of you and filled you with cum until you couldn’t take anymore. But not for lack of trying.

Christ.

“Yeah,” Bucky rasps, tearing his eyes away just seconds before you turn back around, t-shirt and jeans in hand. “Okay. Thanks.”

He won’t look at you again. He can’t. 

He shouldn’t think about you like this. He shouldn’t want you like this.

So he escapes into the steamy room, because he’s just about ready to jump out of his own skin. The door shuts behind him with a soft click, and the sound comes as a small comfort; it’s a barrier, almost, one that’s quickly forgotten when he sees your toiletries on the benchtop and in the shower.

He’s surrounded by you.

He’s suffocating.

The shower leaves Bucky feeling a lot more refreshed.

Ropes of sticky white wash down the drain along with his worries, and he already feels better. Clearer. Even if it’s wrong to imagine you that way, it still takes the edge off – lets him concentrate more on the mission than you, which is the entire reason the two of you are here.

Problem is, he feels like god damned teenager. 

What the hell is wrong with him?

“What’s the plan for today?” he asks you, towelling dry his hair with one hand. He’s still shirtless – pulled on a pair of black jeans a minute ago, but he hasn’t yet grabbed a shirt out of his duffel because he’d rather try for a proper conversation with you. Try to make things feel normal again.

This is commonplace, he has to remind himself. Casual. 

You’ve shared a room before, a fact only further proven when you glance up at him from the notebook in your lap and barely bat an eyelash. You’re sitting on the bed with your legs crossed, going over the mission notes and putting together a list of potential leads just like you always do.

“Breakfast,” you answer. “I did a little light reading while you were in the shower.” That’s when you hold up a pamphlet with the motel’s branding on it for emphasis. “Free muffins, see? All you can eat.”

Nothing’s changed. You’re the same as ever.

Bucky snorts. “How bad do you think their coffee is?”

“Oh, it’s gonna be awful,” you say with a grin, tossing the pamphlet back down onto the bed. “Come on, hurry up. I’m starving.”

“Muffins aren’t gonna fill you up, you know,” he teases, reaching around you for the pamphlet. He wants to check if it mentions any specific brand of coffee or if he’ll be drinking dirt today.

Not that it matters, because that’s when you do react; it’s barely noticeable, but you flinch.

Not normal.

A shaky breath escapes your lips.

“After breakfast, we should stop by the pharmacy,” you try continue on with the day’s itinerary like nothing’s wrong, like you didn’t just jump because he got too close, but he can discern the slight tremble in your voice.

You’re scared. Even Bucky can see it.

“Why?”

It’s a question he doesn’t want you to answer. Not really.

When you look up at him again, there’s some emotion there – something unreadable. It’s like you want to say something, maybe, but you don’t. Instead you clear your throat and give him the obvious excuse: “I’m not feeling too great today. Gonna grab some cold meds.”

A lie.

And then you shift to squeeze your thighs together, before you hop up from the bed entirely – up and away from him.

“Alright,” Bucky acquiesces, but it’s only out of respect for you that he does.

You’ve never done that before.

You’ve never lied to his face like that before.

You’ve never been scared of him before. Not like that.

He should know; he’s gotten close to you a lot, probably too often if he’s honest with himself, but it’s not like anyone’s actually keeping track except for him. The two of you have played newlyweds and siblings and all sorts of stupid roles together on undercover gigs; he’s had his arm around you, had his body up against yours, even, and you’ve never, ever reacted that way.

Why now?

As Bucky pulls a shirt over his head, he catches you watching him in the mirror. There’s something dark about the look in your eyes that unsettles him, but it feels even worse when you look away.

Bucky opens the door to the guest services office for you, and when you walk in, he gently places his hand on your lower back like he’s done a number of times before. This time, however, it’s a test.

You don’t react. You don’t even blink.

Maybe he’s thinking too much. Again.

It’s been raining for a while, judging by the number of puddles in the ill-maintained parking lot and the bucket catching water in the foyer of the office. Bucky finds himself thinking that the two of you might have gotten lucky with your room; no leaks yet, but his mind is still stuck on other matters.

Maybe you really aren’t feeling well. Maybe that’s all it is.

The office smells even more damp and dusty this morning than it did last night. It makes his nose wrinkle.

“This place is a real mess, isn’t it?” you whisper under your breath, eyes alight with mischief as you peer up at him in the dim lighting. You’re so close that the sweet scent of your shampoo cuts through the mustiness like a balm.

His brows raise in amusement. “Think it’s worse than the Ozarks?”

It’s an inside joke the two of you share: the worst place you’ve been on a mission together.

You chew your lip as you consider the question; then, “Close.”

“Good morning,” comes a cheery voice from the reception desk, and Bucky looks over to find a new face there, a plump older woman smiling at him. She’s a far cry from the pimpled teenage boy who gave you the keys last night, the one who checked out your cleavage in the process.

Not that you noticed, because the look Bucky shot him was enough to make him stop.

“Morning, ma’am,” he greets pleasantly. “We’re here for breakfast.” An elbow nudges him in the ribs, prompting him to clarify in annoyance, “The muffins.”

She nods. “Of course! Follow me.”

As she leads the two of you to the breakfast room – back through a hallway behind the reception desk, because that’s not weird at all – Bucky mouths, “Really?” at you over his shoulder. 

You just give him an innocent little shrug in return, like you didn’t elbow him in the ribs. Then you gesture to the long hallway and mouth back, “What the hell?”

Now it’s his turn to shrug. The two of you have stayed in your fair share of dives, but this place is in a class of its own. It’s bizarre, and the breakfast room is even worse: tiny, with a shoddy plastic table set up on one side, opposite an empty wall covered in paintings that are probably older than he is. There’s also nowhere to sit, because the room’s too small for that.

Thankfully, the muffins do look appealing. They’re large and varied and stacked high on two serving platters, and he has to wonder how many of the guests actually take up the motel on their offer. A quick check of his watch indicates that it’s a little after eight; maybe the two of you are just the first to arrive.

“Enjoy,” says the woman – Bucky glimpses her nametag, then, which reads Judy – and after he offers her a nod in thanks, she heads back down the hallway to the front desk.

“Thank you,” you call out behind her, awkwardly, and he stifles a laugh.

This room – or should he say closet? – doesn’t smell so musty. Not like the rest of the place. It’s the one silver lining, he supposes, because nothing else about it is very appealing. Next to the muffins sit two diner-style coffee pots in their cradles, as well as a stack of styrofoam cups, some cream and sugar, and a bowl of fruit.

So much for a continental breakfast. There’s barely anything here.

After he selects a particularly red apple, Bucky pulls two cups from the stack and deadpans, “Happy now?”

You beam at him. “Delighted.”

“You’re an idiot,” he tells you, pointedly, which only makes you smile more. That’s when he makes sure to grab the caffeinated coffee pot, because he can already tell it won’t be worth the lack of caffeine otherwise – which is what he desperately needs right now in order to deal with you.

“Yeah,” you say through a mouthful of blueberry muffin, “but I’m your idiot.”

Bucky’s heart stutters inside of his chest, and he very nearly spills the coffee he’s pouring.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

But he doesn’t spill a drop, and soon he’s got two styrofoam cups of lukewarm coffee in hand as he makes his way over to where you’re leaning against the wall. Both have equal amounts of cream and sugar to dilute the taste, so he chooses one at random to offer you.

“You’re gonna choke if you keep stuffing your face like that. Here.”

It’s not an order, exactly, but you accept the cup from him anyway and take a sip. Bucky can tell the moment it hits your tastebuds because you immediately make a face.

“Worse than the Ozarks?” he suggests again, with a teasing lilt.

“Oh yeah,” you reply with a grimace. “At least the muffins aren’t bad.” To prove your point, you break off a piece with your thumb and forefinger and hold it out to him expectantly.

This is commonplace. It’s normal. It’s casual, but he pauses; there’s a look in your eyes he doesn’t recognize, something dark, hungry, and he feels the heat start to creep up his neck.

Why do you keep looking at him like that?

When he hesitantly opens his mouth, you feed the piece of muffin to him. Of course you do, but your fingertip lingers a little too long – and his tongue slowly licks the crumbs away, prompting a sharp intake of breath from you.

This isn’t normal.

It’s only when you chew your lip and pull away does the spell break. Bucky immediately averts his eyes – winds up staring down into his cup of coffee like he’s just gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t have, but the reprimand he’s expecting to hear doesn’t come.

A crinkle cuts through the silence, and then, “It’s good, right?”

Bucky glances up from his coffee to find that you’re not focused on him, now, but on the wrapper of a banana bread muffin. His face finally flushes hot, almost like it’s been waiting to make sure you’re not looking – and you definitely aren’t. Not now.

It’s embarrassing.  It’s humiliating.

“Yeah,” he answers, heart racing inside of his chest. “It’s good.”

And then he takes a sip of coffee, but the only thing he can taste is the sweetness of your skin.

“Have any other rooms opened up?”

Your question to Judy on the way back outside makes his heart sink.

Breakfast didn’t feel quite right after that, but Bucky thought things were fine. At least until you stopped to ask that, anyway. He checks his watch again to distract himself from his nerves; almost nine o’clock now.

“I’m afraid not, dear,” Judy informs you politely. “The convention booked us right up. Probably won’t have any other rooms available until Monday.”

Today is Friday.

Shit.

“That’s okay. Thanks anyway.”

While you offer her a sweet smile to go along with your platitudes, Bucky knows instantly that it’s not a real one because it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It’s like he’s on autopilot when he opens the door for you this time, because he’s too caught up in his head to even notice. 

Was it because of breakfast that you want to switch rooms, or maybe you do know what he was dreaming about this morning and you’re just too nice to say anything—

“Bucky?”

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks down at you to find that your brows are furrowed and you’re asking him a question, now.

“I said, are you okay with staying here one more night? Sorry, I know it’s not ideal. Guess it’s not too comfortable sharing the bed with me, huh?”

An awkward laugh follows your supposed joke, and you briskly rub your arms because it’s a little chilly this morning from the rain.

For a moment, he just stares. How can he do anything else? It takes him a second to process what you’ve asked, what you’ve said; and then he realizes you were looking for another room because you think he’s uncomfortable.

“What are you talking about?” he finally manages.

“Since you got up this morning, you’ve been kind of…” You pause to think of a good word for it, and then you finally say, “off, I guess?” Then you rub the back of your neck, looking about as awkward as he can only imagine you feel. “I don’t blame you. Things were a lot different in the 40s, right, and I pressured you into sleeping with me, didn’t I—”

“You pressured— What?” That’s right. He remembers, then, that it’s anxiety – that you’ve got the same issue he does. You overthink. “Now wait just a damn second, doll. When did I say I wasn’t comfortable?”

Your mouth opens for a few prolonged seconds, and then it shuts, like there’s something on the tip of your tongue that you want to say but you just can’t get it out. Again.

“I slept with you because I wanted to. You sure as hell didn’t have to pressure me into it.” The way he says the word makes it sound like the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, maybe because it is. “Okay?”

The implication of his choice of words and yours hangs heavy in the air as you peer up at him through your lashes – searching for the lie, but there isn’t one. All you’ll find is his honesty, and he assumes you do when you reply, “O...Okay.”  

And then, when your search gives way to something darker, baser, Bucky breaks away. He doesn’t know what to do when you look at him that way, but it makes him think of things he absolutely shouldn’t.

“Come on,” he calls over his shoulder, feeling his face flush and his heartbeat quicken. “We’ve gotta get moving.”

He shouldn’t think about you like this.

He’s suffocating.

Part Three

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 288: ZOOM AND ENHANCE

Previously on BnHA: Tomura, AFO, Deku, and Nana all met up inside of OFA and were all, “wow this is awkward.” AFO talked a whole bunch about vestiges before realizing that nobody cared (EXCEPT FOR ME. I CARED!!), and was then all “anyway so just to get everyone up to speed here, Tomura is Nana’s grandson.” OFA appeared and was all “what up bro I see you’re still a dick”, and then everyone stood around for a bit waging psychokinetic war on each other and blowing up on the ground and shit. This didn’t really accomplish anything, so AFO shifted gears and started trash talking Deku instead, because he’s a whiny little punkass loser who can’t admit when his brother has gotten the best of him yet again! OFA was all “anyways Deku rules and haters gonna hate, peace”, and then everyone wooshed back out of OFA and back into the real world, Deku with his quirk still intact. Meanwhile Gigantomachia and the LoV stampeded ever closer to the city, and Toga started monologuing in preparation for a seemingly inevitable battle with Ochako! And then the chapter basically just ended there lol.

Today on BnHA: Imagine you are Uraraka Ochako. And you’re out here doing what you do best, saving bitches and being a badass, when all of a sudden some old lady runs up to you and is all “PLEASE HELP ME, MY HUSBAND IS ASLEEP OR SOME SHIT, YOU KNOW US OLD PEOPLE, WE’RE SO FUCKING FEEBLE AND HAPLESS.” And so you’re all “OF COURSE” because you’re a good fucking person, and then she speeds off like she’s got fucking wheels and it’s like damn, grandma, were you in varsity track or what, and then OUT OF NOWHERE she just spontaneously turns into HIMIKO FUCKING TOGA. And she’s all naked and shit, and it’s like damn, Toga, where are your clothes, and she just giggles and ducks into a nearby building. And so you follow her for god knows what reason, and she fucking pounces on you and starts interrogating you in like the most seductive way possible, and you’re all wtf is this. Like, can you even imagine. Anyway so Ochako is having quite a day.

okay lol so I’ve gotta kind of rush through this since I’ve got other stuff I need to wrap up today as well, so! fingers crossed that we get a nice, simple chapter with no controversies or elaborate revelations or anything like that! just give me lots of stuff to mindlessly keysmash about, Horikoshi. I’m counting on you bro

lol what

an actual fucking plane?? is that allowed?? how bizarrely normal. are we sure this plane does not shoot lasers or something or is powered by someone with like a fusion reactor quirk idk

and who tf is Takeo-san. some random guy Horikoshi is suddenly introducing after 300 chapters to come save everyone at the last minute? pretty sus. Horikoshi is this your self insert

GASP

NO WAY THIS IS ALL MIGHT, RIGHT?? holy shit I swear to god if it’s All Might this lady needs to TURN THE FUCK AROUND RIGHT NOW. stop at McDonalds, order a black coffee for herself and only herself, and drive the rest of the way back home without so much as a bathroom break. there are certain prophecies which we don’t need to be tempting right now, okay people?? holy shit

(ETA: OR, here’s a thought, WHAT IF IT’S BEST JEANIST. hope springs eternal lmao. anyways though surely it’s not actually All Might. he can’t die yet, he’s got like 5 million secret things he needs to explain to Deku, and also Kacchan is unconscious and he can’t just SLEEP RIGHT THROUGH ALL MIGHT’S DEATH like come on.)

oh look more heroes all lining up to be slaughtered by Machia

real talk, at this point their priority should just be evacuating any citizens in Machia’s path, and then getting the fuck out of his way. none of them stand a chance in hell at stopping him and they know it. the body count is already high enough as it is. regroup and live to fight another day, people

anyway, so Machia is apparently plowing through cities at 100km per hour. that... actually might not be fast enough. Gunga and Jakku were 80km apart, so at that rate it would take him nearly an hour to reach Tomura. that fight’s gonna be long done by the time they get there. huh

okay these guys are saying he’s going to reach them in about 8 minutes. ?? so are you telling me Tomura and Deku and the rest have been fighting for like 40 minutes already?? lmao Gran probably bled to death half an hour ago at this rate. Horikoshi please explain yourself. some of us spent our entire childhoods doodling comics instead of paying attention in math and science AND IT SHOWS

anyway so this is all very bad and this guy is really rubbing it in just how bad it is

I mean... yeah. obviously the villains are still to blame at the core of it all, but yeah. feels like you all could have planned a hell of a lot better for this. you knew there was the risk of Tomura waking up, and you knew there was also the risk of Gigantomachia waking up as well. and you pretty much had no contingency plan at all huh. society is really gonna be in shambles after this

lmao look at this shit. Machia is so big at this point that it looks like they’re having a picnic in the middle of some desert somewhere. at what point does it cease being a guy’s back and start being its own zip code

even has its own wifi. amazing

oh shit Compress apparently spotted someone and he’s asking Skeptic to “zoom and enhance” like it’s CS fucking I. that’s not how it works Compress you fucking boomer

anyway so OF COURSE,

was there a reason you needed to zoom in on them, other than to trigger Toga?? some people just want to watch the world burn

so Toga is now GEARIN’ UP!!

that honestly is so fucking handy. over at U.A. they have to carry their gear in briefcases like scrubs. does Compress actually have the best quirk in the world?? it flies under the radar so well that I always forget about it, but like WHAT CAN’T IT DO though, y’know??

WELL WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GONNA HAPPEN MY DUDE

“oh hey is that the U.A. kids? Skeptic could you please zoom in on them for absolutely no reason? OH MY GOD TOGA IS RUNNING OFF TO FIGHT THEM, OH MY GOD WHO COULD HAVE FORESEEN, OH MY GOD”

now he’s all “DABI PLEASE DO SOMETHING” but Dabi is all “DABI DON’T CARE”

Dabi don’t care about NOTHING OR NO ONE!! Dabi don’t got time for this

lmao I literally forgot that Spinner was even there, shit

so are you gonna go with her then or not? because I got news for you dude, it doesn’t matter how heartwarming your speech is, nothing can stop this girl now that she’s gone full distracted boyfriend meme

AW BUT IT REALLY IS HEARTWARMING THOUGH

Spinner is the glue keeping this dysfunctional Addams family together honestly. too bad he couldn’t stop Compress from OPENING HIS BIG DUMB MOUTH ah well

lmao but he’s letting her go anyway though

Spinner for new LoV President. all in favor??

ANYWAYS LOL THIS IS BAD

“ACCELERATE EVACUATIONS” LOL WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO OCHAKO HE’S MOVING AT 100KM AN HOUR AND HE’S LIKE FUCKING GODZILLA SIZED FKJLK

“PLEASE RUN OUTSIDE OF THE VILLAIN’S PERIPHERY” well thank fucking god the people have you guys to guide them what would they even do without you lklkhlkds

NO HORIKOSHI DON’T YOU DARE

IF YOU HURT MY GIRL FROPPY I SWEAR TO GOD!! LEAVE HER ALONE YOU BRIGAND

OH THANK GOD

“sorry for SAVING YOUR LIFE” smh. anyway so how fucking badass is Ochako though?? can we just talk about this. THE GIRL POWER ARC STRIKES AGAIN hot damn

(ETA: and btw, seeing as Iida is nowhere to be found, I’d say odds are pretty good that they did in fact send him to go warn the Endeavorsquad of Gigantomachia’s imminent arrival. godspeed Iida! they need all the help they can get right now honestly.)

EXCUSE ME BUT ARE YOU TOGA

IS THIS TOGA. THIS IS DEFINITELY TOGA OMG

“I IMMEDIATELY TRUST YOU AND I WILL FOLLOW YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH” noooo Ochako nooooo

damn Toga you really drained some poor old lady’s blood just so you could pull this kind of sneaky shit. I forgot how much I loved you

ohhhh lol so it’s her “husband” that is Takeo-san lol

THE BETTER TO LURE YOU INTO A TRAP MY DEAR

lmao Ochako you rube

now you’ve done it Toga. there is nothing Ochako loves more than a good old fashioned Old People Romance. DID YOU KNOW SHE HAS SEEN THE NOTEBOOK LIKE FIFTY TIMES. AND NO MATTER WHAT, IT ALWAYS GETS HER AT THE END. meanwhile I just want to watch a movie where James Marsden actually gets the girl for once but we all know that will never happen

OH MY

ngl this page would be like a thousand times better if Ochako was still blushing omg. did I ship this before?? I honestly can’t remember but I sure as fuck ship it now goddammit

(ETA: pretty sure I shipped it back during the Forest arc too but I don’t have time to check right now lol. but Toga is just so horny on main for everyone, all the time, and so like, it’s hard not to ship it.)

so now Toga is running off all flirtatiously and Ochako is barreling after her lol

plot twist, Takeo-san is actually in there. and he has NO IDEA what’s going on. WHAT HAPPENED TO MY WIFE. WHY IS THERE A GIANT MOLE MAN BURROWING THROUGH THE CITY

Ochako why on earth would you follow Toga into this dark creepy house where she could spring at you from any angle out of nowhere. just go back outside and float up over it until you have a high enough vantage point to see all the exits and just wait for her to come out

Toga says she wanted to talk to Tsuyu-chan as well, but let’s be real, you and her don’t have the same kind of electrically charged kismesis energy that you’ve got going on with Ochako though

LMAO DEKU NOWHERE IS SAFE

getting dragged like a fucking wedding train and he’s not even there to defend himself, shit

blah blah blah just ask her your question already Toga

MY WORD

would someone please inform Toga that this manga is only rated PG-13

so now Ochako is all “seriously Toga wtf”

you see that’s what I wanted to know too, lol. I really like that the characters actually think about these things and ask these kind of questions. that’s exactly the contrast between the heroes and the villains right there. the villains care about each other, they’ll give each other heartwarming speeches to please come back alive, and yet they’re utterly indifferent to the thousands of people being killed as they demolish their way through city after city. meanwhile by contrast Ochako’s first thought upon being erotically waylaid by her sexy knife-wielding archnemesis is “but what about that poor old lady is she all right.” just completely opposite energies, almost to a hilarious degree. like maybe Ochako actually should worry about herself just a little bit more lol but heroes gonna hero

and so now what, Toga!! you’re gonna pout about it?? like she’s betrayed you somehow?

anyway so that’s the end of the chapter! and I’ll just come right out and say that I’m hoping that this fight ends up being something where Toga maybe starts to see things just a little bit more from Ochako’s point of view, and not the other way around, because otherwise I’ll be a little frustrated, ngl. the manga has done an excellent job of making the villains likeable and relatable and getting us to sympathize with them up till this point, but at some point it’s got to start refuting some of these arguments and making it clear that the villains do not actually have any kind of moral high ground here

and also! I really like Toga and would like her to have some kind of redemption arc! but as of now that’s looking to be really difficult if not impossible to pull off, because Toga hasn’t exactly shown a whole lot of remorse for anything she’s done so far, you know? because she doesn’t see it as bad in any way; to her it’s just her way of expressing love, and being true to who she is. but being true to yourself really should NOT involve, you know, MURDER, and so yeah. it’s a problem lmao

but who knows! maybe this battle with Ochako will be the start of something which eventually leads to some sort of change within her! I have absolutely no idea how that could play out tbh, but even so I can hope! either that or she will double down on the whole “villains are victims and heroes are apathetic cruel hypocrites” ideology and decide she wants to kill Ochako and Izuku for breaking her heart, in which case I will be very sad, but I guess if that’s the way Horikoshi’s gonna play it it is what it is!

and lastly, so is this going to be like the final battle between them or something?? surely not, right? like this is just round 2 of 3. well at any rate, it’s sure going to be interesting

[myownworstenemyyy]

can I request “I always made you think your feelings for me were totally one-sided…that wasn’t true.” with javi :)

edit: this is Part 1 of the Crystal Clear series

feeling angsty, are we, nonny? 😏 i was so excited to write this one! I hope you like it and mayhaps a part 2 is in the works 😉💕💜💜

prompt from this list: “I always made you think your feelings for me were totally one-sided…that wasn’t true.”

word count: 1.7k (gif by @bestintheparsec)

warnings: swearing (obvi) ; cheating on someone ? kinda briefly ? (idk man)

masterlist | also, this fic was heavily inspired by the song Crystal Clear from the beautiful Hayley Williams 🥰

AO3 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

“I wanna make it crystal clear that I won't give in to the fear.”

The Texas heat is always unforgiving this time of year. But your garden was starting to look horrendous, so you had decided to just suck it up and get some yard work done. Now, as you kneel in the dirt, your gloved hands deep in the soil and back aching from bending over for so long, you think maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. 

The sound of rocks shifting under heavy footsteps has you looking over your shoulder to see a figure approaching. You raise your hand to shield your eyes from the sun shining so brightly behind the stranger, their silhouette being the only thing you can make out. “Can I help you?” you say in a polite, yet cautious voice. 

Your heart nearly stops when an all-too-familiar baritone replies, “Hola, bonita,” as he stops a few feet in front of you - well, technically behind you. Slowly rising to your feet, your eyes fully adjust to the sunlight as you take in the sight of the first man you ever fell in love with. Javier.

He mostly looks the same, save for the slight tan of his skin, along with a few worry lines and wrinkles that have formed over the years since he-

Since he left you.

“Javier,” you state, your voice betraying you when it cracks on the last syllable. What is he doing here? When did he - come back?  

The silence drags on as the two of you study each other, though his expression is much softer than your confused one. “What are you doing here?” you ask at the same time he says, “You look good.” He chuckles, the sound making your stomach flip as your cheeks flush. 

That laugh - god, it’s been so long since you’ve heard it, the last time being the night before he left for Columbia to aid in the capture of Pablo Escobar. Though at the time, you didn’t actually know it would be the last time you’d see him for years to come. You didn’t learn that bit of information until the next morning when you woke up to find a letter in your mailbox - a short apology for his sudden departure. 

But you’d suspected it was more like “fleeing,” especially after you’d told him how you truly felt about him just the night before. Though you suppose you should’ve known better - Javier Peña never was a man who could be committed to one woman for longer than a few nights. Even if that woman was you - his best friend since elementary school. 

Lost in reminiscent thoughts of the two of you together, you don’t notice Javier taking a couple steps closer to where you’re standing. “I just got back a couple days ago and...I needed to see you,” he looks away for a moment, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Well, at least he has the decency to look ashamed.

“OK, you’ve seen me. Now you can go,” you turn around and head towards the front door to your house, leaving your garden a half-done mess. You’ve just reached the first step of the porch when he reaches for your wrist, “Wait - I...I’m sorry, for leaving.”

Releasing a weary sigh, you turn and face him again, his eyes filled with sincerity and something akin to desperation. Your heart instinctively aches to comfort him, but you know that’s not your place - not anymore. “Why?” you ask quietly and the regret lining his features tells you he knows you’re not just referring to why he’s sorry, but why he actually left in the first place without so much as a good-bye. Because you both know you didn’t deserve to find out he was leaving from some piece of paper left on your fucking doorstep.

“I didn’t know how to tell you - that I was assigned to the unit in Columbia. And I couldn’t face you - not after everything you’d said...about-”

“I remember,” you cut him off, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. You bite your bottom lip as it threatens to quiver, the emotions you’ve been suppressing for so long rising to the surface. “You broke my fucking heart, Javi,” your voice breaks, barely above a whisper, as a tear glides down your cheek.

“I know,” he admits in a voice just as softly as he closes his eyes for a moment, releasing a shaky breath, “God, I know, bonita. I - I always made you think your feelings for me were totally one-sided…” he takes a deep breath, sliding his hand down your wrist and holding your right hand in both of his, “but...that wasn’t true,” he confesses, his words landing like a punch to the gut.

Your breath hitches when you finally process what he’s said, the meaning behind his words gripping your heart like a vise. He...feels the same way? 

His dark eyes search yours, pleading for you to understand - for you to forgive him. But you’ve fallen speechless as you try to think of a response, barely able to voice a weak, “W-what?” 

As you remain in a state of shock, Javi reaches for your other hand, coming to stand in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Bonita, I-” he starts but then his brow furrows as he looks down at your left hand, his fingers feeling for something under your gardening glove. 

The look of realization on his face is what finally snaps you out of your trance-like state. You swallow hard as you remove the glove from your left hand, bringing it up closer to eye level to show him-

“I’m engaged,” you croak out, your words laced with regret, and you quickly push away every thought rushing to the forefront of your mind. You refuse to acknowledge any bit of reasoning as to why your heart is breaking from sharing the news of your engagement with the man who basically just confessed his love for you.

“Oh,” he swallows hard, his gaze fixated on the simple diamond that suddenly feels like it’s cutting off circulation to your finger. His grip loosens as he releases your hands, wiping his own hand down his face as he turns away, muttering, “Of course you are - soy más pendejo,” he trails off, his back facing you.

You're frozen at the bottom of the porch, clutching your gardening glove to the point of making your knuckles ache. His hands rest on his hips, his head dropping for a moment as he takes one, two, three breaths before turning to face you once more. 

Your heart begins to race as he watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Though, the sadness in his eyes is impossible to miss. 

Clenching his jaw, he nods his head once like he’s come to some kind of decision. “Felicidades, bonita. I hope your prometido knows how lucky he is,” he offers a tight-lipped smile before turning on his heel and walking away. It takes a minute for your legs to finally spring into action as you stumble after him, “Javi, wait!” you drop the glove on the ground, no longer caring about the mess in your front yard.

He skids to a stop but remains facing forward, his shoulders tense. Walking around his brooding figure, you face him head-on, “It’s been years since I’ve even heard from you, Javi - you can’t just-” you shake your head incredulously, all the hurt and confusion from his abandonment manifesting itself as anger, “you don’t get to do this to me. You don’t just get to leave, come back and say you have feelings for me - and then fucking leave again!” 

Your chest rises and falls with the same fierce intensity coating your words, but you refuse to back down, “Why did you even come here if you were just gonna leave the minute I rejected you? I mean, what the hell was I supposed to do after you left? Sit around and sulk because my best friend - the man I love - decided to take a job in Columbia, and didn’t even say good-bye?!” 

Your hands fly to your hair in frustration as you start to pace up and down the sidewalk, angry tears welling in your eyes. No, I’m not crying over him again - I did enough of that when he left. But the memory of you sitting on the hardwood floor in your living room, clutching his letter to your chest as you sobbed for hours, has fresh tears spilling onto your cheeks.

“‘Love’, not… ‘loved’?” he asks carefully as he watches you closely, holding his breath while you wipe your face clean with the front of your shirt. You look at him with a furrowed brow, “What?” The adrenaline from your outburst is quickly fading, exhaustion taking its place.

After a beat, you meet his eyes, which are swimming with emotion as he elaborates, “You said ‘the man I love’... not ‘the man I loved.” His face gives nothing away, but you're taken aback when you see an echo of something in his eyes - hope.

You slowly shake your head, “Javi-” but he cuts you off with a desperate plea.

“Please, just-” he takes a step toward you, his hands reaching out to lightly grip your arms, “tell me - tell me you feel nothing for me anymore and I'll leave you alone...for good.” And from the pained look plaguing his features, you know he’ll keep that promise - he'll walk out of your life, taking all the pain and sorrow he’s caused you along with him.

You grip his forearm with a shaky hand, holding onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring you to this moment. Your lip trembles and his brow furrows deeper in concern as your breathing picks up, your entire being overwhelmed by the emotions boiling over within you.

“I...can't,” you breathe out, looking into his dark eyes as you bring your hands to his face, your fingers hesitantly stroking his cheek. His chest is rising and falling to the same tempo as yours, his lips slightly parted as you trace your fingers over his bottom lip, mesmerized by the curve and slight pout that permanently lives there.

“Bonita-” but it's your turn to interrupt him, only this time it's not with words. You cradle his face in your hands and push up on the tips of your toes until your lips meet his - and the rest of the world fades away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

bonita - pretty / beautiful

soy más pendejo  - I'm the biggest dumbass 😂

Felicidades - Congratulations

prometido - fiance

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag list: (let me know if you wanna be added/removed)

@spacegayofficial @themandjalorian @hiscyarika @mandoispunk @madadlorian @pedrolorians @forever-rogue @longitud-de-onda @certifiedskywalker @dindjarindiaries @no-droids-allowed @aerynwrites @buckyodinson @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gooddaykate @fanfiction-trashpile @arrowswithwifi @letaliabane @thinemineours @ham4arrow @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @thisainttheway @bluemoon-glen @katialvi  @bestintheparsec @24kgolden @livasaurasrex @c-ly-g @triggerhappyflyboyy @fangirl-and-stuff @mrsparknuts @and-i-swear-we-are-infinte @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @kimljn @kristalhi @fatbottomedcurls @auty-ren @mabelleen @rzrcrst @pascalisthepunkest @blushingwueen @lovingtheway @beskars @mandoandyodito @roxypeanut @rosamedina92 @sinnamon-bun @ct-arc-5555 @keeper0fthestars @poe-pascal @spacemacandcheese @destucky45 @marvelwars @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @frietiemeloen @waywardodysseys @thick-dick-daddy-mando @haildoodles-writing @walkerchick007 @miraelles

[dovechim]

a remedy for mondays 01 (m)

➾ 11.2k

➾ summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

➾ warnings: impregnation kink (all that jazz, u guys should know by now), brief mention of pregnancy termination, future smut 

➾ a/n: this is written purely for fun & i hope you can understand my humour!!! please don’t go having babies just for some time off work. by the time i post this, it will be monday where i live. i hope this brings you all some joy :-) 

ps: thank you to @jimlingss, who always hears my crazy ideas out and encourages me to go for them. heck, sometimes she even brings it out of me. idk where i would be without you :”D

You hate this.

The saying goes: work to live, not live to work. But at this rate, you’d rather just not exist at all if you have to continue work at this god.darn.fucking.job.

All around you, people are huddled into their seats, heads bowed below the partition that separates the desks. Frankly, you think this whole open-plan office thing is just bullshit. Who the fuck wants to make eye contact with Jeon Jeongguk when he’s picking his nose in the middle of editing a spreadsheet?

Not you, that’s who.

You sink even lower down in your seat as you continue to stare your screen with a pounding headache. The numerous open windows on your desktop are just mocking you at this point. The morning seems to be crawling by. Usually, you ration out your morning coffee and breakfast to keep you going; so your morning goes a little something like this: arrive 8.30am, check emails, get water from the pantry and fuck about while your bosses aren’t here yet till 9.15am. Reply to some emails till about 9.45am, then sit in a daze till it’s 10am and time for you to drink your morning espresso and nibble at the small bun you bought from the bakery nearby.

This usually gets you to about 11am, only an hour more to go till lunch.

A job in the public service is perceived to be prestigious by most; so you suppose you should be thankful for your job dealing with family policy. But what outsiders don’t realise is that working in a governmental organisation as the utmost bottom rung absolutely sucks. There are so many standard operation procedures for nearly every single fucking thing, even emails to senior management needs to be vetted by someone in a higher position than you. As a result, things get done very slowly and even if they do get through to senior management, it might just get rejected because they decide that it’s not good enough. Then the work comes all the way back to you, and the whole dreary process starts again.

Not to mention your asshole boss. Bae Joohyun. Senior Director. She has a notorious reputation throughout the entire department for being a hell witch from Satan’s posse. In her meetings she demands utter silence from everyone other than the presenter; sneezes and coughs or pen clicks and typing are strictly forbidden.

Technically, she isn’t your direct superior, and you don’t work super closely with her, but she has this mandate that all leave requests for the entire department have to be approved by her. You’ve submitted requests 5 times in the past year, none of which have gone through. As a result you haven’t taken a day off in a good three years since you started working here. You still remember that one time she rejected your medical leave and called you to her desk. You’d been nursing a terrible flu, your complexion washed out and almost falling off your feet. Looking in the mirror that morning had been a complete shock. You thought a zombie was staring back at you.

Bae Joohyun had narrowed her eyes at you. “What’s wrong with you that you need to take emergency medical leave, _____?”

“I-it’s this cold, ma’am,” your voice was nasal and stuck in your throat.

Bae Joohyun had rolled her eyes and motioned for you to speak up. “I can’t hear you, stop mumbling for heaven’s sake!”

“I have a cold, ma’am! Has been so for the past three days,” you sniffled and pressed a tissue to your nose.

“A cold?” Bae Joohyun raised an eyebrow sceptically. “You seem fine to me. You look the same as you usually do. Get back to work.”

Sometimes you feel like this company, in all its pro-family views, treats married employees with children better.

The resentment grows inside you as you tap on your keyboard harder and harder, earning you a timid glance from Jeon Jeongguk opposite you. But you ignore him, continuing to type out a reply to someone who somehow failed to read your previous email and continued to ask the exact same questions.

“______?”

You absolutely hate it when someone approaches you from the back in your blind spot and startles you like this. Forcing a smile on your face, you sit up straighter in your chair and turn around. It’s Taehyung from the Baby Bonus Team, and he’s holding a folder with a smile on his face.

“Morning, ______!” He chirps with a sunny expression, and you can barely muster enough energy to greet him back, let alone match his level of enthusiasm on a Monday morning. “Could I just trouble you to update this for me? It’s just our operations manual for the Baby Bonus Team that hasn’t been touched in like… ages. I just need the HR section updated. Is that ok?”

Before you can even reply, Taehyung places a folder on your desk and his email appears on your screen, and he’s off. It’s not a secret that Taehyung loves his job to pieces. He loves children, loves babies, and loves it that he’s doing his part to contribute to the nation’s falling birth rate.

Well, not likethat,since you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend.

But everyone else here seems to love children. Over lunch with your team, all they do is exchange pictures of their children, their friends’ children, or some random baby from Facebook and coo over how chubby and cute they are. You stopped going to lunch with them after Mingyu from Pre-Schools team showed everyone a picture of his niece in a soiled diaper.

Most of your older coworkers who are married with their own families have pictures of their children on their desks. You’re forced to stare at these pictures with the resentment bubbling up inside you as you listen to their latest rant about how your proposal is too skimpy, lacks real research, that email of yours is poorly worded, needs to be recalled etc; so can anyone really blame you when you’re unable to dredge up even the slightest bit of adoration for those grubby faced gremlins?

Clicking open Taehyung’s email and finding the document he attached, you scroll down to the section he mentioned. You realise that he was being modest when he said that it needed an update. The whole fucking section comprises of just a single sentence, and you’ll probably have to write it from scratch.

Sighing through your nose, you click open an internet browser and do a quick google search for the general HR benefits for expecting women and their partners. You also open up the intranet to take a look at your own company’s mandates, which seem to be quite a whole lot more substantial than the general ones (which is only natural since your organisation is so pro-family in its viewpoints).  16 weeks of paid maternity leave, for a start.

Good god. 16 whole weeks? That’s practically 4 months. That’s almost half a year!!!

Obviously you know that having a baby wrecks the mother’s body, and is a major life change; that’s why they need that much leave time. But right now the concept of not having to go to work for that amount of time is simply blowing your mind. Especially since it feels as if you’ve been working non-stop for as long as you can remember.

On top of the 16 weeks is increased medical leave that can be taken any time before the baby is born. Your company is incredibly sympathetic towards pregnant women, which is only natural considering the line of work that you do in family planning. In fact, you know of a few colleagues from the Baby Bonus Team who took almost a whole month of medical leave, spread out, before they had their babies.

Not to mention the actual baby bonus itself.

Curious, you click back to Taehyung’s document and scroll up to the section on Baby Bonus. You scan through and gather that it comprises of a cash gift of $8,000 to $10,000, on top of several other schemes such as a savings account with the amount matched by the government. The total amount of cash receivable just for having one child is listed at the bottom of the page.

You sit back in your chair with a sharp breath. You never realised it was this lucrative to have a baby. Imagine receiving free money from the government, and having all that paid time off. All you need to do is just pop out one (1) baby, and that’s it. You can suck the government dry if you devote the rest of your life to being a baby making machine. See what Bae Joohyun has to say when you slam your maternity leave application on her desk.

The thought makes you smirk triumphantly.

But a moment later, the triumph fades as you remember your very, very single self. Without a boyfriend to knock you up, there’s no way this scheme would work.

Sighing, you shake your head to get rid of all the useless fantasies as you get back to work.

*

“Hey, _____. Meet our new joiner,” Jeongguk’s voice stirs you from the zoned out state you’re in, frantically typing away.

It’s well after lunch now; somehow the time had flown past while you were working on Taehyung’s document.

You look up to meet Jeongguk’s eyes, and then your gaze shifts to the slightly shorter man beside him. He is wearing a large pair of black glasses that cover nearly half his face; his blonde hair is parted down the middle and neatly slicked back. This man can’t even meet your eyes; he gives you a nervous little smile but his gaze is off, fixed somewhere on your shoulder. His white dress shirt is tucked in neatly to his black dress pants, but he is constantly fidgeting.

“Park Jimin. Welcome to the team, buddy,” Jeongguk slaps Jimin on the shoulder with a grin. “You’re sitting beside me.”

“Welcome, nice to meet you,” you smile and nod at him, but otherwise remain seated. No one can or will distract you from this document. You need to finish this by today, or else you’ll have to bring it home to work on it.

Park Jimin nods shyly as Jeongguk shows him to his seat. With this current arrangement, it means that the three of you are all facing each other in this cluster of desks. Sighing internally, you watch Jimin take his seat and arrange his things, see him glance shyly at you from behind his enormous glasses before his eyes dart away and he hides behind his desktop.

What a weird guy. He hasn’t said a single thing. Whatever. You turn back and resume typing, but then your phone chimes with an email notification.

CONGRATULATIONS!!! YOU HAVE WON MEET AND GREET PASSES TO MEET agust d TOMORROW!!!

Your heart skips a beat and you abandon typing just to open the email. You bid for these meet and greet passes months ago when you bought tickets to see your favourite rapper in concert. No news had resulted in you concluding that you hadn’t won after all, and you were contented with the chance just to see agust d in real life.

But now…

You scroll down to look at the details of the meet and greet.

24 September 2019, from 4pm (please see your specific timeslot on your attached passes)

Each meet and greet session comprises of: an up close, INTIMATE, one on one opportunity to chat and take photos with agust d, lasting for 15 minutes

Your heart sinks as you check the time on your pass. You end work only at 6pm, and when you’d bought the tickets you thought it’d be fine for you to go straight after work since the concert only starts at 7pm. There’s no way you’ll be able to take half day leave to attend the meet and greet. There’s no way Bae Joohyun would let you.

Sitting back in your seat in despair, feeling the angry tears well up in your eyes and the frustration cloud your chest, you don’t notice a pair of meek eyes behind black glasses peek out behind the desktop.

All that’s going through your head is: there has to be a way, there has to be a way.

There’s no way you’re letting these passes go to waste just like that. There’s no way you’re not meeting agust d just because Bae Joohyun has a stick up her ass.

*

Tuesday morning finds you at Bae Joohyun’s desk with a leave application filled out. You carefully set it on her desk, knowing full well that she comes in at 9.30am on the dot every day.

Rumour has it that she colour codes her outfits based on her mood that day. As you slink back to your desk, you catch a glance of her clad fully in black, striding powerfully into the office in her black pumps.

Your heart sinks as Jeongguk sings out a cheerful good morning to you and Park Jimin, whom you hadn’t even noticed was already at his desk.

“Morning, Jeongguk,” you mutter under your breath. “Morning to you too, Jimin.”

The newcomer does nothing more than nod at you as he ducks back behind his computer. But today you don’t have the bandwidth to wonder about him as you click over to Taehyung’s email about the document from yesterday.

“Hey, aren’t you going to see agust d tonight?” Jeongguk sits up straighter.

“Yeah, why?” Your reply comes clipped, already in a bad mood just from anticipating your rejected leave application.

“I heard the results of the balloting for the meet and greet passes came out yesterday,” Jeongguk’s bright eyes are on your face. “Do you know agust d, Jimin?”

The blonde haired man shrugs as part of his face appears from behind his computer.

“Anyway, I think only like five people got the passes, and as of yesterday night, there are already bidders on the black market willing to pay almost a thousand just for one pass,” Jeongguk continues on.

“Huh, really? Who’d be that crazy to pay that much money?” You muse, looking at your phone.

“Right?” Jeongguk sighs dramatically. You know he’d be extra salty if you told him you won passes to the meet and greet. You’d already made the mistake of letting slip that you managed to get a VIP ticket, and Jeongguk had sulked for an entire week after that. “I mean, what are the chances anyway? If you think about it, those people who won the passes must be die-hard fans, since you can only win one if you managed to get a VIP ticket. Which die-hard fan would sell their hard won passes like that?”

The conversation tapers off as you reply to some emails, but you can’t help but glance back at your phone. A thousand dollars just for a meet and greet pass. That’s just crazy. The amount of money some people are willing to spend… it almost makes you wonder if you could… sell it since you can’t make it anyway…

No. No. You can’t sell agust d’s love just for a thousand dollars. You wouldn’t even sell it for a million dollars. Shame on you.

Hushed whispers suddenly erupt around you, and Jeongguk hisses like a startled cat.

“Shit, SD’s coming! Fuck, I was in the middle of a game,” Jeongguk scrambles to turn off his phone, muttering under his breath that his teammates are going to kick him off the team next time.

You sit straighter in your seat and turn your head towards the aisle. Sure enough, Bae Joohyun is fast approaching like a hurricane bent on destruction. Her face is as black as her outfit.

“Jimin, since you’re new, just copy what I do. Look at your computer and don’t speak unless spoken to,” Jeongguk’s eyes are wide with fear, but he is frantically typing away on his keyboard, turning to glance at the timid man beside him. “Got it? Don’t show any fear, she can scent it like a shark with blood in the water. No matter what you do, don’t make eye contact with her if she isn’t talking to you.”

When Jimin doesn’t respond, Jeongguk glances hurriedly to the younger man. “Did you hear me?!”

“Y-yes.” It’s the first word you’ve heard this man utter, and it is somewhat strangled and you barely catch it over the rising panic that unfolds around you.

“Who d’you think she’s here for?” Jeongguk whispers to you.

“No idea,” you choke out with a closed throat, even though you have a very good idea who she’s here for.

As Bae Joohyun nears your cluster of desks, she slows down. Her eagle eyes scan the floor where all the employees are huddled at their seats, typing away with hunched shoulders. You can feel her gaze land on you, and you close your eyes briefly to say a prayer for mercy.

“______.”

Your name is uttered into the silence, and Jeongguk’s eyes shift just a fraction to glance at you. They are wide with fear. Beside him, Park Jimin’s eyes dart to yours from behind his thick black glasses. But none of them move.

“Y-yes?” You turn in your chair to face Bae Joohyun.

“You applied for emergency half day leave this pm, am I correct?” The witch herself holds up your leave application form. “Seeing as it’s this last minute, it must be urgent. What’s wrong with you this time?”  

It’s dead silent. Everyone is pretending to work at their desks, but you know all too well that what they’re really doing is eavesdropping on this conversation. Well, eavesdropping is too generous a term, considering that this conversation is made fully public.

“I… I’m…” You stutter and stumble over your words, struggling to think of a plausible excuse. Some part of you had hoped for a miracle, prayed to the gods eight times last night that Bae Joohyun would be in a merciful mood this morning and grant you the leave without asking.

You glance at Jeongguk, and by now he’s worked everything out silently in his head. His expression says everything. But he doesn’t dare to even look you in the eye.

Instead of him, you realise that another pair of eyes are watching you instead. Park Jimin’s head is tilted to the side, his eyes are observing your mini panic attack without darting away for once.

“Well? What’s wrong with you, I asked,” Bae Joohyun demands.

You can practically hear the clock ticking off the seconds till her patience runs out. Between that and Park Jimin’s persistent stare, your mind just goes blank, and you utter the first words that come to mind.

“I… I’m having morning sickness!”

“What?” Bae Joohyun’s tone is, for the first time, one of shock. “What did you just say?”

Despite Bae Joohyun’s presence, Taehyung from Baby Bonus has turned around in his seat. “Morning sickness? You don’t mean to say you’re…”

Your eyes dart around wildly all over the place in response to what you think Taehyung is implying. God dammit, if not for his fucking comment, you could have diverted it down a less conspicuous path.

“Pregnant?” Namjoon from HR pipes up. “______, are you pregnant? When were you planning on notifying HR?”

Oh god. Things are moving too fast. Slowly, people are turning around in their chairs and inviting themselves into what should be a private conversation between you and Bae Joohyun. Curious looks are directed your way, and you are tongue tied.

“______, I didn’t know you were married! You’ve been keeping it from us this whole time?” Someone from Pre-Schools, you think his name is Seokjin, exclaims in a chiding tone.

“No!” Your voice bursts out from somewhere. It sounds far away to your ears. “No, I’m not married!! I just had a… a… a one night stand.”

Fuck. You’re digging yourself into a deeper hole.

“A one-night stand?” Bae Joohyun narrows her eyes. Somehow you can see that she doesn’t really buy it. She is scanning your face intently, and if there’s even a shred of uncertainty, she will catch it.

“With him!” Pointing at the one person who’s been silent all this time, you can feel the gazes shift from you. You know what they say about a liar. They always have this compulsive need to supplement their lies with arbitrary details.

But it works, and everyone’s attention is now on Park Jimin. You can see his eyes dart around briefly for a moment before they return to yours. But they don’t seem any more panicked or surprised than they usually do. He is as cool and collected as he always is, and he doesn’t say a word, as usual.

“Damn, you and Park Jimin?” It’s Jeongguk who speaks up this time. “Who would have thought? I mean, the guy just started yesterday, that must have been hell of a welcome party you gave him.”

Several giggles and snickers break out in response to his lewd joke.

“Shut up Jeon, that’s not how pregnancy works,” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “They must have met each other months ago. Is this going to be another HR concern though? Inter-departmental relationships?”

Bae Joohyun glances down her nose at you derisively. “I have no wish to know what you do in your free time. But I must ask, Ms _____, that you inform HR immediately of any condition you have that might affect your ability to work.”

The intimidation wrought by Bae Joohyun is replaced by anger at her words. No wish to know about your personal matters, when she was the one who decided it was appropriate to ask why you need to take leave in front of the whole department? What if this was a real situation and you were facing an unplanned pregnancy? Instead of being offered sympathy and support, you’re faced with judgement. This woman is entirely heartless and should not be the head of a pro-family planning division. Not to mention that discussing your leave application publicly is utterly inappropriate. It’s this thought that gives you the courage to speak.

“So can I be approved?” You look her directly in the eye, throwing your shame out the window. What’s done is done. Since the whole department thinks you got knocked up from a one-night stand with a colleague, you might as well use it to your advantage. “For my half day leave. Can it be approved?”

A few beats of silence follow as Bae Joohyun looks cornered for the first time. There is an unspoken pressure even as people turn back to their desks to continue working. If she turns you down in front of everyone like this, she could quite possibly get reported for discrimination against pregnant women. Though it is unspoken, your shoulders relax as you realise you have the upper hand in this situation.

Bae Joohyun takes a deep breath.

“Fine. Approved.”

*

Wednesday morning, Jeongguk is an eager puppy trailing after you, begging for pictures and a blow by blow account of the concert.

“Just watch my Instagram story or something, I literally have no voice to talk to you right now,” you roll your eyes. Truth be told, your voice isn’t that bad off, but you just want to bask in that post concert afterglow for a moment.

“What was he like in person? Did you pass him my fan letter?” Jeongguk is relentless this morning, and his never ending chatter makes Park Jimin peek out curiously from behind his computer.

When your eyes meet, you freeze on the spot like a deer in the headlights. On Tuesday you left right after Bae Joohyun approved you, seeing as it was almost lunch time anyway. You decided that after winning a war, one rightly deserves to enjoy a stress free, worryless night out before returning to the battlegrounds once more.

But now that you’re here, it is a whole different story. Park Jimin glances at you wordlessly before resuming typing, and the awkwardness is killing you. You feel bad enough that you implicated him in this whole mess, probably ruined his reputation around here and maybe even giving HR a reason to keep a closer eye on him. But regardless, you probably should talk to the man and attempt to explain things, and at the very least, apologise.

“…ask him when his next mixtape is dropping?” Jeongguk is still at it.

“Hey, um, Jimin? If you have a moment this morning, can I speak to you in private?” You lean to the side to attempt to catch a glimpse of Park Jimin.

There is a slight pause before Jimin’s head appears, and he meets your eye for a moment before looking away again. He nods once before turning his head in the direction of an empty meeting room.

“Woah, should you be doing that in your condition, though?” Jeongguk comments with a lewd smirk even as his eyes lower to your mid-section, and you give him a scathing glare in response as you close your laptop.

“Shut up, Jeon. Just for the record, I ripped up and threw your letter in the trash,” you hiss at him, eliciting a horrified gasp as you follow Jimin to the meeting room.

*

“So, um…” You start off awkwardly once the door is closed.

Park Jimin is twiddling his thumbs, head bowed shyly and he refuses to make eye contact with you. Now that you think of it, his nerd glasses actually suit him quite well, but it’s just a shame that he’s too painfully shy to actually look anyone in the eye. He is quite a good looking guy, but maybe he has issues with his self-esteem is all.

“I wanted to apologise, first of all. And also explain myself,” you take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess. It’s just that- I… I just haven’t had a fucking break from Bae Joohyun ever since I started working in this fucking place.”

All the resentment just pours right out, and you’d be ashamed of yourself for using vulgarities at the workplace were it not for Park Jimin finally glancing up at you with a tiny smile on his face.

“I heard the rumours about her. So they’re true.” Jimin’s voice is still a little hesitant, wondering how much he should be gossiping about Bae Joohyun with another co-worker who could so easily rat him out and get him in trouble. But then, seeing as you’ve already managed to implicate him within a day of knowing him, how much dirtier can you do him, really? The thought brings a wry smile to his face once more. But then again, it seems like everyone here is more or less united by their intense dislike for Bae Joohyun. You of all people probably dislike her the most.

“True? What kind of rumours did you hear? And from where?” Intrigued by the man whom you’ve exchanged less than two words with before claiming to have had a one-night stand and a resulting pregnancy with, you lean forward in your seat.

Jimin shrugs. “Glassdoor.”

His response catches you off guard, and you are laughing with your hands over your mouth. “Oh my god. Please tell me you read the one where someone spit in her coffee. That was me.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Really? I thought that was by a 54 year old IT engineer.”

“I can’t be putting my real age and designation on there, can I?” You point out.

“Were you the one who bagged dog shit and hid it in her office?” Jimin has that tiny smile again, and you have to admit it’s sort of cute when he comes out of his shell. He is even more handsome when he smiles, brighter and somewhat infectious.

“19 year old marketing intern? Yep, that was me,” you sigh in contentment as you remember rage writing all those Glassdoor reviews after a particularly bad meeting that one week. You didn’t actually do all of those things, but just imagining it and writing public reviews was enough for you to get your imagined revenge.

“ ‘Hid some dog shit in her office so she can be reminded of how shitty her management style is’,” Jimin recites from memory. “You know, I almost withdrew my application because of that review.”

Jimin’s dead serious tone makes you laugh again. The sound of your laughter fills the empty meeting room, and you have to admit that this is the most relaxed and carefree you’ve felt while working here.

But belatedly you realise that you’ve gone very off topic, so you sober up and attempt to try to get things back on track again. “So anyway, about the um… one-night stand thing. We can just lie low for a while and make up some shit later. Tell them the baby didn’t make it or something.”

Jimin nods thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “Or we can say it was a false positive. Less for you to go through since people would be all over you with pity and sympathy if we said that. I don’t think you’d wanna be pretend to be distraught over an imaginary baby.”

“That’s right, you’re a genius!” You marvel the way he just comes up with these ideas so easily. “How did you know about false positives?”

Jimin only shrugs, pushes his glasses up on his nose a little and he seems to be blushing. “I studied biology as an elective back in university.”

There’s a pause of silence before you look him in the eye again. “I really am sorry, you know. For making you go through all this. I kind of just panicked and didn’t think before speaking.”

But Jimin doesn’t seem to be making as big of a deal of it as you are. “Y’know, it’s fine. It ispretty exciting to be accused of having a one-night stand on my very first day. Aside from that, things can only go up, right?’

It takes you a moment or two to realise that he’s making a joke, delivered in that deadpan way of his that betrays his sweet, innocent face. At your harried expression, Jimin breaks the act and giggles, and you nearly slump over with relief.

“So, I guess we have to act like we’re in a relationship too?” Jimin adds as an afterthought.

“It’s up to you, we don’t really have to make it that obvious,” you shrug as you get up from your seat and push the chair back to its original position. “I’m fine with being an unwed mother for a bit. I wouldn’t wanna trouble you any more than I already have. You don’t have to do anything else for me.”

Jimin is silent as he follows your lead toward the door. When the both of you are almost halfway back to your seats, he stops you with a brief clearing of his throat. “It wouldn’t bother me at all.”

You look back at him for a moment, and he just gives you another one of those shy little smiles as he goes back to his desk. For the rest of the afternoon, you find that you don’t really mind having an open office policy, not if it allows you glimpses of cute Park Jimin in his nerd glasses sitting opposite you.

*

The ruse goes on without a hitch for at least a few weeks. Here and there you get the odd look of curiosity and perhaps a little judgement from a few of the older ladies who tsk behind your back about you being a single unwed mother, but otherwise, things are better than ever. Just knowing that you have the freedom to take medical leave whenever you feel like it has improved your mood greatly, and the other day Namjoon from HR even came to tell you that you can come into work later if the morning sickness is really bothering you.

Most of all, people are also curious about the relationship between you and Park Jimin. Word has spread that he is the father of your pseudo baby by now, but thankfully no one is tactless enough to outright ask if you and Park Jimin are a couple now. Not even Namjoon from HR.

Monday morning comes, and you drag yourself into work, feeling slightly more worse for wear than usual. Every Monday, you have a progress meeting with your immediate superior that always leaves you in a bad mood after. It’s the same old tirade; getting piled with things that others have no time for, having previously submitted proposals rejected and being asked to redo them.

Today after the meeting, Jimin comes up to you just as you’re downing your fourth cup of coffee before 10am. He has a slightly anxious look on his face, one that’s out of place on his usual calm and composed self.

“Do you have a minute? We need to talk. Now.” Jimin turns immediately and starts walking towards the nearest meeting room, and in spite of yourself, your eyes are drawn to his ass in those pants. It almost makes up for the earful you got from your manager this morning. Almost.

“We’re in trouble,” Jimin says once you close the door to the meeting room. He is seated with his laptop open in front of him.

“What happened? Is it Taehyung from Baby Bonus again? I swear, if he accidentally deleted the whole archive, I’m going to shove a chair up his ass-“

“No, no it’s not about work,” Jimin swallows hard as he types something and turns his laptop to face you. “Over the weekend, someone wrote on my wall. They said- they wrote- just… just see for yourself.”

“Oh my god.” You hand flies to your mouth as horror slams into your gut. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill that stupid punk with my own two hands. Delete it now!!!”

“That’s not the point,” Jimin’s voice sounds strangled as he directs your attention to the comments. “That’s my Granny. She saw it.”

The full extent of the damage done doesn’t hit you until you read Park JungMin’s comment.

“What was your granny doing up at freaking 5am???” You hiss in anger, poking Jimin’s shoulder.

“I don’t know- she’s an old person! She probably couldn’t sleep!” Jimin snaps back.

“Why didn’t you delete it immediately after you saw it!?” You accuse Jimin, pointing a finger at him. “None of this would have happened if you just deleted the post!!!”

“I only saw it this morning, for your information,” Jimin turns his head away from you and crosses his arms. “Forgive me for having a normal sleep schedule.”

“Fucking Jeon Jeongguk, I’ll kill him, I really will,” you mutter as you start to pace back and forth, already contemplating the numerous ways in which you can torture him.

“What are we going to do?” Jimin’s hands hover nervously over his laptop. “Granny will be so disappointed if she finds out it’s a lie. Maybe we should just come clean.”

You whirl around in indignance. “We can’t do that!!! It’s far too soon, if the truth comes out now, everyone will know I was just faking it. We need to wait at least three months. I researched, that’s the most likely time for a woman to have a miscarriage. Why did you have to add your grandmother on Facebook??”

“Hey-! She just wants updates on my life because she lives all the way in Busan!!” Jimin looks affronted when you mention his granny like that. “And if we’re playing the blame game here, if it weren’t for your concert, none of this would have happened in the first place.”

“That was agust d,” you say simply, as if it explains everything. “And that’s not the point. You have to tell your granny that it’s all a lie and tell her to keep it to herself.”

“But what am I supposed to say?” Jimin whines, his bottom lip jutting out and you swear you almost see him stamp his foot like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“I don’t know, anything! Make something up!” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“She has a weak heart, she can’t take it,” Jimin insists as he stands up and crosses his arms. “She’ll keel over in shock if I tell her there’s no baby. And she told me she’s already booked on the first flight to Seoul. You have to take responsibility.”

The absurdity of this situation means that you can’t decide if you should laugh or cry. “Well what do you want me to do? I can’t just magic a baby into my stomach like that!”

Jimin stays silent, and the implication dawns on you.

“No way. You’re insane. You can’t possibly mean that we should-“

“She wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow night.��� Jimin says finally, his eyes now pleading. “She just wants to meet you. We don’t have to tell her that there’s no baby yet. Please?”

Oh. Well, for a second there, you thought Park Jimin was about to suggest something else entirely.

“It’s just one dinner,” Park Jimin pleads eagerly.

Your head is pounding, and the stress of the entire morning has caught up with you. Everything is too overwhelming, things are moving too fast and you’re too tired to argue with him any longer.

“Fine. Just one dinner. After that, we’re coming clean with Granny.” You fix him with a meaningful stare as his face lights up in glee.

“I promise!” Park Jimin grins as he claps his hands together. “Oh and ______... you might want to go easy on the coffee there. Pregnant women can’t have too much caffeine.”

*

This is ridiculous.

Just thinking that you could be curled up at home with a nice glass of wine in bed, instead of standing nervously outside some stranger’s house makes you more huffy and annoyed than usual.

Jimin beside you shoots you a look, and you roll your eyes.

“Did you hear me? Or do I have to repeat the entire story of how we met and ended up secretly dating for five months again?” Jimin nudges you in the ribs with his elbow.

“When I said make something up, I didn’t think you were going to become a scriptwriter for Marvel,” you roll your eyes back at him. “I’m just gonna let you do the talking. Ok? If they direct any tricky questions my way, I’ll just pretend I need to puke.”

Jimin sighs a long suffering sigh as he reaches for his keys. He always envisioned the first time he brought a girl home to meet his family as a wholesome affair. He imagined himself to be feeling over the moon, a little nervous but that was to be expected, and most of all, irrevocably in love with the woman standing at his side. Taking a glance at you now, Jimin can’t say this situation is ideal.

But hey, when life gives you lemons, right?

He opens the door and leads the way in, only to be accosted by a hug from his Granny having made it only about five steps in. Her comforting embrace and familiarity makes him relax again, and he hugs her back tightly.

“Granny! I missed you! How was the flight? Does your back hurt? You should have rested more! You should have let me pick you up at the airport,” Jimin says in a chiding tone as he places an arm around her, trying to steer her towards the living room area to take a seat.

But the stubborn old woman refuses with a smile that lights up her entire face when she catches a glimpse of you. “Ah, this must be ______! She looks so pretty! Too good for our little Jimin, I must say. Come in, come in!!! Take a seat and take a load off!!! You must be tired after working the entire day, and with the baby too.”

You can barely keep yourself from wincing when she mentions the baby, but otherwise, Jimin’s Granny is a very pleasant person. She exudes an aura of warmth and you feel at home with her immediately. Her compliments make you soft; and she seems to be incredibly genuine about them too. For the next five minutes, all she does is admire you; how smooth your hands are, how good your complexion is, how smart, kind and gentle you look, and also my oh my our little Park Jimin has managed to snag such a professional for a girlfriend.

“Granny, you’re embarrassing her,” Jimin mutters with a rosy blush spread across his cheeks as he stands beside the old woman. “And me as well.”

“Nonsense,” Granny chides Jimin as she turns to you with a smile that wrinkles at the corners of her mouth. “This is the first time our little Jimin has brought a girl home, you see. We were all worried that he was… you know, batting for the other team, which would be perfectly fine, but…”

“Granny!!!” Jimin actually does stomp his foot and cross his arms. The tips of his ears are red, the blush on his cheeks is prominent. “Granny, I’m hungry. Can we eat?”

It seems like Jimin knows exactly what works on Granny, because she turns around immediately and pats Jimin’s cheek. “Alright, alright puppy. We can eat now. Come, _____, you must be hungry too now that you’re eating for two. I asked Jimin about your favourites, I hope you like them.”

You glance questioningly at Jimin for a moment over Granny’s head as the two of you follow her to the dining table and have a seat opposite each other. While Granny’s warmth is nothing but welcoming, you can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. This, at least, is not what you were expecting. Granny seems perfectly fine with the notion of you being pregnant with Jimin’s child without getting married first. Perhaps society is shedding its traditionalist viewpoints and you just hadn’t realised it.

“You know dear, when Jimin told me the news, I was so overjoyed,” Granny says with a wistful smile on her face. “It’s one of my wishes to see Jimin happy with a girl he loves. And looking at the two of you now, even if I die tomorrow, I’ll be content.”

“Granny!” Jimin admonishes sharply. “You can’t say that! Your health has been getting better, hasn’t it? Are you taking your medicines? Three times a day, like the doctor said!”

Granny pats her grandson’s hand. “I am, puppy, I am. What does an old woman like me have to live for if her only grandson doesn’t even visit her anymore? At least now I’ll have the baby to look forward to. You’ll let me take care of it for you, won’t you?”

This last part she directs to you, and you glance nervously at Jimin. This is most definitely not what you signed up for when you agreed to this dinner. With every passing second, the guilt just piles higher and higher, till you feel like you might have trouble swallowing your food.

“Mrs… Mrs Park,” you say hesitantly, speaking for the first time since you set foot in this house. Pseudo baby or not, it just wouldn’t do to hurt this kind old woman, especially since she seems so excited and happy to meet you.

“Call me Granny, please,” she says as she pushes an extra bowl of rice towards you. “You should have this too.”

“Oh no,” you say automatically. “I’m watching my weight, so I shouldn’t…”

But it was the wrong thing to say. Granny immediately perks up, sitting straight in her seat, her eagle eyes on you. “Watching your weight, dear? Why would you be doing that now? You should be eating well for the baby! Is it this little punk who’s making comments about your weight?”

Granny seizes hold of Jimin’s ear and pulls, and he whimpers in the midst of spooning a giant bite of rice into his mouth.

“NO!” You blurt out in a panic, seeing your coworker’s face screw up in pain. You have to admit that you’ve been in a number of interesting situations with Park Jimin thus far, but something tells you that this isn’t the worst of it just yet. “No, Granny! I- I take it back. I’ll eat.”

Granny lets out a hmph as she releases Jimin’s ear with a warning glance towards her grandson. As Jimin reaches for a juicy looking sparerib, Granny’s chopsticks dart out and intercept him, causing the piece of meat to fall back onto the plate. She then expertly picks it up with her own chopsticks and drops it on top of your rice with a satisfied smile.

Jimin turns to Granny with a pout on his lips, and when your heart skips a tiny, little beat, you know you’re in trouble.

*

Somehow, bad news always comes on Monday mornings.

Today it comes in the form of Park Jimin, again, as he drags you into a meeting room the moment you finish your meeting with your manager.

“What is it now?” You hiss at him as he locks the door suspiciously. “Do you really need to do that? You know people think we’re like, fucking in here, don’t you? Thanks to your buddy Jeon Jeongguk.”

“Wait, what?” Jimin does a double take. “No, that doesn’t matter. My parents. They want me to marry you.”

“WHAT?” You screech so loudly that Jimin winces and covers his ears. “Tell them no, for fuck’s sake!”

“They already apparently bought an entire plot of land in the baby’s name,” Jimin goes on adding to the bad news as if he were adding fuel to the fire. “It’s in Baby Park’s name.”

“Oh my god.” Your head swirls and you wobble on your feet, and Jimin reaches out to steady you as if you were actually pregnant. You push his hand away with an irritated glare to remind him that all this is just a ruse. One that you’re beginning to seriously regret having cooked up all those weeks ago.

“What are we going to do?” Jimin sighs as he runs a hand through his hair, taking off his glasses for a moment to rub at his temples.

“We?” You exclaim. “What do you mean, we? Why are you talking as if we’re already married? You need to resolve this situation on your own, buddy. It’s not my fault your family likes to jump the gun!”

“What about you then?” Jimin snaps back with a raised eyebrow. “Look, it’s been two months, almost three, and I don’t see you making any plans to hide a watermelon under your clothes or tell people that it’s all just a scheme you cooked up.”

You gasp indignantly. “I was- I was working up to that! You know, coming up with my cover story, setting the stage, all that!”

Park Jimin crosses his arms in disbelief. “Oh really? So you’re planning on coming clean with everyone and telling them you’re not actually pregnant? Is that why you’ve been taking medical leave every week, running to the bathroom to ‘throw up’ every morning that you’re noton leave?”

“Have you been watching me?”

“A little hard not to, considering you sit right opposite me!”

The two of you are panting and staring hard at each other, both wrapped up in your own anger.

“Look, I’ll forget everything else. Just tell your parents to sell the land or something. The price of land has gone up recently, I’m sure they can still make a valuable profit if they sell now…”

Jimin’s eyebrow twitches. “Sell the land? When they think it’s for their precious grandchild?”

“There. Is. No. Grandchild,” you spit back at him. “Oh my god. We’re just going in circles here. I need to get back to work. My manager already gave me hell this morning, and I don’t need this from you too.”

You leave him in the meeting room and make your way swiftly back your desk, waking your laptop and checking your emails. A few minutes pass before you can fully calm yourself down and reorientate to what needs to be done. First, you redo that spreadsheet, feeling slightly better once you drown out the entire world and just focus on the numbers and cells in front of you. In fact, you forget about this whole terrible mess for a moment or two.

“Hey, _______?” There is a tap on your shoulder, and you turn around to see your manager hovering behind you. She bends down to squint at your screen, “You’re not still redoing the spreadsheet, are you? Our meeting ended an hour ago, you should be done with that by now!”

“I-I’m sorry, something came up, and I…” your voice is weak compared to hers, and vaguely you can see Park Jimin lean over slightly in his seat. “I’m done with it now. I’ll send it over.”

“Good. And get started on the operations manual. I need it all by 5pm today.” Your manager gives you a pat on the back, starts to walk off, and then hesitates. “I know you’re in a rather… delicate situation, but that shouldn’t affect your ability to work. It’s a busy period of time, _____, and I expect nothing but the best from my team. Got it?”

You swallow hard as you try and return her smile. “Got, it, Manager.”

Turning back to your screen, tears are blurring your vision as you attach the document to an email and send it off. You can feel the curious stares of your coworkers all on you, and you feel more self-conscious than ever. Never mind that pretending to be pregnant is all a ruse. It was supposed to make your life better, give you some breathing space, but you feel more suffocated than ever.

You need some air. Now.

Standing up, you grab your phone and dip your head, striding for the exit quickly so that no one catches the expression on your face. Hopefully, they’ll think you need to puke or something, and not pathetically hide in a corner and cry your eyes out. Thankfully, this morning you had the foresight not to apply any eye makeup, so you can rub your eyes as much as you want.

This corner is actually pretty nice. It’s secluded that no one would accidentally wander in and find a hysterically sobbing woman, yet it’s not too far that you can’t make it back to your desk within five minutes if your manager calls. You wipe your face with the back of your sleeve, taking a deep breath and getting ready to go back and face everything once more, when you notice a pair of loafers standing a few steps away.

“Are you okay?” Park Jimin’s voice is familiar. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… intrude, but you just looked so upset and… she was totally unreasonable. Using that as an excuse to comment on your work ethic. Just unacceptable.”

He is shaking his head with a serious expression on his face, and it makes you laugh suddenly. Jimin looks up in surprise, eyes wide, but then a small smile spreads across his face as well as he tucks his hands into his pockets. It occurs to you that if Park Jimin weren’t here, no one else would have come to check up on you.

“I’m used to it,” you shrug as you check your reflection in your phone screen. “It’s just… I just need to cry once and I’m fine. You weren’t supposed to see this side of me,” you attempt a weak laugh. “You’re only supposed to know the bad bitch side of me.”

“You can still be a bad bitch even if you cry every now and then,” Jimin shrugs as if it’s obvious. “If you’re done crying, can we go for lunch? I’m starving.”

*

You make Jimin buy you some meat and you wolf it down in front of him as if you really were eating for two. To his benefit, Jimin says nothing and only takes out his wallet when it’s time to pay.

On the way back to the office, feeling decently satisfied and absolutely sure that you have a tiny little food baby (with today’s dress being particularly unforgiving around the midsection), you can’t help but feel a little bit better. Maybe Park Jimin isn’t so bad after all.

“______? Oh my god, ______? Is that you?” A far off voice calls, and you turn back.

And you wish you hadn’t.

Min Yoongi comes striding towards you with a huge grin on his face, waving as if he can’t believe it’s really you.

“Shit shit shit,” you swear under your breath. How much unluckier can this day get?

Jimin looks at you quizzically.

“It’s my bastard ex who cheated on me by getting another girl pregnant,” you whisper to him by way of explanation. “They got married last month but I never responded to their invitation.”

“Oh,” Jimin says, immediately grasping the situation. “I got it. Don’t worry.”

“What?” You look at him in panic, seeing the expression on his face and not liking it one bit. “What are you gonna-“

But it’s too late now for any further conversation, since Min Yoongi is now in earshot. He grins again as he looks you up and down. “_____! What a surprise! Do you work around here?”

“Y-yeah, what a surprise too,” you say weakly.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” Yoongi’s eyes dart to Jimin standing beside you for a moment, before they fall to your midsection. “But might as well. I wanted to congratulate you on the baby, because what a coincidence, right?”

He hands you a beautifully embossed invitation card with the words ‘Baby Shower’ on it, and you can feel your face draining of all colour. You swear under your breath.

“Oh! And this must be… the father-to-be?” Yoongi somehow doesn’t pick up on the escalating horror on your face, because he turns to Jimin and extends a hand of congratulations. “Congrats, man! How’s it feel? Excited to become a dad?”

Jimin sneaks a quick peek at your horrified expression. “Y-yes! Absolutely…. Um, thrilled, we are.”

At Jimin’s confirmation, Yoongi’s face seems to fall a little, and seeing it makes your heart clench in vindication. Serves that cheating little bastard right.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone, ______... let alone serious enough to… have a baby and all that,” Yoongi’s voice mellows a little as he directs his gaze back to you. “I thought you didn’t want to have children… for a while, at least.”

You detect a little bit of regret in Yoongi’s voice, and maybe a little bit of something you can’t quite put your finger on right now. In your five-year long relationship with him, Yoongi always made it clear that he wanted to have children as soon as possible. It was one of the major roadblocks in your relationship, and eventually it became the tipping point that drove him into the arms of another woman who was desperate enough to pop out his babies for him.

Wait a minute. It almost sounds as if Min Yoongi is trying to blame you for making him cheat. All of a sudden, you want to show him how you’ve been living all these months. Completely fine and happy without him. Better off, even. You want to make this cheating bastard realise that you’re not pathetic. You open your mouth in indignation, but before you can say anything, you hear Jimin’s voice.

“It all happened so fast, really,” Jimin shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “When I saw her I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, and you know how life is… We aren’t getting any younger either, so we thought why not try for a baby while we’re at it? She’s perfect for me, and we’re very happy together.”

Jimin does it better than you ever would have been able to. His words are so smooth that even you are convinced that the two of you are in a stable relationship together. Glancing at him, Jimin looks so self-assured and confident that he puts Min Yoongi to shame.

Min Yoongi looks shell shocked. “R-right. Th-that’s really nice, I’m ha-happy for you guys. Congratulations again.”  

You have no idea how Jimin is making all of this up, but the look on Min Yoongi’s face is enough. It almost makes up for when you found out about the breakup through the pre-wedding invitations he sent you.

“But we- we haven’t really told anyone yet, so how did you find out?” A frown creases your brow as you mentally run through a list of people who know about this pseudo pregnancy. The whole company, for one. Jimin’s Granny. Jimin’s family. And now Min Yoongi. But the question is, who told Min Yoongi? It’s not like he has any links with Jimin’s family.

“I mean… I saw the bump,” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck as his eyes drop briefly to your waist. “And um… I know you blocked me on social media a while ago. But I just wanted to check in on you and see how you’re doing. And I saw someone post on Jimin’s wall about the baby. So I kind of put two and two together.”  

There’s an awkward silence as your hands immediately fold over your waist, your cheeks heating up self-consciously. You can feel Jimin struggle not to burst into laughter beside you, and you surreptitiously elbow him hard in the ribs.

“Anyway, um… I hope you’ll come to the shower,” Yoongi nods at the invitation again. “It’s on Sunday, and feel free to bring Jimin too. I uh… invited your mom too. I mean, it’s just… Your family wanted to know how Yeji and I were getting along with the baby and… we were so close so I figured…”

At this point the humiliation can’t get any worse. So you decide to just cut him off with a formal smile that you hope doesn’t look too forced.

“We’ll be there, Yoongi. See you.”

*

It’s fine. It’s all fine. Even if Min Yoongi knows, it’s all fine. You can just attend this baby shower, just show your face for about an hour or so and then disappear from his life altogether. And then he won’t even know that you didn’t have a baby.

The very definition of co-workers means that you only see each other on weekdays from 9am to 6pm. But if that’s true, then somehow along the way, you and Jimin had progressed far beyond the point of just being co-workers, to the point that you’re somehow spending half of your weekend with him.

You sigh to yourself as you watch all your friends’ kids run about screaming at the top of your lungs. You’re already beginning to get a headache from all these irritating little gremlins making so much noise. At least you’re not being asked to play with or look after any of the children. Seeing that you and Yoongi had dated for a substantial amount of time, most of the attendees at this baby shower are your mutual friends, and it’s awkward to say the least.

At least you have Park Jimin with you to be your pretend boyfriend slash husband so you won’t seem like the pathetic ex-girlfriend attending her cheater ex-boyfriend’s baby shower for his new wife. So far there haven’t been any difficult questions, just curious looks from your friends whom you haven’t seen in a really long time because you’re just so tied up with work.

“Hey babe, come here! This is really fun,” Jimin shouts to you from one of the game stations, and you have no choice but to stop sulking in the corner like an evil brooding witch.

(One of your friend’s kids had pointed an accusing finger at you the moment you arrived at the shower with a not so thrilled expression on your face.

“Mama, why is the evil witch wearing yellow, mama? Is she here to curse Sleeping Beauty?”)

“This is really fun,” Jimin says again as he pulls the blindfold off with a grin on his face. “Pin the diaper on the baby poo.”

He points to a target board with a questionable looking substance smeared all over the centre of it. The person next in line is blindfolded and trying to pin the diaper in the centre of the board, and there are disappointed yells when he misses.

To his credit, Jimin really does look as if he’s having fun. He’s been the only person to score a point at this game, and he’s acing all the other games: guess the baby food, pin the sperm on the egg, etc etc.

“I’m notpinning the diaper on the baby poo,” you frown at him. Who the hell comes up with these games? “Is there any wine here? God, I need a drink.”

Before you can wander away, Jimin grasps your elbow. “You can’t drink,” he says with a serious, chiding look on his face. “You’re pregnant.”

“No one here knows that, do they?” You roll your eyes at him and sidestep a screaming toddler who is barrelling down the walkway. For someone who was present at the time of conception of this scheme, Park Jimin really is taking this way too seriously.

Jimin sighs and follows you to the beverages table in defeat. If he can’t stop you from drinking, the least he can do is hold up his jacket around you to make sure you don’t get caught. But then, a very rounded, glowing looking pregnant woman suddenly accosts you, and by the look on your face, Jimin surmises that this can only be Yeji, the woman Yoongi cheated on you with.

“Ye-Yeji, you look… um… wonderful!” Your strangled voice gets lost as Yeji envelopes you in a huge hug, forcing you to squeeze up against her bump. “Congratulations!”

The mother-to-be is all smiles, her makeup is perfectly done and there is an ever present glow on her face. She looks like an absolute goddess in her flowy white dress and wavy hair, and its moments like this that remind you that Yoongi left you for someone better.

“I feel wonderful, thank you!” She places a hand on her protruding belly. “Oh, I was just chatting with your mother over here, you haven’t said hi to her have you? She’s been complaining to me that you don’t have time for her anymore!”

Fuck. Your mother. You’ve been avoiding her calls and messages for the past few months, and you give her a weak smile as she comes over with a dark look on her face. It’s not that you’re doing this on purpose, it’s just that the breakup with Yoongi was beyond messy. Everyone’s parents are naturally on their side after a breakup, but somehow your parents remained on Yoongi’s. Every call would be about Yeji’s pregnancy, how their baby room was progressing, how many kicks she felt in a day, all those needless details that only felt like repeated stabs to the heart when you were trying to heal and get on with your life.

“…I’m so glad you could come. When Yoongi told me the news, I was so excited I thought my water was going to break!” Yeji is gesturing excitedly as she gushes to your mother, and you freeze in panic.

She couldn’t have…

“_____, I can’t believe you’re pregnant too!”

Her exclamation has a few of your friends nearby turning around, and a few of them start to clap. Yoongi elbows his way through the crowd, his hair matted with sweat as he pants with exertion.

“Baby, you were supposed to wait for my cue!” He admonishes his wife with a slight frown, but then he kisses her lips when Yeji pouts.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait! It’s all just so exciting, I can’t believe _____ is going to have a baby too! I remember feeling so guilty in my first few months of pregnancy that I could barely sleep…”

“I know, I know, baby,” Yoongi shushes her with a kiss to her forehead. “Anyway, _____ and Jimin, we uh… we prepared something for you. We hope you like it, and uh… _____, I hope it can make up for all the shit I put you through in the past year.”

At this point, you don’t even dare to look at your mother. “Wh-what did you prepare?”

“It’s over there! In front of the photowall,” Yeji claps in excitement. “Go on! Everyone’s waiting!”

Everyone at the party clears a path for you and Jimin to make your way to the colourfully decorated photowall at the front of the party. On the floor in front of it sits a brown cardboard box.

With all eyes on you, you swallow hard and start to make your way to the photowall. Jimin follows behind you, whispering under his breath. “What the fuck is this?”

“Probably another lame party game or something… just play along,” you whisper back, your mind too preoccupied with thinking about how you’re going to explain your pseudo pregnancy to your mother. Knowing her disposition, it’s entirely possible that your father knows about it already, and maybe even your entire extended family, and… oh god-

The moment you step in front of the photowall, someone standing to the side of the box pulls something, and an explosion of balloons and streamers burst from the box. You are quite literally showered in confetti, and when you look up, there are four balloons spelling out the word ‘baby’, and another balloon with ‘congratulations’ on it.

“Congratulations on your baby!!!!” Someone shouts, and people are taking out their phones to take pictures of you and Jimin drenched in confetti. Someone claps, and soon, the entire party is clapping. There are hoots of congratulations, someone proposes a toast, your college friends are almost in tears, your sister is loudly announcing that this should go on Instagram, your mother is half crying and half glowering at you for not telling her sooner, and everyone is talking about you and your non-existent baby.

Beside you, Jimin is equally stunned, but unlike you, he isn’t at a loss for words. He pulls you in close, pretending to pose for the cameras with a jovial smile on his face.

He still has the gall to joke around as he says, “maybe we should have that baby after all.”

In the blink of an eye, things just got very, very out of hand.

*

Number of people who know about pregnancy

Whole company: (estimated 200 people)

Jimin’s Granny

Jimin’s family

Min Yoongi and wife

Attendees of Yoongi’s baby shower (estimated 50 people)

Your family

Total: 265 people

*

[artificialqueens]

Stupid For You, Chapter 5 (Crygi, Jankie, Jaida x Nicky) - Metaluna

Summary: In which everyone makes mistakes, and have to face consequences. 

A/N: Hey everyone! This does have a tw of domestic abuse.

The rest of the month went by smoothly for Jaida. She got to be team lead for most of her shifts, much to the jealousy of her coworkers. She didn’t care. She knew she was damn good at her job, and paid her dues for the past few years. It was what she deserved. Part of her was sad knowing it was her last summer at the park, but the idea of law school was much more exciting than telling guests that they had to put shoes on all summer.

She and Nicky continued their fling. It was some of the best sex Jaida had ever had. Jaida could feel herself developing feelings for Nicky, but rather than address them, she just ignored them. They’d go away on their own right?

She woke up at noon. Because there weren’t many leads in Sales, she worked six days a week, and it was her first day off in twelve days. She deserved to sleep in. Her phone buzzed. It was Nicky texting the groupchat.

Heyy ladies, I’m off today. Does anyone want to play in the park today?

This was her shot. Even though she and Nicky spent a lot of time together, they didn’t ever get the chance to just talk. Even after they hooked up, Nicky usually left pretty soon after, always having a reason to not hang out after.

First day off in 12. I’m down.

Nicky texted back quickly. See you at 2.

Jaida peered into her closet, and suddenly, she hated every single article of clothing that she owned. After rifling through shirts, and trying on different outfit combinations, she eventually settled on a cropped black tank top and army green shorts. 

Out of all of her coworkers, Jaida lived the furthest away. The half hour drive gave Jaida time to think. She knew that she felt differently about Nicky than she did with any of the previous flings. Even though she had her flings, none of them ended in a relationship. When she thought about Nicky, images flashed in her head of dinner dates, picking pumpkins, and curling up on the couch watching a movie. She had to do it. She had to bring Nicky to the Ferris wheel. If they went up together, they could talk it out. 

When Jaida arrived, it was only 1:40. The Landing, where the stores were, was in the front of the park, just off the entrance. She decided that she could harass her coworkers. Before entering Isle Mercantile, she saw Gigi walking with a cart full of beach towels.

“Gigi!” she called.

“Jaida! Hi! I saw you’re hanging with Nicky.” Gigi raised an eyebrow. “What exactly is going on with you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I really don’t.”

Gigi pushed her cart into a shady corner under the roof. “Here. Come over here. Step into my office.”

Jaida rolled her eyes and sighed. “It’s just so hard. I like her, and obviously she likes me enough to fuck me, but I don’t know that she likes me enough to date me.”

Her phone buzzed. Jackie.

Girl. I saw you were coming into the park with Nicky. Are you going to talk it out?

She decided she could reply later and continued. “It’s so embarrassing but I’ve never had a girlfriend. I don’t know how to have this conversation. I doubt she likes me.”

“If you guys have manage to hook up as many times as you have, I feel like you’ve got something there.”

“Thanks, Gigi. Hey, what’s been up with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just seem a lot less happy. Are you okay?”

Gigi nodded a little too quickly. “I’m fine! Anyway, Jaida if I don’t stock these towels, Brita’s gonna be pissed!”

Her phone buzzed again. It was Nicky.

I’m here. Meet at the food trucks!

After walking to the trucks, Jaida spotted Nicky at a table. The sunlight was hitting the blonde in just the right spots, making the her look even more beautiful than normal.

Jaida decided to sneak up behind Nicky. “Boo, bitch.”

She jumped, nearly falling out of her chair. “You bitch!”

“Let’s go ride the Jinn. I haven’t done it yet this year.”

While in line, she decided to text Jackie back.

I really want to, but I don’t know what to say, or how to bring it up. All I know that this feels different. This isn’t the same as all the others for the past three years. I can’t describe it. I really, really like Nicky. I want to take the next step, but I don’t know if she does.

As she hit “send” she returned her phone to her pocket, right as Nicky picked hers up.

Jaida knew what she did. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How could she be so stupid?

“So, that didn’t go to Jackie. Jaida…” Nicky began. “Is this true?”

Jaida was hoping to bring Nicky up in the Ferris wheel. Even though things never fell in her favor, it was a comforting place. The line they were in was a 30 minute wait. They had nothing but time to talk it out. Even though it wasn’t ideal, Jaida nodded. “It is.”

Nicky sighed. “Jaida, I like you, I really do.”

This is exactly how every other girl began when they wanted to cut things off.

“And it’s not you it’s me?” Jaida predicted.

“It’s a cliché, I know. But I have so much going on right now, that I really can’t date anyone, not just you. Jaida, I really do like you. A lot. In other circumstances, we would already be dating, but right now I can’t give you what you want. I understand if you don’t want to keep doing… what we’re doing. I will respect your decision either way.”

“No worries!” Jaida said happily, even though she felt like she was going to cry. “I’m totally fine with what we have.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise.”

For the fourth year in a row, Jaida felt her heart break. She was left wondering if things were better had she taken Nicky for a ride in the Ferris wheel.

—–

After her shift, Gigi sat at her desk sketching a dress. She felt her phone buzz. 

can you come over

Yea. Everything all good?

no

I’ll be there in ten

Gigi made the ten minute drive in five. Crystal answered the door. Her eyes were red, it was easy to tell that she’d been crying the past few hours. Her hair was disheveled, and she was wearing an oversized sweat shirt. “Come in.”

Wordlessly, Crystal led Gigi into her bedroom. All of her walls were hand painted beautifully, each wall with a different color scheme. Her room was slightly messy, but still somehow organized. A picture of Harry Styles hung above the bed. An easel was in the corner with an abstract painting. The closet door was propped open, exposing Crystal’s brightly colored clothing.

 “Talk to me,” Gigi said said as she and Crystal sat on her bed. 

Crystal started crying as she sat down. “It’s Ryan.”

“What happened?“

“We started talking about me going off to college in a couple months. Usually when we talk about it, he won’t talk about it. Well, I needed answers… and I got them. He told me that if I didn’t stay home, he would break up with me.”

“Oh, Crystal.”

Gigi was pissed. She knew how hard Crystal worked to get into the graphic design program. The school they were to attend in the fall wasn’t easy to get into. It had a 50 percent acceptance rate. Crystal was too talented to let that go to waste. The audacity of that boy to ask her to throw that all away. She wanted to tell Crystal everything she was thinking, but instead, she held Crystal and stroked her hair.

“We’ve been together since we were fifteen. I don’t know how to live without him, you know?”

“Mmm.”

“I just love him so much, I don’t think I can leave him. I think I’m going to withdraw my application from Ferris.”

“Crystal, no. You can’t. You worked your ass off to get into that school. You know you did.”

“I know. But I love him.” Crystal rubbed her eyes, causing her sleeve to roll down, revealing a deep bruise.

Gigi gasped. “Did he do that to you?”

“He didn’t do it on purpose! He said I was being unreasonable, and he was right. He just needs to calm me down sometimes, you know?”

“No, Crystal. I don’t know. That’s not okay, under any circumstance. I don’t care if you cheated on him. That does not give him the right to ever put his hands on you.”

“I’m so stupid. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have even applied to that school in the first place.”

“Absolutely none of this is your fault. Please don’t ever say that it is.”

Crystal sighed. “I think I need to stay here.”

“I think you’re wrong. But, what I do think is that Ryan’s bad for you.”

“How fucking dare you.” Crystal’s voice was harsher than Gigi had ever heard it. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s known me a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

“Crystal…” Gigi felt tears forming.

“No. Don’t start. You don’t understand what all we’ve been through. How could you? You could never understand because you’ve been alone your entire life. You can’t let people in. Even me. You’ve been weird as shit every single day since the party, and won’t tell me why. All you do is shut people out when they’re trying to help you. Me, Jan, Jaida, Jackie… We’ve all tried to ask you what was wrong, because clearly something’s wrong. You don’t let people in, or you get fucking pissy. Why? It’s not our faults that your dad fucking left. Stop taking it out on us.”

Gigi sat completely stunned.

Crystal realized what she had said. “Gigi… I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry. I–”

“I think it’s time for me to go. Find your own ride to work, or walk your ass there. I don’t care. Don’t text me. Don’t fucking talk to me.”

“Gigi, wait!” Crystal called. But it was too late.

–

On the drive home, Gigi felt her chest tighten and knew a panic attack was starting. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to drive, she pulled into a parking lot. All she could think of were Crystal’s words which cut her like a knife. Gigi knew that Crystal wasn’t a cruel person, and that it was all in the heat of the moment, but it didn’t matter. Gigi didn’t even know where the words came from, why out of nowhere Crystal would bring up Gigi’s behavior in that conversation, and she really didn’t know why she brought her dad into it. 

Her phone lit up.

gigi, i am so fucking sorry. idk where that came from. i don’t mean it. i hope you know that. that was fucked for me to say. so fucked. i understand if you don’t want to reply and need your space, but know that I am so fucking sorry, and ill never forgive myself for what i said. i can tell what i said really hurt you, and i understand if you dont want to talk, but just know if you ever do, i’m always here to listen

Gigi started typing.

Yeah, that WAS fucked. That fucking hurt me more than I could say. When I said my dad wasn’t a good person, I meant it. When I had my first girlfriend, I came out to my parents. My dad wanted to throw my ass out, and my mom wouldn’t let him, and said that it if I wasn’t out of the house, he was going to leave. My mom would never throw me out, so now he’s gone. It fucked with me. You wonder why I can’t people let me in? That’s why. I’m fucked up, and you’re right. I do need my space. Leave me alone.

She reread her response, and decided she didn’t owe Crystal an explanation, and deleted every word of the text.

—

Crystal was laying on her bed looking up at the ceiling, which was painted like a galaxy. How could she be that cruel? Her words were volatile. Crystal didn’t know the whole story. Even if she did, it wasn’t right to bring it up, especially not like that.

She had to make it right. She sat on her phone, trying to formulate the perfect apology text. A text felt so impersonal, but Gigi hated talking on the phone, and hated Facetiming. Crystal knew that a text would be the best thing she could do. After rereading her text a few times, she hit Send.

Gigi was typing something. Something long. Crystal anxiously waited for her reply, but the three dots disappeared. Instead, she was left with Read.

The pain Crystal felt was stronger than anything before. It was worse than anytime Ryan laid his hands on her. It was worse than the time he cheated on her. It was worse than anything, and she had no idea how she was going to make it right.

[wonjaekook]

Growing Pains

A/N: The last trope was pretty heavy, so we’re going with something a little lighter this time (also because Mark Lee is the sweetest, most awkward boy ever and I love him)

21 Tropes: 5. Roommates AU + black w/Mark

Description: When you see him again, Mark Lee is both the same and very, very different. Since he’s changed, some of your feelings towards him change as well.

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: fluff, slight angst

Warnings: somewhat suggestive (sex mentions? idk what to call it lol), swearing

The first time he saw your underwear, it was white. At the time, it hadn’t meant much to him at all. You were both toddlers, and you saw each other like that many times afterwards. For kids, it wasn’t anything abnormal, so every time it happened, he promptly forgot about it.

You and Mark were as thick as thieves back then - you barely spent a day away from each other. Thinking back on it, that togetherness didn’t last all that long, but it was enough for you to think about him for years afterwards. Unbeknownst to you until much later, it left an impression on him, too. But, all good things must come to an end, and, one sunny summer day, Mark’s mother tells your mother that his family is moving away before school is back in session. Your mom tries to let you know as gently as possible, but you’re still heartbroken, wailing and crying for your best friend not to leave you. Ever influenced by your emotions, Mark cries along with you, but promises that you’ll meet again one day. It’s a child’s promise, but it’s something. It’s enough for you to stand there instead of chasing after the car, sniffling with teary red eyes, as you just watch his family drive away.

Your first professor on your first day of college brings back that memory. As a writing exercise, he asks you to recall a time you had been very emotional and to explain how you felt then. You’re filled with a sense of melancholy - Mark Lee was not someone you had thought about in a long time.

As you take a seat in your next class, not in the back, but not in the front, you make a quick scan of your class. Other students file in slowly and, when you don’t recognize anyone from the small handful of acquaintances you’d made so far from orientation or your floor, you almost regret attending a university where virtually no one from your high school went. One boy with dark, wavy hair looks almost familiar, but, when he doesn’t meet your eyes and walks in with another tall boy, you lose hope and just look down at your desk. The class eventually settles and your history professor introduces herself before beginning roll call. You raise your hand when she calls your name and proceed to zone out again. That is, until a name from your past calls you back to reality for the second time that day.

“Mark Lee?” You instantly look up, turning your head to scan the classroom. If, even on the off chance… 

You turn around to see the wavy haired boy from before, finding that he’s looking at you, too. The professor calls his name again more persistently and his hand snaps up. “Here, sorry.” She brushes it off, but you don’t, continuing to look at him for just a bit longer. He gives you the same smile that you’d never forgotten and you can’t help but smile back.

“Mark,” you say, sidling up to him after class, “how are you?” Looking at him more closely now, he’s obviously very different from the last time you’d seen him. Back then, he was a kid, literally, and now… well, now, he’s a college student. He’s taller, his features are sharper, and he dresses like a college boy. Despite all that, he still has his wavy hair and big, brown eyes, and you’re reminded of your childhood.

“Y/N! I really didn’t think I’d see you here.” He says before quickly realizing what the implications might be and backtracking. “Not that it’s a bad thing! I’m glad we got to meet again.” You laugh. You’re pleased to find that, even though he’s still a little bit awkward, it’s part of his charm along with his generally sweet personality.

“I got you, Mark,” you respond, smiling. As you’re about to ask how he’s been for the last few years, his tall friend from before joins the two of you.

“Mark, who’s this?” His tone is borderline flirtatious and you almost frown - he’s the kind of guy who’s attractive and knows it. For Mark’s sake, you try to push your inhibitions away. Even though you haven't talked to him in years, you feel as though you should be able to trust him and, by extension, his friends.

“Lucas, this is Y/N,” Mark says, gesturing between the two of you, “we used to be best friends when we were little.” You shake his hand and, when he smiles at you, you relax a little bit. Maybe you’d misjudged Lucas. It isn’t much longer after that when Lucas breaks away to go to his own class, but you and Mark keep talking. You keep walking and talking, not paying attention to where you’re going, until you both come to the sudden realization that your next classes start in less than five minutes, so you separate and book it. The short jog you have to make and the few minutes late you are is worth it.

You meet Mark pretty frequently after that and you find that he’s the same but different - in a good way. For your history class, your teacher lets you, Mark, and Lucas work together for projects and you find your core friend group emerging. When the seasons pass and freshman year runs its course, you find yourself happier than you’d been in a long time. Like you had done when you were kids, you drag Mark along with you to do dumb things together, and he convinces you to not go through with some of the particularly bad ideas. At the same time, Lucas encourages you and you find yourself with enough scrapes and bruises to rival your younger self, albeit, you’re drunk more often when you acquire them this time.

As things sometimes do, plans for living arrangements fall out for the next year. Lucas, who was initially supposed to room with Mark, finds that one of your upperclassman friends by the name of Jungwoo needs a roommate and would be evicted without one. So, one night, Mark asks you if you want to get an apartment slightly off-campus with him. You consider yourself to be close with Mark - you don’t think too much about the consequences until you’re agreeing and you’ve become his future roommate.

First summer. When you go back home, you miss your friends terribly - Mark, Lucas, Yeri, Chaeyoung, Jungwoo - after all of the time you spent together, it’s incredibly strange to not see them every hour of every day. The phone and video calls just aren’t the same.

At some point midway through the summer, you come to the realization that you’re going to be sharing an apartment with Mark. You had never shared a house with a man other than those in your family. What would it be like? You had been in his dorm room before and he wasn’t entirely disorganized. When you ask your mother, she’s unworried - he’s Mark Lee after all and, though neither of you had seen him for years after he moved, he’s still Mark. You’re put slightly more at ease after talking to her and you set your hopes high. Your mind wanders only briefly to the romantic implications of you living with Mark; it isn’t like he’s undateable, or unattractive, or unappealing in any unforgivable way, but he’s your childhood friend. Your summertime loneliness almost gets the better of you then, but, to avoid thinking about Mark like that, you shift your focus onto Lucas.

Lucas is your second best friend, the one you’re closest to after Mark, the one who jokingly but not jokingly flirts with you, the one who helps to cure your loneliness at not having had a solid boyfriend all year. When you move into your apartment at the beginning of the year, Lucas is there to help. Mark doesn’t think much of it until he hears you lose your virginity to Lucas through the walls two weeks after school starts. When he lies in bed that night, listening to the two of you, he remembers what he had seen after the first week of living with you.

The first time he saw your underwear and felt something, it was black. He backed out of the room quickly, covering his eyes while stuttering apologies, inevitably both bumping his elbow on the doorframe and tripping on the air all at the same time. Your first instinct was to cover yourself, but, as you watched him trip and fall, you couldn’t help but burst out into laughter instead, forgetting about your half naked state.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!” He kept a hand pressed over his eyes even as he was sitting on the floor. After you recovered from your laughing fit, you quickly pulled on some shorts.

“Mark, you can look now.” He kept his hand there for a moment longer before looking through the crack in his fingers. When he saw that you had pants, he let out a sigh of relief. At the same time, he realized that his elbow and tailbone hurt from his fall and he groaned, picking himself up off the floor and rubbing the offending areas.

“S-sorry, Y/N, I’ll be more careful next time.” He refused to meet your eyes, but you thought the blush on his face was adorable.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s bound to happen sometimes.”

That night, he went to bed with a lot to think about. Of course, when he’d reunited with you, he knew you wouldn’t be a little girl anymore. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew that you had gotten prettier and smarter and grown in every way, but he hadn’t really processed it until he saw you in your underwear.

Now, two weeks later, it sinks in even more. He doesn’t want to think about his best friends having sex, but he can’t really help it. The two of you are kind of loud and he can imagine you perfectly. He tries to clear his head - you’re his roommate, his childhood friend, one of his closest friends, you’re Y/N L/N - but he can’t stop thinking about if it was him instead of Lucas.

To Mark’s relief, whatever is happening between you and Lucas dies out quickly. However, when you stop hooking up with one of your best friends, your mind drifts back to the other. Somehow, you don’t let your feelings slip when you’re out partying with Mark and Lucas, or any of your other friends for that matter, and the fact that you’re possibly in love with Mark doesn’t sink in until about two months into school. It’s one Saturday morning, after a night of drinking with your friends, that you realize Mark isn’t what he used to be - but not in a bad way.

You’d had a night with the girls while all the guys had gone out, so you figured that Mark would want to eat something after whatever went down last night. Somehow, you’re awake before him and he stays asleep through all the noise you make cooking.

“Mark!” You call down the hall. “Breakfast!”

A few seconds later, you hear the door to his room clicking open and he shuffles out, hair very disheveled and clothes not on completely straight. You watch him with an amused grin as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes before walking over to the cabinet to get a glass for water. His sleepy boxers and oversized black t-shirt look warms your heart, but then he’s reaching up to grab from the highest shelf and his shirt rides up, revealing his surprisingly toned stomach. When his shirt falls back into place, you’re looking away, fighting the blush on your cheeks. He’s your roommate, but, more importantly, he’s Mark Lee - what are you thinking?

Mark Lee is your dumb friend from grade school, Mark Lee is your neighbor’s son, Mark Lee is your college roommate, and Mark Lee has grown into a fine-ass man.

Mark Lee is blond right now?

You look back at him with a start, the reality of his new hair color sinking in quickly. “Mark?” You say, gesturing to his hair, “What is that?”

“I lost a bet…”

“What the hell kind of bet did you lose?” All you can do is stare at him after you ask.

He scratches the back of his neck, slightly mussing up his newly-bleached blond hair. “To be honest, I don’t really remember… but Lucas texted me this morning to be mad at Donghyuck if I don’t like my new hair color.”

You immediately burst out laughing, much to Mark’s shame. He simply stares at you, lips pursed and a blush growing on his face, while you hunch over, laughing loudly. Though he’s outwardly very embarrassed, a part of him on the inside bursts with pride at making you laugh so hard. You can’t pinpoint exactly what is so funny about what he said, but you can’t stop laughing for a solid minute. Once your laughter quiets down and you try to catch your breath, Mark finally speaks up. “Is it really that bad?”

“No,” you wheeze, regaining your breath, “it looks nice. That’s just so funny.” He cracks a small smile in response before the two of you sit at your small dining table to eat your breakfast. What was supposed to be a quick meal is drawn out much longer as you and Mark and catch up with what happened the night before - other than the secrets you two were forbidden from telling one another, of course - and it’s an hour and a half past when you started when you finally decide that the two of you should probably get cleaned up. You can’t help but think that life would be perfect if every moment you had with Mark was like this. Beginning to fill the sink with soapy water so that you can wash dishes, you hear him behind you.

“Wait, there’s a knife in here…” He suddenly leans forward, reaching past your shoulder to reach into the sink and grab the knife that he had used and tossed into the water after eating.

“Mark, how-” You freeze as you turn your head, finding his face to be much closer than you thought. His warm breath washes over your lips, his wide eyes meeting yours. You can barely breathe and, suddenly, all you can think about is kissing him. Your inability to read his expression makes your heart race even faster with nerves, but you can’t tear your eyes away. He moves ever so slightly and, at that moment, the hot water filling the sink touches the tips of your fingers and you snap out of it, turning your head back around quickly to see the foamy water almost overflowing the sink. Shutting off the faucet, you try to unpause the situation, starting to scrub at a dish. “Mark, how many times have I told you not to leave knives in the sink?”

“S-sorry. I’ll be more careful.” While you had tried to bounce back to normal, his voice is still quiet and his demeanor is timid.

You spend the rest of your time washing the dishes wondering if he feels the same way as you do.

With a bit more contemplation, you figure that the most you can do is suppress the feelings, push them down until you can pretend they don’t exist. Push them down every time you see him walking around half-naked in your apartment, push them down every time he’s sweet and brings you coffee between classes, and especially push them down late at night when you’re lonely in more ways than one. Unluckily for you, alcohol brings out even your most deeply repressed feelings.

You can’t avoid Mark, you don’t want to, and you certainly can’t avoid the party that you help plan at your shared apartment in celebration of midterms being over. You forget about the bad decisions you often make and the secrets that leave you when you’re drunk and decide to let loose - exams had killed you and your feelings weighed down on you nearly constantly, even when you were focused on schoolwork. But none of that matters as you play beer pong against Yeri and ignore as your apartment starts to become messier and messier.

Eventually, the energy dies down some, so, in an attempt to liven it up again, Lucas calls everyone together. For how small your apartment is, you’re surprised at how many people you can fit in it. As you all gather around, Lucas, in his hazy, drunken state makes a suggestion that pokes the embers of the party back to life.

“Let’s play spin the bottle!”

The suggestion is met with equal groans and cheers, but everyone gathers around the empty beer bottle Lucas had retrieved nonetheless. You look around the circle and, for the first time that night, you notice that Mark had died his hair back to black. A very dark, very sexy black. Mind heavy with alcohol, you nearly blurt out how attractive he looks but, thankfully, the game starts with Jungwoo kissing Taeil, one of your graduate student friends, directly on the lips. You forget about the way you had reacted to your roommate until the bottle makes its way to you for the second time. On your first spin, you just had to kiss Chaeyoung - something you’d drunkenly done plenty of times - but, with the universe on your side, your second spin lands on Mark.

If he had been the tiniest bit more sober, he would have been blushing and stuttering like crazy, but, as you approach him, clambering onto his lap, he simply draws you closer, taking initiative as your lips meet. As you kiss him, the world doesn’t melt away or anything like that. You are very much aware that you are in your apartment, sitting on the floor in a circle made up of your friends, and, so as to not draw too much attention to how badly you had wanted this to happen, you pull away quickly. Maybe not quickly enough, though, as your friends hoot and holler as you do so. As you pull away, you meet a little resistance in the form of Mark’s hand on your waist and the dark, heavy look in his eyes, his freshly-dyed black hair sweeping his forehead. Even so, you pull away, retreating back to your spot in the circle. Not long after, the group disperses as people find other things to do, different games to play. Everyone forgets the silly kissing game that had just gone on. That is, everyone but you and Mark.

An hour later, you’re trying to find your friend Mina to rope her into playing some game with you when you feel a hand on your wrist. When you turn around, you see that it’s Mark dragging you into your bedroom. The door doesn’t even fully shut behind you before he’s staring you straight in the eyes, a type of heat that you had never seen from him before burning in them. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You almost instantly know what he’s talking about, even through the alcohol muddling your thoughts. “Me neither.”

He takes that as permission, roughly bringing his lips to yours to kiss you again. This time, you don’t hold back. You let out all the pent up sexual frustration and tension between the two of you by meshing your lips with his. It’s a messy kiss, full of frustration, longing, and the feelings that neither of you will admit. He guides you backward before he pushes you down onto his bed and, for a moment, you’re afraid of what this all means. That fear quickly morphs into a different one as, out of the corner of your eye, you see the bedroom door begin to open. You shove Mark away quickly and he stumbles back as Yeri opens the door. To your relief, she doesn’t see anything wrong with the situation and just walks over, grabbing you by the arm and mumbling something about finding Mina and wanting to play the game that you had forgotten about. When you glance back, you can’t read the look on Mark’s face.

Even with more shots and more bottles of soju, the unease in your heart doesn’t go away for the rest of the night.

The next morning is even worse. You remember exactly what you had done and it rips you to shreds a few minutes after you wake up. After you crawl out of bed, you stumble to the bathroom with a hangover worse than any you’d ever had before. You splash some water on your face and look in the mirror and remember what you had just done with your roommate. Your roommate. Your childhood friend. Mark fucking Lee.

You don’t call him for breakfast that day, but you leave a plate out for him and let him sleep. Your head pounds with the mistakes of the night before, so you turn on some quiet music in an attempt to distract yourself as you start to clean up the apartment from the aftermath of the party. At some point, Mark gets up. You see him moving out of the corner of your eye. When he sees the food you had left out for him, he finally speaks. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You hum in response, not really wanting to speak at the moment. You wonder if he remembers it like you do. When he joins you to help clean a few minutes later, you can immediately tell that he knows. Your heart sinks. You just ruined a relationship. You just ruined your relationship with your roommate and best friend because you couldn’t keep your goddamn feelings in check-

He just ruined a relationship. He could tell from the way you refused to look at him and barely gave him a response when he thanked you for the food. He just ruined his relationship with his roommate and best friend because he couldn’t keep his feelings under control.

You barely say a word to each other for the first few days after the party, to the point even your other friends notice. When they ask you what’s wrong, you just shrug. When they ask Mark, he just looks away and mumbles some excuse. Except, even when you’re avoiding each other, you can’t help but think of him. Despite everything, you leave him breakfast in the mornings. Mark’s an atrocious cook. He won’t admit it, but, after living with him for the past few months and having reconnected with him more than a year ago, you know it. He knows you make it on purpose and that it’s not just extra food that you made and don’t want to throw away, so he silently thanks you and accepts it.

In the same way, even without talking to you, he can’t break the little habits he built around you. In the class that you have together, even though you don’t speak to one another, he leaves a cup of your favorite coffee on your desk. You know exactly who it’s from and you quietly accept it, not knowing whether to smile or cry.

Still, with the tension between you that comes with the silent treatment, your friends soon get sick of it. That’s why, one afternoon, when you’re supposed to go out with the girls for lunch, they all “suddenly” cancel on you and why Jungwoo, Lucas, and Donghyuck are all “sick” when Mark is supposed to go work on a project with them. You get a call from Yeri at the same time that Mark gets a call from Lucas.

“You can’t leave until you two sort things out.”

Slowly, you emerge from your bedroom. Mark does the same and you look at each other. “I guess,” Mark says carefully, “we should probably talk about this?”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding slightly, “I guess we should.”

“I think we should-”

“I need to-”

You both start and stop speaking at the same time. “Sorry,” you say, breaking the silence again. “I guess it’s been so long that we forgot how to talk to each other.”

“Maybe.” He finally gives you a small smile and you feel the slightest bit of relief. It feels like forever since you had seen him be anything but uncomfortable or indifferent to you. That relief doesn’t last long, as he begins to talk again. “I’m sorry for, you know. I’m sorry for kissing you at the party. I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”

“Mark-” You try to stop him. If everything is coming out now, you need to be honest about your feelings.

“I think that maybe we shouldn’t be roommates again next year.” Your heart sinks. That wasn’t at all what you wanted to hear. His eyes move everywhere but yours as he continues to talk. He had clearly put a lot of thought into it. “I could room with Lucas and Jungwoo and you could room with Yeri and Chaeyoung, or something. I just think that-”

“Mark, can you listen to me?” You finally break him out of his ramble. He stops, looking you in the eyes again. “Mark, I like you. Like, a lot more than friends or roommates like each other.” You see him swallow hard, his lips parting in surprise. “And… if you think that those feelings hurt our relationship as roommates, then I agree with what you’re saying. I just… thought you should know.” You wait for his response, but he just continues to stare at you. You notice a reddish hue slowly grow on his cheeks and at the tips of his ears and you can tell that he’s thoroughly embarrassed, but you still don’t know how he feels. “Mark?” You say again, and he snaps out of it.

“Sorry,” he breathes out, “I just really didn’t think you liked me, too.”

Your whole body seems to warm at once as you take your own time to process what he had just said. Suddenly, you can’t stop yourself from moving forward, wrapping your arms around him, and hugging him tight. He returns the hug equally as hard, pressing his face into your hair as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck.

“It really took us too long to talk about that like adults, didn’t it?” You laugh into his shirt, nearly crying from relief. He nods, savoring your warmth after not having been around you for so long. It’s a long moment before the two of you pull away again to look at each other. His eyes meet yours before flickering down to your lips, and you think that you have the same idea that he does.

“Can I kiss you again? For real this time?” You give him a strong yes and meet him in the middle.

[1000roughdrafts]

5 and 6 ✨

Ooh these are fun ones! Sorry for taking so long with this

5- Do you believe in ghosts and supernatural things?

I absolutely do! 100%, hands down, no question about it.

6- Have you ever experienced anything supernatural?

Ohhh boy, have I! I honestly don’t know what story to choose. I’ve dealt with ghosts, I’ve dealt with a Trickster, I have a spirit guide, I’ve experienced time shifts or glitches in time, I’ve astrally projected, and seriously felt (my bf witnessed) that I slipped into another dimension momentarily though that could have just been another weird projection.

Let me just say, I have been dealing with (for lack of a better word) the paranormal since I was young. It’s always just been normal to me (lols) and a huge reason I am so drawn to the show Supernatural, and unlike my skittish boyfriend, this shit gets me pumped up.

The most thrilling(?) story, just off the top of my head is probably how I met Ron (Trickster/Attachment).(and this got longer than I expected so I added an insert)

So, okay, I’m really really gonna try and keep this short and if anyone wants to know more I’ll delve deeper, but bottom line is that a couple friends of mine live about 15-20 minutes out of town, right? They own a good 2.5-3 acres of land, but behind their property is just the states forest. And I live in Oregon, okay? So trees are everywhere.

When they bought the place, there was a little, mini travel trailer sitting on it, and I wish I had pictures of it for you, but this trailer looked like it exploded from the inside out. So we all kind of just thought, you know, this is out in the middle of nowhere, we have found a few pipes for the kind of smoking that is definitelyyyyy not legal in Oregon, if you know what I mean. And inside the trailer, aside from glass shards everywhere, was just a stove, a sink, a sleeping bag on the bed, more mini, camper stoves and a huge monitor for a desktop computer. So we assumed, drug cook gone bad turned explosion, but that was just, of course, a theory.

I was wasted when I went out there for the first time, so my already hightened senses were through the roof but I was also vulnerable as heck. The second I laid eyes on it, different emotions started to swelter in me. I detach myself from the group (psa-never leave your group) and went to the other side to wrap my hand through the window, and link it around the frame of the door (both open) and the second I did this, literally the best way I can describe it is every emotion I have ever felt in my entire life flowed through me in a matter of half a second, and I fell to the ground, cutting my hand and arm in the process, bleeding and crying everywhere. A single piece of glass stuck in my hand and I, being stupid, kept it as a keepsake, cause why not right? Psh.

I ended up seeing him one night in person and then in a picture (that ended up turning all black?) and it scared the ever living shit out of me. He was like a mix between a short slender man and a skeleton. Like, imagine that, and the skeleton face had huge, iris-less black eyes, high cheek bones, broken and missing teeth. It looked like he had skin, but instead of the mannyyy layers a human would have, he had like 2. I don’t do the terror justice.

So a few weeks go by and everything is fine and normal, but then strange things started happening at home, but i didn’t make the connection until years later. My roommate, R, slept in the living room to be colder at night, and above where he slept on the wall was the fire alarm. He said for 2 or 3 nights in a row, in the middle of the night, that thing would speak in a low, and deep male voice but he couldn’t understand what it was saying. So he took it off the wall, it did it again. We took the batteries out, it did it again.

I was, and still am, really into chakra/healing stones, so I spent hours researching what the best stones to use would be, (for example: Jade works great for the heart chakra, so I put it where the batteries would go, Soladite-throat chakra, placed it where the speaker section is on the alarm) cleansed them, meditated on them and then placed them all on the alarm over night with it by my bed. Essentially my plan was the cleanse the alarm and like, rebirth it? I guess? Idk I was scared and didn’t know much, but after a couple of nights it worked, he gave up, but that was the first sign.

Fast forward like 2.5 years of depression and suicidal thoughts/tendencies, when it became clear to me that he didn’t need my help and was actually depleting my energy, I tried to get rid of him and that’s when he dropped the “I need you, help me cross over” face and actually showed how evil he was.

Some nights, when I felt his energy around me I would just squirt holy water I bought from a church in Nevada (lol) in the general direction that I felt him and hope it went away. Some nights I was genuinely terrified to go into my room, (I didn’t know he was attached to me at the time) and would drive around town until the sun came up.

He’s growled at me, at my sister, at our friends. He made us all feel so uncomfortable when we were home alone that I genuinely did not want to be alive anymore.

Trigger warning: unwanted, physical touches

Imagine what it would feel like if someone placed their hand an inch above your arm, or just place your hand over your other hand without touching them and glide the hovering hand up to your elbow. You can still feel it, the energy? One night, trying to lay down and go to bed, I felt that, starting at my ankles and by the time it reached just above my thigh I realized what was going on and muttered something about it not having permission to touch me, and to leave at once.

Ya girl still jumped the heck out of bed though and slept on the floor of her sisters room.

This is pretty long now, sorry, I just haven’t shared that story with practically anyone and saw the chance. There is soooo much more I could say but I’ll end it with this; I am not one to fear ghosts or the unknown and I recognize that communication between human and the average ghost can actually be really wholesome. I think of it as just two people talking with a veil between, but when you cross over into the evil stuff (demons, tricksters, etc.) that’s like meeting a serial killer on the internet and asking them to meet you alone in a dark alley. That shit is terrifying.

[athena1138]

So, literally half of our staff has quit this week, including one of our RAs who originally was going to wait until Friday to leave. She walked out today.

The already over-worked worker in me is: 

But there’s so much unveiling right now that the drama hoe in me is like: 

Rant/Tea below, this shit is wild.

Firstly, I was expecting her to stop taking midnight shifts because she said she gets anxious. Inopportune, but understandable. Nah, full blown walked out and quit today. Secondly, I was expecting her to get fired before she quit because she’s so fucking wishy washy. On Friday, she was just... 2 hours late. She texted my coworker but not our boss to tell him. This is after she’s been late... a lot. Like every other shift. She texted me on Sunday night to ask if I would take her midnight shift, but it was my first 3 day weekend in WEEKS so I just ignored it and told her I was drunk, idfc. 

So. Today. She said was going to quit to go work for a 1 on 1 caregiving service to come... back here? To sit with one of our residents? And this service is $2 less per hour and doesn’t pay for travel expenses. But because she walked out, she’s not allowed back in the building, so she can’t come do that, so the end of her shift she went down to sit with the resident and cry. This bitch has only been here for a month and the poor resident has been looped out of his fuckin mind recovering from hip surgery (and his dementia has only been under control for 1-2 weeks thanks to a new medication.) She don’t know him. But, she quit, so my coworker told our boss that she was still here, and he told her to call the fuckin cops because she’s not allowed on premises and I’m XD 

And she texted me while I was asleep to tell me she was quitting and wanted to know if I wanted to trade her for her day shifts “so I could have more time with my residents.” Like fuck you you condescending bitch, no. I don’t want your fucking pity. Well then I figured out that she’s nervous about one of our guys being back because he’s been in a facility with COVID confirmed. (He’s been tested and is negative, and he’s under quarantine for 2 weeks.) He’s also diabetic so I think she’s scared about his insulin. So, the real reason she wanted me to take her day shift was so she wouldn’t have to give him his medication. Get outta here with that shit. 

She went on break and then had to pee and then said she was gonna go smoke. She came back in REEKING of pot, and 2 of my residents smelled it and complained. 

Of course my coworkers and I (all except 1) have been texting and calling each other about this all all day because. Shit’s fucking insane. We’re already understaffed because there’s only 6 of us and this bitch had another job, 2 of us are on disability so our hours are limited, and 1 of the others has a kid. So now it’s 5, 2 on disability, 1 with a kid, so there’s only 2 of us who can work endless hours (not legally but wtf else are we gonna do.) But she had messaged our head RA and my friend to say, “Sorry I couldn’t be the next [RA.] It was so nice working with everyone, I wish you all the best.” Like no, nope, mm mm. You WISH you could’ve been the next [RA] because SHE’S a precious fucking person and so unbelievably hard working and dedicated and lovely and we would be nothing without her. Fuck outta here with your bullshit. We didn’t even need another [RA] we just needed an Idiot and a half and you couldn’t even muster that? 

OH! And that resident she’s so broken up over? Yeah, he had his hip surgery... a month ago? Month and a half? Point is, it’s fairly well healed by now. He’s on a narcotic to manage pain, but we’re worried it’s too much, so we’re toning it down. We started out being allowed to give it to him during the night to help him sleep and keep him from picking at the wound, but it was getting better so I told this girl, who at this point is the only other RA who does night shift, and I told her NOT to give him a narc. Just give him some Tylenol (they’re high strength but less than the narcs.) Nah, I came in the next night and she had given him an entire narc like an hour after I left. Never even tried the Tylenol. Well today, the resident’s assistant for the day paged 2 hours after he had his medication and said he was hurting and needed a pain pill. My coworker asked him, and he said that no, he was feeling perfectly fine. She asked again and he said, “No, I’m fine, babe.” But this bitch was halfway out the door to go get him a new pill. So, she’s gonna go work for this 1o1 caregiving service to do what? Come sit with this poor guy and keep him doped out of his fucking mind like all his other aids? No. No, fuck that. FUCK that. 

AND. AND. After ALLLLLLL this. I realized she never fucking paid me for the 4 extra masks she offered to pay my mom for making. 

Fucking bitch, man. Fuck her. Fuck her ragged, I absolutely cannot deal. Bitch who? Idk her. Good fucking riddance. 

I’m sitting here laughing my ass off over it because if I don’t laugh I’ll get angry again. 

Thank god I’m not my boss. I can’t even imagine how close he is to a nervous breakdown. 

[ssweeneys]

i’m having a REALLY bad day

or really past couple of weeks where work is concerned and i just wanna vent bc you know sometimes people out there in the working world understand ya know???

its long, beware. idek if i’ll keep this up its more so for me to just let it out.

so like i’m an office admin for a company (we’ll leave it nameless for protection purposes) and like i supervise receptionists for my office so i’m kinda an office manager but not technically? if that makes sense.

anyway. people these days just don’t want to fucking work like EVER and like to start jobs and then up and vanish to collect that unemployment which to me is really just dumb since there are rules to it in every state and nine times out of ten you’re making like 60% of what your normal paycheck would be and thats surely not enough to live on, so like ??? i don’t get it.

there’s been a constant rotation of receptionists come and go over the last couple of months and two girls who work for me have stepped in on numerous occasions. one lady is in her 60s and doesn’t know anything about computers and is kind of dense?? to say the least. nothing against old ladies. i actually find a majority of them cute or hilarious bc they say what they think and dont give a f*ck who it offends and sometimes that blunt honesty is refreshing and you just need it in a world where people bullshit you 24/7 to further themselves for selfish gain and yaddy yada

anyways.. over recent weeks she’s become more and more intolerable to deal with. i ask her to do things and she gives me attitude and its like the simplest of things.. like email this person, make sure you let this person know they got a package, etc, etc. she can’t do even the most basic of tasks without screwing up. her attitude is just atrocious.

and due to people coming and going i’ve had to alter our schedule a lot. recently, one girl requested off so i adjusted the older lady’s hours (lets call her--carla) mind you carla only works 1 day a week and i’ve been super generous in giving her the entire week of christmas off so -- yeah.

anyways the girl who requested off (we’ll call her nicole) told me she didnt need those days off anymore and so i fixed the schedule one more time to her original days/hours.

now, i print off the schedule every time a change is made and whoever is at the reception desk i tell them to let the other girls know and post it right by the computer they sit at every day so theres no excuse for anyone to say i didnt make them aware. well carla is not the brightest bulb as we already established and she doesnt pay attention so we pretty much have to coddle her apparently and make sure she understands (although its pointless bc she doesnt no matter how hard you try to explain something to her) ANYWAYS she comes in on nicoles day when she wasnt supposed to anymore bc the schedule was fixed, posted, etc. and she gets mad when i ask her why shes there. and yes, i understand that the rotation has fucked us all over and up in so many ways. she is not the only victim here. this has been stressing me out left and right and to no end for MONTHSSSSS. so like i get it? i’m sympathetic to that. i understand the confusion and frustration, i’m right there with them.

HOWEVER, because she’s annoyed/mad/whatever she gives me attitude all day yesterday and is flagrantly disrespectful. i’m her supervisor, regardless is someone upsets you, act professional.

but she doesn’t. we know that. or at least I DO. anyhow.. she’s mad. she’s pissed off right? she’s got an attitude. she sees the new schedule, she brings it to me in my office and asks if its the correct one for tomorrow WHICH SHE IS ON!!! let me make that clear. she was on. she asks if its correct, i’m in the middle of composing an email so i take a moment to respond ‘yes’ she huffs, storms off and goes “you know what? nevermind” i’m like.... okay?? i brush it off. i’ve been brushing off her poor attitude all damn day and i dont say A THING. BC I GET IT. I UNDERSTAND. IM SYMPATHETIC TO THAT. we all have bad days. we all get a little frustrated sometimes. we’re human, yeah?

yeah. right. ok.

so then like... carla is working the morning shift for nicole. both carla and nicole showed up. carla pitched a fit bc she came in and was already there and didnt want to go home so nicole was so sweet about it and said thats okay, she can work i understand. bc even though nicole is like half her age, she’s MATURE.

at this point i dont even understand why carla is so upset? she got to stay. she got the hours. she’ll be making the money. all is good right? WRONG.

when the next girl comes in for the afternoon shift, i over hear carla telling her about the mishap that happened that morning (yesterday) and my office is literally maybe 6-7 feet from the front desk so i can hear EVERYTHING that goes on. i mean this is my job. i’m pretty much in charge of making sure the office is running, our employees are happy, etc.

so yeah i over hear carla telling this girl that and i quote “yeah nicole came in this morning and the schedule was switched around and i stayed because i was already here. (then something unintelligible I cant make out bc her voice lowers) you know, it really pisses me off that this keeps happening.”

SHE SAID THIS. TO A NEW GIRL. MAKING ME, NICOLE, EVERYONE LOOK BAD EVEN THOUGH SHE GOT WHAT SHE WANTED, NICOLE APOLOGIZED, I APOLOGIZED FOR THE MISHAP, IVE DONE EVERYTHING FOR THIS LADY TO PACIFY HER OR WORK WITH HER OR COMPENSATE HER.

so its so infuriating, disrespectful and really downright disgusting for her to trash me, my name, etc to someone. but you know what? I DONT SAY ANYTHING. I dont cause a scene. I go about my business and let it roll off my shoulders bc at this point I know if I say anything its just going to turn ugly and I’m in a professional setting. Sometimes its better to bite your tongue, hold your head up high and move the fuck on about your business.

NOW... oh now, we’re on today. carla is scheduled to work. she came into my office, confirmed it, she was FULLY AWARE OF THIS.

so nicole calls her 5 mins before shes scheduled to clock in and is politely like hey you on your way? and carla is like oh no i don’t work today.

BITCH! THE FUcK YOU MEAN????? WE CONFIRMED THIS LITERALLY!!!!!!!!

omg i cannot at this point i really cannot

but lets proceed... so carla. she’s like yeah i dont come in, tells nicole to check with me. nicole comes to me, i smh and just sigh and am like ok i’m sorry can you please call her back and tell her shes supposed to be here and if theres any issues, transfer the call to me. so nicole calls her, they’re talking, carla is being a cunt (sorry at this point you are) and so i talk to her and shes like you know, this is so frustrating i came in there i asked you if i was supposed to work and you said no (the other girl she trash talked to idk who to name her) and IM LIKE SITTING THERE GOING ????? WHEN????? TO MYSELF BC WE JUST HAD THIS CONVERSATION

MY PATIENCE IS SO THIN, ITS NON EXISTENT AT THIS POINT IM OVER IT

IM TIRED

IM SO FUCKING TIRED AND SICK OF HAVING TO PICK UP THE SLACK AND DO EVERYTHING MY FUCKING SELF BC NO ONE CAN COME TO WORK, DO THEIR JOB AND GO HOME.

can i just make a point too that we make $12 an hour here. sometimes we are LITERALLY SO BORED we have nothing to do. we can read books or watch netflix if no one is around or i even have time to rp at times. so like THIS IS THE EASIEST JOB IN THE WORLD A FUCKING MONKEY could do it.

all you do is answer phones and transfer calls or send an email

its LITERALLY. THAT. FUCKING. SIMPLE????

so like i just dont get it

but back to the point... carla is arguing with me, basically saying my communication sucks, i’m unprofessional (which is laughable but ok) etc...

and i just cant hold it in anymore?? and i’m like well carla, i’m sorry you feel that way and i understand where you’re coming from but i don’t appreciate that you were disrespectful yesterday, you told (new girl) that you were pissed off about what happened and proceeded to talk about me in a really unsatisfactory way.

and she WANTED TO TRY AND SAY THAT THIS WAS A DEFAMATION TO HER CHARACTER. WHEN SHE FUCKING SAID IT!!!!!!!!!!! i mean you can’t but if you were to ask anyone i know i have freakishly good hearing and it gets on my family’s nerves all the time bc i need quiet when writing and i have to beg them to turn their tvs down low just so i can concentrate.

I FUcKIng HEARD THESE EXACT WORDS COME OUT OF HER MOUTH!!!! and she wants to sit here and say that i’m defaming her character.

NO BITCH. Im repeating what I fucking heard you say!!!

why would i make that up? why??? how does that benefit me in any way??? what does that do for me???? NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!! i’m not benefitting from anything here.

in addition when talking to her on the phone i bring up the fact that she brought the schedule to me (the correct one which SHE IS ON) and asked me to verify if it was correct. but then proceeds to say in the same breath (contradicting herself) that she’s going off the old one????? like okay????? but you’re wrong?? SHE EVEN SAYS ITS AN OVERSIGHT ON HER CHARACTER, SHE ALREADY MADE PLANS YADDY YADA, SHE CANT COME IN TODAY

moral of the story is... she’s dumb. she’s a fucking cunt. and i hate people who try to spin things and victim blame and tell you you’re defaming their character when you call them out on something real they actually said because they’re scared little pussies and can’t just admit its what they fucking said.

yo i’d have a lot more respect for you if you just admit it. i’m not even mad??? i dont give a fuck what you think or feel about me. when i leave here every day i dont come home and cry about work or how people feel about me there.

work me is different from real me. I. DO. NOT. FUCKING. CARE. work people do not know me on a real level only a professional one. i am here to do a job, to make money, to pay bills, to LIVE. i am not here to fret over the opinions of people who do not follow me home, who do not know the real me. WHO. DO. NOT. FUCKING. MATTER.

POINT FUCKING BLANK.

THANK YOU AND GOODBYE

like seriously?? GOD FUCK! i’m so angry.

if you read all of this, like thanks for letting me vent to a total stranger lmao you’re a real one, may you be blessed today and always.

onto that note... i gotta get back to work. (lmfao fucking irony at its finest)

[rivetgoth]

Okay, the verdict is out, I finally got to watch THREE FROM HELL after anticipating it for ages and I got some thoughtz.

First, some full disclosure, so y’all know where my biases are:

1. I genuinely adore House of 1000 Corpses and I consider The Devil’s Rejects one of my favorite movies of all time. In general I really adore a lot of Rob Zombie’s work — I also loved 31. That being said, he’s been hit or miss in the past and there’s some stuff of his I really detested too, but overall he’s not only impressed me but stood out as the creator of some of my absolutely favorite films. I wanna clarify this because I’ve seen a lot of people write up scathing reviews for this film that literally start with “I HATE ROB ZOMBIE’S MOVIES!!!!!” and that just seems like a really unfair way to approach a review specifically for a sequel. Idk what you’re expecting to get out of it.

2. Speaking of that, I love good horror sequels and some of my favorite movies of all time are specifically sequels. I fall in love with characters and concepts and I love seeing them expanded on in fun ways. I have no inherent negative feelings towards sequels at all.

I say all this to point out that I was genuinely looking forward to this movie without any unfair biases, it didn’t have to change my mind on anything larger than itself, like “convince me that Rob Zombie is a capable film director after all” or “convince me that sequels have artistic merit” or anything like that.

My overall thought, before I explain anything else, is pretty much that I feel like the first half of the film is extremely promising and fun, and the second half of the movie is so bad that I more or less wish I’d just turned it off halfway through and pretended that was the whole film. And, given the fact that so many of the developmental issues with the film that led to its shakiness came from Sid Haig’s declining health, I almost feel like this wasn’t a movie that had to be made at all — at least in this form.

I read one review that pretty much said that for Rob Zombie to revive this series he needed a damn good reason, and he never managed to make that reason clear. And I feel like that’s exactly what my overall takeaway was here. The ending of Devil’s Rejects is pretty much perfect. In order for that to be retconned and expanded upon, something really mind blowing had to happen. In general, even when you’re not taking the risk of retconning an ending of such epic proportions, if a sequel is made to something I want to see it do something new and uniquely memorable in its own right. Devil’s Rejects itself is a perfect example of this; one of the things I completely adore about it is the fact that it expanded upon the very classic retro slasher feel of 1000 Corpses to center the attention on the killers and recreate them as antiheroes with an entirely different tone. Similarly, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 stands out to me as one of the great horror sequels, partly in the way it so fearlessly completely shifts it’s tone away from the total frenzied isolation horror of TCM 1 and does something entirely different. Other series try less for “perspective/atmosphere shift” and more for “just go bigger” and that can work too — I think the increasing extremity of gore and complexity of the traps in the Saw series (which I love) is a good example, especially through the first three films which are by far the best as a coherent trilogy.

The WEIRD thing about Three From Hell is that Rob Zombie has clearly proven that he 1) understands the idea of sequels that build upon original films in unique new ways 2) has no qualms being increasingly and shamelessly extreme and shocking and horrific. But instead, I felt like Three From Hell is... jarringly tame, actually, compared to what we got from Rejects. And I mean, in some ways that’s fine, I didn’t necessarily miss the way-too-long graphic rape scene in Rejects, which is a miserable chore to get through in just how sickening it is. But there’s no moment where I felt that we get anything more extreme or intense than what’s seen in Rejects. It all feels like it’s been toned way down, which is bizarre to me. The victims aren’t people we’re sympathetic towards like the traveling musicians we meet in Rejects, and their deaths aren’t particularly gruesome - The majority of the deaths in this movie are “shot in the head” or “stabbed.” That’s it. The climax of the film is extremely similar to the opening shootout of Rejects, with significantly lower stakes and less memorable artistic direction, meaning that one film’s introductory scene is able to create a more intense moment than this one’s entire two hour duration.

The thing is, I feel like the first half of the movie really has potential. There are things I could nitpick — for example I love Richard Brake and I feel like Foxy is fun but flat — but the majority of my complaints would be things that, if the movie had a stronger second half, could easily have been further developed and solved. In fact, the first half of the movie feels like it’s gearing up to pretty much be exactly what I’d want out of a Rejects sequel. It’s weird and engaging and markedly different from its predecessors. It focuses on Otis, Spaulding, and Baby’s survival and arrest after the ending of Rejects, the subsequent trial, and then Otis’ escape and attempt to save Baby (after Spaulding is given the death penalty; more on that later). There’s a ton I love here, mostly Otis and Baby’s relationship being given more time in a really interesting way. The stakes are high and Otis clearly cares about his sister to a degree that feels like a fitting continuation of Rejects’ attempts at showing sympathetic or relatable aspects to these characters that makes them very three dimensional and complex. Bill Moseley is the fucking greatest and his ability to make Otis so completely depraved and unrestrained while also clearly caring about his family is one of my favorite things about the series and this played it up really well. You get the feeling that Otis is genuinely concerned for Baby, even after she’s freed, although it mostly comes out in yelling and deadpan snarking. Baby, meanwhile, gets the beginning of a completely fascinating character arc that included my favorite dialogue and scenes through the entire film as we’re shown that after a decade in prison she’s gone completely off the deep end. She rambles on about being Snow White and saving kittens and cries while hallucinating ballerinas with cat heads. By the time she’s free even Otis is expressing vocal concern for her. We get to meet the first half of the film’s main antagonist, Warden Virgil Harper, who was memorable and fun and felt right at home in the Rejects canon. We got the chance to see him developed into a character you almost start to feel sorry for; he’s cocky, but he clearly has no idea how in over his head he really is. On top of this, the scene when the clown shows up at Harper’s house while Otis and Foxy are torturing him and his friends and family is the best torture scene in the film in the complete absurd awfulness of the clown trying to put on a funny show while everyone is sobbing and a man is bleeding out.

At this point, the movie is going in a direction I totally dig. By the time Baby is finally free and able to reunite with Otis and he’s picking up on how fucked up she’s become, I’m genuinely excited to see how things will develop. It feels like Rob Zombie was setting up a film where we get to explore the siblings’ dynamic in a way that’s new and intriguing but developing from the things people loved in Rejects, which is that perfect blend of “utterly irredeemably despicable people” and “genuinely likable, oddly human characters.” Baby and Otis only really have each other at this point (Foxy is there, but even in the movie itself they allude to the fact that he really barely matters — a bit of a copout of a running gag, but whatever), and Baby actually voices this. It hit me at that moment how all of their family has died, and considering how much family has been a driving force for these characters, they were literally initially introduced in 1000 Corpses as the classic murder family and that’s all been taken from them, it’s genuinely sad. Spaulding’s death feels like it could be the final catalyst for... something to come from this, as that was Baby’s father and such a hugely important member of the Firefly family. We have Otis and Baby, alone (well, accompanied by Foxy) in the late 1980s (also a COMPLETELY not utilized detail), on the run as the country’s most wanted serial killers and trying to cope with the weird scenario of being merciless murderers who’ve had their entire family taken from them.

But we don’t get any of that in the second half. At all. Instead, we have Baby suggesting they all run away to Mexico. They do, winding up in a little hotel in the middle of nowhere full of prostitutes and alcohol. Baby wins a knife throwing contest against some big misogynistic guys. Then Danny Trejo’s character’s unmentioned son shows up (oh yeah; Danny Trejo was here for about 5 seconds, he died early on), has about 3 lines of dialogue, sends in 20 masked luchadors to kill Baby and Otis, they have an extremely long low stakes shootout, and with the help of the second half’s most interesting but still underdeveloped and shockingly unironically sympathetic character they burn Danny Trejo’s son alive and the movie ends. And that’s it. The characters regress even further backwards than their Rejects counterparts. They don’t really do... anything, actually. Otis fucks some women and then lays in bed flirting with them until the luchadors show up with their machine guns. My favorite moment was Otis’ attempts at saving Baby’s life by telling Aquarius (Danny Trejo’s character’s son) to let her go because he was the only one responsible for his father’s death, and they share a brief exchange about family. But that was one interesting moment amidst an extremely stale and low stakes plot separate from anything I care about after the intensity and high stakes present in the previous movie’s climax, and even this movie’s first half. A lot of things are recycled here, like the revenge plot driving the antagonist, but Sheriff Wydell’s descent into righteous insanity in Rejects was given way more time to develop, or a character betraying the Fireflys’ trust, but instead of the extremely memorably shocking, selfish betrayal from Charlie who was a longtime acquaintance clearly considered family (plus he actually attempts to “redeem” himself in the end), this is betrayal from a random hotel owner we do not know or care about. When the credits roll and we see Otis and Baby and Foxy driving away to... somewhere, I don’t even know where they’re going, I’m not even really sure what I’m supposed to feel. I chuckled a little at Baby being allowed to drive after an earlier argument where Otis asserted she shouldn’t, but that was it.

I hadn’t read anything about this movie before watching it, because I didn’t want anything to be spoiled for me. I was really excited for it! I learned that Sid Haig, who of course passed on only very recently (RIP), was dealing with very serious health issues that made him unable to film the movie, when originally the film had been written with the original infamous three - Otis, Baby, Spaulding - as the leads for the whole thing. Rob Zombie wanted to honor him with at least a cameo, knowing that the movie wouldn’t be the same without the Captain, but aside from a brief few minutes of screen time he had to rewrite the whole rest of the film with Spaulding removed. I feel like that’s where a majority of the problems with the movie lie. It’s why Foxy is as flat as he is and it’s why there’s an awkward uncertainty in how to deal with the loss of the Captain as the patriarch and why the whole idea of Otis and Baby’s aloneness is so awkwardly glossed over, like Mr. Zombie noticed the elephant in the room enough to address the turmoil but didn’t want to rewrite the entire movie from scratch to account for one of the most important characters in the franchise (maybe THE most important) being unexpectedly killed off.

Now, I LOVE some films that have been to developmental hell and back and came out as solid movies. In fact, there’s an extremely special place in my heart for films that fought tooth and nail to be made. It inspires me as a creator myself and it’s why indie low budget horror is my favorite genre of movie. I absolutely love seeing creators fight to bring their artistic visions to life against the odds. There are fantastic sequels out there where major actors either died or refused to/were unable to return and the stories were reworked or the actors replaced. I feel like something went wrong here. The moment he realized that Sid Haig would be unable to return, Rob Zombie should have set the whole thing aside and done a total rewrite. Right now, the knowledge of what was going on with Sid Haig behind the scenes makes the movie’s shortcomings go from “poor writing and storytelling decisions” to “genuinely extremely sad.”

One of the things I totally love about the writing of Devil’s Rejects is the way Rob Zombie inserts seemingly random moments that do nothing but add to the overall atmosphere and tone of his world. Random arguments, random character quirks, random shots of random things that simultaneously add a gritty “anything goes” realism as well as a surreal absurd humor. I’m also ALL for disjointed, nonlinear, or otherwise experimental and strange plots with a lot going on in them, I don’t think a big genre shift halfway through a movie is inherently bad. In the past, it’s been Rob Zombie’s fearlessness with experimenting with strange, often shameless storytelling decisions that have made his films so memorable and enjoyable and even inspiring to me. But in Three From Hell, there’s just a sense that everything feels kind of... disconnected and unfinished. It feels like two different movies were trying to be made and neither were fully developed. It just ends up sort of feeling like a kind of sad mess.

[mythiica]

Reader x Shingen Takeda - By Your Side

Title: By Your Side

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Shingen Takeda

Genre: angst, romance, fluff, fucking slow burn and im proud of it

Warnings: Minor spoilers

Intended Gender Audience: Female audience

Word Count: 3097 words (holy shit)

Shameless self promo: My dA has a lot more than my tumblr... I’m working on it

Other comments: Slight spoilers if you havent been up to chapter 5 of his route ; some of it is fictional and idk if it happens in his route, but i will specify that in the description ; don’t read if you dont want any spoilers 

Shingen reacted faster than you did, jumping in front of you at the last millisecond so that the arrow landed in his shoulder rather than in your heart. He crumbled before you nearly immediately, clutching the arrow by the hilt to pull it out.

You screamed and fell to your knees, trying to slap his hands away. “Stop it! If you take it out, it’ll bleed.”

He grunted and pushed you away once he saw the blood on your hands from trying to help. “It’s poisoned, if I don’t take it out, I’ll die slowly. Would you rather me die slowly and painfully, over the course of a month? Or quickly but with mercy?” With a guttural groan, the yanked the arrow out but immediately covered the wound with one of the piece of fabric dangling from his uniform.

“You’re already dying!” you scream at the top of your lungs.

His eyes flashed open, regret and sadness pooling in his charcoal eyes.

You ripped the sleeve of your kimono and wrapped it around his chest to stop the bleeding as much as possible. “Yukimura told me… you have pneumonia. And it’s killing you.” Gripping his arm, you helped im up slowly to get him on his horse.

“(Y/n)...”

“Don’t say anything. You’ll just kill yourself faster,” you scold him firmly. You’re very angry with Shingen, but above that, you just want him to be okay.

He gives you a flirtatious smile when your hand lands on his thigh after you help him onto the horse. “Wandering someplace when I’m partially immobilized? Not that I’m complaining… I just didn’t think you’d be so forward.”

“Shingen” you warn.

“Maybe I should have revealed of my sickness earlier… you’d have cared for me like you are now…”

When you shoot him a glare, he only laughs, but then clutches his side and begins coughing violently. He slumps forward with a moan, not able to sit up straight anymore. You kick off your slippers as you remove the outermost and thickest layer of your elaborate outfit.

Shingen watches you from the corner of his eye, struggling to find a witty comment to make about you removing your clothes. “Maybe save that for another night? I wouldn’t usually decline a beautiful goddess as yourself, but I’m in a bit of a-”

“Shut up already,” you scoff as you put your foot in the stirrup and swing your other leg. With one hand holding the reigns, you force Shingen’s semi-limp arms around your body so that he doesn’t fall off the horse on the way back to the castle. You don’t need to tell him to keep his hands above the equator, because he’s drifting in and out of consciousness with every passing moment.

The forest scenery whizzes past you, but you pull back sharply when you see a shadow to the right. You’re worried that it’s Nobunaga or someone else that would try to stop you. You weren’t exactly in the shape for fighting off a feudal warlord, especially with an injured one to protect as well.

“(Y/n)!” a familiar voice called. Yukimura appeared out of the trees, his clothes saturated with blood – hopefully not his. “I saw you flee with Lord Shingen!”

“How much farther to the castle?”

He turned around and motioned. “Not much, come on!”

You’re relieved to see the faint glow of the castle, and arrive only a few minutes later. As you dismount, a few vassals lift Shingen from the horse and rush him to a nearby room to tend to his wounds. He groans and shifts, making the bleeding suddenly worse as it soaked through the dirty layers of stained fabric. His arm fell limp as a soft breathe escaped his lips and his eyes closed.

He melted into unconsciousness and you found yourself crying for his safety. You took a step forward to follow them, but Sasuke held you back.

“Let me go! We can help him, we know things from the fu-”

But Sasuke covered your mouth with a hand. “If this is history repairing itself for the damage we have already done, then we cannot interfere or we might cease to exist,” he explains solemnly.

You choked back tears, not completely understanding how concerned you were about him. “H-He can’t die…”

Sasuke pulled you into a hug to calm you. “He’s strong. He’ll be alright…”

You sat at the door of Shingen’s room for probably an hour until Sasuke forced you to bathe and change your bloodied clothes. You only ate under the circumstances that someone tell you immediately when Shingen was stabilized.

Despite being very tired, you did not dare go to sleep.

After eating, you sat in front of Shingen’s room and waited for any news. Another two hours crawled by before Keshin slipped out. He nearly stepped on you, but then apologized immediately.

“Yukimura told me what happened… He protected you, and he’s there because of you now.”

You wiped your eyes and stood up. With all the conviction you could muster, you pointed an angry finger at Kenshin and scolded him. “I didn’t ask him to catch an arrow for me! But I did what I could and I immediately brought him back here so that he could get the medical attention he needed. I couldn’t bear to watch him die, so he is in there because of me! You were busy fulfilling your blood lust on the battlefield that you didn’t arrive until an hour ago. Don’t lecture me about Shingen, because I already feel guilty about it.”

Kenshin’s eyes widened at your words and felt bad about making you cry again. He pulled out a small cloth from the depths of his uniform and offered it to you.

“Don’t cry over Shingen. He might think that you’re in love with him…” He turned away to leave, but then called over his shoulder, “You can go in and stay with him. For now…”

You nearly ran into the wall, forgetting that a door separated you from Shingen. Inside though, you found wads of red towels, needles scattered over the mats, and fresh bandages.

Shingen was still unconscious, but his breathing was laboured and sweat glistened on his skin. You sit on your knees and take his hand in yours – Shingen’s breathing slows down, and he mumbles something you can’t hear.

The moon waned slowly, and before you knew it, morning arrived. You tended to him throughout the night, rewrapping his bandages for him when someone would come to check on him. The doctors were rather surprised by how nimble you were with your hands were.

As dawn’s light filtered through the doors, you curled up next to Shingen as he shivered from running a fever. He trembled uncontrollably, so you placed your hand over his broad chest, directly on his heart. It seemed to comfort him, as his breathing once again steadied to a normal beat.

A gentle sleep claimed you without protest, and you had awful nightmares of waking up to Shingen dead.

You shot up abruptly at one point, and after coming to your senses, you immediately checked on Shingen. He was right next to you, breathing shallowly like he had been a few hours ago.

It’s night again, which meant you had slept through an entire day without being disturbed. His hair was matted with sweat, but his eyebrows were relaxed and made him look younger in a way. You took a moment to admire the soft bend in his nose that contrasted from his sharp jawline. He looked so handsome, even if you tried to deny it.

“Shingen?” you asked softly.

He did not respond, meaning he was still unconscious, or really good at pretending to be asleep.

You tapped his arm gently. “Shingen?”

But he still did not reply.

A sigh escaped your lips as you settled your head back down in the crook of his arm.

But you don’t remember his arm being extended when you went to sleep. It was next to his body… had he moved it subconsciously because he got a cramp?

Shrugging it off, you closed your eyes and drifted back off to sleep, slightly comforted by the sound of his breathing and heartbeat.

When you woke up again, it’s not sudden. Your eyes fluttered open and immediately met Shingen’s half-lidded eyes. He wore his infamous smile, but did not say anything.

You spent a few minutes, just staring at each other.

You didn’t want to ruin the moment, and neither did he.

But you cleared your throat and scooted back from him a bit. Cold wrapped around you immediately, no longer close to his warm body.

“You’re awake… thank goodness…”

Shingen tried to sit up, but winces as he bent his body.

“S-Stop, you’ll break the stitches!” You sat up and placed a firm hand on his chest to keep him down.

“Princess…”

You gaze relocked with his.

“You saved me.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you with an arrow in your chest in the middle of a battlefield.”

He laughed, but it came out strained. “You very well could have. And you could have run back to Oda, or someone else from there. Why didn’t you?”

You struggled to reply. “I… uh…”

Shingen cupped his hand over yours as it still lingered on his chest.

Part of you wanted to continue to deny everything you feel for him, but a voice protested at that thought. How much longer could you resist him? You’d basically given yourself up when you took it upon yourself to stay by his side for two days after he was injured. Even if Shingen did not know that, it was only a matter of time, and it seemed like Kenshin and Yukimura already knew your feelings.

“(Y/n)?”

His voice made your heart melt, and tears prickled in your eyes. Gripping his shirt, you let your hair fall over your face to obscure the fact that you had again started to cry.

“I couldn’t lose you… I don’t know what type of Stockholm Syndrome voodoo you’ve done to me, but I can’t explain it… I just know that I couldn’t leave you there. I had to make sure you were okay…”

Shingen looked at you, confused by some of the terms you used, but his hand migrated up to your cheek as he tucked your hair behind your ears. “It makes me very happy to hear that, (Y/n).”

The tenderness in his voice was nothing like his flirty personality. This was genuine, as if you were the only person in the world with him.

You completely burst into tears. “But you didn’t tell me you were sick! Why do you push yourself?” you demand, wringing out the fabric in your clenched fist.

“I’m a warlord, we are defined by our territories and by our powe-”

“But what if you die?!”

You were leaning over his chest, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks and splattered onto him. He lifted his other hand to cup your face, and his thumbs gently stroked away the tears as they fell.

“Would be sad if I died?”

You open your eyes and freeze.

Yes.

Where is the will to voice it though?

You want to scream it, but something holds you back.

He sees you, troubled by this, and pulls your face down slightly, closer to his. “(Y/n)?”

The way he said your name – the sadness in his voice made the reality of the situation so much more clear to you. Even if you were from a different time, and even if he was destined to die, you couldn’t hold back anymore. It wasn’t fair to either of you at this point. Shingen had invested so much in you, and you in him.

“Y-Yes,” you confess. “If you died…”

Shingen waited eagerly for your words, his heart racing furiously.

“If you died,” you choked back more tears at the thought of it, “I’d never leave this room again… I’d never sew again, and I’d never smile again!”

“But you have a beautiful smile…”

You felt a grin tugging at your lips as you scoffed. “But you’ve never seen m-”

Even with a high fever from a poisonous arrow, immense blood loss, and with a terrible case of pneumonia pushing him closer to death, he still managed to trick you and win his age old bet. You had completely forgotten about it in the moment.

His smile returned and his hand reached the back of your neck. “There... it is…”

“I suppose that means you’ve won-”

“I suppose it does.”

You bit your lip slightly, but were taken aback by the next thing he says. “I only made that bet because I wanted to be the only person your shared your smile with.”

“What about the kiss?”

He shook his head. “I’m not a pervert. I would never force a goddess as yourself to kiss a broken and beaten human like myself. I’m not worth your lips.”

You released his shirt and place a hand on his jaw.

Shingen’s eyes lit up with hope. He meant what he said, but that didn’t mean you can’t find a loophole.

“I’m no goddess… You just say that to tease me.”

“You’re the most beautiful goddess, (Y/n). And you’ve saved me so many times without knowing it.”

His words pained you deeply, but also made your heart flutter. You leaned forward, until your face was only a few centimeters away from his. You felt his hot breath on your lips, as if he were continuing to tease you.

You tugged on his lip gently, closed your eyes, and let yourself kiss him.

The kiss was slow at first, the two of your savouring the moment before your hands tangled in his hair and you pulled him closer to you. Despite lacking much energy, Shingen matched the passion in the kiss, his arm snaking around your waist to grip on to you tightly to ensure that you wouldn’t disappear suddenly. His tongue pressed against your lips and pried your mouth open until it wrapped around your own tongue. You moaned into the kiss, the vibrations making him taste better somehow.

He sat back slightly to catch his breath – in the moment you completely forgot that he was sick. You wanted to continue kissing him; you wanted to kiss his beautifully sharp jaw, and that soft bend in his nose. You wanted to bless the sad bags under his eyes that take away from how handsome he is, and you wanted to kiss his hands that feels so perfect on your waist.

Shingen licked his lips, relishing in his victory silently before turning his head slightly to smile at you. “A kiss from a goddess… better than I could ever dream…”

His muscles relaxed slightly, but he still kept a protective hand on you.

You’re not worried about him, he’s just exhausted his energy because he’s still feverish. So you lie with him, cupping your hand over his chest like you had earlier. As he drifted off to sleep, you kissed his cheek and jaw gently for good luck in a way. You knew that everything would be alright.

The next morning, you woke up to Kenshin’s worried face. “For a minute, I thought that he might have given you his fever, but good thing you’re awake. Shingen’s doing better already, and as much as he didn’t want to leave you, I thought it was unfitting for him to continue to sleep drenched in sweat and blood.” “Where is he?”

“In the garden, waiting for you. I’ve brought a change of clothes as well, so you may go and see him.”

Kenshin seemed more relaxed, so you assumed that Shingen had said something.

As if he read your mind, Kenshin cleared his throat. “I heard some of your conversation last night.”

You immediately blushed.

“I apologize for being harsh on you. I can see now that your relationship with him is pure and makes him happy.”

“Thank you,” you said as you accepted the clothing.

“Best not keep him waiting though.”

As he left, you called out. “Is he going to be okay though? I doubt that he would tell me the truth if I asked him.”

Kenshin smiled. Genuinely. “He calls you a goddess… and there may be some truth to that because he’s doing quite well. The signs of the pneumonia are fading rapidly, and he seems to be breathing clearer than before he fell ill.”

With an elated heart you changed as quickly as you could so you could see him sooner. The kimono was beautiful – so you tied your hair up and pinned with an equally gorgeous clip before applying the slightest bit of rouge to your lips and cheeks.

Gathering your skirt in your hand, you ran out of the room and down the open corridors to the garden. You heard Shingen’s laugh before you turned the corner, and it only made you run faster.

He sat in a chair and conversated with Yukimura and Sasuke. With the beautiful scenery behind him, your heart swelled with happiness – to see him laughing and smiling so carelessly with his friends. There were two empty seats; one for you and one for Kenshin.

Shingen saw you from the corner of his eye and then turned to face you. He stands up slowly from his chair as you jump off the few steps and walk quickly towards him, not wanting to run and trip. His arms were stretched outwards, and you basically leaped onto him.

Just like Kenshin has said, he seemed like a changed person – no illness to hold him back. His strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground slightly.

Just like last night, you wanted to kiss him ridiculously, but decided to restrain yourself in presence of others.

Kenshin cleared his throat, and Shingen set you down gently. The three of you took your seats and began to eat the lavish food sprawled across the table.

Sasuke and Yukimura talked about what to do about Nobunaga and the others with Shingen inputting every so often. His hand fell under the table and caught your own hand before he locked his fingers with yours.

You didn’t know what the future would hold  – with Nobunaga or with returning home to your own time period.

All you knew was that everything would be alright, as long as Shingen was by your side.

[thedeviljudges]

How do you deal with getting up and going to work every day all day. I just started working full-time temporarily (a co-op position) and going from waking up at alternate times for mostly 4-6 hour shifts (part time retail) to consistently getting up at 6 and having to go in every day all day is fucking hard man... And I like my job and my co-workers. I can't wait for school again in May so I can skip when I wanna and sleep in longer some days / only have class for a few hours.

Same anon. Idk I just never felt like an 8-5 office job was meant for me but $$ is a thing so.. unless I find a partner that can support both of us or at least support me doing part time work or me staying at home with kids then I'm stuck and it's super depressing to think this is the rest of my life. My brother + his gf + 6mo old live with us and she would rather be working but I'm like u sleep when baby sleeps and play video games while he plays... Vs getting up and going out 5/7 mornings..

And I'm not trying to downplay the difficulty of being a stay at home parent or that it's not it's own job. Sometimes she looks like she hasn't slept in days and you can tell how frustrated she is but still manages to put on a happy baby voice and try to get the baby to smile etc. But it seems way more fulfilling to me. Idk I'm just the only person in my entire family (+extended) that has an issue with this whole 8-5 life. So like how the hell do you do it even when you like your goddamn job

okay first off, i am SO sorry i sat on this for so long. 1. i needed to process it bc this is a BIG MOOD and 2. i didn’t want to half ass a reply due to me being tired.

now, idk if you’re asking or just stating about getting up and going to work, but i’ll answer as if you’re asking. to say the least, it’s hard. it really is. i wanna cry in the mornings bc i just want to stay in and sleep. i also know that going in means sitting at a desk for 8+ hours while there’s so many others who are a) doing the same or b) living a life where they’re not doing this. it’s depressing knowing you’re wasting away at a desk while there’s sunlight, where there’s shit i could be enjoying. bc by the time i get off work (i should mention my commute is about 40 min to and from work bc ofc traffic), i don’t wanna do anything. i wanna go to bed. i can’t really write bc no energy, and it’s exhausting.

i’m not saying all this to make all of it more depressing but to relate and to say that you’re not alone in feeling this way. what gets me up and going to work every day is knowing i have bills to pay - i bought a car in july (bc of necessity. not bc i was trying to be ~fancy), and if i don’t make money somehow, i’ll be fucked as well as my family bc not only do i work, but i also have to provide a lot of my income to other ppl. sucks even more cuz like, guess who can’t always enjoy what they earn? lmao i hate poverty and capitalism.

thing is, i know that i’m lucky to have my job. i do have good co-workers and a good boss, but it’s the work and sitting inside for 40-45hrs a week that’s a fuckin joke. and again, the driving force is money. it’s always money, and i hate that that’s the case, but it is. i also feel like i’m not the kind of person who fits into an office job, but the thing is, i’m cynical and think it’s bs when ppl talk about going for their ~dream job bc some of us don’t have that luxury - we don’t have the same opportunities or fallback that some ppl have to pursue what we really wanna do, so here we are!! stuck doing shit we’re not that happy with.

and i feel the same about the stay at home situation to some degree - i think about finding a partner who’d have enough to live comfortably. i don’t want kids, but i see my sister who is a stay at home mom (and granted, they’re making ends meet themselves), but her job is...... not hard, lmao. i’m not saying it’s not tough sometimes, but kids have opportunities for naps and other activities that ppl in office jobs don’t get. y’all can go to the library or to a park any time of the day. it’s just different, and i tend to agree with you on that front. kinda sounds horrible, and i’m not knocking parents or moms by any means either, but having to fake smile and bs your way through an office job is..... wild, lmao. ask ppl in customer service as well, and i bet they might have a smidge of the same mentality having to deal with people on the daily. it’s exhausting af.

i think the way society is via work is quite outdated esp given the stagnant pay, so i don’t blame you for feeling down. i hate to say that it feels normal, but it really does, and it’s no wonder so many ppl are depressed and hate their life and themselves. just know you’re not along, and if you ever want/need to vent, please feel free!! i wanna cry a lot bc of my lack of creativity due to my job eating up all of my time and just trying to come to terms with the fact that it’s shitty, and i gotta manage it somehow is rough. i had mental health issues before, but i think it’s taken a downturn in the past 2-3 months.

like i said, i make it through my days due to money. it’s the driving factor now. it sucks to admit that and be that way, but it’s the truth. i wish i had more advice or more to offer than that. i wish there was a quick fix solution, but i hope it makes you feel better knowing you’re not along, and your thoughts are valid, babe. ;/

[rekant-a]

repost, don’t reblog.

FULL NAME.  jacqueline angela hall

NICKNAME.  jack! that’s it!

GENDER. ?!?!?!!??!?! not as cis as we (she) had originally thought. let her process she will comment later

HEIGHT.  5′

AGE.  twenty..something...at least 26...has to do the math

SPOKEN LANGUAGES.  english

physical characteristics

HAIR COLOR.  very dark brown

EYE COLOR.  light brown. warm

SKIN TONE.  pale as hell

BODY TYPE. lean and toned because she runs daily

VOICE.  always gentle and a little raspy, a little stutter now and then

DOMINANT HAND. right

POSTURE.  shes slouchin

SCARS. lots of lashes / hot-poker brandings on her back. i know he split her head open at some point and it almost killed her so maybe if you ever have reason to feel around her scalp you’ll notice but otherwise, there’s a big ugly scar there. maybe a few little scars on her legs from falling off bikes and or on her forehead from running into trees during childhood

TATTOOS.  absolutely not

BIRTHMARKS. lots of freckles, if they count

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).  shes tiny

childhood

PLACE OF BIRTH.  minnesota, somewhere

HOMETOWN. ^

SIBLINGS.  a younger sister, ramona @hellkitten. this is also the only place i get to mention tilly (her niece, mona’s kid) so im doing that, so that we all know

adult life

OCCUPATION.  waitress at a dingy little 24-hour diner. prefers the night shift

CURRENT RESIDENCE.  idk, wherever the rp scene takes place. probably fucking nyc

CLOSE FRIENDS.  bunny (but she’s not happy about it), trish walker @hellkitten, ari fogel @cowboynoir, joe @dustroads, im putting kate austen @hellkitten (again) here for my health

RELATIONSHIP STATUS.  verse dependent but usually dating butterfly @bonnmot

FINANCIAL STATUS.  scraping by. her parents pay half her rent

DRIVER’S LICENSE.  nope!

CRIMINAL RECORD.  she murdered someone

VICES. drinking, reckless and impulsive behaviour, violent outburts

sex and romance

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. lesbian

LIBIDO.  like, moderate, but it’s not something she’s ever acted on until recently and there has to be A Lot of trust involved, so. libido =/= tendency to sleep w people is what i’m getting at

TURN ONS.   i think it’s finally time that we acknowledged that jack’s into blondes

TURN OFFS.  not respecting boundaries (of which there are many), rudeness, abrasiveness, violence is a weird one because she’s into it if you’re doing it For A Good Reason (chaotic good king) but if there’s malice behind it she’s Outta there

LOVE LANGUAGE.  honesty/being forthcoming, sleeping in the same bed, hand holding, will read the books you like and watch the movies you recommend. she and trish are watching the entire sarah connor chronicles tv show in like 2 sittings 

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.  slow and steady with physical stuff by emotionally? easily swept off her feet

miscellaneous

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG.  idk man. head alone / julia jacklin has the right vibe

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.  runs frequently, does her best to sit still long enough to read, works a lot

LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. right

PHOBIAS. crowds, the dark, small rooms, being tied up (duh), cars with people she doesn’t know (esp on her own), any man

SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.   very low but stable enough because we don’t think about it

VULNERABILITIES. she’s very easily stressed just leave her be

Tagged by: @dustroads 

Tagging: @hellkitten obviously for mona or arliss, @familyglued for flynn or sam or george, literally anyone that wants to do this just take it it was neat

[blacknovelist]

K A T S U K I B A K U G O, for the ask thingy please! Thank you!

i love these letter headcanons so much, my dudes

(okay so like, honesty hour it’s been a Solid While since I’ve read BNHA and I haven’t caught up yet but here’s my hot takes as requested.

I think the last I solidly caught up was about, like, the cultural festival? So if something happened later to like, contradict with these, just disregard it and don’t let me know - I’ll catch up and see for myself eventually.)

K: how do you know when you’ve upset them?

See, the thing about Bakugo is - he’s a loud sort, and it’s easy to assume (so very, very, very easy) that he is so in everything he ever does. He screams and hisses and swears and shouts at so many things, it’s his defining trait. The thing is, it’s not his volume that tells you first, if you know what to look for.

Nah, it’s in the look on his face. The way the lines of his cheek n jaw shift and his hands twitch and for a moment he ain’t just glaring and frowning at you or the world but at himself, too. When he realizes he’s upset his first instinct is always to reach inward, somehow - whether bodily or mentally or both, it depends - and study it. Examine it. Look at it. Once he’s got it pinned, then, then he’s gotta look for an outlet - a means to further that understanding if you will. And sometimes maybe also he’ll look to lash out at someone he sees as responsible for his pain, if such a person exists. It’s just, his brain works so fast - Bakugo is a prodigy in his own right, brilliant beneath all that rage - that actually noticing that moment, not passing it off as a fidget or a twitch or anything else it isn’t, is already hard enough as it is.

See like, his shouting, it’s a defense, but it’s also just who he is (be loud, they’ll notice you, attention is good). It’s that half-step pause, when he’s knocked off balance and that unsure look crosses his face as he does, thats when you know.

And then he’ll blast your ears off one way or another, and if you didn’t notice he’ll usually get louder and start cussing you out and you kind of have to notice. Unless you’ve really really upset him - then he goes a little quieter (in the way a car horn is softer than a foghorn) and obliterates you with his words. Bakugo will always know the most efficient way to shut someone down using only his words, you just gotta coax him to it. And when he’s upset, well, no one wants to keep talking to someone who’s made them upset - ending the conversation by returning the favor is just a bonus.

(Of course, I’m registering “upset” as not including or being the same as “anger”, at least at it’s core (bc he’ll progress to being angry abt it eventually), because Bakugo being angry is something we’re all quite familiar with. And of course, this is assuming someone has found the right buttons to push to even make him upset, given the fact that I also believe he just doesn’t care enough to really let what others say get to him.

If anyone’s gonna make Bakugo genuinely upset, I’d bet more money on it being himself - thinking, dreaming, wondering, questioning everything he’s done and is doing and will someday do, probably - than anyone else. But were that not the case, well. Here we are.)

A: what are/were their best subjects in school?

Bakugo is a boy of many talents - you need the best grades to get into UA, after all. I think he probably did best in English, because All Might is known to speak English phrases from time to time. (This is related to the fact that Bakugo is the English teacher in Ageswap)

He likely also is good with chemistry, given his Quirk - he’s gotta understand reactions and gases and which ones are where generally, the interactions of substances and those gasses with his Quirk and also their reactions when exposed to heat/light/etc, what things he can use to fuel explosions or put out fires caused by it, so on.

T: Where are they ticklish?

I don’t particularly imagine Bakugo as a ticklish person? Partially because he wouldn’t let anyone close enough to tickle, but mostly because he just doesn’t strike me like that (and it’s not because I’m not ticklish, because I am unfortunately extremely so). If I had to give a place, I’d say it’s probably somewhere a little strange, like the soles of his feet or the back of his neck or something.

S: How stealthy are they?

At first glance, unbelievably so. Those who know Bakugo know better, of course, but nonetheless. Despite the boisterous and angry manner Bakugo holds himself he is, again, extremely smart. He knows when to be subtle, when to quiet down and, most important in this case, when to lay low and sneak.

I don’t think I’d put him as like, top sneaker of the class, but the boy knows how to creep when he needs to. On a scale where say, Hagakure was 10/10, I’d pin him a solid 6 or 7/10 when he’s actually trying.

U: What’s their voice like?

I’ve always imagined his voice as always having a sort of… edge to it. Not a gritty-sounding emo sort of edge but like,, like he’s always chomping at the bit to end a conversation, I guess. Also, he talks a little quickly when he’s not swearing specifically at someone - not so fast that he’s incomprehensible, but more like what he’s saying is obvious and he can’t understand why you don’t see it that way either. It’s not malicious or on purpose, it’s just how he is.

I: On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do they love themselves?

Mmm. As a kid, a solid 9 or 10 - back then he was too young, just a boy with the entire damn world at his fingertips. He never had reason to believe he was anything less than the absolute best, and that’s fine.

At the start of the series I’d say he, to others, looks like he’s always on the high end of the spectrum (7-10 out of 10), and I’d say back then he probably felt it too. Middle schoolers are the absolute worst, I have no trouble believing he has that much confidence in the beginning.

By the boot camp he’s still putting off solid 7-10 vibes (I think there’s never a time he isn’t putting on that air with the world so just assume he is pls) but I think - with all the hits his self-confidence, what with how different UA is to anything else he’s ever known - he’s sitting at closer to 5’s and 6’s. After Kamino? He drops below 5 and for every moment he thinks about it (about the fight, about All Might, about the hero career that almost ended and the one that actually did) it continues to go down. The thing being, of course, that he doesn’t act it, and a part of me imagines he stays in partial denial (“I feel like this but maybe I don’t”) until about the provisional license. (Though, I don’t think he drops lower than 3)

Idk, maybe it’s just been a while and I’m overthinking it but I get the vibes that Bakugo vaguely acknowledging Izuku in that moment in the exam? It was kinda the moment it clicked in his own brain, an understanding of what Izuku has been given based on what he knows, so to speak, and how different it is from him. I think that’s when he stops denying how low he thinks he’s sunk, which leads to him wanting to get answers, which leads to the fight. Which is such a good moment, holy shit.

I think it’s after that that Bakugo starts working towards building himself back up internally. Needing to take that additional thing to get his license was a blow, but he’s nothing if not determined - he’ll make that comeback, just you wait. He’s a solid and even 6-7 by the cultural festival, and holding strong.

(Again: I haven’t caught up with canon for a very long time, so if canon seems to contradict me or if you’re looking for a look at how he is now, sorry)

B: Do they have any allergies?

Nope. Everyone hates him come allergy season because he’s always cool as a cucumber and the same as he always is.

G: How do they flirt?

man, this is so far out of my jurisdiction

here’s some true facts kids: I don’t generally judge ships and if it’s in character i’ll read almost anything

but i’m also not a shipper, at all. Given the option, I’d sooner throw my entire being into the pit that is “platonic shit” than have to deal with an excess of it.

So like, I’m not here for romance, and I tend to rely on tropes when I am, but Bakugo lands in that hotspot of “would not fulfill those romance tropes on his own of his own volition”.

I guess if I had to say, I think he’d probably extend invitations to let the person he’s interacting with learn more about him in general - hobbies n habits n shit like that. That is to say, he’d absolutely invite someone hiking or to spar or whatever in an attempt to both learn abt the person (how do they react) and to let them learn about him. He’s always struck me as being kind of private, so like, such a leap would probably mean a lot.

That’s as much as I’m getting from this one mate

O: What would it take to break them, inside and out?

We’ve already caught a good damn glimpse of this - you know that breakdown he has with Izuku, when he’s blaming himself for being the end of All Might?

Bakugo thrives on hard work and being the best (or at least, striving for it), and that leaves a number of ways for him to break, it’s just that he’s incredibly resilient as a person so it’s hard to tell.

The frustration of trying his best and still ending a situation with the worst case - a la Kamino but worse - would absolutely destroy him. Can you imagine? Working hard and powering through and doing everything in your damn power to do the right thing, to save yourself so you can save others, to be a hero, only for it to be for literally nothing in the end? The specific scenario I’ve got in mind is a little more long-term; I believe that if something big happened like that and he came out thinking it ended well enough, only for a shoe the size of the USA to drop on his head and disrupt everything he’s worked towards? Rendering nearly all their work for nothing? Revealing that he and everyone else played right into the villains’ hands, essentially making this their own faults?

Well, something would break in just any anyone.

(Alternately, a realization that everything you do is meaningless and a constant reinforcement of “you’ll never be who you want to be” would also do a pretty damn good job)