#like I get that clone high has always been a show that pokes fun at current topics but idk

[fictional-men-enthusiast]

They threw Abe under that bus so hard that he just exploded the second he hit the asphalt.

[showtoonzfan]

—⚠️SPOILERS FOR THE LEAKED CLONE HIGH EPISODE!!! ⚠️—

Okay time to rant about the Clone high episode but in a way some of y’all aren’t expecting. This is just me but some people are painting the leaked new episode of Clone High to be WAAAY worse than it actually is. Like…good god some of y’all are overreacting, I’ve even seen people compare it to freaking Velma like GOD no. While I personally enjoyed the episode, I can see why people may not like it. A lot of people are bummed about Ghandi, the cancel culture stuff, and maybe the comedy, though for the comedy it’s mostly a hit or miss, but for me it was a hit. As for the Cancel culture stuff, it didn’t piss me off like a lot of people are because I honestly expected this. Clone high has always been known to poke fun at whatever was going on in the world at the time, so like…yeah of course they’d do an episode regarding that, and I personally liked the idea of a fish out of water concept since the clones have been frozen for 20 years. Some people were saying that Abe felt out of character and OOC, but honestly? Abe’s character has always been that he’s a stubborn loser who constantly gets into trouble, so him getting cancelled and fucking up everything he’s saying felt in character for me, it was one of the reasons I liked it so much because everyone felt in character, even if you could argue it wasn’t as good. I will say that Abe saying slurs felt incredibly forced to fit the plot, but he’s still a loser like he was in the original so I can’t be mad about it yet. I certainly wouldn’t call the episode perfect, but I overall enjoyed it.

The only two issues I had was Joan and JFK. These personal issues was more of a nitpick, but I was expecting…I dunno, more out them? Don’t get me wrong, I was a huge shipper of the two and I’m happy they’re together, but at the same time I find it weird that they’re both….okay with being a couple. I was surprised that Joan was 100% on board, I’d predicted that she would act like the night they spent together was a “one time thing” and that she needed to figure things out. The beginning of the episode even hints at the drama, but there was really no drama around the love triangle at all, aside from Abe moping. It just…felt like kind of a let down, but I think that’s just me because I was expecting more or something really big to kick off immediately. Joan as a whole however in this episode felt …..off to me, but I can’t really explain it. She just felt….off, like kinda out of character? I dunno I was expecting her to be against the popular kids since her character in the show was more being on “the good side” of things, like I would think she would go “I don’t need to be popular”- but she wasn’t bad or anything. I was always expecting her to be annoyed by JFK’s entire vulgar personality but she seemed to have no mind. As for JFK himself, I was surprised he wanted Joan to be his girlfriend, since he was known for being the ultimate fuck boy, going from one woman to the next. I had really hoped that their relationship would be more of a slow burn, rather than them getting together immediately in the very first episode, since JFK still has a lot to learn about relationships. The scene they shared outside of the prom to me opened a new door for a good character arc and relationship exploration, it was the scene that made me ship them, because there was so much potential for them to become a really good couple, so now that they just start off immediately being one, it felt VERY underwhelming to me. However, this is still the first episode, so for now I’ll wait to see what the writers do with these two. I could care less about Abe moping because all my homies hate Abe, but not in a bad way per say, to me, he’s enjoyable to watch, but we acknowledge that he’s a loser lol.

Meanwhile, Scudworth is the same, he’s hilarious as always and I get a kick out of watching him, and introducing a female boss who he has fallen in love with solely because she’s trying to kill him is funny to me. I have no idea if she’ll legitimately be a love interest or not, again we’ll have to see, but I will say that these new board of shadowy figures ain’t it. I miss the old iconic guys, particularly the main one with the soothing voice because he was iconic and funny. I guess it makes sense on why Scudworth didn’t unfreeze them since they had planned to kill him and take the clones away, but I do miss them and it kinda is a downgrade. Then there’s Ghandi, who we all miss but for the people demanding that he be brought back and that the show isn’t the same without him, y’all need to chill because I highly doubt this is in the creators control. I’m pretty sure if it was, Ghandi would be in the show, but they were kinda forced to take him out due to the controversy, so despite me missing him, I can see why it had to be done, and I don’t blame the show itself. As for the new clones and characters, I’ll have to get used to them and warm up to them, but I certainly wouldn’t call any of them “bad”. Again, this is merely the first episode, and unlike the majority of people on twitter right now, I want to give the show a chance and see how this all plays out until I say it’s “god awful” or act like it’s the worst thing in the world. I will say this however, to the people complaining about the gore and even the comedy style, do y’all know what show you’re watching? Like…this is Clone HIGH lol, I expected most of this to happen since I saw the original show, so I will be honest and say I don’t 100% know why everyone is so pressed about it. I get that people are maybe bummed about the whole “cancel culture” thing since nobody likes that, so I can see why but like I said, this is what Clone High is known for so I wasn’t taken aback.

With all that said, I’m 100% confident about the show and have high positive hopes for it. To me, the show hasn’t changed at all, the spirit of the original is still there, the characters for the most part still feel the same, and so does the humor. I think it’s way too early (LITERALLY since this got leaked) to say that the show shouldn’t have been rebooted or the show in general isn’t good and will be a lost cause. For now I think we’re off to a pretty okay start, and I’ll have to see more in the future to see where things go before I can say my full opinions on wether I think it’s good or not. Keep in mind these are all MY personal opinions on the show so far. Fill free to disagree with me. We all need to keep in mind that there’s always room for improvement however, because I will admit that I think it’s unfair that a lot of people are already saying the show is going to suck. We have no idea yet and we’ll just have to wait and see. Thank you for reading, and I personally can’t wait to see more Clone High!

[syn0vial]

Hello Wise One! I was actually hoping if you can give me some solid personality pointers on Jango, rather than Boba, Fett?

sure thing! full disclosure that my knowledge of jango is not as extensive as my knowledge of boba, but i’ll do my best with what i have! here are some personality traits of jango’s i’ve observed:

paranoid/protective: this is a big one if you ask me. jango endured a life of betrayal and loss before he became a bounty hunter and it shows. besides boba, he doesn’t trust anyone fully, not even those closest to him and is always ready to cut ties at the drop of a hat—lethally, if necessary. his mistrust of the rest of the galaxy is so potent that when he takes boba on missions to populated areas, he instructs him to hide even from normal foot traffic and becomes anxious when he learns that others may have spotted him. it becomes pretty evident that part of the reason boba was so isolated growing up was that jango didn’t trust the vast majority of the galaxy enough to let them near the kid. and when other bounty hunters find out about him? ho boy. jango actually convinces them that he killed boba using a cloned child’s body, bc he’d rather be known as the worst kind of monster rather than make boba a target. there’s also the fact that, after their apartment on kamino gets found out by obi-wan, jango is packed and ready to leave in minutes. not only is he ready to bug out at the first sign of danger, but he’s well-prepared to do so at a moment’s notice.

a loving father: another big one. for those who look at a man as battle-hardened and stoic as jango fett and wonder whether boba got enough affection as a kid, worry not: in the vast majority of depictions, jango is a very loving father, especially when he’s out of the prying eyes of clients and colleagues. he hugs boba, tells him he loves him, joins him in playing with toy starfighters, and tries to make time for him as much as he can. he even does his dadly duty of going fishing with his son (though he and boba practice spearfishing rather than using a rod and tackle). there’s also a wistful little scene where, trying to help boba feel better after zam’s death, he takes him to kamino’s main spaceport and lets him infodump about all the ships he sees there :,) so overall, he has a lot of good qualities as a dad

controlling: and the other side of the coin! while jango is a genuinely loving father, he’s not at all the type to encourage his son’s independent development. self-sufficiency? sure. interests in anything other than the path jango has laid out for him? not really. he actively discourages boba from learning about “unimportant” topics from books, an apparently very broad category given it includes things such as schools, moms, and other children. he drills into boba’s head that he’s going to be a bounty hunter and that he needs to abide by a code with such healthy guidelines like, “don’t have friends or attachments” and “trust no one but use everyone.” boba, of course, goes with it bc he loves his father and wants to live up to his expectations, but he never really gets a choice in the matter. honestly, i think this side of jango is best summed up by him leaving a post-humous note for boba that says, among other things, “i am more than a parent to you.” it kind of goes along with how, after jango’s death, boba continued to think of his father not just with love and grief, but also an almost religious dread of failing his expectations. jango undoubtedly loved his son but he also seems to have defined a very narrow path for him to walk, without room for deviation.

possesses an actual charisma score: okay, now for a more fun one: jango has a charisma score and he apparently makes a habit of using it, to the point where his old friend rozatta pokes fun at him for it (he compliments her and she’s like “oh, you’re flattering me? must mean you want something!”) he also pulls the same thing on zam, calling her charming to get her to agree to help him break into a target’s stronghold. so yeah, jango fett turning up the charm to get people to help him/give him info? 100% canon, baby

very fun friendship with zam wesell: look, this isn’t a personality trait, but it’s important to me. these two are just so fucking funny together. like, on the surface, it’s just a fun dynamic of zam making flirty banter and jokes while jango pretends to be annoyed and drag her, much to her delight. but then on a professional level, you have these two ammoral assholes bouncing wildly between being one another’s Sexy Rival and being one another’s Unhinged Partner but whoops, jango went and had a kid, so now they’re Unhinged But Mostly Responsible Co-Parents. one of my favorite scenes is when, in an attempt to intimidate a prisoner into talking, zam impersonates a politician and lets jango pretend to “kill” her in front of him. for some reason, even after they’re done, jango continues to bridal carry zam’s “body” into the cockpit of slave I, at which point, she perks up, bats her eyelashes at him, and goes, “you’d never really kill me would you, jango?” jango quite honestly replies, “only if i had to.” there’s a beat and then zam’s like, “....you’re so sweet! 😘” honestly, they’re so stupid, i love them

ascetic: much like his son, jango doesn’t seem to have much interest in luxury or “the finer things.” despite having enough money to live very comfortably, his apartment on kamino is described as “spartan” in design and furnishing. this may have something to do with the first bullet point, given that a simple life is easier to pack up and take with you at a moment’s notice, but i do think there’s some amount of preference in this lifestyle, given it’s what both fetts seem most comfortable with in all circumstances.

traumatized: i mean, he’s a fett, ain’t he? particularly, just like boba after him, jango is traumatized by the loss of his family, especially his own father figure, jaster mereel. much like boba, jango seems haunted by the need to live up to jaster’s name and legacy. for background, jaster was betrayed and killed in an ambush by the leader of deathwatch, after which he passed on the title of mand’alor to jango. however, some time after this, the true mandalorians led by jango were wiped out by a combination of death watch and the jedi, with jango himself being stripped of his armor and sold as a slave. after this point, jango does not seem to see himself as worthy of jaster’s legacy and thus attempts to pass it on to his son, resulting in the high and narrow expectations he sets for boba as mentioned in bullet point #3. boba himself concludes as much as an adult. on top of the trauma of losing his family, jango also seems to have been traumatized by his time as a slave. most notably, when he’s being tortured after being captured by target komari vosa, he at first remains fairly stoic, even as she starts to mutilate his face. it isn’t until she mentions enslaving him that he seems to panic, struggling desperately to get away. vosa even laughs and says that she must have touched a nerve with her comment. basically: fetts be traumatized :(

soft spot for (some) kids: another thing that’s interesting about jango is that he... usually attempts to do right when kids are involved. i say “usually” bc fat lot of good it did all the cloned children he had a hand in creating >:( but, for example, after killing a runaway clonetrooper as part of a bounty, he finds out that the clone had a son. unwilling to let the child live in poverty due to his own actions, he has regular payments sent to the boy’s mother to help support him. in another instance, jango and zam help deliver an artifact to a client who intends to use it to carry out a terrorist attack on coruscant against millions of civilians. when zam finds out about the client’s intentions, she’s horrified and goes to jango demanding they steal the artifact back. jango completely brushes her off at first, telling her it’s not his problem and that he needs to spend more time with his son. zam coldly asks him how many “sons” he thinks live on coruscant. needless to say, her argument convinces him to join her in stopping the terrorist plot :,)

aaand that’s all i got at the moment! i hope it helps to characterize jango a little bit more!

[ohpretty-baby]

my babysitter’s a quarterback • jjk

⇥ pairing: qb!jungkook x cheerleader!reader

⇥ side pairing: namseok

⇥ synopsis: after getting cheated on by the star of the hockey team, park jimin, your life (as expected) goes downhill. what you don’t expect is your parents being skeptical of whether or not you’re a good older sibling for your sister. you also don’t expect them to call jeon jungkook—the person you hate most—to babysit the two of you.

or, alternatively: jungkook babysits you even though the two of you are the same age.

⇥ genre: fluff, crackfic, angst, e2l, jungkook is stupid, jimin’s an asshole, hoseok’s a sweetie, namjoon is also a sweetie, reader is Stressed, pining, mutual pining

⇥ warnings: cursing, crude humor, mentions of cheating, divorce

⇥ word count: 30.0k

based off a request for @fan-ati--c​ (i hope you like it dear!)

a/n: hi everyone!!! this is my first ever lengthy fic, so pls have mercy on me. i had a lotta fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy!!!! much much much much MUCH love <333 (feel free to give feedback and your opinions!)

“Y/N, what has gotten into you?” Your mom gently places the tip of her fork on her plate, folding her hands together. Her words are stern, but she doesn’t raise her voice in order to save face. The air at the dinner table is dense and heavy on you, and the fact that your father and your little sister, Clementine, seem to have their eyes glued on you doesn’t help either. Clementine sniffles and the sound makes your blood boil.

You sigh, looking up from your phone to shoot a glare to your mother. You also send a glance of distaste towards your sister, which allows you to get a quick sight of her puffy eyes and runny nose. The prongs of your fork are poking your lips while you lazily chew the spaghetti stuffed in your mouth. Shrugging, you place your phone and the fork down, folding your hands in order to mirror your mom seated in front of you.

You stay silent, lips pressed tightly into a thin line, because you know she has more to say.

“Darling, you’re being extremely immature,” Your mom always had to give it to you straight, “You know that Clementine didn’t mean to upset you.”

As always, your mother is articulate and sharp when she speaks. Not once does she stutter, and after being her daughter for 17 years, you’re not entirely sure if she’s ever stumbled on her words before in her entire life. It’s indicative of her personality: intelligent, quick-witted, skilled, yet unbelievably blunt. From the way her patients praise her for constantly being compassionate and kind, you often wonder if your mom really is a psychiatrist or if she’s hired a clone to work in her stead.

It’s not that you hated your mom. You loved her dearly, as you did with the rest of your family. The reason why you seemed to always butt heads with her, though, is simply because you have a little too much in common with her (personality-wise). Your dad’s always said that you were a carbon copy of your mother, after all.

“All I’m asking is that Clem asks me if she can use my makeup,” You cough, a few bits of the noodles going down the wrong pipe, “You, of all people, mom, know how expensive lipstick can be. I need that for football games.”

It’s not a clear statistic, but it is a pretty solid fact. You always use facts in order to back up your arguments, just so that your parents can’t say anything in response. Sometimes it works. You’re still waiting for the day when you have something impactful to use.

“Well, you know that when she sees you getting all pretty,” She taps her fingers on the wooden table, “She wants to do the same, and as the-“

“As the older sister, I have to share,” You roll your eyes, and you shift your focus on Clementine, “Sorry, ok? I won’t get so mad next time.”

“Clementine, what do you say?”

“It’s ok,” She sniffles, wiping her eyes.

“No, dear. What do you say?”

“I forgive you, Y/N.”

You bite back the sarcastic comments you’re dying to say, opting to stuff your mouth with spaghetti instead. The rest of your family starts eating as well, and you keep your head low to avoid making eye contact with your sister. You love her with almost every bone in your body, but right now, you can’t tell if you want to throw your food at her or slap her with your ceramic plate.

Today, she took it upon herself to go through your makeup bag and steal one of your (again, highly expensive) lipsticks so she could slice it with a butterknife purely out of boredom. This all happened while you were taking a bath, and when you got into your room, you saw her sitting at your desk, lipstick chunks spread all over one of your old math notebooks. So of course, you yelled at her.

Then she cried. Then your mom made you apologize because you were upset that she wrongfully went through your stuff without permission. But that’s really how things have always been, ever since you were 5 years old and Clementine was just born. You’ve grown up constantly taking the blame for Clementine’s wrongdoings. It’s just how things work in your household, because your parents genuinely believe that she could do no wrong.

Apparently, being 12 gave you lots of perks.

“Y/N?” Your mother’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, “Y/N, listen to me when I speak to you.”

“Sorry, what’d you say?” You don’t care about matching your mom’s formality anymore, your cheek puffed up with more food.

“I was asking you how your day was.”

“Oh, just wonderful. Fantastic. Dandy,” You snap back, not really aware of what you’re saying as your words fly out of your mouth.

“What’s with your attitude, young lady?” She scoffs, then pauses a bit before speaking again, “Listen, I know that it’s tough, having to see Jimin-“

You slam your hands on the table, standing up. Your chair screeches awkwardly against the wood flooring of the dining room. Swallowing down the rest of your food, you try to soothe the hard lump forming in your throat.

“Do not try to analyze me. I’m not one of your patients. There’s nothing you need to fix about me, got it?” You raise your voice, staring her dead in the eye, “I just had a shit week and I very much do not need you to try and pinpoint whatever’s going on in my head.”

Your mother gasps, and only now does your dad decide to speak.

“Young lady, go to your room right now,” His words fall flat, and you scoff at him.

Your parents were complete opposites. If your mother was over analytical, your father could never read the room. Not because he was dumb, per say, but because he was always in his own little world. He always responded a little too late, felt things a second after they should be felt. That’s just how your dad thinks. He doesn’t mean to be mentally absent when all of you were at home, but he’s always been preoccupied with his work. That’s a big thing you’ve admired about your dad, how easily he can focus on one thing and ignore the rest. It’s one of the main reasons why he was so successful as an architect. Growing up, you would stay up past your bedtime just so you could be with him in his office. You’d watch how he could just sit down and create a multitude of building designs without getting distracted.

By the way he looks at you with a flash of guilt in his eyes, you can tell that he’s the only one that gets your reasoning. You can also tell that he knows how wrong it is for your mom to bring up your ex-boyfriend during dinner.

But because he wants to uphold his “authoritative” figure, he needs to “put his foot down”.

“I was planning on it anyway, thanks,” You grumble, storming off.

Once you reach your room, you slam the door—purely for dramatic effect. You throw yourself on the bed, getting out your phone and doing the first thing that pops into your head. You call Hoseok and he answers right away. A smile flashes on your face as you feel some relief from your anger.

“Hello?”

Jung Hoseok has been your best friend ever since you first stepped into your hellhole of a high school building. He was your saving grace. The only thing that kept you sane.

When you joined the Monarchs, the cheerleading squad of your school, Hoseok was the only person who talked to you during practice, even if he was a year older than you. An infamous characteristic of his is his big smile. His lips always resembled a widened heart, and he showed off his pearly whites wherever he went, exuding happiness that was extremely contagious. And if his smile was big, his heart was even bigger.

You know this because Hoseok immediately asks you “Is everything okay?” when he hears your shaky breath over the line.

You explain to him what had happened seconds prior to this phone call. Then your conversation spirals into you ranting about how your parents have been telling you that you’ve been a terrible sibling. It’s something insulting to hear, knowing that they’ve always made you take the blame for everything your sister does. It hurts even more that they can’t acknowledge the fact that getting through a breakup is hard for a 17 year old girl. They couldn’t even cut you some slack.

A pang of guilt hits you when you relay everything you’ve said to your sister over to Hoseok. Maybe you were somewhat in the wrong here. But could you blame yourself? You were going through a hard time, and it’s not unusual for someone who’s stressed to act out. Not to mention when the stressor is heartbreak.

During the beginning of September, you found Park Jimin, your past boyfriend of one year, and some other Sophomore on the cheer team making out in his car afterschool. It was now the end of October, but the memory haunts you in your every waking moment. The image of another girl pressed up on him, her skirt hiked up high enough so that you could see her spandex, flashes in your mind. In your head, you see Jimin running her hands all over the girl’s skin, purple splotches blooming on her neck and on his.

You shut your eyes, rubbing them violently as you try to ignore the painful truth: If you hadn’t decided to surprise him with some brownies you made for him that day, they would’ve done a lot more than just making out.

The notion makes tears prick your eyes, the familiar sting returning. You had been crying almost every night. Everytime you close your eyes, the same image of him and that girl appears and you can’t get rid of it at all.

You’re about to break down again, and Hoseok talks you through it. He allows you to vent, to let everything out, and he promises that the two of you will hang out after tomorrow’s practice. It gives you relief, something to look forward to at the end of the next school day. Tomorrow was Friday after all, and like you said before to your mom, your week was shit.

There had to be at least one good thing you could have this week.

That statement is short lived, however, because instead of sitting with Hoseok at your favorite diner with a strawberry milkshake in front of you, you’re sitting at your dinner table yet again, poking at pizza with a plastic fork. You stare at the grease stains on your paper plate in disgust, as the dining room is so silent you can practically hear the small ticks of the red second hand of the clock on the wall. 

What a great way to start the weekend. Friendless, boyfriend-less, and miserable. You look up from the greasy mess before you to shoot a glare to the person in front of you.

“Why the hell are you here?” are your first words to the boy.

“Your parents called me?” He responds, mimicking your questioning tone. You scoff at him.

Jeon Jungkook. The cocky, annoying as fuck quarterback on the football team who coincidentally sits behind you in Pre-Calc everyday is now sitting across from you at your dinner table. The boy who breaks off pieces of eraser chunks and throws them at your head just to annoy you while the teacher is giving a lesson. The kid who kicks your chair at least five times every single day just because he has fun getting a rise out of you.

You don’t know how exactly your hatred for him began, but it definitely started when you first became a cheerleader.

Popularity was never something that came easily to you. Many people don’t remember, but in Freshman year, the only time your class knew of you was when your name was called for attendance. You didn’t play any sports, nor did you participate in theatre or had any musical talents whatsoever. You were simply just, there.

This all changed when your mom suggested cheerleading. You did have a few years of solid gymnastic experience and you really had nothing better to do, so you decided to take the opportunity to sign up for tryouts.

It was hard, and you slipped up a lot of times, but the coaches saw potential in you. They told you that you’ve really got drive, and they praised you for continuing to get up and perfectly following directions when they asked you to execute an especially hard move. Eventually, you were accepted and once you had more time to practice, you had gotten the hang of cheerleading quite quickly. You ended up falling in love with the sport, working hard both on and off the field. You always got constant praise for your willingness to learn new things.

And with your new success on the team, you gained a reputation for yourself.

When, exactly, did Jungkook join the picture?

You’re not sure. He kind of forced himself in.

One day, you weren’t at your usual best. The sun was beating down on you harshly, which didn’t make things any better. The football team had been practicing with you guys, and it was obvious that many of the boys were ogling at the cheerleaders. They would nudge each, looking suggestively at the girls while whispering crude comments about them.

Jungkook, being the youngest and most energetic one on the team, had other ideas in mind. You see, he lived quite loudly and he was… Eccentric, to say the least.

His eyes were focused on the cheerleaders, pinpointing at anything that would be of use to him. He peered around intently, looking for any mess ups or mistakes that they had made. He would have made fun of anyone, really. Jungkook didn’t know much about the girls on the squad, so he really had no problem using their flaws to his benefits. He wanted to make his own team laugh, and that in itself was justification enough for Jungkook.

It was just unfortunate that you were his target.

Once he saw you topple over on the ground, he was ready.

“Hey, thunder thighs! Be careful out there!”

After that, you heard nothing but boisterous laughter from the football players. It was an immature insult, one ridiculous enough to enrage you. You wished you could’ve ran over to the other side of the field and just punched him the gut, right then and there. But his own coach and grabbed him by the ear, dragging him towards you so he could apologize.

It was a lame apology, and you could tell that he was trying everything in his absolute power to bite back the laugh he was holding in. You would've said something about it, but since Jungkook was more built than you and there were authorities present, you reluctantly accepted the apology, choosing to go on with your practice instead of letting it get to you.

And after that day, Jungkook has made it his goal to torment you whenever he sees you. Since he sits behind you in Pre-Calc now, that’s become his job every day.

Jungkook was taller than Jimin. He was a pretty attractive football player, too. You would give him at least that. But he was meaner than Jimin. A bigger asshole than Jimin. More annoying than Jimin could ever be.

Literally any good quality that you thought you could find in a guy, Jeon Jungkook did not possess it. Any kindness, sympathy, or even general decency in his heart was nowhere to be found.

He had messy brown hair, a smug grin on his face that you’d love to punch, and a lean body that you wish had gone cripple. Confidence wasn’t something that he had a lack of. In fact, Jungkook’s cup overfloweth with so much confidence to the point where describing him as merely confident would be a misdeed.

Narcissistic was the word. He was extremely narcissistic and obsessed with himself, which was indicative of the daily gym snaps he’d post on his Snapchat story. He was everything that disgusted you about guys combined and turned human.

Jungkook’s very presence could set you off, and you know that he lives off of that.

This is no different from your Friday night, as he’s gnawing on pizza right in your own damn house. He’s scrolling through his phone and you’re staring at him in disgust, while Clementine has already eaten and is now sitting on the couch, curled up with some sci-fi book she got from the store last week. Taking in his appearance, you inwardly cringe when you notice him lick the oil that has found itself on his fingers.

“There’s a napkin right next to you.”

“That would be a waste of paper,” Jungkook responds, licking away the last remnant of oil and marinara sauce on his thumb, “Gotta be eco-friendly, y’know?”

He wiggles his fingers at you, his infamous shit-eating grin appearing yet again. You hate the way his mouth tugs up to the right a little bit, how his eyes gleam mischievously since he’s so full of himself. If Clementine wasn’t in the house right now, you’re certain that Jungkook would’ve been on the floor, knocked out. You would’ve hit him with a frying pan, like in that one Disney movie Clementine loved so much. Or you would’ve hit him with your Pre-Calc textbook. That shit was heavy. You could knock him out cold with that. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

You roll your eyes at him, saying nothing and eating the rest of your pizza. You make a mental note to ask your parents why the fuck they thought it was a good idea to call over Jungkook on a Friday night.

But you know the answer to that already. They seem to believe that you haven’t been “responsible” enough for Clementine, which is weird, knowing that you’ve practically raised her all her life. Your parents have always been too busy to spend enough quality time with her, save for when they defend her at dinnertime.

So instead of having a civil conversation with you—or even asking if you were doing alright—they decided (without your permission) that a babysitter would be the best option for your little sister. And you still had to stay at home tonight because your mom asked you to “see if the babysitter is okay for Clementine”.

You’re not sure where the logic was in your parents’ thought process, but you did feel bad about your sister. She had warmed up to you a little bit after yesterday, but you know that she’ll stay closed off for a while. Not only to you, but to everyone else. You wish that your parents had known that. If they did, they’d be able to get that you’re probably the best babysitter for her. But no, they had to invite Jungkook over, someone who’s boisterous and annoying, and they probably expect Clementine to get along with him just fine. (And also, what had even compelled him to start a career in babysitting?)

So you decide to stay, just so she won’t be scared of being in her own house. You have been hard on her for a little bit after all, getting irrational and moody whenever she talks to you. It’s the least you could do for her. Despite everything, you still did really love her. 

She was your sister, for goodness sake!

“Hey, just a reminder,” Jungkook’s at your trash can, throwing away his plate, “Your bedtime’s at 10 tonight.”

It’s a stupid statement, and both of you are aware that the rules are for your sister. You can’t help but feel yourself heat up, though, when he sends a wink your way.

“That’s for my sister, you dumb fu-“

Your obvious response and insult combo is interrupted when you find Clementine standing in the doorway.

“Y/N?” Her voice is timid, shy, and her head hangs low when she speaks. She doesn’t like how there’s some random stranger in the kitchen.

“Yes?”

“Can we play Telestrations?” She keeps her eyes on you, and you feel yourself soften. It’s been a little bit since the two of you played anything together.

“Mind if I join in?” Jungkook says before you can actually respond to her. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, and Clementine blinks at him, stunned. All she does is nod, too afraid to verbally respond to your classmate.

You’re also stunned by his sudden change in demeanor. His cocky aura is replaced with a soft tone, smiling brightly at Clementine instead of smirking at you. He walks over to her, asking her where the board game is. She mumbles something quietly, something only Jungkook can hear, and he responds with an even more enthusiastic grin. He turns to you before they make their way back to the living room.

“You coming, or…?”

So that’s how you find yourself at your coffee table with your little sister and the most annoying person you’ve met in your entire life, getting ready to play a round of Telestrations.

All you can say is that your night definitely isn’t going the way you planned at all.

He’s sitting criss cross applesauce on the carpet, extremely relaxed as you pass out the cards, the drawing pads, and the dry erase markers. You try to hide the scowl you oh so desperately want to show, but if Clementine sees you upset with him, she’ll definitely feel less safe with him.

You don’t know why you’re defending him, but here you are, attempting to be civil with him just to make sure your sister doesn’t feel as threatened as you do. You try your best not to start any fights with him, either. You’ve heard enough about people calling you a bitch at school. Ever since you broke up with Jimin, you’ve somehow been deemed the psychotic ex by all of your peers, because how could Jimin possibly do anything wrong?

You can’t tell what’s worse: the fact that everyone says you’re a bitch, or the fact that girls come up to you now, asking you for advice on your ex-boyfriend.

Sighing, you watch as Clementine rolls a four and chooses “This Side” of the cards. You internally groan when you look at the yellow side of the card. The glossy square seems to laugh at you, presenting what your subject would be.

How the hell were you supposed to draw “tunnel vision”?

Writing your name and the word on the first page, you mentally prepare for the challenge heading your way.

“Y/N,” Clementine calls for you, “Mine isn’t working…”

Jungkook hands his marker to her before you can, and he’s testing all the other markers in the box to see if they’ll work for him. You look at him accusingly, eyes asking him: “What the hell are you trying to gain?” He shrugs at you, a simple action that tells you:

“Sorry, I’m just a great babysitter.”

He quickly goes back to his own card, copying down the words with his new marker. You return your attention to your pad, figuring out how you were going to draw your word.

“Are you gonna set the timer, Clementine?” Jungkook asks, and she shakes her head.

“We don’t use it,” She responds in a mere whisper, and Jungkook can’t hear her.

“Huh?”

“We don’t use the timer,” You answer for her, “It’s more fun that way. You can take your time.”

He nods, and the three of you flip to the first page so you can start.

You draw—well, attempt to draw—a pair of glasses facing two strange rods. You squint at the doodle, examining it as if you had to guess what the answer was. The only possible answers you’ve come up with are that A.) You’re terrible at drawing, B.) Art is definitely not your future career, and C.) No one is going to be able to figure out your drawing, not even yourself.

“So, Clementine,” Jungkook starts, catching both you and your sister’s attention, “That’s a pretty cool name.”

“Thank you,” She doesn’t look up from her pad, too focused on her drawing.

“Do people call you anything else?” He prompts, going to work on his own pad as well.

“What do you mean?” “Like, nicknames.”

“Oh. My friends call me Tina,” She says, “Y/N calls me Clem, though.”

“That’s dope,” He pops the “p”, and the way his mouth moves is enough to annoy you.

“Yeah,” Is all your sister says, and it’s obvious that both of them are determined in making their drawings look good. You, on the other hand, are already done with your sad chicken scratch of a drawing, and you take the time to watch Clementine as she leans close to her pad, right hand clutching the marker tightly.

Like your dad, Clementine was able to immerse herself in a single task, but unlike him, she was incredibly skilled in multitasking. Sometimes, she’d read a book while having a full conversation with you, and she’d still remember the content of the chapter she was reading. It was a skill that you both envied and admired about her, how she could easily redirect her attention to one task while also still performing the second task flawlessly.

“You done already, Y/N?” Jungkook quirks a brow while he looks up from his drawing. You sneak a glance at your sister, who’s immersed in her drawing, before responding.

“Don’t push it,” You mouth out, folding your hands together on your lap while you wait for the other two to finish. Jungkook flashes an obnoxious smirk your way, and it takes everything in you to not kick him in the balls right now.

“I’m done,” Clementine announces, passing her pad to you. You pass yours to Jungkook, praying that he doesn’t say anything too terrible to you. He then passes his to Clementine, completing the circle.

“W-What?” Jungkook mumbles to himself, biting back a laugh while he examines your drawing. You internally groan. There was no use in hoping that he’d have mercy on you.

In an attempt to block out his bothersome snickering, you try to guess what Clementine’s word was. You feel part of yourself die inside, as you can already tell what she’s drawn. You write the word “deer” on the third page, after looking at the drawing one more time. In the short amount of time Clementine had given herself, her depiction of a deer was scarily accurate.

“Are you guys done?”

She has her pad lying on the coffee table while she drums her fingers on the surface. You nod, while Jungkook has his hand covering his mouth. He shakes his head, still trying to decipher your sad, sad drawing. Instead of making fun of you, he’s actually making an effort to figure out what your word was, eyebrows deeply furrowed while his eyes run across your pad multiple times.

You’d feel bad because you truly don’t have an artistic bone in your body, but seeing him frustrated by your doing slightly amuses you.

Jungkook takes a few seconds before taking a deep sigh and quickly scrawling something on your pad. You can’t tell if you’re excited or dreading what he put down for your word, but that doesn’t matter because now you have to draw Clementine’s guess of what Jungkook’s word is.

A frog?

How come everyone else’s words were so easy? And how are you supposed to remember what a frog looks like?

Biting your lip, you hesitantly put the dry erase marker on the pad. You stop when it makes the initial hit, a small dot appearing on the laminated surface. This is because Jungkook’s leaning over to watch you draw, his hair mere centimeters away from tickling your skin. When you freeze, Jungkook finally moves away, turning to face you.

“You need something?” You ask in an accusatory tone. He shrugs.

“I dunno. You look constipated, so I was curious,” He says, working on a new drawing. It’s another dumb yet excruciatingly annoying jab at you, and you’re baffled at how anyone could think that that was something of use to say.

Clementine giggles, and both you and Jungkook gawk at her in surprise. You feel a sense of betrayal, seeing as your own sister finds someone like Jeon Jungkook humorous. But she’s having fun, so maybe your dignity would have to be something to sacrifice tonight.

And your parents wonder whether or not you’re a good older sister for Clementine, as if you weren’t literally tolerating the person you hate most right now just for her. You steady yourself, being proud of your kindness to him so far. The fact that you’ve actually restrained yourself from knocking Jungkook out in itself is a surprise. You’ll be sure to reward yourself with something later.

You go back to your drawing, working on the small bumps for the eye sockets and the wide almond shape of the frog’s mouth. The frog looks incredibly awkward, its eyes a little too close for your liking. Did frogs have nostrils? Obviously, right? You draw two thin slits on top of its long line of a mouth, hoping that that’s what a frog’s nose looks like. It resembles a frog, and honestly you’re willing to take whatever you can get, so you close the pad, waiting for the other two to finish.

When everyone is done and all of the pads have returned to their respective owners, you get ready to present the devolution of your prompts. Clementine’s eager to go first, which puts a soft smile on your face.

She shows off her deer, and then your correct guess, and then Jungkook’s drawing. Quite frankly, you’re quite amazed at Jungkook’s depiction of the prompt.

There’s a cute deer standing on some grass with a few random flowers around it. Like Clementine’s, it’s quite realistic, keeping in mind of the limited time and resources you’ve all had. Jungkook’s chest swells in pride when the two of you stare at his drawing for a few more seconds, secretly admiring his handiwork.

“I didn’t know you could draw!” Clementine’s indirect praises increase his ego but you stay quiet, not willing to say anything too positive around him.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Jungkook responds, pointing out how good her deer is.

Jungkook takes his turn to present, and even his frog is amazing. Then, he flips to your drawing, a failed imitation of a frog compared to Jungkook’s accurate one a few seconds ago.

“Tina,” The sudden use of the nickname confuses you. Since when did he think he could be this informal?

“Yeah?”

“Your sister’s not really the creative one in the family,” The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, “Don’t you think?”

Clementine thinks about what to say while Jungkook watches the steam coming out of your ears in pure delight. No matter how good of an artist Jungkook is, or how good of a babysitter he could be, nothing would ever make you want to be acquaintances with him, let alone being just civil with him. What makes matters worse is that Jungkook can easily get away with making infuriating jabs at you since your sister is here with you.

You also try not to think about how Jungkook is getting paid for tormenting you outside of school, because if you dwell on it for far too long, you don’t know what you’d do.

“Y/N doesn’t have to be good at that kinda stuff,” Clementine turns to you happily, “She’s already cool.”

You sheepishly smile back at her, and then she asks you to show your drawing pad now.

“Okay, so,” You clear your throat, “Uh, my word was tunnel vision.”

“...That actually makes sense now,” Jungkook nods, stroking his chin dramatically. He squints at the drawing as if he was in an art gallery.

“This is my drawing,” You flip the page, revealing your chicken scratch from before. Clementine bursts out laughing, and you can’t help but become a little annoyed at her reaction.

“How did you not get that?” She asks Jungkook, and you feel the anger bubble away and instead become replaced with smugness. Your sister still had your back after all.

“Hey!” He points at your drawing, baffled at your sister, “Look at that and tell me that you’d guess it correctly!”

“Um, yeah,” Clementine snickers.

“How?”

“It’s glasses. Vision,” You chime in, “Then those are tunnels. Tunnel vision, right, Clem?”

“Yeah!”

“What?!” Jungkook gawks while you give your sister a triumphant high five.

“What could you have possibly guessed?” You chuckle, turning the page out of curiosity.

Before you can see the word, however, Jungkook forcibly snatches the pad out of your hands. He’s no match to your quick reflexes, though, because you’re pouncing onto him, pinning him to the carpet so you can retrieve your stolen drawing pad.

You’re about to grab it, but then he grins at you, making you stop in your tracks.

Your eyes widen, realizing how you’re in an extremely close vicinity to him, his face inches away from yours. The two of you make unnerving, silent eye contact, each of you staring at each other’s face from time to time. It’s during this that you notice how big his eyes are, resembling Clementine’s drawing of the deer from before. You also notice the mole under his bottom lip and how his lips are naturally tinted a pleasant pink. Jungkook chuckles tauntingly at you and you come back to your senses. You’ve been staring at his lips far longer than you’d like to admit.

“Can’t get your hands off me, huh?” He whispers, winking at you. The pizza you had eaten 20 minutes ago crawls up your throat right away, and you immediately peel yourself off of him. Jungkook still has the pad in his hands, signalling a victory for him.

You cough awkwardly, returning to your seat and wiping away imaginary dust on your lap. You claw at some loose fabric of your sweatpants, balling up the material in your hands. Jungkook sits up as well, nonchalantly fixing his now messy hair. He remains unphased, even though you were literally on top of him a few seconds ago.

“He put Harry Potter and taquitos,” Clementine says, breaking the silence. Jungkook’s eyes shoot up to send her a glare with feigned annoyance, while you end up laughing a bit louder than you’d like to. Then again, anything to relieve the uncomfortable tension would work.

Jungkook’s cheeks are tinted a shy, light pink, while embarrassment is painted all over his face. It’s a lame situation to laugh at, one that you probably would never admit to anyone that you find it humorous, but seeing Jungkook flustered makes you the happiest girl in the world.

The night continues with Clementine bringing out all of the board games your parents bought you over the years. It’s fun yet unbelievably painful, having to cooperate with Jungkook just for the sake of Clementine. When you played Monopoly with them, you were always reluctant to give Jungkook money, even if it was fake. You were also reluctant to receive money from him, even if the action was beneficial for you and not the other way around.

He spends the night still making stupid jabs at you, some of them earning laughs from your sister. You suck it up and deal with it, because this is the happiest you’ve seen Clementine in a long time, so you just strain a smile and move on.

When it’s about 9:45 PM, the three of you stop playing board games since Clementine has to get ready for bed. You come up to her room so that you can say goodnight and tuck her in.

“Today was fun, Y/N,” She giggles while you pull the covers over to her.

“That’s good to hear, Clemmie,” You respond, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Before you shut off her light, Clementine grabs the bottom hem of your shirt.

“Y/N?”

“What’s up?” The scared look in her eyes tells you that you’re gonna have to stay for a little longer, so you sit down on the bed.

“Are mom and dad gonna be okay?”

At first, you’re shocked that Clementine had even noticed, but then again, she’s always been this observant. And she was 12 already. She wasn’t dumb. It was also obvious that the reason why your parents randomly decided to go to dinner tonight was because they were trying to iron out some issues that they’ve been having.

All you do is nod and ruffle her hair playfully. Another smile appears on her face when you kiss her cheek.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” You say, although you’re not so sure yourself.

Recently, you’ve been having trouble sleeping as well. This was because your parents always start fighting whenever they see that Clementine is asleep. You don’t know what exactly they’re arguing about every night, but you’ve assumed that it must be money issues or something along the lines of that. Real adult stuff that they want to keep you two out of, but it’s so hard to ignore when they’re yelling at each other so loudly.

Clementine’s room is closer to the stairs. Of course it’s not a surprise that she’d notice there was something wrong with your parents.

“Do you think I…?” She mumbles out the question, but you don’t need her to finish the rest of it because you’re wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close to you.

“Don’t ever think that,” You say, sighing, “You didn’t do anything, ok? Mom n’ Dad are just fixing things between themselves.”

She nods, hugging you back.

“You should go to sleep,” You pull yourself off of her, placing yet another kiss on her head before tucking her in under the covers, “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Promise?” She sticks out her pinky finger and you chuckle, sticking out yours and looping it around hers.

“I promise.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You say goodnight to her, turning off her lamp and shutting the door. Now that she was attended to, you had to start cleaning up. You walk downstairs to see Jungkook sprawled out over your couch, lazily scrolling through his phone. You wish that the saying “Make yourself at home” never existed, since your parents have an affinity for using it, which in turn forces you to deal with Jungkook laying on your couch like a complete slob.

The first job you assign yourself is to tidy up the living room, and you stack up all of the board games together so you can put it in the random storage closet your house has. Jungkook, of course, doesn’t bat an eye at the fact that you’re cleaning up the house all by yourself.

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. You walk over to the kitchen to have another slice of pizza while Jungkook acts like you don’t exist in your own house. Your stomach grumbles obscenely, even though you had a slice a few hours earlier.

It must be the stress. You do tend to be hungrier when you’re under a lot of stress, and today threw many annoyances your way.  

You check your phone and you realize that Hoseok texted you an hour ago.

[October 9, 7:30 PM] Hobi: Y/N i honestly think i’m gonna lose my mind?????????? Y/N? Y/N where tf are u i’m going insane holy shit text me when u get this PLEASE

Right away, your fingers move at the speed of light

[October 9, 10:30 PM] Y/N: omfg hobs you have no idea the shit i just went thru think i got three years taken off of my life anyways sry for the late reply what happened?

The iconic three dots and text bubble show up. You stifle a laugh. Hoseok must’ve been waiting by his phone for your text.

Hobi: i think i may have gotten myself into a date???

Y/N: a WHAT with WHO Hobi: yknow like mymanwhosnotreallymanbutheis yeah him Y/N: ur joking SPILL

You eagerly chew on the cold, stale pizza in your other hand as you wait for Hoseok to tell his whole story. Whether he’d be sending a voice memo or he’d just spam you with a multitude of texts, you never really knew. That’s just how Hoseok was.

But that didn’t really matter, because Hoseok had a date. With the kid he’s liked since the beginning of last year. Kim Namjoon.

Kim Namjoon, coincidentally in Hoseok’s photography class this semester, was easily the smartest person in the whole school. The teachers were more than heartbroken knowing that he’d be graduating this year. The students, more specifically the girls, were also saddened, because Namjoon was also quite attractive. He was tall, kind, and extremely smart, and because of this, he had earned the title as “The Package” by Hoseok. He was everything everyone ever wanted in one person. Accurately put, Kim Namjoon was a  full package.

Hobi: ok well like we have a project in photography class where we have to take pics of nature and i wanted to do the flowers bc yknow, easy A and since u couldn’t hang out today >:( Y/N: hey, not my fault my parents think that i’m a terrible sister

Hobi: yeah u have to tell me how that went but anyways i went out to take pics after practice and guess who i saw? namjoon

Y/N: aaaaAAAAAHHHH

Hobi: YEAH and then we were talking and stuff and it turns out that he’s doing flowers too and then he gave me HIS NUMBER Y/N: omfg,,,

Hobi: i  k n o w so like i think two hrs ago he texted me and we started talking and stuff and then he was like “yknow there are prettier flowers in the botanical garden downtown” and then he asked if i wanted to hang out next week so i said yeah Y/N: holy shit hobs

Hobi: yeah so it’s not really an official date but i’m counting it as one in my book

You hold back a squeal, though you want to scream at the top of your lungs so badly. You opt to just smiling from ear to ear at your screen as you continue to freak out over text.

Hobi: the only problem is that i have to pretend that i like nature :( but not only that…. like i have to know stuff

Now Hoseok’s begging you for advice on nature, and you mention that you also aren’t the biggest nature lover either. Hoseok tells you he’ll have to do some research on flowers and you think that he’s the funniest person you’ve ever met. 

Your brief moment of happiness is rudely interrupted, however, when you suddenly see Jungkook before you, standing across from you at the kitchen island.

“You’re still hungry?” He says, opening the box and grabbing the last slice.

“You’re one to talk,” You scowl, watching him take a bite from his pizza.

Jungkook leans on the island, which in turn causes him to be closer to you, since you’re also leaning on the same surface.

“You don’t really smile a lot, baby,” He teases, wiping off sauce from the corner of his mouth.

So there he was. The Jeon Jungkook you’ve known and hated so dearly. He’s always called you random pet names, simply because he knows how much you despise him. It takes everything in you to hold back the urge to cuss him out. The walls are thin and your sister might wake up.

“Don’t call me that, first off,” You spit, “Second off, why do you care so much?”

“Jus’ makin’ conversation,” His cheeks puff up as he continues to stuff his mouth with food.

“Like I give a shit,” You grumble, looking away from the chewed up food that you can see in his mouth. It’s so unfortunate that Jungkook thinks it’s a good idea to talk while eating.

“Wow, you’re so mean to me,” He takes a large swallow of his food and then pouts, “You’re killin’ me here, babe.”

Despite his seemingly sad words, Jungkook’s giving you a big, toothy grin. He winks at you for the umpteenth time tonight, and you try to think of all the ways to kill someone in silence. Right now, you wish that Clementine was awake, because it’s only around her that he seems to be somewhat decent towards you.

“You have a nice house and nice parents,” He says, more to himself rather than you as his eyes scan the tidy kitchen, “And your sister’s so nice. Why aren’t you?”

“Why are you such an asshole?”

“Why are you such a bitch?”

Some would say that 10 PM is too late to have a nonsensical argument with some douchebag quarterback from your grade, but here you are having a ridiculously heated dispute with Jungkook at 10 PM. Again, all of this is happening in your own house.  

You roll your eyes at him, and you wonder how you haven’t hurt yourself by the amount of times you’ve done that today.

The two of you eat pizza in angered silence, an uncomfortable situation you never thought you’d ever have in your entire life. Well, you’re a lot angrier than Jungkook, who’s got a smug, satisfied look on his face because he just thinks it’s so much fun to annoy the hell out of you. That makes you even more upset, which causes you to get angry with yourself because you know you shouldn’t let someone get to you like this. It’s a never ending cycle of negativity whenever you’re around him, really.

Soon enough, the faint, muffled sound of the garage opening is heard through the door, and you breathe a sigh of relief. That’s Jungkook’s signal to leave.

Before he leaves, though, he turns to you yet again.

“Thanks for the money,” He winks, “And the free pizza.”

The weekend goes by pretty slowly, but eventually, you end up in the classroom again.

Your school day is pretty much uneventful until you get to 5th hour Pre-Calc.

The busy click, click, click of mechanical pencils and the sound of scribbles from students’ writing are all you can hear after lunch. You follow their leads, hastily scrawling down your own notes on the lines of your notebook on your desk. Once you finally get into the zone of your note taking, you feel Jungkook lean in behind you. He’s so close that you can smell the cologne he uses, and the familiar odor sets off your flight or fight system.

Now that your parents have officially “hired” Jungkook as Clementine’s full-time babysitter, you realize that you’ll be forced to see him more often and have that strong, pungent cologne constantly wafting into your nostrils. You’re certain that you’d lose your sense of smell eventually.

If only Clementine hadn’t continued praising him after he left last Friday. Maybe then your house would actually be a safe haven for you. But no, now Jungkook is allowed to come and go into your house whenever your parents need him. (Again, as if they didn’t have a whole other daughter who was willing to take care of Clementine.)

But that’s another issue to worry about later, because Jungkook’s obnoxiously chomping down on his gum right in your ear. He’s so close that you can practically smell the watermelon flavor from his mouth, and you want to barf.

All you can think is: A.) Who in their right minds would ever actively choose watermelon gum over mint, and B.) Who would think it’s a good idea to chew on their gum so damn loud in the middle of class?

To both of those questions, the answer is Jungkook, plain and clear.

“Do you mind?” You hiss at him as you try to copy what the teacher has written on the chalkboard, “This isn’t a fucking ASMR channel.”

“Slow your roll there, baby,” His words come out in a teasing lilt, the pet name causing you to tighten your grip on your pencil, “First off, mind your business. Second off, I’d be an amazing ASMR youtuber, thank you very much.”

He’s imitating the way you talk to him, which makes your blood boil yet again.

“Well, you’re not giving me any chills.”

“I could if I wanted to.”

His statement causes you to freeze in your seat, mind racing as you try to think of a good comeback. Nothing appears, and you’re sure that if you were in the right headspace, you would’ve already had something good to say.

But you’re still going through heartbreak and the stress of dealing with your parents, so all you can muster to say is:

“You’re disgusting.”

Your words remind you of Friday night, which then makes you want the Earth to cave in under you and swallow you whole. You’re still dumbfounded at how Jungkook was able to come into your house without setting off all of the security systems your parents have installed there.

“Aw, baby girl,” The use of that pet name makes the digested lunch from 20 minutes ago crawl up your throat rapidly, “You really got me there! I’m so hurt, you know that? You’re so mean to me.”

You can’t see him, but you just know that he’s clutching his heart dramatically. Your whole body burns up in flames as you imagine the annoying smile on his face, the way it tugs to the right side a little more because he’s so proud of himself. He can see the steam pouring out of your ears, and all that does is egg him on.

Now he’s poking your back lazily with the end of his pencil, propping his head up on his elbow as he tries his hardest not to laugh.

It takes approximately ten seconds until you snap.

Once the pencil hits your back for the umpteenth time, you reach behind you quickly, snatching it and tugging it forcefully out of his hands. Without thinking, you hold the ends of the pencil between your fists and when your fists shoot up away from each other, the pencil breaks in half cleanly. You’re satisfied with the splintering ends of Jungkook’s pencil while he’s gawking at you, wondering how the hell you could have broken a pencil without any struggle. The smug smile is now on your face, but it quickly fades away when Ms. Lee turns to you and places her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. You make eye contact with her and you immediately straighten up your seat, your breath hitching as you attempt to remain calm under her threatening presence.

You weren’t scared of many things, but Ms. Lee definitely made your skin crawl.

“Miss Y/N?” Her voice booms all the way to your seat in the back of the class, “Would like to share with the class as to why exactly you’re breaking a pencil in the middle of my lesson?”

“No, ma’am,” You quickly respond, your words coming out in a pathetic squeak.

You can feel the mischievous gaze Jungkook has on you, but you pay no attention to it. The teacher grunts, turning her back to the class and resuming her ever so important task of writing important formulas on the chalkboard.

You let out a soft groan and you noticeably slump in your seat, making Jungkookk chuckle.

“Nice save there, Y/N.”

“Fuck off, will you?” You toss the pencil halves back onto his desk, not wanting to have anything to do with any of Jungkook’s property. You made a mental note to wash your hands once class ended so you could rid yourself of whatever pathogens lurked on Jungkook’s pencil.

“Do you always have such a way with words?”

If you were in a private space with Jungkook, where his hands are tied and he couldn’t do anything to hurt you, you’re sure that he would’ve been beaten to a bloody pulp by now. You desperately yearn to have just one day where you can beat his ass.

But you frown, knowing that that day would never come.

“Do you always act like a pretentious dick?”

“Baby girl,” The name returns and you have never wanted to kill someone as much as you’d like to Jeon Jungkook right here, right now, in 5th Hour Pre-Calc with Ms. Lee, “If there’s anything to describe this dick, it’s certainly not pretentious, I’ll have you know that.”

“Wow,” You scoff, “Do you always have such a way with words?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact-“

“Miss Y/N and Mr. Jungkook!” Ms. Lee bellows, “I am teaching a lesson! Would you like to share-“

“No, ma’am!”

You keep your head low, continuing to copy down the notes on the board. Jungkook kicks the back of your seat multiple times throughout class, and the only thing you can think is:

How is this guy allowed to be around little kids?

Usually, when you see someone regularly in your life, your bond with them grows stronger. But with Jeon Jungkook, you’ve learned with each passing day that your hate for him becomes stronger and stronger. And it’s been exactly five weeks. You’ve kept track.

Because now that he’s your sister’s babysitter, he’s become a lot more involved in your life. At least, he’s become involved in Clementine’s life (which ultimately means yours as well).

And as a result, your parents have started going out almost every single night, save for when there’s a football game or when Jungkook is too busy with homework. This meant that he was at your house at least 3 times a week, sometimes even more, because he just loved being with your family and your family just had to feel the same way. Sometimes your parents would even ask him to drive Clementine home from school. 

(An issue that would easily be solved if they let you learn how to drive. But apparently that was absolutely preposterous.)

One thing you’ve learned about Jungkook is that he’s scarily good at acting. He’s amazing at being sweet to Clementine, offering to drive her home after school whenever he can and creating inside jokes with her all the time as if he wasn’t planning on ruining your life this whole time. Since he’s such a “good babysitter”, your parents have started having him come over for dinner, and almost every night you had to restrain yourself from starting a food fight with him. He was always polite to your parents, though, making easy conversation with them at the table but never even daring to say a single word to you.

If someone was on the outside looking in, they’d think that Jungkook was a good person. Like a superhero, however, when he was around you, he would take off his disguise and reveal what he really is: a conceited jock who only thought with his dick.

The only possible benefit of him taking care of Clementine is that you have a lot more freedom now. That freedom has turned into occasional hangouts with Hoseok on the weekend. You’d usually use any chance you could get of hanging out with your best friend, but you also didn’t trust the dangerous human being who was constantly in your house, watching her. As a result, you’ve chosen to stay at home with Clementine, babysitting her babysitter. You label it as being a protective older sister.

But as Jungkook annoyingly puts it, with his notorious, cocky grin:

“You really like my company, don’t you, babe?”

He couldn’t be further from the truth.

This is different from tonight, though, because you’re relishing in the overly sweet, artificial taste of the strawberry shake right in front of you. It tastes like relief, like some much needed freedom from your overbearing parents on a Thursday evening.

Today, they took it upon themselves to lecture you about your sleeping schedule, telling you it’s irresponsible to stay up so late. What they don’t get is that you’ve been working on an important paper for your AP Lang class while also helping one of your classmates with their own paper. It strikes you that they don’t realize how much schoolwork your teachers pile on you. And it infuriates you even more that they always jump to the conclusion that you’re a bad kid, even though you’ve constantly had good grades while balancing schoolwork with cheer. That notion’s always gone unnoticed.

Of course, this wasn’t a pretty sight to be seen, your parents arguing with you right before their dinner date, and coincidentally, right as Jungkook stepped into the house. You don’t know what his reaction was, but you presume that he was most likely stunned. The only time you’re ever truly enraged, bluntly saying whatever harsh comments come to your mind, is when your mom starts to belittle you. This was the first time Jungkook’s ever seen you this upset. Or articulate.

It was safe to say that things didn’t end well, you storming up into your room and slamming the door.

And, as expected, you chose to have a much needed diner date with Hoseok tonight. Clementine even encouraged you to go, saying that she’d be fine with Jungkook, but you couldn’t help but still be concerned for her safety.

“Y/N, stop checking your phone,” Hoseok whines, snatching it from you, “What’s got your panties in such a knot?”

You grumble in protest when Hoseok scrolls through your conversation with your little sister over text message.

The music from the old, torn down jukebox fills the diner, and you’re surprised that it still even works. That jukebox has been there ever since your parents were kids. Nonetheless, you enjoy the nice, cheery melodies playing from it. You kick at some random bits of fries on the floor, your beaten red converse still visible under the dark shadows of the table. The diner smells of fried food, a scent that you’ll happily breathe in everyday. There’s an elderly couple sitting at the other end of the diner, waiting for their waitress to bring them their food. The old lady waves to you, and you wave back, flashing a small smile her way.

“Y/N, Tina’s gonna be perfectly fine,” He says, creating a shooing motion with his hand, “It’s not like he’s going to kill her.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He literally loves her,” Hoseok takes a bite of his burger, some of the juice from the patty seeping out, “Yesterday he asked me to ask you what type of music Tina liked, Remember? Granted, he was too scared to talk to you. but-”

“Don’t,” You groan, stealing a fry as compensation, “Don’t remind me.”

“Hey, I don’t like him either,” He says, “But I’m just sayin’ that you don’t gotta worry so much. Your sister’s 12 already. She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And technically, there would be no clear motive for him to do anything wrong because he’s getting paid,” Hoseok takes a fry for himself, “Why would he feel a need to get rid of his only source of income? That’d be ridiculous.”

You sigh, resting your head on the table in defeat. He was right. Even if Jungkook was a douchebag towards you, he wasn’t insane.

“Don’t do that!” Hoseok scolds, flicking your forehead, “Your menu was just on that table!”

“So?” You rub your forehead in a failed attempt to the pain Hoseok has just inflicted onto you.

“You know menus can have 185,000 germs per square centimeter?” He exasperatedly explains, pulling out some hand sanitizer from his backpack, “Or was it only 85,000…? No, I remember it being-“

“Wonder where you got that information,” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows while you cleanse yourself with Hoseok’s hand sanitizer. The tips of Hoseok’s ears turn red in seconds, and you laugh at his misfortune.

“You’re so lucky I love you,” He grumbles, hiding his face in his hands. You giggle, eating so many of Hoseok fries that he decides to order some more for you. That’s how your diner “dates” usually went, you only ordering a shake but then stealing all of Hoseok’s food.

“How’s that going, by the way?”

“He’s adorable, as always, but he’s really… How do I say this?” He pretends to search for the right words before deadpanning, “An absolute fucking idiot.”

“What?” The statement catches you off guard, and you almost choke on your shake.

“He’s so dumb, Y/N,” Hoseok hits his forehead with his palm, “So we’ve been hanging out a lot, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me why he can’t get the clue that I want him to actually ask me out?!” He groans, “Like, I’ve been trying to bring up prom, but he doesn’t get from the multiple times that I’ve said that I don’t have a date that I want him to ask me…”

Hoseok angrily chomps down on the last bit of his burger, while you’re still roaring in hysterics about how he finds Namjoon frustratingly adorable.

“I don’t get boys,” He pouts, “I really don’t. And I am one!”

“You can say that again,” You chuckle, sipping the rest of the shake in your glass.

The two of you catch up on everything you haven’t been able to share from weeks before, since school can provide only so much time for talking. When spending time with Hoseok, you realize how often you let the little things get to you. You tend to sweat the small stuff so much that you don’t realize all the good things happening to you. It was a nice albeit short break from reality, sitting with Hoseok in your favorite diner with your favorite strawberry shake and some greasy, delicious fries.

Eventually, you end up back at home at 10:30 PM. You come a little bit later than your assigned curfew, but it’s not like your parents would notice. They’d be home even later, since they’re stuck at your grandparents’ house. You snicker to yourself while you unlock the door, imagining the invigorating conversations they’re having over there.

The first thing you’re (begrudgingly) met with is Jungkook sitting on your couch, watching football.

“You’re home late,” He says, eyes glued to the screen. You kick off your shoes, letting them land wherever they want to, and you ignore him. You weren’t about to let anyone, not even Jungkook, ruin the fun night you had. It was too much for you to be constantly miserable.

Then, as if on cue, the smell of chocolate chip cookies wafts into your nose rather pleasantly.

“Did you guys bake?” You ask quietly, taking off your jacket. Jungkook nods.

You walk over to the garage door, where the coat closet is. Putting away your jacket, you smile to yourself. A cookie sounds amazing right now.

Grabbing some milk out of the fridge, you pour yourself a glass and take a second to really take in the beauty of the cookies. They’re perfectly browned at their edges, while their center is a light tan, and there’s a few visible chocolate chunks in all of them. Your mouth waters, despite stuffing yourself with milkshakes and fries. You place three cookies on a plate.

“I’ll be in my room,” You say as you walk up the stairs. You know Jungkook doesn’t care, but it’s been a force of habit ever since you were a kid.

When you reach your room, you quickly open the dormer window so you can sit on the roof.

If you were ever to meet the person who designed this house, you would give them a big hug and ask them to marry you, regardless of their gender. The dormer window and its alcove has been a safe space for you growing up, and you sit on the roof every time you need to clear your mind or if you just needed to treat yourself on an especially rough day.

You swing your legs outside the window, slowly moving near the edge of the sill until you’re comfortable. The brisk night air makes its way into your room, the wind pushing your hair gently in different directions. There’s a soft symphony of crickets chirping, and you take this moment to stare at the night sky.

A handful of stars shine in the pitch black sky, more than you’d see in the city but less than you’d see in the country. You make a silent prayer that one day that you’d be able to experience what a full starry night sky would be like.

Your plate of cookies and glass of milk is placed on the window seat. A cookie finds its way off of the plate, into your hands, and then into your mouth. The first bite is perfect, bits of chocolate and cookie crumbs left on your lips. You lick them eagerly, feeling nothing but euphoric as you take a sip of your milk.

“Never knew Tina could bake,” You hear a low voice behind you. It’s soft, but you still jump when you’re taken out of your cookie-intoxicated trance.

Looking up, you see Jungkook at your door, walking over to you. Your face is stuffed with mashed up cookie bits and some milk, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too tired to care, nonchalantly wiping off your faint milk moustache with the sleeve of your sweater.

“She’s great at it.”

“I know,” He chuckles before pointing to the window cushion, “Mind if I…?”

“If I said that I did mind,” You move your plate and your glass to the side so Jungkook has space, “What would you do?”

“I’d sit down anyways,” He jokes, doing just as he says.

“No point in asking, then.”

An awkward silence befalls the two of you, but that’s how nights with the babysitter went, unnerving pauses constantly appearing as he tries to figure out what to say to annoy you.

In fact, you’ve created a game out of these situations. You try to guess what he’ll tell you this time. Right now, you’re betting that he’ll mention something about your peach fuzz, or that you’re a fattie for having cookies late at night. He’s called you thunder thighs before. You wouldn’t put him past calling you a fattie.

“She talks about you a lot, y’know.”

You’re initially taken aback, but the night is too calming, so now you’re pulling your legs close to your chest, a soft sigh escaping your lips. You have your back turned to him, sitting on the window sill while he’s on the window seat, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You hear him sniffle, “Didn’t know that you liked the Power Rangers so much.”

“Are you kidding me?” You turn around to face him, “That was my childhood.”

“Mine too,” He smiles, one that’s different from his usual smirk, “Favorite ranger?”

“Trini, easily,” You point to the Yellow Ranger plushie laying on your bed, and he chuckles.

“I personally like Zordon the most.”

It’s not something you’d usually laugh at, but Jungkook ends up cracking up at his own joke and somewhere along the way, you find yourself giggling at it as well.

Another silence comes, and you finish the rest of your cookies and milk while he fidgets nervously with his hands. If Jungkook was trying to have a conversation with you right now, he was failing miserably. It’s somewhat interesting to you, seeing him open his mouth to speak, hesitate, and then closing it out of the corner of your eye.

It’s kind of cute, even.

You blink, looking forward. What the hell were you thinking? Was the loneliness really getting to you that quickly?

“Tina made those for you, actually.”

“That’s sweet of her.”

“Yeah, um,” Jungkook scratches the nape of his neck, “She told me more about what happened earlier today.”

“Huh?”

“With your parents.”

“Oh.”

You imagine what Clementine must’ve thought, seeing your parents continue to yell at you for hours on end about your sleeping schedule. She hates seeing her family upset, and that probably made her sad for a while. You hope that she’s sleeping peacefully in her room right now, tucked away into a land of dreams.

“Yeah,” He mumbles, “I’m sorry about that.”

Involuntarily, you let out a scoff. Whether it’s directed towards him or your parents, you’re not sure. You are quite surprised, though. Since when did Jungkook ever apologize for anything? Since when did he ever feel bad?

“No need to be sorry,” You mumble, “Not like you did anything.”

Another silence, this time being accented with some awkward coughing.

“I mean, I think it’s sweet.”

“You think my parents getting on my back about sleep is sweet?”

“No, no, no,” He quickly sputters out, “I mean that your sister cares about you so much. I think that’s really sweet.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” You say, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, “That’s Clementine for ya. Sweet.”

“Like the fruit.”

“Yeah,” You chuckle, “Did you know her name means ‘mercy’?”

It’s a fact you like to share with anyone willing to hear.

“That’s really cool, actually.”

“Yeah, my mom chose that name because I was too mean when I was younger,” You shake your head at the memory, “She said that we’d need someone more forgiving in the family, so the name stuck.”

“I can imagine that.”

“Shut up!”

“Sorry, sorry,” He laughs, and there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again, “It’s nice, having dinner with you guys.”

“Dinner’s alright. Shockingly average,” You shrug, drawing out the last two words, “Why do you like it so much?”

“It’s nice to see you and Clementine together, I guess,” He runs a hand through his hair, “Things like that aren’t so simple for me.”

“What’s wrong with your home?” Your tone seems a lot more blunt and judgemental than you intended it to be, but Jungkook isn’t phased. He laughs at your question, even.

“Which one?”

You got the memo.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal. You’re not the reason why my parents split,” He says nonchalantly, but then he laughs at himself again, “You know, I have a little brother too. He’s a little bit younger than Tina.”

You turn around and stare at him, and you’re unable to hide the surprise in your face. The position of you constantly craning your neck just to talk to him is uncomfortable, so you sit on the other side of the alcove, pulling your legs to your chest once more.

“What’s his name?”

“Yeonjin.”

“Not trying to be mean, but I always thought you were an only child. You kinda give off the vibe,” You rest your chin on your knees, “How come he’s never with you?”

“I don’t blame you,” He says, “It’s ‘cause he tries to always be with our dad. He also hates my guts, so there’s that, too.”

“...Can I ask why?”

The warm glow of your bedroom light shines on one half of his face, while the dim lighting from outside paints his other half. You take in his appearance, how his hair has gotten messier every time he runs his hands through it, how his soft brown eyes are bouncing around your room, studying each poster and each picture that you have placed on your wall. He takes a sharp breath before speaking.

“I hate my dad,” He scratches his cheek, “Well, not really? I don’t know, it’s confusing.”

“I get that.”

“I caught him cheating on my mom, I think two years ago,” He bites his lip, “And y’know, I told my mom. So they split.”

You nod, listening intently to every word he says.

“Yeon doesn’t know that. I begged them not to tell him,” He says, resting his head on the wall and staring out the window, “So he thinks that I’m why they’re not together.”

It’s during that moment where you realize that you don’t know much about Jungkook outside of the classroom and your home. You try to imagine what he must’ve felt during that moment, seeing his own dad with another woman. Then, you think about what it was like for him to know that his brother still blames him and will continue to blame him for everything.

The conclusion you reach is that you can never truly know the pain that he’s going through.

“You know it’s not your fault, though, right?” You point out, “It’s your dad’s.”

“Yeah, can’t help but feel bad sometimes, y’know?”

“I mean, no shit.”

A few light, sad chuckles emit from both of your lips.

“Well, that was strangely freeing,” He hummed, “I think you’re the second person in our school who knows that now… I don’t really know why I shared that, sorry.”

You look at him. He’s still staring out the window, his Adam’s apple clearly defined since his head is leaning back. His black shirt stretches loosely over his skin, giving you a vague hint of the muscles underneath, and his sweatpants make him look… cuddly, almost. You don’t know why, but somehow he seems as if he’d be so comfortable to hug.

Even if he’s in basic clothing, he still seems to look good.

Your initial reaction to this thought is that it’s wrong, but you’re too tired to protest it. Instead, you’re focused on how shy Jungkook has gotten, how he avoids direct eye contact and slurs his words together, save for the occasional stutters in between his sentences.

“Don’t feel bad, that’s pretty heavy. You gotta let that shit out sometimes.”

“Yeah…” He says, more to himself rather than to you, “Can I, uh, ask you a question?”

“What’s up?”

“Why’d you and Jimin break up?” His eyes are on yours, and he’s immediately trying to take back his question, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me, cause that’s none of my business-“

“You’re good,” You chuckle, “He cheated on me.”

“Damn, I’m sorry, I never knew...” He frowns, “Y’know, everyone thought you were endgame.”

“Me too,” You replied, “But apparently not.”

It isn’t until you feel Jungkook’s hand on your face that you realize you’re crying. He gently wipes away the influx of tears falling from your eyes, not saying anything sarcastic or mean towards you. He’s just… there. Ready and willing to listen. He even shuts the window when he notices you shivering, a shocking contrast from his usual behavior towards you.

It’s the first time anyone other than Hoseok has asked you for the real story. The first time someone that’s not your best friend has actually taken the time to listen to the truth.

“You know that’s not your fault, either, right?”

He’s repeating your words, but for some reason they don’t sound so convincing to you.

“I dunno,” You sniffle, “Feels like it is.”

“Why would it be? He cheated on you. Not the other way around.”

You take a few moments to steady your breathing before you speak. You don’t know why you want to spill your emotions out to Jungkook, but under the moonlight and your bedroom lights, there’s a sense of security in opening up to him.

“This is gonna sound so fucking stupid,” You start, “And you better not tell anyone, or else I’m for sure gonna kill you right when I see you.”

“I promise, I won’t.”

“I’ve never… done it,” You cringe right when the words come out of your mouth, “I told Jimin that we should wait until we… y’know.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” He states, and you can’t help but be surprised at how understanding he could be.

“You don’t think it’s a little bit weird?”

“Nah,” He replies, “I also think it’s absolutely not a reason to cheat. There’s literally no valid reason in doing that, no matter how unsatisfied you are with your partner.”

“I guess so.”

The fact that Jungkook is getting mad in your stead makes you giggle.

“And plus, it was you. How do you cheat on someone like that?”

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook pauses for a minute, processing what he had just said.

“I mean, if I was Jimin- No, I mean, if I was me,” He gestures to himself, “Which I am, I would never cheat on my partner. It just makes no sense. You already have a whole ass person who likes you. I think I’d be happy enough with that already.”

“Yeah, you’d think so,” You add, and now it’s you taking a few moments before speaking again, “Um, thanks, by the way. For talking with me, and stuff.”

“Oh, no worries,” He smiles at you, “Just kinda wanted to see how you were doing because of earlier. You did look pretty upset before you left the house.”

You smile back, and it seems like he’s about to say something, but the sound of the garage interrupts him, signalling that it’s time for him to leave. He stands up from the alcove and grabs your empty plate and cup to bring downstairs.

“Hey, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, right?”

You both know the answer to the question but Jungkook asks it anyway.

“Yeah, of course,” You can’t seem to wipe off the grin present on your face, “There’s nowhere else I could be.”

If you had to go back in time and tell yourself that eventually Jungkook would start driving you home after school and that you’d actually enjoy his company, you’re certain that your past self you’d slap your future self in the face and say that you were insane.

And maybe the latter was true.

“You’re terrible at singing,” He snickers, trying his best to keep his eyes on the road.

You’d retort and say that he doesn’t know shit and you’re actually an amazing singer, but you’re too preoccupied screaming One Direction lyrics off the top of your lungs. You decide to just jokingly flip him off instead.

The band’s songs hold a close place in your heart, because their music was what brought you and your sister closer. Although you’ve somewhat grown out of their cheesy lyrics about love and youth, you had to admit that their music was extremely catchy.

And apparently Jungkook thought this as well, because he was quietly singing along to each song word for word.

“Didn’t know you were a fan,” You tease, and he’s caught off guard.

“I’m not…”

“I bet you cried when Zayn left.”

He doesn’t look at you, because he’s driving, but the tips of his ears turn bright red, and you roar in hysterics at his reaction.

“You know I very well could’ve just left you at school,” He’s got a smile on his face despite his harsh words.

“Oh, you’d never,” You reply, staring out the window and enjoying the basic scenery around you.

After the one night where Jungkook and you dumped all your emotional baggage on each other, you found yourself looking forward to him being in your company from now on.

At first, you only decided to be nice to him since he knew the fact that you were with Park Jimin—that bombshell of a boy—and you never got it on with him. It’s not something you’re ashamed of, but you know you’d hate it if anyone else knew, because the rumor that you were crazy would just then become truer and truer to them. So you became nicer, gentler with Jungkook. Plus, hearing his story made your heart sadden a little whenever you saw how excited he was to be with Clementine.

And somewhere along the way, between him walking you to your classes and buying a Poptart pack and saving one for you after school every day, you realized that maybe he wasn’t such a bad kid to be around. He seemed to like being with you a lot too, always offering to drive you home when you had practice and when you didn’t, he’d offer to get fast food with you before going home.

Maybe it was the solidarity of experiencing pain, or it very well could just be that you’re one of the only people who knows Jungkook’s secrets and he’s one of the only people who knows about yours. Maybe there’s some pity for each other present, or it’s simply just because the both of you are tired of constantly bickering whenever you’re within a 20 foot-wide radius of each other.

You could spend countless hours trying to draw a conclusion, and you’ve tried to, during the late nights where you can’t sleep where you’re tossing and turning around restlessly. But eventually, you end up falling asleep, always answerless to the paradox you’ve been trying to solve.

Whatever the answer was, you’ve stopped caring about it, because you deemed it useless to keep trying to find it.

“How’s the new routine going?” He asks, desperate to change the topic.

“It’s going, that’s for sure,” You chuckle, “I think we just need a little bit more practice and we’ll be good.”

One thing that you’ve learned about Jungkook after becoming his friend is that he loses his natural vulgarity when you know about his family history.

You noticed this when Hoseok came over to your house one night and Jungkook didn’t call you a demeaning pet name at all during the time being. He also never bothered the two of you, making some small talk with Hoseok before leaving to play Just Dance with your sister. (He bought her that game when he found out that you guys had a Nintendo Switch that you never use).

The first thing Hoseok said to you when the two of you went to your room and you closed the door was:

“Where the hell is Jungkook and what the fuck did you do to him?”

It was a comical night, Hoseok freaking out over the wonderful, ever elusive mysteries named Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook.

Another thing you (and Hoseok) had learned about Jungkook is that, surprisingly enough, his best friend was the Kim Namjoon himself.

This happened that same night, when Jungkook knocked on the door and accidentally overheard Hoseok say his name. Jungkook’s initial reaction was:

“It’s you?!” He almost shrieked in disbelief, “You’re the one Joon has a crush on?!”

His words, of course, came with a shrill: “He has a crush on me?!” from Hoseok.

Through this rude awakening, Hoseok and you learned that Namjoon was the only friend Jungkook had. Apparently, he started tutoring Jungkook when Jungkook was about to fail freshman year. Jungkook said that Namjoon was the only reason as to why he survived his first year of high school, and because of that he never left Namjoon alone. Eventually, they had strangely become the best of buddies.

And being the best of buddies meant that he knew Namjoon’s secrets.

(Safe to say, it was a rough night for both Hoseok and Jungkook but a fun one for you.)

“How’s Seok and Joon?” Jungkook asks, out of the blue, and you can tell the question has been on his mind.

“Hobi’s waiting for Namjoon to make a move.”

“Ha, that’s funny.”

“What?”

“Namjoon’s waiting for him to.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I honestly wish I was,” He chuckles, driving into your subdivision.

“It’s amazing how glaringly obvious the two of them are,” You sigh, “Hoseok made bracelets for him. Tell me that that doesn’t scream: ‘Oh hey, by the way, I like you!’”

“Yeah, Joon has so many pics of him on his Insta, you’d think they’d be dating by now…”

“They’re really, really oblivious.”

“Well,” He shrugs, taking a turn into your driveway, “It happens to the best of us.”

Jungkook walks out of the car, heads over to your door, and as usual he helps you out while reaching for your backpack and your cheer bag so he can carry them for you.

Clementine’s sitting in the kitchen, working diligently on her math homework.

“Tina!” Jungkook sings, setting down your bag on the couch. You walk over with him to her, and she has a bright smile on her face when she sees the two of you together.

“Hi!” She responds, “I’ve got something to tell you guys!”

“What is it?” You ask, sitting next to her and taking a peek at her worksheet. It’s something about fractions.

“I think I have a crush!”

“Holy-“ You stop yourself before you can say anything bad, “Uh, wow, Clem!”

“Yeah, wow…”

You and Jungkook look at each other with somewhat sad eyes. He may not have known her for as long as you have, but he feels the same, strange dull pain that you’re feeling in your chest.

Your little sister isn’t so little anymore.

Tonight was going to be a long one.

Late night conversations with Jungkook at your dormer window have become a regular thing.

It’s the moments where fatigue starts to really hit the two of you that you have the most fun with him. There’s no shame in what you say, and no judgement stemming from one another. During then, it’s just you, Jungkook, the occasional plate of pizza and snacks, and the moon.

“I can’t believe she has a crush already,” You muse, a hint of melancholy in your tone.

“She’s 12, Y/N.”

“That’s still too young, don’t you think?”

“How old were you when you had one?”

“I think,” You pause, sorting out your vague childhood memories, “In Kindergarten, maybe?”

“My point exactly.”

You curse under your breath as you’re obviously defeated. You hate when logic is used against you. Jungkook just laughs, performing his usual habit of rubbing his nose and jerking his head so his hair can stay out of his eyes. Both of you are leaning on either side of the alcove and the window is slightly open so that you can hear the regular music of crickets outside. A light gush of wind blows through, gently shifting around random strands of your hair.

Jungkook’s yet again scrolling through his phone, looking at funny memes on Instagram and sending them to the group chat titled: “Namjoon’s Angels” that he so cleverly named. Your phone buzzes multiple times, and when you turn it on, 4 notifications from the said group chat appear on your screen. They’re all from him. You look at the boy in front of you and he’s got a delighted smile on, eyes crinkled up into crescent moons while he’s so focused on whatever’s on his phone.

“We’re in the same room, Kook,” You say, showing your screen to him, and Jungkook’s a bit surprised at the nickname, but he quickly shoots you a fake glare before going back to his own phone.

“Those aren’t just for you, princess,” He retorts, tapping away on his screen, “Those are for Joon and Hoseok too.”

Your phone buzzes once more, and this time it’s a notification from just Jungkook.

[November 15, 10:40  PM] jeon.jk on Instagram *Sent a post* [November 15, 10:40 PM] jeon.jk on Instagram This one’s for you! :)

Upon opening the chat, you’re met with an obscure picture of-

[November 15, 10:41] y/nnnn_ beans? jeon.jk Beans.

You send him a questioning look, and Jungkook squeakily laughs, almost out of breath by how funny he thinks the picture is.

jeon.jk Do you not like it? I think it’s rather nice.

The most surprising thing you’ve discovered about Jungkook is that he’s quite the articulate texter, which is a weird juxtaposition from his usual character. It’s certainly the strangest thing you’ve known about him.

y/nnnn_ it’s quite off putting jeon.jk :(

“I’m right in front of you,” You declare, turning off your phone and putting it on the cushion. Jungkook rolls his eyes, but nonetheless does the same.

“But that’s no fun.”

“You’re so weird, you know that?”

“I like to think I’m pleasant to be around.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. He sticks his tongue out at you before looking out the window.

“Are you going to the football game tomorrow night?”

“Kook.”

“What?”

“I’m on the cheer team…”

“Oh,” His lips form a small, tight circle and then spread into a sheepish smile once he connects the dots, “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He starts, “Anyways, did you get invited to the party after?”

“At Taehyung’s?” You ask, and he nods, “I did, yeah.”

“You gonna go?”

You bite your lip, deep in thought over the question. Hoseok got invited too, and he was begging you to go because you hadn’t talked to Namjoon enough, save for whenever he asks you where Hoseok is after school.

While it would be a good idea to come along and really start to get to know your best friend’s crush, you could already tell that it wouldn’t slide with your parents.

“There’d be no one to babysit Clementine,” You reason, “I mean I’d love to, but yeah…”

Jungkook visibly deflates, so much so that he looks like a cartoon character. You suppress a laugh, an apology coming out instead so that you don’t make him feel any worse.

“No, I get it,” He sighs, shoulders slumped down, “It’s no worries then. We’ll still see each other after the game, then, right?”

“If you really want to, sure.”

“I want to.”

You smile at him, and Jungkook mirrors you, a toothy grin flashing your way.

Your favorite moments with your unconventional, newfound friend are during the late nights, because of times like this. Around you and around him, the world is soft and light. There’s a calming simplicity when you’re talking to Jungkook, and your chest constantly feels light and fluttery. His lame jokes become funnier, and your words towards him become kinder.

Even though it’s dark, the nights seem to shed light on who the two of you really are and how you two really feel about each other.

There’s no malice, no ill intentions towards each other either. You like being there with him. Time isn’t an obstacle, which is something you’ve always felt slipped out of your hands like fine sand. The world just comes to a standstill, both of you trying to talk as much as you can before your parents come home.

For you, time has been a nuisance. You lose sleep while you hunched over your desk, working on assignments because the night is the only freetime you have. Because of that (and so that you can peacefully talk to Jungkook whenever he babysits), you simply just do your homework in the morning. Your alone time is always cut short, since you’re swamped with cheer, homework, and family obligations.

You hated how time ran out.

After all, your time with Jimin had run out.

But when you’re sitting on the cushion in your alcove with Jungkook, you slowly but surely start to adjust to the ever changing world around you. Sure, you feel guilty about constantly dumping your emotional baggage to someone you’ve just become friends with after two years of having pure hatred for them, but time and time again he’s always reassured you, telling you that he really didn’t mind you venting to him.

It’s not like Jungkook was your only option, since you always had Hoseok to rant to. But seeing Hoseok happy made you happy, and you didn’t want to ruin it by being a complete pity party.

So yeah, maybe Jungkook was the only option you had. You didn’t really mind either, since Jungkook had his fair share of problems that he’d talk to you about. There was no point in feeling bad at all, actually. There was a fair exchange of listening and venting between both sides.

You did find having an issue to restrain yourself around him. Everytime he spoke about his brother, you just wanted to jump into his arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. Even more so when his voice cracked and slowly turned into silent whispers and warbled mumbles. Your heart always broke when he would start blinking more and more so that his tears wouldn't come out. Sometimes, when things really got rough, he’d let a few ones fall, but he always followed it up with forced laughter and a strained smile.

It always made you wonder if he was hiding anything else from you.

“Wait, Y/N,” He says, raising a pointer finger up, “You can go to the party!”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you forget?” He asks, seeing how confused you are, “I’m Tina’s babysitter.”

“I didn’t forget that…?”

“I’m gonna be at the game, cause, y’know, I’m, yeah,” He explains, “Your parents are gonna have to stay at home regardless.”

You stare at him blankly as it registers in your head that there’s nothing stopping you from going to Taehyung’s infamous house parties.

“You’re right,” You mumble, “Sorry, I must be tired.”

“When’d you sleep last night?”

“Yesterday?” You stare up at the ceiling while you try to remember the other night, “4… I think?”

Jungkook shakes his head at you, ashamed.

“What’d I say about sleeping late?” He wags a finger at you, “You’re gonna ruin yourself if you keep doing that.”

“Okay, thanks, mom,” You snicker.

He then changes the topic, now complaining about the very same paper that you stayed up late to work on. You added on to his ranting, speaking your own mind as well.

The conversation is stopped abruptly when you hear knocking. Jungkook and you turn from each other to see your parents standing at the doorway. Neither of you had even heard the garage opening, or your parents walking upstairs.  

They’ve got tired, but happy smiles on their faces, and it comforts you knowing that they’re starting to iron out whatever issues they're going through. Your mom waves at you two and you echo her movements.

“Ah, I gotta go, then.”

Jungkook swiftly gets up from the alcove, grabbing his jacket that was resting on your desk chair. He greets you goodbye and then does the same with your parents, your dad walking him to the door. When both of the boys leave, your mom joins you, replacing Jungkook’s spot. She smells of steak and has a faint scent of wine about her. The relaxed, blissful state she’s in tells you that she’s intoxicated right now.

“Glad you had a fun night out,” You say, a soft smile on your lips.

“I quite like Jungkook,” She seems to not have heard your words, “Don’t you?”

“He’s nice, yeah.”

“He reminds me of your dad.”

She’s definitely a lot more drunk than you thought she was.

“Let’s get you in bed, mom,” You chuckle, standing up and helping her, “I think that’s enough for today.”

When you take her to her room and she staggers over to sit in her bed, you say goodnight to her. She responds, and you know very well that she’s most likely going to fall asleep with her dress on. You decide that your dad could handle that.

After getting ready for bed and crawling under your covers, your mind starts to wander, fixated on the idea of Jungkook and your dad being similar.

You can’t find a single distinct comparison between the two of them, but then your mind travels to the topic of your parents when they were younger. When they weren’t dating and they just knew each other as neighbors. Were they nice to each other?

Was there ever a time where they hated each other?

In between the many questions traveling through your mind, you start to enter the deep limbo of being half asleep and half awake. This doesn’t stop your curiosity about your parents story, as you see the two of them in your dreams. A young version of your mom bickering with your dad.

Then, it suddenly flashes to you walking with Jungkook in the hallways of high school, talking and bickering like you usually do.

Despite being heavily sleep deprived, you actually have a good night’s rest for once.

It’s Friday, which meant one thing and one thing only. It’s game day.

And although you complain about how sore your muscles are after practice and how you hate staying after school for so long, but when you’re sitting on the track, listening to the shouts from the student section and watching the football get tossed back and forth between players, you can’t help but be excited for halftime. You even become immersed in the sport, intently watching the boys tackle their way through the field. Half of the time you’re not completely sure about what’s going on, but you definitely were having fun sitting with Hoseok and watching the football teams brawl for a simple leather ball.

You had to admit it. There really was something magical about football games.

It was the way the grass smelt of rain and sweat, the way you could hear nothing but excitement from the crowds of students in the student section, the way that everyone was donning the school’s signature colors of purple and gold. The energy tonight is explosive, and you relish in every single section of it.

Your teammates are focused on the game and on themselves, making sure they remember the routines you have been practicing for months. But you, on the other hand, have separated yourself from the group of girls standing on the track and talking to each other. Instead, your focus is stuck on Jungkook.

Watching him on the field is like magic.

You don’t mean to, but your eyes follow him as he rushes past the opposing team, pushing past everyone effortlessly. He knows exactly when to keep the ball clutched closely to his chest or when to throw it to his fellow teammate, and he defends himself against the opposition, turning his back against them in order to protect himself from their tackles. It’s all like clockwork, like Jungkook could predict the other team’s movements. Even though you’re far from him, you notice the way he scans the field, so much so that you can see the gears turning in his mind. He’s got a whole map of the field and the teams in his head, creating a strategy right on the fly. All to get a touchdown.

Jungkook may be the big-headed goofball who used to enjoy annoying you, but he was a completely different person on the field. He’s someone determined and clever, and he doesn’t show off or become cocky when he’s on the field. Instead, he looks out for his own teammates and becomes a real leader.

You see this when Kim Taehyung, one of the running backs, gets tackled and crashes straight onto the turf, his helmet thudding quite loudly. Before Jungkook grabs the ball in Taehyung’s hands, he gives a quick tap on the running back’s helmet as a simple way of telling him that he’s doing a good job. To tell him to not give up and to get back on his feet. It’s a barely visible gesture that no one in the crowd would notice. It’s basically insignificant to… anyone, really. But you feel your heart soften when you figure out what the gesture meant.

Then you sit up, slightly, because his eyes meet yours and suddenly all the air in your chest has decided to leave. The crease in his eyebrows disappears and he’s beaming at you.

What amazes you is that Jungkook still has the ball secure in his hands, shoving his way through the hordes of players like they’re nothing.

You wonder what it’d be like to see Jungkook running up close. It’s hard to see from this distance, but you can see how the sheen of sweat glosses his skin. There was no doubt that he was muscular and you knew that, because you saw him every single day, but tonight his body is even more defined. They flex as he moves, biceps bulging because he’s clutching onto the ball so tightly.

You’re unaware of the way your thoughts travel to Jungkook being sweaty and hot on the field. Somehow it makes you feel like you’re betraying everything you’ve stood for by thinking like this, but instead of creating an even greater inner conflict between yourself and your conscience, you give up and continue to spectate the game.

(If by the game, you mean Jungkook.)

It isn’t until you decide to give him a small wave that he stumbles. He passes the ball to Kim Seokjin, the receiver, and quickly gets up on his own feet before he can fall on the ground. The opposition’s focus is now moved onto Seokjin, and so is Jungkook’s.

Seokjin reaches the end of the field. He scores a touchdown, and the crowd goes wild. The roaring sounds like music to your ears and you stand up, cheering along with your friends to congratulate your team. You beam when you see Jungkook running alongside the receiver, genuine grins on the boys’ faces. You feel proud, but you’re not entirely sure about what.

“We’re gonna kill it soon, Y/N!” Hoseok grins, and you mirror him, a happy smile on your face as well. He’s also too focused on memorizing the steps in his head to notice that you’ve been drooling over your little sister’s babysitter.

“I mean, duh,” You dramatically flip your hair over your shoulder, making the both of you giggle.

People say that cheerleading is such an outdated sport, but you actually loved it with your entire heart. You’ve created many lasting friendships with the girls (and Hoseok, of course) on your team, and the cheer squad was the exact reason why you had a somewhat reputation at school. It was basically the only thing that kept you going during the 3 years of high school you’ve gone through, and you’re sure that it’ll be the only thing keeping you sane for the rest of your years at this hellhole of a school.

Well, that was a topic for another day.

Because before you can have another existential crisis about the fact that you’re already on your junior year of high school—you haven’t figured out exactly what you want to do with your life—and that time has really slipped you by, the timer on the big, chunky, outdated metal screen ticks down. A bold, orange “0:00” appears, signalling that it’s halftime. The football teams slow down and head back to their respective sides, getting ready to take a break while the cheerleading squad gets ready for action.

When all of the boys are seated at their benches, some of them guzzling water or simply just catching their breath, you, Hoseok, and the rest of the girls make your way onto the turf. The speaker announces your team, staticky voice emitting from the speakers and filling the air.

It’s go time.

You all huddle in a circle, hyping yourselves up with team chants. It’s invigorating, being with all of your friends, getting ready to present the routine you had been trying to perfect for the past few months. You step into the circle, and the girls lift you up, throwing you up in the air. As you’re thrown, you let the force move you, your body twirling around. You land gracefully back into their arms, and the crowd goes wild once again.

The cheerleaders grab their pom poms that are lying on the turf and they get into position. Everyone places their hands on their hips, smiles forming on all of your faces as the crowd simmers down to get ready for the show. A beat starts from the drum line, and you all wave your pom poms in the air, the tinsel-like material sounding almost like rain as they swivel in circular motions. You scan the crowds, looking at all the different students sitting together.

Then your eyes meet, and your face falters.

Park Jimin is sitting in the bleachers, beaming at the Sophomore on the cheer team. You’re rudely reminded of her sitting on his lap in the back of his car, and your eyes become hazy as you try to save face.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Hoseok whispers, “He’s not worth it.”

You nod, averting your focus from Jimin. This was the final football game of the season. You had to make the most of it, and you weren’t going to let him get in the way of it.

The cheer captain starts with a “5, 6, 7, 8,” and the rest of you follow her chants.

The routine starts with a high kick and a right punch up, followed with another high kick and then a strict order of arm positions along with a few more kicks that you all execute with style. Some of the girls move to the front, doing backflips to entertain the crowd. The flyers, bases, and spotters, get ready for extensions while the girls in the front keep the student section preoccupied.

Hoseok is assigned as one of your bases, and two other girls—a base and a back spotter—get into formation along with him. They lift you up carefully, steadying you right away as you're raised up. The other flyers are lifted up, too, and you sigh in relief knowing that everyone did their extensions easily. You flash bright smiles to the crowd and they all scream, cheering you on as well. Your combined shouts add even more energy to what was already an electric game.

The cheer is something cheesy about having more spirit than the other team, and the words are really cringy at points, but you don’t care. You’d shout them to the ends of the earth for all you cared. What mattered was the way the student section responded with almost double the enthusiasm. Kids are hollering, practically jumping out of their seats and yelling as they repeat the school’s signature lyrics. There’s nothing but pure excitement for the game, the football team, and the cheerleaders.

You’re lowered down for a few minutes by the bases only to be thrown up quickly. Keeping your stomach tight and your arms stiff, you fall back into the arms of the cheerleaders underneath you. It’s a perfect execution of a cradle, and you’re practically glowing with pride for your team. It’s obvious that the coaches would praise you all at the next practice. The crowd goes crazy for your team as well. Once you’re placed on the ground, it’s your turn to perform flips and high kicks, and you carry out the rest of the routine effortlessly.

Staring at the crowd, you take in how everyone is smiling at you and your team, impressed at the stunts you all pulled off in such a small time frame. Their eyes are shimmering with pride and you’re certain that their throats have gone raw from all their hoots and hollers. The night sky is painted black, but the atmosphere you’re in is far from dull. The crowds are colored purple and gold, matching your uniform and the football players’ uniforms. There are kids from different cliques, but they’re all sitting together and cheering, showing the solidarity a school could have.

You hold on to the moment for as long as you can, your chest heaving up and down as you pose confidently when the routine is done. Hoseok looks at you with immense pride and you do the same, both of you practically radiating out there on the field.

Eventually, halftime is over and you’re back to sitting on the track. You’re sweaty, but you don’t care. You know you did amazing and that was worth it.

A wave of uneasiness hits your chest when you see the sophomore rush over to her backpack to check her phone. She grins at her screen before running over to your coach, using some lame excuse so she can leave. After that, she rushes out, and you see Jimin following suit.

You plan to see what they’re doing, but Hoseok grabs your wrist, already knowing what you were going to do.

“Y/N,” His voice is stern, “I love you. Don’t.”

“But-“

“It’s not a good idea. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Some of your nerves fade away when Hoseok demands that you’ll get pictures with him, even if both of you are drenched in sweat. He reasons that it’s because you rarely have any pictures with him. But isn’t that the sign of true friendship? Not being able to have pictures because you’re either having too much fun together or the both of you look so ugly you can’t even bear to have a photo taken? You use that reasoning with Hoseok and he simply pinches your cheek, telling you that you’re insufferable and forcing one of your teammates to take your pictures.

When the game is almost done, the sophomore is nowhere to be seen.

You see your coach asking around the other girls, but they all respond with a shrug. Hoseok keeps you distracted by talking about the new friend group you’ve created with him, Namjoon, and Jungkook. Then, he starts to talk about Namjoon and the latest “date but not date” that they had last weekend. You realize you’ve never wanted to talk about Namjoon more than ever before.

While he’s gushing, you look at the photos you’ve taken with your best friend. A satisfied smile finds its way on your face when you see that they ended up a million times better than you thought it would. Hoseok also admires them while you swipe through the many new pictures in your camera roll.

“Told you it’d end up good.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You decide that you’d post your favorite ones, since you haven’t put anything new on your Instagram.

You tap on the app, planning to create a draft to post tomorrow. To your surprise, though, a new post from Jimin appears on your timeline. It’s a picture of the girl in his car. She has a bright smile on her face, her cheeks tinted a rosy pink.

Under the picture there’s a blue heart.

You’re reminded of all of the posts he had of you that had the exact same caption. You frown. Blue was your favorite color.

You go to his page, and all of your photos from before are gone. You’re frozen in your spot. Your mouth feels incredibly dry and a hard, rough lump forms in your throat. Your eyes start to sting, and the pain you thought you’ve forgotten about has come back twice as strong.

Hoseok notices this and you hand him his phone.

“Y/N… I’m so sorry.”

“I’m gonna,” You wipe your eyes and fan away the moisture so you don’t mess up your mascara, “I’m gonna go home after this.”

“Do whatever you need to,” He says, patting your head so you can rest your head on his shoulder, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You text your parents, asking them to drive you home.

The game is slow, dull, and boring, but after such an excruciatingly long wait, it finally ends. Once it’s over, you’re immediately walking out and making your way to your parents car. You ignore all of the students around you, pushing your way through them.

You also ignore Jungkook, who’s been running after you right when the game ends but loses you in the crowd.

When you come home, the car ride with your mom consisting of you breaking down and your mom comforting you, your mom quickly takes you to the bathroom, drawing a warm bath for you. She closes the door so neither Clementine or your dad can see the state you’re in, and she drops in a few drops of lavender into the steamy water. You hastily take off your uniform and your makeup, wanting nothing more than to get in the tub.

Shutting your eyes, you allow yourself to feel the warm water soaking your skin. The oil she added to the bath creates a pleasant scent to the steam, and your lips curve upward when you get a whiff of it. You rest your head against the edge of the porcelain surface, eyes getting hazy as the scent of lavender drowns out your senses. Your mother puts her hands through your hair, massaging your head with shampoo.

If your mother was being this gentle, this nice to you, then this was really serious.

When she plants a loving kiss on your forehead, humming sweetly, you feel your lip quiver. You were tired. This was your breaking point. You couldn’t take it anymore. Warbled, shrill sobs escape from your lips and you’ve lost all notions of self control. Your mom holds you close to her, indifferent to the soap suds and water soaking her shirt.

“Sometimes change is necessary for growth,” She says as you cry everything out.

“It hurts,” Your words come in between gasps.

“I know, darling, I promise you that you’ll find someone who truly deserves your love.”

“...Really?”

“Yes, and, you know, I already know one person who deserves it.”

“Who?”

“You.”

You hang onto every word she says, hoping that they’re actually true.

[November 16, 9:35 PM] Jungkook Hey, is everything okay? I tried talking to you after the game but I couldn’t find you Why is that? You don’t have to tell me, just wanted to know if you were okay I’ll tell Joon you say hi later tonight. He was really excited to hang out with you Sorry, I must be spamming your phone Anyways, just wanna say you did great tonight

Read at: 10:01 PM

[November 19, 4:02] Jungkook You didn’t show up to school today I think this is actually the first time you’ve skipped school Let me know if you need the homework or anything Read at: 4:10

You tap out of the conversation and put your phone face down on your nightstand. Tossing around in the bed, the sheets are uncomfortably hot around your sweaty skin. Your room is humid, since you’ve been doing nothing but lay in your bed for the past 3 days. Your eyelids slowly droop downward while you attempt to remove yourself from the throbbing pain in your head.

A slow, soft creak emits from your door. You open your eyes to see your sister, holding a tray with a cup of water and a grilled cheese sandwich. She still has her school clothes on.

“We ran out of soup,” She says, walking over to you.

You give her a weak smile, shifting over so she can sit next to you.

“Thank you, Clem.”

She sits up straight, expectantly watching you eat. She waits for your reaction, and your lips curve up naturally while you chew, she lets out the breath she’s unconsciously been holding in.

“Are you… doing okay?”

“I’ll be alright,” You nod, and then you roll up the sleeve of your hoodie to flex your bare arm, “Your sister’s strong.”

Clementine giggles and she leans back, resting her head on your shoulder. Her hair tickles your skin, but you don’t care. The grilled cheese in your mouth tastes absolutely amazing—most likely because you haven’t eaten anything since a bowl of soup yesterday.

“I never…” She starts, but then stops. You reassure her that she can tell you whatever she wants, and with a deep breath, she continues, “I never really… liked him.”

“Hm?”

“Jimin. I never liked him,” Her words lower into a nervous whisper. You wonder how long she’s been holding it in. She looks up at you once more, “Sometimes I could hear when you guys talked on the phone.”

Your initial response is to be angry, but there’s no point to. It wasn’t her fault that your rooms were so close to each other. Clementine scoots down so that she can rest her head on your chest, and you wrap your arms around her.

“He was kinda mean,” She sighs, “And I didn’t like how he talked to you.”

You nod. There was a truth in her words. You imagine what she thought hearing you cry behind a closed door, hearing you freak out because Jimin would end the call on you randomly when you mentioned Hoseok. Thinking back on it, Jimin was quite possessive when the two of you were together. Quite ironic.

“He’s like Gaston.”

“Gaston?”

“Yeah, full of himself,” She spits bitterly, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen your sister speak negatively towards someone, “Only likes you ‘cause you’re pretty. Gets mad if you don’t give him something when he’s nice to you.”

Despite her dulled down description of Jimin, her words are a rude awakening for you. It’s as if you were roughly picked up and dropped into a cold, freezing bath, the frigid water creating an abrupt awareness of the reality of your past relationship. The reality was that Jimin was terrible to you, and no matter how many times you tried to label it nicely, tried to dumb it down so you yourself could swallow it easily, the truth is that whatever the two of you had wasn’t love.

It hits you that you really don’t know anything about love.

“You deserve someone better than Jimin.”

“You can say that again,” You chuckle, but Clementine cranes her neck and looks at you with burning eyes.

“No, I mean it,” She huffs, “He was terrible-“

“I know, I know, Clem,” You give her a light, reassuring smile, “But we’ll figure that out later, ‘kay? Right now it’s just you and me.”

“Yeah,” She relaxes, resting on you again, “I’d like that.”

You pinch her cheek before speaking again.

“So, you wanna tell me more about the new guy?”

She hides herself in your embrace instantly. Her new crush, Lucas, seemed quite nice from what she tells you.

The rest of your day is spent with Clementine over board games, movies, and cookies, and from how she eagerly spills out everything to you, you realize just how much she’s held from you, afraid to bother you since you “had a lot on her plate”. You secretly promise her that you’d be there for her more, that you’d forever be a shoulder to cry on for her from now on.

It’s almost funny, how a breakup forced you into having a better relationship with your sister.

When the night falls and you’re in Clementine’s room with her, ready to say goodnight, she musters enough courage to say something else to you.

“I like Jungkook.”

“I know, so does everyone,” You reply, suddenly remembering the multiple text messages from him that you’ve ignored.

Would he be upset with you? You decide that you’ll deal with that later.

“I like the way he looks at you.”

“What do you mean?” You questioningly state, taking the covers and putting it over her body. Even though she’s already 12, you don’t think you’ll ever stop tucking her in. She doesn’t object, either, eagerly accepting your advances and pulling the covers over so only her head pops out.

“He kinda,” She yawns, “He looks at you different.”

“Different?” You chuckle lightly, reaching out to turn off her lamp.

“Yeah,” She slowly closes her eyes, “Like how Dad looks at Mom.”

You freeze in place at her words, but then you quickly shake it off. She was most likely dreaming.

“You must be tired, Clem,” You mumble, “You should sleep.”

“Yeah, I should.”

You leave Clementine so she can sleep peacefully. With the absence of her around you comes the presence of an underlying issue that you never noticed was in your life.

When did Jungkook ever come into the equation?

Returning to your habit of tossing and turning around uncomfortably in your own bed, your mind tackles the notion of what your true feelings are for Jungkook.

Was he a bad person? Certainly not, from what you’ve learned. Were you guys friends? Yes, you were, obviously, from all the conversations you’ve had at your window.

Staring at said window, you imagine Jungkook sitting there, with his wide grin and his tousled, chestnut hair. You can almost smell the scent of his laundry detergent on your nose. His laugh rings in your ears, soft, breathy chuckles sounding almost like a melody to you. You think of all the times he’s walked you to your classes, dropping you off to your room before rushing on over to his own class that was on the other side of the building. He’s never told you, but you know that he’s always late to class because of you. This revealed itself because you’d see Jungkook hastily walking over to the attendance office to get tardy slips for his teacher.

You chuckle at the thought. It never registered in his head that the office was in the hallway of your 6th hour, so whenever he gets a slip you’ll see him pass by your doorway.

An image of Jungkook with Clementine flashes in your mind when you close your eyes. You see him dancing goofily with her to some Spanish song you’re not familiar with, all so that Clementine will be comfortable dancing around him. You take in how he smiles at her, how he looks at her so happily, and how he’s so eager to embarrass himself because he just likes seeing her laugh.

Then, when you close your eyes, you see Jungkook looking at you. His eyes are soft, and there’s something there you can’t really describe. It makes you feel safe, makes you feel like you can put your guard down around him. You notice that whenever your eyes meet his, there’s a bright, warm smile on his face.

A light, fluttery feeling hits your chest, but it’s far too faint for it to be significant, you think. You brush it off as something trivial. Jungkook was your friend, and that was that.

He was nothing more and nothing less, thank you very much.

[November 20, 12:30 AM] Y/N sorry for not texting back haven’t been feeling well i’ll be back tmrw, tho you got time to talk after school tmrw? we could get burgers or something [November 20, 12:31 AM] Jungkook Of course, yeah It’s no worries btw, Y/N Just wanna know you’re okay. I’m driving you I’m guessing? Y/N yeah there’s no one else who will, lol

Going back to school is a little rough, and although you only missed one day, you were already toppled with absent work and new lessons that you had to teach yourself.

But every worry seemed to disappear when you finally got to the diner with Jungkook. During this, you explain everything to him, stuffing your mouth with the fries that you loved so much. Jungkook listens to every single word you say, gnawing down on his bowl of mac n’ cheese.

“That’s so shitty of him.”

You can sense the anger in his tone.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” You shrug, pulling your strawberry smoothie close to you so you can take a sip, “Not my place anymore.”

Jungkook redacts what he was about to say, only nodding as to make sure he doesn’t speak over you.

“Sorry about not responding,” You mumble, and he shakes his head profusely.

“No, no, I get it,” He smiles fondly at you, “Don’t be sorry. I’m here for you, okay?”

It amazes you how understanding he can be. Seems like just yesterday he was chewing gum obnoxiously in your ears, blowing bubbles and popping them in hopes that the sound would destroy your eardrums.

Jungkook fills you in on what you had missed yesterday, already offering to help you if you need any help. The two of you spend the time at the diner talking about anything and everything, and things somewhat feel normal for once.

You wish that everything could stay just like this in the diner, where Jungkook is sitting in front of you, cracking lame jokes left and right and you’re laughing so hard that you can’t even be bothered to breathe anymore.

A few weeks pass, and you’ve slowly started to adjust to the “new normal” of your life. But this was only because you had such amazing friends to help you out whenever you saw Jimin with his new girlfriend. Hoseok has been there for you and always will be, Jungkook constantly has new jokes up his sleeve that he’s constantly waiting to use, and even though you’re not that close with Namjoon just yet, you’ve learned just how kindhearted he is.

This is because when you told him the whole story of you and Jimin, he started sending you pretty flowers every single day. Those were Namjoon’s “cheer up” texts that gave you a soft comfort when you received them.

Slowly but surely, your regular diner dates with Hoseok have turned into full on hangouts with the other two boys. Jungkook would drive you, while Namjoon would take Hoseok. Usually, though, your hangouts would consist of you and Jungkook losing your appetites over how sweet Namjoon and Hoseok are to each other. There wasn’t one time where Jungkook wouldn’t roll his eyes to you when Namjoon would compliment Hoseok’s hair, and you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve lost it over Hoseok pinching Namjoon’s cheek whenever he teases him.

It’s still a complete shocker to the both of you that they’re only friends.

But you honestly wouldn’t change your new friend group for the world. Albeit sort of dysfunctional and unconventional, you all worked together nicely.

Things slowly came together piece by piece, and you felt that maybe your life would continue on peacefully, just how you wanted it to.

However, today is different.

After school, Hoseok asks you if the two of you can hang out one on one, just like before, and of course you agree, because you had to admit that you did miss spending time with just him. So you expect it to be a fun filled Friday afternoon with Hoseok. Maybe you’d hear him rant about Namjoon being clueless for the umpteenth time without ever acknowledging how oblivious he is himself.

What you expect, however, is very different from your reality, because when Hoseok and you walk out of the school building and into the parking lot, you’re met with a pretty sizable crowd. There’s kids, mostly boys, pointing their cameras and you hear multiple shouts and cheers from the crowds.

You’re about to stealthily dodge the crowd and head over to Hoseok’s car, but then a gap forms in between a few students and your jaw hits the ground.

“Fuck you,” Jungkook spits, his familiar voice confirming your suspicions.

The other boys spur him on, yelling out incoherent words that you can’t decipher. You grab Hoseok by the wrist and pull him over to the crowd.

Getting a closer look at the scene, you and Hoseok give each other a scared, concerned glance. Jungkook has Jimin on the pavement, landing multiple brutal punches across his face. Jimin, whose eyes have turned hazy, has blood coming out of his nose, and if Jungkook lands one last punch, Jimin is bound to have a broken nose (if he already didn’t).

It’s a good thing, though, that the principal suddenly appears, pushing past everyone and splitting the two boys up. Jungkook and Jimin are both sitting up now, tattered and beaten down. Jungkook wipes away the blood on his mouth, while Jimin tries to catch his breath, his chest heaving up and down heavily. His face is screwed up in agony and you wince upon seeing the newly formed black eye that he’s sporting.

Jungkook doesn’t look any better either. He’s got bruises all over him, and a handful of deep cuts and scrapes from falling on the ground. He has blood on his sweatshirt, and you can’t tell if it’s his or Jimin’s.

The crowd disperses, students not wanting to get involved with the authorities. You and Hoseok stay, however, because Namjoon appears out of nowhere, his arms crossed and a tired look on his face while he assesses the damage. The principal pulls them away by their collars in order to create distance from the three of you standing there. Once there’s a reasonable space between all of you, he begins to mouth them off.

“He made jokes about it but I never thought it’d happen,” He sighs, rubbing his temples, “I got the principle once I saw what was going on. I was too late.”

“What’s gonna happen?” You ask, voice coming out in a weak whisper.

“They’ll both be expelled for a little bit,” Namjoon strokes his chin.

“Expelled?” Hoseok gasps in disbelief, “Don’t you mean suspended?” 

“The fight’s on school grounds, and they were both deliberately violent,” Namjoon explains, “If Jungkook had only made a threat to do it, then he’d be suspended. Expulsions last much longer than suspensions, based on what the principal will think is a fit punishment for the kids.”

Leave it to Kim Namjoon to know the school’s rulebook like the back of his hand.

“What’ll happen with sports?”

“Now that, I’m also not entirely sure,” Namjoon answers, and you can see the gears turning in his head, “Let’s hope the coaches will even be willing to talk to them.”

Jungkook makes eye contact with you and although he’s tired, he seems to have sobered up. You stare at him with shocked, disappointed eyes, and he looks down at his feet, like a dog who just got scolded by his owner. He rubs his nose, taking a deep breath and choosing to just listen to what the principal has to say.

What could have possibly compelled Jungkook to beat Jimin into a pulp?

The next night you see Jungkook at your door, the bruises and cuts on his skin somewhat faint, but still apparent.

“Um, hi,” His eyes bounce around from you then to the ground, “Listen, Y/N, I-“

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You hiss at him, coming out of the house and closing the door behind you.

“What?”

“Don’t you realize what you did yesterday?” You say, “Because of that you got fucking expelled!”

“That’s what I was here to talk about,” He explains.

“There was literally no reason for you to do that, Kook.”

“Y/N, if you were there, you’d understand.”

“No, Jungkook, no,” You shake your head, “I get it, Jimin’s an asshole. That doesn’t mean you need to beat him up for it!”

“Y/N,” He sighs, visibly irritated, “If you would just let me tell you why-“

“There’s no point, Jungkook!” You throw your hands up in the air while you yell at him, “You’re expelled! Do you even know if you can play football anymore?”

He bites his tongue, giving you a perfect answer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Y/N,” He grabs your wrists, forcing you to look at him, “If you had just heard the things he said about you, you’d get it. Please, I just wanted to talk to you and apologize. Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t mean to.”

He’s pitiful before you and you feel your anger rise.

“Y/N, he said such shitty things about you.”

“I don’t give a shit!” You retort, pulling away from him,  “I don’t need you beating up people for me, Jungkook. Do you really think I’m that weak?”

His eyes widen and he’s at a loss for words.

“No, Y/N, I never said that,” He reasons, “I just didn’t want him to talk about you like that anymore. You guys aren’t even together anymore. I was fed up.”

“Don’t you think there’s other ways you could handle that? Maybe you could, I don’t know, ignore it?”

“Y/N, please,” He pleads, exasperated, “I know this sounds stupid, but I really couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry, I just-“

“Do you really think I’m that helpless?” You scoff, “That I can’t handle when someone speaks of me badly? That you have to do everything for me?”

“No-“

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“I know,” He mumbles, “I couldn’t control my anger.”

“Yeah, that’s apparent,” You deadpan, crossing your arms, “I don’t need you to fight my fights for me, Jungkook. That’s not how it works.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” You spit, “If you had known that, then you wouldn’t have done anything.”

It’s an awkward position to be in, fighting with Jungkook at your front porch in the middle of a cold, December night, but you’re too heated to care. You ignore how you can see your breath come out in a light fog whenever you speak.

There’s a thin covering of snow everywhere, and you’re glad that you consistently wear a hoodie and sweatpants as pajamas in both summer and winter. Some snowflakes are resting on Jungkook’s head, leaving delicate white, sparkling dots in his hair. Matched with his red nose and red ears, you’d almost say he was adorable if you weren’t cussing him out right now.

“Why would you even think that was okay? Why would you do that?”

“Y/N… I…” He sputters out, “I just…”

“You just what? You think I’m so weak that I can’t handle my own problems?” You roll your eyes, “You’re unbelievable, Jungkook. You really think that I’m that weak?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“You don’t get it do you?” He scoffs.

“What do you mean?”

“I did it because I couldn’t stand to hear him talking shit about you.”

“Why couldn’t you? It’s not your issue. It’s mine, and quite frankly-“

“It’s because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” He yells out, then coughs once his confession registers in his head, “I couldn’t… I didn’t want to hear him anymore.”

HIs words make your breath catch in your throat. Your heart stops, and Jungkook stares up at you nervously. You step away from, shaking your head profusely.

“No, you’re not,” You breathe out, “You’re really not.”

“I know it’s super wrong to say this now, I just,” He scratches the nape of his neck, “I guess I felt that I needed to tell you.”

“You barely even know me,” You say, and you can’t explain why tears well up in your eyes. You wipe them away, “Go home, Jungkook. It’s late.”

You’re about to go back into the house but Jungkook’s words make you stop dead in your tracks.

“I know that you’re ass at drawing,” He prompts, “You’re also shit at singing, but you do both anyways, because you think it’s fun.”

“Kook-“

“You say that you don’t do much in your freetime, but I know that you spend all of your time hanging out with Tina whenever you can, because you care about her that much,” He states, “I also know that you secretly really like Monopoly, even though you’re fuckin’ clueless on how to play it. Most of the time you go bankrupt, but even then you’re happy playing that. You’re the only person I know who’s like that.”

You’re speechless as Jungkook begins to list off specific details about you that even you don’t know.

“You always try to twirl your pencil in class, but every single time you get embarrassed when you drop it on your desk and everyone looks at you.”

“Jungkook, don’t do this,” You turn around, “Listen, you don’t know what it’d be like to be with me. You wouldn’t like it.”

“Who says that?”

“Me,” You say, “I’m still confused about everything. It’d be bad for both you and me. And plus, what if I’m not over Jimin? You wouldn’t want that. You wouldn’t like being with me.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Huh?”

“Because I’m set, Y/N,” Jungkook declares, “From the moment I really got to know you, I figured that I wanted you for the rest of my life. And I’ll wait for you for as long as you need me to.”

“There’s no way you can be so sure.”

“I can feel it, Y/N,” His words are desperate as he tries to reason with you, “It’s different with you. I’m different when I’m with you. I’m happy.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do know, Y/N!” He shouts, “I’ve spent so many nights trying to figure out why the fuck I think about you so much until I eventually realized it. I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t sure about my own feelings.”

“You’re wrong, Jungkook.”

“Can you stop?” He snaps, “Stop belittling my feelings. Stop acting like you know shit about love, because you don’t. Your only relationship was with an asshole who cheated on you and talks shit about you even though he’s with another girl.”

Jungkook’s right. He’s absolutely right. You’re reflected on it, too. But you can’t help but become enraged when the truth comes out of his mouth.

“I don’t know shit about love?” You laugh bitterly, “Yeah, I don’t. And Jimin was an asshole. But you don’t know anything about love either.”

“At least I know what I deserve and what you deserve,” He says, “If you could just give me a chance to show you-“

“Show me what love is?” You interrupt, “Jungkook, how can you? Your own brother doesn’t even love you!”

You struck a chord, and you see that right when the words come out of your mouth. It’s only during then that you realize that using facts in your arguments aren’t always the best thing. Jungkook gawks at you in disbelief, his mouth ajar.

“I.. Jungkook, I’m really sorry. Stuff like that isn’t your fault,” You open the door and step inside, “I think that just shows we’re not good together. You should go home. It’s late. Goodnight, Jungkook.”

After that night and once Jungkook is done with his (mercifully given) 10 day expulsion, he finds a way to avoid you at all costs at school, going as far as to even switch seats with someone in the one class you have together. Your supposed “long lasting” friend group had ultimately split up, you and Jungkook giving each other the cold shoulder while Hoseok and Namjoon tried to find a good balance of seeing each other and you guys at the same time.

Jungkook no longer drives you home, and there’s now an empty seat at the dinner table that looms heavily on your conscience. Clementine hasn’t said anything, reassuring you that she’s happy just being with you, but you know that she’s having a hard time dealing with the situation as well.

His name is omitted in your house, and no one in your family asks about him.

Well, until now.

Because when your mom sits with you on your bed, asking what really happened, you cry once more in her arms, the guilt finally pushing you past your breaking point again. You tell her everything, and she holds you close, hushing you while you cry.

“Why were you so upset with him?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” You say as you think about it.

“Do you still have feelings for Jimin?”

You reevaluate your sentiments toward Jimin, and what used to be feelings of love and pain have simply withered away into disgust.

“No…? I don’t think so.”

“So what was the real reason?”

“I guess… I guess it’s because he was expelled and that means he could be off the team. He shouldn’t be risking that for me,” The words come out of your mouth almost involuntarily, as if they’ve been waiting to reveal themselves to you, “And the fact that he says that he’s in love with me when he hardly knows me… It was such a stupid fight and I feel terrible.”

You hide your face in your hands, thinking about what you’ve said to the poor boy.

“Are you in love with him?”

Something stirs in your heart, and it scares you.

“I can’t tell anymore.”

“Well, only you know what’s best for you, and you’ll figure it out. We’ll be here every step of the way,” Your mom assures you, “Can I just say one thing, though?”

You nod.

“When two people argue over something that’s considered stupid or trivial,” She starts, “That usually means they actually care about each other the most.”

[December 19, 8:09] Clem Y/N Can you come pick me up from Charlotte’s pls? I wanna go home Y/N why? is everything ok? Clem Please just pick me up I wanna go home I don’t like birthday parties anymore

“Hey, mom,” You rush over to her, showing her your phone. In an instant, you’re driving over to Clementine’s friend’s house. Once you reach the place, you knock on the door, and upon meeting the parents, you say that you need to pick up Clementine for an “urgent reason”.

It isn’t until she closes the car door and your mom starts driving that she breaks down in tears.

“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately, and once she regains her composure she responds.

“They made me,” She gasps, “They made me tell Lucas that I like him. H-He made fun of me and rejected me in front of everyone.”

You and your mom look at each other with sad, knowing eyes.

Looks like there’d be a warm bath and a lot of tough conversations for Clementine in the near future.

While you mope around and recharge your mental battery during heartbreak, it turns out that Clementine does the exact opposite. She overworks herself in order to distract herself from the fact that she’s devastated.

You take note of this when you come downstairs and you’re hit with the smell of chocolate chip cookies for the sixth time this week. They’re your favorite, but if Clementine bakes any more, you’re bound to get sick of them.

You ignore that and grab a cookie anyway, shoving it into your mouth with delight.

“Do you like it?” Clementine asks, nervous. You nod, and she beams at you.

For something as simple as chocolate chip cookies, Clementine sure does put a lot of pressure on herself to make them perfect.

“Seok’s coming over later tonight,” You attempt to make conversation while she’s already looking through her phone for a new recipe to try.

“Ah, really? That’s great! I miss him,” She smiles, “I actually, um, I have plans today too.”

“Really? With who?”

“Mom already knows,” She says rather quickly, “I’m going out with a friend to dinner.”

Despite your curiosity gnawing away at you, urging you to ask her who this friend is, you stay quiet. This was something she needed, and if your mom was okay with it, then things should be fine.

Leaving the kitchen, you go upstairs to take a nice, long shower.

“Y/N?” You hear Clementine’s muffled voice behind your door.

“It’s open.”

She steps in, and you stare at her in awe. She’s wearing a light blue, off-the-shoulder dress and from the looks of it, your mom has done her makeup beautifully. Her hair is curled, waves gently framing her face. She fidgets with the silver clutch purse in her hands shyly, while she feels your gaze on her.

“Do I, um,” She gulps, “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful.”

She gets even shier, sporting a soft smile on her face. While she looks amazing, she still is unsure of herself, standing awkwardly as she tries to get used to wearing such nice clothes. You feel a touch of pain that comes along with the swell of pride in your chest when you see how beautiful your sister is. It’s such a shame, seeing how fast time flies.

“Do you know which shoes would look good with this?” She asks, “I don’t think my sneakers aren’t really ideal.”

“Oh, definitely not,” You tease, getting up from your bed, “We’re almost the same shoe size, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay, you can borrow my flats then,” The two of you make your way to the shoe closet, and you crouch down to sort through the piles of dress shoes, “Unless you want heels?”

“Oh, no thank you,” She spews out, and you laugh. Even under all the makeup and fancy dresses you could put Clementine in, you could never change who she really is.

You grab a pair of light beige ballet flats. They’re rounded at the tip and have a black section at the too. There’s a thin, dainty elastic bow on both of them, and when Clementine sees them, she falls in love. Of course, you knew right away that she’d like them. There was no use in having her try on other flats.

“Thank you so much, Y/N!”

“Anytime.”

There’s a bright smile on both of your faces, and your conversation is interrupted when Clementine’s phone ring.

“Oh, I’ve gotta go,” She says, leaning in to press a kiss in your cheek, “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye, Clem. Be safe.”

“I will!”

And with that, she’s out of the door and you’re left by yourself on this frigid Friday evening. You sigh, slouching down into the couch and turning on the TV. You can’t seem to remember a day in your life where you’ve been by yourself like this, both your parents and Clementine off to dinner at some fancy places you don’t know.

For the hundredth time this evening, you check the time.

 7:23. 

Hoseok would be here any minute, but right now you’re left to your own device.

It’s during then where your thoughts start to travel to the mess of your own life.

You mindlessly watch the cartoons that are playing on your screen while you reflect on your past mistakes. Jungkook continues to flash into your mind and you can’t help but wince every 2 or 3 minutes when you’re rudely reminded of your harsh words towards him. You cover your face in your hands, regretting every single moment of your life up till now. There was nothing that was going to bring back your friendship with Jungkook.

Why did you care so much? You shake your head as you try to sort out the discordant jumble of your emotions. There was no reason to care. You had only really gotten to know Jungkook this year. If someone was able to develop feelings for you that quickly, then certainly they weren’t real. Maybe Jungkook is in love with the idea of you. Or he’s incredibly bored and mistakes feelings of friendship for being in love. That’s usually how things play out.

So why were you bothered so much?

Why did you keep checking your phone to see if he would ever text you? Even now you’re tapping into your conversation with him, waiting to see if he’d type something out. Without thinking, you type a simple “I’m sorry” out. The words glare back at you, asking you why the fuck you haven’t sent them to him yet. You let out a tired sigh and delete them.

Although it’s childish, your mind’s first defense is to tarnish your version of Jungkook’s image. Jeon Jungkook was, in his core, a conceited, good-for-nothing quarterback who cared about no one else except for himself.

You groan, hitting yourself. Every single word in that statement isn’t true.

“What the fuck,” You whine to nobody in particular, curling up into a ball.

Why did Jungkook have to force his way into your life like that? Jungkook with his stupidly soft brown hair and his annoyingly pretty eyes. With his kind smile and laugh that you’d love to record and just hear on repeat for the rest of your days. Jeon Jungkook, the person you’d never expect to be your new best friend, but here he was, just popping up out of nowhere and disappearing without a trace. You curse his name over and over again. Why couldn’t you get his face out of your mind?

His infuriatingly attractive face and his built frame that always makes an appearance, no matter how loose his clothing is. It’s a whole repeat of the other night, where all your senses, all your thoughts, are nothing but him.

You hear his laughter. How it’s so sweet, so soft. You see the way his eyes crinkle up into pretty little crescent moons, how his toothy grin makes yet another appearance into your mind. How his eyes look so endearingly at you, like you could do no wrong in his sight. You think about reaching out to him. Maybe for a hug? You’re not so sure. All you can think about now, though, is how warm his embrace probably is. He’s always gentle with Clementine. There’s no doubt that he’s gentle and kind towards you now, too.

How would he look, laying next to you in bed? How would he look in the morning? Would he have even messier hair? Sleepy eyes? A lazy smile across his lips? Would he—

The doorbell rings, literally saving you from the grave you’re digging yourself. It wakes you up from your thoughts, making you realize that you shouldn’t be thinking of a friend like this.

You run over to the door, and when it’s open, you’re suddenly engulfed in Hoseok’s arms. You almost topple over, Hoseok being quite taller than you and stronger. He’s got a giddy grin on his face, and it looks like he’s just received the best news of his life. You have a confused, although happy smile on your face as well.

“Y/N, I’ve got so much to tell you!”

“Let me go make some popcorn,” You say, excited to hear the good news, “You got the movies, right?”

Hoseok takes off his backpack and pulls out three DVD cases.

“Obviously.”

They’re all cheesy rom-coms that are supposedly targeted towards teenagers, but are made by adults that apparently haven’t talked to a teenager in their life, despite having been one a few years earlier. That makes the movies all the better, though, because Hoseok and you like to take your time to nitpick all of the flaws in every single one. It’s a nice pastime with your best friend.

“Well, let’s get to it then!”

For the first time in forever, you can’t wait to torture yourself by watching shitty chick flicks with Hoseok.

“He did what?” 

“He kissed me, Y/N! He kissed me!” Hoseok squeals, and he almost drops the bowl of popcorn on his lap. 

The terrible movie is long forgotten.

“In the rain?” You ask, equally as excited, “Holy shit, Hobs, that’s like a movie!”

“I know,” He can’t wipe the grin off his face, “I was so mad at him before, ‘cause like, he just wouldn’t do anything! But then he kissed me out of nowhere!”

He‘s head over heels, dramatically leaning into the couch while pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, an over exaggerated performance of a faint.

“I feel like I’ve been struck by Cupid!”

“I think you’ve been like that a long time ago.”

“Shut up.”

“Just sayin’.”

Hoseok angrily grabs a handful of popcorn and shoves it in his mouth, the popcorn squeaking and crunching between his teeth.

“I hate that you’re always right.”

“Well, that’s not so true anymore…”

Your head hangs low, your vision on the screen now on your own bowl of popcorn. You grab a handful for yourself, using the action of chomping as a way to preoccupy yourself from the guilt.

“Hey, listen,” Hoseok wraps an arm around you and you rest on him, “It was in the heat of the moment.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right there,” He chuckles, “But, hey, no one’s perfect. Jungkook was out of line. So were you. Stuff like that happens.”

“Why do I care so much?” You sigh, dejected.

“Because you like him,” He hums, almost nonchalantly.

“W-What?”

“You like Jungkook, Y/N.”

You stay silent, and Hoseok lifts you off of him so he can grab you by the shoulders.

“...Do you seriously not know?” His brows furrow, and you stare at him blankly.

“I think you might be wrong there, bud,” You give him a questioning look.

“Y/N, I love you. You’re an idiot.”

He stands up, and you’re still dumbfounded at his words. Hoseok reaches over to the coffee table and takes your phone. He clicks it on, the brightness causing you to squint. You take a mental note to stop having the brightness setting so high all the time. Once your eyes adjust to the lighting, you’re met with an image of Jungkook standing next to you in the living room, his arm around you while the both of you smile at the camera.

He’s got a tiara on and you have a fairy wand and a scratchy tutu wrapped around your waist, the tight elastic causing your t-shirt to bunch up in thick wrinkles. You involuntarily giggle to yourself when you see the picture. After playing a few board games with Clementine one night, she wanted to go into the attic and dress the two of you up in her old Halloween costumes. Of course, wanting to entertain her, the both of you granted her wishes.

And as if on cue, the smile from ear to ear that you’re sporting has dawned the realization on you.

“We’re just friends…”

“Y/N. I know you. You’ve been a bitch before. Without remorse,” Hoseok sighs, shaking his head.

“Hey!”

“All I’m saying is,” He puts his hands up in surrender, “Y/N, you know how good you are in arguments when you’re angry. You almost never feel bad when you use your words.”

“Okay, I’m not that bad-“

“Y/N,” He asserts, “Remember last year when you cussed that one Freshman out ‘cause he threw a french fry at me?”

“Yeah…”

“You went out of your way to sit down next to him and then proceed to tell him that if he disappeared, no one would notice.”

“I said that?” Your voice has only now become a pathetic little squeak.

“Yes, yes, you did,” He waves his hand after he speaks, “We’re getting off topic. What I’m telling you right now is that you’re blunt. Incredibly blunt. Like, holy shit, how can you say that? type of blunt.”

“I got that, but-“

“Not done,” He shoves the phone in your face even more, as to prove a point, “As we’ve seen before, you forget half of the crap you say. You never feel bad.”

You huff, not sure if you want to hear what Hoseok’s about to say next.

“Look at yourself right now. You’ve been moping over one sentence you’ve said to one boy for how long?” He wags the phone around, further emphasizing the said point, “And now you see one picture of him and you’re giggling like a dumbass.”

You sink back into the couch, the weight of everything hitting you way too strongly, too quickly.

“Well, let’s just say I did like him-“

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Just, just hear me out, okay?” You beg, and Hoseok tosses your phone on the table before slumping down on the couch, “So let’s say I did like him. Don’t you think I would’ve known by now?”

“Holy- Jungkook was right when he said you didn’t know shit,” Hoseok’s so close to losing it and killing you, “Have you seen the way you look at him?”

“No?”

“You’re insufferable,” Hoseok groans, whipping out his phone and scrolling through his camera roll. He taps on a video and he shows it to you.

On his screen, you’re sitting in the front passenger seat while Jungkook drives, both of you screaming out the songs on the radio from the top of your lungs. It was some cheesy song both of you hated but knew all of the lyrics to. You examine yourself in the video. When you look at Jungkook, there’s—yet again—another bright smile on your face, and there seems to be a twinkle in your eye. You cringe at yourself, hearing your voice and seeing just how wide your smile is, which causes your cheeks to puff up unflatteringly.

A hand reaches to your face when you notice how chubby it is.

“Where and how did you take that?”

“Remember when Joonie’s car broke down and we had to ride with you losers?”

“Oh.”

You think about that day. It was oddly suspicious as to how quiet they were in the car. Usually, Hoseok would’ve been nervously mouthing Namjoon’s ear off by then.

“Need I say more?”

You almost feel betrayed. Betrayed by how blind you’ve been, how stupid you’ve been.

“Well, it’s a lost cause,” You lament, “I fucked everything up. He probably doesn’t care about me anymore.”

“Not exactly.”

Hoseok swipes out of his camera roll and goes into Snapchat. He slides over to the Stories section and taps on one of the small circles. You’re met with yet another truth revealing image.

Took this kiddo out since some meanie broke her heart ;(

The translucent black bar almost laughs while Clementine smiles back at you—or, the camera, at least. She’s wearing the light blue dress from before and her hair has slightly gone flat, but is still quite wavy. There’s a huge plate of spaghetti before her, and she’s holding onto her fork with anticipation.

“If he didn’t care, why would he take the time to take Tina out tonight? He could’ve ignored her reaching out to him.”

While he is extremely right, you’re more focused on the situation itself.

“Why didn’t she tell me it was him taking her to dinner?”

Yet another betrayal tonight.

“I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause you probably would use those pretty little words of yours towards her.”

“Am I really that scary?”

“Not all of the time,” He says, “But that’s ‘cause Jungkook makes you less high strung.”

“Hey, I’d watch what you’re saying right now-“

Hoseok wraps his arms around you, and he lets out a shaky, forced laugh. You don’t hug him back, but instead you let his embrace cool you down.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Anyways, more important than you planning out my funeral in your head right now,” He continues, “This is perfect for you.”

“What? The fact that my sister is going out on a date and I’m not is perfect?”

“No, no, you really are clueless, aren’t you? You poor, poor little girl,” He sighs, “This is a perfect opportunity for you to make amends with Wonder Boy tonight!”

“He just cares about Clem, not me, Seok,” You pout, “It’d be nice to, but he probably hates me.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re also wrong!”

Once again, Jung Hoseok is pulling out receipts left and right with the sole purpose of proving you wrong. He goes into his text conversations and taps on a group chat between him, Namjoon, and Jungkook. You squint at the title.

“Therapy from Y/N’s Stubborn Ass?”

“Poor kid named it, not me!”

You roll your eyes, scrolling through the conversation. An odd clump of texts from Jungkook shine out to you the most. They’re all from the night of you messing up your friendship with him.

[December 6, 12:54 AM] Jungkook (Namjoon’s Stalker) I feel like I’m going insane I know I should be mad at her And I’m sure when I think about it properly, I will be But for some reason I don’t?

“Nice name for Namjoon.”

“Shut up and read the fucking texts before I lose it.”

[December 6, 12:55 AM] Joon Bug <3 Maybe you’re just tired, that was a lot to take in Hoseok yeah, but also try not to take it too hard. y/n’s kind of just like that. she thinks before she speaks and she gets way too angry for her own good. even more so if she cares about you.

“No need to call me out like that.”

“Trust me, Y/N, you needed to hear it eventually.”

[December 6, 12:54 AM] Jungkook (Namjoon’s Stalker) Yeah, you’re right It’s kind of cute, isn’t it?

The rest of the conversation is Jungkook praising you, adoring how “strong” you could be and how cute you were when you got upset. It’s a complete shift in mood from seconds ago, and obviously the reaction you were not expecting. The same fluttery feeling becomes stronger in your chest, so much so that it’s too obvious to ignore. You throw the phone back to Hoseok, not being able to cope with the heaping amounts of new information you’ve received.

“What time do you think they’ll get here?” You murmur.

“Soon enough,” Hoseok sighs again, this time in relief, knowing that you were finally going to listen to him.

You decide to ease some of your nerves by actually watching the movie, pinpointing the many beautiful flaws of the characters and the stories.

“Y/N?” You feel someone shake you, “Y/N? Wake up.”

You croak some incoherent grumbles, rubbing your puffy eyes. You cautiously open one of them, gauging how bright the lights are. Once you’ve adjusted, you blink to see Clementine above you. You sit up from Hoseok, who you’ve been leaning on for the past few hours and who’s still sound asleep.

Who knew criticizing three romance movies back to back would make you so tired?

“Hi, Clem,” You yawn, stretching out your arms, “How was dinner?”

“Great,” She giggles, “I actually have something for you, and you might be mad at me for it.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s more of a who, than a what.”

You nod, as Clementine helps you get up from the couch. In your sleep ridden daze, you forget about your urgency to talk to Jungkook and you also don’t recognize that she’s pulling you from your arm and walking you out the door. You only realize it when a brisk wind slaps you harshly in the face, causing your hair to become even more tangled than before.

Before you know it, you’re standing in front of Jungkook on your driveway and Clementine is running back into the house to find refuge in your best friend.

He’s dressed in a simple black suit, a white dress shirt neatly tucked into his pants. The thin, breathable fabric is tight against his skin, further showing just how built he is for his age. The scars and bruises have faded away completely, but you do see a bandage or two when his sleeve rolls up to scratch his nose or fix a piece of hair that’s out of place. His hair is neatly combed into a middle part, some of the hair fanning over his eyes. His hands are now shoved in his pockets, and he’s staring down at you, waiting for you to say something.

Small is probably the best way to describe how you feel when you’re in his presence right now. Underdressed, too, maybe, as you’re only clad in an old hoodie that has the name of a college you’ve never heard of, some thick, baggy sweatpants, and a pair of bunny slippers. Not to mention how messy your hair is and how your face is still puffy from the deep sleep you were in mere minutes ago.

“Um… Hi,” You wince once you hear how scratchy your voice is. This certainly is doing wonders for your image.

“Hey,” He responds, hesitant as well.

You bite your lip, trying to find the right words to say. You plan to confess to him, right here and right now, but another harsh wind hits you, causing you to shiver and clutch your arms around yourself to try to create some warmth for yourself. Immediately, Jungkook takes off his blazer and wraps it around you. He leads you to the trunk of his car, and once it’s open, he helps you get up there so you can sit.

Bless his parents for giving him an SUV.

The car trunk blocks out the outside wind, and Jungkook’s blazer gives you immense warmth. The scent of laundry detergent mixed with faint, pleasant cologne floods your senses, calming you down right away. Jungkook watches as you snuggle yourself in his clothes. His legs hang over the edge of the trunk while you curl up in a ball, leaning on one side of the car.

“I’m sorry,” You clear your throat, “For being an asshole.”

“It’s no-“

“No, don’t say that. It’s not something you can just brush over so lightly,” You look him dead in the eye while you speak, “I was terrible and I’m really sorry for saying such mean things to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Jungkook nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line before licking them. A thin layer of saliva glosses his lips, their color a more vivid shade of pink.

“I’m really sorry, Jungkook,” You repeat, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your voice is clear even though your heart is beating violently against your chest, and even you’re amazed. Hoseok was right when he said that you were good with your words.

Well, up until now.

“Y/N-“

When he says your name, your words ungracefully sputter out of your mouth, displaying just how afraid you are. 

“No, I’m, like, really, really sorry,” You feel tears well up in your eyes, but you brave on nonetheless, “I get it if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, and that’s okay, I just-“

“Y/N.”

In a split second, Jungkook’s hands are cupped around your face. He stares into your eyes deeply, fondly, just like he always does. You blink back at him, eyes fluttering while you try to adjust to the proximity. It’s then where you see every single little detail on his face that makes him who he is. The little scar on his cheek, the moles lightly dotted on his skin, and the way his eyes seem doe-like, almost. You take it all in, noticing how your breaths have synchronized, cold fog coming from of both of your lips.

You almost forget how much you like the way he says your name.

“Listen to me,” He whispers, “I’m okay. You’re okay.”

“Really?”

“I forgive you.”

The tears you’ve been desperately trying to hold back have somehow found their way out, and Jungkook chuckles while his thumb wipes them away. His touch is gentle on your skin, almost ticklish, and he doesn’t say anything else but just continues to dry the tears falling from your eyes.

“Jungkook,” You sniffle, “You’re too nice for your own good.”

He shrugs, letting out a breathy laugh. It’s music to your ears, just like it’s always been.

“Only to the people I love,” He tilts his head to the side, “Other than that, I’m pretty selfish.”

You giggle as well, putting your hands on his and leaning more into his touch. Your eyelids flutter downwards, as you take the time to just feel him on your skin, to savor this moment for yourself.

“Do you still think I don’t know anything about you, Y/N?”

You open your eyes and look at him, as he expectantly waits for you to answer. For some reason, though, your words catch in your throat. You never seem to be able to speak properly around Jungkook. He sighs, taking your silence as a resounding “yes”.

“Your name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and you’re a junior in high school. You’re on the Monarchs cheer team, and your best friend is named Jung Hoseok,” He says, not taking his hands away from you, “You have a little sister named Clementine, who’s 12. Your mom’s a psychiatrist and your dad is an architect. Even though they’re always busy, they’ve been trying to find ways to spend more time together.”

The routinely symphony of crickets mixed with Jungkook’s voice and the scent of Jungkook constantly wafting into your nose almost makes you faint. The state you’re in is one of complete bliss, complete relaxation as his hands are warm and welcoming against your skin. You’d go to sleep if Jungkook wasn’t professing his love for you for the second time right now.

“You like One Direction, even though a lot of people think that’s cringy. You’re still a big fan of the Power Rangers, and Trini, the Yellow Ranger, is your favorite. You can be incredibly mean and you can say things out of line, but most of the time you just don’t think before speaking,” He smiles at you while he speaks, “Deep down inside I know you’re an incredible softie. And I know that because of how you treat Tina. And, ‘cause you’re a softie ‘round me too, even if you don’t realize it.”

“Oh, Jungkook,” You breathe out, a smile forming on your lips as well.

“You used to hate me, because I called you thunder thighs during practice, and rightfully so,” He mumbles the last part, and you giggle.

“Didn’t know you’d remember that.”

“Remembered it ‘cause I can never forget how angry you were that day,” He teases, “Anyways, you used to hate me so much. And I’ll be honest, you had every reason to. I didn’t like you that much either.”

“Ouch.”

He rolls his eyes at you.

“But then I got to know you, got to see how kind and genuine you are around people, even if you don’t see that,” He says, “Sometimes you say terrible things, but under that tough exterior, all you are is just a genuine girl who does her best to make the people she loves happy.”

“You’re hardworking, smart, and extremely funny,” He continues, “In and out, you’re a beautiful person. That’s the Y/N I know, and that’s the Y/N I love and I will be in love with for a long time.”

You sniffle, and Jungkook waits, afraid that you’ll start crying again. When you don’t, he takes a deep breath before talking again.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Y/N,” He confesses, “Can’t you see?”

You shake your head, reaching out to grab him by the collar. You pull him in and press your lips against him, your whole body being set aflame and your lips telling him everything that you’re dying to say. There’s a faint taste of Jungkook’s watermelon flavored gum on your tongue (If you thought about it hard enough, there was a hint of pasta there as well). His lips are soft and pillowy against yours, and you feel as though you’ve waited for this moment for your entire life.

Who knew it would take your mom, your sister, and Hoseok to make you realize that?

Jungkook smiles against your lips, caressing your face lovingly with his thumbs. Your hand finds a way through his soft brown locks, combing through the strands that fall in between your fingers.

The sky is painted pitch black, save for the bright stars and the moon shining for the two of you, but your world is painted in deep shades of pink. Sure, it may be extremely cold because it is still December after all, but Jungkook’s lips feel warm on yours and that’s all the heat you needed to survive. You could stay like this forever if you could, if your lungs could take it.

However, that isn’t humanly possible, and after what feels like forever, your body reminds you that you still need oxygen to function.

You pull away, hands still in their respective place while the two of you meet eyes, chests moving up and down in sync. Your lips are slightly parted, mimicking Jungkook’s, and a silence falls on the two of you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s peaceful, as your world becomes nothing but Jungkook right at this moment.

“I love you,” both of you say at the same time, and before you know it, you’re laughing. Jungkook’s still stunned at first, but now he’s laughing just because you’re laughing and it’s contagious.

And in this moment, you feel safe.

Sure, you didn’t know a thing about love. You couldn’t even tell left from right at some times. But maybe that was okay. Maybe you didn’t have to figure everything out right now. Sitting with Jungkook in the trunk of his car, where the stars are beaming down on you and his coat is keeping you warm, is honestly all you need tonight. And maybe you still have some negative feelings you need to resolve from your past relationships. Maybe you had some issues in yourself that you needed to sort out, but that was okay, because Jungkook had his fair share of issues himself. And regardless of all of that, he was ready to risk it all for you. He was willing to learn and grow with you. Jungkook would wait for you as long as it takes. And you don’t need him to reassure you. You didn’t need to worry about it. You didn’t need to worry about anything, you realize.

Because now Jungkook’s walking you back into your house, offering to tuck you into bed and stay with you until you fall asleep, even though you’re 17 and you’re very well aware that you don’t need someone else to keep you company so you can sleep.

That doesn’t mean you’d decline his offer, though, as you lie in bed with him, snuggled up in his arms while he runs his hands through your hair. His dress shirt is scratchy against your skin, but you don’t care. Being with him is enough for you. 

“Are you still on the team?” You ask out of the blue, eyelids drooping down while your burning curiosity gets the best of you, “You didn’t get kicked off because of me, did you-“

He peppers your face in kisses.

“Coach and I are close, he gets it,” He mumbles against your skin, “Just gotta do a lot of his chores for the rest of the year and summer. I’ll be okay, Y/N.”

“Okay…”

“That’s not your fault, princess,” He chuckles, “That was mine.”

“Yeah, definitely,” You nuzzle your face in his chest, “Still upset you did that.”

“Oh, I know,” He places yet another kiss on your head, “But for you, I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

And as the two of you fall asleep soundly in each other’s arms, you’re unaware of the loving smiles from your family and Hoseok’s faces when they see you two through the slightly opened door.

Epilogue

A little more than a year has passed. You’ve kept track.

Life has thrown obstacle after obstacle your way, but you’ve overcome all of them so far, and you plan to do so until your last breath. Jungkook was right when he said that you were strong. It’s amazing how you didn’t quite exactly realize this until now. 

But this “strength” is long gone today, as you’re sitting on a fancy wooden chair, the soft cushion feeling good under you, in the middle of an Italian restaurant. The chandelier’s are dimly lit, shading your beige surroundings in elegant oranges and creams. You take a deep breath, trying to still your heart that's pounding violently in your chest. Your nerves work against every single word of the pep talk you’ve given yourself this morning, and you steady yourself, fidgeting with the silk, blue fabric of your dress that’s laying across your lap.

You look over to your right, and if you were stressed out, Jungkook was ten times worse, to say the least.

His right leg is bouncing up and down uncontrollably, and he continues to wipe away sweat from his forehead with a napkin, despite the fact that the restaurant is heavily air conditioned. His lips are formed in a tight, miniscule circle, and he’s also trying to steady his breathing, but he fails time and time again, hyperventilating right after. Every few seconds, he’ll pull out his phone and use his camera as a mirror, his fingers fixing the littlest flaw in his hair that his mind seems to create. His left arm is resting on your chair, the feeling of the thick material of his sleeve tickling your skin.

You sigh, watching how much of a nervous wreck he was, despite how amazing he looked in his tux.

“Still can’t believe you took Clem to this place before me,” You quip, and Jungkook is taken out of his trance, a smile falling on his lips once his eyes meet yours, “I think that’s a little unfair, don’t you?”

A miniscule portion of the tension in his body is gone while he’s thinking of what to say, not willing to miss any chance of responding to your jokes with something of equal (if not more) wittiness.

“First come, first serve, princess,” He chuckles, and you roll your eyes at him, punching his chest lightly. Once you’re quiet, he’s back to overthinking.

“Y’know, the fact that you’re more nervous than I am is saying something,” You hum, reaching up to poke his cheek so that he returns to Earth.

“I can’t help it…”

You smirk, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. His face flashes up, and he shakes his head at you.

“You’re crazy, y’know that?” He sighs, staring at you dreamily. Even now, he becomes head over heels when you kiss him out of the blue. The sight of him having literal heart eyes for you makes you giggle.

“So are you,” You respond, “But, hey, it’ll be okay, I promise. Nothing bad could possibly happen.”

“...Really?”

“Of course, Kook,” You place your hand on his thigh, giving it an affirmative squeeze, “Everything will be fine.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Well,” You click your tongue, “We’ll get there when we get there.”

He nods, most of the stress leaving his head. You take a sigh of relief, seeing how relaxed he’s become. Now he’s cracking jokes about anything and everything, and you feel a flutter in your chest. Jungkook was back to his normal self.

Well, he was until he suddenly froze in his seat while he was in the middle of telling you a funny story during practice. Your focus is turned away from him and you follow his line of vision. You’re met with a waitress leading a middle-aged man and a boy into the seating area. She scans the room and once she sees your table, she gestures over to you two, a bright, pleasant smile on her face.

Jungkook immediately stands up to greet the two of them, thanking the waitress for her assistance. He guides them to the table, and it’s only then where you get a good look at them.

You suppress a laugh. Jungkook definitely had his father’s nose.

So did his little brother, Yeonjin, who was the spitting image of Jungkook when Jungkook was 13. He even has the infamous bowl cut that Jungkook had when he was younger. The boy takes out the earbuds in his ears, unplugs them from his phone, rolls them up in his hand, and places the coiled up earbuds into his pocket of his trousers.

He stares up at you, almost in awe, and so does his dad, who’s looking you up and down. Jungkook’s father acts as if he’s dissecting a subject, taking you apart piece by piece and rearranging you in his mind so as to get a better understanding of your character. It’s times like these where you wish that mind reading was a skill.

Jungkook takes another deep breath. He then gestures to you, and you flash a polite smile to them, reaching out your hand.

“Um, Yeonie,” He clears his throat, “Dad, this is Y/N.”

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” His father says, a soft smile appearing finally. He shakes your hand. Yeonjin follows his actions, shaking your hand with an obviously lesser amount of strength, but with the same eagerness all the more. You hide the uneasiness in your chest, knowing all that you know about Jungkook’s dad and his brother. And knowing that his dad doesn’t know that you know about him.

Nevertheless, though, you sit down with his other side of the family and make easy conversation with them while all of you look through the menu. Yeonjin points to one dish on the menu to his dad, and then whips out his phone and starts scrolling through social media. He doesn’t say anything, save for a soft chuckle or snicker when he sees a funny post on his phone.

You take a glance at Jungkook, who has become more composed than earlier. You take a few more glances, and Jungkook does the same. When you make eye contact, you give him a bright smile, and he mirrors you. You feel the back of his hand on your thigh, and you put your hand in his. He lets out a sigh, squeezing you and massaging your skin with his thumb. The action brings both of you at peace.

“So, Y/N,” His dad takes a sip of the ice cold water in his glass, “How did you get to know Jungkook?”

This time, Yeonjin actually looks up from his phone to stare at you with curiosity.

You smile at them sheepishly, wondering what exactly to tell them of your wild ride of a story with Jungkook. Maybe you could omit some parts here and there, especially the part about him getting expelled because of you. You’re not even sure if his dad knew that happened to him.

You gulp, and Jungkook squeezes your hand once more. Now it’s him making sure that you return to Earth. Your nerves are still set on fire, though, and you stammer out a few incoherent sounds while you try to find the right things to say.

This was definitely going to be significantly harder than having dinner with his mom.

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed!!! it had quite a bunch of cliches but i loved writing them nonetheless. i love you all :)

[caecilius-in-horto-ubi-sedebit]

Tim Drake is Disabled!

welcome to Pip's Projections! (fair warning im working mostly from oooold memory and vibes, im no expert)

neurodivergence!

i definitely get autism spec vibes from Timbo (maybe ADHD). His special interest– one of them, rather– being crime, and specifically high-profile, hero-adjacent crime.He seems to hyperfocus on anything crime related, and fixates automatically on such things– like where he's focused on the crime story on the TV when his dad is being awful

he also, at least from where im sitting, seems to have emotional dysregulation problems and problems recognizing his emotions in the moment and working through them– my most vivid example is when his dad dies, and he stuffs down his feelings, and either can't or refuses to communicate or emote, which is something i struggle with when i cant fully parse a feeling

hyperfocus, a deep drive for perfectionism– which isn't exactly a trait of autism or ADHD, but I've seen a lot of overlap, a need to be doing something– he rarely rests, and there's little (afaik) showing him just chilling, seeming to obsess over details (yes, he is a detective, still) and overthinking scenarios, especially possibilities

seems kinda socially awkward, but like not debilitatingly so, though his interests– that we've been shown– are fairly restricted, and often tie back in to crime and vigilante stuff

a large swathe of abilities, many of which are previously undisclosed, indicating a disinclination to share with friends/family/colleagues/whatever one's latest exploits

routines. this is less about him having to have the same day/week over and over, and more about planning. he has a plan, and he obsesses over also having a plan for every possible variation (control issues, i relate, except i ahte routines with a passion funny enough)

mental illness!

spicy spicy major depression, generalized anxiety, and the obligatory PTSD, for all vigilantes. also, i feel, maybe some depersonalization-derealization– though i dunno if id say full on disorder or if thats just symptoms, you know? love them differential diagnoses

the major depression... i mean the vibes alone? his friend dies, and he sinks into his grief to the point where he tries to clone said friend. whenever he suffers a loss, he retreats, and then he stuffs it all down, and if that doesnt scream major depression, i should get a new diagnosis

the anxiety?? i guess this ones more abstract, but the feel of the way he holds himself for one? its all shoulders up, sometimes literally poking up, even hunching slightly, generally in the shadows, covering the eyes. thats just me in public.

also the overthinking, though it does fit with the neurodivergence, in terms of how meticulous it all is, how in advance, it also works here. the fact that he needs these plans, and props, and extra everything, and a mask under a mask, that's an anxiety disorder.

i feel like the PTSD is just a given, right? like, he's definitely got some stress from all them traumas, you know?

the dissociation– depersonalization and derealization– comes from how his inner monologue sounds while he's in conflict. true, he's probably desensitised to the panic of violence, but he still sounds detached, like he's seeing the things happen, but he's not really aware, or like, present. that's just from the mood, the gutcanon if you will

physical illness!

goodbye spleen! obvi this means our boi Timmy is immunocompromised. he has to take antibiotocs whenever he's ill at all, and if his white blood cell count gets too high (afaik, i have a spleen, i just googled), and he should NOT be in direct contact with anyone showing symptoms of shit, even if it's just the common cold.

so that's a wee bit disabling. also, from personal experience, your immune system sucking means you are always sick, even when you have no reaosn to be. So have fun imagining Red Robin interrogating a goon, and having to pause to blow his runny nose. I know I shall.

immune system problems also happens to be exhausting. not just because of upkeep, but because your body is trying so hard to repair itself, but it is too weak– for Tim, because some asshole stabbed him in a not-so-vestigial organ, for me because collagen fuckery– and all that trying takes up your energy. so i think Red Robin goes out less often than the others, because he needs more rest, as a precaution and as recovery

tl;dr he could be disabled, DC. he could be ND, DC. he could be so much cooler, DC!

i need more outright disabled characters. in the meantime, tim is my comfort probably disabled character

[hollenka99]

Introductions

Summary: Ghostbur arrives in the Void and meets the half of Alivebur that never returned to the Overworld. It is not always plain sailing. Chapter 1 of Unequal Halves.

Warnings: Implied/referenced self harm, derealisation(?), unreality, death, smoking, alcoholism mention

There is the low hubbub of quiet conversation in the air. All around him is rubble and he can't quite recall how L'Manburg came to look like this. If he asked Phil, his father would likely explain. Something bad must have happened if he can't remember. So... maybe it was for the best that his mind goes blank whenever he thinks about it. It was probably just the result of Alivebur blowing the country up anyway, he didn't get a great vantage point before he died so the theory is feasible. Ghostbur must be misremembering how L'Manberg looked before- Huh, no it got restored at some point, he knows that. Not Alivebur's doing then. Phil would know. Phil knows a lot of things, including how to potentially bring back Alivebur. Speaking of Phil, his father was stood next to Eret, both of them lingering by the little recreation set. Ghostbur isn't paying much attention but his best guess is that the topic revolves around their third resurrection attempt today, the reason they've all gathered here once more. He wonders whether the others like Tommy, Fundy and Tubbo will join them. He wouldn't mind leaving for a few minutes to make absolutely sure he's said his goodbyes to them and others. That said, he has had nearly an entire week between the last attempt and today to do that. Not to mention the few days prior to that after he and Phil had organised the first round of re-enactments. Perhaps if this works out, he could influence Alivebur somehow and say goodbye posthumously. "Well, if we're going to do it, better sooner rather than later. Unless we're waiting for the exact time of day he died." "No, let's do it now. I've got the totem and sword, we're all here... there's no point in waiting for the stars to align." "And if it goes like the last two times?" "Then we deal with it. I'll take the blame for wanting to use our third and final chance." There is a pause and in the corner of his eye, he can sense Phil looking his way. "Ghostbur?" "Hi, Phil." He floats over. "Is it time to try again? I've been going over my lines so nothing can go wrong." "I'm sure you have, mate." Phil takes his arm so it is outstretched with an open palm. Into his awaiting hand, a small figurine is placed. It resembles a villager with tiny wings poking to the sides and eyes made of emerald. He believes the closest he's come into contact with one of these totems is that time some citizens of L'Manburg locked Techno in a cage as a prank. Was that thing he saw Techno use a totem? He can't recall correctly, he's not even sure he was fully paying attention since he was watching Friend sniff around at the time, but the light show had been very pretty. "This is a totem of undying. It's going to help us with resurrecting you. Do not drop it at any point. Hold it as tight as you can, got that mate? You holding on to that totem is more important than any lines you might have rehearsed." He playfully tosses it between his hands. "Okay." "Ghostbur." Phil snatches the item from mid-air. Ghostbur catches a glimpse of his father's scornful expression and instinctively averts his eyes. "This is serious. Do you understand how important it is for you to hold this totem or not?" "I do, Phil. Sorry." The item is returned to him. Like he's been instructed to do, he grips it tightly and refuses to let his hold on it weaken. Their little dramatisation goes well. He says the crucial line, the button gets pressed and even more impressively, Ghostbur doesn't flinch in the slightest when the sword meets his semi-corporeal being. This is the third time he's properly died as himself and the sixth since Alivebur's birth. He's sure that if there's any deity in charge of death, they'll be going 'oh it's you again' in a second. ---- It's an odd thing to see your doppelganger in front of you. Wilbur is certainly not a twin and he's never met anyone he's shared a particularly strong resemblance to either. Even during the genetic mishmash that created him, both sides of his family tree had won their battles yet neither claimed true victory over the other to represent themselves more heavily within him. So sure, there were traits you could see he'd inherited from his mother but it wasn't as if he looked like her. However, he was yet to meet someone whose similarity in appearance took him by surprise. The first time had been a shock. He'd been tolerating Schlatt's company with Mexican Dream making the experience a little easier to endure. The Wilbur duplicate had randomly appeared while the three of them had been sitting around, wasting time at a table. The guy is only there for a matter of seconds but it's enough to register his appearance. There's the matching dull grey skin and the hair that's darkened with death. Wilbur's vaguely aware he used to own a sunflower yellow jumper like that in life. It's certainly not the chequered top he's wearing. It happens again shortly after. Wilbur Two doesn't stay long but he appears at the exact spot where Schlatt was sitting. A flimsy connection seems to form, strong enough for the ex-emperor to speak through the ghost and have an extremely blurred view through his eyes. Wilbur sits there as his political rival talks bullocks about jacking off, protein powder and cigarettes. Wilbur would tell him to cut it out if he had cared enough about his counterpart being used like that. All he says when Schlatt seems present within himself once more is impatient prompting to continue their game. They'd anticipated another visit but his clone hasn't shown up since. By now it's been... months maybe? It was hard to tell with the only natural variables when it came to the passage of time being whether it was day or night, sunny or raining. He's been stuck in what he believes is the transition period between spring and summer ever since he got here. Which is absolutely ridiculous given that he has some creative control of this place. Regardless, he's honestly half forgotten about the incident when they truly reunite. The clone sticks out in his bright jumper. It's one of the days Wilbur's dragged himself away from whatever tree roots he's picked to curl up besides. Upon spotting the other Wilbur, he follows from a distance. He ascends a nearby tree. He swears he's been here before, amongst the highest branches to observe someone who didn't know he was there. It's the kind of deja vu he hates, the one with not even the slightest hint of why he might feel that way. Well, maybe one reason but he'd rather not dwell on that. Listen, he tells himself after travelling through the treetops, he's not going to be whole until the two of them interact so he'd better just get on with it. Well, here goes nothing. He pushes off and hops down with a thump. ---- It's peaceful here. Daisies are dotted around, as are oak trees. Despite not knowing where exactly he is, he appreciates how at ease the occasional sounds of wildlife or the leaves of trees rustling in the wind make him. Well, at least for a while, that is. He swears it's just birds. Honestly, what else would it be if not birds? He's being silly. Although, maybe he should escape from any potential creature's line of sight. A part of him he can't reach urges him to not seek out any dirt walls, to head in the opposite direction of them in fact. He's pretty sure he doesn't have anything to protect here other than himself but the instinct to fool potential pursuers directs his movements. A weighty object impacts the ground behind him and he abandons his efforts. Ghostbur risks peeking over his shoulder. And that is how he finds himself face to face with the man who'd been following his movements. "Well, took you long enough." The stranger was certainly not there a moment ago. The fact they are his mirror image is naturally the most striking detail to notice. Although, he will say Alivebur doesn't look too well. His beanie helps with hiding the full extent of his hair's dishevelment despite said hair potentially being able to somewhat distract onlookers from noticing how permanently exhausted his face was. It doesn't matter to Ghostbur. Regardless of the disapproving crossed arms he is met with, he politely introduces himself. "Hi, I don't think we've met before. My name is Ghostbur! What's yours?" "You know our name." He's rifling through his pockets, seemingly unconcerned by the momentous occasion. "Oh, you're Alivebur then." "Ali-" The other Wilbur's head whips up to glare at him. "Do I look alive to you?! We are both the same person, a person who is very much dead." "Deadbur then." "Wilbur is fine. It's our name so I don't see why you can't use it." "It doesn't matter anyway." Wilbur abandons his quest to locate whatever he was try to find. Instead, he sticks out his hand, offering for it to be shaken. "Since you haven't disappeared 2 seconds after showing up this time, I think it's high time we wrap this little charade up, don't you? My best guess is we need skin contact or something along those lines." "Charade?" The hand's altitude falters slightly, almost as if the disgruntled sigh it was paired with had caused it. "Us being apart. I'm sure you've had your fun but it's time we fused back." He should take Wilbur's hand. He really should. This is what Phil, Eret and the others were working towards. People wanted Alivebur back as it was. So that meant he had to go. Think of all that time and effort to prepare everything for something he suggested they do in the first place, wasted by cold feet. Was he the first one to bring up resurrection? He honestly has no clue. There isn't a guarantee that this will work anyway. Same as... something he's sure has slipped his mind. Oh wait no, the button! He hadn't been sure about whether that would be successful either. But it had been. So this would likely be too, right? Except, he doesn't want to. He's not ready to give up the feeling of sunshine as he strolls around, the aroma of ingredients as he brews potions, the ability to chat with his friends while checking in on them or any of the other things he's enjoyed while himself. It was him who helped make the lanterns that once floated above New L'Manburg, him who attempted to collect enough books to start a history-preserving library and it was him who tried to build Tommy a nice holiday home to cheer his brother up during their time away from their nation. He knows he told Phil he was willing to relinquish his existence to return Alivebur to everybody but... maybe he didn't entirely mean it in his heart. They'll never be enough time, regardless how much the universe may wish to grant him, yet this doesn't feel like it's close to enough. "...No." "No?" "I don't want to go back yet. I..." He isn't too keen on that scowl. Perhaps if he makes up an excuse, things won't be so tense. "I just got here so why would I leave before I um, explored?" Shoulders loosen and Wilbur is back to absentmindedly rummaging through his pockets. "Guess I won't force you. And well, if you're going to be here for the indefinite future, I can give you a tour of this place." "That would be really helpful. Thank you." He breaks into a grateful smile. "Okay so to the north is grass and trees, to the west is grass and trees, same to the south. Oh but the east is actually quite exciting. You'll find trees and grass there." "I... see. Sounds great." Keep smiling, no need to ruin any potential future rapport so early. "I can't wait to look around." "Ghostbur, was it?" "Uh huh!" "Guess I'll be seeing you around." Having finally found his cigarette, the one native to these lands waves him off, the soon-to-be lit stick inbetween his fingers. He begins to stroll off into the cover of forest. He's sure he's being silly but Ghostbur could have sworn the quantity of trees gains density as it conceals the other man. Still, Ghostbur has seemingly been left completely to his own devices so he comes to the decision he will spend the rest of the day exploring. It can't hurt to get a feel for his surroundings. Honestly, how monotonously repetitive could this world really be? --- This is fine. All this is a setback but not one they can't overcome. He'd meant it when he said he wouldn't force Ghostbur to do anything. This was all a waiting game, to be honest. He could win it with the mouth that had long ago rallied people to a cause. He once believed in the phrase 'words over weapons' and how nobody in L'Manburg should wear armour because they shouldn't need that level of protection on a daily basis. The reality of tyrannical violence had proved him wrong. However, it was a negotiation that ultimately won them the war, albeit not one he was part of. He still likes to think Tommy's success that day was potentially due in part to Wilbur rubbing off on his right hand man. So in the pursuit of victory, Wilbur vows to stay civil where possible. --- As Ghostbur wanders, he comes to realise how true Wilbur's summary had been. The longer he explores, the longer the green persists. This world truly seems to be comprised of forests and open fields. It's his third day of checking what each path may offer when he finds himself in the midst of trees. However, the woods here were familiar. All around him was birch bark. They're scattered about and nothing about them indicates a natural path that can be made. Yet, as Ghostbur walks, he seems to know instinctively how to navigate the area and the way in which he should weave through the trees. It surprises him to eventually discover a stream flowing by these woods. Yet, at the same time, he feels like he should have been expecting to find it. Why does this place feel familiar? Oh. This was where Alivebur met Tommy, wasn't it? He could almost picture it. He had been wandering around the area surrounding their latest base. At least this part of the world tended to have fairly warm Aprils. Even better after the two months Phil had made them spend in a tundra during winter. It was completely nonsensical and Wilbur had made sure Phil knew his thoughts on the matter beyond any doubt. But they'd evaded any of nature's potential attempts to make them hypothermic long enough to get through it. Now all Wilbur needed to focus on was enjoying the not-yet-scorching sunshine while Phil was... off collecting resources, he believes. He's sure he's slightly lost. The general direction of their temporary base, that was no problem to discern but the actual way to reach his destination? Who on earth knew. It was just birch tree after dumb birch tree. There weren't any of those markers that he'd been taught about either so it was like he was destined to get lost. But then, a break in the tree line? A stream, actually! He's sure Phil has the essentials like water down already but it wouldn't hurt to gather a bucketful more. Phil did lend him a chest for a reason, after all. It's not the cleanest nor clearest body of water he's ever seen. Who really cares when there's ways of purifying it. It does seem to go on for a great distance, further than Wilbur's eyes can tell. The stream itself isn't particularly wide. He reckons he could easily leap over from one side to the other. On the opposite side of the bank, there's a hole that seems to have been hollowed out by hand amongst all the mud. Rather bizarrely, there's also a random child lingering there. Wilbur was hardly an expert on determining someone's age, especially when it came to younger children. However, he'd soon know with hindsight that the little boy in front of him had been roughly 4 years old at that moment. Blond hair messy to the point it might be easier to shave it all off than attempt brushing it, clothes tattered and dirt visible in several spots of his skin, it was evident from this kid (regardless of their isolated surroundings) wasn't meant to be here. "Hey, are you lost?" "No. Go away." A thin branch makes an attempt at threatening him. "Are you planning to hit me with those sticks?" The little boy glances back at the pile nearby. "They're my Scary Ouchers." "Scary Ouchers. Uh-huh." He forces himself not to laugh. This kid must have undoubtedly been through a lot if he's out here on his own seemingly long term. "And am I scary?" "Maybe." "What if I tell you my name, will that help me be less scary?" "Dunno." "Well, I'm Wilbur. And I promise I'm not here to hurt you." The kid seems to shrink within himself slightly as he weighs whether this 11 year old stranger is worth trusting. "Tommy." "Tommy? Okay. Hi, Tommy. Do you want me to take you home?" "I have a home." "Then let me bring you back there. I'm sure your Mummy and Daddy are worried about you." "Got a home." He repeats, banging the stick in his hand against the earth. "Tommy," Wilbur sighs. "You get that this isn't a good home, right? Come on, I can take you to my camp. Me and my dad will help you out." Tommy's confliction persists until he tentatively raises a hand, all fingers folded inwards except for the smallest one. Wilbur giggles as understanding dawns. One pinky encompasses a much smaller one. "I promise I won't let anything happen to you, Tommy." "You sure?" "Just pinky promised, didn't I?" Tommy considers this then nods with all the solemnness that only a child his age could treat such a practise with. They gather up all of the so called 'Scary Ouchers', god Phil will probably get a kick out of hearing the story tonight, and dump them in the chest. With Tommy tasked with guarding their wares upon the shoddy wagon Wilbur had constructed himself ages ago, the older boy guides them back to camp. Phil is understandably confused when he sees another child by the tents. He quickly resigns himself to their new reality. The conclusion that there are no parents to speak of, at least not anymore, is kind of obvious. Any memory of them will be stolen by time and the inability of a developing mind to store any event for potentially lifelong recollection. It's fine though. The four year old has a new family now, one that will love him for years to come. And after they return home to the little house situated in a valley? Well, Wilbur's little brother only gains volume when he speaks and far too much energy the more comfortable he becomes with his new life. In response to this memory, he longs to have Tommy here, to be the good Alivebur who can be trusted to be on better terms with his little brother. The two of them used to be really close, despite how often they drove each other up the wall. But Ghostbur had seen how Tommy didn't seem too fond of Alivebur anymore. There was also the fact Alivebur had become bad at some point down the line, driving Tommy as well as others away. Because nobody is born bad and Ghostbur struggles to reason that an 11 year old boy who genuinely wished to help a homeless kid approximately a third of his age was bad too. Here, in this secluded area full of birch trees with flowing water as part of its soundtrack, Ghostbur imagines a teenager obnoxiously laying across his lap in the gentlest of ways. Tommy calls him a bitch through chuckles and playfully chastises him for being 'all sappy and shit'. It's reminiscent of moments that truly did come to pass once upon a time. His little brother once made him a daisy chain while in this very position but unfortunately, this was back when Fundy was still tiny and all it took was little hands being allowed to inspect the item before the stemmed links broke as a result of tears. It had still ended well, the remnants were sprinkled in Fundy's then-wispy hair while the baby's giggles joined the laughter of his father and uncle. God he misses Tommy. He hopes that one day, if- when he and Wilbur manage to reform into Alivebur, things will improve and they can have that again. --- By now, he knows not to expect Wilbur to look his way. It's okay, he's used to it. People would talk to him then struggle to continue fully politely hiding their desire for him to leave them to their own affairs. At least Wilbur is more willing to be upfront with it, he supposes. Wilbur has things he wants to do and so must Ghostbur. When the rain descended upon them yesterday, their conversation resulted in them clashing. Wilbur can come out with a spiteful anger without much provocation. It usually lies restrained on the surface but Ghostbur dreads when it is fully unleashed on him. For the most part, there is an understanding that for whatever reason, Ghostbur is not inclined to view him fondly. He wonders if his rejection of the merging request has anything to do with Wilbur's negative bias. Perhaps it is best that Wilbur keeps his distance. He doesn't want to believe that is the case though. It is for this very reason that Wilbur approaching him with an friendly offer takes him by surprise. "I'm going to visit Schlatt and Mexican Dream. Want to come? I think it would be interesting to see how you'd affect our dynamic. Plus, an even number of players means we could do teams." "Of course." A grin bursts onto his face. He follows Wilbur's lead as they traverse the path. He's getting used to the scenery but when he notices a mushroom his eyes had previously missed when passing by, he knows he's far from done yet. There is no time for admiration right now and he's fully aware Wilbur will outwardly make known his frustration otherwise. When they reach their destination, Wilbur tears a section of the bark off from a spruce tree. Instead of revealing more inner layers, a fully lit pathway stretches in front of them. "Well, go on. It's not like I can hold a rip in our reality open forever." "Oh!" He slips past obediently, watching Wilbur join him immediately afterwards. "You must be quite strong then if you do this regularly." "Sure. Became a real bodybuilder out here." The deadpan causes Ghostbur's attention to flick momentarily to the black sleeves that certainly aren't filled, least of all by muscles. The corridor practically belongs in an aquarium. The arching walls are made of glass, allowing for full view of all the dolphins, turtles and large variety of fish on display. The pathway itself is unusually wide but since they were heading to meet with Wilbur's friends, he can only assume they liked spending time here and therefore needed the space. Following each pair of glass panels were strips of wood upon which torches were hung. It created a lovely ambiance along with the shadows from the waves outside. To be fair, his only complaint is the temperature. It's freezing, nearly unbearably so. Perhaps they are in the sea by a tundra, sheets of ice floating above them on the surface. That would seem like a plausible answer. Ghostbur could spend a good long while here if he found a warmer outfit. "It's very pretty." "Yeah. Just wish I didn't keep having to see it for the first time each week." He wants to harness the inquisitiveness of a toddler in order to learn how exactly Wilbur would ever be able to forget a sight like this. But something tells him it's not the time nor place. Maybe the view out of the windows shifted with each visit. That seems like a decent explanation. So instead he comes out with "I like the lighting too." "Ghostbur," He momentarily glances back over his shoulder. "You can't expect me to create a dark single-file pathway. There's no steps to a dead end either, see." It's muttered with such quiet sincerity that Ghostbur questions what happened to the Wilbur who scorned him and carried an air of resentment towards everything. He wishes he had some blue to offer him right now. Whatever Wilbur's issue with dark and narrow corridors was, Ghostbur can tell it's awful, too awful for him to ever understand. As they make their way between areas, Wilbur debriefs him on what to expect. It nothing too elaborate, simply a few rounds of card games. Until they get too bored or fed up with each other. They mostly stuck to solitaire and poker if he's going to be honest. Sometimes they'd pull out board games for the sake of variety. The three of them had promised Monopoly was for when they wanted to watch the world burn which hadn't happened yet but there'd been threats to manifest a game the next time they all met up. First there was Schlatt. When Ghostbur completely blanks at the name, it is begrudgingly explained to him that this was the guy who succeeded Alivebur as president. No effort is made to hide the fact Wilbur does not view Schlatt's continued presence in his post-mortal existence in a positive light. He even admits to the game he played whereby he attempted to guess what the J in JSchlatt stood for. It did nobody any good but it served its purpose of annoying Schlatt quite well. The ex-president was a poker kind of guy which also caused clashes between them. Ghostbur is told to expect alcoholic drinks being available, especially the stronger varieties. The man's fatal heart attack hadn't been helped by his drinking habits so honestly, it seemed pretty much on brand. Either way, the less Ghostbur allowed himself to do with Schlatt, the better in Wilbur's opinion. The other member of the group was Mexican Dream. Ghostbur remembered Quackity, right? Well, Mexican Dream was his cousin. He'd been generous enough to allow Wilbur the opportunity to learn Spanish as a way to pass time. He shrugs when he says it's something to get up for. He wasn't the best student because he frequently missed scheduled meet-ups by accident or simply let practising what he'd learned when he did show up slip his mind. Regardless, Mexican Dream was an alright guy who tended to hang around Schlatt and Wilbur more for the sake of company half the time. You just had to watch out for when he began going on about his love life. Ghostbur's new, Wilbur warns, so as fresh ears he'd be a prime target for the laments regarding Mamacita. The other half of Alivebur wishes him luck if that becomes the case. Oh and before he forgets, don't ask about his death. Touchy subject apparently. The civilities go well. Given the warmth (or lack thereof) he receives, Ghostbur would say Wilbur's assessments of temperament weren't too far off. Ghostbur sticks by Mexican Dream's side throughout their games, chatting as they attempted to ignore the tension ever brewing between the former political leaders of L'Manburg while they played. Wilbur does not take long to lose his temper at Schlatt. "You can't put a joker directly under a king. Also they're both spades so not only are they in the wrong position of the sequence, they're the wrong colour and suit for that move to be legal." "You know, Wilbur, this is why I always say we should start with poker." "Oh you and your poker. If you love poker so much then why don't you make it your vice president so it can leave you the minute you piss it off one too many times." "You don't like poker because it's too hard for you to understand." "Says the one who can't even understand that a black king can't be immediately followed by a black joker." "Well at least I don't have a tell that even a newborn could recognise." "And at least I'm not so untrustworthy that two-faced is an understatement." Wilbur glares before adding an ever so succinct "Wanker." as his closing statement while he collapses back into the chair. "Asshole." "...I have a joker and it's red. Would you like it, Schlatt?" "Thank you, Ghostbur." Schlatt grins in a way that somehow makes Ghostbur wish he wasn't in his company. Wilbur's face gently slams into open palms. When his fingers are finished with their journey down his face, he plucks the offending card out of his counterpart's hold. "Put the card down. We can't start mixing packs like this." Wilbur abruptly rises to his feet. "Actually, you know what? Sod this. Between you and Tweedle Dum here, I feel like he's the lesser evil. Come on, Ghostbur, let's go back." Like a plus one whose only way in and out of the event was their invited friend, he has no choice but to follow Wilbur's lead. He would rather stay and get to know Mexican Dream better but it would seem it wasn't on the cards for today. He waves the pair goodbye. Mexican Dream returns it genuinely. Schlatt's smile comes across as sinister and his attention appeared to be on Wilbur as it was. "...I can see why you like Mexican Dream more." He comments in the tunnel home. "Yes, guy's less of a twat." He distracts himself from this disaster of a meeting with the marine life outside. It doesn't prove as effective as he would hope. --- He doesn't understand why or how but it seems that Wilbur has developed the ability to have a hunch as to where Ghostbur could be found. Today this hunch led him to a peaceful stream. The water flows uninterrupted and he can't recall the last time he was in the presence of such clear water. He suspects it goes on for a while before meeting a larger area of water. Ghostbur himself is seated by the bank, admiring the scenery surrounding them. He periodically remembers himself and returns his focus to a little notebook he was scribbling in. "What's this?" "Wilbur." The ghost lights up at the sight of him for whatever reason. He pats the ground beside him. "Come, sit here. It'll be fun." "I'm... I'm good thanks." "If you're sure." There's that wide smile again. There's no way he can't call major bullshit on it. "Has anyone told you how unnerving your constant good mood is?" "You're just saying that because you like being moody." "I'm saying it because it's the truth." He scrutinises his other half. "Nobody has the ability to be that positive 24/7." "I- Well, I do." There is an argument he could begin having with Ghostbur but he hasn't got the patience for it. "What are you writing about?" "Oh, this is my diary. I don't want to forget what I've been doing while here." Wilbur is struck with the desire- no, the need to discover what Ghostbur has been writing about him. As a general, intel was everything and as a fugitive, every bit of insider information had the potential to prove useful. Ghostbur correctly interprets his extended hand but still hesitates before adhering to the request. It's pointless though as there is nothing regarding himself to analyse. Day 8 (24/1/21) I am in the Void so I think the plan worked. I wish I could tell Phil because he seemed quite worried about the process failing. I have been counting the days at the back of this book because they all look the same and there doesn't seem to be any calendars anywhere. So I'm guessing it's January 24th right now. I think I'm getting used to the Void. Everything is very green but I like it. Exploring has been quite fun and Wilbur introduced me to a couple of his friends for a games night. The tunnel to get to them is beautiful but I think I'll need to craft a few campfires to help combat the cold there if I want to watch the wildlife. I also need more cornflowers to make blue with but they seem to be difficult to find which is a shame. I will have to keep looking but that's okay. Maybe I can convince Wilbur to help me if he's available. I'm at the stream where Alivebur met Tommy right now. I really like it. It reminds me of the picnics Alivebur used "A picnic?" "Yeah! Alivebur used to have lunch on a raft with his mum whenever they could find one. It was fun." "Good for us, I guess. I wouldn't know anything about that." Except maybe, it seems, he might. The feeling of feet bounding against the earth. Excited yelling. Ruffling of hair with something that wasn't an arm around his shoulder. An exasperated chuckle while something sweet was on his tongue. Playing lookout by a window. A contest that ends with a soggy lap. Surrounded by laughter and happy chatter. He realises what this is too late. As it fades, he chases it. No, come back. Don't leave. He needs it, even if it's the vaguest of scraps. Please, please, come back. "Wilbur?" "Sorry, I might have just spaced out for a minute. I was thinking about... about... I don't know, something." "Here." Ghostbur presents blue dye. "I haven't been able to find many cornflowers to make it but I think you should have some." "What's this for?" "You look like you're about to cry. Blue's very good at absorbing all your sadness away. You let it soak it all up and then throw it away. I promise it works. Honestly, try it." "Thanks but I'd rather not stain my hands with blue dye for the sake of humouring you. That shit takes forever to get off. Although... this does explain why your clothes are like that. I thought we'd be smarter than to wear something bright while frequently handling a substance that stains easily." "Well okay then. The offer's always there if you want it though." "I'm fine. Just need a breather. Don't uh... don't wait up for me or whatever." The worst thing is he has no clue why he's suddenly upset. Sitting on top of a hill, he overlooks land with the potential to be built upon, land that had seen construction in a world similar to this one. He's not sure if he's in the exact spot but it's close enough. In his mind's eye, L'Manburg springs into existence, a diagonal line cuts through the wall as it is destroyed by Fundy's pickaxe. Their country had come close to death before but that day had arguably been its last one. The reason why Tommy wasn't by his side in that moment is lost to him. A spark of resentment temporarily roars into a flame as he thinks of how his former right hand man should be present for this in a way more than simply joining in at the end of the anthem over a voice call. Oh who cares anymore? It doesn't matter now. Alone, he witnesses L'Manburg die before him for the... how many times was it now? At least if he's going to be mournful, he should mourn something he actually knows he's lost. --- The entry concludes with a final paragraph. I've also met Wilbur. He's the other part of Alivebur and he wants to fuse so we can be Alivebur again. We will have to eventually but he seems willing to wait. I hope he stays that patient because I don't know how long it will take me to say yes. In the meantime, I want us to become friends. He can be so dismissive and angry but despite how mean he seems, I think we could still get along if we really try. I think getting more blue should be on my list of priorities because he really needs it. Which reminds me, I need to draft a list of priorities. I think I should get on that as soon as I can so goodbye for now. --- Ghostbur makes the decision on the... well he needs to check his memory book to remember exactly what day it is but whatever today was, that was when he sets himself the goal of working on a house. It'll be a nice place, not too fancy (at least not at first, he can add to it later if he so desires) but it can be a lovely base for himself. Maybe Wilbur too, if he can get the other half of Alivebur to join him. The problem was he wasn't sure where to take inspiration from. He built a house for Tommy during their holiday and he really liked how that simple little place turned out. He also recalls Tubbo's house from when he and Tommy were messing around shortly following his arrival in the area. Now that house was very pretty. It would take some more effort to get right, especially when all he had for reference was the memory of it, but he feels it would be worth it if he wanted to go down a similar route in terms of design. Oh! Didn't Techno have a lovely looking cabin too? Perhaps he should keep that building in mind as well. Or he could come up with something new entirely. He wasn't sure yet. He thinks it may be best to experiment first. It's as he is figuring out the size and shape he'd prefer the ground floor to be that Wilbur comes across the soon to be construction site. Arms crossed, he doesn't look too impressed. But then again, when does he? "What is this?" "Oh hi, Wilbur. I thought I could build myself a house. It could be our house if you'd like. Or... Or maybe I could add a bedroom just for you if you already have a house." "I think I'll pass. Though this does explain all the missing oak trees around here." His gaze flicks to the pile of wood Ghostbur has gathered. "Anyway, you're just doing this by hand?" "How else would I be doing it?" "I have my ways. You probably have the same ones." The two of them venture through a taiga until they reach a hill overlooking an empty field of plains. Even before he truly lays eyes on their expanse of their destination, he can sense how far of a drop it would be to reach it without caution. "Wait!" The warning comes too late to have any effect. Wilbur leaps from the edge. Rushing forward instinctively, Ghostbur dreads the scene he is sure will be upsetting to witness. He shuts his eyes but risks a peak regardless. It's to his utter shock that Wilbur stands waiting, perfectly fine. "I know we pretty much have all the time in the world but I'd rather not spend it waiting for you to get on with it and jump already." "You're not hurt?" "What? No, of course not. Why would I-?" Realisation arrives and Wilbur's only reaction to it seems to be an eye roll. "We're dead, you idiot. When was the last time your feet actually touched the ground? In fact, when was the last time you even had feet?" "Oh." "Yeah." Wilbur continues to walk ahead, using an arm to beckon Ghostbur in the right direction. "Now come on." Once they settle on a spot for the demonstration, wooden blocks materialise without warning. They arrange themselves into an empty birch cube that is perhaps twice as tall as they are. It's not a complex structure, pretty non-descript. Ghostbur had been hoping to be a bit more ambitious with his construction work than this. However, he supposes Wilbur is simply only showing him the basics. There's no need to go overboard in an attempt to show off. "It's pretty simple, really. All you have to do is picture what you want and boom," A final block of birch comes into existence. "It shows up without much effort. It saves a lot of time and hassle. Got it? How about you summon a torch to test it out." He imagines a stick. Even a branch will do, he feels. As he does so, a weight grows in his hand with the appearance of a long brown object. The stick he summons is actually fairly substantial once it solidifies. For extra measure, he concentrates on the tip. He devotes his thoughts to warmth and autumnal bonfires and an orange glow then- Oh! Well, next time he should make sure he's careful when causing spontaneous combustion. "See? Easy. Now toss it here." With the rudimentary house completed and torch in hand, Wilbur carelessly allows the flame to linger too close to the wood. Ghostbur is unable to cry out a warning before the building is set alight. It gradually dawns on him that, somehow, this was a deliberate action to achieve this consequence. It leaves Ghostbur more lost regarding the workings of the other man's thoughts than ever. "What is the point in this? I don't... I don't understand." "It's warm." He acts as if this is the obvious answer. "Do you feel it, Ghostbur? Do you feel the cold, the way any and all sources of heat seem to be sapped while you try to make the most of them? You've been here days, you must feel it. Took me a day to recognise what it was. It's the Void, Ghostbur, it's the Void. It- It- It takes the heat from this place. We could be standing in the middle of the fucking desert right now but you'd still feel a chill, like someone left the window open and caused a draft. I... you know, I made this place to get away from it but it followed me regardless. Just... got muted, I guess. I carved out a little bit of the Void. Not even that big. It simply feels that way because it's like in those drama productions where you have the scenery on a rotator or whatever it's called. Not using it? Just poof, gone on standby or- or taped over. Mixing my metaphors here." "Stop standing there before you're on fire." "Hmm? Oh, don't worry about that. Doesn't scar or anything. I can reverse any damage, make it seem like it never happened." "Just get out of it." The ghost reaches out to his friend. Wilbur steps back to avoid him. "Ghostbur, I'm fine. I only want to be warm." "I can make a fire if you want. A normal one, in a pit." "Like I haven't made a bonfire before. You really think I haven't tried that?" "Let's get some water. You just have think about it, don't you?" "Wait, no! I tend to watch it burn. Gives me something to do." "O-Okay." So they witness the structure's demise to fire. Ghostbur mourns the loss of the materials that seem to be going to waste for the sake of entertainment. He can't help but succumb to the desire to be enraptured. The flames dance with curls and bows and sways. He breaks his gaze away to glance at Wilbur, curious to see if he is having a similar experience as him. His companion has only a hardened expression to show, one that pairs a set jaw with calculating eyes. Yet a light, separate to that reflected from the fire, can be spotted dwelling within those same eyes. What one finds aesthetically pleasing albeit wasteful, the other studies as if he can learn how to tame it in order to command it to do his immoral bidding. --- Wilbur thinks of buttons. How technically easy they are to press. How, despite this fact, he'd been getting closer and closer to a dozen attempts before bailing. How one of his last memories (from the ones he'd been oh so generously permitted to keep) was that of burning. Fire is destruction, the chaos of something that aims to consume indiscriminately, a means to an end. But at the same time this is safe, controlled, something he can force to stop if it goes too far. There are 101 reasons why he has every right to hate Ghostbur. More, he'd argue actually. Since they became two, he's been left with the shortest end of the stick. Ghostbur got to go have fun and enjoy himself, got the opportunity to act like everything had always been alright since he'd deliberately discarded the evidence that suggested otherwise. And the personified form of the discarded evidence had simply been forced to endure the nightmares, to desperately avoid triggers he's not willing to confront in any shape or form yet, to attempt to find comfort in familiarity regardless of why an object or location may seem familiar to him. He's done this before. Not every day, mind you. He's not that big of a masochist to pull that shit. Perhaps once or twice in the span of what might be considered a fortnight, if that. Other times he's simply not done anything for a while. But Wilbur has gone through this process before. He has stood in flammable structures and allowed the flames to take their course. He hacks when the smoke increases to the point of becoming overwhelming. It hurts, of course it does (it's fire for crying out loud). Yet when he leaves the scene of arson, any blisters that have begun bubbling on his skin disappear at his command. The main incentive to act so stupidly is to remember. He can recall bombs and the devastation of witnessing his safety being ripped away before his eyes. Over and over, he attempts to confront the things that keep him up at night. The door is always right there, waiting to be flung open the second he decides it is more than enough for that session. In Albert Einstein's eyes, he could qualify to be called insane. He would disagree but then again, they are using different definitions. While alive, he had developed a smoking habit. It began as something to help alleviate stress. Then not inhaling nicotine ironically became a source of stress for him. That's how addictions form, he supposes, with stupid destructive cycles such as his. The inherent need to risk slowly killing his lungs for the sake of feeling relatively decent didn't seem to carry over to Ghostbur. Lucky bastard, always getting the better end of the deal. By his design, most likely. Be civil, he reminds himself, since it will increase his chances of securing victory. Now that Ghostbur is here, he is a step closer to getting what he's wished for since they'd died. It is only a matter of time before he rediscovers the peace of being whole once more. What he hopes will be peace. Wilbur thinks of buttons and fires and explosions. Most importantly though, he thinks of how nice it must be to witness something subjectively beautiful and not question a myriad of life choices. --- Ghostbur didn't appreciate the loneliness. Back down with everyone else, his friends and family either tolerated his company or told him to leave them alone. Even the friendlier ones had a habit of getting tired of him hanging out with them for too long. Sometimes he happened to catch them when they were busy. It was fine and certainly no big deal. Everyone needs alone time. Wilbur, for instance, likes a lot of alone time. Then there were those that Alivebur hurt and struggled to not be reminded of the man they once knew whenever Ghostbur was around, like Phil and Tommy. It was nobody's fault. He did have a striking resemblance to his pre-death counterpart. All this in consideration, Ghostbur could really a friend. Or perhaps more specifically, a Friend. He's seen Wilbur do this practically effortlessly so how hard could this be? He thinks the best way to go about this is to take it slow and begin at the bottom. He brings himself to an open space so he can have as few obstacles during this important moment as possible. Two pairs of hooves appear, already upright on the grass. With them comes four legs then a torso adorned in naturally blue wool which is accompanied by a tail. When the process comes to an end, Ghostbur is met with a familiar face. He wraps his arms around the neck of his closest companion in a hug. "Hi, Friend. I've really missed you. We can hang out whenever Wilbur is being grumpy or wants to be alone. Would you like that? Maybe we can even convince him to like you too. But that might be hard since he doesn't seem to like anyone." He feels it should be common courtesy for Ghostbur to introduce Friend to Wilbur. After all, his twin had already extended that courtesy to him the other day. --- "Wilbur!" There is no need for him to acknowledge the voice calling out his name. Even if he didn't recognise the owner of said voice, there is no-one else it could be. Yet when he does, he isn't sure whether to curse his reflexes for making him see the sight in general or be grateful for the minute's forewarning it grants him. Encouraged to tag along with Ghostbur is an affront to nature. "So..." He begins when the two visitors are near enough. "The sheep." "Yeah! His name is Friend. I had a sheep just like him when I was with everyone else so I thought he could keep me company while I'm here." He's not even sure how to respond to this development. He simply stares at the animal as he attempts to process it. It's so weird because he swears the sheep has one of those rare genetic variations where their wool is quite literally blue naturally. It's obviously not been dyed at all because you can tell with that sort of thing. Somehow, Ghostbur has straight up manifested a sheep with a rare coat colouring. He wants to be more thrown off by it than he is. Yet he struggles to do so. Because, in the several days since he's met the one he shares a face with, he can't truthfully claim he's surprised. "Friend, huh? Well, you really have a knack for coming up with names, don't you?" "I guess." "You asked me the other day what you should call me. You seem to love these cute little versions of our name. Given the way I treat you, I'm surprised you haven't been tempted to call me Meanbur or Sadbur or even Why-The-Fuck-Won't-You-Take-A-Hint-And-Just-Leave-Me-Alonebur?" Ghostbur hesitates, clearly a little shocked by this outburst. He quickly corrects himself, changing his expression instead to something more akin to content thoughtfulness. "Oh, I know! What do you think of Soulbur? I like Soulbur. Because you're half of his soul." "Fine, whatever makes you happy. Though if you really need to bother someone, I'd rather you go to Schlatt or MD." "But do you like Friend?" He glances back at the sheep for the sake of humouring his twin. "I... I suppose it's alright for a sheep. Don't want too much to do with it though. It's your pet." "He is more than a pet." And it comes off as if he's offended him. "He's well, he's Friend." "Gho- It is a sheep. I get that you're attached to it- him so you're hardly planning to serve mutton anytime soon but he's still just a bloody sheep." As he distances himself from Ghostbur to escape this nonsense, his ears catch muttered assurances that 'Soulbur' was not worth listening to. Plus, what kind of name was 'Friend'? His ghostly counterpart sounded like a child who'd decided their stuffed toy deserved a name to fit the role of lifelong companion. He'd retaliate but he's far from in the mood. --- Okay, as it turns out, he does begin to get used to the new moniker. For one thing, it's easier to differentiate himself from their pre-death self (though Ghostbur seems to have that covered thanks to his insistence of using 'Alivebur'). Soulbur likewise continues to tolerate him for the sake of civility. Hence why he's sat by a small fire and performing the absolutely redundant task of eating a meal. No matter how much he attempts to explain neither of them physically need sustenance, Ghostbur remains persistent on his thoughts regarding the issue. "No cows were harmed in the making of this steak." "Oh that's good." Ghostbur beams. "And you made a joke. You don't do that often." "Listen, I might not have a reason to laugh anymore but I do still have a sense of humour." "You know, you sound like Techno when you speak. All serious and bored." "Doesn't surprise me." He mutters. "Besides, you're the one who kept the happier emotions in the split. I'd be worried if I didn't sound like I have the more exhausting ones." "What?" "What are you confused about? You said you can't remember upsetting things, right? Well where did you think they went, the back of your mind, left stranded in the void- no, actually I suppose that one is technically true. Either way, the oversimplified version of events is that you got the good stuff and I got the bad." There is silence but there is also calm. From it, Soulbur gains the courage to put forward one of the questions he's been deliberating on for a good long while. "Ghostbur…" He frowns. "How did we die?" "You don't remember?" "No. For some fucked up reason, we apparently thought so low of ourself that it was a good memory. That or you took it to spite me." "I-" Soulbur holds his hand up. "No excuses, no rambling in the hopes you can beat around the bush. I just want the truth. Because all I can remember is Phil showing up, us getting frustrated then this unbearable pain as if... as if something was cooking us from the inside. I don't know I- it just hurt. A lot. Then we were dead. So what the hell happened to us?" The ghost is focused on fiddling with the sleeves of his yellow jumper. "I don't want to say." "Bad memory then. So... an unnecessary theft. As much as I hate to admit it, that was supposed to be mine if it was traumatic." "Wasn't nice but it was a good moment." "Well, was it good or bad? Make up your mind! I told you, I didn't want any messing around. I'm not expecting an essay from you, only a sentence or two." He groans. "Okay, how about this since you can't give me a straight answer. Did we press the button, yes or no?" "We did." "Brilliant! We got somewhere. I suspected it was burning debris but couldn't be sure. That's all I wanted." Soulbur manages only a handful of steps before his twin's voice is heard once more. "It wasn't debris. The explosion didn't kill us." "Then what did?" If his patience wore any more thin, somebody would have to pull out a microscope to view it. Ghostbur appears conflicted, ever tugging on his sleeves. "Phil was the Saint George to our dragon. He stopped us from hurting anyone else." "Whoa whoa whoa, hang on that's- Phil wasn't always the best parental figure to us, I know that, but he would never... kill us. That is not the kind of guy he is." "We asked him to." "Why would we-" "Don't ask me. You're the one who's always grumpy. You should know." Ghostbur argues back. "Even if we begged him on our hands and knees, as shitty as he could sometimes be, Phil would never cause us deliberate harm." "But he did." Soulbur visibly mulls this over in his mind before a scowl settles on his face. "Can't win, can you? Unbelievable. Couldn't even trust Phil to be on our side." "But he-" "He was supposed to take care of us. I can excuse him not being father of the year because he only took us in out of pity so we wouldn't end up on the streets. But the bare minimum I would have expected from him is to not kill the kid he's raised since they were little." "I don't know what you want me to say. You said you wanted the truth? Well the truth is Phil stabbed us with a sword because we asked him to. It was a... it was a sword with fire aspect, I think. That's why you think it hurt." "I don't think it hurt. I know it hurt." "Can we stop talking about this? I don't like it." "No. No, we are talking about this. I'm not letting you slink off at the first hint of something upsetting, Mr Repression." "I'm not slinking off. I just don't want to think about this." "Well, welcome to my life, every single bloody day since you ran off. At least you have the privilege of avoiding it." "Stop it! Stop it! Why do always have to be so- so- I'm going to find Friend. At least he's nice to me." "You are literally proving my point right now." "I don't care." "Fine! Piss off then. That's what you seem to do best, cry and run away at the slightest bit of trouble. But you can't do this forever, you know. You're going to have to accept we've been through a lot of shit one day." And for the first time in what he believes has been roughly two weeks, Ghostbur frowns. It is not the slight frown from whenever he is unsure or downtrodden, Soulbur's seen that before. Those times had been more akin to a pout. No, this expression has been witnessed by him before. He saw this occasionally in his reflection while alive, especially in the lead up to the festival and war between Manberg and Pogtopia when he'd been steeling himself to play his role in it all. So perhaps frown is not the most accurate word for it. Ghostbur glares, he scowls, he glowers. And then the façade breaks as if the universe cannot permit an angry Ghostbur to exist. Dark blue pools by his eyes and begins to spill down his face. Soulbur doesn't think he's seen his other half cry either actually. It doesn't feel right, watching the one who kept going about everything with a smile cry and descend into sobs while he's at it. The universe doesn't swiftly correct itself at this though so Soulbur will have to make of that what he will. "I'm going to find Friend." Ghostbur repeats. And that is that for the calm dinner between both halves of the same person.

[inscribed-in-asteroids]

AN: Here’s chapter four! We get into some character interaction.

Title: The Ripple Effect

Canon Characters: Entrapta, Hordak, Scorpia, Perfuma, Mermista, Seahawk, mentions Catra and Adora

Original Characters/Fankids: Odessa, Hydrangea, Tristan, features Adam and Molly

Pairing (i.e. ones having actual moments): Entrapdak, Scorfuma

Rating: M

Read on AO3. It always has more info there.

                                                      Venture

Entrapta places her recorder in her pocket, done for the time being. There have been advancements in the settlement on Beast Island. It continues to grow in size and technology, and contains more portals than other places on Etheria. Most places only have one portal, with Bright Moon having a few. The Whispering Woods contains the second-highest amount after Beast Island, predominantly so that if anyone gets lost, they will eventually find a portal and land in one of the main kingdoms, with that particular portal having that kingdom’s crest.

She and her lab partner have been diligent in the upkeep of Beast Island. It had taken time for the island to become fertile. First One’s tech had buried its roots deep within the earth, far below what anyone but drones could see. Soil had melded with machine, somehow: dirt containing minerals that were not of Etheria, and when they attempted to dig out the First One’s tech—mostly from the other princesses’ insistence that it be done—they learned their mistake when slumbering beasts and inanimate plants had sprung to life and attempted to kill them. That had been terri-fun-fying!

But it did confirm what Hordak and she suspected: Beast Island and the First One’s tech had morphed into one gigantic organism. A problem to be sure, however, they also proposed a radical hypothesis: by changing the code of First One’s tech, they could alter the parasitic relationship to a symbiotic one. That had been a major doozy, since there was so much, but it worked! The island had released its many species from its catatonic state, and they had called She-Ra to aid the process run smoother with her magic.

The First One’s tech proved to be a valuable asset in not only repairing Beast Island, but creating a thriving metropolis that used the natural resources and ancient machinery available. Buildings, bridges, plumbing, aqueducts, everything made by Horde clones was molded around the landscape. They were determined to function alongside the proper residents of Beast Island.

 It really surprised everyone how well they behaved when not obeying the rules of a tyrannical madman.

Entrapta found life on Beast Island exciting and peaceful at the same time. Being the princess of Dryl, she would still go to her old home, but she pretty much gave it to Wrong Hordak and the other clones who desired to live a little closer to the other kingdoms, to mend relations and have a better comprehension of the way Etheria works. Hordak’s brothers were curious, inventive and engaging once they were free, and went through rehabilitation to cope with the loss of Prime.

They were all so cute!

Entrapta looks to her left, watching Hordak move around the room. He keeps his eyes on the clipboard, hair falling over his forehead. He taps the back of it with his fingers, humming to himself as he kneels down to inspect a piece of equipment.

Entrapta smiles, propping her cheek against her hand.

Hordak senses a gaze on him, and he looks at her, smiling, “Did you need anything?”

“No, I’m content,” she says. But none as cute as him.

                                                                -

Odessa disembarks first, greeted by several of her uncles, her parents and siblings. Imp flies toward her, landing lightly against her back. She instinctively moves to the piggyback position, kissing his cheek. Emily whirs happily, and she leans over to kiss the top of her dome.

“Find anything fascinating?” Imp plays back in Entrapta’s voice.

“Yes! There was a lot on the flagship that we had to explore,” she says.

“Ooh, what’d you get?” Entrapta herself asks, hanging upside down from a rafter.

“I’ll show you in a bit. Right now, I need these two to go,” Odessa says, annoyed.

“Your friends?” Hordak asks, confused.

“No,” she points at Adam and Molly, who are standing behind Tristan and Hydrangea.

“What are you two doing there?” Entrapta asks.

Adam, shameless, grins at her, “Oh, we snuck up on the ship! It was awesome!”

Entrapta blinks, surprised by this development. She furrows her brows, “Wait, so you two were on the ship for that long?”

“Yeah, it was great!” Adam says, jumping over to stand by Odessa. “Can’t wait to do it again!”

Odessa glares at him, the urge to grind him underfoot intense, “You could’ve jeopardized the mission!”

“Uh, but we didn’t? I don’t see the problem,” Adam replies, folding his arms.

“The problem is that we had to have two additional people on board! Our supplies were meant for three, you’re lucky we had spares!”

Entrapta moves in, looking at Adam, holding his arms out with her hair, “Ooh, so you used my suits! Tell me, did it affect your mobility? What was your heartrate? Can you grab me your suit so I can scrape your skin cells off the inside?”

“Mom, please,” Odessa begs. “I want to yell at this idiot!”

“I know, sweetie, but can’t it wait ‘til after I pluck some hairs?”

“No way, you can’t go plucking my hair!” Adam protests.

Odessa whirls on him, poking his shoulder not-too-gently, “You get involved with my mission and you think you’re in any position to object to anything!”

Hydrangea approaches her, “Des, calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when he gets out of my sight! Having to deal with you for this long was torture!”

Entrapta hovers over Adam’s head, measuring his body with her tape, lost in thought. 

“Entrapta,” Hordak says, getting her, and their, attention. “Perhaps this is the time to lay out ground rules.”

“Oooh, gotcha!” Entrapta swings over to him, sitting atop her hair in a swift motion. She nods at Hordak.

He walks forward, hands behind his back, coming up to Adam and Molly. Molly shrinks under his scrutiny, while Adam has the decency to look like he fucked up for once. “I will send the two of you home by portal immediately. I will be speaking with your mothers to inform them of your behavior, to ensure neither of you tell them anything different.”

Molly groans inwardly, knowing she’ll be the only one to care. Adam is likely forgetting everything as it’s said.

Adam’s ears flatten against his head, annoyed, “Dude, no offense, but we didn’t do anything to risk her mission.”

“It is not a matter of you managing to be competent aboard the ship,” Hordak chastises. “It is the matter that you were not privy to the information or mission itself to begin with. Your inability to think ahead has always been a problem.”

“But—”

“Do not argue with me,” Hordak whispers, deadly quiet, leaning close. At Adam’s silence, he pulls back. “The two of you will accompany me to the portal now. Come.”

Adam keeps from huffing, crossing his arms, ears pressed to his head. Molly rubs her left arm, looking over her shoulder.

Tristan meets her gaze, giving her a reassuring smile.

With that, she follows her brother and Hordak.

Odessa turns to her mother once they’re out of range, “I found some things on the ship that I know you’ll be interested in.”

Entrapta squeals, “Oooh, I can’t wait to see it!”

Hydrangea yawns, patting Entrapta’s shoulder, “I’ll have to see you all tomorrow, I need to go home and see how things have been.”

“Aaaaw, so soon?” Entrapta asks.

“Unfortunately,” Hydrangea says, hugging her tight. “I’ll be back later after I get some rest.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gea,” Odessa says, opening her arms for a hug of her own. Hydrangea shakes her a little, the two laughing, before heading toward the portal. Odessa looks up, “What about you, Tris?”

He shrugs, “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“You’re welcome to hang out with us!” Entrapta shouts.

Emily spins in place, beeping with excitement.

“Awesome,” Tristan says, giving Imp a high-five as he flies around his head. “I can hang out with your siblings while you and your Mom talk science.”

Odessa touches her mother’s shoulder, “So, do you think Dad is going to be gone a while?”

“He does have to talk to Adora and Catra, so probably,” she replies.

“Okay, because maaaybe I should show you one of the things I found without him.”

Tristan raises a brow, while Entrapta blinks in puzzled silence.

                                                              -

“Oh my,” Entrapta breathes, peering into the case. “That’s my girl! Not a single mark or blemish on it.”

Odessa grins, “I know! It came out perfect.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to let your dad know?” Entrapta asks a second time. “I think he might find it interesting, too.”

Odessa’s lips are pursed for a moment, folding her arms across her chest. She sighs, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell Dad. I’ll ask him some questions to hint about it, I suppose, but I don’t know how he will feel about it.”

“I think it would be best to be upfront,” Entrapta says.

Odessa bites her lip, uncertain.

Entrapta continues to study the brain in the jar. These discoveries could be important, but she understands her daughter’s concern. Hordak has been making reparations for decades now, but when it enters especially sensitive territory about his time serving Horde Prime, he becomes sullen, despondent and incapable of holding a good mood. She doesn’t blame her husband either. That’s a part of his past that continues to pain him. The years have softened his heart, and he feels shame and guilt every day for things he had done. She doesn’t want to lie to him, but she doesn’t want to hurt him either.

She imagines that’s how her daughter feels. Ethical dilemmas are her least favorite kind.

“I will see how he feels by implication,” Odessa reaffirms. “I won’t do more than that, at present.”

Entrapta nods, not liking any of this, but standing by her child’s decision. She takes the jar in her hands, “We will study it later. Why don’t you go and take this to your room?”

“Alright, I’ll put it away real quick. I’ll be back to show you and Dad the other thing I found,” Odessa says, jumping toward the ceiling and heading into the vents.

Entrapta sighs, then her smile returns when she hears Hordak’s voice from behind, conversing with Tristan.

“You’re more than welcome to spend the night,” Hordak offers, clasping his hands behind his back. “We have plenty of rooms to accommodate your needs.”

Entrapta bounds over, eager, “We’re having mini pancakes in the morning!”

Tristan smiles at them, “Thank you! I’d be happy to.”

Odessa hops down at this moment, grabbing him into a headlock, “Cool! If Gea was here, it’d be like old times!”

Chuckling, Tristan pats her forearm, signaling for release, and she obliges. He gives a yawn and stretches, “I’m gonna head to bed, then.”

“Imp, Emily, can you show him to his room?” Odessa asks.

More than happy to, the three exit the room, leaving Odessa and her parents in the sanctum. She walks to her bag, “There wasn’t much on the flagship, but I did discover this.”

Hordak and Entrapta stare at shining fragments, clattering softly on the table. Entrapta holds one in a hair strand, “Pretty! Where was this?”

“It seemed to have been located in one of Prime’s trophy rooms.”

“Look, hon,” Entrapta says, holding it up to Hordak. “The craftsmanship for this must’ve been delicate and precise.”

Hordak takes it between his fingers, inspecting it slowly, quietly. It does have an air of elegance. He somewhat recalls seeing it before in that room. Lined with trinkets from planets no longer around. Hordak frowns, placing it on the table, “Did you find anything else?”

Odessa considers her words carefully. She says, “I did find an area that had past Primes.”

“Was it intact?”

“More than we expected.”

“Did anything of consequence come about?”

“I did interact with one of the bodies,” Odessa tells him. “But it’s nothing that important.”

Hordak peers closely at her, and Entrapta glances at the ground, trying not to pull down her mask.

“An entire vicinity filled with inanimate bodies, and you didn’t do anything with them?” Hordak asks.

“Not really. I turned one on by accident, though, so I got to take a close look at it.”

“That must’ve been elucidating, on some degree, I suppose,” Hordak scowls, tilting his head. He adds, “Well, there’s no need to go to the flagship anymore.”

“I know, Dad,” Odessa says, sitting on the table. “That part’s done with.”

Hordak pats her head, an unexplainable relief coming to him.

Odessa’s stomach grumbles, and she gives a sheepish grin, “Oh, guess I’m hungry.”

Entrapta beams, “Late-night snacks! We got lots of fizzy drinks! I missed my little drinking buddy.”

Laughing, Odessa hops to her feet, “Mom, the day we get actually drunk together is gonna be nuts.”

                                                              -

Tristan wakes up to the sound of scuttling on the walls. Seeing Imp climbing around, Tristan closes his eyes, getting drowsy again.

“Morning!” Odessa yells, jumping on top of him.

Tristan throws her off him, smirking as she falls, “Des, I’m sleeping…”

Landing with ease, she stands, arms akimbo, “But don’t you want to eat?”

He debates whether to leave the warm comfort of the bed or enjoy the warm comfort of mini pancakes.

Noooooo…

“Gea’s bringing the really good syrup,” Odessa teases, poking his shoulder with her hair.

He opens one eye.

Tristan doesn’t take much convincing afterward, pouring caramelized fruit syrup onto an assortment of small pancakes, his third helping. Hydrangea pours him and her a cup of green tea with lemon, setting his cup down in front of him. He says thanks with a full mouth, and she smiles at him.

Odessa, on her third plate too, licks her lips, “This is so good! You’re turning into a pro at making syrups.”

“Thank you,” Hydrangea blushes. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Taking a healthy sip of his tea, not minding the burn, Tristan lets out a satisfied sigh, “You keep this up, there’s no way I’ll be able to move.”

Entrapta looks up from her plate, peering closely at his face, “Have you been experiencing a slack in your metabolism? Are your joints functioning, or are you showing signs of muscle atrophy?”

Tristan smiles reassuringly, “No, no, I’m okay. The food’s just delicious.”

“It is!” Entrapta says, returning to her meal. She turns to Hordak, “Do you want to try any?”

“Hmm…” Hordak looks at the sweet cakes, drizzled with thick syrup. All of it golden in color. Pleasing to the eye, but he isn’t sure.

Entrapta grins at him, expectant.

“Very well,” Hordak says, taking her fork. He tries to not be aware of the eyes on him. Giving it a delicate sniff, he sticks it into his mouth, chewing meticulously. Thinking.

He looks at Hydrangea, giving a nod, “Excellent work.”

“T-Thank you!” she stammers, beyond shocked. She is going to remember this compliment for the rest of her life.

Entrapta, delighted he had a good experience, finishes up the rest of her food. Getting up, she announces, “Well, we’ll see you later! Hordak and I have a lot of work to do, so we won’t see you until tonight.”

“Alright, Mom,” Odessa says. “You two have a good day!”

Squealing at how adorable she is, Entrapta kisses her face multiple times as she says goodbye. Hordak pats her head before joining his lab partner.

“So,” Tristan begins, dabbing his mouth. “What are we up to today?”

Odessa turns to him, “I was thinking we might begin preparing for our next trip.”

Hydrangea sips her tea, “Our next trip will be when, do you think?”

“Preferably, sooner than later, and I am going to begin preparations in the coming days,” Odessa explains. “The next trip is going to be significantly longer, even with using portals.”

“How long do you expect?” Tristan asks.

“It might be more than a year,” Odessa answers.

“Oh!” Hydrangea says, setting down her cup. “More than a year… Where are we going?”

“I’d been thinking about it since we left the flagship,” Odessa says. “I think it would be provident to visit my uncles on Inicos. If no one on Etheria knows, maybe I have relatives that can give me better answers there.”

Tristan and Hydrangea glance at each other, both wondering what it would take to prepare it all.

“I understand it’s a lot,” Odessa tells them, aware that they’re unsure. “There’s no rush, since it will take a little time to prepare. I will inform you before we launch. Take your time to figure it out!”

Hydrangea smiles at her, “Alright, that’s good. It might take my parents a little convincing.”

“And you, Tris?”

“I’m sure I can figure something out with my folks,” Tristan replies.

“Excellent. I have a little bit to do around here for a couple hours, but I’ll meet up with you both later today.”

“That’s fine, I got stuff to do too,” Tristan stands, stretching out his arms.

Hydrangea claps her hands together, “I’ll see you guys later!”

                                                               -

Tristan doesn’t go home.

He swims through the ocean for several hours, thinking. Enveloped in the comfort of water, Tristan swims further down into the water, the light dissipating as he descends. Tristan looks to his side, shadows moving in the liquid black. He reaches out, skimming the surface of smooth skin. The aquatic behemoth lets out a sound of greeting, its voice thrumming through the water.

Swimming deeper, the pressure intensifying, darkness consuming his sight. He senses the scales of another animal, and it swims beside him for a while, enjoying his company. He loves to come down here. Communicate with all the oddities beneath the ocean, gliding along its floors, descending into greater trenches.

Despite what people think, the bottom of the ocean isn’t silent. There’s a cacophony of sound here, all varied in tone, pitch, and layered.

His mother never went beyond where dolphins ranged. Her demeanor, his father had told him, has remained exactly the same since they were young adults. But she has a penchant for cuter creatures, spending her time with more mammalian ocean-life.

His interest in creatures from dark depths was something she had no qualm telling him wasn’t to her taste. The first time he told her he would like to go out and swim into less shallow ends, she looked at him like he was bluffing. Like what he was telling her was a mere joke. At his insistence, she gave in, with much reluctance.

They swam toward the black, but never entered past where the dim sunlight ended. She told him it was an uninteresting place down there, and was rather disgusting. Made it obvious that she thought his choice was inferior to her own.

Tristan didn’t ask her to accompany him after that. He would only tell her he was going out, until it got to the day he knew it didn’t matter if he informed her of his whereabouts or not. She occupied her time and he was expected to do the same.

Being in this unfathomable space, he found a sense of peace. There was so much life here, unseen and unwanted by all above the surface.

He isn’t sure if anyone in his family had this desire for the darkness of the ocean, but he knows that he takes after his grandfather. Where once, Tristan shared the similar dolphin tail to swim, the more time he spent on his own, exploring, sensing, he found his own identity. His fin elongated, skin becoming sharp. No longer as agile or fast, but powerful all the same.

He pushes onward, tail propelling him downward still. Lost in thought and the feeling of not knowing where to go, but believing that if he keeps moving, he’ll eventually reach somewhere.

                                                               -

“I don’t like it,” Perfuma objects, arms crossed.

Hydrangea bites back a sigh, “Mom, it won’t be forever.”

“I think she’ll be able to handle herself,” Scorpia says.

“But for more than a year—”

Hydrangea sets down her teacup, “Mom, I know you’re worried about what will happen, but I would be among friends. And we would use a portal to help speed up the trip.”

Perfuma frowns, looking down at the table.

Scorpia turns to her daughter, “Hydrangea, hon, where is it you’re going again?”

“Inicos,” she explains again. “That planet where a majority of her uncles went to.”

Scorpia turns to her wife, “See, that’s good! That’s a planet where she’ll be more than okay.”

Perfuma rubs her temples. The idea of Hydrangea being gone for that long isn’t one that is sitting well with her. She would prefer if she remained in place. A child needs roots; what good would it do her to be away from home for that long? And there’s the fact it’s Odessa. There is no chance that this will be a one time thing. Hydrangea has been her friend for years; Odessa is too much like her mother—fixated on her goals.

“Mom, I don’t see any reason why you should be against this,” Hydrangea tells her.

Perfuma rises from her seat, “I’m going to bed. I will think about this.”

Hydrangea watches her mother go, knowing better than to continue her argument.

Scorpia sighs, “I’ll see if I can talk to her about it later.”

“Okay. There’s time left, but I would prefer to know sooner than later. You know how Odessa can be,” she replies, smiling.

Scorpia nods, sipping from her mug. There’s no reason for Perfuma to reject the notion, and with little base to go on. She knows Perfuma means well. She always does. 

Once she encourages Hydrangea to retire for the evening as well, Scorpia leans against her bedroom door; she stares at Perfuma, brushing long yellow hair. Approaching her, Scorpia leans down to kiss the top of her head.

“I’m not wrong to be worried,” Perfuma says.

“I know.”

“I just…” Perfuma trails off, gently setting down her brush. “Hydrangea is growing up so fast, and I would prefer that she spend her time here, with her family.”

“I know it can be difficult. But when I was her age, I was getting ready to go out into the world.”

“Not for good reasons,” Perfuma says.

“The reasons aren’t really the point,” Scorpia says, holding up flaxen locks in a claw. She tried brushing Perfuma’s hair, once; she clipped right through it, and, horrified, she refrained from touching her for a good while. With practice, she can do it now, but only because she forced herself to try again. Even now, though, she feels… out of place. Bizarre and incongruous. She doesn’t want Hydrangea to lose her connections. To feel alone, and not know who she is. “The point is to let her discover what she wants out of her life.”

Perfuma reaches behind her, trailing her fingers along Scorpia’s jaw, “I know…”

“Give it some thought, at the very least,” Scorpia tells her.

Glancing down, Perfuma meets her wife’s eyes in the mirror, “I will see how I feel.”

                                                                -

The brain floats in its case. Undisturbed.

Odessa furrows her brows, wondering what she should do. Should she inform her father of her true intentions, or should she wait until she finds something of value to offer him? To show that it’s worth the effort?

She has deliberated over it for a while. She doesn’t want to exclude her father from the potential discoveries that await within the stars. But Prime…

He’s beyond a sore subject for Hordak. Her father is confident, proud, and immovable. But when Prime is delved into, either on a shallow or intimate level, he becomes sullen and distant. Similar to how he used to be, according to her mother. It normally takes Entrapta to bring him out of whatever reverie decides to perturb his thoughts.

Is it really a good idea to bring it up?

Odessa is not the sort to believe her father is weak. To the contrary, she has the highest respect and adoration for Hordak. And that’s partly why she hesitates to confide in him her plans.

He will eventually find out, though. He might not be good at picking up lies, but he is suspicious by nature.

Folding her arms, Odessa sits back in her chair, allowing the front legs to hover in the air. If she kept it a secret, he wouldn’t like it, but he may understand her reasoning if she explained why.

Ethical dilemmas are the worst.

“Odessaaaaa!”

“Hey, Mom,” she says, looking up at the ceiling.

“So, I was wondering what to prepare for your journey, and your father suggested that we give you a mini portal,” Entrapta says, hanging upside down. “The portal to Inicos will save you some time getting there, but if you want to send us something of value ahead of your arrivals, a mini portal might help!”

“Oh, that’s a good point!” Odessa says, feeling uncomfortable. “I’ll thank Dad for the idea later…”

Entrapta brushes Odessa’s cheek with a lock of her hair, “What’s wrong? Do you feel bad?”

“A little,” Odessa admits. “I don’t like not telling Dad anything, and, perhaps, I’m being unfair to you too—for having you keep it under wraps right now.”

Entrapta sits on her hair, “It’s not too late to be honest with him. Your father can handle more than we give credit for.”

“I know he can, but he has reservations about anything involving Prime,” Odessa says, shifting the chair back and forth. “He didn’t object to going to the flagship, but everything that comes after might not be to his liking.”

Entrapta places her hands on her cheeks, leaning forward, “Maybe we can try again to hint at it?”

“Dad’s too smart,” she says, setting the chair legs back on the ground and mimicking Entrapta’s position.

Entrapta and Odessa sit in silence for a few moments, each wondering about the best course of action.

“I still feel we should tell him,” Entrapta says.

“I do too, but I don’t want to risk Dad getting upset.”

“Then… I won’t say anything until you do.”

“Thanks,” Odessa replies, staring at the brain in the jar.

She doesn’t know why she hesitates so much when it comes to this. But she has inkling he might not approve. That isn’t a potential circumstance she wants tainting this trip—that he might not give his full support if he knew that this whole thing was to find out their origins.

                                                                -

Tristan lays in his room, staring up at the ceiling. Music plays in his ears, low and smooth in its lull. He can hear the faint sound of seagulls beyond his window, which gives him a growing sense of calm.

A knock on the door disturbs that calm. Annoyed, he says, “Yes?”

Mermista enters the bedroom, walking in. She inspects the room for a moment before addressing her son, “Are you busy?”

“No,” he answers, continuing to look at the ceiling.

“Good,” she tells him, folding her arms. “Because you’re needed downstairs to discuss matters in Salineas.”

Tristan groans, “I don’t know why I need to be down there.”

Mermista raises a brow, “You’re the prince, that’s why.”

He waves a hand in the air, “Still don’t see why I should.”

“Because I say so, how’s that for a reason?” Mermista declares, turning on her heel. “Hurry up, we can’t keep members waiting.”

He doesn’t move, wanting to drown out everything.

“Tristan, I said now!” she snaps from outside the door.

At the command, he throws his arms in exasperation, getting to his feet in a huff, “Fine!”

Walking quickly through marbled walls, Mermista shakes her head at him, “It wouldn’t kill you to be more involved with your kingdom.”

Tristan rolls his eyes.

“Don’t give me an attitude,” Mermista chastises. Another shake of her head, and she pauses mid-step to reach for his hair. “You don’t look the least bit presentable!”

“You told me to get going right now, you can’t get upset about that!”

“You should’ve been getting ready a while ago,” Mermista says, continuing to—very poorly—comb through his locks.  

He steps backward, waving an arm, “I’m not a child, stop touching my hair!”

“If you didn’t look like crap, I wouldn’t need to,” Mermista says.

Tristan flushes in embarrassment and anger, “I never look like crap.”

“Right now you do,” Mermista insists. “Straighten your back.”

“It’d be a lot easier to do that if you got off my back,” Tristan snaps.

Mermista turns to narrow her eyes at him. She lets out a groan, “You know what, go back to your room. If you’re going to be immature, I’d prefer you not be there.”

With that, she continues walking without him.

Tristan stands there, miffed. Another waste of time! What does she even want? Whirling, he stomps back to his room.

This whole place is fucking stupid.

                                                               -

Hydrangea approaches Perfuma in the garden. Her mother seems to be in a good mood, “Hey, Mom.”

Perfuma turns, smiling, “Hello, dear! Would you hand me that water container please?”

Doing so, Hydrangea decides to mosey through the pathway. She lifts her hand over a row of violets, brushing their petals lightly with her fingertips. They respond to her touch, swaying gently beneath her palm.

“Is there something that you wanted, sweetheart?”

Hydrangea doesn’t look at her, listening to the flowers hum quietly, “I was wondering if we could discuss the trip.”

“Oh? I thought we dropped the matter,” Perfuma replies, tone nonchalant.

“No, Mom, you did,” Hydrangea says, voice equally collected.

Perfuma walks over to another section, pouring water into the soil, “There’s no reason to give an attitude, my young blossom.”

“Mom, no one is giving an attitude to you,” Hydrangea says, turning to her. “You’re the one who’s been avoidant about the issue since I mentioned it. Don’t you think you should hear me out?”

Perfuma sighs. Setting down the water pitcher, she places a hand on her cheek, “Alright… what is it?”

“All I’m asking is to go on an expedition for a while. I don’t think it’s that large of a request.”

“I believe you’re forgetting that you are a princess; you can’t go wandering the galaxy whenever you please—you have responsibilities here to your people!”

“I don’t understand your resistance. You’re always telling me that the best way to understand others is by putting yourself in their position.”

“You don’t have to travel around to do that,” Perfuma scoffs. “You can learn everything possible right here on Etheria.”

“Mom.”

“You aren’t ready to go out and be away from home for so long.”

“Traveling the galaxy is infinitely more safe than fighting a war, yet you did the latter around my age.”

Perfuma sighs, irritated, “You are being too argumentative.”

“I’m not being argumentative,” Hydrangea says, keeping her voice even, despite her own growing sense of frustration. “I’m trying to explain to you why this isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. This could be a really good experience for me!”

Perfuma shakes her head, “You are asking for too much at your age. You should be concentrating on your duties here on Plumeria, as well as your studies.”

“I haven’t slacked at all when it comes to my princess responsibilities. My studies are just fine, not to mention that if I travel around, I can learn about plants from other planets.”

Perfuma clasps her fingers together, taking a deep breath. Count to ten…

Hydrangea waits, knowing not to interrupt.

“I’m going to be frank with you, Hydrangea. I don’t like the idea of you traveling without proper support.”

“I’m not without support—Tristan should be coming too, and Odessa is capable. We’re going to be communicating with her parents, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“They’re not going with you?!”

Crap… “No?”

“That’s even more reason to not let you!”

Her patience wears a little thin, though Hydrangea keeps her temper levelled, “Mom, this isn’t a scary trip that is going to harm me. We’re going to a planet that has lots of Odessa’s relatives, we have a portal to go back to in case we want to arrive sooner, and we’re always well-stocked on supplies.”

Perfuma inhales through her nose, exhales through her mouth. She can’t help but be nervous about the idea of her baby girl going through the universe with absolutely no parental guidance whatsoever. She might not be a young child, but she has a lot to learn. Scorpia thinks she is being too restrictive, even though she doesn’t believe so. She didn’t have her parents during formative years, and she would’ve wanted to have direction when she was around Hydrangea’s age.

But she knows that Hydrangea is determined to help Odessa in any way possible.

Perfuma walks over to her daughter, patting her shoulder. She stares directly at her face, solemn. Hydrangea stares at her, expectant. Sighing, Perfuma gives a small smile, “Very well. I feel this is against my better judgment, but you are free to go.”

Hydrangea breaks into a beaming grin, “Really?! Thanks, Mom!”

“I want you to let me know what’s going on every day, okay?”

“Mom, I can’t do that, I’ll be busy. Once a month?”

“Weekly.”

“Biweekly.”

“I guess that will do...” Perfuma gives in. She can’t help but hug her close when Hydrangea embraces her tightly in her arms.

Hydrangea couldn’t believe her luck—she was actually given permission to go! This is going to be awesome!

                                                                -

“You want to do what now?” Mermista asks.

“I want to go with Odessa and Hydrangea on a space trip.”

“No.”

“Why?” Tristan asks.

“I say so.”

Leaning his cheek against his palm, Tristan scowls, glaring at the fruit spread along the table.

Mermista doesn’t look up from her food, “If you continue to frown like that, you’re going to get wrinkles faster.”

Tristan bites back a retort, knowing there’s no point arguing.

“I don’t understand why you even want to go space travel. There’s nothing out there that’s important to us Salineans.”

Tristan rises from his chair, “Fine. I get it.”

Mermista watches him go. He’s been more insistent on being away from home the last several years; he didn’t spend much time here for about a decade or so, choosing to go frolic with his friends nearly every day, and it was more so when Odessa would return from her trips. Mermista is not quite sure if this is something that all teenagers go through, or just her son in particular.

She spent much of her time in Salineas, occasionally visiting her friends from other parts of Etheria. But Tristan is the opposite of that.

Sighing, she doesn’t bother to call him back, listening to the faint echo of his footfalls past the doors. If he wants to be a brat someplace else, that’s his issue.

Tristan strides through the hallway in a huff, discontent written across his face. Never breaking his pace, Tristan heads outside, where the once calm surface churned and frothed as a raging sea. Diving straight into the waves, his tail morphs the moment his skin makes contact with cold water. The weather was unexpected, but that’s fine—he loved storms.

Racing through the darkening ocean, Tristan swims northwest. He doesn’t think of anything—simply revels in the sensation of darting through water. Eventually, the seas revert to a quiet demeanor. Approaching nearby docks, Tristan catches the sounds of roughhousing and glass breaking. Changing from tail to legs, Tristan moves his arms in a simple motion, wrapping water around the lower half of his body, he lifts himself onto the pier.

Walking toward the tavern, Tristan enters the establishment. Without another thought, he slides to the right, avoiding a body that got flung in his direction. Not looking down at the unfortunate patron, Tristan heads to the center of the room, glancing around.

“Alright, men! What do you say we go set a couple boats on fire!”

Tristan turns in the direction of the voice, accompanied shortly after by exasperated groans and complaints.

“Well, don’t everybody jump up at once,” Seahawk complains.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll come around when they’re not hungover,” Tristan says.

Seahawk looks up, grinning from ear to ear, “Tristan, my boy!”

“Hey, Dad,” he replies.

“Pull up a seat, son! Barkeep, a drink for the young man!”

Tristan watches one of his father’s friends fall onto the floor, passed out. Taking the chair for himself, he says, “You seem to be in a good mood.”

Seahawk twirls his moustache, “Ho ho ho, my boy, you’ll be pleased to know that I have an expedition coming up! A crew and I are supposed to go south and find a coveted treasure that hasn’t been seen for hundreds of years!”

“Oh yeah? What’s it called?”

Seahawk hums to himself, then waves his hand, “I can’t remember right now. But it’s bound to be a glorious trek across the grand blue that is the sea!”

The bartender places a drink in front of Tristan, who nods his thanks before taking a generous gulp. Tristan sets the mug down, “That’s great! It’s been awhile since you’ve done anything like that.”

“Indeed, my boy. And what about you? Have you been answering the wild call?”

Tristan traces the side of his mug, “Odessa does have an expedition coming up that would be fun.”

“Ah, sweet Odessa! That girl is always ready to explore. Hydrangea is going too, I presume?”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”

“From the sound of it, you’re unsure about your place in this. Why don’t you go too?”

Tristan rolls his eyes, “You know how Mom can get.”

“My dear Mermista does tend to be unyielding,” Seahawk says, then shrugs. “Your mother doesn’t have to get upset about what she doesn’t know.”

Tristan smirks, “Dad, are you giving me permission to go?”

“No, but I’m not denying you the call to adventure, either!”

Shaking his head, Tristan takes another swig of beer. He slams it down on the table, much to his father’s delight. Seahawk shouts, “Barkeep, more of your finest alcohol, please!”

Tristan smiles to himself, relaxing in the midst of chaos. He might even sing a shanty with his dad for the shits and giggles of it.

                                                               -

Hordak has noticed a change in Odessa’s demeanor, however slight.

He didn’t think much of it, at first. She has been preoccupied with her upcoming mission, but she’s been working near non-stop since she returned from Prime’s flagship. Not wanting to pry into her affairs, Hordak believed it would be best to let her do as she pleases.

And it’s not that she’s pulling away from him. On the contrary, she’s always been an affectionate child with him and Entrapta. She’s, in essence, a good kid. But that’s the thing about good kids—they’re not total experts at covering up what they don’t want you to see.

Hordak comes up to Odessa, tinkering away with one of her personal tech projects. He leans slightly forward, “If you turn that bolt to the left, you should be able to get the polarity to work.”

Odessa, mutely, does so. At the sound of it working, she smiles at him, “Thanks, Dad!”

Smiling in turn, he pulls up a chair and sits beside her. He reaches for a wrench, and tightens a loose bolt, “You’ve been deep in thought as of late, Odessa. Are you excited for the expedition?”

“Yes! It’s going to be exciting,” she replies. She takes the wrench from her father with a lock of hair. “I haven’t heard from Tristan yet on whether he can come, but Hydrangea informed me her mothers are allowing her to go.”

Hordak gives a quiet nod. They enter the state of routine: Odessa works, and he watches. She asks for tools and he hands them to her. Their roles reversed from when she was a child. In addition, he gives her suggestions about what to do next and she’ll do it, or make notes for future projects. Hordak glances at Odessa. Not wanting to disturb the silence, but she breaks it first.

“What is it?” Odessa asks.

“Traveling to Inicos will take a fair amount of time,” Hordak begins. “Even with a portal taking you a part of the way, you will be absent for a while.”

Odessa giggles, looking up at him, “Aw, are you going to miss me, Dad?”

“Of course,” Hordak says, sincere. He turns to her, eyeing her movements. “You are my daughter. I want you to be safe on this mission. You’ve been gone before, but this is different…”

“It’s not too different,” Odessa replies, eyes centralized on her work. “I’ve been on trips before.”

Hordak inhales deeply, then exhales. “I know.” But there’s an aspect to this venture that is niggling the back of his mind. “You have a… passion for this journey that is dissimilar to the ones prior.”

Odessa’s hair moves around the table, skimming over the tools, “I guess I do.”

“Odessa.”

She looks up, meeting her father’s eyes.

“You would tell me about your goals, wouldn’t you?”

Odessa’s eyes flit over Hordak’s face, his expression earnest, open. “Yeah, Dad. I would.”

At his smile, Odessa stands up, “I’m going to get a snack. Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you. I’ll wait for you to return.”

“Okay,” Odessa tells him, walking out of the room.

Hordak’s smile fades, unable to shake that niggling sensation.

                                                              -

“Launch day!” Entrapta yells. “Are you excited, my little cupcake?”

“I’m born to be excited!” Odessa shouts.

The two look at each other, shaking their hands and screaming in anticipation. Emily spins in a circle, letting out a long beep, as Imp yells in his natural voice.

Hordak stands with his arms folded, chuckling.

Entrapta kicks her legs in the air, cackling at the top of her lungs, “This is an absolute thrill, and I’m not even going! Ooooh, my baby is going away for a while! Ah, I’ll miss seeing that cute widdle face every day!” For added emphasis, she squishes Odessa’s cheeks together, kissing her nose.

Odessa doesn’t pull away, a light blush on her cheeks, “I know, Mom. I’m gonna miss you too.”

Withdrawing, Entrapta goes into scientist-mode, “Now, remember: your uncles will be there to greet you and answer any questions you may have. By the time you arrive in Inicos, they should have a portal functioning again, so they can send you back to Etheria directly. Make sure to contact them when you are nearby.”

Odessa nods, shaking in place. Her heart always beats faster when she’s about to head out into space. She hasn’t been to Inicos in a long time, that it’ll practically be new. She has so much to look forward to! She hopes this won’t be a dead end before her true exploration begins.

She looks to her left, waving, “Gea! You’re here!”

Hydrangea walks up, Scorpia at her side, “Hey!”

Entrapta scuttles over to Scorpia, the two going for a large hug. Scorpia picks up Hordak, and he shakes his head in resignation, despite the smirk on his face.

“Must you?” he asks.

“Every time, Lord Hordak!” Scorpia teases.

“Scorpia,” he threatens.

“Whoa, haven’t heard that tone for years!” Scorpia says, setting him down. “Brings back memories.”

“I know,” Entrapta says in a softer tone, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Hordak blushes, clearing his throat.

Hydrangea glances around the hanger, “Where’s Tristan?”

Odessa shrugs, “I’m not sure. I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

“He’ll be here soon, I think,” Hydrangea replies.

Odessa isn’t sure. She’s been holding out on his reply for weeks. Well, it’s not that she isn’t sure about his intentions; it’s his parents she isn’t certain of, and even then it’s just the one.

Hydrangea touches her shoulder, “I’m going to get my things inside the ship. Relay the plan to me when I get back.”

“Alright,” Odessa says. Arms folded, she taps her fingers quickly against her skin.

The hours pass and Odessa sets the final cargo in Celeste’s compartments. Sighing, growing frustrated and upset, she continues moving about the ship.

Hydrangea stares out at the front, equally worried.

Entrapta walks up to Odessa, “Has he arrived yet?”

“No.”

“I have everything set up for you in the cockpit,” Entrapta says, sitting on her hair.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Entrapta pats her back, “You still have an hour before you head out.”

“I know.”

Hydrangea suddenly yells, “Tristan! There you are!”

Odessa looks up, screaming at him, “You son of a bitch, where’ve you been?!”

Tristan runs up to them, an apologetic grin on his face, “Packing!”

Hydrangea holds a hand to her chest, “Thank goodness, we were beginning to worry.”

“If you missed out on this trip, I was going to be pissed at you forever,” Odessa tells him.

Tristan laughs, placing his luggage in the ship, “Well, you can love me more now.”

Odessa rolls her eyes, despite the smirk on her face.

Soon enough, they’re heading inside the spaceship. Entrapta is squealing in joy, kissing Odessa’s face. Scorpia hugs Hydrangea tightly, and pulls Tristan in for good measure.

“Have fun! Keep me updated on all the cool stuff you find!” Entrapta says.

“You got it, Mom!” Odessa replies, giving a salute.

Hordak comes up to her, patting the top of her hair, “Take care, Odessa.”

She pushes the top of her head into his palm, “I will. You know me, I can handle anything.”

He smiles down at her, “I know you can. But…”

“But?” she repeats, eyes bright and alert.

“Nothing,” he replies. He draws his arms behind his back, “I wish you safe travels.”

Odessa beams at her parents, kissing both of them on the cheek. She runs into Celeste, and waves at her family as the ramp closes, “I’ll see you all soon!”

Hydrangea and Tristan are already in the cockpit, awaiting her instructions.

“You guys ready?”

“Ready!” they crow together.

“Let’s go!”

Celeste rises into the air, and once it breaks the atmosphere, it gives a jolt of energy and light.

Scorpia wipes her eyes, “Ah, I forget they’re not little anymore.”

Entrapta pats her shoulder, “We made food, do you want to join us?”

“That’d be nice,” Scorpia says.

Entrapta turns to Hordak, “You coming?”

“In a moment,” Hordak replies, staring up at the sky.

Smiling, she pushes up from the ground on her pigtails, placing a soft kiss on his lips, “She’ll be okay.”

Hordak’s gaze scans the stars. Wondering if he should’ve been more forthright with his thoughts. He supposes he can talk to her at a later point…

Observing the sky, he waits until it darkens before heading inside.

[popculturebuffet]

Close Enough Season 2 Review! or Josh Murders About 10 People

It's been hard to put into words just how wonderful a surprise this season getting released this month was. For starters before JG Quintel announced it last year shortly after season 1, I honestly was convinced season 2 wasn't happened. Do NOT get me wrong, Season 1 of Close Enough was one of the best parts of last year: It was funny, had a lot of heart, a great voice cast, and a great cast of characters that was throughly likeable and broke sitcom stereotypes, having a doofy husband and more straight laced wife with layers who clearly love and respect each other and BOTH can be prone to taking things too far instead of JUST Josh screwing up. Add in two great fellow leads Bridgette and Alex played by two of my faviorite va's, Kimiko Glen and Jason Mantzokus, whose name I finally learned how to spell, an adorable daughter and neat but out of focus neighbors and supors pearle and randy, and the show was just damn near perfect and felt like an improvement on regular show, taking the same humor and animation style but to an older cast and audience with more nuanced and likeable characters, and far more character development per episode. I wanted to see where the show would go.. but I was convinced given the show was leftover inventory from an animation block that never happened held over to give HBO Max some content it'd be canceled after one season, because I can't have nice things. But....

And very happily so: JG Quintel revealed the show had been picked up for season 2 not long after season 1 dropped, having listned to fans. As it turns out though they hadn't.. they just had a ton of faith in the show as I got ANOTHER bombshell earlier this month. While the show had showed up on the schedule for this month late in January, with no release date on said schedule, I wasn't 100% sure the show was coming back this month or that it wasn't just an error. But once again, I was wrong, it was earth all along, and they merely saved it for the press release for their adult animation lineup: alongside the huge and welcome bombshell they were the ones picking up the Clone High reboot and for two seasons, Close enough not only got two more seasons publicly announced, but fimrly revealed season 2 launched February 25th. LIke they likely had with infinity train the show was quitely picked up for another season, and they simply waited to announce it till the right time. Though unlike infinity train, they had faith in it to become a big hit and while they SHOULD HAVE with infinity train and should've accepted it was already a big hit simply not with the target demographic, it's still nice to see that after all it went through Close Enough not only got renewed but is now the network's flagship adult animated show, closely tied with harley quinn, and will likely go on as long as it wants to.

So naturally given I reviewed all of season 1 in the hopes i'td get renewed, I was happy to make room for season 2 and continue covering it and over the moon it was happening so soon. However I'm doing things diffrently this time: instead of flooding the tag with individual longform reviews, i'm reviewing the season all one go, to see if this format could work for me as I have tons of other shows i'd love to cover in this format that are either heavily comedic like say the Great North, regular show or the simpsons and thus dont' lend themselves to riffing as much and leave me less to do per episode, or more seralized shows like she ra or ones that are entirely complete like Steven Universe or Gravity falls that I could cover alone but this format could help expidite covering. Gravity Falls is also one of my patreon stretch goals if your instrested as is a whole lot of ducktales stuff, link on my blog. It also works with my much larger workload with a much tighter schedule, 6 reviews a week with a flex day in case I get behind so everything comes out as good as it posisbly can be, versus my original method of...

TLDR: One big post with smaller reviews each episode and an overall coverage of what changed this season and how good it is as a whole. We good? Good, then join me under the cut for some delightful sentient presents, couch ghosts, and jim fucking crunch as we get close enough to the heart.

I will never get tired of that image. I want it blown up and put on a banner at my funeral. But death plans aside let's get into the season

Slight Tweaks to a Great Formula: Given it's slice of life format based largely around likeable multi layered characters in comedic absurdity, not a lot has changed nor did it need to. What has are just simple tweaks to make things even better. For starters a natural result of getting to the episodes now produced directly for the 11 minute format means the pacing is much focused, subbing in full subplots for the occasional runner instead, and often only using what characters the episode needs. It will use the main five often, but the lack of subplots for the most part allows stronger focus on one or two characters to give the stories added weight and nuance and often laughs. While i'll always love season 1, this allows for much tighter stories and allows for everyone to get some major screen time instead of mostly Josh and Emily in season 1. It does mean we sadly get less of my boy Alex per episode but it's a sacrifice i'm willing to make if it means the show can grow and take more risks and evolve naturally. Though the former probably wasn't help by two of his three episodes being kinda weak, but i'll get to that.

The other noticeable change is Pearle and Randy. While they were promoted as main characters, even getting profiles along with the rest, they were in practice recurring characters in season 1, showing up pretty frequently but with only one starring episode for Randy and none for Pearle. And givne Pearle has an interesting backstory as a cop who likely had to put up with a LOT being a black woman officer, as well as raising a white redneck, while also being hilarious and having a fun energy to her, I felt they kinda wasted her in season 1.

Here though? Both have been bumped up to main cast proper, getting two focus episodes a piece (compared to the other main adults each getting three, some of those shared, and Candace getting one, hopefully more in the future as it was really good, along with, to my delight, mr.cambell also getting one), appearing far more in supporting roles and generally showing up with the main group a lot more. They still don't hang out with our loveable family all the time, but it makes sense as they have their own apartment and stuff to deal with, but it feels far more like their part of the main group. The show always treated them like this mine, but showing up more makes their friendships with their tenants feel more genuine, as it feels like their part of their lives more, whlie having their own to deal with we get to see now.

So while the series didn't change much, as I said it didn't need to and all of this is stuff is the kind of thing I wanted, especially Pearle getting a larger role and Randy being fleshed out from a dollar store version of muscle man into his own similar but difference character, and i'm happy to have it. So now i've talked about how the seasons' changed, let's talk about the episodes themselves. Grab a snack this is going to take a bit.

The Episodes!:

Josh Gets Shredded: 

Our premier and honestly it's a solid one with a singular premise on poking fun at gym culture, though in a nice twist Jim Crunch, the guy who runs the Gym Josh ends up going to to strengthen his core to play with Candace and whose voiced wonderfully by Kevin Michael Richardson is a genuinely good guy and there's no horrifying twist with him. He just wants Josh to get ripped and dosen't know his training is keeping josh from candace. IT's a simple setup of a father doing something for his daughter but getting distracted by it and while not new it works well here and we get plenty of fun gym jokes, including an exchange from Jim and Josh when Josh wants to become an "absolute unit", which in this case ends up meaning turning into the hulk but with the glowing firey eyes of an angry god, feels like it came straight out of the hockey bros from letterkenny, which is a good feeling to have. There's also a nice setup with Candace wanting to play king kong with Josh due to seeing it in class (Specially the Peter Jackson remake, also Candace knows who jack black is which I buy because of who her daddy is. I wouldn’t be surprised if Josh had Saving Silverman on a loop for several days until emily threw it out the window like a frisbee. ), which kicks off the whole thing.. and ends with ultra instinct hulk josh taking her to the top of a building and swatting away helicopters. It’s more of an average episode for the series and the runner about Emily being REALLY hot for buff josh comes off as a weaker version of the plot from family guy where Lois likes a thinner peter, apart from one inspired bit where in order to talk to him about candace without getting distracted, Emily pours an entire bag of ice down her pants.. and subtly after Josh talks about becoming an absolute unit, it’s gone nad rather than animation I like to believe it melted. Still a decent start to a great season. 

Meet the Frackers: A Randy Spotlight episode and unlike his season one episode rather than be a subplot in another episode it’s a full episode about him. And the starting incident is great as the gang gets their ancestry results back from costco, with Emily and Bridgette having ancestors in Guadalajara and Kiyoto.. and Josh being white (”Can you believe it?”). Alex coming from a long line of creeps is also pretty funny, those are his actual results by the way. 

But what the episodes truly about is Randy finding out his parents are alive in Malibu after Pearle claimed they were dead when he was a kid. She had a very good reason though: Randy’s parents were serial gas thieves, and Pearle nearly caught them one night with the two chucking him at her to escape. And to her credit Pearle TRIED to reach out to them once they ended up in jail for their crimes.. but they again chucked him at her which is hilarious. She simply didn’t want him to feel abandoned. He instead feels betrayed. 

His parents are hilariously white trash and played by two faviorite va’s of mine, David Kochner and Wendy Malick, who i’m happy is finally playing a lead roll on Owl House. They drink redneck maragretihas and eat mcribs (As Randy puts it “God’s favorite sandwich!”) every day and still steal gas, just legally now as frackers. Naturally though the two are still assholes and soon use a carnival as a cover to illegally frack and it’s up to Randy an dhis real mom to stop them> It’s a touching story with Randy genuinely wanting to hlep his mom, though I feel it would’ve been more interesting if Randy’s parents hadn’t been scum an dhe had to genuinely deal with having three parents now. Still it was worth it for some great lines from Malick and Kochner , so it works. Decent ep. 

Sauceface: Now we come to both one of the best eps of the season, and the series so far, and one of it’s most unique as it stars Candace and dosen’t feature the other main cast hardly at all, only Emily who kicks things off by, in a great bit, breaking Candace’s illusion their rich as “they live in a castle with alex and bridgette”, with her slowly realizing “Were poor”. Which is just a very kid thing to think that your parents are rich when they very much aren’t. 

But the episode really is a crime boss parody story, as the title would imply as Candace and her best friend start selling hot sauce, which is banned from the school due to it’s political correctness having gone mad and it being offensive to “sensitive palates” (They’ve also banned general tso’s chicken for mitlarialism and everything bagels for being “too much”). This leads where you’d expect: Candace getting drunk with power and forgetting why theys tarted, wet willies, and an art room brawl, all leading to candace’s friend getting pinched and candace having to use the money to buy Mr. Cambell a pelaton to get him off their backs, which leads to this lovely exchange “YOur letting them off just because they bought you a present?” “This is a 2000 dollar bike”. We also get the subtle reveal Mr. Cambell is gay which given how straight the main cast is, is nice.  But this was a great one with too many good gags to mention, a great setup, a great rolling stones song played during the montage I do not know the name of, and I hope we get other candace advnetures at her school in the future, because this was a real delight. Again one of the best episodes of the season. 

The House Guest From Hell: Speaking of best episodes, this is probably the best pairing of episodes yet, as both are standouts of the season. 

Emily’s old friend Becca drops back into her life, to everyone’s annoyance as Becca is an utter leech who constantly take advantage of Emily’s lack of boundaries with her to constantly talk about whatever drama she’s wrapped herself in and mooch off her. Josh and Bridgette want her to set firm boundaries, but Emily fails to and instead only gets Becca to set boundaries with her boyfriend.. which leads to her moving into the apartment temporarily, and annoying the hell out of everyone. Becca is a great character, being that asshole in the most over the top and annoying way possible, to the point she takes alex’s room, watches tv on a loop and doesn’t seem to realize Emily is married (Despite being part of her bridal party), or that candace is Emily’s daughter and not a tiny butler (Which Candace assumes is a game. )

Naturally for this show things escalate hilariously as Emily finds out she’s pregnant when she tries to throw her out and the pregnancy is escalated.. and we soon find out it’s because the pregnancy is demonic: She has Hecate as her dula (And Alex naturally asks if she’s single, get it guy get it), needs goats hoves, locusts and the blood of the innocent (Which is the only item that trips josh up who hopes they can get it at costco, which made me have to pause as I could not stop laughing). This would be funny enough. .but what takes it into making this episode a classic is when Emily tricks her boyfriend Luke over he’s unsurprisingly a devil.. but also a hilariously over the top douchebag dudebro played by Beck  Bennet, who it’s not only nice to see outside of ducktales, but is also just totally game. Luke is so odious it wraps around to being funny, to the point he unsurprisingly hits on Bridgette while his girlfriend is in labor, messily makes out with her and they try to move in, though thankfully Emily cathartically screams Becca out midbirth. Also they end up going to hell, with Luke getting there by doing donuts. Yes really. This episode is a treasure and does the series schitck of taking a relatable problem and escalating it to perfection. 

Joint Break:

Another unsurprisingly good one, as Pearle deals with the fact that despite her decades of service, the force’s health plan doesn’t cover her needed hip surgery after she slides over a car wrong (Which also leads to a great riff on the old csi Miami parody). She then finds herself between her oath as an officer and her needs for help as she befriends a gang of saucy old women at water aerobics who are also bank robbers and want to cut her in. And they provide a tempting offer, getting what their owed and ti feels like a genuine dilemma, even if Pearle ends up siding with the police, not that she should. It’s also full of great bits of the old lady gang weaponizing stereotypes about old people, with the three of them dawning classic old lady getups to fool an officer, and having one of them i a walker slowly cross the street to stop an armored truck. Fun stuff helped by their leader being voiced by Jane Lynch, continuing this season’s red hot guest star streak, not that the series has ever been light on them (They got David Hasselhoff and weird al in season 1, so yeah), but this season ramps up the good guest voices to the point there’s one per episode almost. 

Cyber Matrix: This one’s okay though the setup is good. Unsurprisingly given both his dale gribble-esque penchant for conspiracies and his hipster holier than thou ways, Alex has never had a smart phone, and has a very old flip hone that’s horrifc to look at and naturally gets destroyed, leading to him getting addicted to the thing.. and this being the show it is fusing with it. What makes this one is the climax, as the rest of the main group scramble to take out the cell tower so Alex’s phone doesn’t upload him to the cloud while Josha nd Alex open everything they can to slow her down. The result is the phone hacking Emily’s and ordering packages, task rabbits to punch her inthe face (With randy taking it so they can go) and outright hijacking a car in a clever chase. The ending though does sink this as suddenly their in veirutal reality again and it just feels weird given the series, while not really using continuity much so far, dosne’t have negavite continuity punch out endings outside of this one ep and I hope this dosen’t happen again. Otheriwse a decent one if sadly not one of Alex’s best and he equally sadly onlyg ets one truly great episode this season, compared to having a good chunk of the best plots last season. Still you can’t win em all and i’m sure my boy will return to form and said great episode, which we’ll get to soon, certainly shows they didn’t loose their touch. They just fumbled a bit and that’s okay. 

Haunted Couch: Balancing that out is the fact that Bridgette, who didn’t get nearly as many good eps as Alex or as much focus as the rest, gets some great episodes this season with this one being my out and out favorite as it fleshes her out more and has some really great gags. Josh brings in a street couch (And he and Emily’s argument over it is great including him using the fact she forced them to get a savings account as leverage somehow), just as Bridgette is in emotional turmoil over her latest boyfriend suddenly ghosting her. 

Naturally she ends up falling for a REAL ghost, a french couch designer who had a habit of cheating on his lovers, died for it by one of their hands, and his soul ended up bound to the couch. Naturally hea nd Bridgette hit it off and we get a LOT of good stuff in a montage as the two take the couch everywhere, and her friends, minus Alex who surprisingly rather than being jealous, simply dosen’t like the fact there’s a ghost in the house technically haunting them which surprisingly goes nowhere, are happy for her and like him after the initial shock wears off, though Josh still wants to sit on the couch. He and Bridgette even have really good sex using Randy’s body, with him being a willing vesel for Marcus. And i’d just like to point out that an intensely weird comedy show that also has a sentient present, bob vila with saw hands, and dude bro satan in this very season, 2/3 of those to come.. STILL did this better than wonder woman 87, as they actually asked someone to let the ghost of the couple use his body so they could fuck, and he gave full consent to it. And no I sitll haven’t let that go, it was a very bad plotline with nightmarish implications and the fact close enough did it better in a joke, they also have the song from ghost in the background by the by, than a big budget movie from the same company, is a really large bilboard saying:

But while the episode was thoroughly interesting and funny.. it’s what happens next that makes it one of the series best. While the series is amazing at comedy, it’s the character growth slid in between it that makes it so awesome and this episode is a great example. Bridgette turns cold towards Marcus as it’s clear he’s serious, and he’s even moved a tooth brush in. She gets more and more hostile until eventually Marcus calls her on it, and prevents her from leaving with a vortex of furniture.. which could’ve gone bad very quick but instead just means she has to face him.. and is hit with a rather painful relization when he asks “Do you what me to, how you say, ghost you?” (She explained the concept earlier). She says no.. but quickly a series of flashbacks puts the previous breakup in context as the guy she was seeing asked to leave a toothbrush, a  simple escalation and she got real nasty real quick without saying what the problem was. We see more of this with a previous boyfriend and hilaroiusly one before that guy who not only had a toothbrush in a ringbox but was also in a hot air ballon she casually cuts the anchors too and has float away. Which does mean Bridgette probably killed a man but that’s one compared to josh’s 10 this season. Yes, 10. We’ll get to that. 

Point is she realizes “oh shit i’m the dick”, and has a genuine talk with Marcus, realizing why: “You know how women feign being submissive because society’s taught them to so they don’t get raped or murdered or kidnapped?” “Oui”, best bit of the episode and damn if it ain’t horribly true. But due to tha Bridgette simply got terrible quick to scare guys off when she really just wanted to break it off instead of take things further and breaks it off with marcus.. and is surprised and relieved when he doesn’t want a big fight and takes it acceptably, Marcus having grown from his past of being a women using cad and genuinely wanting to treat them better. For once Bridget gets to have an emotionally mature breakup with someone, and while you could say her relationship with alex is like that, it’s very clear from an upcoming episode it wasn’t a very clean break at first and while their amicable now their marriage was a hot volcano of arguments. This allos Marcus to pass.. if also destroying the couch to Josh’s misery. An instant classic and one of the season’s highlights and one that really fleshes Bridgette out a bit by giving another reason for her relationships not working besides alex that fits the character perfectly and has her grow from it. 

Also just a quick sidenote, this episode vaguely reminded me of the Nightmare Time, theater troupe team starkid’s zoomcast I highly recommend set in their hatchetfield multiverse, episode “Jane’s a Car” , which is about a man’s wife possessing his car and also involves an object. Both are very diffrent mind you, Jane’s a Car ends up way more depressing, but its’ stil la story involving ghost fucking though Bridgette found a vesel instead of straight up fucking a couch the way tom went to town on that car. It also involves the lead’s perosnal issues, if far more severe in Jane’s a Car’s case, reflected by their relationship with a ghost. I mean it is a stretch but these are the weird connectoins my brain makes and I mostly bring it up because an  upcoming episode in the season goes from kind of similar but only to me to very similar, and a very fun concidence that these two episodes existed in the same year, especially since this happened last year with this show and Ducktales. But first josh doing a murder on some people. 

Man Up:

Okay for starters the title man up reminds me of this short lived abc sitcom I never saw but given it was about three guys tapping into their “inner man” it sounds like aresnic somehow took the sentient form of a tv show. This actual poster for it not only proves the point but why it lasted one season if not why the hell I remembered this existed at all despite never seeing it, not recognizing anyone in it and not wanting anything to do with it. 

Given I have 8 more episodes to go after this one, I do not have time to disect all the way that poster is a waking nightmare, though i’d love to, and instead i’m going to talk abotu the episode itself. The intro is funny enough, with the Ramierz-Singletons going to a bank for Candace’s first bank account, the Bank of Hollywood. An alien seemingly attacks, it turns out to be a promotional stunt with high budget effects a great gag in of itself, but Josh runs out on his family.  Naturally he’s horribly rattled by this, and wants to be a better dad, a John McClane type. So two things: I now want a crossover with this show and brooklyn nine nine along with the hatchefield one in my head and the regular show one most fans want. And the second is that John wasn’t the best dad or husband, and both the original film, the sequel josh saw, and the fourth film all spell this out. The fifth does too but I feel if I wish hard enough a good day to die hard will just spontaneously cease to exist and we’ll all be happier that way. 

So Pearle agrees to help him, and we get a fun training montage, with Josh protecting a candace made of eggs Alex made, because of course he did, and an emily made of the same because of course he did, and get punched in the junk by randy in a dog costume, as you do. He actually feels tough and is ready for phase 2, pearle hitting him with something unexpectdly.

Instead what he thinks is Phase 2 is actually a die hard style hyjacking of Emily’s company christmas party, which josh misses due to being in the bathroom after panickily running into corn. As a result.. we get josh killing about 8-10 people not realizing it’s not a simulation but not really caring about that part when it’s revealed. Which granted it is in self defense but he still kills a LOT of people this episode, and I will be forever haunted by the fact that stringbean can REALLY do some murders. Seriously who knew JOSH had it in him. That is terrifying to comprehend. Naturally after he john mclanes his way up, he finds out it wasn’t a simulation panics but instead of running away runs the hans gruber knockoff, whose sadly not very entertaining out of the building and onto some exploding corn, saving the day, earning his family’s respect and cemnting himself as a badass. The reveal of what the text actually was is just.. perfect as it’s just a bat on a string with Alex saying “he’s totally going to shit”. The perfect capper to good ep only hampred by hans being really weak.. seriously he just has a weird sentence sturcture tha’ts hte joke. They can do better. Otherwise a good die hard parody. John would be proud. 

Handy:

Another decent one not a standout but it has a truly astounding bit. Randy finds out, after going to Guy Fieri’s flavor diaster for Pearle, that she hired another handyman and he’s not good at his job as as he puts it “I’m going to do what troubled young men have done for years : i’m going to sea!”. Which is funny enough but leads to him stranded on a desert island, hallucinating and then meeting his idols in handy manning who may or may not be hallucinations: Bob Vila, The Ikea Mascot (Who speaks only in pictures and is a fun gag despite never having seen him before this episode) and my favorite tim the tool man taylor, whose tie is constantly pointed up for some reason and who amazingly only speaks in grunts. I didn’t know I needed this so thank you close enough. We also get the three helping with bob turning his hands into buzzsaws, ikea man creating nails and screws and Tim using his head as a tool. All accurate to their original shows and in ikea man’s case brocures. Really good adaptation. But through this he discovers the clog the guy is trying to fix at the house is loadbearing and rushes home to save the house, leading to a fun actoin scene and a weird version of the celebration from the end of return of the jedi, complete with force ghosts. So we also get a tim taylor force ghost which I did not know I needed and as much as that show makes my stomach churn I badly hope shows up in the finale of last man standing. A decent one and givne how I keep sayin ga decent episode over and over you can kinda see why I didn’t review all these. LIke season 1 I simply don’t have a full review in me for every single one of these episodes. We’re now at the halfway mark, only 8 more to go, I envy the dead, let’s do this. 

Birthdaze: This was the episode most heavily promoted in the trailer and for good reason as it’s the best of the season. Also relatable as while not having kids I do get how Kids Birthday parties feel and how they often end up weirdly close together. In this case both coalse as Josh and Emily have three birthdays in one weekend, their friends Emily’s friend Trish from “Cool Moms”, who is so far some of the only continuity the series has, but a nice sign it has it, and that we could see Jim Crunch (who rose from the grave after an utterly wonderful funeral) or Dog Boy again. Or this episode’s standout gifty. But we’ll get to that in a second.  So Josh and Emily well intentiondly decide to throw a party for the parents at the same time as Candace’s.. but end up neglecting Candace. While their idea is good, to reward the other parents for having to sit through so many parties, putting it at the same time was a horrible idea as giving a bunch of pent up people with low alcohol tolerance booze ends up resulting in drunken antics and them heckling the magicain... and given the world we’re in, that’s a horrible mistake as he makes the children disappear to a world of perptual brithday parties and forces JOsh and Emily to follow him if they want their child back.  What results is an utter delightly as we meet the wonderful and incomprable Gifty, a giant living present who works iwth the magician, named sardini, and is voiced by Kate Miccuci, heart eyes> Just.. evey bit with gifty is great, from her genuinely being animated and looking like a muppet, to her casually going demonic to explain if the kids stay too long they forget parents, to as seen up top playing a pipe organ that is apparently made of gold plated clown bones, and her best bit, which I posted on this very blog, where she assures the trapped kids if JOsh and Emily fail their final test, they’ll get to live of nutricious necco wafers before vomiting a giant cloud of them at the poor children. Those things are gross and we now knwo it’s because they come from a giant present’s stomach. 

We get a great montage before most of that of our heroes treking through a weird and awesome birthday landscape with too many good parts to mentoin, before finding Sardini who puts them through tests before they can get candace back.. and one of those are you human image tests via the ball from phantasm. As gifty puts it “We have to make sure your not a bot”. But the tests, about candaces faviorite things, help the two realize she liked them because they did it together, and a final talk with candace, as the final test has her ask why theyd idn’t want to spend time with her, with the two warmly apologizing and explaning why they did it but that they went too far. Candace reconclies with her parent,s the kids and our heroes go home, and Sardini finds himself sad no one stayed.. but at least he has gifty... and then start making love to her “Unwrap me!” which is far and away the best gag in the season’s best episode by a mile. 

Time Hooch:

Now to talk about two things I hinted at earlier: The only good Alex episode this season and the one that vaugely resembles one of the Nightmare Time episodes. And while their two very diffrent stories with very diffrent outcomes and only one of them involves this guy

And suprisingly it’s NOT close enough that has the eldtrich horrifying goat monster with a goofy cartoon voice who says things like “I’m coming for your ass Teddy Bear!” But both are stories about a sketchy (mildly for alex, entirely for Ted) middle aged man who feels one moment is where his life went wrong then accidently time travels after drinking 80 tons of liquor and decides to use said time travel to save a relationship, and fails at it in some fashion.  There’s even a jaunt to a distopian future with robots and cyborgs. So while it’s not 1:1, alex is far more sympathetic than Ted, Time Bastard is dark horror comedy, and it again dosen’t involve a horrifying goat man suprisingly enough, it’s till way too many happy coincidences for me to outright ignore. Also check out nightmare time and especially the musicals it spun off from The Guy Who Didn’t LIke Musicals and Black Friday. It’s good stuff. But I couldn’t help but make the comparison, or now imagine Alex, Ted and Professor Hidgens as some weird diasterious power trio. This is how my brain works now. 

But to the episode itself it’s just great from start to finish: Bridgette finds out while rumaging for an old photo in an old box of their stuff that Alex never signed the divorce papers. Turns out he was hoping they’d get back together.. and while not doing it and not telling her was a VERY selfish and horrible action.. you still sympathize with him. He hoped things would work out and they’d get back together, and given they had some close calls with that in season 1, to the point I shipped them, you can see where his sprig of hope came from. But with this he’s realized there probably isn’t any hope and drinks some old moonshine he and Josh made in college.  Said moonshine was from a recipie in an old blues record, the titular time hooch that true to form, allows them to travel back in time. And since he was thinking of when he thought the relationship truly hit it’s breakig point, when Bridgette at a sandwitch of his and he’d said in the heat of it he wished he’d never met her, they end up there and Alex tries to use it to help. Also Jason’s delivery of Alex saying what the recipie was “rye, barely, a dead man’s pocket watch, mixed under a full moon (Laughs) okay we probably should’ve seen this coming.  

Naturally here’s where it really gets intresting. As you’d probably guess, our heroes are the ones who made the sandwitch disappear and in desperation, alex kidnaps his past self before he can say the fatal words> We also get another spectacular bit where all past alex needs from alex to know he’s really him from the future is what year he was born (1982), meaning he’s defintely older than the rest of the cast. Though I wouldn’t be suprised if he was held back.. like at all. Look i’m not thinking too hard into it this is also a story about whiskey based time travel. 

But with that said intresting part takes hold as Josh’s past self reminds him of another fight that made things tense for a while.. and you can see where this goes. Alex keeps going back, and back, and back and back and back and back and back... and back, to try and stop the one fight, only to find a bigger one, leading to a montage.. to the point he ends up at the start of the relationship, the day they met at a college bar. The younger Alex’s have decided screw it it was always wrong, let’s end the relationship. 

We also get more of Alex’s backstory as it turns out he’s at a community college rather than UCLA, where he used to teach because of his own dumb actions: He met bridgette, let her enroll in his class and didn’t try to convince her to take another one. Don’t get me wrong the decade age gap and power dynamics are iffy.. but it’s not as bad as it could be. They met before the class, and it comes off more as both being too stupid or too horny to realize how her being in his class came off before it was too late. She got with him entirely on his merits, and yes he has some trust me.  Case in point.. Alex realizes a few things. The first is that no amount of time travel can save his relationship. They fought all the time clearly, and there were inherent problems. It’s also clear just from the series itself that while they have chemistry their just not that compatible as people. Bridgette is obessed with image, social media, and herself while Alex just two episodes ago called phones the downfall of society and likes feeling superior to the exact kind of person bridgette is. They have chemistry but sometimes it’s jut not enough. You have to have some common ground or your going to fall in a big hole. It’s honestly feels like a much more tolerable and realistic version of Leonard and Penny from the Big Bang Theory. And yes I know that show’s not the most popular with my core audience, nerds, and I bring it up because mom’s been watching it a lately, and any time I see Leonard and Penny on screen it annoys me into a tizzy as the two just have NO REASON to be together other than boning, and even then he’s apparently not a good partner so why then. They have nothing in common and she mocks and belittles him all the fucking time, mocking his hobbies, finding his job boring, and mocking him as a person. And not sharing hobbies or finding his job intresting would be fine, and still work but it’s the constant teasing about it that comes off far more vitrolic than probably intended that just makes me hope for a divorce. Here it’s not only much milder but they did actually get a divorce because their just diffrnet people and i’m not mad the ship was sunk. It was done in a poetic way. 

And part of that poetry is Alex realizing that as doomed as things ended up being, via a very sweet montage of their time together.. he realizes he can’t loose this all together. That sure he’d gain a lot and porbably woudlnt’ be living in a closet, but he’d loose all the good times, and he’d loose a friend. His marriage wasn’t so bad he wants to erase it it just ended and that happens. Naturally the other alex’s don’t feel that way but Alex stops them.. Josh is too drunk at this point to help, and ends up creating a time vortex. The vortex sends our heroes home, where Alex realizes his mistake and apologizes for it to bridgette and signs the papers in front of her.  As for the Alexs we get a horrifying and hilarous gag as, given they’ve all commented each other is handsome.. start having an orgy, and are later found in amber and their dna is used to create our alex apparently. How does that work?

Point is this episode.. is a masterwork. It’s emotoinal, hilarious, and really good character work, with Alex having a really stellar arc that shades him in and putts a final button in his and bridgettes relationship. And having seen many ships I like end horribly, it’s nice to have one end in a satsifying way like this. Also we see Alex in his borat thong, and i’d just like to point out how funny I find it that the same year they made a borat joke, specifically on it being from a decade or two ago, we ended up getting a second Borat movie. Very niceeee. 

World’s Greatest Teacher: This one was alright. On the bright side we got a Mr.Cambell episode! I”ve loved the guy since first meeting him in 100% no stress day, it was the first episode and that hasn’t changed and he’s always a bright spot when he shows up. So an episode about him dealing with a rival teacher, MS. Lake a twice a week music teacher gunning for his job and his students love sounded made for me. In practice he gets a bit too petty to be symapthetic which takes things down a peg, even if it turns out  Ms. Lake really is coming for his ass Teddy Bear, but it has enough good gags to help it still be a fun episode.

The biggest one and the biggest reason I sitll like the episode is Timothy’s coffe mug for world’s greatest teacher.. which naturally comes to life, possibly as a psychotic break possibly for real because of the show this is, and starts speaking in the dulcet tones of keith david. ANd i’ve made no secret I love and am thirsty for Keith David on this blog and never will, and having him voice an abusive fowl mouthed coffee mug  is something I dind’t know I need but boy did I always need it my entire life. Yes even as a baby. It’s just glorious every time he shows up. The climax is also great as the two teachers end up bonding over the greatest love of all and george micheal after Candace invites River to a part sh’esd having for her tooth coming out, and end up becoming frinemies, a nice solution i was glad to see. Even if i’ll miss evil keith david coffee mug. Rest in power my dude. 

Where’d You Go, Bridgette? The second major Bridgette episode of the season and like “Haunted Couch” this one’s an instant classic. After realizing Bridgtte’s already out of control addition to her phone has gotten even worse, Pearle confinscates it and takes her to detox. This leads to two great plots; Bridgette going into withdrawl, complete with an inspired nightmare sequence about her aps and missing her friends death because she was on her phone and the rest of the cast thinking sh’es been kidnapped because she’s not on social media, which while stupid is DELIGHTFULLY stupid and makes some sense given how glued to her phone she is. They end up calling a true crime podcast over, two egosticial college girls who quickly blame them for it despite it making no sense and their fans torm the apartment, and don’t belivie it when bridgette actually shows up.. It takes an inspired speech from Bridgette, whose developed as a person and after actually tasting a late for the first time sees how good they are, and Pearle posting that speech online to dismiss them and our heroes are saved. It’s an utterly amazing plot from josh being excited about the mob attacking them, to Pearle revealing part of the reason she’s so dedicated to helping bridgette is due to her own weird addiction to six flags, which is just so oddly specific I love it. 

The Erotic Awakening of A.P. Lapearle This one STARTED well, with Alex reading his viking erotic to everyone, and not getting that Candace maybe shouldn’t be there, only for Pearle to be the only one to actually enjoy it and be inspired by her enjoyment of his work to submit it to a publisher. The publisher ends up making a valid point that women want erotic fantasy from someone they can feel safe by and alex is well.. alex, so he suggests using pearle as a front. it goes how you’d expect: he wants actual credit, the publisher slowly pushes him out, she regrets it, they fight an army of fans and make them vomit with alex reading the book.. standard stuff. It’s just not very funny or a great insight into either characters, and is easily the weakest episode of the season.. though the next one gave it close compettition. 

Men Rock!

This one was a chore to sit through, and is only ahead of the last one because it has some really good josh bits and musical numbers which is more than the last one gave me so hey. In a nutshell Emily is on the verge of quitting her and Bridgette’s music careers as she feels they’ll never be famous only for their latest song Men Rock!, an ironic title for a sarcastic song poking fun at a bunch of toxic masculinty bs that is a good song, has hit it HUGE in a fictonal foreign dicatroship and get invited to go, reclutantly agreeing. If you haven’t seen the ep, you can still guess how this goes: say it with me THEY TOOK IT AT FACE VALUE. So our heroines have to help inspire the repressed women and inspire a bloody cou, helped by josh finding some improisoned femisinists in a bathroom. They also gain a fan. it has a few good gags, mostly Candace trying to remind her dad to help her find a place to pee after he keeps getting sidetracked by being taken back by Emily’s sucess. I’ts just a very bad, very predictable episode with very obvious misogyn is bad jokes. And misgoyny IS bad but other shows, paticuarlly tuca and bertie with one early episode, have tackeld this topic better. This episode did not. Last one. 

Secret Horse:

This one in stark contrast is one of the series best and an utter joy to watch. On a bad day for the whole apartment with some santa anna winds, an adorable, poofy mained utterly precious horse gets free and ends up at the apartment. Thus we get a vingettte episode, as the horse has a delightful adventure with each of our main 7, and each up tot he last try and hide the horse badly only for the horse to suddenly sprout up and help their mood.

I do love a good vinegtte episode, with two of my faviorite simpsons episodes being 22 short films about springfiled (Minus kirk dragging MIlhouse away from the bathroom, fuck you you balding asshat, it makes the episode hard to watch) ,and trilogy of error, and this is a classic example of it as we get some fun adventures fro each of the housemates: Candace plays with the horse, adorably so, Josh finds it in the garage as his car breaks down and takes them on an install with him, even stuffing them into a suit and we get a great bit of the horse getting fed sugarcubes and josh money. Brigette gets help living in the now instead of posting about it all the time.

My faviorite comes next as Alex needs new patches for his suit but obviouslyc n’t afford them so he takes the ponyt ot he track.. to help him pick which horses to bet on. It’s just such an inherntly funny idea, especially since it works, and really the horse is just hilarious wherever it ends up. It next helps randy win a skating contest, we get a touching story as Pearle misses her old tragically dead horse partner and uses our boy as a subtitute and finlaly we get emily who needs help relaxing and while she naturally calls animal control she hangs up as she falls for hte horse. The group all fight over the horse in the end, the horse leaves and they let it go home, wonder if it was a hallucination and it whizes on thier car. Overall a really great finale and a wonderful note to go out on. 

Overall Ranking I’ve decided eveyr time I do one of these, or a post season wrapup of a show i’ve covered every episode of the season to rank them from best to worst sooo

Birthdaze Time Hooch Haunted Couch Secret Horse Where’d You Go Bridgette? Sauce face Houseguest  From Hell Joint Break Josh Gets Shredded World’s Greatest Teacher Meet the Frackers Handy Man Up Cyber Matrix Men Rock!  The Erotic Awakening of A.P. Lapearle

And i’d like to note that outside of the bottom two hear.. I enjoyed ALL of these. WHich leads to

Final Thoughts; This season was excellent. It had everything the first season had the heart, the character and the utterly great sense of humor, and fine tuned it to be a well oiled machine I could hardly stop laughing at and with tons of great character stuff. Before it had the potetial to surpass regular show but now it has as despite having a few dud episodes itself, as is intievitble in any show, now, they still aren’t as bad as a lot of RS’s early misteps. And Regular SHow as a FANTASTIC show and really stuck the landing, so i’m only saying this is even better and can only go up from here. And even if it stays about the same quality wise, that won’t be a bad place to be. This season was near damn perfect, i’ll probably watch it again and again, and I can’t wait to devour more and given the current tragectory probably will this year. And I couldn’t be more excited.

If you like this blog follow for more reviews, become a patreon to help reach stretch goals or comission a review outright, details for the latter two on my blog. And i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[norcumii]

If you’re still taking prompts maybe this would be fun? Rex, Cody, and Wolfe maybe other high level command clones drinking or maybe drinking game based upon craziest thing my general has done this week. Crazy not necessarily defined by danger level could be simply bizarre.

This is a direct continuation of the prior ask, because they flowed into each other way too well. Though less drinking, more shenanigans. ^_^;

*****

The sabacc had been pushed aside as too boring – they all cheated anyways; it wasn’t like it was any fun otherwise given how they all counted cards naturally – and Fox had broken out the food stores. Not the snacks – they all had high calorie demands to meet – but the sugars. It hadn’t taken Coruscant long to realize that most clones had some degree of a sweet tooth, and that somewhere in Fox’s obscenely complicated calculation of what ‘just enough bribery’ meant, interesting sugary foods with a long shelf life had a lot of heft.

Fox divvied out equal portions, then shoved a candy bar forward as a wager. Everyone met it, though there was some good-natured arguing over Bly’s possible under-wager of a pasty...thing? His taste in sweets didn’t match anyone else’s in the group, so his evaluations were always subject to this sort of joking debate.

Bets placed, Fox started. “Last week,” he said, already in that ‘no shit there I was would you believe this?’ tired tone, “Senator Chuchi held a mini celebration of some kind of traditional Pantoran festival for several schools near the Senate.” He made a face. “And no one told us how many explosive rockets the traditional Pantorans use to celebrate. Dozens of calls about explosives, three days worth of people on the news reports ‘uncovering a Seppie attack’ that the guard doesn’t want anyone to know about, and cleanup after either hyper or traumatized younglings.”

Wolffe was already shaking his head and tipping his chair back – apparently General Koon had had a calm few weeks without adopting anything weird – again – or Wolffe was saving things for larger stakes later.

Gree snorted. “General Unduli realized our battlefield contained some kind of ancient ruin in it. It’d take us maybe two days to clear the place, another to make sure everything was safe for exploration, but she had to go poking around it, in the middle of battle, because.... I don’t know, I never did get a decent explanation for it. She didn’t find anything stunning, it still took us three days to clear things, but now in the middle we had the Jedi romping around some underground dungeon looking for archaeological treasure during the battle.”

Rex snickered. “And you went with, of course.” Gree didn’t answer beyond a rude gesture, so Rex kept going with his contribution. “Skywalker decided us being short on rations meant we had to forage.” Everyone around the table groaned, because that was never a fun experience with any Jedi, let alone Skywalker. His notions of what was edible didn’t match most sentients, and while the clones seemed to have a much broader definition than the standard Galactic citizen, even they had limits. “So he went and found some bugs for us to bring home.”

Keeli raised a brow, going for bait Cody knew better than to take even if he hadn’t heard this story at length already. “We already know he eats bugs, and it’s not that weird. Why go for a loss instead of a forfeit?”

Rex smirked at him. “The bugs were about the size of an AT-RT.” That earned a chorus of groans and winces. Cody snickered, shaking his head. He was so glad that’d been the 501st at that, because the notion of Kenobi getting to play with non-sentient bugs the size of a scout walker was several kinds of terrifying.

Also, bug steaks of that size? Ugh, that sounded like a right pain in the ass.

He folded, because Kenobi hadn’t provided many mid-range shenanigans in the last while. It was all either minor bullshit or really dumb spectacles, no middle ground, so he’d have to pace himself tonight.

Bly started the next round. “General Secura forgot the local peace treaty negotiations were clothing optional,” he declared with a hangdog expression, to a mix of groaning cheers and cackles. Most of them bowed out of that round, except for Colt.

Their usually Kamino-bound brother smirked at Bly. “General Ti thought a double date would be subtle and somehow seem like Jedi showing troopers a fun, educational evening about nat-borns, not an actual double-date.”

Bly yelped and threw his cap at Colt, who took it to the face and kept up the shit-eating grin. The cheering and loud jokes only got louder as they realized Colt was implying that date would be after the usual Commanders get-together, and in the end that round got called a draw.

They kept going, and the night’s list of shame ran from General Ti trying to teach cadets how to hunt with a life exercise and a tooka that was intended to be taken alive, to Kenobi’s grand flirtation with Grievous, Ventress, and Trench in the middle of a running battle that somehow had the Jedi pinning each of them at least once while making inappropriate comments.

Cody hadn’t been surprised to win that round.

All in all, a good night – especially when Colt and Bly got summoned by their Jedi for some ‘cultural exploration.’

He was willing to wager they’d have some interesting stories the next time they were on planet.

~end

[justfortay]

Folklore is one big breakup song with public life, theory

I think the TS8/ Folklore album is one big metaphor for her breakup from public life or at least an announcement of taking a long sabbatical...as well as a few nods to her engagement, or even quarantine marriage. I’ve included the lyrics below that support this theory, as well as some small explanations. The lyrics in large part, speak for themselves. Song titles are in bold. 

the one

“But we were something, don't you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool.”

Could reference her twenties, which were all in the public eye. 

“In my defense, I have none For never leaving well enough alone But it would've been fun If you would've been the one”

Could mean she kept pushing the envelope on her career, which catapulted her to success, and ridicule. 

“Having adventures on your own You meet some woman on the Internet and take her home”

New artists are now found on the internet...the music industry has changed so much during her time as an artist.

“We never painted by the numbers, baby But we were making it count”

She has never played by the rules of the music industry. 

“You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.”

Her relationship with the music industry, one of the best of all time, is ending.

“Persist and resist the temptation to ask you If one thing had been different Would everything be different today?”

“In my defense, I have none For digging up the grave another time“.

Possible reflections on lessons learned during her time?

my tears ricochet

“if I'm on fire You'll be made of ashes, too. “

If she goes down, others in the music industry do too. 

Even on my worst day Did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day.”

She didn’t deserve everything the media/industry put her through, but she still loved/loves music.

“I didn't have it in myself to go with grace”

She didn’t want to leave the way she is, but she Is.

“And if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? Cursing my name Wishing I stayed”

The music industry has wanted her out but wanted her back.

“We gather stones Never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw Some to make a diamond ring”

Music industry throwing the stones....diamond ring for her marriage. 

“And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want Just not home”

Home has always been where she can sing/play music for her fans. 

“And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones”

If she leaves the industry, those that made money off of her will want her back. “And when you can't sleep at night You hear my stolen lullabies“

Stolen lullabies are all the songs Scooter Braun/Big Machine took.

mirrorball

@bethpines1-blog​‘s theory on reddit I think hit the nail on the head for this one. 

https://www.reddit.com/r/TaylorSwift/comments/hxobln/theory_mirrorball_is_taylors_song_for_her_fans/fz7lkge?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3

"Standing on my tallest tip-toes, dancing in my highest heels love, shining just for you" reminds me so much of her on tour. How she used to dance for us in those astonishingly high heels every night.”-@bethpines

"I know they said the end is near" sounds like she is aware that most people don't expect her career to live on for very long now that she has reached her 30s.-@bethpines

"But I'm still on my tallest tip-toes, dancing in my highest heels love, shining just for you" sounds so haunting in the fact that despite everything she is still trying and still dancing and still going on with the show despite it all.-@bethpines

The melancholy sound of the empty club mirrorball seems to take place in is so sad. It sounds like she thinks she is on her last leg, the last seconds of her five minutes of fame. Yet she keeps on dancing, just for us.-@bethpine

“And they called off the circus, burned the disco down

When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns I’m still on that tightrope I’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me I’m still a believer, but I don’t know why I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try I’m still on that trapeze I’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me”

this is me trying

“I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

This sounds like she was on top of the music world but is now getting older.

“I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that“

She didn’t know if anyone would care if share came back after Kim & Kayne tried to cancel her. 

“They told me all of my cages were mental So I got wasted like all my potential.”

This represents how she felt during all the Kayne drama. 

“And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad I have a lot of regrets about that.”

Possible regrets from her time in the industry.

“I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here“

She has talked about how she was never a “cool kid” in high school, but now she’s one of the most famous people on the planet. 

illicit affairs

“Make sure nobody sees you leave Hood over your head Keep your eyes down”

Could mean she doesn’t want everyone knowing when she leaves the public eye. 

“What started in beautiful rooms Ends with meetings in parking lots“

Could reference how she’s “breaking up” with public life. 

“So you leave no trace behind Like you don't even exist”

Could mean that she wants to slip away like Meg Ryan did from the spotlight and just live her life. 

“A drug that only worked The first few hundred times”

Could mean that the “high” she gets from music may not be worth living in the public eye anymore?

“Don't call me kid Don't call me baby Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else And you know damn well For you I would ruin myself A million little times”

Could mean that she would give anything for her managers & label at one point, but not anymore. 

mad woman

I think this song is particularly for Scooter Braun & Big Machine. 

“Every time you call me crazy I get more crazy What about that? And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry And there's nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you'll poke that bear till her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around And there's nothing like a mad woman”

“Now I breathe flames each time I talk My cannons all firing at your yacht They say "move on" But you know I won't And women like hunting witches, too Doing your dirtiest work for you”

These lyrics speak volumes. 

the lakes

I think this whole song is about taking a sabbatical with Joe & especially with her mom (her mother now having her third bout of cancer).

“Is it romantic how all my elegies Eulogize me?”

Eulogies are given at funerals...again, her funeral from the public eye?

“I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones These hunters with cellphones. Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm settin' off, but not without my muse.”

Again, the industry has changed and with social media, everything she does is scrutinized. Could mean she’s not feelin’ this life anymore. 

“What should be over, burrowed under my skin In heart-stopping waves of hurt.”

Could mean she’s still processing years of scrutiny from the press. 

“I've come too far to watch some name-dropping sleaze Tell me what are my Wordsworth”

Could be another reference to Scooter Braun/Big Machine.

“A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground

With no one around to tweet it While I bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love And insurmountable grief”

This seems like grief about leaving the music industry.

And lastly....

From the one, “Been saying "Yes" instead of "No" “.....I think she may have taken some vows during quarantine.

From hoax 

“Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue But you”

Meaning, Joe is nothing but faithful...and we know blue is the color she uses to reference him.

“No other sadness in the world would do”...could be sadness because of leaving music for a while?

I heard this from a friend’s sister, so I’m not sure where it originated, but the first word of the first song on the album is “I” and the last word of the last song is “do”. 

Let me know what you think! There is definitely a break up theme in this album, but she hasn’t broken up with Joe. Do you agree that the breakup could be with living a public life?

[kyokajiro-imagines]

The league of Disney Villains part 2:

A/n: this is really long but totally worth reading!

[In the same industrial shed as the last part]

Hawks: *Is standing on pile of crates- The rest of the league are standing around*

Hawks: ALRIGHT! Votes are in for the cast places and scene recreations we’ll be doing from our first movie- Cinderella!

Shigaraki: The *bleep*.

Dabi: I second that notion.

Toga: Can I stab someone in it?!

Hawks: No-

Mr Compress: I’m looking forward to this- We should have fun.

Hawks: That’s the spirit!

Spinner: I refuse to waste my limited life on this- *Twice pokes him*

Twice: If you voted for who I did then this should be fun! > If you didn’t vote for them then this will totally suck.

Shigaraki: If any of you morons voted for me as the princess I’ll disintegrate-

Hawks: STOP! Come on guys, we’re having fun! I’ll announce the rolls.

Dabi: Kill me now.

Hawks: As the fairy godmother- SHIGARAKI. *Is trying to hold in his laughter as everyone howls with laughter- Twice and Spinner high five. Shigaraki looks lost, angry and confused all at once*

Toga: PLEASE CAN I STAB SOMEONE?!

Shigaraki: Why is that relevant?!

Toga: It just is-

Hawks: NEXT! As the Prince- Twice!

Twice: GET READY FOR THE MOST CHARMING, MOST CAPTIVATING, MOST DEVISHLY HANDSOME- > This whole thing is a moronic- I won’t act for this!

Spinner: HAHA!

Mr Compress: Oh dear who’s the unlucky main?

Hawks: I don’t know- *Pulls paper out to check- Pauses, tries not to laugh, fails- Spends next 5 minutes on the ground crying from laughter*

Dabi: You right there?

Hawks: Fine- Alright- *Gets up* Ok- Our main star of this recreation as Cinderella is- *Covers mouth, winces and proceeds to stop laughter*

Hawks: Dabi.

*Everyone howls with laughter- Shigaraki joins and slaps the floor, accidentally disintegrating part of it

Shigaraki: Revenge has never been sweeter.

Dabi: THE HELL DID YOU DO THIS?!

Toga: Oh my gosh! You’re gonna looks so pretty! *Pulls out knife*

Twice: Aww c’mon. > IGNORE HIS PLACEMENT AND STAB HIM!

Toga: ESPECIALLY AFTER I STAB YOU!

Dabi: *Holds up cross- Hisses* Get away from me psycho-

Hawks: *Ignores the chaos beginning*

Hawks: As the step sisters we have Toga and Spinner, Mr compress is stage hand 1

[10 minutes later]

Hawks: Alright- *Looks up* Is everyone ready?

Dabi: NO! I will cremate you, you little- *Is using flames as defence against Toga*

Toga: *Giggling as she dodges* This is fun!!!

Twice: *Cheerleading* Stay alive Dabi!!! > Get im’ Toga!

Shigaraki: This is stupid.

Spinner: 60 bucks if Toga doesn’t stab Dabi in the next 10 minutes?

Shigaraki: Hell yeah- I’m in. I bet he does.

Mr Compress: I place a bet of 70 that Hawks stops them-

Shigaraki: Higher, old man.

Mr Compress: 100 dollars- If I’m right you both pay up?

Shigaraki: Better.

Spinner: Deal!

Hawks: Alright- You guy’s continue your bet and I’ll go get costumes!

Dabi: *Dabi runs past- His arms bleeding and Toga is slipping after him* Holy *Bleep* she stabbed me in the arm!

Toga: STABBY STAB STAB!!!

Shigaraki: Haha! Pay up morons-

Hawks: What measurements are you? I need to know for your costume.

Shigaraki: Guess chickenman-

Hawks: Says the future fairy godmother.

Shigaraki: *Taking coins from Spinner and Compress* At least I’m going to be a rich godmother!

Dabi: What the hell?!

#Take 1- Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo

Hawks: Alright- Everyone In positions! Handyman, you’ll run in when Dabi dramatically throws himself on to the nearest object and sobs about his problems!

Shigaraki: *Is in the fairy godmother costume- Bow and all. His hands are still on his body and face*

Shigaraki: Are you aware that after this I’m going to throw you off a cliff Lion King style?

Hawks: Ha- I can fly~ *Spreads out wings, Dabi whistles and Toga seems to be taking notes*

Shigaraki: Then I’ll throw you into the nearest meat grinder.

Spinner: Woah- Is there a need to do that?!

Twice: *Dressed as the prince but still wearing his mask*

Twice: THERE IS ALWAYS A NEED MY PRISTINE SCALY FRIEND- EVEN IF ITS HIDDEN IN THE DARKNESS OF THE NIGHT AND THE SHINING EBONY OF THE STARS! > There’s always a reason idiot.

Dabi: Ugh- Why are you talking like that?

Twice: Whatever do you mean my fair Cinderella? > Cinderella? More like lady cremation hehe < I talk as a prince of my standard should- My vocal presentation should be as strong as a dragon and as smooth as honey! Now come, take my hand! > Don’t do that- I don’t even want to do this.

Dabi: What. The. Hell. I refuse.

Mr Compress: Fabulous language my friend- Keep up the act! *Bows- Hawks claps*

Hawks: Alright, Cinderella - or lady cremation- Go get into the dress.

Dabi: No.

Shigaraki: I’m in this damn cloak, get into your dress.

Dabi: I refuse- *Toga runs in*

Toga: YEET! *Throws destroyed hot pink dress at him- Runs up to Hawks, high fives him and runs behind Twice*

Hawks: Fine- Take of your shirt and put that on. *Toga pulls out notebook, writes notes*

Dabi: The heck- No! *Picks it up* This isn’t even a proper shirt! *Throws it at Twice who catches it*

Hawks: Do it or Twice will clone Toga and leave you in a room with 10 of her. Doors locked, no escape.

Dabi: *Looks angrily at dress then Toga several times- sighs*

Dabi: Fine. Give me the *bleep* dress. *Snatches it from Twice- Storms off into other room*

Hawks: Alright- Here’s a pouch full of glitter and a wand~ *Passes both to Shigaraki- The wand is a stick*

Hawks: Wave your wand, do the lines we practiced and glitter bomb Dabi. Then Spinner will fix his outfit to the gown. Everyone ready?

Dabi: *Storms in- Is in shredded pink dress* Why the hell did you spend money on this?!

Toga: He didn’t- I stabbed it for him!

Hawks: Normally I waste my money on sparkly jewellery- This is way better!

Dabi: Wait what-

Shigaraki: Back on track hot topic and chickenman- I don’t want to be here all day.

Hawks: Right! IN POSITIONS!

(Five minutes later- A rock had been put on top of fake lawn and a forest backdrop had been hung on the wall. A spinner clone was hanging from the roof by string and holding a flashlight which was being used as a spotlight- All the lights were turned on. Dabi was standing near the rock and to the side out of the set was Shigaraki and a Spinner holding a large gown and clear flip flops- The conversation for those?

Hawks: Sorry, I could only find these- Can you make special and unique footwear for Dabi out of these?

Shigaraki: What do you want me to do? Throw glitter on them?

Hawks: Sounds good- Do Whatever you want.

Hawks and the rest of the league were sitting on crates)

Hawks: And action~

Dabi: *Deadpan* Oh dear my dress, my life is ruined just like it, I’ll never get my *bleep* happy ending, life isn’t fair- *Puts hand on head and throws self on rock* Sob sob sad noises whatever- My life is terrible-

*Glitter explosion, Shigaraki walks in*

Shigaraki: Stop Crying and get over it- I can get you to the ball.

Dabi: My is that- Who are you oh ugly mystical lady.

Shigaraki: Your damn fairy godmother- *Swishes wand- His face is blank and he looks dead inside* Now get up. Blah blah blah- pumpkins, horses and yadda yadda~

Hawks: *Gestures to Toga who starts playing music- gestures to Shigaraki who Inhales, growling*

Shigaraki: Stupid chicken- *inhales again* Salagadoola mechicka boola- Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo- (Proceeds to walk around Dabi and swish his wand, performing the song Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo- finishes*

Dabi: *Trying not to laugh as Shigaraki flips him off, hitting in the head with a wand*

Shigaraki: Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo. *Throws glitter on Dabi and waved his hand* Magic happiness and cringe- Be back before midnight blah blah blah or else.

Dabi: Hey- *Is somehow in Cinderella ball gown with flip flops on- Two of Shigaraki’s hands are on each shoe- they’re his wrist ones. Looks like there were no glass slippers available*

Dabi: THE *bleep*?!

Shigaraki: Manners you ungrateful brat- *Hits Dabi with wand again- the rest of the league are trying not to laugh* What do you think?

Dabi: You’re suppose to be hitting less and rhyming more- *Is hit with wand again*

Shigaraki: Shut up, I do what I want. Now go- Be free. Preferably hit as many pedestrians on you’re way there- *Shoves a confused and outraged Dabi off set*

Shigaraki: *Walks to the centre of the stage- bows and throws glitter. Runs off*

Everyone: Silence.

Hawks: Oh my gosh. I can’t believe I actually got to witness that- *Bursts out laughing along with everyone else. Dabi and Shigaraki start growling at each other- It isn’t that intimidating due to their fabulous outfits*

Mr Compress: Now, now, time for the next scene!

#Take 2- Its midnight!

Hawks: Annnd action! *Crates have been stacked like stairs and a carpet has been stuck over them- a platform is at the top and Dabi is with Twice. Dabi is fidgeting angrily in his dress*

Toga: *Whispers* Stab him- stab him-

Twice: Come on Dabi- Just leap into my arms and dance! > Don’t- I can’t be seen with you like that~

Dabi: I got into the dress, am wearing dead people and am now being forced to re-enact one of the most annoying scenes of all time.

Twice: Like this- *Attempts to Grabs Dabi’s hand- He jumps out of the way and points angrily, picking up dress*

Dabi: *Bleep* NO.

Twice: Here, if you can’t dance I’ll guide you- *Dabi set hands on fire growls and crouches gremlin style*

Twice: Jesus- > We’re going to get killed by the mogwai over here! < I KNOW! I’ll just clone you Dabi and show that clone what we’re doing! Now prepare yourself my fair lady cremation, for I shall show you my love! > KILL ME NOW. *Makes Dabi clone- It’s just a normal Dabi, not a Cinderella Dabi. They look confused*

Clone Dabi: What the hell? Aren’t we suppose to be at the-

Twice: Shhh my precious Dabi- *Puts a finger over his lip, gestures to the stairs* We’re Disney now! > Run. *True Dabi watches near the edge of the balcony, observing*

Clone Dabi: What’s happening? And don’t touch me-

[TBC...]

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Farmer’s Market AU Part 2

Steve dreamed of the beach. All night and every day that first week. He could hear the waves and gulls, feel the sand between his toes— even just sitting at his desk at work. He could close his eyes on his lunch break or in between sales calls, and in his mind’s eye he could see a dazzling grin. Golden hair. A blue eyed wink.

A fucking wink— Billy Hargrove had called him “something sweet”, taken Steve’s hand, and winked.

All of that first week, Steve walked around in a fog of heavy summer heat, the phantom smell of thick, floral honey making his heart race.

“You’re smiling.” Wanda would often remark, one of those acquaintances at the nearest desk at work. Her eyebrow would be raised, her lips set in a wry smirk. “What’re you smiling about?”

The dreamy tilt of his lips on that Friday was stronger than usual, and for once, Steve didn’t shrug off the question.

The grin took over his face, and Wanda chuckled with disbelief.

“You getting laid? I’ve never seen you like this.”

Steve laughed, nearly giddy “I guess I met someone, maybe.”

He was surprising himself, honestly.

Steve Harrington had a rep back home— he was King Steve, the best fuck in school, a smooth talker, and a guy you could bring home to mom. The perfect boyfriend.

But Steve Harrington had never been wooed before. He was always the one trying to romance some chick— he’d never felt desired the way he did when Billy had started in on him. The blonde had chuckled and grinned that beautiful grin that day at the little honey stand. He talked with glimmering blue eyes, and told Steve all about the farmers market. Who’s stall was who’s— all while still holding Steve’s honey-smeared hand.

Not even with Nancy had he ever been so taken with someone. Billy had taken his hand and sold him some honey, and Steve was absolutely smitten. Steve didn’t even use honey, what do you even do with honey?

He bought more the next Saturday. And the next.

He couldn’t just show up at the farmers market every week without buying anything. Then it would be too obvious what he was there to do. Steve could almost hear his mother saying “Steven, it’s rude to hang around a shop without buying anything”. Her eye roll in his mind’s eye was vivid.

He didn’t particularly miss her.

So, he bought more jars every week— to send home? Maybe just to collect dust in his house? Steve wasn’t sure yet, he couldn’t manage to think that far ahead. He could barely manage to think at all with Billy Hargrove so close to him.

Steve went to the market every week for nearly a month, his heart pattering, his lips tilted in an absent smile as he approached the little town from the beach. He’d make a slow circle, perusing around each stall, trying not to look too eager, before landing at the Hargrove’s Honey stand.

On the fourth week, Billy was grinning at him like he always was when Steve inevitably ended up before him, pretending to weigh the merits of wildflower versus orange blossom. There was a giddy amusement that shone in those blue eyes that made Steve want to laugh.

“Welcome to Hargrove’s Honey— can I help you find something particular?” He drawled, smirking.

“Oh, me? I’m just like the bees, Man-- looking for something sweet.” Steve said, his turn to wink across the table. It was terrible, and he knew it. The blonde threw his head back with a laugh. 

“Ew, you’re a fucking sap.” he chuckled, glowing with his smile. 

“I’ll take this.” Steve held out a small jar with a drawing of lavender sprigs on the label. He kept a tight lid on the grin that threatened at his lips. His cheeks felt hot, but Steve told himself it was the summer heat.

Bees hovered lazily around them as Steve handed over his little jar, his gut flipping when Billy’s fingers brushed over his to take it.

“Lavender this week?” Came a new voice, a low whistle accompanying it.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin.

Billy’s smile slipped away and he rolled his eyes, unable to hide his blush as he turned to the woman who had appeared beside him.

She laughed— definitely making fun of them both, but somehow not unkind as she ruffled a hand through Billy’s curls. He squawked indignantly and Steve would have poked a little fun at him if he wasn’t rooted to the spot taking in this new person.

“You go through honey like no one I’ve ever seen— and this guy can eat it with a spoon.” The strange woman joked with Steve as if they were friends or something, gesturing to Billy.

“Mom, what the Hell—“

“Just having a little fun, Billy.” She grinned, turning her attention back to Steve. “So, young man— what brings you to our little market every week?”

Steve wasn’t quite listening.

Mom. Billy had said that he ran the stand with his mom, but Steve hadn’t seen her. Now he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known it immediately.

The family resemblance was almost more like goddamn cloning. Billy’s mom had the same wild blonde curls that she’d somehow wrangled into a long plait over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and laser focused, more manic than Billy’s warm gaze, but the same striking blue.

Her tan was sprinkled with delicate dustings of freckles, and Steve felt the sudden need to inspect every inch of Billy’s golden skin for those same spots.

She was beautiful— like mother, like son, he supposed.

“You come by just about every week now, don’t you?” Mrs. Hargrove repeated, a wry smirk burning into him.

“Oh, I’m— just picking up honey for friends back home.” He stumbled through the words “I’m new to the area.”

Her smirk spread into a sly grin “Well, welcome to Morro Bay. What’s your name, Sweetie?”

“Steve.” Both Steve and Billy said in tandem, each just a bit more mortified than the other.

There was a beat of silence where Mrs. Hargrove’s blue gaze flicked between the two of them and Steve had the inexplicable feeling of a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Or maybe a honey pot.

“Well Steve, could you be so kind as to help Billy load up the truck? It’s just, my back has been bothering me, and old Tom over there’s been needing my help with his strawberry stand, and—“

“You didn’t tell me about any back pain.” Billy groused, brow furrowed and a flush high on his cheeks.

“Well, it just started.” She said pointedly—

“I’d be happy to help, Mrs. Hargrove.” Steve cut in, smiling hastily.

Billy looked about embarrassed enough to have an actual coronary, but his mom clapped both her hands around Steve’s, squeezing.

“Thank you. What a sweet boy— Billy, show him how to load up the crates?” From the moment she’d arrived, the bees had found a new purpose in their flying, and by the time she looked back at Steve in that moment,there was a veritable halo of honey bees around her hat.

Steve was about to say something, but couldn’t find the words before Mrs. Hargrove floated away, calling “and come by for lunch at the farm— Billy can drive you up, I’ll go with Tom.”

The bees dispersed, flying back to Billy’s tomato red, wide eyed face as if drawn by magnetism. And Steve couldn’t help but smile, thinking that maybe Billy had been right on that first day that they’d met. Bees were just like people.

Steve felt drawn to Billy, too. Especially once no card table of honey jars was between them. Especially once it was just Steve and Billy, riding side by side in a truck full of crates, heading further and further into the countryside.

Steve listened to every frantic, embarrassed apology, and “Mom’s not crazy, she’s just a little wild-- you’ll like her once you get to know her... Not that you have to get to know her, you don--” 

“I already like her, Billy. I... I like both of you.”

And maybe Billy felt drawn to him too— like honey to a bee— when he reached over the center console and took Steve’s hand.

Steve intertwined their fingers, relishing the calloused roughness of his fingers and the contrast of the tanned skin. His heart hammered and his head buzzed with the static on the radio, and watched the green hills and wineries race by under the noon day sun.

[emaleesky]

Tango Under Our Stars

Title: Tango under our stars

Rating: NC-17

Summary: A All Hollow’s Eve party turned into a sexy tango for Luke and Emalee Skywalker, not just on the dance floor. Disclaimer: Star Wars is George’s and now Disney as well, even though I wish I could have some part in it. But I guess that is life.

Warning: Luke being sexy

Timeline: Legends, EU, 29 ABY (Alternative Universe)

Author's Note: Luke has been married to Emalee for almost eight years, have seven children, three and two sets of twins (Kristofer, Annika, Alec, twins, Jenna, Jayden, Taylor and Tyler).  Please read…but don’t be hurtful…be kind. Remember a loyal friend laughs at her jokes when they're not so good, and sympathizes with her problems when they're not so bad. ~Arnold H. Glasgow.

*******************************************************************

New Republican Minister of State, Emalee Skywalker drifted through the Organa Solo apartment and admired the spooky splendor of the All Hollow’s Eve party; fake cobwebs hung from the walls, paper lanterns dangled from the ceiling, and she didn’t know who made it so that a ghost appeared in a ghoulish green willow-the-wisp form flying around the room, it could have been Jacen, Anakin or Jaina, but since they were on Yavin IV at the Jedi Academy she had a feeling it was Han’s doing.

She had to admit, Leia did do a wonderful job decorating. Spooky decorations, all colored black and orange to fit in with the theme, had been pasted over the walls, and grinning jack-o-lanterns spewed flickering candle light from the corners of the room. Classic spooky tunes were being piped into the mess over the intercom, and the partygoers were either talking excitedly in small groups or were dancing on the makeshift dance floor in the living room.

Since her children, Kristofer, Annika, Alec, twins, Jenna, Jayden, Taylor and Tyler were with their grandparents on Penna enjoying the holiday with their cousins, along with Artoo, and their cats and dogs, Emalee helped Leia the previous day baking up a storm, and the kitchen now was full of the delicious smells of pumpkin pie, caramel apples, and more sugary treats then any normal person could possibly hope to eat in one night. There was even a giant punch bowl in one corner filled with a spooky bubbling brew, and though it smelled distinctly alcoholic, Emalee couldn’t attest to the contents; though she happily helped herself to a glass of the very green liquid.

“Cara Mia,” a voice whispered in her ear, speaking Pennian to her.  Emalee smiled and turned to find Luke at her side, a devilish grin on his handsome face as he straightened his Jomez Adams costume and quirked an eyebrow at her.  

“Mon Cher,” she purred in return, drawling out the nickname as she twirled in place so her Mortikia Adams dress fanned out around her feet. Emalee had been running late, that night with meetings with delegates from the planet of Henkion and told Luke she’d met him at Leia’s, so even though they had a ‘couple’s costume’ she hadn’t seen it on him, until right now….and she had to admit, he looked amazing.

Luke caught her in his arms and wrapped his hands around her waist; the cinched waist so small that his fingertips almost touched, he wouldn’t know then by touching her, that she’d given him seven children.  He gazed at her adoringly, his warm blue eyes roving over her features as though hungry for the sight of her. The long black wig she was wearing fell around her face like a frame and he brushed it behind her shoulders and gently trailed a thumb over her lip that was stained with black lipstick.

Since he hadn’t seen her before he left their apartment, for she was still at the office, he had to admit she looked breathtaking and the dress left little to the imagination, since it was very low cute, and very sexy. “You look stunning, my love,” he murmured huskily. “How do I look?”

Emalee tried to keep a straight face as she raked her eyes over his face, taking in his slicked back dyed black hair and false pencil mustache; he looked darkly handsome. With a small smirk and stepped forward and kissed his cheek, aware that she would leave a lipstick mark, but loving the idea that she would be marking him as hers for the rest of the evening. “Disturbing,” she quoted with a smile.

Luke laughed softly and slipped an arm around her waist, his fingers brushing lightly over her hip. “You always know just what to say, Princess.” He poured himself a glass of punch and drank cautiously. “Though I suppose we have watched enough Adams Family to know every line off by heart by now.” She sipped her drink and smiled provocatively over the rim. “Understatement of the year, my darling.”

Kristofer, Annika and Alec loved the old holo comedy based on a cartoon during the Clone Wars, and watched it constantly. “Tease.” Luke downed his glass in a single gulp as the music in the apartment swelled and seemed to grow louder; the haunting strains of a familiar tune drifting through the chamber.

The high shivery notes of a violin wrapped themselves around Emalee’s heart, and her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the song as La Cumparsita a Pennian piece that one did the Tango to.

“Is this your doing?” She asked as Luke caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. He nodded and swept into a bow in front of her. “Of course. Would you care to tango?”

Emalee smirked. “Do you have to ask?” Luke whisked her into the dance floor, settling her into his arms with the ease of a man who was a practiced dancer but in a way he was…he could always see, since they first met, the steps in her mind, and just moved easily. Emalee’s dress wasn’t made for dancing The Tango; it was far too tight and restrictive on her upper legs, but she was nothing if not good at improvising on the dance floor, and she never passed up the chance to dance with Luke.

They started slowly and found their rhythm, their bodies moving in sync as they swayed and danced; Luke holding her tightly and securely as he led her in the Tango. They grew bolder with the music, gliding around the room as they teased and stalked each other with their movements. 

Emalee turned in his arms, her back to his chest, swinging her hips and allowing Luke to stretch her arms wide as he pressed kisses along her arms, his mouth moving from one wrist to the other. The dance continued, and they spun around the floor in a blur as they twirled, grinding against one another as they moved to beat; their breath coming faster and hearts pounding as the music swelled, as the Force seemed to amplify around them in brilliance of colors and stars. 

Even the non-sensitives in the room could see it, it was utterly amazing. Luke twirled her and she followed his steps in a complicated pattern and allowed him to dip her backwards, almost bending double as she went on tip toes and balanced, trusting in him to hold her. The music peaked and swelled, the crescendo breaking over them like a wave as Luke pulled her up and kissed her, his lips teasing hers apart as he tasted her with a sexy slide of his tongue. Emalee came back to Earth as whistles and the room burst into applause around them.

Luke smirked, and pulled her close, his hands sliding down her body and gliding over the curve of her ass. “What do you say we get out of here Cara Mia?” He asked huskily, his voice warm against her cheek.

“Yes, Mon Cher.” Emalee whispered and caught Luke’s hand, allowing him to pull her away from the crowd still watching them.

Han tilted his head as they went past. “I think I need to learn how to dance like that,” he commented to Leia. He still didn’t get the Force, but when he saw Luke and Emalee together, he knew….he could see it in reality, and it was amazing.

“Yes,” Leia agreed firmly. “Yes, you definitely do.”

“Hey Em,” Emalee’s attention was jerked over to Wedge, who was dressed up as a werewolf. He smiled at her, showing off his fangs in a toothy grin…he was already drunk, as most of the former Rouse at the party were. “How come we never dance like that?” he complained.

She cuddled close to Luke and poked her tongue out at her friend. “I guess you just don’t have the right moves, Antilles….like my Farmboy does.”

“Ouch!” He clutched his chest and pretended to collapse into Ilea’s waiting arms. “You are a dork, Wedge.” Ilea smirked at her husband.

Luke chuckled as he took Emalee over to Han and Leia and said goodbye. “Leaving so soon…” Leia smirked. She knew what those two were up to…almost eight years, and those two went at it like horny teens.  She was just so happy her brother, was finally happy.

“Yes.” Luke said and gave her a kiss and Han a handshake.

“Have fun, Kids.” Han said as he gave Luke a handshake and Emalee a kiss.

Luke swept Emalee out of the apartment and to their waiting speeder.  Soon they were back at their apartment in Freedom Towers, kissing each other like they hadn’t seen each other in years.  But even though they were so into each other, they made sure to remove their lightsabers, which Emalee loved when Luke removed hers, because it was always on her thigh holster, that he made sure to tease her as he removed it down her leg.

Then he picked her up and whisked her up to their bedroom, and when they entered, Emalee gasped as she glanced around at their transformed room. Since she had changed into her costume at her office, she hadn’t been to the apartment since that morning.

Emalee looked around the room, Luke had decked out the room for the holiday occasion; black velvet was draped over the couches and the bed, pumpkin string lights were strung up, and decorations were everywhere. Luke knew how Emalee loved the autumn, winter holidays from the start of All Hollow’s Eve to New Years, and since she was working so hard at the Ministry of State the past couple of days, he wanted her to have a wonderful evening.

“You like it.”

“Oh my gosh, Luke! I love it!” Emalee gasped, gazing about her as though she were in a wonderland. It was All Hollow’s Eve Heaven! Luke chuckled hearing her thoughts.

“Something told me you would.” He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck and gently nibbling her neck.

“You know; I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance as sexy as you did back there. You drive me wild.”

She chuckled throatily and closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasure and pain as he bit her neck harder. “Well, I do have to keep up with you, you know. It’s easy to feel sexy when I have your hands on my body.” Emalee turned in his arms and slid her hands over his shoulders. “And your eyes staring into my eyes.” She kissed him, a seductive press of her mouth on his. “Your hips grinding against my hips.” She ground her hips against Luke’s for good measure and gasped as his hands slid down her hips and over the curve of her ass. “Feeling your love for me in our bond, feeling the Force around us…” she purred and then turned her back, “Remove my dress for me….”

“Yes Mi’Lady.” He said in his deep voice as his hands drifted up and found the zip at the back of her dress and he slid it down, placing feathery light kisses along her spine as each inch of skin was exposed.

Emalee slipped the dress over her shoulders and allowed it to fall free of her body with a shake of her ships, then turned back to face Luke with a sultry smile on her face. She raised her eyebrows and placed a hand on her hip, aware that the black lace lingerie she’d worn underneath was his favorite.

“Gods you’re beautiful!” He growled and immediately swept her up in his arms. Emalee giggled as Luke carried her Princess style over to their spacious bed and set her down, the crushed black velvet soft against her skin. He shrugged off his jacket and pulled off his tie; carelessly throwing them over his shoulder as he gazed down at her with blazing eyes.

She helped him off with his other clothes, their hands tangling as they both tried to undo his shirt buttons at the same time and ended up ripping the shirt open in a spray of buttons. Finally, he was naked and he grinned down at her as he traced the outline of her lingerie, his fingertips gentle against her skin.

She murmured happily as he eased her out of her underclothes; removing her bra and panties with more love bites and deliciously sexy kisses. Emalee allowed him to pull her up into a sitting position and she crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?” She asked him, her lips hovering over his. “Because I really, really do.”

Luke chuckled and let his hands wander down her naked back, his fingertips tickling as he circled his favorite parts of her body. “I think you might have mentioned it at breakfast and at lunch, but I could stand to hear it a few more times.” He closed the gap between their mouths and kissed her, his tongue dipping into her mouth and swirling around hers with a slide of velvet heat.

“I love you too,” he told her as he broke the kiss. “So much.”

Emalee smiled as she settled herself on his lap more carefully, wrapping her legs around his waist as she reached between then and stroked his erection and kissed him again. She pumped her hand up and down his shaft slowly, enjoying the feel of his thick velvety heat in her hand. Luke groaned and rolled his hips, thrusting against her slowly, his mouth hungry against hers as he deepened the kiss. “Emalee, please!” he begged, tearing his mouth from hers. “I need to be inside of you!”

“Yes, Luke, please yes!” she agreed, her body burning passionately as she positioned him at her entrance and lowered herself down, taking his length into her inch by inch. Luke groaned as he slid inside of her, his shaft stretching and filling that empty space like no one else ever would. As their bond grew in passion and the Force began to glow in ecstasy, they began to move together in a different kind of dance,

Luke’s hands cupping her ass as she rode him. Emalee curled her nails into his shoulders and used her core muscles to roll her hips against his, gasping with pleasure as he thrust himself inside of her as she moved downwards; pleasure shooting through her as he hit that spot inside of her body that made fireworks seem to burst behind her eyes.

Their bodies moved like they had in the tango, grinding and swaying together, but so much closer and more intimately than before as the Force swelled around them, their bond glowing in beautiful colors and flames and stars around them. Luke caught her lower lip in his teeth, biting gently as he urged her to move faster, a fine sheen of sweat covering both of them as he tipped her backwards onto the bed. She moaned and pressed kisses to his shoulders and neck, to any place on his body she could reach, as he began to pound into her harder and faster; their love making reaching a frantic pace as the wonderful tension and pleasure reached fever pitch within them, the Force on the verge of explosion. It was like the moment before a bionic charge, when all that energy built up within her; her body humming and alive and filled with warmth and pleasure. It was like lightning.

Like a storm. And then it burst over her in a crackling wave of ecstasy, their orgasm seeming to shatter her apart as she screamed Luke’s name and came with a flash of light and stars. Luke held her to him tightly, his muscles trembling as blue fire danced over their skin and he thrust one last time deep within her; his fingers pressing her to him tightly as his lips found her in a passionate kiss as their flames of their bond exploded into the stars around them.

They lay together for a long time in the afterglow, sated and happy, Emalee tracing swirly patterns on Luke’s skin and pressing kisses to his chest, while he whispered sweet nothing in her ear.

“Happy All Hollow’s Eve, Cara Mia,” Luke murmured as he wrapped his arms around her tightly, the stars casting a beautiful glow over their velvety bed.

“Happy All Hollow’s Eve to you too, Mon Cher,” Emalee said softly as she snuggled closer to him. “Thank you for an unforgettable evening.”

How long they lay together she didn’t know, but she would have been content to lay there for a thousand years; listening to the distant sounds of All Hollow’s Eve festivities around them outside their windows in Imperial City, while the pumpkin lights shone down on them. Eventually they fell asleep in each other’s arms; wrapped in black velvet and bathed in the light of their stars.  

[babygirlgiles]

High School AU (with trans!Erwin) commissioned by the lovely @kittyboo8015​. ~6k, also on ao3.

I’m still taking commissions to help pay for top surgery so message me or check out my post here!

Levi realizes he hates recess about a week into 1st grade at his new school. The bigger kids tease him constantly, and almost all the other kids are bigger than him. They call him stupid because of the way he talks, because of how slowly he reads, call him a cry baby because he begs the teachers to take him away from Kenny and back home to his mom in Iowa. They make fun of the rip in his favorite tee shirt, the orange one with sharks and Chomp, Chomp, Chomp! screen printed across the orange fabric.

The few that don’t tease him, won’t let him play. That hurts his feelings even worse.

“Sorry,” a red headed boy tells him one afternoon, toeing the pea gravel beneath his light-up Sketchers. “My dad said I can’t play with you.”

Levi looks down at his own velcro shoes, one strap missing and the others fraying. “Why not?” he asks.

“My mom says you give people hair bugs!” his friend, a second grader with oversized glasses, screams loud enough for the whole playground to hear.

“Let me play with you,” Levi growls, fists clenched. The red head knocks Levi to the ground with a hard shove, the sounds of his Get away from us, weirdo! mixing with the teacher’s indignant Hey! and Levi scrambles to his feet, nearly trips over himself as he runs to his hiding spot under the slide. It’s a small spot, even for him, his only refuge among too tall playground equipment and too tall kids.

He’s still picking rocks out of his palms when his hiding spot get a visitor.

“Leave me alone,” Levi mumbles, focusing on his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a pair of feet in white sandals, complete with plastic flowers on the top, shift back and forth.

“They shouldn’t make fun of you like that,” the visitor says. “It’s mean.”

Levi shrugs.

“They’re mean, so you can play with me,” the visitor declares triumphantly. Levi looks up, sees blonde hair and a unicorn patterned dress and frowns.

“I only like to play soldiers.”

“I like to play soldiers too!” the visitor exclaims, voice shrill with excitement. Before Levi can say no the visitor is reaching for his hand, tugging him up and out from under the slide.

“Can I be the General? Or wait no, a Commander! What’s your name?” the other kid says in a steady stream, words running together in the buzz of enthusiasm. Levi’s eyes widen, caught between intense suspicion and nearly overwhelming happiness. Hardly anyone’s paid him any attention since the man from the government dropped him off at his uncle’s house in Indiana.

“I’m Levi,” he says.

“Levi,” the other kid repeats, “Would you like to be my Captain?”

Growing up in small town Idaho is boring, as far as Levi’s concerned. Not that he’s ever known anywhere else, not since he was taken to Kenny when he was 6, but he’s convinced the town only exists because there’s a highway interchange nearby. During the week he goes to school, studies hard because he’s not really into the idea of stacking snowglobes in the tacky tourist shop downtown for the rest of his life. On the weekends he sits with Farlan and Isabel and Petra on the back steps of the library, smoking cigarettes and talking boys because Levi and Farlan are the only gay guys their town has ever known according to everyone.

It’s easy for Levi to recognize that something is different the second Isabel sits down at their regular table in the cafeteria, a couple months after school started. He doesn’t even have time to wonder what’s up because Isabel’s launched into a full blown explanation before her tray has even hit the table.

“There’s a new kid in my art class, came from New York City, draws so good and-”

“She almost makes me wish I was straight,” Farlan drawls, setting his tray down next to Isabel.

“He,” Petra enunciates, putting a dark red lunch box down next to Levi.

“Huh?” Levi grunts around a mouthful of cheese sandwich. He swats Isabel’s hand away as she tries to steal the cookie off his tray, ignoring her disappointed whine. Junior year sucks but at least it means that Isabel finally gets to be in high school with him, even if she’s always trying to steal his dessert.

“He,” Petra repeats, “Is in my psychology class. His name is Erwin and the teacher read off his, you know, old name and…” she trails off and everyone at the table gives her their own look of confused silence. Blush rises on her cheeks, quick as always. “He’s, you know-”

“There she is!” Isabel yells, pointing at the far door to the cafeteria.

“He,” Petra sighs in exasperation but everyone’s eyes are on Erwin.

Levi thinks maybe he knows Erwin from somewhere but that thought flies out the window before it can gain any traction because damn. Farlan is right. Erwin is tall and blonde and well dressed compared to most of the pajama clad teens dotting the tables. He’s wearing a green and black button down that shows off toned arms that Levi wants around him, jeans that hug his ass in all the right ways and Levi wants to sink down to his knees and nuzzle his face into that dark denim, undo the zipper and-- and do what? He’s never liked anyone with a-

“Who saddled the poor sucker with Armin?” Farlan asks, interrupting his train of thought. No one gets the chance to answer because, from the corner they’ve all affectionately titled Douche Land, some guy in basketball shorts and a bro tank yells,

“Hey fag!”

Armin freezes, eyes wide and Erwin stops too, looking calm but not sure where else to go. Everyone at his table turns to look at Levi.

“Yeah, I got it,” he grumbles, wrapping his sandwich back up haphazardly before standing. “Fucking basketball shorts,” he mutters as he makes his way over, “It’s fucking October.”

The cafeteria is the quietest Levi’s ever heard it in the three years he’s been having lunch there. Their town is a sleepy one,  after all, tucked away in the middle of some farm lands. Someone has their phone out and Levi rolls his eyes at the thought that this will all probably be on Instagram before 5th period starts.

“You think you’re a guy?” Basketball Shorts asks, approaching Armin and Erwin with a group of his clones backing him up.

“I am a guy,” Erwin says. It sounds like something he’s had to remind people a thousand times and Levi thinks that’s pretty fucked up.

“That’s a shame,” one of the cronies shouts from the back of the group. “I bet you’re real slutty when you spread those legs-”

“Alright, back the fuck off,” Levi demands, shoving his way in between Basketball Shorts and the other two. That Instagram won’t have anything to show besides him beating up some dudebros, he’ll make sure of that.

“Oh no,” Basketball Shorts fake whines, “Head fag here to protect his fag babies?”

The other boys howl in laughter.

“Okay, Chad-” Levi says.

“My name is-”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what your name is,” Levi interrupts. “Why don’t you take your butt buddies back to your little corner and compare gains or some shit.”

“You think I’m scared of you?” Shorts asks, moving towards Levi until their chests touch. “You think I’m scared of some little cock sucker like you?”

“I knew you were dumb,” Levi says, pushing right back.  “But even an animal can remember an ass beating.”

Shorts pauses, clearly remembering the last time he decided to mess with Levi. A second’s hesitation, a hush among his cronies, and it’s just enough for Levi seize onto. He pushes Shorts hard.

“Fuck off,” he snarls. The lunchroom roars and Levi turns away with the satisfaction that he’ll be the subject of any posts tonight, not Erwin or Armin. Isabel and Farlan might be the loudest of them all, chanting Levi’s name and pounding the table until they spot one of the lunch ladies coming out from behind the counter to tell them all to shut up. Levi sees her severe frown and decides he should probably get back to his sandwich.

“Oh my gosh.” Armin pants falling into step behind Levi. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done. Thank you, they’re just so-”

“Do you want to eat with us?” Levi interrupts, saving Armin from his own frantic rambling.

“No, no, um, thank you but I’ve got-” he nods towards another table and Levi recognizes the doctor’s son, the one always getting into fights, and his adopted sister, probably the only Asian kid in the entire county.

“Knock yourself out,” he says as Armin bustles away. He turns to look at Erwin, still rooted to his spot. “You coming?”

Erwin smiles and it looks so familiar. It looks like home.

“So, Levi,” Farlan says, poking his head between the driver and passenger seats, “Are you more of a driving gay or a cooking gay?”

It’s the Thursday before Thanksgiving break and Levi’s driving Farlan and Isabel home before he drives Erwin to his first meeting of a transgender support group. Over the past month Erwin has eaten with them everyday and it makes Levi ache in a way he’s not familiar with, with a nostalgia he can’t place because even though he’s sure he’s seen Erwin somewhere before, that just doesn’t make sense. Levi knows he’d sure as hell remember meeting a trans guy in their town.

Levi buries his feelings of longing by telling himself that plenty of people hold their shoulders that way, furrow their brows like Erwin does. Plus, the timeline wouldn’t make any sense either. Erwin’s parents are divorced so he grew up with his dad in New York City. He’s only moved here to Idaho because his dad took an assignment abroad and wanted Erwin to stay in the US with his mom.

“See Levi here,” Farlan says, poking Levi on the face and getting a stop that shit in return. “Is the driving gay. Got this lovely hunk of shit when his uncle’s boyfriend Uri died. Now he’s basically my chauffeur-”

“You fucking wish.”

“-except a lot more annoying.”

Erwin shakes his head, laughing. “I like to cook.”

Farlan hums. “Seem like you two will be the perfect couple then.”

Levi covers a choke with a cough and he’s surprised he doesn’t swerve off the road. He thinks about all the incognito windows he’s been using lately, the books he’s checked out from the library in the next town over under a fake name, the calculus test he did shit on because he’s been reading advice blogs and watching trans guys on YouTube, been trying to figure what the fuck he’s feeling because he was basically sure about being gay.

“What can you cook?” Isabel says, poking her head up next to Farlan’s.

“Both of you, sit back and put your seatbelts on,” Levi snaps.

“Can you make lasagna?”

“Three different kinds,” Erwin says, conspiratorial. Levi jerks his car the shoulder and throws it into park with a sudden lurch.

“Alright, this is your stop,” he says. He needs them out of the car, needs some goddamn peace and quiet, anything to stop the you two will make a perfect couple buzzing in his head.

“But Levi,” Farlan whines, “It’ll take us like an hour to walk home from here.”

“Then you better get going,” Levi says. The others grumble and slam the doors as they leave and Levi regrets kicking them out the second he peels away from the curb. He had no idea that being alone with Erwin would be so much worse, make him ache so deeply for something he’s sure he never had in the past, for something he’s sure he can’t have in the future.

They spend the rest of the ride in almost complete silence and Levi’s head drums to the beat of you two will make a perfect couple. Erwin twists and untwists his fingers in his lap and Levi knows what must be under the seam of his khakis so he tries his best to drown out the banging with his own mantra of I’m gay, I’m gay.

“Google says it’s right up here.” Erwin finally points to a house turned storefront with a huge rainbow flag.

“Pretty inconspicuous, huh-”

“I’d cook for you,” Erwin says in a rush. “If you wanted me to.”

Levi slows the car down, pulling into a parking space a half block down. Out front, there are some other people their age, some milling around the lawn, others rushing inside or greeting friends with excitement. He’d never met any other people like Erwin but he guesses that some of them look so- so normal, that he’d never really be able to tell. Levi watches them and he can’t seem to find any words through the pounding rhythm of his thoughts, wouldn’t be able to force them out around the depth of his aching anyway.

“I’ll, um, see you at school tomorrow then,” Erwin says. He unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door before Levi finally blurts out,

“I’d like that.”

Erwin pauses, frozen halfway out of the car.

“I mean that I’d-” Levi interrupts himself with a sigh, runs his hand through his hair. “I’d like it if you cooked for me.”

“Alright.” Erwin beams. “I’ll text you then?”

“Yeah, and um.” Levi gestures vaguely at the house. “Good luck or whatever.”

Erwin nods with a quick thanks and just like that he’s running to greet complete strangers like they’ve been friends for years. Levi watches him for a second before pulling back onto the road. He spends the whole drive home wondering why he can’t stop thinking about the girl he used to play soldiers with when he hasn’t thought of her in years.

A couple weeks later, Farlan texts Levi on a Friday after school, saying Isabel’s cousin’s neighbor offered to buy them some beers.

If u get Petra to go on a date with him, the text reads. Levi doesn’t see the text until hours later since he’s been stacking cans at the grocery store since school ended. He rolls his eyes the second he sees it.

Petra hates Oluo, he sends. He pockets his phone, ashing his cigarette in the 10 gallon bucket the manager leaves outside the service entrance. It vibrates again almost immediately.

Yeah but he doesn’t know that.

Levi huffs a laugh, sends back a quick fine as long as you keep the vultures out, remembering the time some jackass’s from the next town over decided to crash Isabel’s birthday party and got so rowdy the neighbors called the cops.

It's sometime after 1am after he finally pulls up to the house. There's some new shift manager working Friday nights and who kept him almost an hour after the Target closed because he couldn't understand how to close out a fucking register.

He knows there's something wrong when he has to park almost a quarter mile way and it only gets worse as he walks up. There's people out on the lawn, for Christ’s sake.

“Fucking vultures,” he mutters to himself, crushing his cigarette butt beneath his foot. “Farlan!” he yells, as he approaches the house, pushing strangers. “Fuck outta my way. Farlan!”

“Hey, Levi,” Farlan drawls, slinking out of a wobbly group to throw an arm around Levi's shoulder. He’s blasted but apparently everyone else is too.

“What the fuck, Farlan,” Levi hisses. “I said no vultures.

“It’s just a few friends!”

“Where’s Kenny? He’s gonna beat the shit out of us.”

Farlan waves his hand vaguely. “Psh, he went to the bar. Don’t worry, Levi, have a drink, you need to relax.”

Levi bristles. He thinks about all the creative ways he's going to get back at Farlan for this but then he remembers who's farlan is as a person, constantly stressed and unable to say no, and decides that he should have known this would have happened.

“Farlan-” he sighs.

“Levi!” It’s Erwin, standing on the front porch, looking pretty lucid but his hair is mussed and there’s blush high on his cheeks and it does things to Levi’s blood flow. He waves and Erwin rushes over, stumbling just a little bit, and pulls Levi into a hug. Levi wonders if he imagined Erwin sighing into his shoulder.

Something about Erwin’s familiarity, his easy affection and the way he just seems to know Levi, loosens something in Levi's chest and the night goes better from there on out. Kenny really is at a bar, hasn't been back much in days as far as Levi knows, but he still feels weird drinking when there’s so many opportunities for strangers to destroy the few shoddy possessions him, Kenny, Farlan, and Isabel have so he stays sober and he's surprised that he actually has fun.

Isabel makes a toast, To the best big brother!, before she does a tequila shot with Erwin. Farlan accumulates a small audience of swooning girls as he describes in lurid detail the brief and tumultuous romance he had with some boy the summer social services caught up to them and sent him to some foster home near Boise. He carefully leaves out the fact that their “romance” only entailed Farlan giving some man almost twice his age a quick blowjob in a TJ Maxx bathroom but Levi isn’t going to ruin his fun. Even Erwin seems to be enjoying himself, slipping upstairs with some boy Levi’s never seen before. The sight tangles Levi’s stomach in knots and he feels sick at the thought of someone else tumbling into Levi’s bed with Erwin, of someone else’s fingers in Erwin’s hair, someone else’s lips on Erwin’s or someone else stroking Erwin’s neck and collarbones, someone else pulling off his binder and licking his nipples or pulling down his boxers and-.

Levi’s surprised to find that for the first time he’s so turned on, so fucking into the idea of Erwin as a friend and maybe as a lot more, that he doesn’t give a fuck what’s under Erwin’s boxers.

“Shit,” he mumbles, standing and quickly making his way upstairs to the bathroom, ignoring Petra’s calls of what’s wrong. He’s not sure if he needs a second to quietly freak out or to jack off but either way he needs privacy now.

The bathroom is quieter. He can still hear the sounds of chatter and music from downstairs but even at a distance it still thrums too loudly for him to want to return. Something about being with Erwin, about knowing and being known, makes things that are normally too shitty a lot more tolerable. But without Erwin, Levi can only think to sit on the toilet seat and wait until someone kicks him out of decides to piss in the hallway.

He’s still sitting on the toilet seat with his head in his hands when he hears the voices coming from Levi and Farlan’s shared bedroom.

“Hey, um,” the voice says. Someone else replies but the voice is too low of a rumble and Levi can't make out the words.

“No,” the original voice says. “I think I’m gonna head back downstairs now.”

It’s Erwin.

“Come on, you made me so hard, don’t be a tease-”

Levi knows what happens in moments like these. He knows what fucks do when they say shit like that. But not in his house. Not if he has any fucking say in it.

He throws his bedroom door open before he's even realized that he's left the bathroom. “Get the fuck off him,” he growls.

Erwin’s sitting on Farlan’s bed, a greasy looking fuck wearing jeans and a John Deere tee shirt standing between his legs. John Deere looks at Levi, then at where he’s crushing Erwin’s wrists, then laughs.

“Him?” John Deere says. “I guess she’s kinda ugly but he-?”

Levi lunges across the small length of his room, grabbing John Deere by the collar and throwing him up against the wall of their small room with such force it rips the Depeche Mode poster behind him. Not in his house.

“You’re gonna get the fuck out, right now,” Levi snarls.

“Who the fuck-?”

Levi throws a punch that connects directly with his cheekbone. John Deere howls.

“And if I ever see you anywhere,” he shakes the boy for emphasis, “Near me or any of my friends ever again, you’ll fucking regret it.”

Levi throws the boy towards the door with a hard shove and he waits for the scrambling footsteps down the stairs but he let go of that tension, that desire to hurt. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a deep sigh, but he doesn’t really return to his body until he hears Erwin sniff.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Erwin are you okay?” The other boy is still sitting on the bed, head in his hands like Levi just moments ago and suddenly Levi feels wrong for ever having the thoughts that drove him to the bathroom in the first place.

Erwin shakes his head, mumbles “I’m fine,” between his fingers.

“Erwin, did he hurt you?” Levi asks. It's hard to keep his voice steady. He's so afraid that his knees will buckle that he sits down next to Erwin. Erwin just keeps shaking his head. “I need to know, did he-?”

“Yes!” Erwin rasps shoving his wrist in Levi’s face, narrowly missing his nose, so he can see the red finger-shaped welts forming on the skin. “Yes, he hurt me. But not like that, okay?”

Just as quickly he collapses. He curls into a heap in Levi’s lap. He’s mumbling something but it's so distorted by sobs Levi can only catch tidbits- something about his mom and his dad and missing New York and wanting to be a guy, a real guy, like Levi and Levi himself isn’t sure what to say so he runs his fingers through Erwin’s hair and shushes him with whatever comes to mind.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles though his thoughts are far away, swirling around the kind smiles that Erwin gives him, the one that's so personal and too familiar, the time he didn’t get there quick enough to help Isabel, the nighttime skyline of New York. “I know you and you’re more real than any asshole like that, okay? You’re handsome and you’re smart and-”

“I think I’m gonna vomit,” Erwin interrupts. His voice is heavy with tequila shots and tears. Levi ushers him downstairs and outside but they’re not quick enough and he falls to his hands and knees and empties the contents of his stomach on Levi’s front porch. The few other’s outside all yell a cheer of Oh!. Erwin groans.

“Come on, I’m gonna take you home,” Levi says, trying to coax Erwin to standing.

Erwin groans again. “No, no home.”

“You need to sleep this off okay,” Levi says.

“No home,” Erwin repeats. Levi pulls him up to standing and starts to guide him to the car. “No!” Erwin yells, breaking free of Levi’s grip and stumbling back to the house.

“Fine, just stop!” Levi shouts back. “Where do you want to go then?”

Levi’s convinced that Denny’s at 3am is a liminal space. Something about the empty dining room, the fluorescent lights, and the 80’s pop music makes Levi think they’re not really on earth anymore. But all in all, it wasn’t a bad choice; after a few glasses of water, a plate of fried eggs and toast, and a cup of black coffee that he stole from Levi, Erwin finally seems to be perking up.

“My mom made me stop T,” he says. He takes a piece of french toast from Levi and uses it to mop up the egg yolk on his plate.

“What?”

Erwin is a talkative drunk, that’s for sure. He washes down his eggy French toast with a long drink of ice water then repeats himself. It’s the first substantial thing Levi has ever said about his mom even though they’ve known each other months

“Yeah, I heard you but,” Levi pauses but decides that 3am isn’t a time for diplomacy. “But why the fuck would she do that?”

Erwin shrugs. “She keeps saying she’ll take me back to the doctor to get a refill but…” he shrugs again. “She used to say that I was too young to know what I wanted to do with my body permanently but I was living with my dad so he let me go on T for almost 7 months before I moved but I haven’t had any since and now my period started again,” Erwin waves with his water glass. Tears fill his eyes. “And that’s probably why I got so messed up that I let that-”

“Hey,” Levi cuts Erwin off, putting a hand on top his. He expects the touch to bring back the memories from the bathroom but instead all he feels is the intense need to comfort. “It’s not your fault. None of it is.”

Erwin shrugs yet again but turns his hand to hold Levi’s.

“Can’t your dad help?”

“There’s only so much he can do without my mom,” Erwin says miserably. “He was helping me get my legal name changed. I could go to school as Erwin and apply to college as Erwin but my mom stopped him. She wouldn’t sign the paperwork and you need both parents to sign if you’re under 18.”

Levi squeezes his hand in reassurance. Erwin takes a shuddering breath, his eyes tracing the speckled linoleum table top like he's counting stars. He says, like it's a bone deep truth,

“She's right to hate me. I took a lot away from her.”

He's wrong and Levi knows it. But he also knows that a drunken argument at Denny's won't do anything to take away that hurt. Levi moves his hand up to Erwin’s wrist, rubs his thumb over the already forming bruises, and knows that as long as Erwin will let him, he’ll never let go.

Erwin takes his other hand and puts it on top of Levi’s.

“Stay at my house tonight.”

Erwin nods. He stays.

Levi thinks that Erwin wants things to be awkward between them after that disastrous party but Levi won’t let it be. He drove them back to Kenny’s house while Erwin slept against the window before piling them into bed, making sure Erwin took off his binder before sleeping. They spooned to fit on Levi’s twin sized mattress and pointedly ignored Farlan’s knowing looks the next morning. Erwin says he got in a bit of trouble for staying out way past curfew but whatever the punishment he doesn’t really seem to care.

“Nothing I don't deserve,” Erwin says when Levi asks. His guilt seems seems so old Levi’s swears he remembers it from long before they even met.

After that, Erwin doesn’t get drunk again but the touching doesn’t stop anyway. They snuggle on the couch as they read books for school and for fun, hold each other during movies, casual touches during class or at lunch. Levi thinks a lot about asking Erwin to be his boyfriend.

On a Saturday after New Year’s Day, the weekend before school starts back up, Levi wakes up to a text from Erwin, asking him if he wants to come over later so Erwin can make dinner. It’s late in the day, already past noon, and the text brings back dreams from the night before- the sight of soft flesh and flushed cheeks, the sounds of his and Erwin’s pleasure, the stiffness he woke up with between his legs. He blushes hard, glad he’s alone, and sends Erwin a text asking when?. He makes sure he can still hear the sounds of Farlan and Isabel yelling at Fortnite downstairs before he reaches into his boxers and thinks of Erwin.

The sun is already dipping behind the horizon when Levi rings the doorbell to Erwin’s house. He pulls his jacket tighter to him as he waits. It’s new-ish, as far as his clothes go, but he hates the cold no matter what he’s wearing and something about the sun going down before 5pm just seems wrong.

It feels like he’s been shivering on the whitewashed porch forever by the time a tall blonde woman swings open the door. “Oh, you must be Grace’s friend!” She exclaims. Levi stares at her in confusion, checks the house number next again, then looks back at her. She looks a lot like Erwin, he must be in the right place, but who the fuck is Grace?

“I’ve got it, mom,” Erwin says as he trots up, pushing in front of his mom.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, putting a hand on Erwin’s head. He’s almost her height and fuck they’re both giants. “I meant you must be Erwin’s friend. Levi, right? I’m Jennifer.”

Levi shakes her hand, dazed.

Jennifer steps aside to let him into the house. Even the entryway is nice, looks new and clean. It makes Levi tugs at the hem of his polo shirt, the green one Kenny had bought for him last winter, the one and only time they drove to the city for temple. He almost wishes he’d tucked it in to hide the hole he’d accidentally burnt with a cigarette near the bottom.

“Erwin’s been in the kitchen all day, I’m so excited to see what she’s cooked up,” Jennifer says over her shoulder as she pads barefoot down the carpet hallway. Erwin stays rooted to his place, eyes glassy. Levi stays with him.

“Mom,” he mutters. “Can you go check on the oven please?”

“Of course” She exclaims. “I’ll just leave you two alone.”

Erwin groans as soon as she’s turned the corner.

“It’s fine,” Levi says immediately. “I know who you are, okay?”

“I know,” Erwin says. He draws Levi into a hug, arms around each others’ waists. Levi rests his head on Erwin’s chest instinctively. “Levi, I-”

“Erwin!” his mom calls from the kitchen. “The timer just went off, should I take them out?”

“No, don’t touch it, I’ll be right there!” Erwin shouts back, untangling their arms. He places a kiss on Levi’s head almost as an afterthought. Levi feels blush rise to his cheeks.

“I, um,” Erwin says, clearing his throat. “I hope you like spinach souffle.”

Levi stammers out a quick I’ve never had souffle but he can still feel those lips on his forehead and those arms around his waist, and the burn of such easy, tender affection makes him slack jawed and still.

When he finally follows the sounds of the others to the dining room, Levi’s finds his spot set with a placemat. A placemat. Levi’s not even sure if he’s ever seen one that’s not paper and decorated with the Chinese Zodiac. Erwin pulls out the chair for Levi, and Levi sits with a murmur of holy shit, both their faces flushed with deep blush.

“This looks good” Levi says as Erwin serves him on a plate garnished with parsley. He's even decorate the table with a couple small candles a bouquet of flowers Levi can’t name.

As they eat, they share a comfortable back and forth as they catch up on the details of their breaks. Erwin asks about Farlan and Isabel and Hanukkah before Levi has to explain he actually celebrates Christmas and it was good, he got a stuffed koala from Isabel and a watch from Farlan. Levi asks about the dinner Erwin had with his gender support group for people who don’t have families to celebrate the holidays with, about Erwin’s trip to visit his best friend Mike in New York. Erwin smiles so brightly it warms the cool wintery room.

“So, Levi,” Jennifer says the second there’s a lull in the conversation. “You go to school with Grace?”

Erwin tenses up instantly and Levi wonders what it would be like to be so thoroughly shut out of his life, to have to watch someone so incredible from a distance. He would almost feel bad if she hadn’t done this to herself.

Levi crosses his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I’m in Erwin’s grade.”

“Oh, I meant-”

“May we be excused?” Erwin interrupts. His chair scrapes across the floor as he stands and his eyes widen at the sound.

“Of course, sweetie,” Jennifer says with a barbed smile. “You’re the host.” But he’s already out of the room. Levi glances at her quickly before he follows Erwin back to the kitchen.

Erwin is dipping a mixing bowl into the sink’s soapy water gingerly, and though Erwin is turned away from him, Levi can see grief etched into the slump of his shoulders.

“Erwin,” Levi says. He says nothing, and halfassedly sponges at a cutting board with a deep sigh. “Erwin,” he repeats.

“I’m sorry.” He finally turns to look at Levi. There are tears in his eyes but they cannot hide the devotion that Levi himself feels too. Levi thinks about the shame Erwin always tries his best to hide when someone calls him a girl, thinks about enduring that every time he’s home, and realizes that no matter how shitty things can be with Kenny, it could probably never be that bad.

“I’m sorry, I just-” Erwin cuts himself off with a sigh.

“I know you,” Levi whispers from across the kitchen.

Erwin leans limply against the countertop and put his head in his hands. “No you don’t,” he mutters.

“I know you,” he repeats. He goes to the counter and grabs Erwin’s hand, but with Erwin hurting it’s still not enough to reassure Levi that he’s whole. He pulls Erwin in so close their hips are flush.

“I know you too,” Erwin says. The words lodge themselves firmly in Levi’s throat and he leans further into the touch, presses his cheek to Erwin’s chest. His skin feels flushed even through his button down.

“I mean, uh.” Levi can feel Erwin shift on his feet. “I really do know you. My family lived here together until I started third grade.”

He’s about to protest because he doesn’t remember but then he does-- the little blonde kid who came to find him under the slide, who protected him from bullies for a couple years, who’s been on his mind almost a decade later for seemingly no reason. The kind smiles and furrowed brow and eyes that spoke of guilt for things not yet done, for things that should hold no guilt in the first place. The only kid who would play with him. His friend. His Commander. “Grace,” he whispers breathily. “You were that Grace?”

Erwin smirks and shrugs. “I know you know all about-” Erwin gestures vaguely at himself. “But it’s still weird that you used to think I was a girl.”

“Erwin, I-” Levi stutters. For a second Erwin face falls into disappointment and Levi hates that, hates that Erwin could ever think-.

He pushes his lips against Erwin’s in haste. It’s graceless and clumsy and a little too forcefulbut pressed up against Erwin he feels breathless with joy.

“All of you,” he pants against Erwin’s lips. “I want to know all of you, Erwin, because I-”

Erwin kisses him and fuck. Erwin knows him, knows all the things that Levi can’t say. His kisses are shy and gentle but full of such sincerity it’s like he’s teaching Levi secrets.

Erwin pulls away and they both gasp in time with the drip-drop of the leaky kitchen sink.

“Me too,” he breathes. “Me too.”

[todisturbtheuniverse]

so i inexplicably dove into reading New Canon sometime at the end of last year. it was Leia that really kicked it off. i’d been reading various books as they appealed to me--The Force Awakens and Rogue One novelizations about when they came out, A New Dawn right after Rebels wrapped up, Dark Disciple because Thom was like, “you’re going to like this for x, y, and z reasons and be mad at it for a very big reason.” (and boy was he correct.) after reading Leia i decided, okay, fine, clearly we’re rebooting that time when i was 13 years old and scouring the Barnes and Noble for all the EU books i could find, let’s fucking do this proper.

and damn. it was worth it to get to Thrawn. more blathering, not at all cohesive, and containing spoilers and references to various New Canon books ahead...

my huge hesitance about doing New Canon proper was the, uh. glut of Empire-POV books that i saw on our shelf. (we’ve been buying them for a good six-eight months now to make sure they were all available to us whenever we wanted to dive in.) there was something unnerving about that. i got hit with Lords of the Sith and Tarkin pretty much at the outset of my little jaunt, which was rough at times.

i’m of two minds about these books. i mean, 1) i am definitely interested in anything that gives us more of a look about Vader’s headspace post-lava incident, however narrow. The Clone Wars sold me on Anakin Skywalker in a way no movie has ever managed to, both in making him more interesting and likeable to me and in making his fall seem so much more plausible (don’t get me started on how i would restructure the prequels). so getting a look behind that weird faceplate--finally--is bloody and Very Bad but also interesting. he remembers Ahsoka in Lords of the Sith. he remembers Rex. he thinks on these things, as if he can’t stop himself.

but 2) there’s only so much, ah. rooting. that you can do for the Empire. obviously. i think i’m safe in assuming that’s not the point of these books (and indeed Lords of the Sith gives us a nice look at the early Free Ryloth movement to root for and a truly absurd goal for them to accomplish, so there’s that), but i find myself wondering what the point of these books are. for all that Tarkin cut such an imposing figure (and still does, definitely) my cynicism can’t let me believe that he was more than a good plot tool rather than a particularly complex character--i doubt all this stuff about Tarkin’s backstory, which comes up in the novel, was ever in Lucas’s dizziest daydreams. but i sure got treated to a lot of Weird Tarkin Backstory in Tarkin. is it necessary? is it relevant? i’m having a hard time figuring out how.

but again, the bit of fun i had with this book? it was in Tarkin’s interactions with Vader. specifically his musing on the identity of the creepy fellow in the weird armor, who certainly shares some qualities with Anakin Skywalker. The Clone Wars revealed that Anakin had actually known Tarkin, before the fun trip to the lava seaside. it stands to reason that Tarkin, who at the very least was hailed as Scary As Shit and Good At His Job at the time of the original trilogy, would put some clues together.

so that’s...interesting. maybe its own purpose was to be interesting, idk. i’m probably overthinking what is clearly an enormous cash grab by Disney, or something.

all this to say: this was the kind of Empire-POV stuff i was having a hard time thinking i could get into. because they’re just Evil doing Evil. Vader might think about Ahsoka on rare occasion but he’s not going to stop force-choking people because of it. that redemption ship doesn’t come into harbor for a fair bit.

and then. we get Thrawn.

as i mentioned way up there, there was a time after i’d first discovered Star Wars that i perused high and low for the Extra Content. i think one of the first things i came across (bearing in mind that the EU was not supremely organized or continuous or anything) was the Thrawn trilogy. being that this was nearly fifteen years ago and i haven’t reread them since, all i really remember is that Mara Jade is The Best, Thrawn was a villain like no other villain my child self had come across, and i loved them. a reread is probably in order and will maybe disappoint me, or so i always thought, until Timothy Zahn threw Thrawn and Alliances at me and said, take that, i’ve still got it.

Thrawn sort of gets into some of the same traps as Tarkin, except that they felt way less like traps because i was interested in how Thrawn comes to be part of the Empire. that was always part of what made him interesting, to me; he’s somehow a Grand Admiral, has risen through all those ranks, even though he’s not human. so even though we take these little leaps of backstory through years of Thrawn’s early existence in Imperial space, and it feels like we take a lot of time to catch up to the actual plot--it’s neat as hell, because we’re seeing the Empire through the eyes of not one, but two people who are outsiders to it. and yet, simultaneously have to exist inside it.

it’s so easy to generalize the Empire as this grayish blob of evil. many of the random crew and deck officers in Rebels don’t even have distinguishing facial features; i’ve heard Liam O’Brien’s voice come out of an awful lot of them, with the brims of their caps pulled low over their eyes, their faces cast in an odd grayish light that seems to wash the life from them.

it is evil. it is definitely, definitely evil. but there are so many people in it--people like Eli Vanto, the second individual referenced above--who are just existing in it, trying to make the best of it, because they have no real options (or power) to do anything else. some of these people Get Out and join the rebellion, or just Get Out and vanish, but not many of them have the resources to do that, and that’s the look that, to me, gives this grayish obelisk of evil some kind of complexity worth looking at.

and then Alliances. the neat past-present switch that juxtaposes Anakin/Vader, Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Thrawn. i loved that shit. it showed more new stuff about Vader, probably reminded me of all the reasons i was fascinated by Thrawn as a kid even if i can’t really remember, and best of all, delighted me with various instances of Thrawn just. flat out. trolling. Vader. and not dying. imagine! all these not-at-all-subtle hints that Thrawn knows exactly who Vader is under that mask and the entire book Vader just keeps thinking, no. even this asshole. this tactical genius. cannot possibly know my true identity. it’s impossible. The Jedi is dead. 

(that was another cool thing, btw. Zahn really took how Vader thinks and elevated the shit out of it. having him always refer to his past self as The Jedi was very effective.)

all these dueling loyalties come out to get real ugly on the surface: Thrawn, having sworn to serve the Empire, still manipulating the scene in whatever way he can to benefit his people. (how is Eli doing in the Chiss Ascendancy? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT TO FIND OUT.) Vader, recalling The Jedi’s past trouble with those dueling loyalties--to his people (the Jedi, the Republic) and to his people (Padme). having now decided that “even rescue” is, as Thrawn once said, not worth sacrificing victory.

but Vader’s loyalties are still in far more flux than he would let himself believe. because he is sure, on the one hand, that Thrawn is walking the line of treason. Thrawn throws every tool he has at this to get his way, to do things and have the outcome he wants, up to and including calling in a debt that Anakin Skywalker owes him--expecting Vader to repay it. and Vader, who has murdered people for far less, lets himself be talked into it, lets his curiosity string him along, lets the probing comments about “the last time we were here” and “we discovered this about cortosis” and all this we, we, WE that refers to The Jedi pass without incident.

all this to say: he sure wishes The Jedi was really dead. that would make his existence so much easier. and i’m probably reading into it, and all, but i think Thrawn and his weirdly opaque analytical mind sees that and is poking at it a-purpose. to what purpose, who can say? Thrawn’s always about a dozen steps ahead of everybody else, by design. he has a long game.

this is just a stream of consciousness ramble at this point about how many Thoughts i have about Star Wars, and it’s very late on a Friday night and i’m tired, so i’ll stop blathering on. TL;DR--i was wary of reading books from Imperial POVs and while not particularly gracefully done in some cases, they surprised me. there are some gems in there.

[sabrinaprotectionsquad-blog]

Au Yea August 9 - The Summer of our Discontent

@auyeahaugust

Day 9 - Summer camp

writing one fic per day? haha I’m sure I can do that, haha... well, still going strong anyway. Still having a lot of fun with the challenge anyway.

Alix and Sabrina are camp counselors. Alix finds herself annoyed that Sabrina's spending a lot of time pampering to the needs of some snot nosed bratty princess wannabe just because she yells loudly.

Link to Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/15631410

“BRINA! I WANT A JUICEBOX!” the squealing high pitched voice of a pampered 7 year old rang out into the cafeteria. Alix had gotten sick of hearing the little demon princess’ voice within the first half hour of her arrival, here on day 2 she felt like every utterance from the snot-nosed whelp was another nail into her skull.

Some children were rotten, spoiled little brats, Alix had known that when she signed up to be counselor, and honestly the black haired little runt wouldn’t bother her much if it wasn’t for Sabrina.  

The red headed girl’s attitude towards Chloé back home had always struck a nerve with Alix, always low-key annoyed her to see someone so utterly spineless following someone so blatantly heartless. However she’d always felt like it wasn’t her place to say anything, let the two idiots live in their strange little bubble for all she cared.

She’d been a little disappointed to meet the glasses wearing mouse as part of introductions to the camp. She’d hoped to get away from Chloé and the drama back home, not get closer to one of the common causes of said drama.

Her first conversation with Sabrina at camp had brought a glimmer of hope, “I think Chloé and I could use a few weeks apart.” She’d said smiling “It’s going to be really fun to be a counselor right? I’m glad there’s someone I know here, makes it a little less scary right?” It had given Alix hope that there was more to Sabrina than a lapdog, and for a few hours there had been.

The first few hours of the campers arriving had featured a smiling, welcoming and pedagogical Sabrina, the kind that would really help Alix take care of the rowdy runts and even seemed like she could possibly be fun to hang with.

That was until she arrived, Carmilla, a 7 year old who seemed to believe the world revolved around her to such an extend that her ego might actually have enough weight to create its own orbit. Her annoying high pitched voice had demanded immediate respect or retribution, and before Alix had gotten a chance to bury the girl’s face in the dirt, Sabrina had already started following the girls’ orders.

Alix felt her nails digging into her arms, watching Sabrina happily smiling as she offered another juicebox to the pouting princess. “I WANT APPLE!” she yapped, ignoring Sabrina’s assurance that they didn’t have more apple juice “I DON’T LIKE ORANGE!” she scowled, ignoring Sabrina’s attempts to bring to attention the empty orange juice box that she’d already drunk.

Sabrina stood up, looking around the cafeteria, she locked onto Alix, smiling and waving her over for some reason. It dawned on Alix that she herself was holding an unopened apple juice, having not had a chance to drink it since she had to pull double duty with the kids, since Sabrina had made caring for Carmilla a fulltime job.

Alix felt her blood fuming, that was the last straw. She stomped towards Sabrina, she stood in front of her with her arms crossed, in her head telling Sabrina not to dare say what she knew she was going to say.

“Carmilla wants apple juice but there isn’t any more, could she have yours?” Sabrina smiled at her innocently; the idiot really didn’t see her own idiocy, which just made her more idiotic.

Alix raised an eyebrow looking down at Carmilla, who was scowling at her, as though her only thought regarding Alix could be ‘why hasn’t the juice been transferred from you to me already!?’

Alix looked at Sabrina with as much of a resting bitch face as she could muster “no, we’re out, she’s gonna have to deal.”

Sabrina’s smile wavered “but I mean, you have one and…”

Alix poked the straw through the box, looking down into Carmilla’s confused eyes as she drank the juice, emptying the small carton quickly, then crushing it and letting it fall on the table in front of the devastated child.

Sabrina closed the door behind her, Carmilla’s loud wailing could be heard clearly through the door. Alix could clearly see that Sabrina wanted to get done with this quickly so she could go pamper and help the impossible little brat.

“I can’t believe you Alix! That was really immature!” Sabrina puffed herself up, her face red with anger and disappointment. It was strange seeing the mousey girl with something resembling righteous anger, refreshing even, but of course, incredibly misplaced.

“I’m immature? Right. What about you!? You pamper that little princess wannabe every hour of the day. You’re supposed to be a counselor, not a personal maid!”

Sabrina pouted “she needs a lot of help, you’re a bad counselor if you don’t wanna help the children.” She stated factually, childishly.

Alix snorted “she doesn’t need to be treated like that. You’re going to end up creating a little Chloé-clone. Is that what you want?”

Sabrina paused for a moment, her eyes showing a hint of weakness. “There’s… there’s nothing wrong with Chloé.”

Alix cocked an eyebrow at Sabrina who shrank a little, “you can’t honestly believe that right?”

Sabrina bit her lip “it’s complicated. Chloé’s actually really nice, she just has a hard time being open with people after her mom left. She’s better when it’s just the two of us, it’s taken a long time to build up that trust.”

Alix rolled her eyes “but why do you bother? You spend all your time trying to help someone who barely ever treats you nicely.”

Sabrina sighed, she looked down into the floor “it’s because… I guess I acted really shitty too for awhile after my mom…” she looked like she was going to start crying.

Shit Alix didn’t know what to do, she hadn’t expected things to go in this direction and crying people made her really uncomfortable. “um… there there?” she half heartedly patted Sabrina’s shoulder.

Sabrina snorted, smiling sadly at Alix “that’s the best you got? How did they make you a camp counselor? What are you going to do when a child’s upset, poke her with a stick?” Sabrina wiped a forming tear from her eye, smiling despite herself.

Alix thanked the heavens “hey fuck you I’m great with kids. They never cry long after I start beating them!” she smiled jokingly at Sabrina, more than happy to hear the orangehaired girl laugh at her crass joke.

“You’re terrible” she chuckled, pushing at Alix’ shoulder.

Alix chuckled back “now for that Carmilla girl” Alix found a large soup ladle, picking it up and testing it’s weight against her hand “I say we show her some tough love”

Sabrina shook her head smiling at the absurdity “you’d kill her for sure.”

Alix smiled cockily “even better! That way everyone’s happy!”

“Except for us, we’ll be caught for sure.” Sabrina crossed her arms, bringing her hand up to her chin, contemplating “although, maybe we can pin it on André, that snot-nosed punk tried to put gum in my hair. Two flies, one child murder.”

Alix’ eyes went wide, she smiled broadly “My God, the girl can be morbid, hallelujah.” She chuckled.

Sabrina looked suddenly embarrassed “no I mean… you started it…”

Alix cocked her head to the side and smiled “I don’t get you ‘Brina. You seem like you could be cool but you hold yourself back.”

Sabrina brushed her hair behind her ear, looking away. “No I couldn’t, shut up! You think cause you’re awesome it’s easy for others, but it’s just not. Some of us are just weird.”

Alix rolled her eyes “It’s gotta take real effort to say something so wrong in so little time.” She thought for a moment “except for me being awesome, you’re right about that, go ahead and say more of that.” She smirked.

Sabrina scoffed “yea right. Your ego’s already so large that if I started feeding it you might explode and take out the entire camp.”

Alix chuckled “please, if your words could overfill an ego then you’d be serving for Chloé’s murder.”

Sabrina laughed “I guess that’s true. But it really does help her. She needs love and support.”

Alix rolled her eyes “she needs a smack on the head! I get that she needs therapy but you’ve gotta be able to see that she needs some tough love, not constant pampering. Same with that brat in there! If you do everything for them they won’t be grateful, they’ll just take you for granted and demand more!”

Sabrina sighed deeply “so what do you want me to do? Ignore their cries for help?”

Alix shook her head “maybe split your focus a little. Carmilla doesn’t need all of your time, you could help the other kids more, and you could maybe help her by showing her that everyone can’t always drop everything because she wants a lollipop.”

Sabrina nodded thoughtfully “I… guess maybe that’s true… I can try.” She smiled “thanks Alix.”

Alix rubbed the back of her head “don’t go all mushy on me, I just hate when people don’t know they are being dumb. Let’s get back to the others aight?”

Sabrina nodded. As Alix turned towards the door she felt a hand on her shoulder “Alix wait um… there’s one thing…”

Alix turned around impatiently, imagining the third counselor who’d been tasked with keeping an eye on the dining children all alone for much too long. “what?”

Sabrina bit her lip, clearly struggling to get herself to say something which hung at the tip of her tongue. Alix sighed, putting a hand on Sabrina’s shoulder “hey, you can tell me, I won’t tell anyone, cause I’m 100 percent sure I won’t care.”

Sabrina scoffed, smiling at Alix’ comment, though her serious face didn’t fade, “I just… I wanted to know if you were gay.” Sabrina was looking away, a heavy blush on her face. It didn’t take a genius to read her intentions, and Alix was no genius!

Alix shook her head “I’m not.” But someone in here probably is.

“Oh…” Sabrina looked into the floor with clear disappointment. “I was just… curious like… with the hair and…”

Alix scoffed “right… anyway I’m not straight either. I’m like, nothing, I’m aroace. I’m not into that stuff at all.”

Sabrina took a moment to process, disappointment clearly plastered across her face.

Alix sighed “if it helps, if I was forced at gunpoint to choose I guess I’d rather date a girl than a boy.”

Sabrina looked up at her “really?”

She shrugged “they don’t smell as bad and they’re prettier to look at.”

Sabrina half-smiled at her, but Alix quickly shot her down with a scowl “don’t get any ideas though, as I said, I don’t do that mushy stuff, not any part of it, got it?”

Sabrina scoffed defensively “what? I mean… I was just curious you know? I wasn’t trying to hit on you or anything…!”

Alix looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a harsh expression, it didn’t take more than a second for Sabrina to crumble “don’t… don’t tell anyone…!”

Alix shrugged “I can’t imagine a world in which I would feel the need to tell anyone that you like girls. I’m not a gossip and I honestly, HONESTLY don’t care.”

Sabrina looked at Alix like she couldn’t believe that someone was just apathetic to her queerness. Alix could kind of understand, before she started being more open about it, she’d struggled a lot with her asexuality and aromanticism and what people might think.

Like Sabrina, she’d had to learn that it was a part of her, but it wasn’t actually a big deal to anyone else. That fact was both comforting and a little annoying, she’d been very ready to fight anyone who didn’t take her orientations seriously, but she’d yet to actually meet anyone who strictly opposed her, she had high hopes for a chance at kicking Chloé’s ass once she found out though.

“You can talk to me about it, being queer. I have some experience and I think I know more than you” Alix felt herself practically choking on her words, why couldn’t everyone just be stoic and cool like her, why was she inviting someone else to share their mushy feelings with her? Alix resisted the urge to audibly groan.

Sabrina’s eyes lit up, it was clear that she’d needed someone to talk to, someone to just not judge her. The girls smiled at one another, Sabrina’s blush giving Alix pause “ok but as long as we’re clear that we’re not going to date. This?” she pointed between the two of them “not happening. This” she pointed to herself “doesn’t date, ever.”

Sabrina chuckled “are you going to talk down to me and treat me like garbage?”

Alix’ head tilted to the side confused “what?! Of course not!”

Sabrina smiled sadly “then I don’t think you’re my type anyway.”

Alix’ shoulders dropped, “oh hell no” she found the words shot out of her mouth involuntarily. Still, the idea of Sabrina pining for Chloé who abused her so terribly immediately broke any of Alix’ apathy. She looked at Sabrina with a determined scowl “I’m getting you a girlfriend.”

Sabrina did a doubletake “wh… what?”

“I don’t care who, literally anyone would be better for you than Chloé and I’m going to find someone and you’ll date and you’ll be happy!” she growled.

“You uh… don’t have to do that…” Sabrina said defensively.

“Oh but I do, like it or not, you’re my friend now. And I take care of my friends. And you need a supportive girlfriend, someone who cares about you and who is NOT a blonde asshat. So I’ll find you one, if you like it or not!” Alix grit her teeth, her demanding tone easily breaking down Sabrina’s barricade.

Sabrina smiled at her nervously “… ok… ok yea!” her nervous smile slowly turned more confident. She leaned down and hugged Alix tightly “thank you. Friend.” She smiled happily.

Alix groaned, how did this keep happening to her!?