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hausofmamadas · 15 days

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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

Part 1

⁂

Pairing: Danny Lyon x Kathy Cross

Word count: ≈ 3.1K

TWS: Allusions to infidelity, love triangles, angst, civil disobedience, mentions of jail.

Notes: (ꔘ) indicates this comes directly from movie dialogue. SNCC = Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, a student-led Civil Rights activist group in that organized campus sit-ins, boycotts, and other civil disobedience campaigns in protest of segregation in the south throughout the 1960s.

He couldn’t figure why she didn’t kick him out after staying so long, why she’d let him carry on jabbering away about himself like that. 6mos documenting the lives of the Vandals, Danny Lyon’s got new colors, a promising book idea, and a lotta trouble ahead thanks to the highly inconvenient crush he’s got on Kathy Cross. As she’s progressively pushed aside by her husband, Benny’s allegiance to the club and his own personal code of lawlessness, she too finds solace in Danny, their shared half-in/half-out club status bringing the two closer than either bargained for. Forging a bond strong enough to jeopardize his journalistic objectivity and her marriage, the question now is when and where to draw the line.

⁂ “Yeah, so that’s when I punched’a guy. I mean he’s over here all apologizin to me and y’know– I mean jeez what kinda sissy ya gotta be to do a thing like dat?”

“But– okay, so,” Danny responds, squinting, face half-obscured by his Nikon F, “weren’t you the one who dented his car?”

With a lethargic nod, Frankie drags from the cigarette at one corner of his mouth and exhales out the other without disturbing its peace, like the cigarette was always there. Like he’d come out the womb with it right there.

“So, but–” Danny’s confusion, though audible, is still hidden behind the camera as his finger comes down, punching the shutter button and pulling the advance lever twice - punch then pull, punch then pull - grabbing a couple of shots before the vignette of smoke framing Frankie’s face dissipates. “So, why hit him? I mean, you’d already dented the guy’s ride, right?”

“Maaan,” Frankie waves his hand like he’s shooing away a meddlesome pigeon that won’t take no for an answer. “I just don’t got no patience fer those kindsa guys, y’know? I mean, yer not wrong. I’m the one who dented his car, right. But it’s like, then– So whats’a loony fuck apologizin to me fer? I’da respected him more if he’d gotten in my face er somethin, y’know. Least showed some spine. I promise, I know it sounds daft-backwards but it just really got my goat y’know, him apologizin like that.”

Danny can’t help chuckling at Frankie’s logic there, shoulders shaking as he drops the camera. It bobs against his chest drawing the strap taut around his neck while he reaches in his shirt pocket for a joint he’d rolled earlier. Smoke discharges in short, sharp gusts when he lights up because he’s still laughing, pretending like he can’t wrap his head around Frankie punching some guy after being the one to scratch his car. But if he’s honest, Frankie’s logic makes more sense to him than Danny cares to interrogate further just now. There’s a reason he’s on this side of the camera.

Frankie isn’t part of the main cast Danny’s been tagging along with, more a featured guest, a “now introducing” sort of fella. But Frankie’s just the same as the other guys Danny’s gotten to know in the sense that while Danny observed, Frankie didn’t observe him back much. That wasn’t like every job he’d had either. How many times had his subjects challenged him, flipped the script as it were, started giving to his take, that kind of thing. But the club guys were good like that. No one inspects him too closely. He’s as good as another barstool to these guys and they’re as good to each other in the same way.

Which in truth, after the last job, is a welcome relief. And since Danny’s not out to volunteer too much personal information about himself, certainly not all that had happened in his time with the SNCC before he came back to Chicago, he’s liable to slide on by, undetected. No waves, just pictures. Not like his time down south. The protests, the violence, the thin blue line that seemed to crush them from all sides, the hope, the fear, the stark reality in the voice of a promising, young black activist, no more than 18 or 19, from Montgomery; a voice that still rings in his ears like the kid’s there, right in front of Danny in that pool hall.

What’s it mean for you that our struggle’s what puts guys like you on the map? Will you remember us when you’re acceptin that Pulitzer? And if you do, will you say you remember out loud?

To this day, that chafes his ego, ruffles his feathers, the lens fixed on him like that, subjected to being a subject. Because Danny knows how right that kid really is. But as much as he hates it, he also knows the value of, every once in a while, being put in focus like that. Still, he squirms under that kind of scrutiny more than he’d care to admit, an ant under a magnifying glass with the added misfortune of being in the sun’s path. So yeah, it suits him just fine that the club guys don’t look so close. Well, except for the occasional scattered, out-of-nowhere but not entirely unprofound observations. Usually from Zipco.

Out of all the guys, Zipco has a way of taking Danny the most by surprise. Because even as Danny embodies much of what he rails against, Zipco, more than most people, has a surprising capacity to rethink some of the broad sweeping proclamations he’s always making. At first, he might cling to them like a drowning man to a life raft. Until, confronted by the opposition up close, he’d realize the pool he’s in is only waist-deep, at which point he’s forced to let the life raft go, dazed and confused as to why he was holding on so tight in the first place.

Like that time he was going on about pinkos and college boys and the navy, the first car show Danny went to.

…

Danny held the microphone out and away from him, arm extended toward Zipco, “Lookit dese pinko mothafuckers,”(ꔘ) who was moving around so much, Danny already knew the audio was going to be dogs hit no matter how much he messed with the levels. Sound quality doomed the moment they stepped foot outside because who tries getting good audio in an open field with some crappy, used reel-to-reel?

But Zipco was on a roll, “S’like my brudder,” so Danny let it ride. “Y’know my brudder? We swing the same way but only thing is he’s a pinko. There’s somethin in is head, is wrong, y’know? But when he gets drunk he’s just like me. Otherwise he thinks different.”(ꔘ)

“What do you mean by ‘he’s a pinko?’”(ꔘ) Danny asked, still fiddling with the knobs on the tape deck in the hopes he could level set enough so he wouldn’t have to hold the mic out so far. The muscles in his arm were already starting to cramp.

“Ey,” sidestepping the question entirely, Zipco launched into a separate interrogation, “ain’t you s’posed to be takin pictures?”(ꔘ)

“Yeah,” Danny replied coolly.

“So what you got the microphone for all’a time, then?”(ꔘ)

Danny broke focus from the recorder to look at Zipco, “I don’t know. I was thinkin,” pausing to slide his aviators up the bridge of his nose. “I could record people talkin maybe. Use it with’a pictures. Make a book or somethin maybe.”(ꔘ)

“A book, huh?”(ꔘ) Zipco examined him through narrowed eyes like that was the richest, most quaint thing he’d ever heard.

Unphased by the skepticism, Danny just nodded, “Yeah—”(ꔘ) voice trailing off, Zipco’s disbelief deemed either too small or too simple to be bothered by.

“Yeah.”

“—maybe.” Danny redirects the interview back to the original question, “So, what d’you mean by ‘he’s a pinko?’”(ꔘ)

“Pinko, uh y’know,” Zip shrugs, “college boy. Dey wear tennis shoes and short pants, y’know, shit like that.”(ꔘ)

“Uh-huh. And what’s your brother do?”(ꔘ)

“Ah, he’s in the Air Force. Goin to Thailand, next November. Air Force mechanic. Dey took him. Dey wouldn’t take me, y’know. Dey took him cause he’s a clean-cut, all-American boy. Y’know short pants n’ tennis shoes.”(ꔘ)

Danny was altogether unprepared for the nerve he’d struck or the ensuing monologue, as Zip became more and more impassioned.

“I told my brudder– he went to college. One year. I said,” Hand gripping the neck of the glass jug of wine Zipco always carted around with him, he pointed the bottle in accusation, like Danny was actually his brother, “‘Fucker, you don’t quit that college im’a beat da shit outta you!’ And he quit. Cause I tole him I don’t want no goddamn pinkos in my family. Cause I can’t stand dat shit, y’know. Cause if you can’t work wit your fuckin hands, you ain’t no fuckin good.”(ꔘ)

That was when Zipco finally stopped to take a breath, but before Danny could get in a word of follow up, he chugged right along, albeit more calmly this time. “I, uh, y’know I like to work. I ain’t no fuckin prick. Like to work wit my hands n’ shit. I work hard for my money y’know.”(ꔘ)

Danny took a beat, in case he had more left, before agreeing, “Oh yeah, yeah.”(ꔘ)

As Danny put the mic down in the grass next to him to set up the camera, Zip eyed him suspiciously. “So, what d’you do?”(ꔘ)

“I studied photography …” When that was met with no response, Danny dropped the punch-line, real smooth, “… in college.”(ꔘ)

Chuckling, there was a smirk of admiration as Zipco nodded, knowing he’d been got but not as sore about it as he’d expected to be.

And while he had enough respect not to call Danny ‘pinko,’ Zipco had still taken to calling him ‘college boy’ occasionally after that. That is, until a few months later, on a ride-along out to Ohio for a different car show when Danny finally convinced him that he technically did work with his hands.

“Ey, lookee here,” Zip put his foot on the cooler and tipped back the lawn chair he was sitting in as Danny approached from behind, “college boy’s made it to da party, eh?”

“Hey Zip,” Danny said, “Lemme ask you something,” adjusting his lens before kneeling down to snap a picture of Zipco looking right at him, arm defiantly flung over the back of the lawn chair. “You, uh— you ever consider it actually takes hands to do what I do?”

“Fuck outta here. What you mean?”

“I mean,” Danny stood back up again, hands up like the cops got him surrounded, camera in one of them and said, self-satisfied as a politician, “There are no pictures without these.”

Zipco chewed on that for a moment like he couldn’t figure if it was the most profound or profoundly stupid thing in the world. He must’ve fallen on the side of the former when he made up his mind though because there was a little head-bow of agreement and a smile of surrender. He dropped the whole ‘college boy’ bit after that.

But yeah, aside from the occasional mini-revelations from the Gospel of Zipco, these guys don’t look at anything too close.

Heck, if it wasn’t for Kath none of them would’ve even known about the few times Danny’d been to jail. Which of course, he had no way of knowing Kathy was gonna break that news because if he did, he never would’ve told her in the first place. Just considering the possible scenarios as to how it might’ve come up in conversation – one he wasn’t there for, no less – Danny wished a hole in the earth would crack open and gobble him right up.

But boy, were the guys floored when they heard. Worse than a sewing circle the next time Danny came to the bar. Chattering amongst themselves, eyeing him as he walked past the pool tables to greet them like– well, Kathy once described it as, ‘like dey was plannin somethin over dere.’(ꔘ) And the closer he got, the faster they closed ranks and hushed up. Virtually indistinguishable, but for the tattoos and tough stares, from a gaggle of primary school boys talking all kinds of shit by their lockers about that poor kid who didn’t know he’d stepped in dogshit and tracked it through the hallway.

Naturally, Brucie started busting his balls the minute Danny pressed play on the tape recorder.

“Ey, here comes Mr. Forty-Five-to-Life. Tell me, how funny were you walking on yer way outta that place?” Brucie announced it without looking from his newspaper like it was one of the bylines. “Pretty boy like you’s bound to fetch top dollar in dere.”

Talk about deer in headlights. So caught off guard, Danny’s head practically spun. “The heck you goin on about?”

An arm whipped around his neck with the force of a U-lock, and in that low Golden State lullaby of his, Cal joked, “That’s some solid civil disobedience there, brother. And here we all were thinking you’re a law-abiding, tax-paying cit-o-zen,” ruffling Danny’s hair with each over-enunciated syllable.

“Yeah, not some dirty commie,” Corky hooted into the neck of the beer he’d been sipping out of.

Releasing Danny, Cal stood up straight, all serious now and a little bit salty, “Hey, dipshit. Y’know communism and the Civil Rights Movement aren’t the same thing?”

Corky just rolled his eyes, with another one from Wahoo on its heels in a show of support like, Get a load’a this guy.

Johnny chimed in from a stool all the way down at the end of the bar to settle the matter, “You clowns think I let just any ole asshole in here wit’a fuckin camera? Mm-mm, I clocked that this kid weren’t no princess.”

A surprising remark from someone Danny thought he’d made no impression on, nevermind one that favorable. Sure, Johnny let him tag along on rides and take pictures but he and Danny weren’t especially cozy. And Johnny wasn’t especially sentimental. Not out loud, anyway. Second only to Benny, he was the most reserved of the bunch. Except when he was drunk, which Danny noted pretty early on with some fascination, happened less often than the other guys.

Still, uncomfortable as it was, being discussed in his absence, Danny held his breath waiting for it to get worse. For the real kicker to land, the punchline that would launch a feeding frenzy of accusations that he’d been telling tales out of school. Because surely Kathy had told them who’d been in the jail cell across from him. He could already hear the ridicule, the disbelief that didn’t even exist yet.

Probably it’d be Brucie who’d start in, maybe Zipco. So, you mean to tell me you met Mr. Big-Fuckin’-Dreams, Martin Luther King, in a fuckin drunk tank? In middle-of-shit-fuck-nowhere Arkansas?

Before Danny could get the chance, Cal would already be correcting them. Alabama, you nitwit. Not Arkansas.

Cockroach might pipe up, Ey, ain’t dat guy, uh, a doctor er somethin?

Someone else’d interrupt, Nah, dat guy’s a man o’ the cloth wit The Man Upstairs. Deacon, er a reverend, er some shit.

Cal would beat Danny at correcting them, again. He’s both. Reverend and doctor.

And Danny would just sit there, fiddling with the camera, ears red, laughing but the laugh’s all thin and tense because really, how do you convince a bar full of blue-collar bikeriders that you, little old you, met the Martin Luther King Jr. locked up overnight in a rural county jail down south?

Mercifully though, he wouldn’t have to convince them. Because it seemed apparently, Kathy hadn’t offered up that part of the story. So relieved Danny was at the time, he had to hide feeling nearly knocked over with it.

See, because he’d told Kath the whole story. He hadn’t even meant to really. But by the time she was pouring a fourth cup of coffee, the afternoon sun was shining right through the window, lighting up the shag area rug on her bedroom floor, a bright orange reminder he’d stayed past their agreed-upon 12:30 curtain call. And mid-telling her all about how he wound up getting his last job – how he’d been makin pictures since he was 17, how he’d had a knack for it throughout college, but that his time in the SNCC’s what made him a real journalist – he couldn’t figure why she didn’t kick him out after staying so long, why she’d let him carry on jabbering away about himself like that.

Anyway, the punchline never came, and Danny was grateful to avoid the regret he might’ve felt sharing that with her. There was no way the guys would’ve bought that he met the good Reverend King in the klink. That would’ve been dead on arrival. Truth perceived as a lie that he would’ve never lived down. And nothing’s worse than the truth you can’t live down.

But Kath was that good at flipping the script that way, putting him in focus without him noticing. He suspected it was from all the time she’d spent watching Benny, casting her impressions of him and then voicing them, if only to cultivate some back and forth that might resemble a conversation. Because Danny had seen it, Benny was a tough nut to crack. Even for those that knew him, it was hard to know know him. Every once in a while though Kathy would catch him in a sharing mood and that’s the most Danny’d see him talk. It was in those moments, he got it - why they were together, why they got together in the first place. Something special, intangible, that thing called love, that two-person ecosystem insufficiently described by words or pictures no matter how hard we still try.

Yet there was distance too. Always would be. Impossible, really, trying to know someone like that, aloof, prospecting for new info, digging up a bit more each day, piece by painful piece. Because talking to Benny wasn’t like talking to an actual person. It was more like he was some great celestial object and you, always in-orbit; the only way to him was around. In that sense, Danny really felt for Kath.

Still, even as he felt her loneliness like it was his own, like he’d been living it all these years, he also found her love for Benny, her commitment to loving him, altogether compelling even if she still hoped to change him somehow. There was a resilience, a covert reserve of strength in that loneliness, something that made it so sometimes he got to thinking she might even be better at making pictures than him. Like if someone put a camera in her hands and let her run wild in that human zoo they called the Stoplight, yeah, Danny’d bet money she’d make some memorable pictures.

…

There’s no easy way to tell her though - heck, he learned it the hard way himself - operating on the edges of things doesn’t make for the most efficient agent of change. But it’s the best for documenting the moment, the for-right-now. If he learned anything in the Montgomery county jail, if he learned anything from those moments watching Kathy and Benny, it was that.

On the edges and right now are certainly his place, anyway.

═

taglist: @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @ashlingiswriting, @tofuwildcard, @cositapreciosa, @axreliono, @bellinitini , @complete-nonsequitur, @when-did-this-become-difficult, @ladygoatee (tagged everyone I previewed this to in wc but no pressure to read bc I know not everyone is in this fandom)

#bikeriders #the bikeriders #kathy cross x danny lyon #kathy cross #danny lyon #bikeriders movie #bikeriders fanfic #jodie comer #mike faist

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hannah-heartstrings · 2 years

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Skyrim Asks

Thanks for the tag @babyblueetbaemonster!

I think that makes now a good time to introduce my dragonborn Kyria! (Pronounced Kai-ra, I don't know what was up with younger me's spelling)

A Nord battlemage from a secluded village somewhere in the eastern mountains, raised in the old Nord ways, so basically she knows lore but not what's currently going on. Joined the Stormcloaks because the Imperials tried to cut her head off that one time and she's still mad about it.

Currently on the run from her destiny and probably the law in at least one province, not because she's a criminal but because she's prone to causing problems.

On to the actual asks:

1. Favorite Tavern:

I don’t know, I played on 360 so no mods and it was long before survival mode so I didn't stay at inns much. XD

I know she doesn't like the ones that play the Imperial song though.

She might like the New Gnisis Corner Club to get a break from the rest of Windhelm but I don't really think they want Nords there.

2. Favorite Drink:

Mead

3. Travel Companion:

Meeko! The lonely loyal dog quickly became her best friend, they’re inseparable now. And he's the only one who will eat her cooking. XD

Sometimes she also travels with her fellow college students.

4. Wealthy or not?

5. Worships the Aedra or the Daedra?

I never really thought of her as that religious but since she was raised in the ancient Nord ways, she’d probably worship the Nordic Pantheon. But since she’s a rebellious teenager, probably not too religious.

6. Biggest Fear:

Failure, she's made so many mistakes that she's afraid of her next one, you'd think that would make her be more careful but no she continues to be reckless and make mistakes.

Convinced that she'll only ever be a screw up she's also afraid of her destiny as dragonborn, afraid of what would happen if she tried to save the world.

But I think her biggest fear is that she will never change.

7. Pet Peeves:

Jerks, she ends up in a fistfight with a lot of them.

8. Do they like being dragonborn?

Eventually I think she'd have fun with the cool powers, but at first doesn't because of the previously mentioned fears. So she just pretends she isn't dragonborn as if that solves anything.

9. Favorite faction:

The College of Winterhold, it became a home to her (probably because I never bought a house) and the fellow students there her friends.

10. An object of sentimental value:

Was going to be the dagger Alvor taught her to make but I made a bunch of iron daggers to enchant and sell and forgot about it. If I do another playthrough maybe I'll also make it the first thing she enchants, that way I can rename it.

I do like the idea of it being a sentimental item storywise, maybe being the first thing she forged it's not made quite right and Alvor told her that mistakes were just part of learning, so she pulls it out sometimes to remember that. Also I have her using a dagger in an important scene, it might as well be that one.

11. Hobbies:

Interfering with Imperial business. XD

Really I can't think of anything she does other then what we do in game, so I think her hobbies are traveling Skyrim with her dog, bounty hunting, and annoying Imperials.

12. Favorite city:

I’m surprised how difficult this one is. ‘Cause I don’t really like the towns I ended up in the most and I’m not sure she’d actually like them any better.

She likes the College of Winterhold but I don't think she'd care anything about the town, she'd mind Windhelm's cold bleak aesthetic less than I do but it has too many jerks.

Probably Whiterun, but really she prefers the countryside.

Wait, I just realized I assumed this meant hold capitals, it might not. If it's any town then it's definitely Riverwood. It might be the first place to truly take her in since she's left her village, even the Imperials there are so nice and welcoming. Riverwood just feels like home. She wants to beat up Sven and Faendal though.

Tagging: @arimabari @nerevar-quote-and-star @arnaerr and anyone who wants to

Thanks again! I love having the excuse to ramble about my characters. XD

#dragonborn #ldb #skyrim #the elder scrolls #tes #tes oc #oc #oc intro #kyria #meeko #skyrim fanfiction #my playthroughs #tag game #the hilt of that orcish sword in the second picture is killing me

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captainjacklyn · 2 years

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Twisted Wonderland OC :

“Sole female student of Night Raven College. She works at the mostro lounge as a waitress and occasional singer. Her eerie laugh can be recognised from a mile away, you may remember her as ‘Mademoiselle fou rire’.

[Bio]

Name : Jeanne Occupation : student, royal advisor of prince Zeng Age : 17 years old (supposedly) Birthday : 11th of december (sagittarius) Height : 175 cm Dominant Hand : Right Homeland : ??? Family :

Unnamed Parents [divorced]

Unnamed step-mother & step-siblings

Unnamed younger brother

Other Name(s) : Mademoiselle fou rire [Rook], Sparkly Hoe [Leona], Jellyfish-chan [Floyd]

[School]

Grade : SophomoreClass : Class B Club : Track and Field club Best Subject : Biology & Music

[Preferences]

Hobbies : Interacting with customers Pet Peeves : Having people in the way of her goals, Loud Noises/Voices Favorite Food : Bolognese Least Favorite Food : Pineapple [allergy reasons] Talent : Manipulation, future prediction

Appearance :

Jeanne is a fairly tall lady with a fine complexion and light skin. She has average long, brown hair which reaches down to her shoulders. Her hair is thin and often seen tucked behind her ears or one side is most likely to be. Her eyes have the same color as her hair but with a much darker tone, in addition she is described to also have large black eye bags under her eyes. She is frequently seen with a neutral face that expresses a soft smile when approached.

Personality :

Jeanne is very well known in Night Raven College for being the only female student in an all male school. She was able to enter NRC through the help of Zeng and is now a second year student. At first glance, she is neither too cheerful nor unapproachable but with time Jeanne lets her professional facade falter and her personality takes a 180 degree turn. She is in reality a lot more bold, cunning, sly and almost shameless, even goofy at times. The simplest things can trigger her questionable laugh that resonates through the school’s walls.

Many have asked if she is ever embarrassed with her actions and her answer stays the same, “I’ve lost my shame a long time ago and besides even if I didn’t, we only live once. From what I know, you’ll be ashamed to have not done something you wished to do before. Might as well not care and reflect later.”

In addition to that, Jeanne is also obsessive. Especially when it comes to love, she will get overly excited around those she romantically like although it can't be seen. Simply seeing them or passing by makes her shiver with an uncontrollable feeling of joy.

Her eyes take the shape of a heart outline, but after a couple blinks it changes back to normal.

When she wishes to have something, it is easy for her to black mail or guilt trip her way to it. Despite those small flaws, Jeanne can still be a kind and warm person. When talking to her juniors, she gives the impression of a caring older sister.

Many first years ended up venting to her about their experience and insecurities. She knows how to comfort people and give them the courage to face their fears despite not being as strong herself. Jeanne doesn’t like appearing weak to others but she does have her vulnerable moments. In times where her self esteem is down, her smile is still as warm but not in the usual cheerful way, it’s almost sad but still caring.

Signature Spell :

“May one’s light assist me.” The user is capable of creating light made creatures (often small animal-like phantoms) which lead them to wherever they wish to go. It can pass through any small exits and hold objects, if the user is unable to do things with their own hand the light is here to help them. If these creatures aren't controlled properly, they explode creating a blinding flash of light.

Trivia :

She is a close friend of Rook, the two of them met through Jeanne finding out he could speak French as well.

Jeanne has an obsessive admiration towards Azul and has said that she will do anything in his honor.

Her laugh is so loud, it once woke up silver who was taking a nap in the garden.

Leona calls her ‘sparkly hoe’ because she once practiced her unique magic in the botanical garden and one of the creatures flashed or rather exploded right when he opened his eyes.

He was practically blind for three days after the incident.

Epel sees her as an older sister and so does Deuce, she acts like a confidence booster for the both of them.

Jeanne enjoys singing.

She makes suicidal jokes about herself very often, it's concerning to say the least.

Her eye bags are caused by her insomnia.

Well she can sleep whenever and wherever she wants to, however, the number of coffee cups she drinks don't agree.

Her real age is unknown, many have assumed that she is older than what she looks like.

As a tendency to threaten male students with, "If you don't shut up right this instant I'll make sure you can never have children."

Don't worry she's just trying to scare them...I think.

Picrew Version !

A/N : her hair is brown but it made it seem darker then intended. Also, she/her pronouns for Jeanne !

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m0e-ru · 2 years

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hi hi woohoo yippee hopping jumping clapping taking out my notes. also copy pasting a bit from my au pages

kai moeru's take on a p4 femc au!!! not only will the protagonist and Velvet Room attendant have their own counterparts, but so will Marie and Izanami because yeah whoo yeah yeah. I haven't decided on a name for her yet, so in the meantime I've been calling her "sukeban," female counterpart to "bancho."

Bancho > Sukeban

A fully fledged girl delinquent except… she’s also not. Workaholic parents who don’t give her much notice and constant school hopping due to the nature of her parents’ jobs. She is brash and has quite a potty mouth, but she is a quick witted, strong and caring leader of the Investigation Team as she pours her own soul into searching for the truth with her new friends. Her initial Persona is "Izanami (イザナミ)."

Margaret > Victor

A flirtatious glittery prick of a host who complains about not having a guest he can serve alcohol to. Always getting on Sukeban’s nerves, calling her pet names like “kitten” at every opportunity. But he is a Velvet Room attendant first, pain in the ass second. He performs his duties properly and with pride, and takes good care of Stein who recently began residing within the Velvet Room.

Marie > Stein

A boy lost in thought and with a loss of memories. He is ushered into the Velvet Room and is taken in as an apprentice. While he sits around in the stuffy room, or is being chaperoned around the nostalgic human world, he thinks about his memories while he takes his mundane thoughts, which he mumbles and… raps about them.

Izanami > Izanagi

The pretentious god who thinks about giving the ideal “life” to his people with carefully controlled fog. His facade is that of a weather reporter, regularly appearing on TV and eagerly encouraging publicity for himself. His name under his facade appears to be "Akihisa Kino ( 輝乃朗久)," Inaba's beloved weather girl "Aki." He feigned mourning for Mayumi Yamamo's passing as a fellow co-worker, despite seeing her die by her own Shadow with his own eyes.

more details of plot differences and characters and such as much as I've been able to flesh them out under cut !!! fun fact !! I thought of a possible Velvet Room attendant first before the actual femc

sukeban

I'll be honest, I managed to flesh out their characters a bit better by thinking of pq2 crossover scenarios. In fact I have ideas for a femc Q SOTL and a Q2 NCL + Sukeban edition but I'll put that aside for another day 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

Sukeban never really wanted to be a delinquent. She just fell into society's gimmicks and decided to play the role assigned to her. Transfer student with a history of constantly changing schools, coming late on her first day and most other days, being occasionally grumpy and brash because of the lack of sleep, unable to make friends or connections because of her circumstance having her habitually be as unapproachable as possible.

Her parents aren't around as often and wasn't ever there to support her at school. Festivals? Class performances? No, they had a business trip, an important meeting, stuck with clients. She wouldn't even want to bother them with what she's doing at school. Not like they need to.

Staying up as late as she wants because there wasn't anyone there to actively discipline her out of love and having to get used to the new house for the month, although there wasn't much to do than sulk around thinking about the next move which could happen at any time. Thinking her archery club teammates would get mad at her for leaving after they've applied her into competitions, so she never bothered to enter after one experience.

Then she was really being confused for a delinquent for how disheveled she looked, even asked by long skirt, bleached haired girls what her school was.

She learned how to fight for herself, instinctively hold any long pole like objects like bats, hope her uniform shoes hold up every walk into town, learn the lingo and get that same accent just so people could get the picture right away. Although with most encounters with normal people, she just hopes intimidating them enough with the image she's built would scare them off. Avoiding her parents around the house not saying a word to one another.

They're out for overseas work, meaning she's booted back to her mother's hometown to stay with her uncle and cousin for a year.

Halted at the front of the train station by a peppy looking weather reporter, giving her a brief interview as a "city girl" and getting her hand shaken. Soon after, she meets her uncle and cousin. Now stopping at a gas station to see this... wandering boy with a somewhat listless expression hand her a memo she dropped. The graphic tee and cargo pants was... a statement

Suddenly she's stuck in the middle of a murder mystery, being able to hop into televisions that could kill people and promise her classmate she'll help the cause to stop people from dying. Now there's this thing she can summon, a "Persona," monkey bear mascot said—why was it rotting and beautiful in two different halves of itself? That's her? ... that's pretty metal

She's awake in the blue room again. With the man and the long nose again. With the freak of nature host calling her "kitten" like she thought she avoided every red light district just so she wouldn't meet pricks like this ever in her life. Now that boy from last time has a stupid hat and silly bag—a pair of headphones too? He's intertwined with her fate, they say. What fate? To get through a year in this backwater city? To solve the mystery plaguing this town? What'll he do to help, give him a mixtape of middle school level tunes he made himself?

Getting through that year was something. Actually getting into clubs again. Skip class and carry bags for a girl. Get good pay from part time jobs. Becoming friends with a fox and have some faith in shrine prayers. Got a scooter licence. Actually learn how to cook for her little cousin's sake. The deliveryman who'd hand her the Tanaka special goods she'd call to buy was behind the kidnappings. Her uncle's partner was behind the killings and cat and mouse game she got to beat up as liberally as she wanted. Her friend who almost killed himself was actually god who was actually the weather reporter on TV almost every broadcast then she returned a whole world into the fogless paraside state it was. and that host wasn't actually all that bad a freaky prick he's actually really nice.

okay!!!! not proofreading this i gotta stop putting effort into bullshit it becomes plot (I dont) more miscellaneous stuff I guess???

Sukeban isn't as good a cook as Bancho so she actually learns throughout the year to make nice bento (and be at least a bit better than the other girls concocting literal poison). She does archery, but would rather not use it in the TV world or anything violent for that matter, she respects the art. Her dynamic with Kanji is a fun brain exercise. Also one time they called themselves "Investigation Gang" instead of "Team" while Yosuke starts imagining something silly like they all look like goons but Kanji looks the same sorry Kanji </3 She was about to finally snap when she learned Vic almost named Stein "Frank" like that would've been the last straw.

Victor hmmm. Unlike Margaret who I was personally really felt a bit uncomfortable with the flirting and subtext in her speech sometimes playing as a highschool protagonist and seeing this individual as a grown woman, he takes it up a notch and kinda makes it obvious it's superficial just to joke around and get reactions out of Sukeban, to play his "role" as a silly host as "Club Velvet" (inspired by what Elizabeth talked about a few times). He's really just a good guy and does his job as attendant well. He'll be sophisticated when he needs to but in the meantime he likes being over the top to hear sukeban groan or try to hit him. He calls her "babygirl" when he's the babygirl in the room. They have this older brother younger sister kind of dynamic I like to think. Stein is literally just there when shit goes down. The IT first see him in Stein's tomb after he found it and brought them there. They ask sukeban who this glitzy looking city boy host is and she just calls him a slur. He can also make nice cocktails (that humans can't actually consume) and stacks champagne towers when Igor isn't around. Vic and Margaret hate each other they hope the other would just get out. get out of the velvet room I dont want to see your face because if we fought it'd cause the end of the world. <- mostly Margaret.

Stein HAHA Stiney boy. I'll admit I'm the one who named him "Frank" first. sorry. He's just as blunt as Marie but he's less tsundere and more... deadass (?) idk how to explain how I imagine him actually but in general he's like bancho. he doesn't really have strong reactions to things but he sure has opinions. Gotta give him some sort of unlikeable fandom trait like Marie's tsundere mary sue ass or whatever people complained about. Instead of writing poems, he just records some Dr. Seuss level rhymes about his memories. Contrast to Marie reciting poems in her tomb and being poetic and gloomy, Stein would rap his bars and get a little riled up trying to tell sukeban and the IT to leave. Unlike Margaret who intentionally leaves her poems out for people to see, Stein leaving tapes is a lot more of a genuine blunder while even Vic is curious as to what he recorded. Stein isn't too embarrassed about it, either he wouldn't notice you've listened to it and gets it back, or he knows and asks "how was it" maybe.

IZANAGI /vine boom/ gigi. gets his gay little ass. going teehee I'm everyone's girl everyone knows me I'm correct about the weather always because I am the weather. complaining like "zamn guys the weather's gna be rain again this week :/// this sucks yknow it's so shitty nowadays </////3"<- behind the shitty weather. Besides iznmi being this "mother knows best" situation, Izanagi's more like "condescending man over men high and mighty whatever the hell fuck you I'm god." His realm isn't Yomotsu Hirasaka, it's like "Hollow Forest But Like For Real This Time." It's the forest the TV world was, but all monochrome and superficial and forced. This is the "life" Izanagi thinks is best for people, nothing to see when everything's just veiled in the fog. The forest has been hollowed of life. When he's defeated, his reporter facade would be completely forgotten by the normal folk. Like "Aki" never existed in this reality. ever.

mini pq ideas as bonus. Stein and Marie would be friends. Margaret and Victor just see each other again and it's usually Margaret going off when Vic just breathes. Although he does get along well with Elizabeth and keeps trying to coach Theo to step up for himself and stop being a doormat. Second eldest kind of things. Sukeban 🤝 Hamuko our friends are from a different world who dont know us but know someone else who has the same role as us in their world. oh oh Vic's booth in the cultural festival is like a mini host club booth . there's a little disco ball there and a couch pushed inside with kid friendly drinks on the table he'd make little cocktails out of. give those highschoolers the "minor's host club experience." sukeban would just threaten to report him for unauthorised booth set up in her school. he also knows like every terrible cheesy pick up line out there. for fun.

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tsukishumai · 3 years

Text

Persistent Crush;

feat. MIYA ATSUMU

genre; fluff

a/n; there was supposed to be more parts but Atsumu’s got long so a solo post for my love <33

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Atsumu

Atsumu never thought the team needed a manager.

Especially not one that declared their love for him ten seconds into their first practice.

And much to his chagrin, the rest of the boys seem to be in on it too.

Kita-san literally never lets anyone mess around during practice.

But he lets you catcall him from across the court? He doesn’t say anything when you squeal and fan girl loudly every time Atsumu hits a perfect serve? You pretend to faint whenever you hand him a towel, and you fan yourself whenever he looks at you. Kita-san even laughs.

The very first words out of your mouth every time you walk into the gym is “WHERE IS MY BABY TSUMU?!”

It’s become normal for you to ask him out at the end of every practice.

“Hey, Atsumu, in case you were wondering, I’m free this Saturday at four.” “Y/N, I literally do NOT care.”

You had caught him on a bad day, none of his serves were landing and he couldn’t get the timing of any of his tosses correctly. you were pestering him about how he liked his eggs cooked in the morning, and he just snapped.

“Can ya just leave me the hell alone and not be a useless manager for one damn second?!”

The entire team froze and looked at you.

You said nothing in response. You just smiled and said you had to go wash the practice jerseys.

You didn’t talk to him the rest of practice, and you didn’t talk to him the next day.

Atsumu was not going to admit that his day felt completely off. That he was waiting for you to pop up and force him to have lunch with you, or that he was staring at the back of your head in class, hoping you would toss him a note that said “will you go out with me, circle YES or YES”

You didn’t. You left class without even sparing a glance in his direction.

He had been counting down the minutes until practice started, having every intention to apologize for his outburst, but when he got to the gym, you weren’t there.

“Oi. Suna. Where’s y/n?”

Atsumu didn’t notice the smirk on Suna’s face.

“Oh. You didn’t hear?” “Quit being cryptic, ya jackass, hear what??”

“Y/N quit today. Said something about being manager for the basketball team instead.”

Atsumu felt like someone just ripped the floor out from beneath his feet.

“What the hell are ya talking about??” Please say you’re kidding.

Suna just shrugged. Atsumu looked at Kita for confirmation. The captain just gave him a tight smile.

Nationals were around the corner. He still had to prepare for the youth volleyball camp. He had about a million and one things he needed to work on, and not nearly enough time for all of it.

But he turned around and left the gym like a man on a mission.

Objective: find y/n

His first instinct told him to check the basketball club, but when he got there, the door was locked and there were no students around.

He tried to think of where else he could go, and when he turned around to head back to the school, he froze in his tracks.

There you were, walking down the halls, laughing next to the basketball captain.

Atsumu saw red. All logic flew out his head, and all he could think about was snatching you away from the loser that couldn’t even win the inter-high.

Your eyes widened, slightly smiling as he approached.

“Atsumu, what—“

“Saturday at four, right?” “...huh?”

He’s not sure who’s more confused; you or captain basketball

“Ya said you’re free Saturday at four right??”

You looked suspicious. “Uhm.. yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll take ya out. Please, just don’t quit the damn team.”

At this, captain basketball quietly excused himself, not that Atsumu noticed about him anyway.

Now you were completely lost. “Quit? Who told you I was quitting?”

Atsumu starts to think that maybe, possibly, someone might have been messing with him.

“Suna — he… he said — So you’re not …?”

You slowly start to piece together just what exactly is happening. A shit eating grin spreads on your face.

“So you came to stop me from quitting?”

Atsumu doesn’t admit,,, but he doesn’t deny.

“What the hell are ya even doing here? You’re missing practice.”

“There was a club meeting. Kita-san sent me as a representative.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes.

“Why were you chattin’ it up with the basketball captain?”

Envy was a good look on Atsumu, one that you wanted to see on him more often.

“They have a better spot for their booth for cultural festival. I was trying to get him to switch with us.”

Atsumu feels stupid. He feels like some jackass that just got played like the first level of an arcade game.

He grabs your wrist and drags you back to the volleyball gym.

“So… Saturday at four?”

“I hate you.”

“You better be nicer to me, or else I really will quit.”

“Ya know what, I rescind my offer.”

“Wait — Tsumu —! You know what rescind means?!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

rbs v appreciated <33

#hihqnetwork #hanimehub #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu imagines #miya atsumu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! headcanon #hq!! x reader #hq x reader

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shroudcore · 3 years

Text

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (Finale)

Summary: The ghosts may have left, but the wedding they officiated is not something to be easily forgotten. Will unsaid feelings remain hidden? Idia thinks so, after seeing you with your admirers.

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

After that 3-star difficulty sidequest, it was finally time for the ghosts to leave. They were filing out through a shimmering silver portal to the Land of the Dead, which you joked about jumping into “for the meme”. Idia was quick to discourage it. The joke would’ve been funny at any other time than right now.

Each ghost made sure to give the newlyweds their congratulations. Each congratulation made Idia want to take off into the night, never to be seen again. It was beyond embarrassing. Unbearable. Way past his limit of social interaction capability. Things were getting way too much to handle for his now-empty Energy bar.

While Idia longed for the comfort and isolation of his dorm room, you were the one who thanked the well-wishers and said the goodbyes—from a safe distance, of course.

“When we return, I want you to meet our baby!” Eliza announced before she stepped into the portal. You and Idia shared a look. As if reading each other’s minds, you checked your schoolmates’ faces for their reactions—which did not disappoint. Different ways of saying “Don’t come back!” filled the hall, in varying degrees of anger and vulgarity. Before she disappeared for good, Eliza huffed and stuck her nose up in the air—an expression that tonight’s failed suitors knew all too well.

At her departure, the portal shrunk into a mere speck until it completely disappeared. Then came the loudest cheers of the night serving as Victory fanfare. It was all over! But before he went, Idia hoped to say goodbye and take a look at you in your suit one last time. Or maybe even ask you to hang out tomorrow, depending on his current Courage level.

While he silently rehearsed his thank-yous and good-byes, he wondered if you knew that you were still holding his hand. He decided not to mention it.

Unfortunately, his brief moment of (weak) celebration was cut short when he noticed that the now-mobile Groom Rejects were approaching. They might as well have red bars floating over their heads to warn him of danger. He froze, contemplating whether to:

> Bear it and stay with you just until he was prepared to say goodbye (+10 relationship points -20 comfort LV)

> Just run off on his own without saying anything, ignoring your calls. (-10 relationship points +10 comfort LV)

For now, he decided to stick with Option 1. Just a little bit longer.

“That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed, rushing over to give you a high-five. You laughed and met other high-fives, low-fives, fist bumps, and head pats that came your way with that lovely smile of yours.

Suddenly, Ace rips you away from him. Suddenly, you weren’t holding hands anymore. The loud first-year put his arm around you and Idia couldn’t help but notice how easy and natural it looked. Meanwhile, there he was: someone who needed to rehearse his goodbyes.

Clearly, there was a huge level difference here and Idia was the one disadvantaged.

“Our hero!” Ace yelled, inspiring more cheers. The distance between you and Idia grew as your wave of admirers and friends swept you farther and farther away. He was an outsider once again, stuck watching the fun from the sidelines. Their eyes sparkled. Their mouths smiled. Their loud voices laughed and praised you and laughed with you again.

They loved you. And Idia was no different.

Everyone’s Friend and the Weird Shut-in. Was there hope?

“Brother, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ortho’s voice cut through his stream of thoughts. Immediately, he feels the weight on his shoulders lighten.

He watched as his brother, his beacon of hope, made his way around your fan club until he eventually reached his spot. Ortho wouldn’t care if he looked like a loser, standing there awkwardly at the side all alone. Finally, he was saved.

My savior! “Ortho! Thank you, thank you…”

“No injuries… tense muscles… an increase in cortisol production,” Ortho muttered, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“No…”

Ortho nods. “We’ll return to the dorm, then. But before that, we should thank the Prefect.”

“Oh… right.” Idia looked over to you, still surrounded by your “fans” like the SSR character you were. You listened to Azul, who prattled on and on about something that was oh-so-interesting that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. And Vil judged your suit’s design, reaching out to fix something near your neck. You cracked up at something Floyd said. You posed and smiled beside Cater as he took a selfie with you.

His mind raced as it continuously spotted the students on his list and everything they did. What was so interesting about Azul? What was so funny about Floyd? Did you like Vil’s hardworking, confident attitude? Did you think Cater had a way with words?

He looked away.

“Ortho, I’m going back to my room,” he said with a heavy heart, admitting Defeat. He was underleveled, had zero energy, and zero SP (social points). He’ll see you… some other time. After his cry-sesh, maybe.

“Huh? Don’t you want to talk to the Prefect first?”

“I’ll just… DM them later,” he lied. In truth, all he wanted was to drown himself in a video game while he gorged on candy and tried not to think about you. Ortho’s eyes narrowed, but followed him as he sneakily left the hall anyway.

You’d understand, right?

Once he and Ortho were out, he looked back at the hall doors, hating himself for being too shy and cowardly to make a move. He imagined charging back into the room, wedging himself in between your friends, grabbing your arm, and pulling you away. Then he’ll kabedon you and—

Who was he kidding? He can’t do that, and you probably wouldn’t like that.

“It was terrible, brother. Nobody wanted to help!” Ortho said, and Idia thinks he didn’t need to be reminded that nobody liked him.

“When the Prefect and I reached Diasomnia, we expected them to reject us too…” he mused. “But Malleus Draconia agreed to help us! Can you believe it?”

“Wait… Malleus-shi?”

Ortho nodded enthusiastically. “Yes… because the Prefect talked to him… and then he cast a charm on them to help us ward off those ghosts! It was really nice of him.”

“I see…” Idia knew that you and Malleus were friends. But to actually help you and him? Maybe your relationship with the Diasomnia dorm leader ran deeper than he thought. Why else would he go through that trouble?

“The Prefect volunteered without needing to be asked, you know,” said Ortho, who he now noticed was observing him carefully. Idia tried to ignore the way his brother’s eyes lingered on him as they walked (floated in Ortho’s case).

“...I’m so glad their plan worked!”

Wait, what?

“Volunteered? Their plan?” All this time, he thought you’d been forced to do this by the Headmaster! You did always rant about Crowley promising you different sorts of rewards if you did jobs here and there. But… you got yourself into this mess… all for him?

Idia looked at the hand you held just moments ago and dared not hope again. Maybe you would have done this for anyone else in his place. Maybe you treated everyone the same, and it just so happened that he was the one kidnapped by a ghost bride.

Still, he felt bad for not doing as Ortho said earlier. It was too late to turn back, however, as Idia and Ortho finally reached the Hall of Mirrors.

“Finally… I’m so tired,” said Idia, meaning it in all ways. But as he put one leg forward to enter the door to Ignihyde, he heard someone’s voice, along with the scuffle of shoes against the floor coming closer and closer to where he and Ortho stood.

“Idia, wait up!”

Oh no. It’s you. Enter now! Enter now!

But no matter what his head told him to do, he remained rooted to his spot. He stood still despite his pounding heart, that elevator-like feeling in his stomach, and the blaring alarms in his head.

Object of affection at 5m…

Ortho was probably seeing his vitals going haywire and giving him that look again. He turned to look at his brother… only to not find him there.

Help… oh no…

2m…

“Hey,” you gasped out, catching your breath. “When I turned around, you were gone…”

Yeah, same. Just like Ortho…

No one said a word for a while. The silence was only filled by your heavy breathing as it slowly evened. Inwardly facepalming at himself, he decided to take the chance to tell you everything he should’ve said before he left.

But before he could open his mouth and apologize for leaving, (gods know he had too many things to apologize for after tonight), he was taken into a warm embrace.

OHMYGODSOHMYGODSOHMYGODSOKAYLET’SCALMDOWN

“I thought I was too late.” you mumbled into his suit.

At that moment, without anyone else around, nothing else mattered but the safety of your arms. And damn, how good it felt to be embraced. Did anyone else get these hugs from you? Idia didn’t think so. He hesitantly lifted his arms up and hugged back.

Looking up at the domed castle ceiling, he wondered what he did to deserve something this good.

It’s okay. I can have this. He allows himself to melt into your arms, head drooping down to rest against your neck.

“G-good thing you weren’t,” he finally whispered back, freezing as he heard you sob against his chest. Oh no, oh no, what do you do when your love interest is crying? Quick, quick, pull up the archive of romantic scenes from your memory.

“Hey, hey, I-I’m okay, you see?” he said, patting your back awkwardly. You let go after releasing another sob to wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

“Sorry I got your suit wet,” you said softly, turning your face away. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened there too.”

“About what?”

“The whole wedding thing...” You took a quick look at him but immediately dropped your gaze to the ground.

Idia blushed. “I-It’s okay! D-don’t worry about it… I-”

Come on, say more! Ugh… I hate myself.

You pulled at our vest and slipped something out of it—an envelope. “I… wanted to tell you everything through a letter.”

Tell me what?

“But… Eliza came and took you before I could give it to you.” You avoided his eyes as your fingers tightened around the white envelope. Idia’s breath hitched, expecting you to crumple it. But to his relief, your fingers relaxed. Then, as if it took all your courage, you handed it to him with a slightly shaky hand.

“It's old-fashioned, I know but yeah... just read it!”

In the hall’s silence, he could hear your breaths quicken once again.

“Th-That’s all I came here for. Goodbye!”

Before he knew it, you were running off. Your arm waved frantically from a distance as every step carried you farther, farther away. He lifted his arm to wave back but you never saw it. You were gone and all he had left was the letter.

His curiosity made him impatient. With fast and purposeful steps, he sprinted on the way to his room. What did he feel? Excitement? Dread? An unpleasant mix of both? His room, feeling farther than usual, was the only safe place he could experience whatever it was.

After a lot of walking and almost slipping over someone’s spilled soda (he cursed the shoes those ghosts made him wear. His very own would never fail him like that), he found himself in front of the doors, which slid open, revealing Ortho already inside.

“You left me there!” Idia huffed.

“Couples need alone time, brother,” replied his brother, innocently blinking.

“Wh-wha… we’re not a couple!”

“Hmm? I could’ve sworn the signs were all there...”

A blushing Idia threw off the silly coat those ghosts made him wear and threw it over his desk chair. He sat on the bed, fingers racing to open the envelope. Ortho watched with great interest as two sheets of paper covered in your handwriting slipped out.

Unfolding the first page, Idia took a deep breath and began reading:

Hey Player 1!

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight last night. Maybe you can show me your new manga tomorrow? I know how excited you are about it. I’m writing this while Grim’s asleep. He’ll never let me hear the end of it otherwise.

I figured that this would be the best way to communicate my thoughts and feelings. This way, you won’t feel pressured to respond immediately. You can open and read it whenever you’re ready, in the safety of your room. I know it’s old-fashioned. But to me, a handwritten letter feels more personal—like I’m giving you a piece of myself. So here’s that piece of myself. Please, handle it with care.

Beware. I’m about to get sentimental and mushy and cheesy and everything you cringe at! I hope you read on, anyway.

First of all, I want you to know how much I admire you. Right from before we were friends, I was impressed by your intelligence and knowledge with technology. I’ve seen nothing like it back home. I always wondered why you hide yourself and those talents away. My curiosity drove me to want to get to know you. I’m glad I did.

You were closed off. To you, I was just another normie. Do you remember? Your dismissal annoyed me, so I challenged you to a 1v1 match. I thought I was good, but you crushed me. I guess that’s where it started: our friendship… and something else. Soon, I found more and more reasons to admire you. Honestly, I find more with each passing day.

I should have known, right from when songs started to make me think of you, that I was falling. I started to see you as, well, more than a friend. Your quick mind, your expressive hair, your soothing voice, your precious grin… your voice when you talk about things you love, your love of cats, and your candy, and your cold hands… Okay, I think you get the point. But if you have time, I could go on forever.

There’s something different in your eyes when you truly care. You say you’re bad at being sentimental and feel-y, but that’s okay! We express love differently. I see your love pour out in the way you perfect every detail on Ortho’s modifications, anyway. I’m sure he knows how much you love him.

I want you to know how special you are to me. You’re so amazing, Idia. I wish you knew that. I want you to know that.

I know it’s hopeless. You’re the young master to a noble house. I’m just… me. A homeless, magicless foreigner with nothing to my name. Nothing to offer but my feelings (and my superb gaming skills of course). I’m not asking nor expecting to be your special someone. But hey, I can be a top-tier teammate. A worthwhile BG opponent. A movie buddy. And most importantly—a friend.

Our time together has always been a highlight of my difficult stay in NRC. The times we hung out in your room were my refuge from the outside world’s demands. Somewhere I was untouchable and safe from harm. Safe from demeaning remarks. Even if you never get back to this letter and decide you never want to see me again, I will always treasure the matches we played, the movies we watched, the candy we shared, and the memes we laughed over.

That’s all of it, really. Please don’t sleep too late. Watch your sugar intake. Listen to Ortho. Take care of yourself.

Oh, and enjoy your new manga.

Your best raid teammate,

Player 2

Wide amber yellow eyes glistened as they repeatedly flitted over the words. A shaky thumb caressed the smudged ink from where a fallen teardrop marked the paper. Burning different shades at once, fire-hair slowly released itself from the tie it was forced into. Now free, it swathed Idia’s back in warmth like it should.

“Th-This can’t be real!” he sputters as he waved your letter around like he was fanning a bonfire. In a way, he was.

However, Idia knew his hair wasn’t the only thing that kept him warm. He stared at the letter and it stared back. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same. You felt the same.

“What have I done to unlock this route?” Idia clutched the letter to his chest, but noticed he was wrinkling it. “Nooo!” He quickly smoothed it over again.

“They… they like-like me!” Saying it out loud made it more real. It was a fact! It was true all this time! Thinking of everything you did tonight: rescuing him like a true hero, running after him because you couldn’t keep your feelings secret for much longer… he couldn’t stop himself from swooning.

“Like-like… did you mean love?”

“L-love?” Idia exclaimed. He suddenly felt dizzy, so he fell back onto his bed and talked to the ceiling. “It’s too early for that word!”

But he knew the effect which that word had on him didn’t go unnoticed by Ortho. Well, at least he knew now that Idia wasn’t suffering from an illness. Can love be considered an illness? Idia recalls a documentary that said it was. Back then, he ate that up. Love made people do crazy things, after all.

But ‘illness’ wasn’t an apt word to describe this dizzying happiness surging through him, was it? It was way too wonderful for a word like that.

“I’m so glad the Prefect finally confessed!” Ortho bounced happily, reflecting his brother’s joy. “I knew they would do it soon!”

Mouth hanging open, Idia looked at his brother. “Wait… you knew?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Ortho giggled. “Vitals can’t keep secrets!”

***

Contrary to plan, Idia didn’t touch his video games, nor gorge on candy, nor cry himself to sleep. Instead, he replayed the night’s events in his head over and over like a song he couldn’t get enough of. It had been two hours and thirty-five minutes since he read your letter. Two hours and thirty-five minutes since his world was turned upside down. In his reflection on the dark screen of his off tablet, he almost looked different. He saw someone who was admired. Wanted. Loved.

Was that what you saw whenever you looked at him?

Ortho told him what the next move was: asking you out. He was scared. You might have changed his view of himself a bit, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to go the distance and conquer the world, or whatever those overenthusiastic extroverts say. The night was still too much, and maybe he still needed those three weeks of being a complete hermit.

Okay. Maybe with your help, I'll get there little by little.

Perhaps you could watch a movie in his room... Would you be okay with that? You always hung out with him in there. But what if you wanted to do something outside? Eh, maybe it all didn’t matter, as long as you were together.

When he put on his headphones, he knew which song to choose right away. There was one forgotten song in his music library that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. A love song. It wasn’t a bad one, because Idia would never keep a bad song in his music library. It’s just that the lyrics were too happy—its singer so blissfully in love that it amplified the loneliness that had always been there.

Now playing: “Immortal Flowers” — SERPINA

This time, it’ll be different. Tonight, he puts it on repeat. He listens to it with a head for once clear of uncertainties. Instead, he thinks of fluffy otome scenarios.

That date idea would have to wait. For now, he’ll imagine and dream of you, with your warm smile and open arms—skin basking in the glow of blue fire light.

THE END.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

There you have it! Thank you for reading. I had fun writing this 4-part series. Would love to hear some feedback!

Btw, the title of the song Idia listens to at the end comes from “Conversations with Persephone” by Nikita Gill. “What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.”

#twst x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic #my work

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nationalharryleague · 4 years

Text

Acts of Service

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: FLUFF

Word count: 2K

A/N: This is a fluffy love letter to Harry’s love language definitely being acts of service. Feedback is always appreciated and loved! More of my work can be found in my masterlist!

***

You hadn’t wanted to go out in the first place.

The club was hot and sticky and the pounding of the music was giving you a headache between your eyes. Blisters had begun to form from the rubbing of your heels and your boob prison of a push up bra was beginning to pinch in all the wrong places. You wanted to go home.

At home, you knew the green-eyed, curly-haired god of a man you had somehow trapped in your own spell was waiting up for you. You pictured him curled up on your couch in your apartment, where you had begged him to stay so he would be there whenever you were released from Girls Night. You smiled at the thought of him fighting off sleep with your dog burrowed into his side and your kitten curled up on his chest. A smile pulled it’s way to your lips thinking of how you would collapse next to him and be enveloped by the smell that could be described only as Harry that filled your apartment whenever he was there. You hadn’t been with him for long, but you knew you never wanted to be without him again.

Miss you. Be home soon :), you typed out to him and pressed send before your phone was ripped out of your hands by familiarly manicured fingertips. Your objections were met with laughter and playful scolding from your friend, Sarah.

“No more phone!” she giggled, slipping your device into her own back pocket. “More dancing and drinking,” she insisted, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the depths of the red velvet booth. She held her iron grip on your hand as you were dragged through the cramped dance floor to the long bar. Soon shots were placed in your hands of some clear foul smelling liquid that Sarah assured you ‘didn’t burn too bad.’ On the count of three, you found out your friend was a dirty good-for-nothing liar and the fiery alcohol slid it’s way down your throat, feeling it’s intoxicating effects only minutes later.

Dancing didn’t sound too bad anymore. Dancing actually sounded great. And dance you did. You felt your normally self conscious and slightly awkward self melt away as it always did when you had a couple drinks in you and you had the time of your life. When the club turned its lights up, the universal sign of ‘get the fuck out,’ your friends piled into the back of your designated driver’s car. You were usually DD, but you were glad you passed up the opportunity for once.

“There’s my man!” you shouted out the back window as you pulled up to the apartment building, finding Harry waiting for you, leaning against the front doors. He loved it when you called him ‘your man;’ letting out a light chuckle but fighting a blush from finding its way to his face in front of the gaggle of girls. He looked sleepy, understandable since it was nearly 3am, but a smile didn’t leave his lips as he gently rubbed his eyes.

“Hi my girl,” his voice graveled back, thick with the sound of sleep. Clumsily climbing out of the back seat, you wobbled your way to his waiting arms, finally feeling steady supported by his firm hold on your waist.

“I missed you,” you whispered, only stumbling over your words a little and puckering your lips slightly, silently asking for a kiss. You watched his eyes flicker quickly up at the watching car full of your closest friends before giving into your request. When your lips met, you were cheered on by a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs,’ your girlfriends determined to embarrass you both. You pressed your now pink cheek to his chest as you waved your friends off into the night, saying your goodbyes and feeling a light peck to the top of your head.

“Come on, let's get you upstairs party girl,” Harry spoke softly, his hand securely wrapped around you and a finger hooked into your jeans’ belt loop, steadying your slightly swaying body. The elevator ride up to your apartment was short, filled with your drunken blabbering about whatever came to mind; topics varying from how soft your kitten was to how bad you wanted to eat the tub of cookie dough in the back of your fridge. Your thoughts were met with sleepy chuckles and his adoring gaze.

Walking inside your home, after a considerable fight with your key, you surveyed the sleeping animals curled up into their beds and raised their heads for only a moment before they deemed sleep more important than their mother. Looking around your cramped living room, you were greeted with a spotless apartment, far cleaner than when you left it for your night of mayhem. “Oh, you didn’t,” you accused as your shocked face met his smug one.

“I got a little bored and I thought it would be nice for you to come home to a clean house,” he smiled. Throw pillows were set on the couch in perfect alignment, tops and bottoms of potential outfits you had chosen from had long been folded and put away, and your carpet looked fluffier like it was freshly vacuumed. “There's also something for you in the kitchen.”

A whisper of ‘oh my goodness’ left your lips when you saw the plate of chocolate chip cookies sitting on your counter in the tiny kitchen. You were an emotional drunk and you didn’t even know you were crying until Harry wiped your tears away.

“You didn't have to do all of this for me,” you whimpered as he pulled you into another hug, leaning up against his warm frame to balance your own.

“I wanted too,” he assured you tenderly. “You know my love language is acts of service, or at least that’s what you told me it was,” he said, your head vibrating from the laugher in his chest.

Harry made you feel loved more than anything else in your relationship. You had only been together for a few months and they had been some of the happiest of your life. You two had met in a bookstore, however chiche it was, and had gotten coffee together. It was your treat (gift giving was your own love language) and very soon after you decided you never wanted to live a life without him in it. You loved him and you knew it, but you had not reached the point in your relationship where you were ready to tell him that. You hoped the gifts you brought nearly every time you saw him were already doing that for you.

You had never been in a relationship that you saw a clear future in. Sure, there were a few people here and there but you had always been known as the single friend. The friend that would always lend an ear, give unfounded relationship advice, and curse exes until they evenvitabily got back together.

Everything about Harry was different. You had met your match. You could spend days on end curled in each other's arms, only leaving your bed to grab snacks, and never run out of topics to discuss or want some time apart. You talked about your careers (he was a middle school music teacher and you were a law student), the meaning of life, childhood memories, your favorite colors, and so on. It was all just so easy with him.

He was also the first man you had ever been fully comfortable with. Overtime, your walls came down (or he knocked out a couple bricks and stuck in), and your usually self conscious demeanor began to twist into this new and improved version of yourself. Even if down the line you and Harry went your separate ways, you knew you would be better for knowing him.

You were brought out of your adoring haze when Harry asked if you needed help getting into pajamas. You agreed, knowing that getting you out of those jeans was going to be a two person job.

Soon you were laying back on your (now perfectly made) bed, naked from the waist up; both of you fighting with the skin tight fabric, your inebriated hands being absolutely no help to the efforts. Your body shook with giggles watching your saint of a boyfriend tug on each leg of your pants, willing them to move, as he swore about how he was going to have to cut you out of them.

“Your neighbors are going to think we're going to town on each other,” he grumbled as he inched them down your legs.

“Nothing out of the ordinary then,” you laughed and wiggled your legs when you were finally free from their hold.

“I’m assuming you want this?” he asked, moving to take off his large tshirt, revealing first his ferns, then his butterfly, and then your favorite little swallows. After a feverish nod, you lifted your hands up and he slipped his shirt onto your smaller frame, enveloping you in the soft fabric and your favorite smell in the world.

“Smells like home,” you mumble while burying your nose in the fabric, unsure if he heard you.

“Oi, you’re going to stain it with your makeup,” he scolded. “Let’s get all that off.”

Sitting you down on the edge of the tub, you watched as he shuffled around the bathroom, frequently looking back to your face to examine his task. He looked at you like your face of makeup was a puzzle to be solved or a mountain to scale.

“I can just sleep in it and deal with it in the morning,” you said in between bites of the chocolate chip cookie you had stolen off the kitchen counter.

“We both know I’ll get in trouble if I let you sleep in it.”

“Probably,” you shrugged without paying much attention to him, mainly enamored by the cookie that was beginning to disappear.

Kneeling down in front of you, wielding a wash cloth soaked in makeup remover, Harry began to softly rub at your makeup. His touch was delicate and tender, careful not to get any in your eyes or hair line. He took his time, moving in soft circles, cleaning away the mask you had put on for the occasion. His breath handed softly on your face and you scanned his face, appreciating this time to take him in.

He was so beautiful. His eyebrows were gently brought together and his tongue would swipe over his lips every so often in focus. His eyes were deep and green, flecked with brown and blue, and framed by long black eyelashes you would kill for. Your eyes swiped around his face connecting his constellation of freckles and you reached up to brush your hands against the light stubble that had begun to show against his jaw line. You let your hand fall to his bare shoulder, stabilizing yourself against his strong build. His skin was soft and tan and perfect.

Your lips had a mind of your own when you said it. A verbalized moment of sheer honesty and adoration. You didn’t mean to say it. It just slipped out.

“I love you, H.”

You could take it back, but that would be lying and probably hurt his feelings. You could double down and keep talking, but your hazy thoughts couldn’t come up with anything else to say at the moment. Your third option was saying nothing. You picked the third.

He paused for a moment when he processed what you said, his eyebrows shooting up and giving you an amused look. A closed lipped grin played on his lips and he continued on with his task, wringing out the towel over the tub and going back in to dry your face.

If you had been sober, you would have absolutely panicked. You would have run out of the bathroom and buried yourself under your sheets, embarrassed of what you just did. But you were hanging on for dear life to your buzz, pretending like everything was perfectly peachy and you didn’t just accidentally tell your boyfriend of only a few months that you loved him.

“That’s good. Because I love you too,” he beamed, all exhaustion gone from his voice.

Hope you liked it as much as I loved writing it :) My ask box is open with any feedback you may have!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #harry fluff #fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #one direction fan fiction #harry styles fan fiction #my writing

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Yours Truly (Pt. 1)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: ~ Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Pining, Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I finally have a few days off, so we're back to our (semi) regularly scheduled programming with this fic! I really hope you enjoy it; lmk what you think :)

PS ~ Once again, I had to split it into two parts to appease the Tumblr Overlords.

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 2 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

1.) A Day In Class

Where does true beauty come from?

Is it strictly based in someone's DNA, rooted entirely in the attractiveness of their features? Or is deeper than that; does it extend from their soul? The very essence of stardust and personality that makes them them? Is it in how they interact with others? How they carry themselves?

You, being the wannabe philosopher that you are, love hearing people's answers to those questions. Every response is unique in its own way, altered depending on the person asked, and you find that to be one of humanity's most wonderful qualities. Like snowflakes, we're all different; as such is our definition of beauty. It lies in the eye of the beholder, subjective in its nature, and you find that comforting. Just think: if 99% of the world's population found you unattractive, 78,000,000 would beg to differ.

Though, for one person, you're sure those rules don't apply. She's objectively beautiful, and no one even attempts to pretend otherwise.

Who, you may ask? Kim Jisoo, of course -- head of your school's student council, resident girl next door, and keeper of your heart. She's poised in every way, and refined to the point that you question if you're even deserving of knowing her. Humor and kindness radiate from her no matter where she goes, so it's really no surprise that so many people love her.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to look at your best friend. "Yo, Y/N. What did you get for number 32?" Jeong asks from his seat in the row directly behind you, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Your history professor likely wouldn't take kindly to being interrupted during his lecture, so you choose to show him your answer instead of responding out loud.

Jeong thanks you and continues to work on the activity you finished nearly 15 minutes ago, leaving you to half-heartedly listen to your professor. You're a good student, but even you have a limit to how much monotonous speaking you can handle in one sitting. As his words drone on, you roll your neck -- intending for the action to relieve some of the tension in your aching muscles; you're in for a surprise, however, when you lock eyes with none other than Jisoo herself. She offers a warm smile and wave, and the innocent actions send swarms of butterflies to take flight in your stomach. After sitting there for a moment, dumbstruck by her beauty, you snap to and return the gesture, making her giggle quietly.

Huh. So that's what angels sound like, then.

She turns back to her work after a minute, flipping the page every so often as she follows along with the lesson. You take note of how her eyes dart across the materials laid out on her desk, how her fingers mindlessly flirt with the edge of her sleeve in contemplation when she gets to a question that stumps her.

Never have you ever found yourself in such inner turmoil before. The sight before you begs to be seen -- to be admired -- but class continues on. As much as you try to fight it, your resolve eventually crumbles; foreign concepts now falling on fully deaf ears, you allow yourself to be entranced.

2.) Out In The Square

A Few Hours Later

Throngs of people stretch out before you, everyone making their way to various parts of campus as the blazingly hot sun beats down on them. Some run like their lives depend on it -- likely having overslept or missed campus transit -- while others take their time, catching up with friends and gossiping all the while. The soft pfft of sprinklers set up across the sections of lawn around you can be heard, going off every so often, and occasionally they're followed by the shouts of some unfortunate people getting soaked.

"You're so lucky, Y/N," Jeong groans from behind you. A grimace sits on his face as he flips through the pages of his Trigonometry book, looking for the reference graphs again. "No more classes for the rest of the week and you don't have any more assignments to finish? Remind me again how to become a teacher's pet, please." You roll your eyes with an amused smile, leaning back on your elbows to talk to him.

"I'm not a teacher's pet, Jeong. I just do my work on time instead of partying every night." He picks up a leftover piece of bread from the picnic basket that sits to his right and tosses it at you in retaliation to your little remark.

"I don't care what you say, those parties are always epic. One of these days I'll convince you to come along."

You shake your head, knowing there's no way you'd willingly attend one of them. From his stories, all those "epic" nights consist of is ridiculously drunken beer pong, sweaty people doing jello shots, and regrets.

"Not in a million years, loser." You say adamantly, not letting him trick himself into believing he's capable of swaying you.

With one last muttered phrase of, "we'll see about that," he returns to his studies, and you turn your attention elsewhere.

Scattered light filters in through the leaves of the tree you're sitting under, wrapping you in a blanket of warmth as your eyes scan across the crowd again. The sight brings to mind an idea that always fascinates you: everyone you meet is busy creating their own stories, writing and rewriting new possibilities and endings for themselves with each new choice they make. You can hear snippets of their conversations -- see instances of some having their best days while others are living through their worst -- and it really puts things into perspective. Although we may appear as side characters in those books of life that others are writing for themselves, we have no idea what they're going through at any given moment. So, you believe, that makes it all the more important to leave a positive impact on them; whether it be a kind smile, holding the door, or even a simple compliment, you're determined to have your legacy be one rooted in kindness.

Speaking of kindness in human form…

There she is, you think to yourself, feeling that all too familiar pitter patter of your heart pick up. Jisoo exits Building C, where her latest lecture just ended, and rushes down the stairs with her books in her arms. She's studying to become an actress, as far as you know, and you can't help but smile at the thought; she'll make an amazing star someday.

You watch as she meets up with 3 other girls, whom you immediately recognize as Lisa, Rosé, and Jennie, and they eagerly bounce their way over to the refreshment truck that one of your school's clubs had been so considerate to hire. It's the perfect day for a cold treat, after all.

Jisoo's dark hair flows in the gentle breeze that rolls in, looking like silk as it rides the currents. She's gorgeous in every way, and you can't help but be smitten; besides, it's not like you're not alone in your pining. She practically has the entire student body wrapped around her finger.

"Y/N, don't forget to blink. You're staring pretty hard," Yuqi says, raising up onto her elbow beside Jeong. He laughs with her, but his eyes remain glued to the notebook paper he's scribbling his work onto.

Your eyes dart away following her statement, and you know you've been caught. "I thought you were asleep," you bite back, attempting to hide the blush of embarrassment that's quickly flooding to your cheeks.

"I was, but I guess my intuition as your best friend woke me up. It's my mission in life to tease you."

"So I've gathered," you sarcastically smile at each other, making stupid faces like always.

"You love me," she flips her hair over her shoulder, appearing self-assured with the smirk that tugs at her lips.

"Do I though? I don't know sometimes..." she socks you in the arm, making you chuckle.

"All jokes, babe. Don't pout," you pinch her cheek until she grins, and then she begins telling you all about the dream she just had.

----

Jisoo leads her gang over to one of the nearby tables, making sure to choose her seat strategically. A special someone caught her attention earlier, as they have from the moment she first laid eyes on them months ago, and she hasn't been able to fight the urge to admire them. She watches as they laugh along with something their friend said, tilting their head back as the cheerful noise rings out. She finds herself smiling along, imagining what it would be like to make them laugh like that; it's a uniquely wonderful sound, and she can't help but adore it.

They lean across the blanket they're sitting on and dig through a picnic basket, retrieving what seems to be a sandwich packaged up in plastic wrap. One of their friends exaggeratedly thanks them, tackling them to the ground in a messy hug with a shout of gratitude that even Jisoo can hear from across the square.

"Earth to Jisoo!" Jennie says, raising her voice slightly as she snaps her fingers in front of the unnie. The former jolts back to attention with a little jump, clearing her throat to gather her thoughts.

"You know, you could always go talk to him. I've heard he's sweet." She tells the other girl, noticing the look of longing that's befallen her features.

"Yeah, Joy has Art with him on Thursdays. I think his name's Jeong or something like that." Lisa butts in before taking another lick of her ice cream.

Despite being so smart, the girls are really oblivious sometimes; Jisoo wasn't looking at him at all. She was looking at you.

She doesn't know if now is the right time to tell them that, though. She hasn't officially come out to them, but she isn't afraid that they won't accept her -- she just wants that moment to be special, and sweating in the middle of the campus square doesn't seem like the golden opportunity that she's been hoping for.

"Just eat your treats, knuckleheads." She concludes, taking a spoonful of the shaved ice she opted for instead of ice cream. The truck had multiple types of treats, with all kinds of different toppings and flavorings lining the walls.

"Okay…" Rosé trails off before adding, "but don't say we didn't try to help when you start wishing you had said something later." Jisoo uses her spoon to lower the one that Rosie had raised accusingly at her, reassuring the girl that she'd be fine.

She knows it's a lie, though; as the 4 of them later toss their trash in the bins and make their way to the student council room, Jisoo sneaks a last wistful glance at you, wishing she would've had the courage to start a conversation.

3.) One Step Closer

Friday, 1:34 PM -- A Few Days Later

"Hey, Minji. How many do we have today?" You wave at what kids have already been dropped off, your presence making their little faces light up with joy.

Your coworker responds from across the room, tossing a couple stray toys into their labeled baskets to keep the space tidy. "10 or so, I think. The last ones should be arriving soon." You nod and take off your coat, setting your things in one of the small cubbies against the wall just beyond the entrance.

"Y/N!" A small voice shouts from behind the counter, hidden from view. You smile deeply when you realize who it is, and you quickly dart around the corner to say hello. His chubby hands cover his mouth, but they do little in hiding his adorable grin. "Seungbum! How's my little munchkin?!" He squeals and runs into your arms, giggling loudly when you pick him up and spin him around. His dark hair sways from side to side with the movement, the slight waves sticking out in random places. A few seconds later, he wraps his arms around your neck and pulls back to look at you, settling into your secure hold.

"Can we play when Jia gets here? I promised her I'd show her the new trick I learned, but I wanna show you, too."

You smile at the sweet sentiment. "Of course, buddy. As long as you eat well at snack time, we can play however much you want." You raise an eyebrow at him, showing your authority, before saying, "I saw you put your veggies in your pocket last time and skip to dessert, so it'd better not happen again." He lowers his head after realizing he had been caught, and a hint of redness flushes his cheeks in embarrassment.

"Okay Y/N-yah."

You tickle him to make sure he knows you aren't mad at him, and soon he's laughing again. "Now, go wash your hands and get settled at the table, please."

"Yes ma'am." His tiny sneakers squeak against the floor as he races off towards one of the lowered sinks that borders the kitchen wall, and you shake your head with a smile.

Not even a second later, you feel a soft tug at your pant leg, and you turn around to find the source.

A head of brilliantly auburn hair is the first thing you see, and its shade compliments the child's outfit perfectly. "Hi sweetheart. Are you new?" You squat down to the young girl's level, noting how she shyly toys with her fingers as they rest in front of her. She nods, the movement so subtle that you almost don't notice it.

"My name's Y/N, and that awesome lady over there," you lean closer to her and point towards your coworker, "...is Minji. You can stay with us today, or you can play with the others, okay?" She nods again, her mannerisms letting you know just how shy she really is. Gently taking one of her hands, you hold it and look at her with a reassuring smile, asking, "Will you tell me your name?"

"I'm Aera." She meekly says, only maintaining eye contact for a second or two.

"That's a beautiful name," you compliment, seeing progress as she lightly smiles at your words. "And I love your bow," you add, touching the delicate material that rests near her ear, nestled into her straight locks. It has cherry blossoms and butterflies on it, all vibrant and neatly colored.

"Thank you, I picked it out myself." She perks up a bit now, raising her head to look at you with a proud smile. "Wow, really?" You put on an impressed expression, wanting to boost her confidence even more. "You'll have to help me choose one the next time I go shopping, then. You're great at it." The praise makes her chuckle, and her eyes squint into soft crescents in the process.

After stealing a glance at the table where everyone else has already gathered, you realize that they're waiting on you to start. "Alright, Aera, it's time to grab a bite to eat. Do you want to sit with me, or are you ready to be with the others?" You tilt your head to the side, asking the question softly so she doesn't feel overwhelmed. Having had this job for a while, you've gotten the hang of adjusting your behavior to put them at ease.

"With you," she says, growing a little timid again at the idea of mingling with them yet. "That's perfectly fine." You reassure her, smiling one more time before standing and leading her to the room. Her hand remains clutched in yours, wiggling around slightly from the height difference as she looks around.

"Who's ready for some snacks?" Minji asks the group, laughing when they all raise their hands and get excited. Their high pitched voices carry around the room as they discuss what foods they want to trade with each other, and soon everyone is happily munching away. You rub Aera's back sweetly as she eats some cucumber sticks, swinging her feet through the air beneath the short chair you retrieved from the table for her. She looks up into your eyes with a smile, melting your heart with the cuteness of her full cheeks. You squish them before turning away, feeling your 6th sense kick in as you scan your eyes across the rest of the group.

"Seungbum…" you warn, catching the way he's mischievously eyeing the carrots laid out before him on the table. He pokes at one of them and sighs, eventually giving in as he takes a hesitant bite of it. With some more convincing, he finishes the rest of the pack and gets started on his dessert.

----

Honestly, you feel sorry for the birds outside.

They must have had hundreds of mini heart attacks upon hearing the somehow earth-shattering roar of the 10 young kids, all blasting out the side door towards the playground. Some of them automatically race towards the swings or slides, while others approach the basket of toys and sports equipment. Aera, however, hangs back, her entire hand wrapped around just a few of your fingers. "What do you wanna do?" She shrugs, looking around at the different activities that the others are already starting.

"I can push you on the swings, or we could race. There're some monkey bars and a merry-go-round, too, that nobody's using right now." You suggest, hoping to catch her interest with one of them. Her attention snaps up to you at that last option, and she dramatically drops her jaw. "Did you say merry-go-round?" You nod with an amused grin, laughing when she lets out a cute noise of joy. After pointing her in the direction of it, she dashes off ahead of you and makes her way to it, only stopping to make sure you're still coming with her once she gets there.

"Hold on tight, little one." You advise, cheering when she giggles in anticipation. Her chuckles fill the airwaves as you spin the bar around, making sure not to pull too hard and make her too dizzy. You were once a kid, too, though, so you make it a point to add some serious speed every now and then to keep her entertained and happy. You remember playing on these all day when you were her age.

---

"Auntie!" Aera shrieks, excitedly thundering towards the fence that borders the playground. You finish cheering Seungbum on after watching his trick, grinning as he tries to flirt with Jia; she looks impressed. You turn around at Aera's commotion, feeling your eyes practically pop out of your head at who you see standing on the other side.

"How was your day, my love?" Jisoo asks sweetly, leaning over the metal divider to run a hand through her niece's hair lovingly. She still hasn't noticed your presence, and for that you don't know if you're relieved or saddened. Watching her interact with the young girl is quite adorable, though, and you're distracted from your personal gay panic for the time being.

"I've had so much fun. And Y/N-yah said she likes my hair clip! I told you this one was prettier than the one with just trees on it!" Aera says smugly, happy to have her decision pay off and prove her aunt wrong. Jisoo tenses up, not expecting to hear your name right now. Seeing that this is her first time picking Aera up, she had no idea you work at the daycare; though she'd be lying to say that it comes as a surprise -- you're a very warm person, so it's no wonder that you're good with kids.

As per Aera's request, you walk across the playground and join her in front of Jisoo. Now it's your turn to be shy; you sneak a glance at the student council president and immediately feel your cheeks heat up, so you busy yourself by patting Aera on the head. She hugs your leg and settles against your side, causing Jisoo to raise her eyebrows. "I'm impressed, Y/N. She usually doesn't open up to new people very easily."

"Ah, I'm surprised that such a cool girl like her wanted to hang out with me." You tease, tickling her side lightly when she hides behind the material of your shirt. "Do you want to come in and see what she drew today? She's definitely skilled." You suggest, trying not to sound too hopeful as you muster up the courage to look at Jisoo again. She's already smiling at you, a soft sort of adoration shining in her eyes as they rake over your features. She accepts your offer, and you walk over to the gate to let her in. Aera demands that you carry her, so you scoop her up into your arms as you make your way back into the daycare center. Her head sits on your shoulder, and you can feel her playfully making faces at Jisoo the entire way; her tiny frame jolts with each loud giggle she lets out, and the sound makes you smile.

---

"Yeah, she was my sidekick for the day." You respond to Jisoo, continuing your conversation as you watch Aera remove her drawing from the cork board that she taped it to earlier. Displaying the kids' artwork is something that you advocated for when you first began working here, and you're so glad you did; they always get excited to share their works.

"She's a lucky girl, then." She says, doing her best to ignore the feeling of your eyes on her. Focusing on anything other than you is already hard enough for her, but she knows there'd be no hope left if she gives in now.

"Y/N helped me draw this. She doodled Dalgom in the corner," Aera cheerily says, breaking the slight tension in the air as she approaches the table. Most of the other kids have already been picked up, and Minji's watching the handful that haven't.

"It's not very good," you cringe, scratching the back of your neck. You've seen him a few times since the beginning of the year, whether it be on walks across campus with Jisoo, or perched on her desk during "bring your pet to class" day.

"It's adorable; Dalgomie will be honored when I show it to him." Jisoo says with a nod, shutting down your insecurities within a second. You fail to contain the laugh that slips past your lips, disbelief present in your voice as you ask, "You're going to show him?" She looks at you like you have 3 heads. "It would be a disgrace not to."

With a breathy chuckle, you say, "You're so strange. I like it, though."

Jisoo smiles at that, and the three of you discuss all of the fun things you did that day. Jisoo tells you about the classes she had to sit through, and even how she stepped in gum and had to borrow a pair of Rosé's shoes.

---

All good things must come to an end, though, and after about half an hour of talking, it was time to say goodbye.

You lead them out the door and down the sidewalk as per Aera's request, yet again (that child is basically a mini dictator at this point, but she's cute so she gets a free pass). As she rustles around her bag in search of her keys, Jisoo accidentally knocks her earbud case out, sending it tumbling to the ground. "Oh! Here, I'll grab it for you." You kindly offer, stepping past her to retrieve it from the grass. She takes it from you with a word of gratitude uttered in that angelic voice of hers, and you begin your goodbyes upon hearing Minji call your name.

"I'll see you around, Jisoo. And Aera, I expect to see you next week." You wiggle a finger at the little girl, donning a shocked expression when she pretends to bite it. "Can't you tell we're related?" Jisoo asks with a smile, ruffling her niece's hair. "The resemblance is uncanny," you laugh, watching as both of them join in with you.

"Y/N, come on!" Minji whines, sounding like a toddler herself. You initially go to brush off her request in order to spend a few more seconds with the two of them, but when she stands in the doorway, entering your line of sight, you see why she's so desperate for your help -- two of the children still waiting on their parents are climbing on her, about to knock her over at any second. Her face is beet red from the effort she's exerting, and her hair is mussed wildly.

"Oh shhh---" you start, catching yourself when Jisoo widens her eyes at you and goes to cover Aera's ears, "--shiitake mushrooms!" You finish with a nervous smile, gaining a stunned laugh from your crush. "Bye girls; gotta go. I'm on my way, Minji!" You call out like a superhero, running to her aid as fast as your legs will carry you.

Jisoo watches you wrangle one of the squirmy kids off of her and initiate a tickle fight to distract him and give Minji time to deal with the other one. She smiles like a dork at your actions, realizing she would be content with watching you all day. You're a natural with them, and seeing you in action is something she wishes she had the chance to do more often. With that, she turns around and picks Aera up; the youngster nuzzles into her embrace, lazily slumping onto her after having such a tiring day. As Jisoo goes to take a step forward, she notices something on the ground: a piece of paper. It's been folded neatly many times, and it reminds her of the notes she would always pass to her friends back in elementary school. Her curiosity gets the better of her, and she can't resist the urge to pick it up.

"To The Girl Who'll Never Know I Love Her"

Her eyes scan across the words and she unfolds the note, making sure to keep a steady grip on Aera with her other arm. An almost unnoticeable signature is scribbled in the bottom corner, and she nearly scares Aera by squealing in pleasant surprise.

It's your name, curled into the letters that are so uniquely yours; the paper must've fallen out of your pocket when you bent down to get her case earlier.

After buckling her niece into her car seat and climbing into the driver's seat, Jisoo unfolds the note again and begins reading. She's like a giddy kid all over again, and part of her feels bad for giving into temptation. She reasons with herself by promising to give it back to you the next time she sees you, and that manages to rid her conscience of some of the guilt she feels. For now, though, she's eager to see what it contains.

The first thing to catch her eye is a poem written neatly underneath a doodle of a rabbit, likely serving as some sort of label. Everyone on campus knows of her nickname and resemblance to rabbits, and she can't help but hope that your drawing wasn't simply a coincidence.

Poison, is what you are

A bittersweet mix, intoxicatingly beautiful

For one glance from you

Steals every breath I had so foolishly believed was mine to take

For one smile from you

Sends me reeling, falling all over again

She nearly swoons at the words, rereading them multiple times over and imagining you saying them to her. She wonders how the syllables would fall from your lips, which ones you'd stress to alter the meaning into whatever you imagined when you wrote them. Whether or not they're written for her, she may never know; all she's aware of right now is how they make her feel, and how that feeling is one that she never wants to stop experiencing.

4.) Practice Makes Perfect

2 Weeks, 3 Exams, and 1 Mental Breakdown Later

"Coming!" You call out, using all of your strength to push your rolling chair away from your desk and across the room towards the door.

"Y/N L/N, at your service," you say, doing a little bow in your seat. Upon looking up to see who's in front of you, your eyes lock with the same girl who's been living in your mind rent free ever since you met her.

"Jisoo!" You announce a little louder than intended, scrambling up into a standing position before kicking the chair backwards. You wince when it collides with something behind you, filling the room with noise as a few of your knick knacks clatter to the floor. Jisoo has to fight to contain the smile on her lips, pursing them as she looks towards the ground so as to not embarrass you.

It's too late though -- you've already made a fool of yourself, and right in front of your crush, no less.

"What can I do for you?" You ask, finally relaxing your face from its previously scrunched up position.

"Are you busy right now? I have a favor to ask and you might be the only person who can help me out." Her eyebrows raise inquisitively at you, quirking up in that special way they always do when she's focusing in class.

She could ask you to do just about anything, and you'd be agreeing without hesitation; no questions asked.

"N-no, just doing a little studying is all. How can I help?" You'd normally curse yourself for sounding so shy, but she looks especially gorgeous tonight and you can't even blame yourself for it. The fluorescent bulbs of the dorm's hallway fail to even put a dent in the glow she's radiating, and that's no small feat -- those horrible little things are usually capable of making anyone look bad, and yet, once again, Jisoo manages to break the mold.

"Mrs. Choi assigned a rehearsal for me tonight, and I need a peer to score how well I do. I trust you to do it." She says, having no idea how much her words are affecting you.

Review portions of the semester are crucial to every major's success, but arguably none so much as those studying to be actors. The peer and admin reviews that they receive account for a large chunk of their grade, so you can imagine how nerve-racking it would be to put that kind of power in someone else's hands. You're touched that she trusts you with it.

"I'd love to help, Jisoo. Just curious, though: why don't you have one of the girls help? They probably know more about it than me, after all." Everyone knows how close JenChuLiChaeng are, so her decision to choose you is genuinely intriguing.

Shit. For some reason, Jisoo hadn't anticipated that you'd ask that question. The thought had never crossed her mind earlier, when she was preoccupied with convincing herself to come in the first place, so she has to think something up on the fly.

"They're all busy with work. Couldn't afford to lose any precious cramming time, you know?" She says, a hint of nervousness behind the small laugh she lets out. It's uncharacteristic for her, considering she's usually so confident all the time, but you think it's adorable.

"Ryujin's the same way," you tease, turning your head to look at your roommate. She's across the room on her bed, reading through her book as she holds her middle finger up to let you know she heard your comment. "What a sweetie," you coo, blowing a kiss at her that makes her roll her eyes and smile despite herself. She pretends to be hardcore, but after spending the past few months with her you've discovered that she's actually the human embodiment of a cinnamon roll.

"Well," you say, turning back to Jisoo, "when do you have to start?"

She pulls her sleeve back to glance at her watch before returning her gaze to you. "Gotta be back at the dorm in 10 minutes."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, the inner honor student in you already panicking. "10 minutes?! It's all the way across campus, Jisoo!"

She laughs at you now, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. "I'm kidding; we still have a couple hours. You should've seen your face, though. Priceless."

"That's no way to treat someone who practically has your grade resting in their hands." You say smugly, a little smirk playing on your lips when her jaw drops dramatically.

"You wouldn't dare," she narrows her eyes, referencing the notion that you might give her bad marks because of that little prank.

"Maybe, or maybe not. Perhaps I'll be merciful if you take me to get something to eat first."

"Food as a peace offering? Alright, I can do that."

You smile, doing a dorky little cheer at that. "Okay, I'll be right out; just give me a second to make myself look presentable."

Jisoo accepts your words with a curt nod, but she wants to tell you that you already look more than presentable. When you first opened the door earlier and she saw you in your study glasses, she couldn't help but smile like a fool; you're adorable, especially to her, and she wishes you could see that.

A couple minutes later you exit your dorm and find her leaned up against the hallway wall, her hands fidgeting in front of her. Is she nervous?

"So, where would you like to go?" You ask, pulling the thin material of your jacket over your shoulders. It's lightweight -- seeing as how the weather doesn't call for a large one -- and it feels soft against your skin.

As the two of you fall into step with each other, she responds, "It's up to you, princess. Since I'm at your mercy and all." Her smirk is visible in your peripheral.

The nickname causes your heart to flutter in your chest, thudding around even harder than it had before. "U-uh, how about the noodle place?" You suggest, trying not to cringe at the stutter in your voice. You've heard that she likes chicken and ramen, and that shop is known as the best restaurant on campus for it.

"110%. You know me so well," she says dreamily, batting her eyelashes at you with a silly smile.

"Called it," you retort, brushing your shoulder off nonchalantly. "Now come on, I'm hungry and ready to spend all of your money." Her hand slips into yours when you reach down for it, almost instinctively, feeling like it was meant to be there all along, and you tug her down the hallway towards the elevator.

----

"I know! If Mr. Johnson assigns another project like that then I'll politely be jumping out a window."

Jisoo laughs at how animated you are, even having to stop chewing her mouthful of food momentarily to make sure she doesn't choke. She really loves hanging out with you; you make everything fun, and all of the stress she feels on a daily basis seems to vanish into thin air.

"I did pretty bad on that last one," Jisoo adds, grimacing as she remembers her score.

"You literally got a 93 out of 100, shut up." You shake your head with an amused smile, reaching across the table to snatch a piece of gimbap from her plate.

"Hey--" she goes to yell at you, but her phone vibrates against the table, successfully stopping her.

"Hello?" She answers, silently starting a chopstick war with you when you reach for another piece. When the person on the other end begins talking, she stops playing in order to concentrate on what they're saying.

"Did she cancel?" She asks, furrowing her brow as her lips form into a natural pout. She sighs, rubbing her temple gently as the conversation continues. "Okay, I'm out with a friend right now, but you can go ahead and head that way. We'll meet you there. Alright, love you, too. Bye."

You raise an eyebrow, wordlessly requesting info about what new plan you're being involved in. "That was my brother; the babysitter cancelled on them last minute, so we have to watch Aera for a few hours." Jisoo loves her niece dearly, but she can't deny that she wanted to spend the evening alone with you. She's afraid the little girl will steal all of your attention away, as childish as that may seem.

"You're such a good person," you compliment, only to frown when she brushes off your words. "I mean it, Jisoo. You always take care of everybody around you; it's admirable. Now take the compliment or I'll team up with Aera later and tease you."

She rolls her eyes with a smile, saying, "You're gonna do that regardless."

"That's not the point," you pout, stomping your foot on the ground lightly.

"Fine; tis I, Jisoo, the greatest person in all of existence. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." You beam at her, returning back to your cheery self. "I'll go grab some boxes for us, okay?" She nods, and you scurry off on your mission.

----

Back At Jisoo's Dorm

Images flash across the large, flatscreen TV mounted to the wall across from you, displaying scenes of whatever cartoon the network decided to air right now. Aera isn't being picky; she's content with sitting in your lap, mindlessly fidgeting with the necklace that loosely dangles from your neck as she remains entranced by the screen. Your arms are around her to make her feel secure, and her small frame racks against you with every sweet giggle she lets out anytime a new joke is told by one of her favorite characters.

Jisoo observes from the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop to settle in while she waits for Aera's favorite snack to heat up. She watches as you point to various things on the TV, having her name the ones she knows and teaching her others that she doesn't.

She loves seeing you like this. You're beaming in that special way that sets her heart on fire, and the flames are only fanned when you turn to look at her. Somehow, the sight reminds her of the first time she met you:

It was orientation week -- the beginning of the school year -- and you were taking a tour around campus with some of your friends. You were lucky to have them; you'd only kept in contact with a handful of people from high school, knowing full well that most of those relationships were only rooted in superficiality, never meant to last. But this motley crew was different; they saw you for you, and all of you genuinely enjoyed each other's company. It didn't have the same air of awkward tension as the fake friendships had -- this was real and honest, and you thanked your lucky stars for them on the daily.

All of you had managed to get into your dream schools, and the reality was bittersweet; you'd all be moving away from each other and beginning your own lives, having less and less time for each other in the process. You were beyond proud of them, and yourself, for that matter, but it still hurt to think that they wouldn't be just a few blocks away anymore. That you couldn't just swing by their house to go on a late night drive through the city like you used to. As exciting as your new experiences were bound to be, part of you was terrified; your life up until now had been fairly safe, creating a little security blanket to protect you from all that life had in store, but now you were on your own and the idea was a bit daunting. The memories you made together comforted you, though, and kept the sadness at bay.

"Dude, this place is sick. How did you manage to make it in again?"

"Because she's smart, dumbass. We should be asking you that question."

"Ouch, (Friend's Name), that hurt."

"Do you still have those chips from earlier? I'm starving over here."

"Yeah, here, they're in my bag."

Pockets of separate conversations can be heard from behind you, all of your friends chatting away while you walk ahead of them, map and schedule in hand. The campus is fairly large, and with so many buildings and classrooms it's easy to get confused. You continue walking, running a finger along the map to trace the path you intend to take towards the Help Center.

In your preoccupied state, you don't even realize that you're headed straight for a trash can that sits on the sidewalk, mere seconds away from colliding with it.

A passerby notices just in the nick of time, reaching an arm out in front of you to prevent the accident with a noise of warning. You tense up, not expecting the sudden interruption, and look up into the eyes of your savior. Her dark orbs peer back at you, an innocent gleam in them when she sees your lips slowly tug into a smile.

She mirrors your actions, neither of you saying anything yet. You couldn't utter a word even if you wanted to; her beauty leaves you speechless.

"That was close," she says quietly, only to you. Your friends have almost caught up with you now, still busy with their own conversations, though they'll tease you once they see a gorgeous stranger's arm wrapped around you.

"Thank you," you breathe out, clearing your throat as you take a step away from her.

"Ooh, who's this, Y/N?" One of your friends coos, garnering a chorus of childish "oohs" and kissy noises from the others. Why are they so obnoxious?

You apologetically glance at the girl one more time before turning around to respond to them, but she speaks up before you can.

"Kim Jisoo." She introduces, facing them with a wide smile. It's easy to see that she's done this before; her tone is pleasant and light, not even a hint of hesitancy in it. She's used to being the center of attention; you can tell by the way she carries herself and commands the space.

"I see you guys are taking a tour, right?" She looks between all of you, though her eyes linger on you for a second too long to be brushed off as 'just friendly'.

You nod, saying, "I can't find my last class. It's a Gen Ed one; World History, room 435. The map says it's in Complex D, but the room was vacant when we went by."

She listens intently, paying attention to your every word. "They must've handed out the old maps by accident, then. Mr. Johnson had to move rooms to accommodate larger class sizes. When do you have him?"

You unfold your schedule again, gazing down at the slightly crumpled sheet until your eyes find their target. "Tuesdays and Thursdays, 1PM."

Upon registering what you said, Jisoo does her best to contain the grin that threatens to spread across her face. "Ah, same as me! I can take you to the room, if you'd like. That way you can find it next week." She offers, pleased by the fact that she'll be seeing you more often. Your cute mannerisms have already thrown her for a loop, and she wants to get to know you better.

"That would be great." You let out a relieved laugh, releasing the worry you felt; tours are meant to end within 20 minutes or so, and before Jisoo came you were afraid you'd never find your last class. She's saving the day again, it seems.

"Great, follow me," she smiles warmly, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back to turn you in the right direction. When you give your friends one last glance over your shoulder, you find them giving you thumbs up with smirks on their faces. One of them puckers their lips at you, and you stick your tongue out in return.

You're not sure what they'll end up doing while you finish your tour, though it'll likely involve either skating or eating fast food. They have each other to keep themselves entertained, so you're not worried about them in the slightest. You make a mental note to text them when you're done to meet up again.

Jisoo smiles like an idiot when she realizes what's happening behind her, failing miserably to hide it when you spin back around and give your full attention to her.

"What?" You ask, leaning in closer to her to nudge her shoulder when she looks away, blushing.

"Nothing," she shakes her head, only to be prompted by you again. "You're just cute, is all."

You have to use all your power to hold back the squeal you want to let out at hearing that. Kim Jisoo, as you now know her to be, thinks you're cute? You must be dreaming.

"That's funny, I don't remember turning into a mirror."

"Yah, babo!" She chuckles, not expecting that as she smacks the back of your head with no real force. The two of you share a laugh and continue talking while you make your way to the room.

Beeping sounds from the microwave bring Jisoo back down to Earth, causing the pleasant memory to fade more and more with every incessant signal that cuts through the air. She grabs a couple heat guards and approaches the machine, carefully opening the steaming package and pouring its contents into a big, shareable bowl. Though it may be Aera's favorite food, she'd be damned to not make enough for the two of you as well. After all, keeping her entertained will take plenty of energy.

"Did this princess order one heaping bowl of popcorn or am I at the wrong castle?" Jisoo plays, padding into the room with a bright smile on her face as she looks over at her niece. The smell of her snack snaps Aera back to reality, making her eyes light up with pure joy as she leaps off of your lap and runs to Jisoo. She wraps her arms around her legs, thanking her in that sweet little voice of hers as she gazes up at her aunt with stars in her eyes.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She chants, wiggling her body around in excitement. She lets go when Jisoo goes to walk to the couch, following close behind her like an eager puppy.

She approaches you again, making grabby hands for you to lift her onto your lap even though she's more than capable of getting up there by herself. Nevertheless, you pull her up with a humored grin, watching as she puts her hands in her lap and patiently waits for the two of you to get a bite first. Her ability to follow manners is commendable, though the slight twitch of her lip when she gets a whiff of the food is pretty adorable.

"Dig in," you say around your mouthful of food, locking eyes with Jisoo when Aera jumps at the opportunity to follow your instructions. You never have to tell her twice when it comes to food.

"Yep, definitely related."

Jisoo laughs at your comment, reaching over top of Aera to flick you in the forehead. She shrugs at your pained exclamation, uttering a nonchalant "Sorry, not sorry," as the two of you crack up together.

----

"Y/N, how the hell did you manage to do that?" Jisoo whispers, not bothering to censor herself when she sees Aera fast asleep in your arms. It's not like she could hear her anyway.

"She was already kinda tired when she got here; I just made sure to get that last little bit of energy out with the games. Have you forgotten that I know a thing or two about kids?" You tease, turning to her with a smile when you finish walking up the short staircase.

"You don't understand: usually it takes us hours to settle her down. She's just a totally different person around you."

"Must be my awesomeness."

"Hmm, must be," Jisoo hums, quietly opening her bedroom door for you and watching as you carefully lay Aera down. You tuck her under the blankets with care, making sure to brush the hair out of her face and adjust her pillow a bit. Jisoo leans against the doorframe, adding the scene before her to her list of reasons for loving you. Seeing you in such a domestic situation gives her baby fever, and she has to push the persistent feeling away.

"Ready?" You whisper with one last look over your shoulder, giving Jisoo your undivided attention once you confirm that Aera's alright.

"Let's do it," she says, pulling the door to but not latching it. The two of you will be in the living room, just down the hall, and you want to be able to hear her in case she needs something. So responsible.

You take in the dorm as Jisoo leads you towards your destination, amazed at how much bigger it is than yours and Ryujin's. This one has separate rooms equipped with their own personal bathrooms, a decent kitchen, and, of course, a living area. Clearly, having ties to the school and being president of the student council come with some major perks. Your socked feet pad against the hardwood floor, and you close what little distance is left between Jisoo and yourself to press your body against her back, wrapping your arms around her. She lets out a little noise of surprise, but doesn't protest; she tucks one of her hands into your clasped ones and uses the other to rub your forearm.

A few moments later you plop down onto the couch and get comfortable on the cushions. Jisoo digs around in her bag that leans against the tv stand, searching for the script of her upcoming production. Her shirt rides up slightly, giving you a perfect view of her beautifully sculpted stomach, and her skin looks ethereal as it glows in the soft lamplight of the room. Embarrassed for admiring her in such a way, you avert your gaze, failing to notice how she subtly bites her lip as she approaches you; she planned that little show, and it worked.

"Okay, so here's the scoring sheet," she hands you a semi-formal looking paper, along with a pencil and clipboard to use as a stabilizer. "I'll be reading from the first few pages on my own, but I was wondering if you'd fill in for the male lead for some of the other parts? It's a lot easier to get into character if I have someone's energy to feed off of."

You smile at how cute she sounded with her little rambled request, and nod. "Of course, Jisoo. I doubt I'll be any good, though." She releases a sigh at that, happy to have you agree; her plan is coming along nicely, but there's always room for things to go wrong.

"I'm sure you're better than you think."

"Stop sucking up, Chu. Flattery won't make me raise your grade," you warn, pointing the pencil at her sternly. Your tone sends a shiver down her spine, though it goes unnoticed by you.

"Let's just get started." She concludes, doing her best to keep from getting too flustered under your already watchful eye.

----

Her show is well underway, caught somewhere towards the end of act two, and you're enthralled by the performance she's giving. The paper that once rested in your lap is marked up with comments of praise and proud annotations to accompany your high scoring, though now it lays forgotten about on the coffee table, serving no purpose any longer. You finished all of the required sections necessary for your peer review, and now you're just enjoying the journey that Jisoo is continuing to take you on.

You look back up into her eyes after reading off the lines of the character you're filling in for, looking completely unskilled next to the pure talent that she's exuding. She stands from the couch, looking down at you with an exasperated expression as she remains in character.

"You don't get it!" She raises her voice slightly, though not loud enough to wake Aera. Even while in the intense mindset she has to be in for her character, she keeps one foot in the reality of this world, making sure to behave appropriately.

"Enlighten me, then." You stand and retort, shifting a bit closer to her after reciting your line.

"Only when I'm with you do I feel true happiness. Your kind eyes bring me comfort like no other; I'm safe in your arms. For you, my love," she pauses, her eyes brimming with tears from the emotional words she's spent so much time rehearsing. "...there isn't a thing in this world that I wouldn't do." Your breath is held tightly in your throat, and your hands subconsciously grip onto the material of your jeans.

Only now do you realize how close the two of you have migrated to one another; she's merely a breath away, so close you can feel the warmth radiating from her. You swallow thickly, feeling your nerves come alive with every second that passes in heated silence, neither of you knowing what to do now. You've lost the desire to read your next line, and she doesn't seem too upset by that fact. Her eyes slowly scan over your features, and the lovesick look in them makes you question if she's still in character or slipping out of it.

After her gaze darts down to your lips and she licks her own without even realizing it, you seriously begin hoping for the latter of the two options.

She searches your face for any sign of refusal as she leans in closer, now bringing her arms up to wrap around your waist and lightly ball the material of your shirt up into her fists. Your hands rest on her shoulders, and you glide your fingertips over her jawline. A singular nod is the last form of consent that you give her before she pulls you closer.

Her lips ghost over yours, receiving some of the vanilla balm you applied earlier; her breath hitches when you tug at the collar of her university sweater, teasingly taking her bottom lip between your teeth. She wants to savor this moment, so she fights against her urge to dive right in and get lost in you.

Within seconds, she's kicking herself for that decision.

"Auntie? Y/N?" Aera calls sleepily from just around the corner, making the two of you spring away from each other. When she appears less than a second later, you realize how close you had been to getting caught. Jisoo refuses to meet your gaze when you look towards her, and that simple action disheartens you a bit.

"Hey, sweetheart. Bad dream?" You ask, using your inference skills after noticing the way that she's clutching her stuffed bunny close to her chest. Her lip trembles as she nods, and the sight breaks your heart. Quickly, you pick her up again, assuring her that she's safe and that you'd slay any monster that dared to hurt her, even in her dreams. A small smile tugs at her lips, and she brings a fist up to rub her eye. "How about this: I'll do a quadruple check of the room for you, and stay with you until you fall asleep. Sound good?"

She utters a tired, "Yes, Y/N-yah", before laying her head on your shoulder and waving a goodbye towards Jisoo as you take her back to the room.

Four sweeps of the room and one fight with a ghost later, you tuck her in again and lay a sweet kiss to her forehead. "Love you," she mumbles lazily, making your heart melt. Kids say that phrase quickly, without even realizing the weight that it has, but you're always glad to accept whatever they imagine it to be. Whether she loves you for playing with her, tucking her in, or defending her honor against imaginary monsters, you don't really care all that much -- she loves you in the ways that she knows how, and that's all that matters.

"I love you, too, Aera. Sleep well." You tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and settle against the wall, prepared to come through on your promise.

----

"Hey," you start, albeit a bit awkwardly.

"Hey," Jisoo returns, pushing her leftovers from the restaurant around her plate half-heartedly. You approach the marble countertop that she sits behind, silently begging for her to look up at you.

"Should we talk about earlier?" You quietly ask, picking at imaginary imperfections on the surface of the countertop.

"What about it?"

"We practically kissed--"

"It was in the script to do so, Y/N." She says, finally looking up at you. She sounds a bit hostile now, like she's getting defensive for some unknown reason.

"Oh," the simple utterance is all you can manage, seeing as how your brain is running a mile a minute. You want to ask if it meant anything else to her -- if she would've taken it farther, had Aera not walked in -- but you don't. Her tone serves as enough of an answer, and you're not sure you could stand to hear her verbalize your fears anyway.

"Well I guess I should go, then." You retract your hand and put it in your pocket, realizing how stupid you were for thinking she could like you back. She doesn't; she was just in need of a helping hand tonight, and you offered that. You shouldn't have tried to turn it into anything that it wasn't.

Hearing the disappointment in your voice makes her want to confess right then and there, but something still holds her back -- some force is yelling at her to keep her feelings hidden for fear of rejection. "I can drive you."

You shake your head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll have Ryujin come get me. You can't leave Aera here and I wouldn't want to have to wake her up just for you to drive me across campus." Jisoo agrees, realizing that she didn't even think about that at first.

"Goodnight, Jisoo." You say, heading off towards the front door. She returns the gesture, reminding you to be safe as she locks it behind you and watches you dial up your roommate's number. Before long, she pulls into one of the parking spaces in front of the dorm, and the two of you drive away.

Click Here For Part 2

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sonybees · 4 years

Text

random harry potter characters headcanons because i am bored

includes: fred, george, harry, ron, hermione, ginny, luna, seamus, dean, neville, padma, parvati, cedric, angelina, alicia, katie, cho, draco, adrian, blaise, and pansy.

warnings: slight modern!au, swearing, food mention

these are all headcanons i made on the spot so i’m sorry if they suck. i’m just really bored. it is also all over the place. a lot of these are collabs between some characters. i hope you enjoy though!

(by the way, the little dashes are just dividers)

rest under the cut!

fred would dance around his room at 3 am to literally any song.

jazz, classical, rock, metal, pop he does not give a fuck.

he woke up george once by jumping on his bed and playing all star on his electric guitar.

probably a song writer

uses “life is short” as an excuse to act on his bad decisions

dancing in the rain is one of his favorite things to do

sleeps at 3 am or pm, you decide.

hopeless romantic

good old fashioned lover boy by queen is his song

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

george loves birds and bugs. completely unrelated to the last one but it’s true.

saw an injured bird outside his room when he was 5.

he cried and immediately took it in.

also cries when someone kills a bug.

thinks the bug’s family would be angry and disappointed in him.

enjoys painting random objects in his room

loves being called pet names

something like dear, honey, or hubby would make his heart burst

loves using them for his significant other as well

hopeless romantic part 2

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

harry is a night owl and he likes reading comic books.

he likes listening to rock music. i said what i said.

prefers being alone

likes quiet places and probably has a hideout

usually doesn’t understand poetry until he reads it like 20 times

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

ron adores ducks.

tears up when he sees them and always used to beg molly to keep them.

still tears up to this day.

not a big fan of seagulls though

he’s scared of them

but eagles are cool

likes country and rock music

also takes an interest in photography

the breakfast club is his favorite movie

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

hermione loves listening to taylor swift.

reads to her songs always.

ravenclaws save her a special seat in their common room because a lot of them grew quite fond of her

a taste tester for hufflepuffs who go to katie’s lessons you’ll understand this later

she actually enjoys dressing up as well even if there wasn’t an event

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

ginny accompanies dean while he draws.

she just likes looking at other people do what they love so it’s not only dean.

she sometimes zones out looking at hermione read a book, always taking note of the facial expressions and guessing what she just read,

catching harry push his glasses up or cleaning them,

also is with luna every time she paints.

luna has a few artworks with ginny as her muse.

gin likes the simple things in life.

loves board games

sometimes a little too competitive

struts down the hallways with her significant other

she’d never admit it but she loves 10 things i hate about you

has a soft spot for slytherins

luna almost always goes with neville to the gardens.

she helps him with whatever he needs and sometimes draws a few stuff.

she’s a photographer too so she loves waking up early in the morning and taking photos.

amazing at braiding hair

and making flower crowns

likes reading royal fantasy books

watches 10 things i hate about you with ginny

has a soft spot for slytherins

seamus also hangs out with luna sometimes,

talking to each other about whatever.

he thinks she’s interesting and would make great conversations.

she does.

he also took some painting lessons from her

meditates

loves pumpkin juice

likes the movie my girl

has cried more than he will ever admit

has a soft spot for slytherins

dean has a wall in the boys dorm room where he puts up all his drawings.

the guys love it and always just stares at all of them in awe.

they’re all so amazing

is usually the first to notice when someone is sick

takes care of them immediately

loves sweaters

knows how to speak in latin

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

neville goes to hagrid way more often than anyone thought.

he learned how to take care of the creatures, make some awesome tea,

he also sometimes helps hagrid clean his own house.

helps others in herbology

likes green tea

loves overalls

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

padma holds a record of the fastest writer at hogwarts

yeah, she’s amazing at it

ended up publishing her own fantasy book starting at hogwarts

sold out faster than expected

she is also a singer

amazing singer

movie marathons are her thing

prefers crime shows/movies

soft spot for gryffindors

parvati is very very very protective over her sister

does archery and is amazing at it

a very chill person until you mess with her loved ones

loves sixteen candles

adores puppies

watches big bang theory

soft spot for slytherins

cedric plays the piano.

the ravenclaw common room is where the only piano is at hogwarts so he goes there quite often.

everyone loves hearing him play.

other students gather around with their instruments and sing along as well.

wears glasses for reading

netflix type of guy

probably a theatre kid

has a soft spot for gryffindors

angelina also took piano lessons from cedric.

she just asked him one day where he learned it and he said his father taught him and he could tell that she wanted to learn.

so, he offered to teach her.

she was a natural at it and the lessons are always fun, even for the ravenclaws

angelina is also a tutor at hogwarts.

it all started with george and fred and she realized that she actually quite enjoyed it.

all her students love her

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

alicia is always the group leader in every group work she’s ever done.

she’s also usually the main organizer for any event at hogwarts.

she’s usually there with the help of angelina and katie.

they all work very well together

has a soft spot for slytherins

katie has a passion for cooking.

she’s friends with a lot of hufflepuffs and she meets a lot of them by the kitchens.

in there, they watch her cook amazing dishes and baked goods.

she was able to teach a few others how to as well.

the house elves love her.

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

cho has an interest in fashion designing.

mcgonagall found her making a dress once in an empty hallway with some cool music playing.

minnie was amazed.

she was also able to start a fashion club at hogwarts.

luna, katie, dean and a few other were apart of this club as well.

likes pudding as much as luna does

has a soft spot for gryffindors

draco plays the violin.

pretty unexpected to his friends because he never really told anyone til goyle walked in on him playing in his dorm room.

he is actually very good at it.

combs his hair too often

the type to take too long at the water fountain

finishes his water bottle after like less than two hours of getting it

acts ‘ominous’ to the point where it’s funny

soft spot? for ravenclaws

adrian teaches young students how to play quidditch

his favorite color’s green for nature

actually loves reading and writing poetry

“most respectful”

has a soft spot for gryffindors

blaise seems very intimidating but is actually very sweet

shouts at quidditch games (much to everyones surprise)

loves the rain

likes dark academia movies

it’s basically his whole aesthetic

holds a record for most botts beans that fit in the mouth (without puking)

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

pansy has a whole drawer of jewelry as she should honestly

actually soft for cats but it’s not like she’ll ever tell anyone

loves playing with other’s hair

massages her friend’s backs

they do the same for her

a goddess at card games

is actually a gymnast

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

bonuses: george and fred’s favorite movie to watch together is bill and ted’s excellent adventure

all the gryffindors have a movie night at least once a week and others from different houses join along as well

hermione, ginny, luna, parvati, padma, angelina, alicia, katie, and cho have girl nights

the same with the guys though it was quite awkward at first due to draco being there but they eventually warmed up to each other (after like 4 months)

no one really knows how draco and the slytherins even got there but yk

they never tell anyone that they’re comfortable with each other now though

tags: @quadrupledeckertaco @audreysmusings @georgeweasley19 @krasivayadarling @crookedhag

and others who i think would enjoy this: @lunalovecroft @whizboyhalo @darthwheezely @sirlorelai @puntuations @cherryweasleys @amourtentiaa @whatthefuckimbisexual @gredmforge (you don’t have to read if you don’t like!)

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itsuki-minamy · 3 years

Text

GAKUEN K: WONDERFUL SCHOOL DAYS

CHAPTER 3: SUMMER

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: skyflyinginaction

* Gakuen K (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

First day of change of clothes.

The Blue club's summer outfit was refreshingly cool with a light blue shirt, white pants, and a light blue armband.

She was still wearing the summer clothes of a regular student, but she thought it was good. She really admired the Blue club uniform, which had an innocent image.

"It's getting hot."

She walked out the door, down the stairs and toward the Blue club building, looking up at the still high sun and narrowing her eyes.

Her words were thrown at Fushimi who was walking beside her, but she didn't ask for an answer. She didn't care if he ignored her.

Even if she didn't get an answer, Fushimi wasn't angry or upset. In that case, he had no objection, so she felt his silence was like an affirmation.

She thought that she had become a little more familiar with Fushimi in the last two months.

The days were getting longer. It would be even longer from now. Summer is just around the corner.

"Ah?"

Suddenly, Fushimi, who was walking beside her, raised his eyebrows and stopped.

"Hmm? What?"

She took a few steps forward and looked back. Fushimi was looking at the flower bed a little further away.

"What's wrong with you?"

"That side flower bed should have been planted today."

"What, today?"

She rolled his eyes. She walked over to Fushimi and looked at his profile.

"Oh. The flower bed around that area will be a field of sunflowers in the summer."

"Is that so? Ah, but by the way, Awashima-san asked me a week ago to collect the rubbish and pebbles from the flower beds and clean the ground. The spring flowers that had been planted until then, I moved all at once. I see. It was to plant sunflowers. Huh? But wait..."

No matter how she looked at that flower bed, the one that had been planted (although it turned out to be a sunflower) was right up there with her.

She looked at the hordes of greens stretching straight into the sky and then looked back at Fushimi.

"Did you say today?"

"Oh, certainly. Today. This morning."

"It's weird. Everything seems to be high."

"That would be strange. Sunflowers aren't the flowers that bloom in early June in the first place."

Involuntarily they looked at each other.

Certainly strange. Even if today is Fushimi's memory error (although that wouldn't be possible for him alone), he confirms that that flower bed was empty a week ago. Even if she was sowing seeds right after that, it was unusual for it to grow there, she started walking out of nowhere and headed to the front of the flower bed.

It wasn't a mistake, and the sunflowers were catching up with her.

"Is it for you again?"

Perhaps he remembered the harvest. Fushimi looked at her suspiciously.

She shook her head obediently.

"Wow, I don't know, but I just hit the ground a week ago, right?"

"It's early June. So when the flowers bloom, how many meters will it be? 4 meters or 5 meters?"

That scared her.

She imagines a horde of sunflowers, 4 meters and 5 meters long, and her back got sick.

"Well, no way. I think it's growing fast, it won't be huge, maybe."

"Hopefully."

If they had the power to reach 4 or 5 meters, the height would be normal, so she wanted them to flourish more and go in the right direction. Really, the vastness alone was too terrifying.

When she thought that, Fushimi said, "Then include that in your power." It wasn't impossible. Like he said when they weeded, her abilities aren't something she can control. She had not yet reached that stage. To begin with, "What is my ability?", she thought to herself. Was she there to do a test to find out?

She tried to argue for a moment, but she was free to try, and she thought it would be okay to try as much as she could, so she gently touched the sunflower and coughed a little.

"It's fine to be a normal size, so I hope it blooms longer."

As expected, her words would come true.

She was looking forward to summer, although she was a little scared.

++++++++++

The next day. Yesterday she was so worried about the sunflowers that she woke up early in the morning.

A decent breakfast, she got ready and went to school. She was still relatively fresh at the time.

But she will be hot again during the day. Looking up at the high blue sky as if she was passing by, she was able to enjoy it.

"......!"

And then, she found a figure walking from the men's dormitory and stopped.

(Is that…? Fushimi-kun!), she thought.

When she waved her hand, he seemed to notice it, but of course he didn't look back. Well, Fushimi didn't move his hand that way either.

"Good morning."

Waiting for Fushimi, who was walking slowly, he looked at her. There was no answer. But in his case, that was the default.

She started walking side by side without caring about it.

"Perhaps, Fushimi-kun, you are also worried about the sunflowers?"

"No, I always come at this time."

"Huh? Isn't it early?"

"I have a lot to do."

(Ah, in addition to being a student organization officer such as discipline club president, there are also Blue club activities, right, Fushimi-kun?), she thought.

Is it because he was a boring child? He had a weak image in the morning, but that was not the case.

"Ah?"

"What...?"

Suddenly, Fushimi stopped.

She looked at Fushimi, who had a grim expression, and followed the line of sight with her eyes.

And she looked into his eyes too.

"What?"

Far ahead, a golden band could be clearly seen.

(Uh, a lie. No way?), she thought.

"......"

She looked at his face and they exchanged glances. Then she started running out of nowhere and headed to the front of the flower bed. All the sunflowers were in full bloom.

The height she was worried about was just under 3 meters, which was normal. They heard her request?

"Is it still June...?"

"And they just planted them yesterday, right?"

But they were in full bloom, like a lie. It was amazing! She may never have seen such a beautiful and blooming sunflower.

"That hears?"

Fushimi, who was looking at the sunflowers, furrowed his eyebrows.

"This is the south, right?"

"Huh? Oh!"

That's it. Sunflowers face east in the morning, don't they? Then, as the sun moves, they turn west in the afternoon.

But the sunflowers in front of them were completely in front of them. It was strange.

"Hey, Fushimi-kun, don't you feel like they're looking down?"

"They definitely look down, without having to confirm."

(That's right!), she thought.

"Sunflowers should be facing the sun except on rainy days and at night, right?"

"That should be... Hey."

Fushimi suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled on it.

"Huh? Oh!"

A bigger hand than she expected. The warm body temperature she felt for the first time made her heart jump. A squeeze so bittersweet that she was immediately impressed.

"Eh, yes?!"

As Fushimi pulled her away, he began to walk through the flower beds. Along with that, the sunflowers and the face… no, the flowers had moved!

Whether they went to the west of the flower bed or to the north, which was the exact opposite of where they were just before, the sunflowers followed them.

All of them! There were no flowers facing the sun, as they were in the books.

Yes, the sun was being ignored?

A horde of sunflowers, more than two meters, looked at them. They were looking down. There was no surrealism in that image.

"This is..."

She wanted to ask a policeman for help without realizing it, whether she was mentally cornered or she felt like she was being hit with a sword, she was scared.

No, it was better than being able to reach 4 or 5 meters, but she was very happy that they had put their efforts to make it bloom as she asked, but it was also because the ecology of sunflowers was ignored. That was scary. Even so, they flourished beautifully.

She was reluctant to say, "Don't look this way." But she was a little scared, and when she looked at the sunflowers in the blue sky, Fushimi let go of her hand.

Then he hid his mouth with his lightly gripped fist and looked away from her.

"Fu…"

"Uh...!"

The laughter that leaked out and she killed lightly made her heart jump several times faster than before.

When she looked at Fushimi in a hurry, he was shaking his shoulders with his face turned away. The smile that spilled through the hollows of his hands and hair was incredibly soft and innocent.

It seemed unbelievable, but Fushimi was laughing.

Bright surprise turned into unexpected joy and spread in her heart.

She wondered that she made him happy. What happened to make him happy?

(Because Fushimi-kun's smile is absolutely gorgeous. Maybe not everyone has seen it!), she thought.

"This is my fault, isn't it?"

When she said that excitedly, Fushimi looked up and looked at her.

And he had a bitter smile that made her feel embarrassed or amazed.

"There is no other."

"Uh...!"

That was a shock.

At the moment, the inside of her head turned pure white.

And with a particularly strong heartbeat, that smile instantly burned into her heart.

She takes a deep breath, eyes wide, watching the slightly awkward smile.

Somehow she was in trouble or shocked, she thought she should do it. However, the smile was so soft that it made her want to cry.

For the first time, she was glad she had that ability. She thanked loudly from the bottom of her heart.

(Because I could see Fushimi-kun's smile like that! Ah! I'm happy! I'm glad I had this skill! It really is for the best!), she thought.

"Oh! You did it!"

When she screwed up her face and laughed, she looked at Fushimi and showed him a gutsy pose.

"It's amazing for me to make you laugh, Fushimi-kun!"

"Huh? What are you saying?"

"No. I think this is quite amazing. Maybe even Director Munakata-san can't do it easily! I did it! Saya-san, you did a good deed!"

Fushimi opened his mouth as if in astonishment, and frowned as if he couldn't understand.

"You are a strange girl."

++++++++++

As the heat increased and the holidays approached, more and more people felt encouraged.

As Fushimi said, both the disciplinary committee activities and the Blue club activities became busier as the heat increased and the holidays approached.

Even though she was allowed to join the Blue club, her Blue club's ability didn't appear at all, she couldn't help much, and she was doing all the housework. She was still busy.

She was a bit worried that the burden on Fushimi was heavy because he was capable, but he didn't seem to be suffering as much, and did more than her assigned job. Also, she was able to complete the wall.

It was already July. Immediately after the final test.

"No. Everyone is beautiful today too!"

She went to the sunflower field early in the morning and she gave them a lot of water while she watched them.

She had become a habit of hers for some reason since the day the sunflowers bloomed. She thought they would die sooner because they bloomed earlier, so she watered them and she went to check on them every morning, and it was natural.

After more than a month, she became a minor celebrity as a kind of specialty, or expert sunflower woman. To the point that the elders of the garden club would bow their heads with plants that were not energetic.

"Ah, good morning. Fushimi-kun."

Fushimi came when she finished watering. That was every day too.

He didn't answer, but he stopped and waited for her. That was also usual.

"I'm cleaning the hose now."

She waved the sunflowers around her and gathered the hoses into a plastic bag to return to the janitor's room.

When she returned to Fushimi, an unknown boy who seemed to be walking from the men's dorm slid past Fushimi as he yawned. So, he didn't really care about that, did he?

But that boy laughed, "Oh, hi.", and was surprised.

Because he was a stranger at all. And he seemed great, didn't he? Wow!

He was natural. Beautiful silky blonde hair and brown skin. His eyes, which had a wistful feeling and the corners of the eyes were slightly lowered, were a beautiful sepia color.

(The toned face, generously exposed collarbone, slim yet powerful shoulders and upper arms are wonderful!), she thought.

She didn't understand why, and as she screamed, he leaned over and said, "Huh? Oh, good morning, you're here."

"Who are you…?"

The boy had a refreshing smile.

"Who am I?"

Hey? Had she ever seen him? Oh, but just meeting once or twice doesn't mean "meet him", does it? They would have to meet daily.

(Hmm? Do I know this handsome guy?), she thought.

As she filled her head with question marks, the handsome boy walked towards the school building. After dismissing him in confusion, she turned her gaze to Fushimi.

"Fushimi-kun, do you know that boy?"

"He's the fat guy next to Misaki."

Eh? He wasn't fat.

"His style is outstanding, isn't it?"

"Summer did."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Fushimi sighed as she lowered her eyebrows because she didn't understand why.

"He is Kamamoto."

"Huh, Kamamoto-kun?"

Eh? He was the exact opposite of Kamamoto's body shape.

"Fushimi-kun. I'm glad you made a joke, but it's not good enough."

She couldn't be impressed if credibility didn't exist. (Hey? Let's do our best.), she thought.

Saying that, Fushimi fell silent.

++++++++++

After going to the classroom and leaving the bag, she went to the shopping department alone.

When she bought what she needed and returned to the classroom, there was a crowd of people.

When she wondered what was going on, the boy and Yatogami were at the center of it all.

"Trust me, I can't."

Yatogami was coughing, and Shiro and Kukuri were smiling around him. (Hmm? What the hell is that?), she thought.

As she was intrigued and approached, Kukuri noticed her and greeted "Oh, hi!"

"Oh, that's right. It's my first time seeing Saya-chan, right?"

"Let me see."

"Ah! Kamamoto-kun, summer version!"

Shiro and Kukuri showed the handsome boy with both hands and a smile.

(Ehhhhhhh?!), she thought.

"Really? Is it Kamamoto-kun?!"

(Uh, bullshit, wasn't that a joke?!), she thought.

To her, who was shocked, the handsome boy said, "Oh, you didn't recognize me? That's why I received a strange reply."

(Eh…? Wait. Is it really Kamamoto-kun?), she thought.

"Well, wait! You were big yesterday, weren't you?!"

"I agree. I lost my appetite in the midday heat yesterday. So, I woke up like this in the morning."

(No! It's strange that you lose half your weight in one night!), she thought.

"Well, what about your hairstyle? Kamamoto-kun, you had a very short hairstyle."

"It grows fast in summer."

(It couldn't grow more than 10 centimeters overnight because of that.), she thought.

"It's the first time for Kuro and Konohana. That's amazing."

"But this is kind of a summer tradition. When Kamamoto goes flat, summer has come."

At Shiro and Kukuri's words, Yatogami was stunned.

"No, how can you compare this super change to a 'summer tradition'?"

When she said that, Shiro and Kukuri looked at each other.

"Huh? Is it weird that lore is a paranormal phenomenon? Ghosts and ghost stories are summer lore, right?"

"No, that's right..."

Certainly, that change was at the level of a ghost story.

It means, it was true. She thought it was a joke. No, it was absolutely impossible to believe that on the spot.

When she looked at Fushimi, who was sitting in his seat, looking at her sideways as he drank some juice, she was sorry.

She hurriedly clasped her hands together in front of her face and quickly returned to Kamamoto.

"Anyway, it's a bit lonely that the sense of stability around here has disappeared."

Showing his stomach with her hand, Kukuri said, "That? Is Saya-chan from that system?"

"What is that system?"

"Well, Kamamoto-kun is so popular during the summer. He may even have a fan club. When he comes back in the fall, will disband."

How about that too? It means, he was lonely.

"Hmm. I think it's cool, but I don't think I particularly like summer Kamamoto. I like summer Kamamoto and non-summer Kamamoto. Because Kamamoto-kun is Kamamoto-kun. If I dare say, Kamamoto-kun in summer could be a little worried?"

(Because it's a huge change... less than half overnight, right? Is this really okay for his body? Isn't it painful?), she thought.

"You won't break your body, will you?"

"Hey, be careful."

When she said that, Kamamoto laughed a little happily and smiled.

Shiro and Kukuri, who saw it, looked at each other.

"Hey, Konohana, you're pretty natural, aren't you?"

"Hmm?"

"And he's completely oblivious, huh."

"What?"

Kukuri's mischievous voice at Shiro's stunned laugh. (What? Did I say something strange? You didn't say that, did you?), she thought.

When she turned her gaze to Fushimi while she was confused, Fushimi got frustrated and turned the other way. (Oh, that?), she thought.

When she moved her gaze from him to Yata to seek her salvation, Yata was terribly sulky and distorted his face, staring at her. (Ah, but when I met him, he was wrong too. Huh, huh...?), she thought.

She didn't know why, and twisted her neck.

(No. Did I do something strange?), she thought.

++++++++++

After school.

After finishing the Blue club activities and forgetting something in the classroom, she parted ways with Fushimi on the spot and went to the school building alone.

Somehow the clouds looked suspicious. If she didn't go home early, she would get caught in the rain.

As she ran up the stairs, she heard Kamamoto's voice, "Yata-san…", from a great distance.

When she suddenly stopped at the landing of the stairs to be invited, she heard a violent footstep immediately after that.

The moment she turned to look, Yata appeared from under the stairs. She thought he would run up the stairs as he was, but he slammed his foot down deep and immediately stepped on them.

"Oh!"

Just as he was, he vigorously jumped up and kicked the side of the wall. Then, he landed on the railing of the stairs that landed on the opposite side of the wall. Furthermore, with that momentum, the entire body was used as a spring to jump. He kicked the wall at the top of the stairs and climbed to the top right away. He touched the cleaning robot that was there and made a complete turn. He fled as he was.

A momentary event. She was surprised and thrilled at his amazing run as an action star. It had to be said that it was exciting.

"Unbelievable... What? Now..."

(Only four steps up the stairs… that? Is it okay to say four steps? He never touches the stairs themselves. He uses only walls and railings.), she thought.

But it was amazing. She knew he was light, but that was it.

She could hear Kamamoto's slightly pathetic voice, "Yata-san.". But Kamamoto still hadn't appeared under the stairs.

Speaking of Yata, she couldn't even hear his footsteps anymore.

"...! Oh, that's not the case..."

Although she was poking around for a while, she remembered her original purpose and started running.

She hurriedly finished the errands in the classroom, picked up the bag and Kamamoto appeared, breathing on his shoulders. When he looked around the classroom and found that she was the only one, Kamamoto furrowed his brows and tilted his head, "Yata-san, what?"

"He came up the stairs, but he wasn't here? I didn't run into him, did he go to a different place?"

“No, that should be… I should have come to pick up my bag…”

Suddenly, Kamamoto cut off his words. Then he looked out the window and sighed.

"Jump..."

"Eh?"

When she looked at the window in a hurry, one was indeed open. But what about jumping?

"What, jump?!"

(He jumped out of there?!), she thought.

"It's probably raining. As expected, there's a plantation below this, so it's dangerous to jump..."

"Uh, it's dangerous to jump."

"Yata-san is fine. Well, jumping from here means the course is..."

He put his hand to his chin and coughed at what he was calculating.

And when he said "Ok!", he grabbed his bag and turned around.

"So. Konohana! Be careful and go home!"

"Ah, uh! Kamamoto-kun! See you tomorrow!"

When she said it behind his back, he looked towards the door, smiled and left.

She walked over to the window, leaned forward and looked up.

There was no special scaffolding. Actually, there was only one gutter in the wall. Jump from there?

That thought made her shake her back unintentionally.

Immediately, a drop hit her forehead.

"Wow, it's raining already!"

She hastily closed the window and locked it. She grabbed her bag and ran to the door.

When she got to the door… (What? Yata-kun?), she thought.

She found Yata's back looking up at the sky and bowed her head.

"Yata-kun. What's wrong?"

"Wow, ah! What, what! You!"

When she walked up to him and hit him on the back, he seemed very surprised. Yata jumped and turned around, looking back.

"What happened?"

"What happened? I'm about to go home. Oh, it's raining a lot."

She lined up next to Yata and looked up at the sky. The raindrops were quite strong.

"And it's raining."

"At the moment, the weather forecast said it would rain tonight. Oh, I wanted to go home before then."

"Well, the weather forecast... I don't know what to do..."

"Do you want to go home with me? I have an umbrella."

"What?!"

Yata looked big and raised a crazy voice. (Huh? Are you so surprised?), she thought.

"It's not a big umbrella, so you might get a little wet, but I think it's better than going home with nothing."

"Don't be stupid, I'm not that picky!"

"No, but..."

"Sorry!"

He made his face bright red and yelled again. She thought that he would accept, but it was very difficult for Yata to walk next to a girl, she knew that.

(But, you know? Yata-kun. I've already learned what to do in these cases.), she thought.

She lowers her eyebrows and look at Yata.

"But it's hard for me to go home. I'm worried. The forecast said it would rain until noon tomorrow. Even if I go home forcefully, I'll always think if Yata-kun will be okay. Hey? Do you want to help me and go to home with me?"

That was a scratchy word. Yata refused for himself, but he couldn't refuse for people, because he is very kind.

Sure enough, he said, "This is the only time.", his face bright red and his back turned.

(Fufufu. Yata-kun, he's a bit shy! He's very kind!), she thought.

When she took out the umbrella from the bag and opened it, Yata winced for a moment, "It's pink!", but he only said two words. She took the umbrella and opened it.

When she lined up next to him, he began to walk slowly, feeling uncomfortable.

"It's raining, isn't it?"

"......"

"I can't wait for the end of the rainy season. Yata-kun, do you like summer?"

"......"

"Yata-kun, are you listening?"

When she turned to see, he was able to move his eyes as if Yata was impatient.

"I'm listening! So don't look this way!"

"If you're listening, you won't hit the drumstick even if you hit it like an aizuchi, right?"

"No, no... I was just thinking about that."

"Thinking?"

When she looked at Yata, Yata turned away from her saying, “Then, look...”.

"I feel like I've forgotten..."

"Huh? Forgot? Is it okay? Are you going back to the classroom?"

(Isn't it hard if it's Anna-sensei's homework? If you skip Anna-sensei's homework, you'll get a ridiculous amount of extra lessons, right?), she thought.

"Are you going back?"

"No, no. I don't think it's a problem. I confirmed it."

That was true. He didn't want to experience that again.

"So, if you remember it on the way, don't hesitate to tell me."

He replied "Yes." with a very small voice.

It was weird somehow, and she laughed.

Yata is very bad with girls. For him to be in front of a girl under a borrowed umbrella, that was already great progress. Was nice.

"That's right! Hey, did you just use the walls and railings to shorten the stairs? That was great!"

"......!"

"I knew you were light, but that was awesome! Oh, yeah. I heard in the classroom that you went out the window and jumped, but didn't you?"

Is it because she praised him? Yata's ears, which were still looking away, turned redder and redder as he spoke.

However, even with a small voice, he spoke up and he said, "Yes, it's parkour.", while he struggled with his shyness. She was glad of that.

(Yes. Yata-kun isn't good with girls, but he never makes me vulnerable. He doesn't dislike me. He'll do his best and face it. That's why I feels comfortable around Yata-kun.), she thought.

"Parkour?"

"Yes. Well, it's a sport whose purpose is to move to the destination efficiently without interrupting movement. Kusanagi-san recommended me to do it. It's good for training your body. It suits me, that's why I'm practicing now."

It was probably the same explanation he heard from Kusanagi. He looked up and managed to explain as he remembered.

"Is that so?"

"Flying, running, climbing, keeping balance. Physical skills and strength are of course necessary, but that's not enough. A momentary misjudgment can lead to serious injury, so I use my head a lot."

Ah, she understood that. It's dangerous if you're wrong.

(That's it. In other words, parkour aims to reach the destination in the shortest possible time by performing smooth movements such as "fly, run, climb, balance" and requires flexible muscular strength and skill, judgment and power for that purpose, right?), she thought.

"I'm a person who doesn't think much, so Kusanagi-san said it's better that I get into the habit of thinking and moving."

"Is that so?"

"Kicking a wall, flying, or moving is called a wall run, and landing on the railing is a precision."

"Accuracy? Well, accurate?"

"Yes. The technique of landing exactly where you expected."

"Hey! It's great!"

"Climbing, sliding, jumping. The moment you land, you make a revolution and kill the impact of landing. If you improve, it looks like you can jump off the third floor."

"What?!"

(From the third floor?!), she thought.

"Well, are you okay?"

"Who do you think I am? I can't do it yet, but I'll get it right away."

Is it because she was impressed by the story? The words that followed became softer and softer, and the gruff attitude became very natural. As if he relaxed and showed her a smile.

(How cute. It looks like the distance between the two of them is getting closer.), she thought.

"Didn't you get hurt? When I heard it was raining and went upstairs, I was scared. I wonder if that physical strength is alright. But Yata-kun, it looks awkward and scary."

"Okay, summer is near. I don't want to get hurt."

"I hope so. Oh, that's right. Yata-kun. What happened to Kamamoto-kun? He was desperately chasing you…"

When she remembered Kamamoto in the parkour story and asked him like that, Yata looked at her and widened his eyes. It's like he just remembered. (Huh? Maybe?), she thought.

"Huh? Wow, have you remembered yet?"

"Wow, I forgot. Or maybe! I forgot, which I was curious about…"

He maybe he remembered his embarrassment when he looked at her, and Yata coughed as he looked away from her.

He looked like he was completely beside himself, and though she felt sorry for Kamamoto, she suddenly snapped.

"No...! I feel sorry for Yata-kun and Kamamoto-kun."

"Oh, it's too bad it's slow."

"Hahaha. I shouldn't laugh, but... Haha. What is Kamamoto-kun doing now?"

(Are you looking for Yata-kun? No, poor boy.), she thought.

She shouldn't be laughing, but she couldn't stop laughing. When she shrugged, Yata looked a little happy, but he had a goofy, worried smile.

"Well, he'll notice soon enough. You're not in the school building anymore."

"It will take a long time to notice, right? What a great thing!"

"He'll still find out at night."

"Before that, let's contact him with the PDA. I feel sorry."

"My hands are cold."

Certainly she had an umbrella in one hand and a bag in the other, so she was blocked.

(No, you could hold the umbrella while I contact him, right?), she thought.

Then he said, "How troublesome."

(What? I'm sorry you're afraid to contact him.), she thought.

It was weird, and at the same time she wanted to make fun of it, and when she said, "That's right. We're alone. I don't want to be disturbed.".

When she said that, Yata-kun was already brightly red eggplant, and yelled, "Don't say weird things!"

It was fun to tease him.

For a while, she couldn't stop laughing until the fork in the bedroom.

++++++++++

Summer crackdown. The great activity of the Blue club at the end of the first semester.

The test was over and unannounced at a time when summer vacations tended to be slow. Mainly clothing control and inspection of belongings.

After school, everything started at once in various places. It was in front of the school building.

"First year group, attendance number 2... Tomoji Aikawa. Tobacco."

They matched the student's information on the PDA and wrote the infraction on the list.

"Yes. I think the disposition will be dictated by the homeroom teacher tomorrow. You can go home."

He put the confiscated cigarettes in a cardboard box, then clicked his tongue and left.

"Is it a cigarette right now? It just needs an extra lesson."

"Smoking is a supplementary lesson? It will be rustic for a day or two."

"Think about it?"

"It's natural. Hey. There. I'll check the inside of the bag."

Fushimi stopped the passing student. She picked up the cardboard and followed him.

However, they all had a lot of stuff. Comic books, DVDs, game consoles. tobacco. Props that violated school rules. There were also many magazines. More than half of them were travel magazines. It's probably because they were planning for the summer, but that was also a violation of school rules.

She placed the cardboard, which was quite heavy, under it and received the cartoon that came out of the girl's bag. She sighed inwardly and said, "The PDA.", and the girl reluctantly offered it to her.

"It's always awesome! Whatever we do after school, that's our business!"

Yata's voice echoed from behind as she collected the student's information.

Looking back, Yata and Kamamoto were caught by Akiyama in front of the stairs.

"No. I can't do that. That skateboard is a good violation too. Give it to me."

(Oh, that's right. That's rape, too, isn't it? He always carries it with him, so he feels paralyzed.), she thought.

"Oh, crap. You're not kidding."

"That's right. If you don't obey..."

"Wait. I'll be this guy's opponent."

Fushimi grabbed Akiyama's shoulder and said that in a low voice.

"Fushimi-san!"

(Oh, that? Fushimi-kun, even though he was by my side. Are you there now?!), she thought.

While she was surprised by his speed, she filled in the offender's data on the list and returned the usual lines. "I think the disposition will be dictated by the homeroom teacher tomorrow. You can go home."

"Hey...monkey? Okay! I'll pay the debt I owe!"

Yata made his eyes murmur in a warlike manner and he smiled fiercely.

(Oh, by the way, the day that opened the pool. Did Yata-kun lose to Fushimi-kun?), she thought.

She waved the girl off in a bored way and went back to his side with the cardboard.

"Wow!"

At the same time, a collision between the Blue club and other members of the Red club broke out nearby. She avoided the flying flame and inadvertently ducked.

"Oh...! Oh, oh! Oh, it's dangerous! You better back off!"

Yata, who noticed it, toyed with Fushimi's saber with flames and called out to him. No, but even if she was told to back off, there were already so-called "conflicts" here and there.

(What should I do? Even if I try to evacuate, it seems dangerous if I move badly. Oh, but I'm sure it's annoying if I'm here.), she thought.

"You say that! You're still a virgin, Misaki."

"Bastard! Shut up!"

"Konohana-san. Come here."

Akiyama, who drew his saber, called out to her from a distance.

"I am sorry, thanks."

She stood up, picked up the cardboard box, and took a cautious step.

"Oh!"

"Hey. Didn't you pay the debt? Hey, Mi-Sa-Ki?"

"That's it!"

Backstage, Fushimi attacked while Yata screamed.

Then, red and blue flames flowing from somewhere broke between her and Akiyama.

"Hey!"

In response to that bow, she the next moment staggered a few steps to the left. Her left foot lost support.

Eh?

A swinging view. She could hear Akiyama's sharp voice, "Konohana-san!"

Fushimi and Yata with surprised expressions reflected for a moment in the corner of the tilted field of vision.

"Konohana-san!"

Who did the scream belong to?

The moment she understood that, her body was blown up with the cardboard. She was braced for the blow and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"......?"

But the next moment, something firmly held her body, and the shock and pain she expected didn't hit her body. She opened her eyes.

"She was close, right?"

Close... yes. Yata's voice echoed as close to her as she could touch.

When she opened her eyes with a jerk, Yata's face was actually in front of her and it was impressive. She was held back by Yata.

Yata usually looks very small when he mixes with everyone. On top of that, he looks even more prominent due to the slight movements.

But his arms that embraced her were very strong, slow and her heart was beating fast.

"Eh, eh?"

She was surprised by her own warmth, but when she looked around her for an explanation of what had happened, there was a staircase in front of her. Above that were Fushimi and Akiyama.

(That's where I was until a little while ago. So after all, I was falling? But Yata-kun should have been there too?!), she thought.

"No, Yata-kun...?"

"Hold on tight!"

She didn't know why, so she did as Yata said.

However, almost at the same time, Yata cried out loudly.

Then, when he made a complete turn with the skateboard under his feet, he kicked the ground just as he was.

"What?!"

He radiated a red flame from the skateboard and quickly accelerated. A strong wind moved her hair.

(Oh, this caught me falling down the stairs and looked for me.), she thought.

She thought about it for a moment. The rest was not so much.

"Misaki!"

The last thing she saw as she clung to Yata was Fushimi's face, which was severely distorted with anger and regret.

However, he too grew smaller and disappeared after a moment.

Thirty minutes later. Safe Place = When she was brought to the front of the girls' dorm and finally returned to the scene, it was all over.

She talked to a member of the Blue club who was holding a box and trying to pick it up, and asked him if he had seen Fushimi, but he said no.

"He is working somewhere else?"

"That's right. He's on a job at the Blue club."

Preliminary, the seized items will be classified in the Blue club room, and the list will be compiled into a list and sent to each classroom teacher and grade head. Would he be in a classroom? Or has he headed to the Blue club a little earlier?

(If he hasn't gone to the classroom, I'll grab my bag and hurry to the Blue club.), she thought.

She thanked him and turned around, quickly going to the classroom.

When she opened the door, she could see Fushimi sitting at a desk and fanning a PET bottle at the back of the classroom.

"......"

One look and his eyes caught her. Speaking of that sharpness, that just showed that Fushimi was in a very bad mood. (Uh, I've done it again.), she thought.

"Um... that's... sorry."

She went in front of Fushimi and bowed obediently.

"Again, I pulled my legs up grandly, and that..."

"......"

(Oh, he's very quiet. Does he seem angry?), she thought.

"My Blue club ability isn't showing yet, so it's really unfortunate that I can only do chores, but I can't be satisfied with that either. At the very least, I want to be able to do that alone. As a member of the Blue club, I want to be a member "useful not to bother too much"..."

"......"

"Oh, but even if I just have the ambition, you really shouldn't bother. I'm really sorry. I'll be careful not to do it after that."

Lowering her head further, she heard a large tongue click above her head.

"Misaki has helped you."

"Huh? Yata-kun? Oh, that's right. After all, Yata-kun's bag couldn't be inspected, right? I couldn't tell Yata-kun to show me the inside of the bag before help me, so I collapsed..."

Not just the bag, but also that skateboard. When he was asked to drop her off in front of the girls' dorm, she thought that he should show the inside of the bag and that she should pick up the skateboard as well. Did she think she was okay? But without it, he might not have been able to reach her when she fell down the stairs.

In other words, without it, she would be injured. So she couldn't confiscate it, she could only thank him.

In other words, she ended up "missing him her way"...

"Oh, I really interrupted the Blue club's activities. I'm sorry. Oh, yeah. I'll apologize to everyone and director Munakata-san later so that the evaluation of Fushimi-kun, the educator, won't go down. I'm really sorry."

"Does not mean that."

Fushimi clicked his tongue again, to whom she bowed her head many times.

And when she shrugged and raised her face, a hot look pierced her.

"I knew it! You're like Misaki..."

"Eh…?"

"No, no, no."

When she frowned in confusion, he immediately spoke as if he was surprised and bitterly distorted his face.

He then coughed as if he was going to throw it away and turned to the side.

She could only stare at the passionate blue flame that burned in his eyes for a moment, then suddenly cooled and disappeared.

(What was that?), she thought.

"Um... I couldn't do it this time, but I'll try not to make a sweet face even for Yata-kun. As a member of the Blue club, I'll try not to embarrass you."

"That's right. There's also a training camp during the summer break. So you should be a little stronger. Situational judgment. So you don't have to go back and forth at that time."

He still had his back turned, but it was different from before, and he had a very calm voice.

She felt relieved and she took a deep breath.

"Yes, understood. I'll do my best. I'm very sorry."

++++++++++

School day during summer vacation.

"Long time not see you!"

The moment she entered the classroom, Kukuri jumped up with a bright smile.

"Hey, Saya-chan, didn't you go home? How was your first summer vacation in Gakuenjima? Have you tried various things?"

"Well, various things? Kusanagi-san from the Red club invited me to go to his store. I found Awashima-san there. Then I went to a nearby store with Awashima-san."

Kukuri's eyes were stunned by her words.

"Huh? Is that all?"

"Oh, on the way back, I went to see the university Kusanagi-san attends."

"Huh? Summer vacation, more than half over, is that it? What were you doing?"

"It was rewarding. It was full of club activities. Ah, so I went to the Blue club training ground. Did you go to the sea? I swam a long distance to a small island, drowned a bit, and finally got there and fell asleep I was late for the meeting time. Director Munakata-san smiled at me with Fushimi-kun."

"Did he smile?"

"Yes, he smiled. Munakata-san isn't scary when he smiles."

With a smile, Kukuri made a dissatisfied voice, "Yes?"

After cooling her feelings with the repression before the closing ceremony, she had been working hard to not upset Fushimi and become a useful member for the Blue club. Well, still, she did it once, she was frustrated but director Munakata smiled.

However, apart from that, in the training camp, she works hard in silence in basic training and thoroughly clean the inside of the school during the summer break. She was also able to look around outside the school. She wondered if she could put on her wings and go in and out of strange places. Oh, that was the first time she visited Kusanagi's shop, which was a Red Club hangout. Then they invited her to lunch and she went out a second time.

She couldn't do much to deal with the problems students had outside of school, but she was doing her best to help them.

Of course, she also studied to improve her academic ability. On the ability test in the second semester, her goal was to average 90 points per person. By the way, the range is narrow between the middle and the end of the period, so she averaged 90 points or more. She was great though, she seemed like a natural at Blue club.

At the explanation, Kukuri seemed to be dissatisfied for the third time, "Huh?"

"You weren't playing at all. Let's make summer memories properly!"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure I'm not messing around too much, but I didn't hate it, because I wanted to do that."

(After all, I was able to "get into club activities" again. That's amazing to me! I'm busy, but I'm so happy!), she thought.

"That's how it is."

Kukuri boosted her confidence with dissatisfaction.

"School activities are interesting, aren't they? There are not only five schools from kindergarten to university, but there are many more."

"Looks like it. Kusanagi-san told me to play more."

"That's right. You won't be able to play next year even if you want to play. Oh, yeah! Well then, let's go to the festival today! Wear a yukata!"

Kukuri clapped her hands and smiled.

"Festival? Is there a festival?"

"It's here. It's a shrine near the school, so you can get back to curfew properly."

"Mmm."

"Eh, right? Oh, maybe you don't have a yukata? In that case, yukata underwear can be bought, but could you rent it from the drama club?"

"Oh, no, that's not it. I want to go, but I have a club activity today. Sorry."

"Huh? Let's play for a while, Saya-chan."

(Ahaha. Yes. I would like to play too. However, I decided to become a worthy member of the Blue club as soon as possible. I won't bother Fushimi-kun anymore.), she thought.

Even so, she did it once in the training camp, moreover, the two of them were scolded by the director.

(Well, Fushimi-kun was also bad at the time, so it was still good, right? It wasn't just that I caused a lot of trouble. But that's why I knew he was still there. It's good to play, but I want to do it after that I can do what I must do.), she thought.

Again, in school, in the club, as a student, as a member, there was something she had to do. That was a great pleasure for her.

So she wanted to do her best. She wanted to be a full-fledged person as soon as possible so as not to disturb.

(So, I want to enjoy a more satisfying "school life"!), she thought.

"Thanks for inviting me. I'm sorry."

Another time she would play again. She wanted to do it after she could make some more progress.

Kukuri laughed at her smile, "I can't help it.".

++++++++++

He wondered if she was listening.

"Hey…"

"......! What? Oh, yeah!"

A school trip in the fall. At the time, she was helping create the bookmarks and writing handwritten notes on a document on her computer. A voice called from behind and she turned her back.

"Hmm, Fushimi-kun? You surprised me."

"Didn't you notice the sound coming?"

"No, I was concentrated."

Looking around the room, it was just the two of them. It was getting dark outside.

"No, before I know it... I'm sorry! I'll get rid of this soon."

"Undo? What is that?"

Fushimi placed the paper bag in his hand on the desk.

"What?"

"Put it on."

It was not the answer she expected from Fushimi.

"Eh?"

"Okay, make it quick."

"Yes, understood."

At the moment, without knowing the reason, she took a look inside the paper bag and found a pale blue yukata. When she was surprised and raised her face, Fushimi sighed and said, "Can you put it on yourself?".

"I'm not sure... I mean, um, why?"

"I borrowed it from the drama club. The underwear was bought by Yukizome. So when you put on the underwear and yukata, call me."

Saying that, Fushimi quickly left the room.

She looked at the yukata and shifted her gaze to the new underwear in the paper bag.

Well, she was going to ask, "Why did you prepare the yukata?" instead of "How did you prepare the yukata?".

(Maybe Fushimi-kun… Did you hear the conversation this morning? So, did you prepared it because of that?), she thought.

"Yes!"

Her heart beat hard.

She quickly ripped open the package of underwear and put it on.

She folded the uniform, she put on the yukata and called out to Fushimi.

"Spread your hands horizontally."

As she was instructed, she spread her hands horizontally over her shoulders, checked the line behind her and Fushimi checked the collar of the yukata and adjusted it.

"Oh..."

She felt Fushimi's breath very close to her and her face turned red.

She opened the front wide once and adjusted the hem to fit. Her face turned red as her hands slipped into her waist. (What should I do? It's embarrassing.), she thought.

"Hey, keep it down here."

"Oh, yeah!"

As he told her that in a serious voice, she took heed.

Although for a moment it seemed a suspicious face, Fushimi immediately put the thread in his mouth, knelt down and turned his hands behind her as if he was hugging her waist. (Wow!), she thought.

Her face grew hotter and hotter. It was embarrassing to know that he was tying a strap around her waist.

"Stay still."

"Oh, yeah!"

He tied the rope, lifted and trimmed the sash, smoothed out the entire wrinkle, trimmed the collar, and straightened it.

"Stay like that."

"Yes..."

She forgot the embarrassment and looked at him with a fluid hand without stagnation or hesitation. After all, it was embarrassing. It is true that she had already seen it, but the emotion did not diminish at all.

Fushimi's body temperature and breathing were so close that she was embarrassed. And somehow she was happy.

"The obi is a soldier's obi, because it's easy."

Fushimi said, "Turn around.", taking out a soft pale pink obi with a feeling of transparency from the paper bag. When she obediently turned her back on him, Fushimi's arms swung forward, as if he was embracing her again.

Just the sound of fabric brushing filled the room.

Although she was worried, she could hear the sound of her heartbeat.

"Fine. Sit down."

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

As she sat down on a chair, the obi swayed gently as she moved.

"Get your feet out."

"Hey! Oh, can I do it alone?"

"Just do it."

"Yes."

When she spread her legs, Fushimi's big hands reluctantly held her legs.

Fushimi put her in low-heeled mules with a beautiful Japanese pattern, as she couldn't bear her embarrassment and her face lit up so much that she got hot flashes.

She thought it was a geta, and tilted her neck and looked at Fushimi.

"It's not a geta."

"It's close, because if you walk, it's a reasonable distance. If you're not used to walking, your legs will hurt."

"Uh..."

(Was this also borrowed from the drama club?), she thought.

"I'm done, so grab your bag and go outside. I'll be right over."

"Ah, yes. I understand."

When she stood up, she placed her uniform in a paper bag and turned around with a bag.

"Do not fall."

Even the forceful attention was bouncing off.

++++++++++

After a while, with Fushimi, who came out of the room wearing a very elegant yukata with a pale green stripe on an almost black green area, she went through the bedroom and dropped off her luggage before heading to the festival.

She was excited about the Ion light festival. Most of all, she was glad that Fushimi took her.

"It's lively!"

Although there were too many people.

"Oh, there's apple candy and strawberry candy. Fushimi-kun."

"I don't want that sticky thing."

"Huh? Yeah? It's delicious. What about the chocolate bananas?"

Fushimi looked at the food stall as if he was intrigued. (Do you want it?), she thought.

"Hey, let's eat together. I'm going to get some chopsticks."

"As you like."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

She asked the vendor at the concession stand for two chocolate bananas.

"Which would you like, black, white or pink?"

"Milk chocolate, white chocolate, and strawberry chocolate? Then black and white."

"Thanks!"

When she received the skewers and presented them in front of Fushimi, "Which one do you want?". He picked up the black one without hesitation.

"This kind of thing at the time of the festival feels really delicious..."

Her shoulder hit a person coming from the front and she staggered.

Looking back, Fushimi clicked his tongue at her and grabbed her hand.

"I'm fluttering."

"No."

Fushimi's big hand. She was excited by the hot body temperature.

(Why? My little hand, which is completely wrapped, this is strangely embarrassing. What should I do? My heart is pounding and I don't even know the taste of chocolate bananas.), she thought.

"Hmm, Fushimi-kun. There's a goldfish shovel."

It seemed strange to be silent, and it was a bit awkward, so she really didn't want to do it, but she pointed to the stall with the banana she was about to eat and looked at Fushimi.

"The breeding of animals is strictly prohibited in the bedroom."

"Oh, that's right. Goldfish is useless?"

"Why do you like that cat?"

"Cat...? Someone has a cat... Oh! You mean Neko?"

That's how it is. He was referring to Neko.

"Neko can't count as 'raising animals,' right?"

"Why? Not only the name but also the intelligence is like a cat, isn't it?"

That's why she calls him nasty glasses.

"Neko is a human. By the way, she's a beautiful girl. Oh! So what? Fushimi-kun. Wait... what? Can you throw a shuriken?"

Fushimi also often stops when he is interested in something.

"Eh...? In shooting, if you shoot a gun and defeat that box, you'll get a prize, right?"

"If you throw a shuriken, it looks like you can get a prize by throwing it three times and getting the full score for the part where the target is stuck."

(Hey! I'm seeing it for the first time!), she thought.

"I want to try it!"

"Do what you want."

Suddenly, Fushimi let go of her hand.

He helped her mentally, but when he looked away, she felt alone. She thought she was selfish. But finally, her heart was able to calm down a bit.

She took a deep breath and she walked over to the concession stand.

"Please."

"Yes. Pick three shurikens you like."

The vendor smiled and showed what was on the table.

Many shurikens were lined up in a row. When she held it, it felt heavy.

"Practice once, you have three chances! Come on!"

"Yes!"

She chose a typical shuriken with four blades and threw it.

"Eh?"

Although she hit the target, she didn't hit it. It didn't fall.

"If the blade doesn't hit the target vertically, it won't work. You can't bend it one bit. It's vertical."

"Huh? It's hard. Oh, is this the end of practice?"

"Yes! That's it. Come on, try it!"

The vender showed her the target with a big smile.

After all, she threw it three times, but only managed to hit it once. Also, in the outermost part of the target. That was a point.

She got the participation prize candies and returned from her with Fushimi, who was watching behind her.

"Uh… it's hard. I wanted those thirty points."

"What? Thirty points... Isn't it impossible if you don't hit the center?"

"Because, see? Those penguins that have flown away."

She pointed a finger at the shelf where the prizes were lined up at the back of the booth. At the top was a stuffed penguin with a somewhat fluffy face.

"Oh, I really do."

"That?"

"Yeah, he's cute, isn't he? That penguin."

"Is that so? He's so ugly I'm dying."

"Let's try it again."

"I can't do that with this arm. Do you want to try it?"

Fushimi sighed a little.

"Then, I'll take it, so wait here too."

"Huh? Oh!"

(Will you take it?), she thought.

Fushimi, who approached the vendor, was invited in a hurry.

"Oh, young lady. What? Will your boyfriend try this time?"

"He is not my boyfriend."

"Um, I'm not his boyfriend."

(So to speak, he is my boss.), she thought.

"Yes. Pick three of your favorite shurikens. Practice once and get three chances! Come on..."

"I don't need practice."

Obstructing the vendor's words, he selected three wooden shurikens that were relatively similar in shape to a knife and turned his back to the stall.

"Please stand down."

"Huh? Oh, what?"

"Huh? Hey, Fushimi-kun?"

She and the vendor were surprised at Fushimi, who started to walk backwards as he was.

“Oh, what? Do you want to cast it from such a distant place...?"

It was just as the vender said. It took about twice the distance from where she originally threw it and made a complete turn. Launching it in one go using centrifugal force just as he was.

"Oh!"

The stick shuriken that flew sharply was deep in the center of the target. Cheers rose from the surroundings.

He turns the shuriken stick in his hand as it was, and then turn his body once or twice.

Gracefully without disturbing the hem of the yukata. At the foot of the stream, as if he were dancing.

"Oh!"

(Incredible! Incredible! Incredible!), she thought.

It was all in a moment. As she was mesmerized by the stunning and beautiful movements, all the released shurikens were drawn to the center of the target as if inhaled.

Not only her but everyone who was watching was very excited by the shuriken throwing that was too splendid. A loud voice and applause were heard.

"Hey, Fushimi-kun!"

"It is normal."

But where normal was, that was not the case.

"Wow, that's amazing! It's really amazing!"

"There's a lot of noise. Here, that ugly thing, I guess you wanted it."

"Oh, yes! Sir! First prize please!"

The vendor was disappointed when he saw that the shuriken was so deeply embedded in the center, but he couldn't complain.

He gave her the stuffed animal as he said "I lost.".

She hugged it tightly and laughed at Fushimi.

"Thank you. I'll take good care of it!"

The answer was the usual irony. Her slightly shy profile made her happy.

"It's not good to have such a bad eye. It's a bad hobby."

"Because he doesn't look like Fushimi-kun?"

"Eh?"

"It's similar. You see poorly and wear glasses. At first glance, I thought it was similar. That's right! The name is Saruhiko. It's cute!"

"Enough. It's irritating somehow."

Fushimi raised his eyebrows and shaded them like he was suffocating, but she felt it. It was a rejection.

"I'm so happy I came to the festival and got this! Thank you!"

(Best memories!), she thought.

Hugging the stuffed animal and turning a smile like no other.

Doing that, he clicks my tongue as usual and turn the other way. But quietly, he said, "Well, you... did the best you could in the summer."

Involuntarily, she gasped. (Did he bring me here for that? Lie… If so, I'm not happy about it!), she thought.

Inspiring and trembling.

Her tears were about to spill, and she hurriedly covered her face with the stuffed animal.

"Come on. The fireworks are starting."

Whether or not he knew her thoughts, Fushimi took her hand again.

++++++++++

Fireworks were launched signaling the end of the festival.

A large flower bloomed in the night sky with a loud noise.

It brightly illuminated them and dispersed in an instant.

The beautiful, dreamy glow sank into her heart.

The hands tied so as not to get lost in the crowd still transmitted the body temperature of each one.

The warmth, the kindness of Fushimi and the brightness that colored the night sky.

#k #k project #gakuen k #k wonderfull school days #yata misaki #fushimi saruhiko

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taexual · 4 years

Text

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (17)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst → smut (dom!jjk themes but only because he can’t control himself lol)

words: 8.2k

chapter seventeen

Namjoon dropped you off back on campus and was even kind enough – or guilty enough – to offer his help in your search for Jungkook, but you didn’t want to take up any more of his time and, in the case of actually finding Jungkook, you didn’t think you’d make the situation better by having Namjoon with you.

The first thing you did after you exited his car on campus was leave the campus – because you thought that Jungkook may have lingered by the club where Parental Advisory performed tonight; even if his bandmates didn’t seem to think so, since Yoongi insisted they’d lost their lead vocalist – and walking around in the shoes you’d picked today was almost enough to make you regret not asking Namjoon to drive you around, after all.

You hadn’t worn heels but the ballet flats were still not fit for this much walking and, once you circled the club twice and even asked the manager – who was having a smoke outside – if he’d seen Jungkook, you decided that you could understand why Yoongi had been so upset about his bandmate’s disappearance.

As you returned to campus, you decided that you were also ready to strangle Jungkook once you finally found him.

“Have you heard anything from him?” you asked in your text message to Yoongi and then informed him, “I’m on my way to my dorm now to change into more comfortable shoes but I’ll check some of the buildings where he has classes after that.”

Just as you passed the library – and peeked inside because, although slim, there was the possibility that Jungkook may have been hiding out here (he wasn’t) – your phone buzzed with Yoongi’s reply.

“The guys and I will check them,” he was saying, “are there any other places on campus that have some significance to you and him?”

You did a double-take when you finished reading the text, not liking the wave of awkward and misplaced guilt that returned when you fully grasped what Yoongi was implying – he may not have been accusing you of anything, but he was, clearly, convinced that you were the reason why Jungkook missed the encore of his show and then disappeared off of the face of the Earth.

“I’m not sure,” you started to type back as you walked past the double-doors of your dormitory, startling your seemingly drunk RA who had been dozing off on the couch in the first-floor lounge. You stopped typing to press the elevator button, but then resumed, “I’ll walk around. He couldn’t have gone far.”

“He could have,” came Yoongi’s arbitrary – but, frankly, objective – response and you sighed as you read his words, your reflection looking very gloomy in the mirror of the elevator. “But let’s hope he didn’t. If you find him first, kick him where it hurts most. And then punch him for me, too.”

You couldn’t help snickering at the absurdity of the situation that you were in – you definitely never thought you’d end up bonding with Jungkook’s bandmates over your mutual frustration with him – as you typed back your response.

“If his phone isn’t back on within the next ten minutes,” you were saying in your text, stopping for a second when the elevator ding! announced that you’d reached your floor, “I will be doing a lot more than just—”

You stopped typing as an audible gasp escaped your lips, prompted by the sight at the far end of the hallway, right by the door of your dorm. Your phone nearly left your hands, on its way to crash on the floor. You’d caught it—miraculously—your eyes still locked on the figure, sitting on the floor by your door.

“Jungkook,” you said, meaning it as a question but not being able to articulate it properly due to your shock. The dim lighting of the hallway made it difficult for you to make out if it the silhouette was actually him, or if it was someone who was incredibly similar to him.

“Oh,” the person replied and – clumsily – stood up, relying heavily on the wall to help him support his weight. It was Jungkook alright. But barely. “You’re here.”

“I’m—of course, I’m here. I live here,” you said, not sure how to react. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Various unintelligible sounds left your mouth after he said this – the first syllables of all the words you wanted to say in the moment; all of them rated-R – until you settled on watching him for a minute to get some time to form a coherent thought and to asses the damage.

It didn’t look like he’d been in a fight. It simply looked like he got very drunk and plopped down on the floor next to your dorm room.

“Waiting for—Jungkook, fuck—do you know that your band is literally out there, looking for you?” you demanded after inhaling sharply. “There’s a whole search party for you and you’re—you’re here.”

“I was waiting for you to come back,” Jungkook said. He was a lot more sober now than he was hours ago, but he still wasn’t sober enough to recognize his own guilt. Actually, he was probably never sober enough to feel guilty about anything, but alcohol had little to do with it. “I was going to drive over there to find you—”

“You’re drunk,” you snapped, interrupting him.

“Yeah, and that’s why I didn’t,” he said, pausing for more effect as he waited for you to express your admiration for his self-control but, after it didn’t come, he cleared his throat and, sounding disappointed, explained, “I knew you would give me shit if I drove a car drunk and I promised you that I wouldn’t. So I didn’t. I waited for you here instead.”

“You should have known that drunk-driving is unacceptable because that puts you and everyone around you in danger,” you countered, the moral superiority in your voice clouding the meaning of your words, “and not just because I would give you shit if you did it again.”

He rolled his eyes but chose not to expand on this argument because you didn’t look like you were in the right mood to understand his point of view about “conforming to societal norms”, even if it meant that he was putting himself – and those around him – in danger. Not to mention, he was still too tipsy to hold out a proper conversation.

“How long have you been here?” you asked after he didn’t reply.

You were well-aware that you were having this conversation in the hallway when you could have, theoretically, had it in your room. The door was right there. The key was in your handbag.

But entering – and inviting him inside – wasn’t something you were ready for just yet. The adrenaline from not knowing where Jungkook was and what had happened to him still hadn’t faded. Your breathing still hadn’t calmed down – funnily enough, it would not calm down for the rest of the night, but you didn’t know that yet.

“A while,” he replied just as you remembered you were supposed to let Yoongi know you’d located the missing boy. You got your phone out while Jungkook continued, “I bribed your RA with my six-pack of Heineken. Well, actually, it wasn’t really mine, I just took it from the bar, but—”

You stopped typing the text message to give him a hard look. “You stole six bottles of beer?”

Jungkook blinked, thrown off by the fever in your eyes. “No. I took them.”

“Without paying?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s stealing.”

“I do it all the time,” he waved his hand dismissively – and pushed himself off the wall in the process, only to lean back against it again a moment later, when he realized he was still not steady enough on his feet. He nodded his head at your phone, ��ask Yoongi. The manager knows us there. We get drinks on the house.”

“I’m—how do you know I’m texting Yoongi?”

“You said there was a search party for me,” he said, taking you off-guard with his accurate conclusions. You wondered what sort of effect alcohol had on him, “Yoongi is the only one that cares enough to lead it.”

He didn’t mean to make it sound sad – in fact, his facial expression remained the same: somewhat cautious and a little irritated – but you still felt an unpleasant pang of misery in the pit of your stomach.

“He’s—well, I care, too,” you said with a nervous cough that was meant to rid you of all pity you felt towards him because pity didn’t justify what he did. “A lot of people care. You can’t just disappear like that in the middle of your show and—”

“It is Yoongi you’re texting, right?” Jungkook asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing. “Not someone else?”

He was probably trying to be nonchalant about it but, consciously or not, he ended up making his question unbearably obvious. The “someone else” may have been an abstract concept to outsiders – your peers, lurking by their doors and watching the argument play out through their peepholes – but you both knew whom Jungkook had in mind.

“Yes,” you said. “I was texting Yoongi. We’d agreed to let each other know if we found you.”

“Okay, good,” Jungkook said and proceeded to act like this was all a mere misunderstanding that wasn’t worth a lengthy discussion. “Can we go inside now? It’s weird to talk in the hall.”

“Are you going to tell me why you got drunk before your show?” you asked, your voice on the edge of yelling. “Or why you skipped out on the encore?”

Understanding that answering this was the one condition to enter your room, Jungkook sighed.

He was hoping you’d come to your own conclusion about this and he could just roll with whatever you thought was the truth – that he was useless, untrustworthy, reckless, and any other thing that people regarded him as – because explaining himself meant talking about his feelings. And he was so good at pretending that he didn’t like to do that.

“Because you weren’t there,” Jungkook answered.

You couldn’t help but groan. You’d gotten so tired of his no-more-than-four-word responses to serious questions, you couldn’t hear any more of them. You hated having to ask specific questions to get him to talk when he knew very well what you wanted to know.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned irritably. “I wasn’t at your previous shows and that didn’t seem to be a problem.”

“Before—”

“Not to mention,” you continued, choosing to let it all out now that he’d shown you he wasn’t going to be completely upfront with you, “you knew where I was. We’d talked about our plans for tonight extensively, and I wasn’t supposed to hear from you until the barbecue ended and you wrapped up your show.”

“Okay, fine,” Jungkook said, his voice rushed. He didn’t want to hear any more of your accusations because he knew he would lose the battle of wits – he would have lost it on an ordinary day, but today, everything he said seemed extremely wrong. “It’s because you were with him.”

“With Namjoon?” you clarified, crossing your arms over your chest.

Not liking your defensive stance, Jungkook swallowed and said slowly, “yes.”

You looked away from him then – as if you were gazing into an unseen camera and waiting for someone to yell that you’d been punk’d – your eyes losing focus.

“Are you kidding me?” you asked with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

“I’m not,” he replied, his jaw clenched. “My own father sent me the picture.”

“The picture?” you raised your eyebrows, almost laughing. “It was just a picture of the company employees! Namjoon happened to be standing next to me. You can’t seriously be acting like that because of something as minor and irrelevant as this. I thought we’d already talked about this.”

Completely forgetting every past conversation, Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Minor and irrelevant,” he repeated, an undeniable snarl in his voice. “Is that what this is? At this point, you spend as much time with him as you do with me.”

“Why is that a problem?” you challenged. “We’d already agreed you wouldn’t do this! I am allowed to hang out with my friends. You have no reason – or no right, for that matter – to react like that. You know there’s nothing going on.”

“I’m not—”

“And I spend even more time with Inna than I do with Namjoon,” you cut him off, “why was she never an issue?”

“Oh, so, Inna, Namjoon, and I are all the same to you?”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see through the trap he must have set for you with this question. “Yes.”

“Oh, how brilliant,” Jungkook scoffed, pushing himself off the wall and turning his back to you as he spat, “your three closest friends.”

“I wouldn’t say—”

He turned around suddenly, his gaze full of blazing fire. “Do you kiss them the way you kissed me last week?”

His words seemed to punch you right in your lungs and all breath left them as you stood there, trying desperately to inhale and suddenly feeling a lot more drunk than he was, despite not having had a single drop of alcohol tonight.

“I didn’t think we were going to talk about that,” you said lamely, all conflict having left you along with your breath. It wasn’t really a response to his question but it was the best you could do when he was looking at you like that.

“We weren’t,” he said. “But only because I could see how much you didn’t want to. I could tell you were pushing me away—”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he interrupted you before you could properly interrupt him, and continued his tirade, “and I understand your reasons. I left you seven years ago and friends aren’t supposed to do that. They don’t abandon friends.”

Faced with this point-blank truth, you were forced to lower your eyes to the floor as you attempted to lie, “I-I didn’t—”

“I told you of my reasons back then,” Jungkook said, not needing your excuses. He knew what the truth was and he didn’t blame you for feeling insecure. “I wanted to keep you safe from myself. And maybe I have my reasons now, too.”

“What?” your stomach dropped. When you looked up at him again, he was already standing a few steps closer to you. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to walk away from you,” he said, spilling his next words in one single breath, “but I can’t handle just fake-dating you because the thought of someone else dating you for real, makes me want to tear the fucker up to pieces.”

You didn’t say anything, not entirely sure if you understood his speedy delivery correctly or if your heart was banging against your ribs for no reason.

“And maybe that’s why I should leave,” he spoke then, taking another step towards you and taking over your personal space not with just his words, but with his presence, too. “But we’re both adults now. I’m still learning how to properly be one, but I’d already missed one opportunity to be with you and I can’t miss another one. So, even though I should, I can’t fucking leave. I don’t want to.”

Speaking quietly, you asked, “then don’t.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said and you couldn’t find it in yourself to lift your eyes to his and settled on watching his lips instead, which was about ten times worse, “I am—I’m in love with you and I don’t want to be the same as the rest of your friends for you. And I really don’t fucking want to be the same as Namjoon.”

“Namjoon—he drove me here,” you found yourself saying as your mind short-circuited, “to look for you. He’s kind and understanding but neither of us are interested in one another. He… I think he always knew that my heart was elsewhere.”

This time, it was Jungkook who needed a full explanation, not an off-handed excuse. “Where?”

Right here, you would have said but you chose to show him instead as you leaned in closer, removing the remaining bits of distance between you by gently touching his lips with yours.

Jungkook reacted immediately, responding to you and refusing to let you pull away by placing one of his hands on your right elbow and another one on your waist. He wasted a split-second when he pulled back to inhale, but then he made up for it by kissing you again, his lips closing against yours in a tight lip-lock.

You pulled back, however, a smacking noise echoing around the hallway as you did, whispering to him, “are you still drunk?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jungkook replied breathlessly before pressing his lips to yours again.

Kissing him back and feeling how the quick, gentle pecks turned into deep, open-mouthed kisses as his tongue caressed your lower lip before making its way into your mouth, made your mind hazy and you were forced to hold onto him tighter.

He sighed into the kiss; the feeling of you clutching the flaps of his jacket was more than enough to make him lose his mind.

And then you let go suddenly, pulling away yet again.

“Are you going to do it again?” you asked because you had to hear him say it. “Are you going to leave? Stop talking to me?”

To be honest, Jungkook would have promised you the world in that moment. Hell, he’d have promised you the whole universe when you looked at him like that – with eyes full of need and parted lips as you tried to catch your breath.

“Never,” he told you.

You seemed to read his mind. “You better not be saying that so we could keep kissing.”

He could have laughed at this if he didn’t know how much this meant to you – how much this meant to you-and-him – but he did know, and that’s why he took your hand, pulling it away from the flap of his denim jacket, and placing it squarely on his chest.

“I promise,” he said in tandem with his heartbeat.

Your lips crashed against each other again and the collision could have had painful consequences if your hands wouldn’t have been there to soften it. You held onto one another, pulling each other closer despite already touching everywhere it was possible to touch.

You could still taste the alcohol on his tongue but you could also taste him – mint and strawberries – especially when he used one of his hands to tilt your face in the right angle that allowed his tongue to play with yours. And then, as if he’d just snapped his fingers, you completely forgot about your surroundings and focused on kissing him back.

His touch ignited your skin and, as soon as he lifted the corner of your shirt and barely grazed your bare hip with the tips of his fingers, you already knew he’d started a fire you couldn’t put out.

In a rare moment when your mind cleared – all because Jungkook needed to inhale before he kissed you again – you realized that you were still in the hallway where, technically, anyone could have seen you.

Except that didn’t scare you much.

What scared you was this very realization: you wouldn’t have cared who saw you here, as long as he was still so close.

“My keys,” you whispered. He understood what you were saying – and what you implied by that – but he’d have rather been struck by lightning than voluntarily pulled away from you.

And so, forgetting your sanity for a yet another moment, you cherished in the feeling of his lips on yours, letting him push you against the wall next to your door.

Only when his body was pressed so tightly against yours that you found yourself trapped in the most delightful way possible, did you realize that this wasn’t going to be enough and you needed to leave the hallway before it escalated.

“Jungkook—” you tried again, pulling away this this time. Naturally, he lowered his head to kiss the side of your face instead, going down to your jawline and planting kisses on your neck, all while you desperately tried to find the keys in your handbag, your hands – and your entire body – shaking. “I can’t—ah, please, let me—the door—”

Jungkook would have pulled away from you if you’d asked but you weren’t asking – you didn’t want him to. And he had a hard time focusing on what you were saying anyway, especially when the beginning of his name never left the tip of your tongue.

Finally, your fingers located your keychain and pulled it out from your handbag. But blindly unlocking the door proved to be even more difficult than finding the keys.

Had you been less lost in each other, you could have stopped kissing for one minute to enter your dorm room, but any thought of disconnecting your mouths and bodies seemed ridiculous and impractical. Why would you waste your time by not kissing each other?

You managed to push the key into the lock through sheer luck, and then, hoping to open the door, you took a step forwards, away from the wall and into Jungkook – who didn’t mind being the one who held you, not letting you get too far away from him.

The speed with which you entered your room once the door was opened, would have probably knocked you both off your feet. But God favored those who were in love, and, the thing that you ended up knocking down, was just the bowl for keys that you and Inna kept by the door. You couldn’t have cared less about it – you barely even heard it clatter against the floor.

Following the invisible pull towards your bed, you and Jungkook successfully maneuvered past the door frame separating the bedroom area from the hallway, and – only stumbling once, when he pulled back to take his jacket off – you finally reached the privacy of your room.

“If you want me to stop,” Jungkook mumbled against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours as he held your body against his; your bed was right behind you and you knew you’d have fallen on it with the smallest push from him, “you have to tell me now because—” he kissed you again with the same raw hunger as before, “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave otherwise.”

“No,” you breathed, matching the intensity of his kisses with your own, “don’t stop.”

And that was the permission he needed to nudge you forwards until he landed on top of you on your bed, leaning on his elbows on either side of you. It was so similar to the way you’d made out on Sunday night in his parents’ house, and yet, it was so different, too, because you were past the point of caring about any interruptions now.

If someone knocked on your door right then – if someone walked in – you wouldn’t have even flinched.

Lifting your shirt and exposing more of your skin for his impatient fingers to explore, Jungkook was forced to break the kiss again, so he could fully take the garment off. And then he had to pause again so he could take a quick breather because of how ethereal you looked like this: half-naked and daring him to keep going with your eyes.

“Jungkook,” your soft whisper brought him back to life and helped him realize that this time, he wasn’t dreaming. This time, he had you here with him.

And so, he took his own shirt off before leaning down to kiss you again – clumsily and sloppily – and the new feeling of his bare skin against yours was enough for you to arch your back off the bed, all so you could feel more of him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed before bringing his hands up your sides and kissing down your neck. Encouraged by the sound of your whimpers when he gently brought his teeth over the spot below your collarbone, he sucked on the skin there with more force, leaving faint bruises.

Your hands slid down to his waist – reaching for the buckle of his belt – but they froze when you felt his tongue soothe over the new mark he’d made on your neck. It stung but you felt more pleasure than pain and, for a good minute, that pleasure was all you could focus on.

You felt his fingertips dance around the edge of your bra and heavy breaths left his lips when he brought his face back to yours, stopping just close enough to feel the pull of your lips, but far enough to still be able to look you in the eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, successfully undoing your bra in his first attempt – he wouldn’t have called himself an expert in that particular area; he was just determined to always get what he wanted and he wanted you.

You barely had enough time to hum in response before he lowered his face and reconnected your lips, sliding the straps of your bra down your shoulders in a motion so slow, you nearly threw him off the bed and did it yourself.

Instead, you chose to concentrate on finally undoing his belt, which wasn’t going well due to how badly your hands were shaking. But, once you finally succeeded and got through to the zipper of his jeans, it seemed like Jungkook was no longer so dead-set on taking this slow, either.

“Oh,” a sigh passed your lips when he threw your bra to a side and repositioned himself in-between your legs, his hips grinding into yours in a dangerously satisfying way that only left you wanting more. “Please, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he spoke and his normally melodious voice seemed deeper now.

He placed a kiss to your lips again and then pulled away to slide your jeans down your legs, tossing them aside before bringing his hands over the bare skin of your ankles, then up your calves, over your knees, and down your thighs again.

“Jungkook,” you tried again, “do something, please.”

“Hmm,” he wasn’t entirely aware of his surroundings as he cherished in the feeling of your skin right under his fingertips. He had to touch – to feel – all of you, so every bit of your body, every crevice and every wrinkle, remembered him.

Your breath got caught in your throat when he finally reached the waistband of your panties, and Jungkook was convinced he was going to die when he took them off of you – but he didn’t mind dying in the slightest, not if he got to see you like this first.

“I’m going to make you feel so,” he said, lifting your hips off the bed—just barely—so he could slide your panties down your legs, “so good.”

And he resolved to show you that he meant it, peppering the insides of your thighs with butterfly kisses that were the complete opposite of the tight grip he had on you.

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, he felt the way your body shuddered in anticipation as his kisses neared your core and he could feel his own pants tighten uncomfortably around his now rock-hard length.

Placing a soft, chaste kiss right above your clit, Jungkook heard your deep breath and that encouraged him to keep going, applying more force to his kisses as he went lower. Finally, just as your hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets underneath you, he spread your lower lips with his tongue and lightly—so lightly, that you weren’t sure you didn’t just imagine this—licked his way up to your clit.

“Oh, shit,” you threw your head back and Jungkook – who’d already proved how much positive reinforcements meant to him – released a guttural breath that vibrated against your core.

The sensation added more to the blissful feeling of his tongue as he finally flattened it against your mound, licking and sucking with a loud and sloppy slurping sound.

You gasped when the previously teasing motions increased in speed and his tongue circled around your entrance, touching and tasting you in clockwise movements, never forgetting to pay special attention to the most sensitive spots on and around your clit.

“You taste so sweet,” Jungkook spoke breathlessly and you struggled to understand him not just because of how good he was making you feel with his mouth, but also because he did not pull away far enough and his words quavered against your core. “Talk to me.”

“I-I’m—that’s good,” you tried to say but your head was spinning, “so good, you—oh! Oh, fuck, Jungkook!”

Almost screaming out in surprise, you felt his fingers against your core, gentle and careful for the first second, but eager and energetic the next as Jungkook explored the wetness around your entrance. Bringing his tongue over your clit, he slid two of his fingers inside, ready to stop and wait for your reaction but that was not needed.

Arching your back off the bed, you sighed deeply and pleaded far louder than you’d intended, “p-please—”

Smirking to himself as you struggled to finish your sentences, he sped up his movements, not giving you a moment to collect your breath as he rubbed the insides of your walls with his fingers and sucked on your clit, the slow movements of his tongue contrasting with how quickly he was moving inside of you.

“Good girl,” he said, his hot breath against your core making your whole body tingle. He felt one of your hands touch his hair, grabbing onto it; softly at first, but gradually pulling harder when the circling motions of his fingers sped up. “Are you close, baby? Tell me.”

You were close – and the pet name only increased the burning pleasure inside of you – but, at that point, you were only capable of moaning weakly, “hmmm, yes. Don’t stop, please, d-don’t—”

Gasping again as Jungkook removed his mouth from you, readjusting himself on the bed so he could move his fingers in and out of you quicker, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to keep your sounds to a minimum.

“Nngh—so close,” you spoke and just then, you felt his thumb rub vicious circles on your clit. The motion was so delicious, you were forced to abandon your attempts to stay quiet, almost shouting when you felt your walls tighten, already so close to your edge.

He could feel you clench around his fingers – a feeling that did no good to the painful hardness in his pants – and applied more force to his movements, maintaining the same speed that allowed him to pay equal attention to your swollen clit and the soft walls inside of you.

“Come for me,” he said, his voice coarse. “I want to watch you come for me, baby, please.”

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you groaned, barely able to catch your breath as he thrust his fingers in and out of you, circling and curling them in a way that was just right, until the knot in your stomach unraveled with a pop so strong, your whole body seemed to lift up from the bed as you whimpered, unable to make any other noise.

Watching you lose control of your body, Jungkook used his free hand to hold you down as he kept the pace up with his fingers while you rode out your high. Barely any sound left your mouth when you reached your peak but your heavy breaths and the rise and fall of your chest as you came still overflooded his senses.

Jungkook didn’t think it was healthy to need someone this much.

When you opened your eyes a moment later, still breathing heavily, he was hovering above you, leaning on one arm as he sucked on his fingers, exhaling shakily when you bit your lip.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to have you here like this,” he said, “how long I’ve wanted to hear you sound like this.”

Still overwhelmed and momentarily rendered speechless by the strength of your climax, you replied to him by sitting up so you could reach his lips with yours.

Kissing him – and hearing him growl into the kiss as soon as your hips pressed into his, adding pressure against his hard length – you could distinctly taste yourself on his tongue, but Jungkook wasn’t going to give you a lot of time to analyze all the different sensations you were feeling; he flipped you over until he was on his back, and you were straddling his hips.

Being on top of him gave you a lot more control of the situation, but it also made the shaking of your hands all the more obvious. You lifted yourself off him slightly to slide his jeans and boxers down, not bothering with teasing him – even though, that would have been the fair thing to do, considering how slowly he’d undressed you before.

He didn’t regret that one bit – that was plain obvious in the darkness of his lustful eyes that followed your every move – but he did wish you went a little faster because each brush of your hands right by his length made him think he was going to explode.

“There’s a condom,” he said, swallowing, “in the pocket of my jacket.”

You had to look around the room to find the jacket and, when you located it, it still took you a few minutes to get the glittering wrapper out. Biting your lip as you made your way back to Jungkook – sprawled almost helplessly on your bed – you couldn’t help yourself.

“Do you always carry condoms around in the pocket of your—”

“No,” he replied, obviously not very interested in discussing his condom-bearing habits when you were unwrapping the packaging with your teeth after your fingers weren’t enough.

“Ah, so today was a special occasion?” you asked, smiling teasingly because your heart wasn’t really in this conversation, either – you could analyze why he’d brought the condoms with him later.

Unrolling some of the latex in your hands, your fingers finally touched his length as you pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it down his shaft. Jungkook exhaled with a low grunt, not particularly enjoying himself in a position this vulnerable – he didn’t think the simple act of putting a condom on had ever aroused him this much before – but not being able to do anything about it because this was you.

And if you wanted to take your time with the condom – since you seemed to double-check to make sure if it was really properly on; he thought you were just teasing him, really – then, he was going to let you take your time.

For the first twenty seconds, anyway.

Just as you raised your eyes to meet his, Jungkook sat up and pulled you closer to him, only lying back down on the bed when he made sure his arms were wrapped around your body, which was pressed against his as tightly as he could manage without breaking any of your ribs with his arms.

“If I wait any longer,” he whispered, his mouth so close to yours, you could almost taste him as he spoke, “I’m really going to pass out.”

“Well,” you said, your heart beating wildly behind your ribcage and echoing against his chest, “then don’t wait.”

“Fuck,” was the last word that left his mouth before he connected your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss and sat up a bit to reach his length with his hand and position himself at your entrance. “Tell me if you want me to stop.

“Mmhmm—oh,” your hum of approval was quick to turn into a shaky gasp as his length slid inside of you, stretching you out far more than his fingers had before.

He watched your facial expression the whole time, entering you slowly, inch by inch, so he could stop if he noticed any pain. Mercifully, the only thing he noticed in your eyes was a silent plea to keep going – well, that, and the fact that you did most of the job for him by lowering yourself on him until he was fully inside of you – and Jungkook was sure of it: he was most certainly going to lose it.

“I’m not going to last long,” he warned breathlessly, “you’re s-so tight—you feel so good—I—”

His grip on you had loosened, which allowed you to place one hand on his chest and push him into the bed, until his head landed back on the pillow. As soon as he bottomed out inside of you, he stopped and you closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing for a second, before you looked up at him again and lifted your hips.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook whispered, his hands clutching your hips so tightly, he was probably going to leave imprints there.

Lowering yourself on him again, you sighed deeply, unsure what brought you more pleasure – the sight of his starved gaze and swollen lips as he allowed you to set the pace, or the feeling of his length, caressing your inner walls and reaching places so deep inside of you, you could have used a warning.

“Y-you’re so—mm, good,” you mewled, your hips rising and falling on top of him as you tried to get used to the feeling but failed, your walls clenching around him each time you moved.

“Baby,” Jungkook said and it was almost a whine, “I need you to go faster. Can you do that for me?”

“Hmm,” you weren’t sure what he was saying.

Your senses were malfunctioning as you lost yourself in the feeling, so, instead of going faster, you lowered yourself until you could feel your walls hug his entire length. You stayed still for a moment, but hearing him sigh in desperation, you finally started to move again – grinding your hips against his quicker.

“O-oh,” the sudden change of pace took him off guard as Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut. The feeling of your warmth wrapped so tightly around him was pure bliss. “That’s good. Y-you’re doing so good.”

You continued to move on top of him, grinding your hips in large and smaller figure-eights, as Jungkook slid his hands up and down your sides, feeling your silky skin and gently kneading your breasts. He brought his fingertips over your sensitive nipples and, noticing how your breath got caught in your throat as soon as he did, he applied more pressure to his touch.

“Jungkook,” you said weakly and then completely lost your voice when he sat up – suddenly reaching even deeper inside of you, even though that probably shouldn’t have even been possible – and brought his tongue to your nipple, carefully toying with it at first, and then sucking harder later.

Your hips were still moving against his but you were losing your stamina, not at all helped by the fact that his smallest touch nearly tipped you over the edge.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you sighed and, somewhere in his own name, he heard the request for him to take over.

Fully immersed in the feeling of having you on top of him, Jungkook had no plans to change the position. He pulled away from your breasts, licking his lips, and then, finding a more fitting position on the bed, he locked both of your arms behind you by wrapped a hand around your waist and lifting his hips off the mattress.

He roughly thrust into you once – and then once more because he couldn’t stop himself – and then paused to gauge your reaction. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were closed, but your parted lips and the excited movement of your hips as they met his when he moved, was a clear indication that you didn’t mind the faster pace.

“Look at me,” he instructed, not moving until you did. “Good girl.”

Finally, he slammed his hips into yours again, this time not pausing for a single second, even though both of you were completely breathless already. His length drilled into you, rubbing your walls until the fire in your stomach started to spread and you involuntarily closed your eyes again, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“Jungkook—”

“What did I tell you, baby?” he asked, holding your hands behind your back with one of his arms, as he used his other hand to bring your face to his again. You opened your eyes. “That’s it. Are you close?”

“Hmm—I-I’m—” the next words didn’t come out when Jungkook straightened his posture and thrust into you with enough force to send you backwards until you were laying flat on your back again. “Fuck, I’m really close.”

His hips continued the relentless pace but he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep going, especially with the way you squeezed around him each time he re-entered your warmth. You could already feel your orgasm creeping in as you bit your lip and felt your vision go out of focus, the ceiling of your room spinning as the whole place seemed to shake from the force of his hips.

“Don’t look away,” Jungkook spoke, breathing heavily and setting himself up for failure because he nearly collapsed as soon as you returned your eyes to his – all dark and clouded with near-euphoric delight. “I want you to look at me when you come, yeah? Will you do that for me, baby—please?”

“Y-yes—” you managed, barely getting the word out before you felt Jungkook readjust his weight by leaning on one arm and lowering his other one to your core.

He brought his thumb over your clit and, matching the speed of his hips thrusting in and out of you, he began to rub circles on your already over-stimulated center.

“Jungkook!” you weren’t sure if you were screaming, your heartbeat was too loud in your ears as you felt yourself tip over the edge. “Oh, fuck, fuck—right there!”

“Y-yeah? Does that feel good, baby?,” he groaned, “I can’t hold out for much longer, so I’m going to need you to come for me. Hmm?”

“I’m—please, fuck—” your pleas turned into an incomprehensible mess when Jungkook applied more pressure to your clit, flicking it before rubbing it in circles again, and you were completely done for.

Throwing your head back against the mattress and lifting your hips to meet his, you reached your high and Jungkook – cursing and trying his hardest not to lose his balance – bit his lip because he knew he was going to follow right after you.

His hips had slowed, although only a little, as he continued the assault on your senses by thrusting his throbbing member into you and simultaneously rubbing your clit all through your orgasm.

Your warm walls that hugged his length tightened around him when you came and, groaning loudly, he felt his own climax take over him. He stopped moving with one final thrust into you, loud grunts mixed with your name leaving his lips as he released himself into the condom.

Breathing heavily but still not getting enough oxygen, you both stayed still as you tried to recover.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook exhaled when he regained some control of his body. His eyes met yours and he did not hesitate before adding, “I love you. I’ve loved you for so fucking long.”

You allowed a heavy moment of silence to pass as you watched him. Then, you propped yourself up on your elbows and brought your lips to his. The kiss may have been less enthusiastic than the one in the hallway earlier tonight, but it still didn’t lack any heat.

“I love you,” you replied, the words as pointless as they were necessary, because your feelings for each other had been obvious from the very beginning, but neither of you confronted them. “I’ve loved you for much longer.”

“No,” he disagreed, kissing you again as he pulled out of you and rolled off to the edge of the bed so he could discard of the condom. Turning to look at you one more time before standing up, he said, very matter-of-fact, “I’ve loved you my whole life. Through every happy moment and every fuck-up, and every—”

With your lips stretching into a smile, you warned, “don’t try to one-up me with your pillowtalk.”

He already had his back turned to you as he walked towards the bin in the corner of your room, but you heard him laugh. When he turned around to return to you, there was a wide smile on his bright, red lips, still wet and swollen from kissing you.

“That’s not pillowtalk,” he countered, laying down next to you and draping an arm over your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck with a delighted hum, “that’s just me telling you what I was supposed to tell you on the day I talked to you at my party.”

“I’m glad you told me now,” you replied, lifting one of your hands to touch his disheveled hair and the few stray curls that were stuck to his sweaty forehead, “even if you did cause a scene today.”

The softness of your touch was almost the exact opposite of the hidden razor-sharp meaning behind your words. Jungkook – who’d closed his eyes so he could breathe you in – suddenly lifted himself up on his elbows and gave you an inquiring look.

“I did not cause a scene,” he said, not in a very defensive manner because he did not think he needed to defend himself, “I was peacefully waiting for you to come back home. You caused a scene when you saw me.”

“I—oh, wow,” you scoffed in surprise, “you really are an expert at blame-shifting.”

He would have protested – and he was going to – but laying here next to you, with not a single piece of clothing preventing him from feeling the softness of your skin, he just shrugged. There were far more important things to focus on, he decided as he traced indiscernible patterns on your navel.

“Don’t do that again, though, okay?” you asked him then.

Smiling – because he was proud of his title as the resident Little Shit – Jungkook replied, “which part, exactly?”

The feeling of his fingertips dancing on your stomach was distracting, but you persevered for the greater good.

“Don’t change all of your plans if I spend time with someone else,” you said, swallowing. “Don’t put yourself in danger.”

“I won’t.”

His promise was brief but he leaned down to kiss you to seal it, and the feeling of his lips against yours had more impact than just his words alone. Then, pulling away a moment too soon, Jungkook surprised you with a warning look in his eyes.

“But don’t ask me not to kiss you in public,” he said. “Don’t ask me not to hold your hand. Don’t—”

You blinked, not following him. “W-wait, why? I wasn’t going to ask.”

“No, but you already did. At the last party we went to?” he said and then tried to jog your memory by adding, in a vexed tone, “when you were talking to Brock, and I—”

The party – and the long, long conversation that followed – returned to your mind even before the mention of Brock. You were just trying to understand why Jungkook was thinking about all of that now.

“Well, that’s because you were being a possessive dipshit,” you told him as an explanation, not an excuse.

You weren’t apologizing for standing up for yourself when you felt like your dignity was threatened, and he didn’t need you to. What he needed, was for you to understand that:

“I still am a possessive dipshit,” he said with the most unapologetic grin you’d ever seen adorning his features.

“Oh, yeah?” you raised your eyebrows, the mock-surprise completing your sarcastic look, “would not have guessed.”

“Funny,” he leaned down to kiss you again before making it clear, “I can’t stop myself from wanting everyone to know—”

“But they do know,” you said, cutting him off but not sharply, “everyone knows, Jungkook. You’ve made your point.”

“No, people still have doubts about us,” he said, “they’re still not fully convinced that you’re—that we’re together,” he paused, flashing back to the night at the party and remembering the words you’d said to him then, “but they don’t matter. It’s not about them. It’s about us. And I don’t want to imply that I own you or that you’re an object—or anything of the sort. I know you’re a person. You’re a great person. And you belong to yourself. You’re yours. B-but can you be a little bit mine, too?”

“I am,” you said and, even though you may not have always liked it, this was the truth. There was no way around it. So, pressing a soft kiss to his waiting lips, you admitted, “I’ve always been yours as much as I’ve been mine.”

keep reading | masterlist

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts college au #bts reactions #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #smut #fanfiction #college au #bts x reader #bts au #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfiction #fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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brand-new-stars · 4 years

Note

Hewwo new writing blog 🥰🥰 could I request ritsu eichi and mika general dating hcs? Wish you the best of the best 🥰🥰

- rabbit "anon", im proud of u for this sweetie

B,,BB,,BB,,BB,,,YOUR BUNINESS??? ABASJNLANSFS omg im kinda honored rn asfaflnaf. also sorry they all might be ooc-

Sakuma Ritsu, Tenshouin Eichi and Kagehira Mika General Dating Headcanons!

"𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔟𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭. 𝔍𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞 𝔫𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔫𝔞𝔭, 𝔱𝔬𝔬."

💤 expect being this vampire’s pillow. he will grab you and place you down before laying his head on your lap at any opportunity given.

💤 you’ll often be asked to take ritsu to knights’ practice. there are times where izumi is not patient enough so he makes his way and drags the boy to the practice while complaining about how slow you were being, while other times you successfully place him in a piggyback position and bring him to his unit.

💤 will definitely leave bite marks on your neck, so no one attempts to steal you away from him.

💤 lots, lots, lots of cuddles coming from this boy. he’s like a sloth that won’t ever let go of that tree branch. he will leech your attention and wants to monopolize it.

💤 he will have one of his genius nicknames (maa-kun, ecchan, mikarin, etc) for you, and will expect one back. will reject ricchan from you though, that’s for mao only.

💤 his unit is filled with mixed feelings about you dating ritsu. arashi and tsukasa think that it’s sweet, izumi doesn’t care in a mean way (or so he says), and leo somehow finds ways to embarass you through your relationship (although he usually just says them without thinking).

💤 while mao approves, he can’t help but to worry about the things ritsu makes you do, and it’s almost like you’re his second babysitter. you do admit that you do not mind though (and you can watch his sleeping expression for a moment, not too long because that might be creepy).

💤 will immediately keep you away from rei. ritsu does not want you to leave him like rei did during the war, and is secretly paranoid that rei might influence you. he will refuse to answer his brother’s questions about you.

💤 he is only suspicious, but you are already helping rei with getting back with ritsu.

💤 ritsu will definitely drag you into tea club activities and asks for you to feed him small snacks. there are times where he seductively takes your wrist, brings it close to his face, eat the snack in your hand and even lick the little crumbs.

💤 has once clinged onto you when sleeping in the same bed.

💤 “(nickname), I only want you to look at me, and only me~”

"𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔰, 𝔦𝔣 𝔦𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩, 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢. 𝔗𝔬 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔫𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔦𝔢."

☕ eichi is known by his poor health, so yes, there will be daily visits in the hospital.

☕ but when he is allowed to be out of it, expect him to spoil you rotten. this expensive looking object you’ve been eyes for a while? he will pay it for you. that delicious sweet displayed at that bakery? bought, and now you both are sharing it.

☕ you often fret about his health. he assures you that he’s fine, but you cannot help but to worry.

☕ he’s so excited to try new things with you, as he had spend most of his time being sickly. you tried to go to the amusement park once! he ended up being dizzy by most of the rides.

☕ “oh? is this what they call a hotdog?” you can’t help but to smile at how innocent and cute he was being.

☕ besides looking up to wataru, now he has you. you, who are so kind and patient with his circunstances, of what he has done in the past in order to be where he is right now. it’s almost like he has his own guardian angel.

☕ his unitmates are very happy to see you two together, although tori tends to act like an entilted brat and tell you that he is still eichi’s favorite, he notices that eichi’s expression brightens even more around your presence. yuzuru, as always, acts politely towards you, and will often point out things about eichi’s behavior to you as well. wataru? he’s already writting down a play inspired by your relationsihp together. he’s also the one who often lists advices towards his unit leader.

☕ meanwhile in the tea club, ritsu at first won’t really care and just demands your blood (eichi has stopped him), but afterwards you’re basically spoiling him like a mother to his child. how hajime acts around you is just the cutest. he’s trying his best to make you feel welcomed into the club, will make tea for you (you help him sometimes) and soon he’s like yours and eichi’s baby child.

☕ will sometimes use his status as the student council president to call you over to his office. but honestly, he just missed seeing your beautiful face. keito is annoyed by this, and mao can only chuckle nervously.

☕ also have I ever mentioned power couple?

☕ you’ll probably ending up being his executioner

☕ “my dear, wonderful s/o... I hope you can stand by my side until I go...”

"ℑ 𝔡𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔬 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱’𝔰 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔞𝔫’ 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱’𝔰 𝔴𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤... ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫’𝔱 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰."

⏳ poor guy has no idea what to do in a relationship. heck, he never imagined that he of all people would be in one.

⏳ he will try his darn bestest, even though there were attempts that ended not as planned.

⏳ he might not be the smartest nor the strongest, but you’re dead wrong if you think that he won’t do anything for you.

⏳ also please don’t treat him wrong otherwise shu, arashi and nazuna will go after your head.

⏳ speaking of them... shu doesn’t really mind you two being together as long as you don’t distract mika for too long. he might say harsh things towards you both, but he’s secretly watching for you. and without realizing, he takes you under his wing.

⏳ at first, you were intimidated by mika’s oshi-san. but after the slow connection you’ve formed, you feel comfortable enough to stand up for mika when shu says some of the most absurd things.

⏳ arashi became a beam of energy once she found out that mika was dating you. words cannot describe of how happy she felt for you both. did mika went through with her advice? what was your reaction? she has so many questions for you two, and will sometimes trick you both into going dates with just you both.

⏳ yes, you’re both from the mika protection squad. that nasty oshi-san will soon learn his place.

⏳ there are times where mika will attempt to make dolls and gift them to you. they don’t look the greatest, that’s true, but you place them on your shelves nonetheless. it’s your boyfriend’s hardwork, after all!

⏳ calling himself a doll, mika is someone who needs lots of reassurance since he has no confidence with his own skills and capacities. tell him that he’s doing good, and he will be extremely happy.

⏳ mika is still a boy who’s learning about being his own self and being a significant other as well. the start might be rocky, but he’s the most loyal one you’ll ever know and will go lenghts to make you happy.

⏳ “(nickname)...thank you for everythin’ you’ve done for a failure like me. i swear I’ll love ya as twice--no, as thousand times as you do!”

#enstars headcanons #ensemble stars headcanon #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars #tenshouin eichi #eichi tenshouin #ritsu sakuma #sakuma ritsu #kagehira mika #mika kagehira

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

Note

Request:

Pairing: Tom x oc/reader

Summary:

Tom and oc go to the slug club yearly galla and oc is the loud Gryffindor 2nd in class and her and tom have been nemesis for long but the sexual tension is real and then tom sees her dancing with potter ..

Slughorn is like “ahh two of my favourite students” and he introduced them to a lot of people and a little girl spills something on tom and oc defends the girl and slughorn is like why dont you help him change oc ( as tom had some injury and was drenched and couldn’t change on his own ) and when they fight all the way to his dorm and she only agrees because slughorn tells her to and then when she helps him out of his shirt there is a lot of sexual tension and then kiss or maybe have sex in his dorm

And in the end she ends up sleeping on his bed and he like sees her face glisten in the moon light and is like fuck i like her even though he was trying to convince himself he didnt care abt her throughout the party ? And in the morning she is like well you slytherins have great beds you rich aristocrats or something and he just laughs and kisses her and malfoy is like well who would have thought the slytherin ice cold king and the Gryffindor lioness

I dont know feel free to change it up and if you donr want to then thats ok too it would mean a great deal to me if you write it no pressure tho..( going anon because i am shy )

~ red

Heyyy so I took a few liberties and this is gonna be a two parter because I have zero chill apparently but I hope you like this, Red!

Next part will be up in a day or two :)

Never Gonna Give (You Up) Pt.1

You smile up at him as innocently as you can. You know you shouldn’t bait him. You know you’re being immature. You know that if this night descends into one of your usual verbal sparring matches you won’t be impressing anyone, let alone Christella Beaufort. But something about him brings out the worst in you. Makes you feel slightly wrong-footed which in turn makes you want to push and needle until he reacts.

You take a moment to marvel at the decorations for this year’s Saturnalia party. Every year, Slughorn seems to set himself an unofficial challenge to out-do himself with more elaborate designs. This year, the theme is clear: gold. Just lots and lots of gold. From the tablecloths to the chairs, to the golden snowflakes that melt into nothing a couple of feet above your head, to the floor which has been charmed so that whenever you take a step you leave a shimmering footprint in your wake. It’s bright and festive and you can’t help but smirk at the thought of Tom Riddle being stuck in a room full of Gryffindor colours.

Speaking of the devil, you spy Riddle talking to Slughorn and one of the Ministry officials that often grace Slughorn’s get-togethers. You don’t particularly want to go over and talk to him, but you do want to make yourself known to Slughorn and find out if he managed to Christella Beaufort on the list this year. She’s the Head Curse-Breaker at Gringott’s, fiercely independent, highly intelligent, and so tenacious she had singlehandedly opened the door to witches wanting to go into the profession. In short, she’s your idol.

“Come on, Potter. We’ve got pleasantries to make and hands to grease.” You grab Fleamont’s hand who you’re attending the party with (as friends - you’ve made it very clear to him that you’re not interested in finding out whether his skills on a broom translate off the pitch). With that, you stride over to the drinks table where Slughorn and Riddle are chatting, Fleamont stumbling after you, his hand still locked in yours.

“Professor,” You greet Slughorn with a warm smile, “I have to say, you’ve outdone yourself once again. I’m particularly fond of the colour scheme this year.”

“Ahh, my dear girl, how lovely of you to join us!” Slughorn cries jovially. He pats your shoulder and you watch as his eyes slide to your hand, which is still clasped around Fleamonts. And (not that you care) you notice that Riddle’s eyes are also fixed on your intertwined hands. You let go of Fleamont’s hand and it has nothing to do with the frown that’s now marring Riddle’s brow. He casts a fond (and slightly calculating, truth be told) eye over the three of you. “My three best students! First, second, and third.” Your smile turns strained and over Slughorn’s shoulder, Riddle’s charming smile turns smug.

Slughorn introduces you to the Ministry official - a boring looking man who you promptly forget the name of but who Fleamont seems entirely taken by. Before you know it, Potter has abandoned you to talk shop with Slughorn and Mr Ministry and you’re left with Riddle.

Lovely.

Just. Lovely.

At least there’s champagne. The other professors might disapprove but in all your years of Slug Club Saturnalias, Slughorn has never once skimped on the champagne. You reach for a glass and look at Riddle with a critical eye, searching for any imperfections. Frustratingly, you can’t find any. Riddle is, as per usual, the most handsome man in the room. Pale skin, impossibly dark eyes, refined features and cheekbones as sharp as his tongue. Metaphorically speaking. Though the idea of Riddle with a forked tongue is enough to make you snort into your champagne flute.

Riddle’s attention snaps to you and he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, impatient, annoyed with you already and making absolutely no attempt to hide it. “Did you find something amusing?”

“Oh, no. I was just taking in your general appearance,” You say, waving a handle vaguely towards him. You smile up at him as innocently as you can. You know you shouldn’t bait him. You know you’re being immature. You know that if this night descends into one of your usual verbal sparring matches you won’t be impressing anyone, let alone Christella Beaufort. But something about him brings out the worst in you. Makes you feel slightly wrong-footed which in turn makes you want to push and needle until he reacts. It doesn’t help that the rivalry you’ve had with him since first year has only become more intense and heated as you’ve gotten older.

His eyes narrow and he drags his gaze across your body. The moment stretches and your cheeks flame as his eyes follow the nip of your waist and the curve of your hips. Your mouth goes dry. Because this is another thing that you hate about Riddle: he never fails to make your stomach swoop. By the time he raises his eyes back to yours, his expression is one of ironic amusement. “Colour me impressed,” He murmurs, angling his body ever so slightly towards you and you have to force yourself not to take a step back. “You actually look… passable this evening.”

Prat.

You should walk away. You should find one of the fancy people that you’ve been desperate to meet since your invitation arrived a month ago.

You don’t.

You stay and bicker with Riddle, throwing increasingly caustic taunts and jibes at each other whilst you sip champagne and pretend that you’d rather be anywhere else. You realise about twenty minutes into a debate about Minister for Magic Spencer-Moon’s policies (you rather like the pro-muggle legislature he’s attempting to pass and Riddle thinks you’re being horribly naive) that Riddle is still here. Which, well, obviously he’s still here; he’s talking to you right now in that same condescending tone he uses to tell students off for staying out past curfew. But he doesn’t have to be. Riddle is as ambitious as you are, more so, even. So why has he spent most of the evening with you and not sucking up to the many rich and talented witches and wizards in attendance tonight?

You glance around the room, suddenly aware that it hadn’t even occurred to you to leave. You’ve been so wrapped up in your conversation that everything else had just sort of… faded away. For reasons you are unwilling to examine too closely, you feel yourself grow warm. Riddle is still talking, gesturing animatedly with his champagne flute, looking horrendously handsome and like… oh Merlin, he looks like he’s enjoying himself. And that is… Well, quite frankly, that’s enough to make your brain grind to halt from shock.

You’re saved from your inner turmoil by Fleamont who appears at your side and wraps a hand around your waist. Riddle’s expression shutters. He looks at Fleamont’s arm around your waist and sneers and, for reasons beyond your grasp, you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from explaining that Fleamont is just a friend. Fleamont, oblivious as always, grins and asks you to dance and you can’t bring yourself to look at Riddle as he leads you away to the dance floor.

Fleamont is a good dancer. You suppose this is to be expected from the heir to one of the oldest pureblood families in Britain. You imagine that he learnt to waltz before he learnt to walk. You try to focus on the dance, on the way that Fleamont spins you around the room causing your dress robes to fan out around you in an elegant circle but out of the corner of your eye you can see Riddle watching you. He’s subtle about it, you’re fairly sure that no one else would notice, but even as he makes conversation with a wizard you vaguely recognise as Ensio Kiimamaa, widely regarded as the leading Potions Master in contemporary wizarding society, his eyes flicker to where you’re dancing with Fleamont.

You’re really not sure what to make of it.

The dance ends, and Fleamont makes a show of bowing and offering you his arm, which you take with an exasperated laugh. “Let’s go talk to Kiimamaa, I hear he’s thinking about taking on apprentices next year.” As little as you want to go near Riddle for the rest of the night, you can’t think of a good reason to object, so you nod begrudgingly and walk over, trying to convince yourself that the trepidation you feel is a result of being introduced to Kiimamma and not because of the way Riddle’s looking at you.

You make your introductions and Kiimamma begins to explain his latest discovery: a highly acidic venom harvested from the Icelandic water-dwelling vatnaormar. He produces a vial of dark liquid, uncorks it and passes it around the three of you. “It’s highly dangerous to touch, but I’ve found that a sniff of it can induce heightened concentration and focus - I hope to find a way of incorporating it in a potion that’s safe to drink.”

Riddle holds the uncorked venom delicately between his fingers, raising it up to the light to observe the venom and then time seems to speed up and slow down all at once as you watch in horror as two things happen almost simultaneously.

First: A little girl, who you assume to be Kiimamma’s daughter, shakes free of Slughorn’s hold on her arm and bounds over, waving her arms excitedly before losing her balance and crashing into Riddle. Second: the uncorked vial slips from Riddle’s fingers and the venom arches in an elegant curve through the air before it splatters across Riddle’s chest.

The effect is immediate. The venom tears through Riddle’s dress robes in almost no time at all and his skin begins to burn, leaving awful red and pink welts on the pale skin of his chest. The little girl starts wailing and Slughorn and Kiimamma start flapping their hands.

Riddle’s eyes flash in pain and anger and embarrassment and he completely forgets his usual charm and grace as he rounds on the girl. Before he can start yelling at her as he so clearly intends to, you step forward and place your hand on the girl’s shoulder. “It was an accident, Riddle. She didn’t mean to.” You say and then add in a low tone so that only he can hear, “She’s his daughter. Don’t fucking yell at her.” His gaze snaps to yours and there’s a moment when you think he’s going to yell anyway before his jaw clenches and he gives you a single tight nod.

“Riddle, my poor boy, you must go to the hospital wing. Not to worry, I’m sure Madam Montague will be able to sort you out in a flash.” Later, you will be able to appreciate Slughorn’s ability to sound jolly in even the direst of circumstances. Right now, you just find it rather insensitive. Slughorn turns to you and with slightly pleading eyes asks you to escort Riddle. Try as you might, you can’t think of a good reason not to, so with a vaguely helpless glance to Fleamont, you grudgingly nod, scowling at the ground in annoyance.

You loop your arm through Riddle’s and he stiffens under your touch. You repress the urge to roll your eyes and begin to make your way out of the room, ignoring Riddle’s laboured breathing and the slight trembling of his shoulders. It’s only as you get to the door that you notice a tall, dark-haired witch with a jagged scar crossing the length of her face steps out of the floo. Christella Beaufort, the one person who you had wanted to meet tonight has arrived and you’re not going to get to even say hello.

(part 1) (part 2)

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