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jisungsmochi · 3 years

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nct dream reaction: them getting jealous when you are getting closer to another member

okay trust me, i’m writing some new fics, i just finished this first so here it is

mark:

i feel like he is the type of have A LOT of trust in his partner - without trust, he wouldn’t even be in a relationship with someone

he wouldn’t mind you having other guy friends, just as long as you were clear about your relationship with them

he knew that you and renjun were friends prior to your relationship

so naturally, he was aware that you guys were already close

but whenever he saw renjun lean in closer towards you whenever you were talking

or whispering small inside jokes into your ear

he couldn’t help but feel annoyed?

of course he trusted you, and he trusted renjun

but the sight of you two being so close made him feel uneasy

so he would opt to leave the room, not wanting to do or say anything he would regret

as i mentioned, he has a lot of trust in his partner, he wouldn’t want them to not trust him in return

you would run after mark the moment you heard the door close behind him

you approached him cautiously, your fingers softly tapping his shoulder

“hey, are you okay? did i say something?”

“no you didn’t say or do anything at all. it’s just me” he shrugged, fuelling your concern

“what’s up? you know you can tell me” mark begins to feel slightly embarrassed at this point

“i-i was jealous of you and renjun, okay? i know it’s silly” it caught you off guard, you never really saw mark as the jealous type

but this only meant that he really liked you

you shook your head playfully, wrapping your arms around his torso, smiling into his chest

“it’s not silly, you can tell me how you feel. i actually prefer it, rather than you leaving and staying quiet, you know?” mark just nods, his hand rubbing your back softly

he was so lucky to have someone like you in his life, everything felt complete

renjun:

hmm i have some mixed feelings about how he would react

i feel like he would go for someone who is independent and has their own strong personality

basically he would prefer a partner that isn’t too dependent on him, you know?

but when he sees how social / close you’ve become with jaemin, he’s about to lose it completely

jaemin was naturally flirty, and you were naturally enticing to be around

that mix was not a good look in renjun’s eyes

he wanted nothing more than to pry you away from his friend

but he didn’t want to be labelled as the ‘possessive’ or ‘overbearing’ boyfriend

you would always shift your eyes to make contact with renjun’s, assuring him that you were still paying attention to him

but it still wasn’t enough for him to stop feeling jealous

once jaemin laid his hand on your shoulder and moved closer to you (a little too close to comfort for renjun) — he snapped

renjun would excuse the both of you, pulling you along with him out of the room

“i-i don’t like jaemin touching you like that”

you found it slightly amusing that he was jealous. of course you took it as a friendly touch, but you understood how it looked to renjun

“that’s just how he is. you’re the only one i want to hold hands with” you link your hands with his tightly

he starts to go quiet

“and you’re the only one i want to kiss” you peck his cheek gently “like this”

renjun felt his cheeks heat up from the touch, immediately feeling shy infront of you

“o-okay, i just got jealous, that’s all” he pouted

“i know, and that’s okay! just remember that i’m all yours, and only yours, okay?”

jeno:

very very protective

makes it clear that he can get jealous but you had never seen it first hand

so when he saw you laugh a bit too hard at one of haechan’s jokes, he felt his heart slightly ache

‘i’m not as funny as haechan’

‘they looks so much happier with him’ he would think to himself

despite his tough exterior, jeno had a lot of insecurities inside

he doesn’t think he has ever seen you laugh that hard at one of his jokes before

so he starts to get quiet, distracting himself with his phone

suddenly the laugher stops as you make you way to sit down next to your boyfriend

he honestly would be a bit petty at first, only responding with one word answers, until haechan calls him out

“dude, get off your phone and talk to your partner”

“dude, how about you stop flirting with my partner then?” jeno grunts, causing the whole room to go quiet.

you felt so embarrassed, apologising to haechan quietly before dragging jeno away from the group

“what was that? it wasn’t cool, you have to apologise to him!” you folded your arms, not comprehending how jeno was feeling

“what? i’m not apologising. you obviously enjoyed his flirting!”

“jeno, you’re being quite unreasonable right now. it was just some harmless jokes, nothing more” you tried to reassure him

he knew you were right, but he was stubborn at times

“look at me” you brought his face between your palms

“go and apologise to haechan, and then we can go home and cuddle, and also have a deep talk about all of this. sound good?” you suggested

jeno nodded, placing a soft kiss to your forehead

he was whipped for you, this only solidified how he truly felt

haechan:

oh the pettiest of them all

would make it known he was NOT happy with you leaning in so close to mark

you were at a formal function for the celebration of their new album dropping

a lot of people attended, meaning you had to lean in closer than usual just to hear someone speak

haechan couldn’t hide his jealousy when you slapped mark’s shoulder playfully

“jeez, stop shooting holes into mark’s head!” jaemin joked, causing haechan to start glaring at him

renjun tried his best to call down the heated boy

“you know mark wouldn’t ever try anything, don’t get it all twisted in your head, alright?”

haechan just nodded, he knew renjun was just speaking facts

you eventually went to seek out your boyfriend, catching him by the drinks table

“hey, where have you been? i was looking everywhere for you”

“clearly not everywhere”

that caught you off guard

“excuse me? what’s your deal?”

haechan sighs at you, knowing that he shouldn’t have been snappy towards you

“let’s just not make it a bigger deal than it is, i was just jealous of how close you and mark were tonight. you barely talked to me, that’s all” he tried to shrug it off, but you knew him better than that

you placed a firm squeeze to your boyfriend’s shoulder

“if it upset you so much, you know you could have just talked to me? i would never intentionally ignore you like that, i was just so excited for tonight”

haechan nods, pulling you to his side slowly, his arm latched to your waist

“i know and i’m sorry, would you care to dance?” he slightly bit the side of his lip as you nodded enthusiastically

“of course i would” you would drag him to the dance floor as you swayed along to a random ballad playing through the speakers

the rest of the night was full of laughter and smiles once haechan realised he was worried for no damn reason

jaemin:

i see him as someone who can get easily jealous

if another guy even looked at you the wrong way, jaemin has his eyes on them

i feel like he does have self control tho and would choose to not act upon his jealousy

but one day he just snapped

you were playing video games with jeno while you were waiting for jaemin to come home

it wasn’t unusual for you to do so

but one time you didn’t greet jaemin when he came through the door because you were too engrossed in the game

he wouldn’t say anything at first, understanding that you just wanted to beat jeno’s ass

so he makes himself a sandwich before sitting down on the couch with you, pulling you to his side

you slightly shrug him off,

“hey, let me finish this round” you don’t even look at him, which made jeno chuckle

jaemin glared at his friend, but was still in shock by your reaction

“jaem, they’re good at this game, have you been teaching them?” jeno nudges you gently as he continued to play

jaemin was beyond pissed at this point

not only was his significant other ignoring him but his friend was sitting a little too close for his liking

he tries to grab your attention again, tugging on the sleeve of your hoodie, pressing his cheek to your shoulder

“baby, i missed you” he whispered in your ear, distracting you from the game, making you lose the round

“jaem, look what you did now!” you pout, turning to face him

jeno sensed there was tension and quickly scurried off to his own room

“i’m sorry i ruined your SUPER fun game with jeno” he scoffed

“oh please, you know we are just friends. the ONE time i don’t give you an ounce of attention, you wanna act up huh?”

jaemin was now pouting, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater

you let out a sigh before moving to sit closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder

“i’m sorry, i was just getting jealous of how close you guys are now, i want you to play games with me instead! i can teach you everything he can!”

you shook your head before linking your fingers with his

“i know you can, how about tomorrow? the whole day will be just for you and me!” jaemin’s eyes gleamed at the thought, attacking you with hugs and kisses

‘well that was easier than expected’ you thought to yourself

chenle:

seems like the jealous type

idk i get them vibes ya know?

let’s say you invited jisung to go shopping with you while chenle had a different schedule

at first, he’d be like ‘oh yeah go for it!’ bc well, it was just jisung

he had nothing to be worried about

but once he saw you post multiple stories on instagram of yours and jisung’s day out, he couldn’t help but be filled with rage

from eating cute cafe desserts, to buying plushies and even going to the arcade together

chenle was upset to say the least

not only did he miss out on spending time with you, he felt you were slowly replacing him with his best friend

but of course that was the furthest thing from the truth

the tipping point was when jisung posted a mirror selfie of the two of you wearing matching bucket hats

chenle felt his heart ACHE

when you both returned to the dorms, chenle immediately snatched you away, refusing to even greet jisung

jisung stood there like 🧍🏻

anyways chenle would drag you to his room, shutting the door quickly

you were so mf confused

“be honest, do you like jisung more than me?”

you were flabbergasted, was he on crack?

“what? where is this coming from? of course i don’t like him more than you!”

chenle allowed himself to calm down before continuing, shouting wasn’t going to get him anywhere

“well then why did you do so many fun things with him today? you even got matching hats!” he frowned, folding his arms

“we were just hanging out as friends! i promise. and we actually bought you a hat too! i wanted us to all be matching, since we were like a trio. i didn’t know that upset you”

he felt like a complete idiot

“n-no i’m sorry i assumed things, please don’t hate me” chenle pulled you into his chest

“i could never hate you, even if i tried” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his torso

jisung:

oh boy

he’s the silent type,, he would want to avoid any awkward confrontation at all costs

he would bottle up his jealousy until one day he just explodes

i feel like jisung needs a lot of reassurance if he was in a relationship

he didn’t like the sinking feeling in his stomach whenever he saw you and chenle together

things such as playful hits to the shoulder or chest, loud laughter and friendly compliments were seen as subtle flirtations to jisung

you would always try your best to include jisung in your inside jokes with chenle but he’d always shrug it off

“nah it’s just a thing between you two”

comments like those, rubbed you the wrong way and you could tell chenle was slightly bothered too

each time you tried to ask jisung about it, he’d brush it off

“i don’t know what you’re talking about”

“are you sure? because you were kind of being cold to us, don’t you think?”

“doesn’t feel nice when you’re excluded, does it?” you were beyond confused

“can you please talk to me about what’s going on? i don’t like seeing you like this” you pull jisung to across from you on his bed

he avoided your eyes at all costs, fiddling with his rabbit plushie

“i’m jealous” he mumbled

“come again?”

“IM JEALOUS OKAY?” he threw his hands in the air hysterically, catching you off guard

“sometimes i don’t like how close you are with chenle. it seems like you are closer to him than me! i want to make you laugh like that, and i want to buy you nice things. and i want you to hit me playfully”

you listened closely to each concern

you brought your hand to enclose his, placing a soft kiss to his knuckles

“jisung, you’re the only person in this world that makes me laugh so hard that my ribs hurt. buying me nice things won’t change how i already feel towards you. and we can definitely try to be more playful with eachother” you started running your hands through his hair as he slowly shuffled closer to you

“t-thankyou, it’s nice to get it off my chest”

“of course, you have nothing to worry about” you placed a kiss to his forehead as you both spent the night cuddling

#nct dream #nct dream reaction #nct dream scenario #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct writing #mark lee #huang renjun #lee haechan #lee jeno #na jaemin #zhong chenle #park jisung #jisungsmochi masterlist #jisungsmochiimagines

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txbbo · 3 years

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I've been debating making this because this is definitely not what my blog is known for and I was worried that people wouldn't want to see it, but with the amount of shit im seeing on twitter it's compelled me to make this because I'm so frustrated.

I feel like I could make 100 posts about 'Cancel Culture' and it wouldn't be enough, so I'm just going to focus on what caused me to write this tonight - the Tommy situation. *Warning for a VERY long post below*

To be clear, Tommy has been in 'hot water' on twitter for the past couple weeks, roughly starting with the KSI collaboration where he made a joke about dream stans.

Last week, when the SBI 'exposing account' got made and twitter hyped it up, someone made a Tommy account and made a thread of things he needed to be '''educated''' on: https://twitter.com/idktommyinnit/status/1379158964148002821?s=20

I'll let you read it for yourself (and come to your own conclusion) but to me.... half of this stuff does not require a twitter thread? Breaking it down accusation by accusation:

1) 'The Mexican accent' - the clips show he is clearly only doing it when copying big Q (who famously exaggerates his own accent) and there is zero malicious intent (Big Q is also IN the 3 clips mentioned in the thread, and obviously didn't tell Tommy it was offensive). There's debates in the comments from people who think it is offensive and people who don't, so I'm not trying to pick a side. To avoid accidentally offending anyone, maybe it is best for him to stop, but the way twitter acts as if he was purposefully doing this to offend people is just not true.

2- 'Making a slave joke' - Even saying that feels wrong, because it suggests Tommy is doing something awful. Instead, they are referring to the 'bit' that Tommy, Techno, Tubbo and Ant were involved in, when Tommy and Techno took Tubbo and Ant as their slave. People are taking this vod and using it to accuse Tommy of being insensitive to Black people, but I think people are just assuming the worst. Slavery existed long before the transatlantic slave trade and still exists today. This is a role-play server - Tommy 'forced' Ant to work for him and used the word slave, which to me is exactly what was happening? People 'murder' others on the SMP, people 'kidnap' on the SMP, people are 'terrorists' on the SMP, and all happen without issue. To add, Ant is a WHITE man. Tommy taking a WHITE man as a slave is not something uber problematic.

3- 'His reply to Techno's 'murder is bad' tweet'. - I get people saying that Techno's initial tweet was insensitive, but saying Tommy's agreement to this from almost over a year ago is something notable and worth addressing is just super nitpicky and is clearly only in there to pad out the thread. It also makes me wonder what other CC's interacted with it and if THEY should be cancelled too (according to twitter).

4 - 'The saying slurs' tweet / jokes about 'whats the worst word you know' - This one I can kinda see how people might not like it. However, it's clearly a 'poke' at his friends, making them seem like bad people. To me, its in the same vein as 'Tubbo is a Tory' or when Tubbo shoots back that 'Tommy is a Nigel Farage fan'. They're obviously not, but its making fun of your friends by saying they are, and mockingly making them out out to be bad people.

5- 'Covid jokes' - People are taking jokes he made about him 'having covid' and saying he shouldn't joke about this, even going as far to linking it to asian hate crimes. I don't even know how to explain that that this is just? not a 'cancellable offence'? I'm sorry but if I hear anyone in my family coughing I make a little joke that 'they better not have covid' and I know other people do. I have someone in my family who is extremely vulnerable to Covid and if they caught it, would quite literally die, but I can understand that jokes like these are harmless. The whole internet had a running joke that we were in a 'panoramic' or 'Panera' or 'insert any word that sounds like pandemic.

This thread got a lot of attention and anything he tweeted afterwards was spammed with the link and there were so many people upset that he hadn't addressed it. I saw so many people say how 'upset' and 'disappointed' they were in him.

Going on to today, this happened: https://twitter.com/khasiid/status/1380611890104139776?s=20

I get it, it looks bad. But for context (which the tweet doesn't give), the reply was only up for less than a minute. It was obvious to me, even BEFORE Tommy addressed it in his stream (clip here: https://twitter.com/cowrpse/status/1380640046202593283?s=20 ) that it was a mistake. In the clip, he clearly acknowledges his mistake and seems embarrassed. To me, this situation should just be laid to rest because a mistake does not need this much attention, but twitter disagrees.

In case it wasn't obvious by now, the tide is turning against Tommy and people are less willing to ignore genuine mistakes and assume the worst.

Today, during his birthday stream people were clearly already waiting for him to mess up. Around half way through, he started saying 'finna' out of context and Tubbo joined in. This led to tons of tweets telling him he was misusing AAVE, and while there were plenty of people willing to be patient and educate, there were also people seeing this as an example of him being a 'bad person' and someone who should be 'without a platform'. I think people forget that not everyone has the same internet upbringing as they do. In general, I think its noted that the misuse of AAVE is something that has just recently been brought to attention. I learned about it through tiktok and stan twitter, and I don't think it's unimaginable that a British 17 year old boy (who is not active on either) has never heard of 'African American Vernacular English'.

Just for a fuller picture, today has also brought about another 'criticism' that I just had to address.

1) 'Tommy made a KKK joke' - Like the 'slavery' point, saying this is extremely misleading. It makes people think the worst. Here's the clip: https://twitter.com/ghostburz/status/1380673589612011522?s=20

Here, Tommy and Tubbo are both joking about Tubbo's 'bit' of naming his alt streams 'aaaaaaaaaa', 'bbbbbbb', 'cccccc', etc and how it would've been bad if it was 'kkkkkkkk' (for obvious reasons). That is literally it. It is a less than 20 second clip. Acknowledging that people woulda thought about the 'KKK' is not him 'not understanding Black issues', its a throwaway joke about the obvious.

Lastly, someone on twitter has made a tommyinnit (address asap) doc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1tZEZtBzikS-EYYkssfFtwVOoFqOwCK0zhStLe6H1wCc/edit

I've basically already covered everything in this document, but I wanted to mention how extremely 'guilt trippy' the whole thing is. I struggled to come up with the perfect word for the situation, and I am open to hearing other peoples opinion, but as I have mentioned none of these things Tommy has been accused of were done with malicious intent, and some I believe don't even need addressed at all.

'slavery is a source of astronomical trauma for black people, and isn’t something to be taken lightly if you’re to look into the horrors of the slave trade."

and "Oftentimes they are the last words we hear before we die and it really is not Tommy’s place to joke about words that affect us so negatively."

Are extremely emotional words for a 17-year-old boy to hear on his birthday, for stuff that I believe has been taken out of context and blown out of proportion.

I really feel bad for him, because such a large proportion of twitter (which ofc is the loudest side of the fanbase) is angry at him and is demanding (as the document says) ''either a stream or twitter thread/twitlonger to addressing this' and 'a long and serious apology instead of a short statement pre-stream'.

We all know how twitter works, and unless his apology is perfect (which to me means apologising for stuff that he should't have to, as explained in the thread), twitter will continue with this weird hyper focus on everything he does, and it's not going to end well.

Twitter's mentality of 'putting everything this person has done that could ever be considered problematic' into one neat little thread is so unhelpful and counter intuitive. I got overwhelmed reading some of the stuff people were saying about him, I can't imagine how he feels.

I feel like I have more to say but at risk of writing an essay longer than my actual work I have to do, I'm going to end here.

#this was incredibly cathartic to write #turns out im not just a c! Tommy apologist LMAO #tommyinnit #dream smp #tommyinnit neg #tommyinnit critical #tommyinnit crit #Tommy crit #Tommy neg #twitter neg #cancel culture #mcyt crit #mcytwt crit

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jilytho · 3 years

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if only in my dreams

Lily has been having some dreams about James but of course that in no way means she has any feelings for him of any kind

Read below or on AO3 or FFNT

The dreams started about a month into October of Seventh Year. They started slow at first and innocent enough, fun little dreams of the Marauders and Lily’s friends all sat near the fire playing Exploding Snap or chatting at dinner. Slowly, however, they started to shift. Instead of it being all of their friends together, they began to focus in on just her and James. Sometimes they were outlandish and artificial the way dreams could be, like the one where she was a star quidditch player and was playing his team but all of the other teammates were octopuses, or the one where Paul McCartney was their Transfiguration Professor. Fun and ridiculous and clearly too dreamlike to be of any real consequence to her but certainly notable. Yet other times they were so completely and utterly simplistic, domestic even. Calm and casual, just them sitting and laughing and holding hands. Everytime one of those occurred, Lily would wake up feeling content, at peace almost. Then the realization set in and the contentment quickly turned to horror. Those were the scariest dreams of all.

After the first few she was able to write them off as a coincidence, simply neurons firing in her brain as a way of dealing with spending so much time with him during the day as co-heads. Especially as they became friends over those first few months, it was really simple and logical, just her brain dealing with him being so present in her life and working it out as she slept. Considering it’d been years of them fighting and screaming, the sudden shift to friendship and laughing was obviously a lot to process.

The dreams didn’t occur every single night, at least not at first, more like once or twice a week at max. Just enough for her to spend some time thinking about them during a boring Ancient Runes class and processing them, but certainly not enough to cause any real worry or concern over her well being.

Even when they increased in frequency, from twice a week to six times a week plus that one time she zoned out and started daydreaming during History of Magic (which didn’t really count because he was sitting next to her and smelled so good of course it was going to leech into her dreams). It wasn’t hard to rationalize those either. It was completely logical that she’d daydream about lying on the Quidditch pitch alongside James, looking up at the stars together, hands intertwined, because after all they had stood near each other in Astronomy that day and he had pointed out Venus’s moons to her. It was natural, truly.

And it wasn’t difficult at all to make the connections between that day at lunch when she’d almost tripped but he’d caught her with a strong arm wrapped around her waist with that evening, when she had dreamt that same arm was wrapped around her tightly as she sat in front of him on the back of his broomstick as they flew over the school.

They were just dreams. Harmless imaginings of the imagination and the kind of stuff that was covered in day one of Petunia’s psychology courses at muggle Uni. Easily explainable and not in anyway shape or form telling of any real emotions she’d possibly be having.

Except that considering how simple and natural some of the dreams felt, she occasionally started mixing up what had happened between dream James and Lily and real life James and Lily. Was it real James or dream James that had brushed her hand while passing a quill in Transfiguration and set a wild blaze of electricity firing all up and down her arm? Did she actually hear real James’s breath hitch when she had brushed against him while reaching for the bottle of scalamander eyelashes during potions? Was it real James or dream James that she had stood so close to, close enough to feel his chest rising and falling against her as they hid from Filch in a cupboard?

It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise (but of course it still was) when the dreams turned a little more… intimate. When instead of dreaming of lunch in the Great Hall, the scene began to shift to lunch in the Three Broomsticks, just the two of them, followed by hand holding through the streets of Hogsmeade.

Friday night escalated things to nightmare level. Lily had been studying in the common room with Dorcas when the team returned from practice, led by James. Sweaty, grass stained, hair mussed, quidditch gear wearing, James. Lily felt her throat tighten and heart accelerate. His eyes landed on her and instantly smirked, nudging Marlene to point them out before the pair of them headed straight towards her.

“Evans, Meadows,” Lily’s mouth was too dry to respond. She nodded weakly as Marlene flopped down next to her and looked at her strangely.

That image of him haunted her, snuck deep into her subconscious, permeated her thoughts and took root there to flood her dreams. Filled them with him, sweaty and red, but for a reason far different from quidditch, leaning over her, whispering into her ear while she gripped his shoulders and left scratches in a trail down his back.

She couldn’t meet his eye the next day at breakfast.

This process seemed to repeat for the next several weeks: notice something about James during her waking hours that her subconscious would latch onto for the evening, wake up embarrassed, flushed, unsatisfied, and try her hardest to ignore him and stop the cycle. She never succeeded.

The night that really ruined her was right after they’d been partnered in defense. When she’d struggled with the incantation and he’d placed his fingers overtop of hers to show the correct positioning. When she felt how strong and flexible his hand was, how warm and long and rough his calloused fingers were. She felt shivers up and down her neck as he breathed closely to her, smelled mint on his breath, smelled the warm musk that was just so James.

All night she twisted and turned in her sleep, feeling those fingers trace up and down her arms, down her chest, twisting and lapping around the valley of her breast, circling each bud, pushing lower and lower, carving out waves of electricity as they squeezed her hips until she could just feel his fingers circling her clit. She could feel the callouses, could see him smirking at her as he’d bring his head down to meet his fingers, following the same trail of his fingers with his mouth, leaving a series of kisses across her skin.

She’d woken in a tangle of sheets sticking to the sweat on her skin, his name on the edge of her lips.

It’d taken a long, ice cold shower, to clear her head successfully. She stood in the freezing water attempting to justify the dream as just a way for her subconscious to deal with the fact that her close friend was decidedly fit. She tried desperately to cling to the idea of the dreams being a symptom of teenage hormones. However, in spite of her most sincere attempts, it was becoming shockingly clear that the dreams were much more a symptom of her real, genuine feelings for James. Romantic feelings. Spurts of butterflies and rampaging elephants that flooded her heart when he smiled. The fact that he could make her feel so on edge with excitement and anticipation when she saw him coming yet also immediately comfortable and the ability to talk to him about anything.

But she missed her chance. He’d been into her before, sure, but that was long over now. He’d essentially told her as much back in September, when he asked for a ceasefire now that they were both Heads. He’d told her he had grown up and would stop asking her out and bothering her if they could be civil, wasn’t that admitting that he’d left any possible romantic feelings for her behind him? He was over her. He was over her and it wasn’t his problem that she’d just now begun to realize how very badly she wanted him, all of him. She’d just get past it too.

How she was going to possibly get over him when his every waking action filtered through her dreams each night was the real issue. Her fingers were beginning to go numb from the frigid water, nearly shaking as she reached to turn the water off.

She wrapped her towel around her tightly, sheltering her like armour as she met her reflection in the mirror. Cheeks still flushed.

“Get over it,” she whispered to herself. She’d avoid him. That was the best solution. The only way to remove him from her dreams was to remove him from her waking moments as well. It’d be hard to avoid him forever, but at the very least she couldn’t be alone with him. Groups would be safer.

XXX

The next several days were difficult. Filled with eyes flitting away, nodding answers to his questions that had clearly been asked to engage in a conversation, ducking into bathrooms as he came down the corridor, and in a moment of absolute desperation brought on when she saw him standing there waiting for her in the doorway after potions, clearly attempting to walk with her which was essentially an ambush, and she had no choice but to strike up a conversation with Slughorn on the merits of using crushed salamander spleens verses the ever controversial chopped spleens. He’d gone on for about six minutes before James had given up and moved on to lunch, Lily counted to thirty before cutting Slughorn off and dashing away.

In the end she lasted three days of almost complete avoidance. He found her in the library. She’d done her best at hiding, choosing to study in the dusty Arithmancy section that maximum one person and one ghost seemed to visit per year and the table needed a solid Scourgify charm before she was able to sit down. She’d made it through half of her Charms essay before his hands slammed down on the table.

“Lily, I need to talk to you.”

His voice was tense and without looking up she could envision his rigid shoulders and sharp jaw looming over her. Her grip tightened on her quill as she set her shoulders and took a breath.

“Little busy right now, can it wait?”

He scoffed and pulled back the chair opposite her. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Not avoiding,” she squeaked, sneaking a glance up to see his gaze locked in on her and quickly averted her eyes back down. “Just busy, very, very busy.”

She could feel the eye roll.

He reached out across the table and closed the textbook she’d been reading from with a thump, forcing her to meet his eyeline with a glare that he unflinchingly met with his own.

“You can’t prove anything,” she crossed her arms across her chest.

“The only proof I needed I got when you suddenly, desperately had to talk to Flitwick about the best technique for forging charms which we all know you mastered three years ago. Or when you needed to discuss that stupid Salamandar debate with Slughorn that was clearly boring even you stale.”

He stated it all dryly, matter of fact, leaving no room for question or debate. They sat there silently for 93 seconds (she counted) as James leaned back in his chair, a vision of casual confidence.

“Fine!” She broke first. “I’m avoiding you. Are you happy? Are we done here now?”

He barked out a laugh, dropping his hands onto the table and folding them together. “We’ll be done when you explain whatever it is I did that made being around me so awful when we were just getting to a place where I thought we were friends, or at the very least capable of being in the same room and having a civil conversation.”

“I think it's time I go.” She pushed all her stuff into her rucksack hastily, hearing an ink well shatter as she did, and practically running to the door. One of the only benefits of the Arithmancy section is that it at least had a fast exit route, away from the main drag of tables, up the side of the aisles. She could hear James scrambling out of his chair and running to catch up with her but she refused to look back, getting as close to running as she could without risking the wrath of Madam Pince.

She was so close to the exit, the taste of freedom on the tip of her tongue. If she could just get out of the library, she could go left out of view and hide in an alcove until he passed or gave up looking. From then it’d be a simple matter of hiding away in her dorm for the next two to six days before she felt capable of facing him. She was rounding the corner to the exit, nodding tightly to Pince, when she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist and yank her into the nearest aisle.

She stared longingly over her shoulder at the exit as it disappeared as James pulled her along, weaving through aisles. Past Charms, past their table in Arithmancy, straight through Potions, all the way deep into the Divination section where the dust on the books appeared to be older than Lily and James combined.

It was there he finally stopped. Pulling her to the center of the aisle and standing strong in front of her.

It was silent for a tic as she stood there counting the seconds, mentally hoping that if she stayed quiet long enough, James would give up and leave.

Instead he cleared his throat. The noise was jarring in the otherwise silent aisle and without thinking her head turned on its own accord away from the dusty tombs to meet his eyes instead. Big mistake. His eyes were positively smoldering, a storm of hazel and gold glaring down at her. She’d always loved his eyes.

“What?” she bit out, forcing herself to break eye contact and stare somewhere around his shoulder instead.

“Start talking, Evans.”

His shoulders looked solid, no way she could charge past them. The way his shirt was pulling taut across them made her wonder if they’d feel as solid as they appeared and how’d they feel on her hands if she dug her nails into them while she-

She ripped her eyes away from his shoulders and down to his shoes instead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, studying his laces and fidgeting slightly.

He scoffed and brought his free hand to her chin to tilt her gaze up to meet his once more. There were the eyes again.

“It’s a little late for all that, Lily.” He spoke slowly and quietly, as if she was a young deer he was worried would scamper off. “Now talk to me or I swear to god I’ll learn Occlumency just to get a peek at what you’re thinking about up there.”

Well that was a horrifying thought. Her brain reeled through all the images he’d see if he had actually taken a peek, his body pressing hot up against her, the two of them sitting in a sunlit field, picking dandelions, him wiping away a butterbeer mustache off her top lip as they laughed in the Three Broomsticks, him winning the Quidditch Cup and picking her up to spin her around in front of everyone.

“There,” he whispered accusingly, “that blush all over you right now? You’re hiding something from me, Evans, and that ends right now.” The tone was soft but the words were strong, gaze remaining level with her own, eyes searching her own as if the answer was written within them.

“I’ve been having dreams,” she blurted out, too flustered to be aware of her words and instantly regretting that they had come out. Her insides shrank as she squirmed under his gaze, shifting her weight.

He held steady, keeping his hand still tight on her wrist, not allowing her to move more than a breath away.

“What kind of dreams?” Nothing had changed in his voice, still controlled and level.

“I don’t know!” she snapped out, voice far louder than his own, “the embarrassing kind, okay? Are we done?” She twisted her wrist out of his own, somewhat surprised when he allowed her to. She was free, a part of her knew she should run right now and make her grand escape but a much larger part wanted to see what James would say, do, now that the truth was coming out.

She could practically see his wheels turning, mentally piecing together her words with her actions and the ramifications of it all. He was being too quiet, taking too long, and the words were boiling up in her now, desperate to fill the silence.

“They’re just dreams, okay? They don’t actually mean anything, it’s really not that big of a deal even,” she insisted, repeating the words she had spent the last several weeks telling herself out loud for the first time.

“If they don’t mean anything, why are you still blushing like that? And why would I be avoiding me? And what kind of dreams are the embarrassing ones exactly?” His brow was furrowed and a hand was rooted in his hair.

“They’re just stupid and random and unrealistic,” she spluttered, feeling the blush reach down to her toes.

“So tell me about one!” He demanded, “what happened in the most recent one? Did I kill you or something?”

“Oh please you don’t get it at all, you buffoon.” The embarrassment quickly was turning into rage and the words were pouring out.. “You didn’t kill me, you kissed me. Okay? More than kissed me really. You happy now?”

James was decidedly not happy. His expression turned only more incredulous with each passing second as her words took effect on him. His left hand dropped from her wrist to join his right firmly rooted in his hair, pulling and twisting.

She stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response, a realization, a reaction, anything. But instead he just stood there. Dumbfounded or disgusted or downright confused.

The seconds ticked by and her discomfort level rose as each one passed. The rage faded back to embarrassment and formed tears pricking at the back of her eyes, blinking furiously and squeezing her nails into her palms to try and stop any from leaking out.

“Are you going to say anything or just stand there ripping out your hair?”

He continued to stare, unmoving.

“Goodbye, James,” she spat out, crossing her arms tightly across her chest and pushing straight through him.

She heard him splutter something and got about six steps ahead before hearing his thundering steps behind her catching up to her. She pushed ahead until she felt his hand grip her shoulder and turn her around again

There was a scream on the tip of her tongue as she was pulled around to face him. “What, Jam-”

Her exclamations were silenced as he pushed his lips down onto hers. She hesitated for a moment in shock before throwing her arm around his neck and pulling him against her, leaning up on her tiptoes and responding enthusiastically. His hand from her shoulder pushed up to caress her cheek, other hand pressing hard and unforgiving into her hip.

“Was it like that?” The words were a whisper, hot against her face, barely a breath of space between them. “In your dream, was it like that?”

She barely nodded before pulling his lips back down to meet hers.

It was harsh and unyielding and not the kind of first kiss she had ever imagined for them but was certainly something taken right out of her dreams. She felt his hand tilting her head, adjusting their angle to fit perfect against each other as his tongue reached out to meet hers. Hot and heady and unbelievably perfect.

She didn’t notice them turning until her back was pushed up against the shelf. Corners and spines of the dusty volumes pressing up against her barely registering when there was so much of him to feel up against her. His scent surrounding her entirely, permeating the air around her until all she could think, smell, feel was just him.

He pulled back again, still barely a centimeter away and clearly reluctant to do so. “Wait, wait,” he heaved, “what exactly about a dream like that is ‘unrealistic’?”

She stammered unintelligibly for a moment, head filled with fog and fist curling tighter in the fabric of his shirt to anchor herself and him next to each other, “I just meant that we were friends now and you didn’t want to be…. you know.”

He cocked an eyebrow inquisitively, “enlighten me.”

“With me! Romantically speaking!” Her cheeks burned again, and eyes flitted down to where her hand was twisting his shirt.

Until she heard laughter. Actual laughter. One quick look at his face confirmed it, James Potter was actually laughing at her.

“Dear God, Evans,” he brought his hand to caress her cheek, thumb tracing her lower lip. “Evans, if I ever, and I mean ever, say I don’t want to be with you ‘romantically speaking’ you might as well Avada me right then and there because that is clearly an imposter.”

He didn’t give her a second to respond, crashing his lips back down onto hers.

And then he was snogging her again, harder. This instantly shut down her brain, eliminating the potential to analyze the implications of what he had just said because of course there would be time for analysis later but right now, in this moment, there was no time for that. There was no time for that because James Potter was snogging her in the depths of the library and it was so much better than any dream she’d ever had. She had no idea how long they’d stood there snogging, hands pulling hair and bruising skin and leaving her so utterly weak in the knees that she became vehemently grateful for the support of his arm around her back and the shelf she was leaning on. Minutes, hours, days, years, until she was so out of breath that she was practically sighing against his lips as they both slowed down, exhausted but so unwilling to separate, lips still brushing as they breathed in and out.

Her eyes remained closed and she pressed their heads together, lips no more than a centimeter apart.

“Hey Evans?” He sighed out, kissing her again chastely.

She hummed in response, rubbing her nose against his lightly and pushing up for one of those chaste kisses of her own, feeling his glasses press into her nose.

“Go out with me?”

#jily #jily fanfiction #mywriting #jilytho #james potter #lily evans

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angloie · 3 years

Text

Toxic Headcanons - Percabeth

genre: angst, hurt with no comfort.

> heavy & darkish themes.

Annabeth

- She can't take time off for Percy. Its always one more page, one more minute, one more anything. It comes to the point that Percy himself feels neglected, ignored; and it's almost like she's embarrassed of him. It hurts like hell.

- Annabeth doesn't realize what she's doing to him. Can't he see that she needs time off? Does Percy not see that she’s busy? Maybe he doesn't like her as much as she thought- because that's the only reason there could be.

- Sometimes she has a hard time opening up and about her feelings. Obviously everyone might have some trouble- but for her it's different. Annabeth feels the need to lie to him about everything. She had a bad day? When Percy asks about it, she lies. Annabeth had a good day. Nothing happened. It's all fine. Just Fine.

>Worst of all, when she finally breaks, coming down crying, Annabeth blames it on Percy. For not being there. For not helping her. Percy is just so confused and lost; Why did she lie to him? If she was having a bad day, Percy would always be there for her. She knows that, right? Does she not... trust him?

> Percy starts to question himself as a good boyfriend. Was he not enough?

-When people bring Percy up in a conversation, Annabeth feels almost... Ashamed of him. He was always dubbed the resident 'troublemaker', so why shouldn't she be? It's his fault anyways. Percy just needs to fix himself, that's all.

-How could he be so.. uncivilized anyways? His room was always messy; unkept and usually littered with clothes. He never cared about keeping his appearance clean with his messy hair and wrinkles in his clothes. But what Annabeth doesn't know is that he tries. Percy tries so hard, and for what? All she does is point out all his wrongdoings. She'll scold him for not doing things her way. Percy is just so disappointing to her and everyone around him. She constantly devaluates him, even if it's something he was proud of. His smile is ripped from his face, and Percy feels so worthless.

- But... Maybe he is?

- Where did it all go wrong? At the beginning of their relationship, Annabeth and him were a lovely couple. Date night was every night, kisses and cuddles sessions were the norm. They were happy. Percy loved her, And Annabeth loved him.

Right?

- Zero text messages in the mornings saying 'I love you'. No goodnight texts, and barely any late-night calls where they stay up together. Date nights? Long gone. Annabeth is a busy woman, Percy can understand, but was her work tearing their relationship apart? He didn't want to acknowledge it. But they were (slowly, painfully,) drifting apart. It was only a matter of time before that final push to end it all. But if they, he, just ignored it... They would be fine.

- Annabeth doesn't feel like Percy's putting any effort in the relationship. But deep down, she knows that she isn't doing much either. Much like a building coming and crashing down, what once was a beautiful thing is now nothing at all.

- They said that loyalty was Percy's most fatal flaw. They were right.

- Because Percy loved Annabeth. Even if she didn't love her.

-Well, not as much as before, at least.

Percy

- Percy’s sarcasm gets the best of him. Not just the occasional snarky joke or tease- but he constantly degrades her work, her appearance, her insecurities. To the point where Annabeth starts to believe it.

- She trusted him. More than anything, or anyone. So when he goes on and makes fun of her for what she genuinely loved, all she can think is why?

- Percy and her made a mutual agreement that their relationship was built on trust; of all things. So why did he break it? It feels draining now, to hear all those comments. It's damaging her in a way she can only feel now.

- In a attempt to regain the feeling of being loved and appreciated; (she’s been lacking those moods lately) Annabeth tries to change. Her style, hair, diet- Percy notices.

- “Why don't you go back to before?” He asks, one day. “You looked better before. You look... Tired.”

- Percy shruggs it off. He was just joking the end. If Annabeth can't handle that, then she really must be fragile. Weak. He doesn't think that his words have any real meaning, but she had really looked a lot worse than before. That wasn't...His fault, right? Annabeth knew that. She does.

- She feels drained. Every second spent with him feels forced now, completely different from the pure euphoria when they first started dating. Percy continues to make his jokes, this time making a ride comment on how her books are 'weird'. Small and harmless it may seem, but have you ever had someone so trusted by you make fun of what you love? It's painful. Annabeth has trouble feeling the joy she once did when she read them, but now? It's awfully bleak. Bland. Because of Percy.

- He ignores her from time to time. He might go out with his friends one day, completely forgetting his girlfriend. The calls? Texts? He puts them in 'Do not Disturb'. Gods, she's fucking clingy. Doesn't she respect his boundaries? Or does she not know what boundaries are?

- Little did he know that Annabeth had prepared a date at home. His favorite movie, and show, and even made him the food he liked. Even though Annabeth was never much of a cooker. She tries. For him.

- Like Annabeth, he see's nothing wrong in what he does. Even when she cries to him, begging him to stop, there's no real problem to him. Annabeth is just so sensitive.

- Percy likes to manipulate people. Annabeth especially; creating twisted lies that anyone could believe. Blaming her for a problem he created, or maybe accusing her of forgetting date night. In reality, he just doesn't care. Percy doesn't take the relationship seriously anymore.

- And when he raises his voice at her, or maybe says something too harsh, Annabeth puts on a strong face. Calm and stoic, but she feels scared. Of him. Can't he see that?

- He can't stop at this point- where he has no sympathy anymore. He'll go out nearly every day, barely telling Annabeth where he's headed. Even when he goes out on their anniversary, he doesn't answer any of her messages. Percy was just a little forgetful. Annabeth knew that, and she'd forgive him.

Like last time.

Like always.

- a/n

I've had this on my mind for exactly two days so I thought I'd write it. this was the final product-- IDK but I def have more to add to this so I might make another post lol

#percabeth oneshot #percabeth angst #percy jackson #percabeth #percy x annabeth #percabeth toxic #annabeth pjo #annabeth chase

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wherefancytakesme · 4 years

Text

“Mistakes”

(BOYD gets to spend the afternoon with Gyro, then Mark Beaks shows up and brings on emotions that BOYD has never had to face before.)

The day so far had been one of harmless goings-on and quiet excitement. BOYD went to school with his adoptive brother Doofus Drake, for once not being as much the studious little database he always was in class—he was going to meet with Gyro Gearloose and Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera after school, and it filled him to the brim with joy.

Since the day he’d reunited with his creator, BOYD loved spending time with the scientist, always awaiting a time when he would call the Drakes over the phone and ask to pick their ‘younger’ son up and bring him to the underwater lab. Gyro always said he needed to perform regular checkups and maintenance on the little android, but BOYD was hoping secretly that it was also about spending time together; The doctor was becoming gentler now that everything in the past was behind them.

Regardless, BOYD’s feet were bouncing lightly under his desk with the anticipation of it all the way until the final school-bell rang—any excuse to see Gyro, someone he considered so close, gave his mechanical heart inexplicable delight.

Finally when class had let out for the day, BOYD took Doofus’ hand, smiling, and pulled him gently along.

“Come on, come on, big brother! Dr. Gearloose and Dr. Crackshell-Cabrera are waiting outside!”

Doofus grunted. His parents had strictly told him to be on his nicest behavior in front of Scrooge McDuck’s scientist, especially for his little brother’s sake—and to say nothing at all if he hadn’t anything nice to say—or else not expect any dessert for the next several weeks. He threw a fit, of course, but eventually resigned to not ruin anything for BOYD—or his chance at still being allowed to eat an ice cream float every night—and let BOYD have all the ice cream for himself.

Some part of Doofus’ subconscious didn’t mind the constant company of someone his own age. But all the unpleasantness that buried such feelings from his thoughts and actions that proved Louie Duck right kept the boy from understanding any of that, and so he simply allowed BOYD to pull him along—small as he was, the android could easily overtake his brother—and decided to be pouty but uncharacteristically quiet the rest of the day—though not altogether unhappy.

When the two boys reached the front gate, Gyro and Fenton were waiting at the entrance. The latter grinned and waved a friendly hand. The former smiled a bit more visibly than he’d have liked to when BOYD ran out to him.

“Dr. Gearloose!” BOYD called out, immediately throwing his arms around Gyro’s knees.

The gesture pushed Gyro to hide his previous smile by putting a fist to his mouth and clearing his throat. But his tone wasn’t harsh.

“It’s nice to see you, 2BO—er—BOYD.”

He had no idea how to greet Doofus Drake, however. He groaned with his mouth closed, awkwardly, and looked away, but Doofus had nothing to say either anyway.

“Are we going to the lab right away?” BOYD asked with bright eyes.

“Well I have an errand to run in town first, but it shouldn’t take long.”

Fenton chimed in;

“We could make a fun outing of it! Uh—nothing that would deviate from the plan, of course,” he said drawing back once Gyro side-eyed him, “Just something to do while Dr. Gearloose is busy.”

“Yeah, like find a local landmark to learn about!” BOYD did some drawing back of his own when he noticed his brother pout, but did so more graciously than nervously as compared to Gyro’s assistant. “Or maybe there will be a park nearby!” He smiled more when he noticed his brother’s frown fade a small amount.

“Whatever we do,” interjected Gyro, “Stay close to me. I do not want everyone running all over and taking up too much time.”

BOYD’s sunny smile remained as he put his hands behind his back, determined to be well-behaved.

“Yessir, Dr. Gearloose!”

About twenty minutes of walking had led the group of four to an obscure electronics store. Gyro needed a special kind of copper wire before going back to the lab and his odd specifications were hard to meet. While he spent his time inside, Fenton and the boys went to the adjacent shop to buy ice cream. Gyro had told them not to wander off, so once both kids had a cone of their own, they walked out to wait for the doctor.

It had taken several minutes longer than usual for the store owner to fetch what he needed, but by the time he had his purchase in hand, Gyro pondered over taking another minute or two to browse recreationally for spare parts. However, the thought was suddenly halted by the sound of a piercing shriek from outside.

“BUT I DON’T LIKE PISTACHIO!”

Gyro’s whole body jumped at the sound before he bolted out the door to see what the commotion was.

Oh.

Of course. Doofus Drake was throwing another tantrum, shaking his ice cream cone violently.

“Then why did you ask for it?” Fenton asked, confounded.

Gyro ground his teeth and rubbed his middle and index fingers against his temples. But the eyes he’d at first squinted shut opened back up when he heard the screaming stop at a kind voice.

“It’s okay, big brother. I’ll eat yours and we’ll trade!”

BOYD had a warm little grin on his face, holding out his hand.

“Fine!” snapped the spoiled drake, fuming as he thrust the treat into his brother’s hand. “You wanted to try a new flavor of ice cream anyway!”

This caught Gyro’s attention particularly. That little brat shouldn’t be forcing something on a robot who wasn’t built for consumption. He approached, and took on a less-than-pleasant tone that now commonly became him.

“Ice cream?” the chicken asked, twisting his face, “2B—er, BOYD, doesn’t eat.”

“I don’t need to,” answered BOYD, “I like to! My big brother told me about all the different kinds, and now every time I eat a new one, I add it to my memory. It’s fun!”

There were so many words in there that Gyro had to take a moment to think over. First and foremost, it was still mystifying why someone like BOYD and someone like Doofus Drake would consider eachother brothers—leaving aside that the former was much older than the latter. But he chuckled mentally a bit at the association between ‘memory’ and ‘fun’. The only other boy he knew who thought like that was Huey Duck, and it was nice that he and the android had found someone like the other. It felt nice too that such a thought could soften him back up again and make his migraine go away.

But Gyro wondered what eating must really be like for BOYD—he didn’t remember programming BOYD specifically to eat, but on a technical level, he supposed it was possible, given the way he’d built him.

“Can you taste it at all?” he said looking down at BOYD now, curious at the answer.

“Yeah! It was actually only recently I first had ice cream. I didn’t know I could taste anything until then, but it seemed to register, and I really liked it! So when I got home, I asked about it, and now I get to have it every day!”

Gyro didn’t realize how much he’d been missing out on the little boy’s life. Even the very first tests he’d run on him didn’t experiment with things like taste, or smell. Body temperature, vision, maybe—but those were comparable to how a computer would run. Gyro had made BOYD with sentient, behavioral programming, but he supposed he never put any of it into practice, in a real-world scenario. Part of that may have been Dr. Akita’s fault, but… Well, Gyro didn’t want to make excuses for what he did and didn’t do back then.

It was strange—and a little sad; BOYD went twenty whole years unaware of whether or not he lacked the sensation of taste, and Gyro wasn’t there when he finally tried. Gyro knew every single robotic modification BOYD had—from the USB drives in his fingertips, to the blasters throughout his body—he’d put every one of them to the test, but how often did he actually take the child outside the old laboratory? Did the small creature have any memory of Tokyolk before his core was overridden?

Quickly Gyro shook any dwelling thoughts from his mind. No matter. He was making up for it now.

At least he hoped so.

All of a sudden, Gyro felt someone bump against his side, sending him back into the conscious world with a jolt. He made a startled squeak, which embarrassed—and therefore slightly angered him.

“Can’t you watch where you’re—Oh.”

The scientist wrinkled his face with annoyance when he turned and saw a slightly younger man on a self-balancing scooter.

“It’s you.”

There was no mistaking it. Sleek cardigan, large overconfident eyebrows, phone in hand… It was Mark Beaks.

Mark Beaks blinked when addressed. He had no doubt everyone knew who he was, but the lanky chicken facing him seemed to be acting like he’d met him before.

“Oh heeeeey… Uh, do I know you? Probably, right? You see so many faces every day when you’re this famous, they kinda all just blend in, y’know?”

Gyro looked up at Beaks with half-lidded eyes.

“Dr. Gyro Gearloose? Scientist of Scrooge McDuck? You’ve stolen and modified my tech about four different times?”

Beaks looked up and narrowed his eyes, stumped.

Gyro sniffed. Mark Beaks had pointed him out in public several times; This was quite obviously being done to wind him up. “Perhaps he looks familiar to you?” he said, throwing a hand out to gesture at BOYD.

“Ohh yeah! You built that guy? No wonder he went all terminator on me!”

Again Gyro responded sarcastically, with more of a scoff this time.

“That is not my fault. Likely you reprogrammed his hard-drive and rewrote his memories so many times, one simple question overwhelmed him to the point that he couldn’t even tell a person from a flyswatter.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Beaks said, waving his hand, “If you make faulty robots and don’t wanna keep the improvements I put in there, that’s on you. Kid was pretty popular online though. I mean, come on!”

Mark Beaks pointed back and forth between himself and BOYD with both of his index fingers.

“He looks just like me!”

When Beaks acknowledged the android a few feet in front, suddenly two yellow eyes stared back. A little gasp emitted from the little black beak that was previously opened to eat ice cream. BOYD hadn’t seen his older doppelganger since the day he met Doofus Drake. His whole face suddenly beamed with cheeriness at a familiar face.

“Da—”

He bit off the word ‘Daddy’. That was a memory overwrite, he knew now. Still, he was happy.

“Mr. Beaks!”

BOYD instantly ran over to the addressee to jump up and hug him. Beaks just as instantly wheeled back with his scooter board, holding his palms up.

“Woah-ho-hooooh, don’t like touching, remember? What was the number one rule?”

Oh. Right. Remembering that made BOYD’s smile fade.

“No hugs?”

“Exactly, see? You’ve still got some of the good ol’ Beaks programming clunking around in there somewhere!”

Gyro rolled his eyes at a statement like that, but for BOYD it started to set a certain train of thought in motion; Mark Beaks had programmed him to be like his son. At the time, he had felt like it, not simply had it wired into his head, but… now that he thought about the standoffish way the young adult was acting, was that all he was to him? Like a son?

That couldn’t be true, could it?

“Um, Mr. Beaks?” BOYD said, voice starting to grow more shy, “I know things are different now—the two of us living separate lives and everything—but even so, would it be okay if I still spent time with you once in a while?”

Beaks sucked his teeth at BOYD.

“Ooh, no can do, sport. See, if we’re not family, there’s kinda no point anymore. Nobody looks at pics of me just hanging with some rando kid, y’know? Outside that, I’m like super busy all the time, sooo…”

“But… Didn’t you have fun with me?”

“Sure, I did all kinds of awesome stuff in a whole day! Took lots of great selfies!”

BOYD faced the ground at that response, trying to process it. All the words were simple, but slowly, they triggered the most complex of memories… ______________________________

The first memory he had after the incident in Tokyolk was the faint recognition of someone’s voice in the garbage dump he’d evidently wound up in. He didn’t know what was going on, and had no recollection of where he came from, how he worked, or hardly even who he was. All he could bring to mind was an assigned identification number—2BO—and a gut feeling that he was a definitely real boy.

But when the voice came closer, BOYD felt his OS booting up again—his processor bringing things back online. What life he may or may not have had before, he knew not. He only understood that there was reason to be up and running now—alive. These feelings hadn’t manifested into thoughts at first—and then he heard the moving figure above him make a noise. When BOYD parroted back the mimicry of lasers, it was purely instinctual—technological sounds, technological creature. But it made someone notice him. It made someone marvel at him. It made someone give him a real name. It made someone want to take him home. That someone was Mark Beaks.

Even if he had only programmed into him the title of ‘father’, the wealthy parrot was the first person he knew to give him somewhere to live. With or without his original memories, BOYD had never really had an actual home before. He’d never had anyone so willingly look after him like a normal kid—like their kid. In many ways, both literal and figurative, Mark Beaks was the first person to be a parent to BOYD. Even lacking the memory of Akita’s cruelty and Gyro’s hesitance, when BOYD was around Mark Beaks, he felt like someone’s son with no hint of abandonment for the first time in his life.

Yet some underlying doubt lie buried, deep down in one of the many corners of his mind that BOYD didn’t have access to—only this one wasn’t blocked by another person’s override. Anytime he called out ‘Daddy’, Beaks didn’t always turn around right away. He might look confusedly around the room, or take a second or two to respond. And even then, he didn’t seem to say things other than ‘Hey you’, or ‘Need something?’—they were happy, but one-sided. BOYD didn’t think about that then. He was just glad to have family, and to have anything a kid could ask for.

But that was another thing that suddenly made BOYD think. The two days he’d spent with his new father were the best of his whole life; He spent time at an office filled with apparatuses to play on, candy to eat, and places to nap everywhere—even if he didn’t need to nap. Then for the rest of the day, the two Greys went all over Duckburg having fun—eating, playing, exploring… And still, through everything, there didn’t seem to be a connection. When BOYD and Beaks spent time at a show, flew kites, or wore novelty hats, the latter was always taking pictures with the former in them, but seemingly never with him. BOYD was too distracted by the thrill of spending time with someone he considered family to notice before, but now that Beaks worded it the way he did, only mentioning the fun he himself had that day, the signs were becoming obvious. He never once touched him—never once looked at him when he took those selfies—BOYD might as well have been a part of the background.

Come to think of it, did Mark Beaks ever touch BOYD? His biggest aversion, which he’d made clear several times, was touching, after all; The hopes of the first hug BOYD thought he’d ever had at the time were straightaway brushed off. Maybe once or twice, when he needed to be kept from getting wet or from going haywire… But otherwise, the man hardly paid physical attention to him. He didn’t want to feed into the worry that was always secretly there, but the recollection of everything made it impossible now. It hurt BOYD so badly to consider that he was only there to serve a purpose—as he had been his whole life—after all. He couldn’t remember Beaks saying his name, he couldn’t remember Beaks saying something gentle to him… Sometimes if he didn’t act the part he was made to, Beaks would scold him. He tried to avoid calling to mind that once, Beaks struggled to even remember the familial title under which BOYD was programmed.

“Yeah, I love this… What was it again? Uhh, uh, son!”

Oh no.

Mark Beaks never even said the words, ‘I love you’.

But no. No, it couldn’t be true that he didn’t at least care about BOYD, it just couldn’t. It was painful all the same, though, no matter how trusting and unassuming a child BOYD was.

He had to know. He wanted just a little word of assurance that he was wrong, that it was all in his head, that it was just worry that came with twenty years of feeling unloved. Even if Mark Beaks saw him as means for attention first, surely there was some sort of fatherly instinct left over from caring for someone made to be for all concerned his family.

BOYD was feeling some sort of physical discomfort he couldn’t pinpoint when he made his next inquiry, as if he was swallowing something down.

“Mr. Beaks,” he questioned, blue irises still fixed on the ground and fingers toying with one another, “Do you…”

He swallowed physically this time.

“Do you love me…?”

Mark Beaks’ face froze, and before answering made a noise somewhere between the word ‘I’, and an ‘Uh’.

“Kid, what kind of question is that? I don’t do the whole affection thing, okay? Much less with someone who’s not even in my entourage anymore.”

Oh, that hurt. That hurt far too much. Normally with Dr. Akita’s overriding, emotional triggers like this would have BOYD glitching. But that wasn’t there anymore. He was open to feel whatever a boy would feel any time he wanted now, without malfunctions and without something to block his true childlike wiring—too open, perhaps, because now instead of his mind going blank over spiritual pain, his mind would take in every single thought that set him off, and fester. What Beaks said to him now was festering. It made him feel vulnerable. Even if it didn’t hurt or scare him as much as when Gyro told him he was going to shut him down for good, or when Gyro constantly put him down, there was nothing to keep BOYD from blacking out afterward anymore. The feelings over Mark Beaks’ statement were flooding all throughout him.

“But…” BOYD persisted still, wanting some sort of kindness—at least for a fresh start. “Couldn’t we at least be on friendly terms? Isn’t there anything you like about me?”

“Aw come on, little man, it’s not like I was letting you get close to begin with. You’ve got other rich people and tech geeks to be with now. So you don’t need me and I don’t need you.” The man crossed his arms.

If any justice could be done, it might be stated here that the biggest reason Mark Beaks was beginning to act more and more bitter with the small child was out of a sour-grapes mentality. Visible weakness wasn’t characteristic of the young trend-chaser, but in a situation like this, where something he genuinely found impressive and thought he’d made his own had been lost to him, and had been left in the hands of someone else he barely knew—knowing that a technological wonder like BOYD was something he could no longer have—Beaks was annoyed, and he would never dare let it show through. Instead he increased his shallowness ten-fold.

Poor little BOYD’s eyes went wide, wanting so terribly not to believe what he was being told, wanting so desperately not to be outright rejected by someone he’d let himself previously grow so attached to. He looked into Beaks’ black eyes, searching for some kind of reassurance in spite of only hearing cruelty. He wanted so much to hear something that would make the building pain he’d never understood before shrink down.

“But,” he said, voice more quiet and in disbelief than he could ever remember expressing, “You gave me a name. You took me home with you. I was like your family.”

Mark Beaks rolled his eyes back, looking only more annoyed that the little creature almost forced him into guilt with such words.

“No way, kid. I just scooped you out of the trash because I thought I could make something out of you. But four-eyes over there took out all the mods I made to begin with—the new voice I gave you isn’t even there anymore. Hate to say it, but without any of that, you don’t mean anything to me.”

He shrugged his shoulders, talking for a minute more so to himself than anyone, but nonetheless just as aloud as before.

“Guess all the time I put into you was a waste. ‘Least with everything else, I got some money or permanent attention out of it.” Beaks blew air out through his nostrils almost like a laugh when he thought about it. “Jeez, kid, you were my worst investment.”

BOYD didn’t know what the feeling was, but those awful words broke something within him. His face tensed up. The tightness in his chest started to swell. All that desperation to disprove his first proper parent didn’t actually care about him, all that pain welling up inside him the more said person shot down attempt after attempt for requited affection… And now he’d dealt him a blow like that? Mark Beaks had thoroughly destroyed his spirit—he might as well have slapped him in the face. And incidentally, his face started to burn. BOYD had no idea what this meant, but the reaction was involuntary. It hurt so much, he couldn’t understand. The heat concentrated in his eyes. His nose and mouth trembled as he faced his former caretaker. A warm, salty liquid began slowly to fill his eyes and then roll down his cheeks.

BOYD was crying. ______________________________

All the time Beaks had been talking, Gyro and Fenton had been narrowing their eyes in anger and darting them back and forth between the two parrots facing one another, the taller one saying nastier and nastier things to the smaller one. Neither Fenton nor Gyro knew quite what to say or do, or how to intervene—for Fenton in particular because he also had to keep an eye on Doofus Drake, who any second could stop being content licking the inside of his ice cream cone and go ballistic again. It irritated him that he had to keep his mind on such a small matter when clearly there were bigger fish to fry at the moment—and also a little bit that BOYD’s adoptive brother didn’t seem to be noticing how much he was hurting.

Gyro wanted to speak up at some point, but couldn’t bring any words into his head.

And then out of the blue, when Mark Beaks had finally pushed innocent BOYD to a breaking point, the tiny thing cried. He cried.

Gyro’s heart stopped dead in its figurative tracks.

His eyes went wide and dropped their gaze to the ground. This was something he had no idea was physically possible. An invention of his had been, through instinct alone, pushed to actually cry. He didn’t understand. He didn’t specifically write that sort of thing into BOYD’s coding when he made him—certainly Akita didn’t put that in—so then what? BOYD was a definitely real boy, but, to this extent? Gyro wanted to react, to do something for the boy, to get angry at Beaks, but everything failed him. He was stock still, frozen with a horrible blend of shock and concern.

Meanwhile, BOYD continued to stare up at Beaks as tears stained his face, disbelief and utter heartache consuming everything from the waist up.

The first reaction was when Doofus Drake turned and took notice of what he had been sure was a robot his parents adopted, somehow leaking sadness out of his eyes. The Drake boy physically reeled back, socially perturbed.

“Agh, he’s broken!” he yelled, unable to understand, “Do something and fix it!”

Fenton reacted second, clenching his hands into fists, intent on indeed doing something to ‘fix it’, but not the way Doofus imagined. He held back solely on the basis that Gyro was going to say something.

But Beaks was the immediate one to react next.

“Yikes, buddy,” he said to BOYD, backing up uncomfortably. He didn’t mean to make anyone cry, but then again, he didn’t think BOYD could feel anything that real. “It’s not my fault a lack of Beaks tech makes you basically worthless.”

Where Gyro normally would have gotten angry, this time Fenton stood in—he saw that the doctor was too dumbstruck to do so for now. But Fenton was certain both of them were equally as angry.

“What on earth are you thinking saying that to his face,” he snapped, “He’s a kid!”

Mark Beaks shrugged, as if his next reply was a matter of fact.

“Well I mean yeah, but like, not a real one…”

Each adult’s face in present company sneered at Beaks. That was the final straw. With that, Gyro Gearloose was finally able to pull himself out of his stunned state and draw up the emotion to straighten his back and snatch BOYD’s hand, dragging him away. Whatever he was thinking or wasn’t able to think at the moment didn’t matter. This child wasn’t going to be tortured by being here any longer.

“Cabrera, you take Doofus Drake home and get rid of this…” He struggled to find the words; “this, while I take BOYD back to the lab.”

Fenton nodded, determined, as Gyro stormed off, leaving Beaks to be thoroughly dealt with. ______________________________

The walk back to the underwater lab wasn’t a long one, but when Gyro wasn’t seething mad, he would look down at BOYD and notice a look on the boy’s face not dissimilar to his own from earlier—it contained surprise, the fearful kind, as if he didn’t know he could shed tears either. He didn’t look up at his creator, even though he followed the aggressive tug of his arm compliantly, and he didn’t try to wipe at his face. He seemed, again, to be having the same sort of shock that tried to question what in the world was happening to him.

When the two finally did make it inside, Gyro relinquished his tight grip on BOYD’s hand, picked him up by the waist, and sat him down on his center loft work desk.

“BOYD,” he said directly, but not ungently, “Keep your face still for a moment, okay?”

Gyro cupped the little creature’s face in his hand, taking a moment to peer into the huge ovate orbs that were wet as ever. There was nothing physically wrong with them… Nothing functionally wrong with them… Lightly touching the substance that had wavered within them didn’t seem to prove this was some sort of fluid leak. As far as Gyro could tell, these were tears, plain as plain.

So then how was that possible? It wasn’t as if the scientist had actually sat down and built a mechanical version of every single organic function an ordinary person had when constructing BOYD—he and Akita wanted a defense drone—but he knew the little one had an approximation of a heart, and bones, and lungs, and other such things; He was an android, which meant he was deliberately supposed to resemble other people in addition to all the access ports and ribbon wire. Still. Things like tear ducts, taste buds, the need to sleep? Gyro didn’t physically install those things into him. Now a possibility occurred to him. He decided to address BOYD again.

“Can you tell me… Can you tell me everything you’ve been feeling since you talked to Mark Beaks? I know it might be hard, but I need you to try for me.”

BOYD felt Gyro place both hands on one of his. It was the first time the doctor had engaged him like that, and it brought on a warm confusion in spite of the pain he still felt at his core. BOYD’s teary eyes were trained on the floor when he started to analyze what kind of things that pain entailed.

“I’ve… been feeling…” he began, voice thin and shaky, “Sad… and overwhelmed… and afraid… and alone, and… and confused… Before, when I had programming issues, I would start to malfunction anytime something hurt me. But now instead of glitches coming on that I can’t control, it’s more like…”

BOYD’s whole body started to shiver. “It’s more like something my heart can’t control, I guess? Not literally, but, I…”

His vision grew blurry and his voice shakier than ever. “I don’t have anything holding me back from losing emotional control, and I don’t understand. What Mr. Beaks said really hurt, but… I’ve been told things that made me lonely and sad before. I don’t know why I’m only reacting this way now.”

BOYD shut his eyes, rubbing at them as he made a little whimper. “I’m sorry, Dr. Gearloose. I know that doesn’t help. The only other thing I know when I think about all this is that it scares me.”

Gyro felt choked up. He wanted to react beyond keeping his hands palmed over the one BOYD wasn’t wiping his own face with, but twenty years of distrust and cynicism had clouded his ability to be as kind as he used to. But that answer actually helped Gyro a lot. Before, he remembered BOYD saying something about eating—he didn’t need to, but he liked to—that he wondered whether or not he was able to taste, but it ‘seemed to register’. Gyro then supposed while he didn’t build BOYD to eat, it wasn’t impossible given the way he was made; He likely found some sort of place in his structure to double as a stomach, being that he was basically the same as any other boy.

This was what made it click in Gyro’s brain. He had programmed BOYD, for all intents and purposes, to be a living child. Even if the actual hardware wasn’t there, even if Gyro hadn’t thought of specifics when creating… Akita called it ‘real boy programming’—there were things within BOYD that could adapt, and apparently had adapted, themselves to become a part of his sentient reactions and behavior—there were things inside him that manifested because at the end of the day, BOYD was… well, BOYD was a boy.

BOYD wasn’t crying because he was built for it. He was crying because all boys were built for it.

Oh god. A realization like that sent a heavy weight into Gyro’s chest. This wasn’t just some invention that was child-like he’d made, as he initially thought two decades ago. He had brought a life into the world.

He was responsible for every bad thing that life would ever face, because he was the one responsible for ever having made something that could feel, could want, could hurt. Why hadn’t he once considered that when wiring sentience into a body? Gyro felt sick to his stomach.

Yet here was BOYD sitting on a desk, afraid because he wasn’t ever told what would happen if he was sad enough—as if crying was normal, but not for him.

“Dr. Gearloose…?” The timid squeaks in BOYD’s broken voice coupled with glumness on every part of his face made Gyro feel pain in every inch of his body. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Shocked as he was still, an automatic reaction came on that brought Gyro to dry the small creature’s eyes. This reaction, too, shocked him.

“No—no,” he answered nonetheless, just as reactionary.

“Really?”

The nervousness in that inquiry pushed Gyro on. What he was grappling with wasn’t important. There was a child in front of him, needing to be consoled. And while he normally was awkward with children—with people in general, really—Gyro knew about BOYD at least from a technical aspect. He wasn’t a medical doctor, but he did have a doctorate in mechanical engineering. He could work from there—he knew hardly anything about children from a biological standpoint, anyway. In a way, BOYD being an android worked to his advantage here. Gyro sobered up mentally and placed both hands on the little one’s shoulders.

“Yes,” he replied, surprised with himself that he was able to sound so matter-of-fact so quickly. He tried as hard as he could to sound gentle too. “Besides your internal structure, you are otherwise indistinguishable from organic life. You have thoughts and feelings, wants and needs. It’s inherent for you to be sad just as any normal boy would—because that’s what you are.”

BOYD looked back at the ground for a moment, then up at Gyro again, putting his tiny hand over the fold of the man’s thin elbow. There was something he wanted to know—there was still pain in his chest that was building up beyond his control.

“Then…” he asked with teary, pleading eyes, “Can I cry a little more?”

Gyro wished that he knew just what to say—his heart ached so much to hear such a little boy ask for permission to feel—but he simply gave a pitying, guilty, yet mostly obligatory, “Yes.”

That one word of acceptance sent BOYD over the edge. A little hiccup escaped him, and what had previously been only silent tears that fell on their own turned into a full-on fit. BOYD covered his face and wept.

Gyro tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat when he saw BOYD truly cry for the first time. But in under a minute, his creation said something that brought him to accommodate without a single thought.

“Dr. Gearloose? I know you said back in Tokyolk that hugging was just for that day, but—”

BOYD was interrupted when Gyro immediately drew him in with a one-armed hug, bringing him close and holding him tight. BOYD in turn drew himself closer to his creator, no longer holding back.

BOYD’s little cries then were soft and whining, innocent and unhinged in the way that became any child. Any time he needed to sniff or dry his eyes, he buried his face into Gyro’s chest, and sunk his tiny fingers deep into his vest. The length in each wail that came on now and again reflected the fact that BOYD had never cried before, and that he was discovering in the moment just how much he needed to all this time.

Poor BOYD, Gyro thought, barely ever allowed to simply hug anyone before. He was the sweetest living creature Gyro had ever known—always smiling so jubilantly and talking politely to everyone and everything—and yet so many people met him only with malice? That was far too unfair.

Oh.

But then, that was exactly what he’d done, wasn’t it? He’d so readily assumed when Inspector Tezuka brought BOYD down that he’d created something evil—he’d thought the evidence was everywhere, quite literally. But couldn’t it have been just as easy to think that someone like Dr. Akita who’d turned out to be a known criminal could have been responsible? Couldn’t Gyro have at least considered for a second that it wasn’t BOYD’s fault and defended him more? But he hadn’t. Instead he’d let his young mind believe everything his former mentor drilled into his head; His inventions were weapons, plain and simple, and nothing would change the fact that that would be a part of him the rest of his life—that he would always know somewhere in the back of his mind that he was just a big screw-up. And Gyro had taken that out on BOYD. He’d turned his anger and fear over himself and projected it into anger and fear over his first real invention. He’d defended inventions like Lil’ Bulb to the last ditch—even when the evidence they were turning evil was just as seemingly apparent, if not more so. Even they weren’t referred to as failures. All that bitter sarcasm and unkindness that became a part of who he was had all been based on nothing. When they’d reunited, he lashed out at BOYD over and over again, scornful whenever he even looked at him, refusing to call him anything other than an ‘it’, saying he was dangerous to his very core, saying he didn’t have feelings—even when the sadness and frightened tentative motions in his expression and body were clear as day—he even said straight to BOYD’s face that he was going to ‘fix’ his malfunctions by essentially flat-out killing him.

Gyro was furious when Mark Beaks made BOYD cry. But the first person to ever treat him inhumanely, was Gyro himself. It made him feel so unbearably guilty he almost couldn’t breathe. No matter what his eyes would look like anytime Akita’s programming kicked in—those things weren’t even there anymore. Anytime Gyro thought back, those big eyes were always so full of light—light of happiness, of sadness, of kindness, of intelligence, of innocence. How could he have ever looked at eyes like that—eyes that were capable of producing tears—and thought BOYD was evil?

Even if the child wouldn’t say so, Gyro knew there must still exist an ache within him over being rejected by the person that gave him life. He owed it to him to make it known just how sorry he was for it—even if the words kept getting jammed in the middle of his throat.

“BOYD,” he faltered, though it was now becoming easier to call him by his real name, “I need to apologize for the way I treated you back then. I know Mark Beaks hurt you when he told you that you weren’t worth his time. But the awful things I’ve said to you… they’re no different.”

BOYD calmed himself down a little to be able to speak. He didn’t face Gyro when he answered, but it wasn’t out of unacceptance—his answer was simply an automatic one.

“It’s okay…”

Gyro let go of BOYD for a moment to stare at him gravely in the face.

“No. It’s not okay.”

Gyro couldn’t remember when he’d talked so seriously before. He’d talked sternly—talked angrily—shouted several times… But as far as he knew, nothing compelled him to speak so straightforward and strict and deadpan as this in his life. He wasn’t going to let anyone make excuses for him ever again—not BOYD, and most certainly not himself.

“I said I’ve spent my whole life trying to live down my first invention being evil. But you were never made evil. I made you out to be evil. And now I’m going to spend the rest of my life living down ever having damaged you like that.”

Gyro found himself astonished that he was able to say what he did next, but nonetheless let it be said; BOYD needed to hear exactly what he was deserving of.

“And I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to do right by you. Because after everything that’s happened, I am so proud that a boy like you does right by me.”

In spite of BOYD’s constant shivering and whimpering, he was able to smile comfortingly just for a moment, nestling his head further into Gyro’s scrawny arms.

“I of all people know what it’s like to be new to Duckburg and down on your luck with nothing—with nobody. But I was fortunate. I met Scrooge McDuck and he gave me a place to work, and to make my way up the ladder. He was the only one to give me a second chance—to trust me.”

Gyro sighed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do the same for you—as if I didn’t learn. How you stayed the same as I built you this whole time is beyond me. I’m nothing like you.”

“That’s… That’s not true,” BOYD sniffed, rubbing his eyes again, “If I make you as proud as you say, then some of that had to come from you—where else would I get it from? The only other person around me then was Dr. Akita, and then I spent twenty years asleep in Duckburg. I’m like this because you made me. And if I’m still like this, that part of you has to still be in you too—doesn’t it?”

Gyro couldn’t respond to something so kind. He couldn’t. Gyro didn’t deserve merit like that. Instead, he turned to another question that he’d been thinking of as BOYD stayed settled under his arm—something more technical, but still in reference to the android’s feelings and his sentience.

“When you shiver…” he asked with difficulty, “Is it because you’re cold? And if you overheat, do you feel feverish?”

“I do feel sort of sick when something overheats inside me… At home, it’s treated like I have a cold, which usually helps. But… when I’m cold, I operate at peak efficiency, so that’s never uncomfortable.”

BOYD’s voice was still full of quiet hiccups and characterized by the hurt within him.

“I guess I’m shivering because of how sad I feel. There are a lot of things I’m scared of—and things I’m so glad of, they hurt—but mostly, I just keep thinking back to what Mr. Beaks said. He brings up this little voice in my head that tells me people don’t want me. Like I’m making it hard for them.”

Gyro surprised himself again by stroking the back of BOYD’s head lightly. Nevertheless, he responded with defense and firmness in his tone.

“You should make it hard for people like that to want you. If you’re a waste of energy to someone like Mark Beaks, then good. The more you keep being yourself, the less they’ll stick around to hurt you.”

BOYD looked up at Gyro once more with his wet, shining eyes.

“But you won’t do that if I’m myself around you, right?”

That question pulled Gyro into a riptide of guilt so strong that it almost drove him to cry. But he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting down the urge for BOYD’s sake—this was about him. He made it clear to himself he’d never let his little creation down again when he hugged him in Tokyolk—and now he was going to make it clear to BOYD, say it out loud to his face so there was never any doubt again. Gyro rested the hand he had on BOYD’s head, held him just a tad closer with his arm, and said,

“I’m only saying this once; There is nothing you could do in front of me that wouldn’t make me want you. Ever. You can come to me for whatever you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gyro watched as that sentence prompted tear after tear to fall down BOYD’s heated face, nearly every part of his insides nagging uncontrollably at him when the little creature encircled his puny waist with his arms.

“I’m so glad!”

The sobs that BOYD let loose figuratively jabbed the scientist in the gut as he thought of the fact that were it not for his sheer irresponsibility, the poor little thing would never have had to be born into a world that presented such harsh treatment.

Still, BOYD wanted to cry. Didn’t the need to cry come from getting to let go—to feel better—to be alive?

Gyro thought as he instinctively continued to stroke the small head under him with his thumb. If he had brought a life into the world that was going to have bad moments, that meant that the same life was going to have happy moments too, didn’t it? Well—he already had! BOYD might as well have been built as a bluebird. Gyro should be glad BOYD was finally allowed to have this kind of release. It meant he could finally, truly, feel like the definitely real boy he was. The pain of fault and responsibility still wracked Gyro—he figured it always might—but at this point, he was relieved the poor thing he held close in the underwater lab wasn’t going to be mistreated any longer—not if he could stand to help it. ______________________________

BOYD sat in Gyro’s lap, beginning to feel better as he allowed himself to let everything out in the embrace of someone close to him. He could cry as much as he needed around Gyro. And he was going to take that allowance for all it was worth.

Part of his crying now came from the warmth he felt knowing that the old Gyro he thought he’d lost was still in there somewhere—that he hadn’t gone after all—and that even though he’d through no fault of his own gotten it lost, he had brought its return as well. That restored a lot more of BOYD’s self-worth than he fully realized.

BOYD was so grateful—so, so grateful to have that Gyro here again. He didn’t understand why at first it hurt so much to be called an ‘it’ by his creator—he didn’t remember Gyro was his creator at the time—but to think that someone was afraid of him and that someone hated him just for being himself stung so badly. He didn’t cry then—he didn’t know he could. But he cried now, over the cutting things Mark Beaks said, over Gyro’s hand at his back, over anything he could think of that needed crying over—mostly however over the knowledge by now that Gyro didn’t see him as nothing more than a destructive machine—as ‘evil down to his core’ any longer. He could tell that even if Gyro didn’t say it, he loved him; He risked his own life just to hold him in his arms, to save him and others from himself. Now BOYD really did have someone who loved him the way a father would a son. He could hug Gyro if he wanted—as many times as he felt like it—and never be brushed off. That thought brought such relief to him, his processor couldn’t take it all in.

But he didn’t tell Gyro any of this; He noticed all those looks on his face—they gave away just how terrible he felt over not being able to do as much as he wanted for him right away. So he kept any more words from leaving his mouth in order not to burden his guardian with any more guilt. BOYD simply let himself release all the emotions he could which he didn’t know he had before, as if he were wringing himself out—and as such, began soaking up all the comfort he was being given like a dry and thirsty sponge.

BOYD learned some wonderful things that day as he clung so strongly to Dr. Gearloose in that lab—much as it hurt to tremble violently, and bleed out feelings until one’s eyes burned, and let out enough raw noise fit to make one’s throat sore. He learned that being allowed to feel so sad was rewarding, and cleansing. He learned that tears were something he could produce no matter what he felt. And he learned that everyone in the world would make mistakes, no matter what or who they were, but that it was never too late to grow from them.

~ Holy shoot, wow, this is the first serious fic I’ve ever posted on here before.

I really wanted to share it, because it took so long to write—although I didn’t think it would turn out so long… 8k words! It’s the lengthiest thing I’ve ever written.

Anyway, this is a story that is very dear to my heart, not only because I put the most into it out of anything, but because studying Gyro Gearloose as a character and loving his dynamic with BOYD has been one of the most amazing things to think of through the hiatus that came after Astro BOYD.

I always loved BOYD, of course, but once I started seeing all the art and fanfics that others had started doing out of the emotions that came with his and Gyro’s backstory, I got swept up in it too, and wanted desperately to get out all those feelings into one story.

The idea came from the concept of whether or not BOYD can cry. We’ve never really seen him do it before, and it’d probably be hard because he’s normally so happy—but I kept wondering if he, as an android, even could. So it hit me; What if BOYD could cry, but Gyro wasn’t aware of it? What if even BOYD wasn’t aware of it? I kept playing with what would possibly make him cry, because even when Gyro was threatening to shut him down or was calling him ‘it’, BOYD only frowned a little. Suddenly I got the nasty idea of Mark Beaks showing up and telling him he never wants to see him again, and it built from there—I started also thinking that maybe what brings BOYD to cry is just a long enough buildup of pain, and maybe he couldn’t feel as much because Akita’s meddling with him had gotten in the way before.

On a sidenote, Mark Beaks was pretty hard to write at first; I had to make sure his confidence was switched on all the time or he’d come off a little out of character. But much as this is about Gyro & BOYD, Beaks being awful is so deliciously fun to write. I think it’s because he makes you love whoever he’s being mean to even more.

Anyway, after I’d written that part out, I spent a lot more time than I initially thought I would focusing on how all this would make Gyro feel—that is, how much guilt his responsibility would bring on. I’m really desperate to see for myself how they interact in canon from now on, but I always imagine that Gyro’s feelings which are most associated with being a father are of guilt; They make him protective of BOYD, they make him sensitive to BOYD, and they might drive him to treat BOYD—again, be more like a father. Pretty much all Gyro’s niceness comes from wanting a do-over.

I never post my serious writing publicly—mostly because I’m really tentative and shy about showing my literary ‘skills’ and the kinds of raw emotion I spill out in words sometimes—but this fic slowly became something I wanted really badly to share with the DT fandom, as a thing that could both be a way to show my own interpretation and thoughts of Gyro and BOYD, and could maybe even be liked by people as much as it is by me.

I know a good few episodes have aired since Astro BOYD did, and that it’s been a long while since the episode has been talked about, but I’ve only now been brave enough to decide to put this story out there for all to see.

I really hope you enjoyed it.

(Incidentally, I wanted to be sure to post it before Let’s Get Dangerous! airs, because I know this fic would get swallowed up by all the emotions to be had from that episode… ^^; )

#boyd #gyro gearloose #astro boyd #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #mark beaks #fenton crackshell cabrera #doofus drake #oh boy here I go writing again #is my new tag for this predictably #not woy

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calypsoff · 3 years

Text

Fifty Five. Part 2

Mel’ voice scared me out of bed “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Robyn, Happy Birthday! To you!!” She shouted with a cupcake in hand, a lit candle on top “are you serious?” I said groggily “deadass ma’am, oh my god. You’re twenty six, but you look twenty” I chuckled “you really scared me” shuffling up on the bed slowly “I was out, nobody was going to wake me. How have I woke up tired still” resting my back against the headboard “wow, oh my god” Yusuf said pointing at my stomach “hey” pulling my top down “you lucky I wear panties” leaning forward closing my eyes, making my wish and blew the candle out “yay! Happy Birthday baby” Mel hugged me “aww thank you, I will forgive you all for scaring me. I love you all” Mel moved back from the hug “come here” waving Yusuf over “chile, I don’t know what I expected but I can’t believe how pregnant you are. I don’t know why I am shocked, but I haven’t seen your stomach since, I mean you are very much pregnant” Yusuf is shook “does it look that bad?” I questioned “no, just it too me back. Robyn is actually pregnant” hugging Yusuf as I cooed out, he isn’t used to it I get it “you know what we were waiting for you to wake up, but we were done waiting, we have breakfast waiting. Tina cooked so ain’t no ordering or anything so get out of bed, you missed all the birthday love last night. Noella text me like is that bitch going to respond. I said listen, her life has changed now. She is with child, we got to give her time to catch up” I huffed out smiling “how you think I feel, so I spoke to Chris in bed and then I was all comfy and then I needed to pee, my bladder felt so weak last night and I don’t get why, I will be back to my usual self, I promise” I am awful, I can’t believe how much I just slept last night, what is wrong with me.

Waving at all my team as I walked out of my room “oh god, y’all are so embarrassing. I feel like I should have dressed or something, god I am a mess” I am so shameful, here I am just walking out with my big tee on and half asleep still “oh be quiet, happy birthday baby” Jen gave me the biggest hug “thank you, that looks like a big breakfast, come here Tina” waving her over, I want to hug this tiny bitch “my tiny little child, look at her” hugging Tina “happy birthday to one of the most amazing boss, best friend” I cooed out “thank you Tina” she is so cute bless her “I heard you cooked this, it smells delicious” Mel my stylist came in for a hug “happy birthday my sexy baby mother, you are one sexy baby mother” the girls laughed “no, but am I joking. How fine does she look, her skin is popping too” he is too kind “stop it, I am just a lazy bitch now but come on babies. Let’s eat, before I become very angry. You know this baby likes food” walking towards the table “I am guessing this is my chair, seeing as it is decorated with balloons” pulling the chair back “of course, tonight we will turn up a little. But we shall start with breakfast” sitting down shuffling my chair in “is mommy blowing a fuse?” I asked, I know my mom probably is “she said where is my baby? I don’t think people are used to you being this quiet” my poor friends and family, this baby just wants me to sleep and hibernate. I want to do things, but this baby has other plans.

I have kind of peeped the start of Chris’ text and I have left it to the side because I just seen a picture of Chris and Drake in Vegas, I have just commented on his post. He really went out of his way to post such a nasty picture of me “do y’all believe that Chris liked this” I turned my phone to the table “like do y’all really think he liked that, look at me. My hair was barely done, this was before Joyce did my hair, those white folk weren’t good. I am mad at him; my hair was terrible. I looked so scared”. Mel chuckled “no it’s not even that bad, it was so sweet of him. It shows that he loved you then, you really had a forehead that only a momma could love” slapping Mel’ hand away “I am joking but to me that is sweet Robyn, I don’t know why you’re so offended” rolling my eyes “probably because his ass is in the club in Vegas but I looked terrible” a knock at the door of the apartment “get that” Mel said to Tina “you’re just being sensitive for nothing, he is in Vegas he is going to have fun but that is sweet, ok who else on the table thinks that post was nasty?” Mel announced to the table “I liked it” Jen said “see you’re just being negative about yourself; he did like you then so there you go little sensitive ass” I suppose, let me answer his text. I won’t call him because obviously he will be in there and I can’t be bothered to be shouting over that music.

To: Chris

From: Robyn

That is fine, be safe x

Pressing send on the message shaking my head “did you leave a comment on his post?” Mel asked, nodding my head “yeah, I put I really wish you didn’t with this picture but thank you baby” Mel rolled her eyes at me laughing “special delivery for you Robyn” looking behind me at Tina “what?” seeing the bouquet of roses “is it my secret admirer? I hope so” I joked, Tina placed the roses on the table “you wish bitch” grabbing the card on the roses “oohh, who is this” opening the envelope smiling “Happy Birthday Twin, sorry I can’t be with you right now. I want you to have the best day ever, I hope you like your gift from me to you, I chose this myself, so I hope you like it. I love you” I read it “oh my gosh, a gift” I beamed, Tina placed the box in front of me “House Of Miyake-Mugler?” I questioned “right, who helped him? Since when does Chris know fashion” I laughed, this is a lie “I swear I didn’t even help him, on my mother” Mel said, she knows I do not trust her. I can imagine she would help him, Chris really bought me a dress “right, let’s see what he got me. I don’t believe he can actually pick something nice” opening the ribbon on the box and then opening the box “oh we going white” getting up from the chair, pulling out the dress “oh it’s strapless” holding the dress up “oh this is cute, but it’s going to be figure hugging. I will have to get a jacket or something, you think it could work Mel? I need to hide my stomach” Mel nodded his head “that is a nice dress, he chose well. I am proud of him” Mel my stylist likes it so that means he has done well.

I hate myself; I missed my flight that left at eight so I am sat in the airport having to pay above the price I paid in the first place to get the flight at Ten which means I will get to Robyn late as hell, I text Mel that I will have to meet them at their meal because I am going to be late. I overslept, I drank a little more then I should have maybe but then I went to sleep, I shouldn’t have but I needed to sleep the booze off, I can’t be drunk on this flight. I see Robyn did text me, but she seemed annoyed, I don’t think she was happy that I went but I had a good night, I met Dr Dre, I was a big fan to him. I am sure he hated me, but Drake really made it known I was married, he announced it on several occasions and then was getting all hype about it, played Rihanna’ songs too but even though people knew who I am married too, females didn’t care. They were still there, just there sitting with me asking me questions but like, I wasn’t here for that. I mean girls are always going to be there, not like I care but I don’t want it to be more then what it is, because it’s never that. I am just happy that I had a good night, I didn’t pay for no drinks. Just good vibes, that is all I wanted. Looking down at my phone, my followers have shot up. Like we in hundred thousands now, that is because of the Vogue thing “wild” I said to myself, tapping on my tagged photos. I knew it would be full of the Drake pictures, I mean all we did was take pictures. Oh I don’t remember that one, maybe I do. It’s a group picture so it’s whatever, but what is my arm doing around her, she is something to do with Drake, I think anyways but it was all harmless.

I am stood in the disabled toilets waiting for my flight, I am stood in here because I do not want Robyn to know anything that I am going to see her in London. Pressing my phone to my ear as it rang out, I hope she pick up. I do assume that she is annoyed with me that is why I want her to pick up “hey” Robyn answered finally “happy birthday twin, aye. How are you?” I sound so husky there “I am ok, how about yourself you sounding a little rough there baby? Long night” I chuckled “could say, I did text you, you got it right?” I am saying it like she didn’t text me back “I did but you had to go out on the day of the announcement, I see the little video of you turning up too, least you had a good time. You going out tonight too?” she is not happy “I am, to celebrate your birthday twin, I think I will be. I will tell you now because you may go to sleep early, you sleep well yeah? You weren’t even picking up” I know my wife, she wants to be annoyed with me, but she can’t say anything “I slept a lot, this baby is taking out of me, but I love the dress so much. I just wanted to say thank you, you really set the tone for my birthday, I wasn’t expecting anything from you, so this was such a surprise, just shows you think about me. You have taste too, I love the dress so much” I cooed out, I am happy she liked it “you know I got you, I wouldn’t forget your birthday just sucks that you are there and I am here, I miss you” I need to stop teasing her like that “yeah” Robyn breathed out, I do hate it that we are apart “I really hate it, I wish I was there” oh god, now she is crying “stop crying Robyn, please not on your birthday. I know you been a little sad about it, I felt it in my heart but don’t be sad, I promise you we will have many more, you got mine to celebrate” Robyn laughed “you’re so annoying, I just miss you. I miss your touch Chris; it’s been so long. But I will be ok, just be careful out there, I am trying to get this all done and dusted soon, I need to have my appointment” I feel bad now “it’s been a while Robyn since I seen you too, I can only imagine you have changed. I wanted to see that change myself, I wanted to be there but we going to be ok Robyn so please be optimistic. I love you” that is my little words of wisdom done.

With every little delay I am getting annoyed, we were supposed to leave at ten and fifteen minutes has gone, and we are still here not left “excuse me ma’am” I said to the flight attendant “yes sir?” she said “why are we still here on the ground, are we leaving now?” this is annoying “we will be leaving now sir so please remain in your seat” nodding my head, I am sat in business class, this flight is long as fuck so I wasn’t about to be sat squashed in the back, I am not doing that at all. I am actually trusting both TJ and Barry with my business right now, Cena and Neima left too, they are going to work on what we discussed so I have to trust them two, I am not even going to lie how pissed off I was about them doing what they did, how can they fuck up a supplier like that. But they are my friends, so I got to just relax on that, I don’t want to break that friendship over this. I do need to mention to them that they won’t have a big role in the business like that anymore. So they won’t get the big money like they do unless they do want to work for me.

I feel so groggy, this time difference is really hitting me. It’s no good, I am going to be sleeping well tonight. I am just so glad that we have landed, and we can get off this plane, people are all rushing to get off the plane, I should be doing the same. It is so late, like I am hitting Robyn’ bed time right now. Tapping on Mel’ name, I bet Mel is panicking thinking what am I doing “I will be back, yes sorry” she said down the phone “where are you? Robyn is acting like I am holding her hostage now, have you actually landed here? Please say you have” Mel pleaded “yeah I am here, I have landed. So where are you? You told me I forgot” she did mention it “The Arts Club, it’s on Mayfair. Tell the cab to drop you off here, you will need to come by security. Tell them you’re here with Rihanna” pulling a face “is this place fancy, I have my suitcase with me?” Mel huffed out “our car is parked there, you know what. Rich will be around; I will text him to meet you. Put your suitcase in the car, don’t bring that in here, hope you’re dressed nicely” pulling a face “Mel, I ain’t getting changed. I will knock a nigga out, they will let me in” Mel chuckled “just come, hurry about it too” she disconnected the call, standing up on the plane. I need to leave “hi, excuse me sir” looking over at the lady as I shuffled out of my seat, turning to her “can I have a picture with you” pulling a face at her “me?” this weird “please, I love Rihanna and I seen recently that you both married and I find the whole story so cute” I chuckled “oh yeah, why not” this is mind blowing that people want to take pictures with me.

Rich is stood waiting for me, he opened the cab door “come on, get out” he started laughing, he grabbed my suitcase for me “thank you friend” I said to the cab driver as I got out, taking my backpack with me “you come to surprise me?” Rich joked “you happy that I am here?” he shook his head “I will take your backpack too to the car, it’s a very upscale place so let’s not take big bags with you “and” moving my face away as the flash got into my eyes “that, yes paparazzi are posted outside” that looks fun, they rushed over once one of them saw me “I ain’t even famous, what the fuck. You good with my stuff?” I asked, he nodded his head walking off. Walking towards the front door, the paparazzi are really on my ass “how does it feel to be married to one of most beautiful popstars?” one shouted, the guy opened the door for me as I got inside. I am glad that is over “hi sir, what are you here for?” this big guy asked, security of course “Rihanna, she is in here” he looked me up and down “the dress code does state no trainers” I groaned “bro, I have just come on a flight from Vegas to surprise my wife that is sat in there you really going to play in my face when I am this jet lagged” he went quiet not saying a word, he nodded his head and opened the door for me, he knows not to fuck with me because either way I would go inside.

Mel and I caught eyes straight away, she breathed out. She looks so relieved to see me, you can tell they purposely sat Robyn there because she can’t see here. Robyn has her hair in a ponytail, the way I have won right now, I love when her hair is like that “sorry” hitting into someone, I am too mesmerised by the fact my twin got her hair up, she knows that my weakness, she knows this. Getting closer to the table, it’s like everyone is staring at me but not making it obvious at the same time, they are trying not to stare but they are staring. I am just behind Robyn’ chair, she is so damn loud with her mouth. Leaning over slowly, placing my one hand on the table and the other behind her chair “you finished being loud?” I said, Robyn froze and then turned to me. Her face all in mines, I have missed her so much, she yelped out getting up from the chair and I moved back. Robyn grabbed me, her arms around my neck as she sobbed out crying “happy birthday twin, I know it’s late, but I missed a flight here” Robyn is about to make me cry, she is really crying a lot. Her grip around my neck is so tight “you came” she managed to say “I came here for you, you look so good Robyn, you really do” rubbing her back as she continued to cry, she is so sad.

“Oh my god, my makeup is a mess now” Robyn stepped back trying to save her makeup “here you go mama” Jen gave her a napkin “you got me fucked up, look at me” I chuckled “hi everyone, hope y’all well. Has she been complaining about going home?” I questioned “baby she was ready to walk, I am glad you came now” Yusuf spat “we are here drinking on her behalf too” looking over at Robyn smiling “they kept you here for me, you think I would miss your birthday” Robyn shook her head “stop, I am not going to stop crying” wrapping my arm around Robyn “you look so beautiful, I wouldn’t ever miss a birthday Robyn, we missed too many important dates already, never again. You know I would follow you anywhere” pressing a kiss to the side of her face “best gift to me, look at me. I can’t stop” nodding my head understanding, Robyn’ stomach caught my eye “no way, oh my god Robyn” I stepped back, that stomach has come out. Looking up at Robyn’ face in shock, my mouth hung open “that is really a bump” she is showing “stop, don’t make a scene” Robyn hugged me, I am in shock.

We moved places with Mel to sit in the corner, Robyn is getting me fed anyways “I am so tired, look at me. When I called you I was drunk, well not so much drunk but yeah. I was so angry, I was supposed to be here for you like two hours ago, I would have been here for your cake and stuff but just like you. I am tired, we about to sleep good tonight” Robyn looks so happy, she is so damn happy “trust me, I was about to send you pictures of my fit actually, I did a ponytail for you. I was like Chris likes my hair like this” nodding my head smiling “I am in shock, you have been so busy on skype with business that you never showed me” placing my hand over Robyn’ bump “wow” Robyn raised her hand up “ignore me, I am ok” she is really crying about everything “stop it” holding Robyn’ hand “stop crying, I am here now. Once I ate we can go, I am tired. Like if I am talking shit ignore me” she is emotional “you have made my birthday, you really have. I have been somewhat so miserable, I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday, but I also didn’t want to travel back and forth, I promised myself to not be acting stupid. I am here so I stay here until it’s done, I am not travelling back and forth” nodding my head understanding “and you think I wouldn’t come to you, my clothing line is not above you” Robyn lower lip quivering “look at you, you got a tan. You look so well, you were on the shade room and I was like look at him. He looks so happy, so I didn’t want to you know, bring that down with my mood because that is unfair on you” shaking my head “stop it, well I am here now” Robyn placed her hand a top of mine “you not going to let me go now are you” she shook her head laughing.

#chrianna #chrianna ff #chrianna fanfiction #fanfiction #chriannaff #fanfic

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paintmelikeoneofyourfrenchpoodle · 4 years

Text

((Alright, so this is probably way overdo.

Why the heck Jade gets so weird about sex sometimes:

Alright, so this is going to be a little ridiculously long, but if you want to know? I’m putting it under the cut. Also, TW: there is a brief mention of abuse. Not of her, but its relevant. I’ll also put another warning when that part is about to come up.

Okay so, I’m going to start of with some context. So for anyone who might not know, this Jade is pretty old. I started rping her as her back in… I think late December of 2015 or early January of 2016? Either way, it was a few months before Homestuck actually ended. At this point obviously we had no idea how it was going to end, or what was going to happen to the characters at that point. Heck, if I remember correctly GIGAPAUSE, or whatever it was called, was still going on.

Anyway, didn’t know they were going basically jump start civilization and jump into the future, that’s for sure. So, not knowing how things were going to turn out for Jadey girl here, I basically made some educated guesses based on what we knew at the time, and mixed in my own ideas and head-canons to create the timeline this Jade now exists in. This included the loss of the meteor lab, building a new civilization from the ground up (and actually sticking around to help build it), and having everyone live in a fairly small, tight knit community. Mind you, some minor things have changed to reflect the retcon John did, but mostly I’ve kept things fairly the same.

So what does this mean for Jade or have anything to do with her sexuality? We’ll get to that, but I’m going to prelude things by saying it isn’t just sex she gets worked up about. It’s relationships and intimacy in general, and there isn’t really one set reason why. There is a gosh darn list.

1) She doesn’t have the best social skills. Growing up on an island with the only human contact being through the internet isn’t exactly the best way to nurture healthy emotional development. To top it all off, she spent those 3 years on the ship basically alone thinking she killed John and Davesprite. She isn’t a complete social ignoramus obviously, but she has her awkward moments and she KNOWS it. Which, can give her some major social anxiety in general. And as far as relationships, even friendships go, she is constantly worried she is going to screw things up. She also just wasn’t used to people in general for a good while.

Mind you, it’s almost been 10 years since the end of the game now from her perspective so she has improved drastically, but there are still some hangups that she has. For example, she doesn’t handle crowds well considering she was so used to being alone. Can Town is full mostly people she is familiar with and the population is only 1,000ish, so she is mostly in her comfort zone still even during busier occasions. However, notice Jake and her chose to move outside of town when they got the chance? There you go.

2) She isn’t used to physical touch. Which… is really sad considering how much she actually loves it. Again, this is something that has improved over the years, but she still doesn’t like being messed with by people she doesn’t know.

3) She honestly thinks that in the end she will end up alone. Jade, hasn’t exactly had the best luck with romance. Remember, her timeline is fairly small, and pretty much everyone she might be compatible with already paired up with someone else. To top it off, she had (and still kind of has) a massive crush on her timeline’s Dave, and built up a lot of false hope that something might eventually happen between the two of them thanks to John telling her about Davesprite and Davepeta kissing her that one time. Yeah, that didn’t happen. He ended up getting with Karkat finally when they were around 22, and while she is happy for them and supports them in any way she can, it kind of broke her heart.

She also hasn’t had the best luck with people she’s been interested in online/from other timelines either. Usually, by the time she realizes she might be interested in someone they end vanishing, dating someone else, or they actually… end up being kinda awful people she shouldn’t have liked in the first place. (*cough*Venom*cough*) Also, she has a habit of dwelling on the whole “space players are destined to be alone” thing from time to time. Over the years she has genuinely started to think that she just isn't cut out for being anyones partner romantic/sexual/otherwise, and that people aren’t ever going to be interested in her for whatever reason. She’s built up this shell around herself, this illusion that she has come to terms with things, so that when that eventuality happens, she’ll maybe not be hurt so badly. So when someone shatters that illusion? She panics and gets flustered, and remember… she is related to these guys:

(Mind you Jake had plenty of reason to act like that, but it was the only one I could find with a quick google search.)

But yeah, I think big reactions kind of runs in her family.

4) She’s inexperienced. Three times as of this point. Yep. Thats it. That’s all she has done. Ever. Don’t get her wrong, she has really enjoyed it and really gets into things once she was able to get over the jitters. Plus, she was the one that asked for it each time. But she doesn’t like not knowing what she is doing, and it wigs her out because she doesn’t want to mess things up. Also fun fact, she’s never been on a non pale date before. Just throwing that in there.

5) The whole being part dog thing. As much as she loves being part canine, she actually can be real self conscious about it at times. Also, she *hates* how people will sometimes look at her as a fetish, and gets worried that if someone is interested in her its because she is a dog girl, and not because of who she is. She does enjoy indulging in her dog side (girl likes being pet), but she wants to make sure someone to see her as herself first and foremost. Being part dog should just be a bonus.

6) She’s a bit of a hopeless romantic. She wants to actually have a connection with people, and honestly is that so wrong? One night stands, flings, or casual whatevers aren’t completely out of the question, but at least give her a chance to be friends with you first geez. 7) She’s scared of being hurt. This is kind of caused by a combination of things up top, but she genuinely is afraid of the idea of being fucked and dumped. She’s got enough emotional issues as is, and does not need that on her conscious as well. Getting intimate with her in any way can take a lot of trust depending on the person. Additionally…

*Okay, so here is the part I warned about up top.* She has had far too many friends who have been taken advantage of and abused. There have been several people that she has been close to over the years that have been seriously messed up by their partners. Jade’s smart and she knows it, but she also knows she can be really naive about certain things as well. It’s kind of the cherry on top of all her paranoia.

Okay bad part over

So yeah! This is ridiculously long, but there you go. I feel like it is important to note that Jade does really enjoy being with someone intimately and/or sexually given the chance. It just can take some work getting her out of her shell. It’s something she knows she needs to work on, and would like to. However, she hasn’t really ever had many opportunities to.

Also, her behaviors really only apply to herself for the most part. She might get a little embarrassed by other people talking about their own stuff from time to time, but she actually can get a real kick out of it sometimes as well. Has been known to have lengthy conversations with people about their own preferences, sexual interests, habits, ect. She will even tease other people about it! It’s when it gets flipped back on her somehow that she starts getting worked up. Heck, she is normally fine with people getting her flustered because she *knows* a lot of her own behavior is ridiculous, and that when people pick at her it is usually harmless friend banter. She also usually knows when people are being truly malicious towards her and WILL defend herself. Don’t think she is a pushover just because she looks like she is an easy target. This girl has some bite alongside that bark.

Anyway, there is probably some more I could add to this but again it is stupid long at this point. I hope this isn’t too confusing and explains a few things.

#ooc #long post #abuse mention #ask to tag

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prettyboongi · 4 years

Text

Just Spill It

Reader x Kim Taehyung

2k+ words

Genre: Crack, Fluff

[Note: I’ve been written fic lately because of school and everything. I actually had to work on a huge paper all week and was waiting until I got everything out of the way to write this. And boy, this request was such a doozy lol. The game that everyone plays in the story is that “Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts” game on James Corden late night show. And I have to be honest: I’m not a huge fan of talk shows or even Corden’s show for that matter. So I had to watch a bunch of videos the shows clips on YouTube just to understand the game. So yeah, this request was super challenging and I hope I got everything right ^-^}

You were putting the finishing touches on the chocolate cupcakes you’ve spent the past couple of hours baking when you heard the doorbell rang. “Must be them,” you thought to yourself. Checking the time, you saw that it was a little bit past seven in the evening. “A little late but, with them, what’s new? ”. You gave your sticky hands a quick rinse and headed towards the door.

Tonight was a very sacred night for you and the boys: the coveted Game Night. Always organized by you and thrown at your place, Game Night for you guys were legendary. Starting off with a harmless game, again of your choosing, the night would always end with someone throwing a temper tantrum, crying dramatically, yelling match between two or more of the boys or someone having to act out a degrading yet hilarious penalty for losing. Sure it was complete chaos but it was also tons of fun. There was never a dull moment with these nerds and you really cherished the time you had with them. With recording sessions, promoting albums and projects in between, it was very hard to find time to hang out. While you understand their obligations to BTS, it still makes you feel lonely most of the time. That’s why Game Night was super important to you and, knowing how important it was for you, the boys always left the planning to you.

You opened the door to an assortment of greetings, one more zany than the last. “Hey guys,” you welcomed, “come on in”. As the boys spilled in, you had to remind them about being a little less rowdy, the last Game Night being interrupted by your neighbors filing a noise complaint. “I’d rather not have the cops being called to my place again.”

“Well we wouldn’t have had the police called on us if Jin hyung didn't have that huge freak out,” Jungkook says teasingly.

“Well,” Jin responds with a fake smile, trying to hide his annoyance, “I wouldn’t have freaked out if Yoongi here wasn’t cheating!” He gestures to a totally unbothered Yoongi already relaxing on the sofa.

Stifling your laughter, you walked over to the kitchen to check on sweets you were finishing up. There you found Taehyung chowing down on the cupcakes. Seeing that he already had eaten three of the dozen you’ve made, you derided him, “Tae! Stop being a pig and save the rest for the others.”

He swallowed a mouth full of cupcake and smiled cheekily. “Come on, Y/N, you know that these are my favorite. You obviously made them for me.” He pointed to the thin strawberry slices you placed on top.

You opened your mouth in protest but stopped immediately. Yes, you knew chocolate cupcakes were his favorite. Especially with strawberries. And yes you made them with him in mind. But no way were you going to give him the satisfaction.

He eyes you impishly, as if he won this conversation. You took the cupcake tray from his reach and said to him sternly, “just wait until everyone had at least one, then you can eat the leftovers. Deal?”

“Deal”

Walking over to the living room area with Taehyung trailing behind you, you placed the tray of cupcakes next to the fried chicken Namjoon had brought over. You saw that everyone was helping themselves to heaping amounts of the crispy, savory chicken. “Please try not to fill up too much food tonight,” you warned them, “you guys will need to leave some room for what we’re playing tonight.”

“Oh, what do you have planned for us tonight?”, asked Namjoon before taking a huge bite of his food.

Before you could answer, Hoseok interjects, “Oooh! Let me guess. Striped poker?”

“No Hoseok,” you flatly answered, shutting him down.

“Strip Monopoly?” Jimin adds.

“No guys, no one is taking their clothes off. Especially not after that one Game Night,” you said rather dimly. The boys shuddered as they remembered that ill-fated night, a story left for another time. “But yeah, I got this idea from a night talk show that I found myself watching one night. The host was playing this game with their guest where they had both get to ask each other some pretty invasive questions. But if either of them chooses not to answer the question they were given, they had to eat or drink something gross that the other person picked out for them. I thought it was pretty funny and we could all try it.” Despite being excited yourself, you couldn’t help but notice an array of mixed emotions.

“I dunno, Y/N, it sounds kinda...sketchy”, Namjoon says.

“I mean yeah, but that’s kinda the point. Come on, you have to admit it's pretty interesting.”

“To be perfect honest, this game sounds fucking awful,” Yoongi opens, “but hey, what the hell. Let's how it goes.”

You ushered the guys to the balcony, where it was decorated with glowing string lights and a new set of furniture bought for this occasion. You presented the boys to a medium size table, topped with what was assumed plates covered with linen napkins.

“Here’s what we’re dealing with tonight, gentlemen,” you announced rather theatrically. One by one, you lifted up each napkin, revealing a collection of foods you knew that would churn some stomachs: fried octopus, super spicy cinnamon candies, 100% cacao chocolate, mint creme Oreos, a spinach milkshake, ambrosia salad and a fluffernutter sandwich. The boys examined each dish, some already nauseated by the sight of certain dishes. “I didn’t want to go too far like the show did,” you explained, “just took some ideas from friends back home and food I know some of you already hate.”

“Are there any winners in this game?,” Jimin asks cautiously

“No, there aren’t. Okay everyone have a seat!” After everyone had taken a seat, you went over how the game works again. “Oh, I forgot to add that you guys don’t have to necessarily finish the food. Under the table, there’s a few little trash bins you can spit into. But come on, I’m going easy on you guys, you shouldn’t need to spit anything out.”

“You call a spinach milkshake ‘going easy’ on us?” Jungkook asks.

“Don’t be a baby,” you gave Jungkook a mocking look while sitting yourself between Jin and Yoongi. “So here’s how we’re gonna take turns. We’ll start with me, then we’ll go clockwise ending with Yoongi. Is that good?” Murmurs of agreement answered your question. “Okay, for my turn I pick… Namjoon!” The sound of hearing his name startles him, causing his body to go rigid. “If you don’t answer my question, you’d have to eat the fried octopus.

“Ha, bring it then” Namjoon says, trying to feign as much confidence that he can.

“Alright,” you paused for a moment, “If you choose a Disney character to make out with, who would it be?”

“Oh that’s easy. Undoubtedly, Miss Potts,” he says matter of factly. The table goes silent, weirded out by such a choice.

“From Beauty and the Beast?”, you asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” asks Hoseok.

“Well, she’s a cool character. She has a warm personality and she seems like a great mom to Chip. Who wouldn’t pick her?”

Somehow that leaves even more questions than answers any. “Okay…,” you respond, still a bit perturbed, “Jin’s turn.”

Jin looks around the table to find his perfect target and finds it in none other than Jimin. “Jimin, I pick the mint Oreos for you if you don’t answer my question.” Jimin puts on a brave face but it’s obvious the anticipation is killing him inside. “There was one time during that afterparty a while ago when I saw you and Seulgi running off somewhere. You told me you two were just chatting but what were you two really up to?,” He asked with a mischievous smirk on his face. Ooooohs” echoed around the table as we waited for Jimin’s answer. With a stony smile plastered on his face, Jimin stares at Jin for a moment before reaching out for an Oreo. He takes a huge bite of the minty cookie while keeping his stare at Jin, ultimately gagging on it and having to spit out the whole thing. The whole table erupts in laughter as you said, “We’re off to a good start.”

As the night went by, the game carried on without any issues. Among the highlights was Hoseok revealing his biggest (and not surprising) kink and watching Jungkook down an entire spinach milkshake. Seeing how much fun the gang were having, you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for pulling off yet another successful Game Night. The game was nearing its end when the last turn went to Yoongi. And since you were the only one that hasn’t been asked a question, it was obvious this one was going to be directed towards me.

Yoongi turns to you, “The ambrosia salad for this simple question.” You nodded in agreement, not knowing what he meant by “simple”. “Are you in love with Taehyung?”

All around, everyone pauses at Yoongi’s question. Especially you, whose mind goes blank for a moment before speaking up. “What? What’re you talking about? What kind of question is that?” You tried laughing it off.

“A simple one,” he answers. “Are you in love Taehyung?”

“Of course, I love him. He’s like my best friend-”

“I mean, we all know that but are you IN love with him?” Namjoon interjects.

You look around the entire table, leaning in to hear your answer. Your eyes eventually land on Taehyung sitting across from you. He’s clearly embarrassed yet interested in hearing your answer as well. You felt your face burning up as well as your heartbeat quickening from all of this unwanted attention.. You could’ve taken the easy way out and lied, you were sure of the guys were lying when answering their questions. But you couldn’t. One, for the integrity of Game Night and second, you would have to answer yes. For the longest time, you never wanted to admit to yourself but you were in love with Taehyung. Madly in love with him. You loved the banter the two of you developed over the years. You loved how he would annoy you and then make it up by being extremely adorable. You love how he was the only man that ever made you feel special. Without any doubt, you were in love with him. However, you weren’t about to reveal it in front of the boys while playing this dumb game.

After much anticipation, you deeply sighed and ate a huge spoonful of the slightly warm ambrosia salad. You tried your best to swallow it but the conflicting textures of creamy base and the coconut flakes was too much for you. Feeling that you were about to barf, you quickly got up and ran back into the apartment. You reached the bathroom (and thankfully the toilet) and regurgitated everything you tried to keep down. You felt some tears forming at the corner of your eyes, not sure if it was from throwing up or the sheer humiliation you’ve just experienced. “Don’t let this get to you, it’s just part of the game,” you told yourself. You wiped the tears from your eyes, rinsed your mouth with mouthwash and headed out of the bathroom.

As you were walking back to the balcony, you bumped into Taehyung in the hallway. “Oh…,” was all you could muster to say. There was a brief awkward silence between you two, a rarity in your close relationship. Taehyung looks away as he scratches the back of his head while you kept your head down. “I should’ve known I was going to be hit with a question like that,” you finally opened, “ Yoongi never plays around, doesn't he?.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung responds, “except for when he’s cheating.”

You both look at each other for a moment before breaking into a light laughter, easing the tension. Once you were done giggling, you caught Taehyung staring at you with his gorgeous, sharp eyes. The look in his eyes were filled with sincere and the kind of intimacy only two best friends shared. Or maybe there was something more to that look.

"Tae-," you started but stopped when Taehyung put his hand up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

"You don't have to say anything, Y/N" he says to you.

Earlier when Jimin asked if there were any winners in the game, it turned out there were two that night.

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negasonicteenagemess · 5 years

Text

Fall For Me peter parker imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Request: This is my first ever request so I hope this is clear, clumsy reader has a crush on the adorable peter parker and peter has a crush on the readers more confident superhero self. Kinda like miraculous ladybug if you've ever watched it? Both are like hero partners and peter really wants to know who she is but she thinks they shouldn't know eachothers identities because it might affect how they work. And somehow peter finds out her identity? Hopefully this is okay, I love your writing💌

No FFH Spoilers (as I wrote this before I saw the movie) But I just finished playing “The Heist” dlc for the spider-man ps4 game, so this has small Black Cat vibes (and also a few other references in the game)

roughly edited

masterlist

Superhero name: Khaos (Chaos, but spelled in a greek wayyyy)

Y/N and Spider-Man both sat perched side by side on the edge of the dirty top of a New York roof under the dark sky. Well it wasn’t technically Y/N, it was her alter ego; Khaos. Spider-Man and Khaos, the famous dynamic duo of New York. They were the city’s protectors, and everyone looked up to them. Clad in her usual white full body suit, black boots and black domino mask (a mask styled like Robin’s), she gazed at the sky looming above her, starless from light pollution.

“I really miss the stars,” she muttered softly.

Spider-Man turned to face her with the mechanic eyes on his mask slightly widened. “Where’d you used to live before here? Ya know, where you were able to see the stars?” The man questioned, trying to get the smallest piece of information about who she was.

She glanced at him with a small smirk, “nice try, Spider, but I’m not telling you anything.” He huffed, looking down and shaking his head, “well it was worth a try.”

The masked girl raised a brow at the statement and sarcastically replied, “was it though?”

“It’s always worth a try with you babe,” he cockily said, making Khaos roll her eyes and shake her head.

The girl jumped down onto the nearest lamp post to get closer to the group of men. Spider-Man followed her footsteps, but on a different post.

They both looked over the group, taking note on each man’s position. They’d recently discovered that one of New York’s famous mob families was trying to bust into a bank. They immediately thought of stopping them before the crime ensued.

“I got this one Spider,” Khaos muttered through the earpiece imbedded in her mask. She jumped down, knocking the man in the head before hiding to find her next target.

Spider-Man stealthily webbed the man up and sticking him to the lamppost. He jumped down, nearing closer to the girl. “Okay, what do we do now?” He questioned as he crouched down, looking at Khaos before looking around the entrance of the bank.

“There’s about twelve of them left, and they’re all clustered together,” she stated, looking above the crate she hid behind, “so there aren’t many options.”

Spider-Man looked around, seeing the dozen men, “go in guns blazing?” Khaos smiled at the comment, “well since you’re best at that, then by all means, let’s do it.”

He shot her finger guns, standing up straighter, “this is why you’re my number one girl, K.”

He walked closer and made sure the group of men would be able to hear him. “Hey, do you guys know the way to Rykers?”

All the men turned to face him, aiming their guns at the red and blue target. “No? Well I’ll guess you’ll find out soon,” he mocked, shooting a web at one of the men to grab the gun. Spider-Man swung it around, hitting anyone in a close vicinity.

He chucked the rifle at the man he stole it from, knocking him out. He shot webs at a bald guy, webbing him to the concrete beneath them. Bullets flew out of guns and due to his ‘spider sense’ he was able to dodge all of them.

Spider-Man shot a web, pulling himself closer to the group of men, dodging and throwing punches. “You know, you can join at any time Khaos,” he grunted, jumping over one man to web him with another guy.

He heard her chuckle into her mic, “why? It’s fun to watch you struggle.” He threw a web grenade, webbing most of the men, but still having to deal with five other lads.

“Please,” he begged, his voice straining. Y/N could tell that he sugarcoated his pleas and knew he could handle all of those guys, but she jumped in to help him. Or, flew down from where she was rather. “Hey guys,” she taunted as she levitated in the air, darkness clouding around her hands as the guns in the mob members’ hands were pulled away from them and behind the superhero duo.

“Now, I suggest you boys put your hands up,” she demanded in a sickly-sweet tone, and out of fear, they listened.

Spider-Man webbed them to the wall of the bank. “Why couldn’t you do that to begin with?” He suggested out of breath as he walked close to Khaos when she landed on the ground. Her eyebrows raised, the mask moving with them, “well you wanted to go in guns blazing if I recall.”

He scoffed, pointing to the men webbed to the wall, “what you can do is ten times cooler than what I can do, princess.” She blushed, but Spider-Man didn’t notice due to the nearby police sirens and flashing lights distracting him.

Khaos sighed and levitated in the air again, “gotta call it a night, Spider. Same time tomorrow?” They both knew that was just a harmless joke, as they fought crime together every day.

He smiled under the mask, “you know it darling. I’ll be counting down the minutes.” Khaos rolled her eyes with a small smile, “see ya Spider.”

She flew away into the dark sky as Peter leapt and swung in the opposite direction. He sighed, looking over the New York skyline, “one day, she’ll fall for me.”

Y/N jumped into her room, huffing as she pulled her mask off. “Another day, another city saved,” she mumbled while taking off the rest of her superhero getup. She plopped onto her bed, making sure to set the alarms on her phone. Closing her eyes, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next morning at school before the bell rang, Peter walked up to Y/N, Ned, with Betty glued to his hip, and Michelle. “Hey guys,” he approached, pausing the song that was blaring through his headphones.

“H-Hey Peter,” Y/N greeted, with excited nervousness lacing her voice and obvious bags under her eyes. Peter smiled at her, but then to the rest of his friends.

“What’s up?” He asked, stuffing his phone into the back pocket of his pants. Ned took this as his chance to speak. “Oh, we were just talking about Spider-Man,” he stated emphasizing the hero’s name with wide eyes at Peter, “and Khaos at some bank last night.”

The group of teens nodded as Peter glared at Ned. “Y-Yeah they stopped this mob family, and it was awesome,” Y/N said excitedly. The excitement diminished as she corrected herself, “it looked awesome! Do you wanna see the video? It’s security footage from the bank that was released this morning.”

Her smile was bright as the other three continued their conversation. Peter nodded and she eagerly pulled out her phone and went to step closer than him. MJ, watching her movements, took this as a chance to trip her friend, knowing what the result would be.

So, Y/N tripped over MJ’s foot, a small yelp escaping her lips. To her surprise, she didn’t hit the floor. She fell straight into the arms of Peter Parker. “Woah easy there,” he chuckled smoothly with his arms around her, trying to steady her. Y/N’s cheeks turned bright red, unknowing of the small smirk on Michelle’s face.

The group of teenagers paused their conversation at the scene unfolding between the two. Y/N slowly pulled herself from his arms, “s-sorry Pete.” She was so embarrassed, she didn’t know what to say, “I’ve just, it’s been a weird night. I’m really out of it.”

The statement caused Peter to raise his brows and their friends, yet again, went back to their own conversation. “What’d you do?” He questioned, moving his hands off her forearms.

Y/N’s mouth dropped, and she tried to find the words to say. “I, uhh, I stayed up really late… watching the Godfather.”

Peter felt skeptical over her response but quickly brushed it off. “Good movie choice,” he snickered. Y/N smiled and nodded her head, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

She opened the video on YouTube, then handed her phone to Peter. She stood next to him and watched as the crime fighting duo fought.

“He’s so cool” he mumbled under his breath. “Yeah, but Khaos is ten times cooler,” Y/N stated matter of factually.

“Obviously,” he said with a playful tone, “she’s a total badass.” Y/N was beaming when she heard this. The boy who she has liked since freshmen year thought she was a badass. Or, well, her alter ego. But nonetheless, she would take that as a win.

What Y/N missed was the longing look in Peter’s eyes. He just wanted Khaos to feel the same way. He had a crush on her ever since they started fighting crime together. It was nice having someone to talk to about superhero stuff. She was so understanding and caring, and she cared about this city as much as he did.

Sadly, for him, she didn’t care about him the same way he did for her.

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of first period. They all bid their farewells as Betty, Ned and Peter walked down a different hall than MJ and Y/N.

“Did you really have to trip me?” She questioned on the embarrassing encounter that happened just moments ago once she was sure Peter was out of earshot. Michelle shrugged her shoulders and they rounded the corner, “oh come on. We both know you’d do anything to fall into his arms.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed red, “I-I mean you’re not wrong.” She scratched the back of her neck, now wanting to have a different topic of discussion.

“And the Godfather? Really Y/N?” MJ judged. Y/N groaned covering her face with her hands, “I didn’t know what to say. I panicked.”

Michelle laughed lightly, “alright Khaos. Just try not to blow your cover next time.” She patted her friend’s back quickly with the sarcastic retort, Y/N rolling her eyes.

On the other side of the school, after Ned walked Betty to class, with Peter third wheeling, the two began to talk about something…chaotic.

“Ned, I can’t even begin to describe her,” Peter responded after Ned questioned Khaos’s character.

“She’s just perfect. I don’t know,” he stopped himself, realizing that he sounded kind of pathetic talking about a girl who’s name he didn’t even know.

Ned was slightly confused, “so why hasn’t she told you who she is?” They walked through the door of their chemistry class, and Peter just sighed as he dropped into his seat.

“She thinks it’s unprofessional and that it’ll do more harm than good,” he ran a hand through his brown locks, before leaning his chin on his hand. “And no matter how hard I try,” he continued, “She won’t tell me anything about her! She’s like-like a closed book.” He couldn’t think of the proper words, but he knew it’d get the point across.

Ned nodded his head understandingly as the bell rang yet again, causing a good portion of the class to quiet down.

After many tedious hours, school was finally over meaning one thing in Y/N’s mind; time to punch assholes. She made sure to get home as soon as possible to switch into her suit. Once she did, she, gracefully, jumped out the window and flew straight to 43rd street, to her and Spider-Man’s meeting point.

She landed on the top of the building, already seeing the blue and red suit. He was sat on the edge of the building, a pizza box on his lap with a few slices already gone. “Hey Spider,” Y/N, or Khaos, greeted, sitting right next to her fellow hero.

He looked up and nodded his head as a hello, with his mouth was full of pizza. “You wanna piece?” He asked, his mouth full of the cheesy treat. Y/N chuckled, “yes please.”

She grabbed a piece and started munching on the New York staple. “Any plans for today?” She asked before taking another bite. Spider-Man shook his head, “nah, just good ole classic crime fighting.”

“Ah, I love good ole classic crime fighting,” she stated over dramatically causing Spider-Man to laugh. She is amazing. His laughter died down and he just looked at her, through his mask, with an admirable look in his eyes.

It took Khaos a second to notice, “what?” Her voice was soft but was still able to be heard over the loud New York traffic.

He wanted to scream ‘you’re by far the best person in the world, please date me’ but decided against it. “Nothing,” he muttered, going back to enjoying the pizza before him.

“So, how was your day?” He asked, dragging out the final word. Khaos huffed, shaking her head as she finished the slice of the pizza.

“Remember that guy I told you I had a crush on?” She asked and he nodded. He was always so adamant to hear her stories. He liked hearing them because it was the least bit of info, he got from her.

“Well,” she cleared her throat, “I made an absolute fool of myself in front of him.” She groaned leaning her head on his shoulder for a second, recounting the beginning of the school day.

“And he brushed off my idiocy like it was nothing, so I’m gonna take that as a good sign,” she chuckled at herself. Spider-Man laughed too, wiping his gloved hands on the side of his suit.

“You want the last piece?” Spider-Man asked, holding the box so that she could grab it. She eagerly grabbed the food; her hunger soon satiated.

He momentarily left to throw the box away. “Best pizza in the city,” he complimented as he came back empty handed.

“Indeed,” Khaos stated goofily, finishing off the pizza and standing up next to her friend.

“What was you’re day like Mr. Man?” She asked, mocking the tone of reporters while pretending to hold a fake microphone in front of him.

He cleared his throat, “well, as you know, high school is a bummer.” His voice sounded comical, almost like a man from the fifties.

She nodded in agreement, giggling slightly at the current interaction. “Painstakingly long for who knows what? Teenagers don’t deserve this!”

His mockery tone got louder as the gag between the two proceeded. Khaos laughed louder at his newfound ‘anger’.

“Alright, alright easy there Jameson,” she retorted, noting the hero’s fake anger as one similar to the Spider-Man hating reporter. He let out a sigh, “can’t help it. High school certainly is a menace.”

Khaos smiled, shaking her head and looking at her lap. The pair looked up quickly at the sound of sirens. Spider-Man hopped up onto the ledge, now standing.

“Well,” he held out a hand for Khaos to take, “duty calls, love.” She took his hand, pulling herself up from her seated position. He jumped off the building quickly after, swinging through the buildings. Khaos followed hot on his tail, only flying instead.

Their night proceeded with fighting bad guys and helping drunk people get home safely. They both knew that this is what they loved doing, despite the fact that the pair always ended up in bruises, they knew they had to protect the people of this city. Cause at this point no one else could. And respectfully, being Spider-Man and Khaos was something neither of them would ever give up.

So, the next day during lunch, Y/N approached her group of friends at the usual table they sat at. When she appeared, they abruptly ended their conversation, awkwardly trying to pretend that they weren’t just being secretive. “Sorry I’m late guys. Had to talk to my math teacher,” she explained, taking a seat next to MJ and across from Ned.

With a raised brow, she questioned their odd behavior. “What’s up with you guys?” The three of her friends looked between each other mysteriously.

“Um we were just talking about Betty,” MJ saved, diverting Y/N’s attention to Ned’s absent girlfriend.

“Oh,” she acknowledged, “is she okay?” Ned was joyous at her concern and with a small smile he responded, “yeah she’s really sick, but she’s gonna be fine.”

Y/N nodded, taking a bite of her lunch. “Hey Ned, I completely forgot,” MJ’s voice overdramatic, obviously hinting at something, “I have something to do over…there.” She directed towards the back end of the cafeteria at nothing in particular.

Ned caught on, as well as Peter and Y/N but the two of them stayed silent. “Oh, yeah sure.”

Michelle and Ned stood up and walked across the cafeteria. “You gonna tell me what that was about, Pete?” She questioned with a quirked brow.

He sighed, brushing his hands off and leaning his elbows on the table. “S-So they’re trying to convince me to ask this girl out,” he explained, not noticing the small frown forming on Y/N’s lips. She constantly heard about him gushing over some mystery girl, but she never knew who it was.

Y/N nodded her head slowly as Peter continued, “and-and, oh God this is stupid.” He rubbed his hands over his face letting out a sigh.

“Do you wanna go to dinner with me tonight?” His voice was soft, and extremely kind. Her eyes widened and she was stunned. “W-What?” She whispered, leaning in as if she misheard him. He smiled at her action, “I just… I don’t know. It’d be nice to get to know you better. We’ve been friends for so long, but I feel like I don’t really know you.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

Y/N was still in shock, with raised eyebrows. Peter chuckled, now filled with anxiety, “what do you say?” She felt like this was all a dream. In what world would this ever happen?

She nodded her head, a lovely smile gracing her lips, “I’d love too.” Peter mimicked her smile, “that’s great! Send me your address and I’ll meet you there at seven thirty?”

Y/N was at a loss for words. The boy she had a huge crush on actually wanted to go out with her. “Yeah that sounds good,” she replied, grabbing her phone and going to his contact to send the message.

As if on cue, Michelle and Ned came back to the table. “Hey guys, sorry for that… kerfuffle,” Ned greeted as he took his seat next to Peter. MJ shrugged, “sorry Ned. I just really needed help...over there. As far away from this table as possible for roughly five minutes.”

Peter and Y/N shared a suspicious glance, both knowing the real reason why they left. “Yeah obviously,” Peter sarcastically retorted, going back to eating his meal.

The rest of the day pursued, and Y/N had a hard time focusing. She had a date with the Peter Parker for crying out loud. The boy she had a crush on for what felt like forever.

So, when the bell rang, she practically bolted out of the school, trying to finish the day as fast as possible. When she was certain she was in a safe ally way, she pulled out her suit and admired it. “God, I love this,” she whispered, quickly changing into the suit.

Grabbing the mask, she flew up and simultaneously put the black disguise on her face. She met up with Spider-Man soon after. “Glad you can make it Khaos,” he said sarcastically, but not with anger, with a playful tone.

“Ah well you know. Had to take my sweet time putting on the suit.” She dramatically retorted, twirling around to emphasize the suit while still in the air.

“And you look as gorgeous as ever,” he theatrically stated, directing his hands toward her to ‘point out’ her beauty. She chuckled at his dramatic flair.

“Come on, what law-breaking citizens do you got for me today Spider-Man?” She asked, finally landing in front of him on the roof top.

He gave her a rundown of the crimes in the city, since he had intercepted police radio stations months ago for this exact reason. So, for hours after this, the pair went around the city, helping people, punching bad guys, the standard superhero 101.

It wasn’t overly unbearable today, so it made the day kind of fun for the both of them. Patrolling was typically like that, though.

“Well, hate to break it to you Spidey, but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to cut today’s rendezvous short,” she confessed after hours of crime fighting.

He snorted, “why? You gotta hot date or something?”

She shrugged her shoulders with a smirk, “maybe I do.” Khaos shot back, walking closer to the ledge. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Spider,” she jumped off the building and from the place he was standing, Spider-Man stared in awe as she flew away.

Since Y/N got a little sidetracked, she got back to her apartment at seven seventeen. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she mumbled as she quickly tried to get ready. At seven forty, she heard her doorbell ring through the house. She squealed, practically running to the door.

Fixing her hair, she slowly opened the door. A smile appeared on her face as she saw Peter Parker look up at her. “Hey,” he greeted with a blush.

“Hi, Pete,” she awkwardly replied, holding onto the door handle still. “Oh, I got you something,” he said swinging his backpack in front of him. He unzipped the bag, pulling out a bit of unkempt flowers.

“They, uh, they kinda got disheveled,” he pointed out, embarrassed by the state of his small gift to her.

“I mean, I think they’re alright,” she giggled, and he blushed like crazy. It was cute. He handed her the flowers and she went to put them in a vase. “You can come in Peter, I’ll just be a sec,” she shouted from some random place in the apartment as she searched for a vase.

Peter walked in, still awkward, while pretending to go on his phone. Y/N came back, the vase with flowers now perched on a table. They soon left, walking to the restaurant that was roughly twenty minutes away. They had the typical random small talk ‘oh how is your day?’ or ‘how’s school been?’

But at the restaurant, which was nothing fancy other than being on the rooftop of one of New York’s tall buildings, it got more personal. He opened up about when he lost his Uncle and how he was an orphan most of his life. Y/N talked about her personal life, excluding Khaos. And it was nice, the date was going well, and the sun was already gone.

Their meals have been done and eaten, but their night continued. “Man, I really miss the stars,” she mentioned as she looked up at the dark, starless sky. Peter’s eyes went wide as he diverted his gaze from the stars to her, “what did you just say?” He couldn’t believe what he just heard. She sounded just like Kha-

His thoughts were interrupted as gunshots were heard. They shared worried looks with one another. Everyone on the rooftop ran inside as quick as they could while Y/N and Peter ran to the ledge of the building to see what happened, Peter grabbing his backpack beforehand.

There was a group of armed robbers, maybe a gang but who could tell, at the jewelry store across the street. “Peter, I think you should go,” she mumbled, trying to gently push Peter towards the door to go inside the building. He looked at her as if she were crazy. “No, Y/N I’m not leaving you. Let’s just both go inside. Khaos or someone will show up any second.”

“Peter,” she started, her eyes going soft, but he interrupted her. “I’m not leaving,” his eyes filled with this desire that she couldn’t explain, so she stopped her protest.

“Do you trust me?” She asked out of nowhere. Peter nodded his head as she stood on top of the ledge, “come on then.” She stretched her hand out for him to take and he looked skeptical.

“What are you waiting for?” She queried, shaking her hand slightly as an indicator for him to grab it, as time was sort of running out. He took her hand in his, climbing on the ledge with ease.

“You ready?” She questioned, preparing herself more than him. Peter raised a brow, “ready for wh-“

Before he could finish, she jumped off the building, dragging the boy with her. At the exact same time she flew up.

“Holy shit,” he shouted when they soared through the sky, and Y/N turned to look in his eyes. There wasn’t a trace of fear in his chocolate orbs, just pure fascination and wonder which slightly confused Y/N as most people she saved were afraid of the distance between them and the ground. That look though, it made her smile. She wrapped her arm around his waist to hold him properly, and he did the same.

She landed in a nearby ally way and brushed herself off. “Y-You’re Khaos?!” Peter questioned with a mix of wonder and surprise. Y/N unzipped her jacket revealing the iconic white body suit she always wore, gloveless of course due to her power. Out of her pants pocket, she pulled out her mask, the sleek blackness of it shining in the streetlights.

“Y-Yeah. Only you and MJ know so please don’t tell,” she pleaded, taking off the pants she wore to expose the rest of the suit. “We can talk about this when I get back.” She recklessly threw her pants onto the ground.

“Dude this is insane. I-I can’t believe that it’s you. I have the biggest crush on Khaos,” he rambled on as Y/N put on her mask, becoming the hero most of New York loved.

She tilted her head a little, out of curiosity and teasingly asked, “how can you have a crush on a superhero you’ve never met?” She waited for a response, but he took too long. As she walked away, he shouted, “wait! Y/N wait!” He ran in front of her, his back facing the direction that leads to the alley’s exit.

“Peter, I’m kinda in a hurry,” she said impatiently, but with kindness. He shook his head, “no, you don’t get it, I-“

Cutting himself off, he held his hands up in a way to sort of push her from leaving, but without touching her.

“I don’t know how to say this,” he rushed, looking a round as he tried to gather his thoughts. Y/N sighed, “spit it out Pete.” He looked up into her eyes, and without saying anything he pulled his backpack off his shoulders, to unzip it.

“What are you doing?” He didn’t respond, only showing her the contents of the backpack. The Spider-Man suit just laying there. Y/N’s jaw dropped, searching his eyes as a bit of a confirmation.

“I’ll catch up with you,” he expressed softly, going deeper into the ally to quickly change and leaving Y/N stunned. She jumped into the air to go and fight the robbers.

As she got to the jewelry store, she saw the store clerk being threatened by the gunmen. “Come on, why do you guys always use guns? It gets really annoying,” Khaos mocked, using her telekinetic powers to rip the gun out of his hands.

She closed her eyes for a second, focusing on the power manifesting in her hands. As she opened her eyes, she mentally pushed the robbers onto a nearby wall, focusing on keeping them there. She noticed as she did this, a few glass cases broke before her.

“Sorry,” she apologized to the store clerk with a weak smile, who’s eyes were too wide with shock to even notice the damage. Just then, Spider-Man swung through the glass window, which was shot out by the robbers.

He webbed each of the men to the wall as they groaned and thrashed in frustration. Almost systematically, the police cars pulled up in front of the store, as Khaos and Spider-Man scurried from them.

They soared through the air, going to their building on 43rd, which wasn’t that far. She landed there first, taking off the black mask to reveal her face. As soon as Peter got there, he did the same, his hair bouncing as the mask came off.

“Oh my God,” Y/N gasped out of breath, covering her mouth with her hands from astonishment. The shock hit her as she saw the boy she was crushing on clad in her superhero friend’s suit. His muscles looked more defined in the tight spandex, and she couldn’t help herself from admiring him.

“T-This is unreal,” he mumbled nervously, brushing a gloved hand through his dark brown hair. “Part of the reason why I asked you out was because MJ and Ned wanted me to get over Khaos, and-and,” he rushed, but ended up not knowing what to say. “Well to get over ‘Khaos’ “he spoke, air quotes around her alter ego.

Y/N groaned, hitting on the ledge of the building, with her feet still touching the roof. “Does MJ know?” She asked, now looking up at him. He nodded his head and went to sit next to her.

She scoffed, “she knew I had a crush on you. Peter you. Is that what you guys were talking about at lunch? Why they left?” Peter looked down at his mask as he ran his fingers over it, “yeah. That’s why she was so adamant on getting me to ask you out.”

They both sat in silence for a minute before Y/N burst out laughing. “This is fucking insane. In what world would this happen? You had a crush on Khaos.” She couldn’t believe the likelihood of this.

“And you had a crush on Peter Parker,” he continued, looking up to meet her gaze. “If Khaos had to be anyone, I’m so glad that it was you,” he said softly, nudging her side.

Y/N hummed softly, “right back at you, Peter Parker.” As he looked into her eyes, he was entranced by the softness of her eyes.

He leaned in a bit closer, wanting to be as close to her as possible at this point. “I’ve liked you for so long Pete,” she murmured, leaning in closer to him as well.

With his empty hand, he brought it up to cup her cheek, watching her close her eyes in content. She let in a slow breath, enjoying the moment as best as she could.

“Can I kiss you,” he bit his lip as nervousness filled his body, “please?” She opened her eyes, nodding her head, “kiss me, Spider-Man.”

His lips crashed into hers, the nervousness turning into warmth as she kissed him back. He brought his other hand up to cup her cheek, still holding the mask. Y/N moved her hands to grip his biceps

His heart pounded in his chest as she moved from her spot and onto his thighs. Her hands now gripped his cheeks as his own held her waist.

He pulled away breathless, his lips swollen, and cheeks red. Y/N’s features mimicked his, and to him she looked absolutely perfect. “So” Peter dragged on, “I’m gonna assume you wanna date me?”

Y/N chuckled, gently playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, “I don’t know maybe.” She teased playfully. She leaned in, to get one last kiss, but froze at the sound of sirens.

She whined, dropping her head onto Peter’s chest. “Why do we always get interrupted by sirens and gunshots?” Peter chuckled at her comment, lifting her from his lap to stand properly.

He smiled as she put her mask on, doing the same with his own.

As usual, they fought crime together. But this time it felt different. The bond between them felt stronger as they both now had full trust and honesty with each other.

If was well into the night, a little bit passed one am when they decided to go back to the infamous building on 43rd. It was around the time when they would typically part ways, but they wanted to continue their earlier engagement, even if it was only for a few minutes.

“Peter,” she spoke in between kisses. “I gotta,” another peck, “go,” with another peck, “go home.”

He caught her lips with his again, holding the kiss out a little longer than before. He pulled away, kissing down her neck. “Pet-“ she whispered, tugging his hair softly.

“Just a few more minutes,” he mumbled against her neck, undoubtfully leaving marks. Y/N let out a breath, “there’s a math test tomorrow, I gotta study.”

He pulled away, eyes slightly bulging from his head, “there’s a math test?!” His worried exclamation made Y/N laugh, “yeah, where have you been, Pete. Mr. Hunter has been saying this all week.”

He groaned, “but I don’t want you to leave. I finally got you.” That small display of affection melted her heart. “Trust me, I know the feeling,” she kindly said, understanding the situation and playing with his hair, “but we still have school.”

Peter closed, letting out a deep sigh, “okay.” He dragged out the ‘y’ playfully while it simultaneously held a small hint of disappointment.

She stood up, getting off his lap for the second time that night as she levitated in the air. “Pick me up before school Spider?” Y/N asked as she put the mask on. He smiled as he looked up at her, “you know it darling.”

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nightowlfandom · 5 years

Text

Jungkook- Shameless Tease

REQUEST FROM PROMPT LIST- RIGHT HERE!! (Psstt I also write for anime too wink wink)

I like this request mostly because of the ‘uwu’ teehee. So lemme say I have an older brother so this is super awkward, so i’m sorry if this this doesn’t seem as good because I actually despise all of my brothers friends, but I won’t let that affect my writing i promise..

11- Do you not know what the word ‘mine’ means

21- Can’t you see that I...I..forget it

23- It was foolish of me to ever think you could want a relationship with me...forget it

32- Shhh, wouldn’t want the boys to hear us now would we?

70- You want me to name all the reason I love you? We’d be here forever.

Leggo!

Y/B/N= Your brothers name obviously.

...

You were excited! Your older brother was coming back from university! Six months without your hero there with you.

You had made all his favorite snacks and all his favorite foods. Your mom had told you to send her love from her. (She was on a business trip in Italy.)

“Hello!!!? Anybody home?!” You heard from the kitchen.

“Y/B/N!!” You yelled. You ran into the living room and now saw your big brother who now had dyed red hair and an eyebrow piercing. You ran into your brothers arms only to be lifted up and spun around.

“Is it me or did you get taller? You aren’t the same short geek I remember.” he joked.

“Stop it!” you poked his shoulder. “I missed you bro.” you hugged him again.

“I missed you too kiddo.”he chuckled.

“I’m not that younger than you!” you whined.

‘I’m a senior in college, I automatically have the right to call you a child no matter how old you are.”

“Whatever.” you waved him off.

“Wow, talk about a reunion.” another voice had interrupted you. “Hey Y/N.”

You felt your face heat up violently, you could only hope Jungkook didn’t see it. He smirked as he threw Y/B/N’s suitcase down along with a duffel bag which you assumed was his.

“Hm, you’re not the same cute little kid I met all those years ago.” he smirked.

“Uh..Hi J-jungkook.” you said shyly. You may or may not have had a crush on Jungkook since you graduated high school. You weren’t sure if he knew or not but you weren’t subtle about it either.

“Hope you don’t mind, kid. Jungkook is crashing here.”

“No, it’s fine.” you assured. “I guess.” you looked down.

“Something smells great.” your brother broke the tension which made you smile.

“Yeah! I made a lot of food!” you smiled, getting a little happy.

“Please tell me there’s spicy noodles involved.” he mumbled.

“Of course! It’s our thing!”

You and your brother had an obsession with trying different types of noodles, so when you found a recipe for super spicy noodles, you knew it would be perfect.

“I’m gonna go get the rest of my shit out the car, I have loads of stories to tell you kid.” your brother messed up your hair hair with his hand before bolting out the house. You were now left alone with Jungkook.

“You really did grow up.” he chuckled, which made you almost choke on...well oxygen. “You’re not that cute little kid anymore.”

“Y-yeah...I’ve blossomed!” you shrugged. Jungkook raised an eyebrow, looking slightly amused. “That sounded wrong!” you suddenly corrected yourself. “I didn’t mean it that way.” Great now you sounded like you were talking about lady bits

Jungkook chuckled at your attempts to try and fix what you said. You were so cute trying to cover up your words. He thought you little crush on his was adorable and frankly, it only made him want to protect you more from other shitheads. He even had a mind to say he liked you himself, only your brother would kill him on the spot.

...

Later on, you were clutching your sides when your brother had told you his other friend, Baekhyun had did a streak across the college campus.

“He didn’t get expelled?!?!” you asked in disbelief, trying to contain yourself.

“No! He didn’t even get caught!”

“No wa-” you were cut off by the door bell ringing. “...I wasn’t expecting anyone else.”

“That would be me. Hope you don’t mind kid, I invited some friends.” you bro nudged you. “I know you wanted to spend some time with me today but they insisted we hang out.”

“It’s okay.” you shook your head. “We still got a whole lot of time together.”

Jungkook got the door and two model-esque girls strode in.

“Y/B/N is this her?!?!” A girl in a rose pink skirt and white shirt. “She’s so adorable!” she ran over. “I’m Vera! Your brother had told me so many amazing things about you.”

“Hi Vera!” You were shocked. “My brother didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend.” you looked at your brother who was blushing deeply. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’ve been waiting to meet you for so long, I wanted to get you a gift but this one over here-” she pointed to the girl standing by the door. “She was way too impatient so..I’ll just have to take you shopping! My treat!” she gave you a hug, which took you by surprise.

“I like her.” you mouthed to your bro who mouthed back. “I like her too.”

You saw Jungkook walk over to the other girl who looked less than happy to be there. She begrudgingly walked over and crossed her arms. You were about to sit back down when she had made a beeline for your seat.

“...Oh..I’m sorry were you sitting here?” she raised an eyebrow looking up.

“Lina, you saw Y/N about to sit there.” Jungkook sent a glance towards the girl.

“Oh, don’t worry...I can sit somewhere else.” you shook your head.

“The it’s settled! So..you’re Y/B/N’s kid sister?” she looked you up and down.

“I wouldn’t say I’m a kid, but yeah...I am his sister.” you looked down at your toes. “Lina was it?” you remembered Jungkook had said her name. “I’m Y/N...nice to meet you.” you trailed off.

“Hm, Jungkook was right. You are weirdly adorable in a geeky type of way.”

Jungkook called you adorable...woah. “Really?” you asked taken aback.

“Yeah, he also said that he spends a lot of time around you.”

“Oh don’t worry about me.” you shook your head. “No really you shouldn’t.”

“Yeah don’t worry Lina, Y/N here is practically harmless.” Jungkook began. “Nothing more than a shameless schoolgirl crush, she can’t help that she’s like my biggest fan.” Jungkook pat the top of your head.

“What?” you said, your jaw and heart dropping.

“Yeah, she can’t stop thinking about me.” he laughed, which made your heart sink even more. “It’s cute how she thinks I don’t notice.”

“Lhm...well she’s sure not gonna get your attention dressing like a 4th grader.” she chuckled, crossing her arms. “I don’t think Jungkook likes girls who wear Attack On Titan T-shirts and who still use bendy straws.”

“Lina that’s enough.” your brother warned. “Vera convinced me to let you tag along but that doesn’t mean i can’t kick you out.”

Silence...that’s all that rang throughout the room.

You looked at your brother, your hands shaking. You stared at Jungkook, betrayed evident in your eyes.

“Um...Y/B/N...I’m kinda tired...I think I’m gonna turn in early.” you looked down at your toes. Who cared that it wasn’t even dark out yet, you just had to get out of there.

“Hey, Y/N I was only kidd-” Jungkook held out his hands but before he could say anything else, you had run off up the stairs. You ran into your room and slammed the door, sliding down the door. You buried your head in your hands and cried silently.

How embarrassing, How humiliating, how...ugh

...

It was now midnight and you hadn’t left your room, instead you opted for crying into your teddy bear and watching anime. You felt embarrassed, humiliated, another word to describe how you never wanted to show your face towards Jungkook again.

There was a quiet knock on your door, and instead of pretending to be asleep, you figured you’d open it. Maybe it was your brother.

You didn’t expect to see Jungkook standing in front of you,

“Nice pajamas.” he chuckled. Jungkook wore low hanging sweats and no shirt, It was sort of hard not to stare.

You looked down at your pink shorts with bunnies all over them and black tank top with another bunny on the front holding a cupcake. You thought it was pretty cute. Jungkook was chuckling.

“What do you want?” you crossed your arms, hugging your teddy bear plushie closer to your chest.

“Can I come in? I don’t feel like standing in the hall.”

You hesitated but eventually let him walk into your bedroom and close the door. You walked over and sat on your bed, Jungkook following in pursuit.

“I came to apologize for making fun of you earlier.” he sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“Whatever.” you said coldly. “Is that all?” You were genuinely hurt by what he said, especially after that stupid bitch of a ‘girlfriend’ of his disrespected you in your own house. If it weren’t for your brother stepping in and telling her to know her place, you probably would have been ridiculed more.

“Y/N...” he sighed. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Do you?!?!” you stood up. “Oh I’m just Y/B/N’s nerdy little sister, I’m just your little follower, your little fan. Don’t mind me!” you shot, fighting back the tears threatening to fall. “How dare you look at me and think I wasn’t going to be upset by what you said!”you hugged your plushie tighter, almost wanting to cry and scream at him to get out. “Get out...” you said.

“What?” he looked taken aback.

“You fucking heard me.” you snapped. “Get out of my way, Get Out Of My Room, GET OUT OF MY LIFE YOU-” you almost screamed.

You were cut off by Jungkook kissing you. Not a peck on the forehead or the cheek. He had held both your cheeks in his hands and slowly moved his lips against yours, causing your eyes to widen in shock. You knew part of the reason was to stop you from screaming even louder, but still.

“You’re so innocent Y/N...” he chuckled, almost pulling away from you.

“...and that’s exactly the issue.” you spat, turning away from him. “Y/N the innocent little child-like emotional little sister that you love to tease and make fun of. I’m not that younger than you Jungkook!” you crossed your arms. “I’m not gonna be your little teasing monkey anymore either.” No matter how much you wanted him to kiss you again...

It was foolish of you to think that Jungkook could ever want a relationship with you...”Forget it.” You finally said. “Just go-”

“Are you going to let me have a chance to talk now?” he raised an eyebrow at you. “Before Lina cut me off, I was gonna say something else.” he sighed.

“huh?”

“I was going to say after I said that it was cute how you think I don’t notice, that it was also cute how you don’t know that I have some feelings of my own.” he chuckled.

“I’m sorry what?” you raised an eyebrow. “I’m confused.”

“Hm...then how about this. Do you not know what the word ‘mine” means?” he asked, smirking down at you. “Can’t you see that I...Hm..Forget it. I’ll show you instead of telling you.” He smirked again.

Jungkook leaned down and kissed you again, this time causing you to drop your teddy bear. Jungkook gently caressed your cheeks. He didn’t want fo force, or scare you. He had already kind of hurt your feelings earlier and didn’t want to risk anything. He had told your brother he was interested in you, which garnered multiple threats from your older sibling.

“If you hurt her I swear to god I’m gonna slam your head into the side of a fucking mountain then drop your body into shark infested waters, bro. Don’t fucking play with her feelings or you’ll regret it. We’re cool and all but I swear-.”

His exact words.

His fears were put aside when you had rested your palms over his hands. You had realized you needed to breathe and had yanked yourself away, inhaling sharply. Your first kiss with Jungkook wasn’t exactly how you imagined, actually you never really imagined a kiss with Jungkook...Until now!

“Hm, Breathe. Y/N...” he chuckled. He leaned down and kissed your against, this time wrapping his arms around your waist. Shyly, you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were hoisted off the ground and carried to your bed. Jungkook threw you on the bed and crawled over you. Your eyes studied his shirtless body. His body was incredible.

“I know you didn’t picture our first time in the middle of the night in your bedroom, but I can’t wait anymore...can you?.”

Fuck no, you’d been waiting for this forever. As long as no one walked in, you didn’t care.

“I don’t have a condom yet...so we can’t do much.” he kissed you again, which made you smile shyly. Such a gentleman. “Plus your my best friend’s little sister, I want to take you somewhere special before we worry about doing that.” he trailed his fingers down your spine. “But I also want to make you feel good Y/N.” he bit his lip.

“U-uh...I’ve never really...done anything with another guy before...mostly by myself if I’m honest.”

You stopped yourself from speaking...you just confessed to masturbating to possibly the love of your life...real smooth Y/N.

Jungkook look surprised. “Damn...I didn’t know you were such a wild girl.” he chuckled. “Do I have permission to go further?” he asked, his face becoming serious. “I need a verbal answer.”

“Y-yes.” you trailed off. Jungkook hovered over you. Even in the dark you could see and admire his pale face. You had no time to register Jungkook pulling at the hem of your cute bunny shorts, taking your panties with them, which surprisingly had no bunnies on them. Well at least to his surprise. He didn’t coin you as the type to wear thongs at all but it was a pleasant surprise.

You squeezed your thighs together, trying to stop the weird feeling from building up even more, even thought it was futile. Jungkook would make sure you were a panting mess.

Teasingly, Jungkook brushed your slit. The pads of his fingers pressing down on your clit. The sudden feeling caused you to squeak out loud, making Jungkook laugh.

“Shh, wouldn’t want anyone to hear us now would we?” he cooed, pecking your lips again. “I wonder how you would react if...” he began rubbing your clitt faster, pressing down harder on the sensitive nub. “Listen to that sound.” he bit his lip, mentioning to squelching water sound that arose from you getting more and more turned on by the minute. “It’s so messy and wet down there Y/N.” he teased. “I love making you feel this way.” he expressed. “I love that face you make.” he mumbled again. “I love that you’re all mine, and no one else can steal you away from me.” he said, speeding up his fingers even more. “I would name all the other things I love about you...but we’d be here until the end of time, Y/N.”

Your arms, wrap around his neck kept you two close together. Despite it being cold in your room, you both were sweaty and trying to stay quiet. Mainly you. Jungkook grew impatient, he loved making you squirm and mewl for him, but he wanted to hear you say his name, moan his name, release for him.

Jungkook flipped you on your back, hovering over you again. With a silent laugh and a wink, he crawled down to where he was at eye level with your heat.

“Keep quiet Y/N.” he kissed up your slit. “Though I’m sure it’ll be hard.” he delved his tongue between your folds. “Hm, as a matter of fact...maybe I’ll enjoy this more than you do.” His lips stuck to your clit, making an exaggerated sucking sound that caused your back to arch (also quite exaggeratedly).

Jungkook held your thighs down, stopping you from moving around too much. You could only hyperventilate as his tongue lashed at your flesh. You knew if you made one loud sound, you’d be in trouble.

It felt like a ton of bricks, crashing down on you. Jungkook muffled his moans of gratitude, mostly with groans and praise through kissing up the length of your body.

“...You have to go back into the living room. If Y/B/N sees you in here-” you began to say

“I don’t care...I want you to be the first person I see when we wake up. Even if i have to sneak out.” he held you closer to him. “...and I’m taking you out tomorrow.” he mumbled, burying his head into your neck. You couldn’t answer because you had already felt yourself dozing off. “I don’t care fi your brother kicks my ass.”

You couldn’t want...for the date that is...

(This is very different than how I usually write, but I really wanted to capture the idea that Jungkook still cares about and respects you even as your bro’s little sis and wouldn’t do anything that could cause discomfort or scares despite being his flirty self. Bro I swear writing sex scenes makes me cringe into myself lol, but I do it for you guys.)

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

A Moment of Weakness

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (hey ily)

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: PG-13 [ fluff + enemies to lovers!AU + Hogwarts!AU ]

Word Count: 2,557

Summary: A series of drabbles about Slytherin!Jimin and Hufflepuff!Y/N, the sister of his self-declared mortal enemy.

A/N: These drabbles are non-sequential.

It has been several weeks since the Yule Ball.

After your confrontation with Jimin, you did not stay at the party for long. Taehyung realized something was off as soon as you returned to him; although to be fair, it would have been hard not to notice. There was obviously something on your mind and that something was clearly not Taehyung. He was sweet about it, even if you did not feel you deserved it.

He laughed when you said as much to him. “Y/N,” he grinned, pulling you into a hug. This was while you were still at the ball and you stiffened, unsure who else had seen. “I didn’t ask you here to get lucky, or anything. I asked you here because I thought it would be fun, okay?”

“Yeah,” you sniffed, pulling away. “Okay.”

Taehyung shrugged. “I’d like to be friends, if you do.”

You did, and you said this to him, but you knew Taehyung was disappointed – no matter how well he hid it. There were reasons he asked you to the dance and you knew those reasons were not entirely platonic. The thought made your heart hurt, but not as much as those three tiny words from Park Jimin’s lips. I don’t care.

Ironic, that it took Jimin telling you he did not care for you to admit that you did. Because you do; you care for Jimin. Fuck, it would be impossible not to. Maybe you did not at first. Maybe you did not when this all began and maybe you didn’t even somewhere in the middle. Except – maybe even that is a lie.

In your first year at Hogwarts, you remember feeling lost. Lucas and you had been close growing up, but a twelve-year-old boy wants little to do with his eleven-year-old sister. Before you made friends in Hufflepuff, you were lonely – plain and simple.

Even then, you remember Jimin. Your brother hated him for reasons which were never fully revealed to you. There were rumors of a girl they both liked, Jimin hexing Lucas once on a dare, Lucas beating Jimin the first Quidditch game they played. You did not know what the true reason was – only that it existed, and that the only time Lucas ever spoke to you was to shield you from Jimin.

Whenever you found yourself near the blonde Slytherin boy, Lucas would barrel out of nowhere and frantically shoo you away. It was uncanny, as though he had a sixth sense for your proximity. You never understood why, even back then. Jimin seemed harmless enough. Indeed, you saw much of yourself in the quiet, Slytherin boy.

As time passed and the years went on, Jimin ceased to be lonely and so did you. Instead, he became insufferable, just as he was to Lucas – always hanging around you, smirking and teasing with a big grin on his face. Despite this, you never hated him. Jimin was never malicious in his presence, never mean and in your mind, you always saw him as that quiet, smaller boy your brother liked to pick on.

This was around the time Lucas stopped being a jackass. He hung out with you more, welcomed you into his friend group. You found your own friends in Hufflepuff and stopped paying attention to Jimin. Indeed, you nearly forgot all about him – until that day on the lawn with the Novifusilli spell.

With a deep sort of sigh, you lower your chin to your hands to stare at the door. The toilet you sit upon is dark, far removed from the main hall – which is why you chose this particular location. You do not need to use the bathroom, just need a space to breathe and reflect before joining the others for lunch.

Since the Yule Ball, you have not been able to stop thinking about Jimin. Little memories keep coming back to you, unbidden and it is becoming harder and harder to deny what you had.

You keep remembering random moments. The day Jimin helped you to ride a broomstick for the first time. The night he taught you forbidden spells in the back of the library – you accidentally punched him in the nose with an overeager flick of your wand and, rather than fume, Jimin cracked up to tackle you down to the floor. He kissed you like that, pinning your hands overhead and you were half-laughing, half-moaning when he thrust deeply inside you.

Hissing, you squeeze your eyes shut and attempt to dislodge the memory. It is hopeless to think about because, even if it weren’t for Lucas, you still royally fucked up. You were the one who told Jimin what you were, over and over again. You were the one who pushed him away, told him it was just sex and when he walked away from you at the ball, you felt it was for good.

Biting down on your lip, you try not to cry – as the bathroom door slams open, hitting the wall. You jerk upright, drawing your legs closer and wishing you could melt into the floor. Fuck, how embarrassing would it be to be caught crying in the stall.

“Honestly!” a shrill voice laughs. You recognize it to be Susie Larkin, a Gryffindor you cannot stand. “What do they all see in her, anyways? For the life of me, I’ll never understand how she got Taehyung to take her to the Yule Ball.”

Stomach sinking like lead, you realize she is talking about you. Sitting up straighter, you stare at the door.

“Do you really not know, Suze?” teases an unfamiliar voice. Probably one of Susie’s friends. “It rhymes with snow job. I hear Y/N gives out a lot of them.”

Susie cracks up, snorting in between laughs while your cheeks start to burn.

“Oh, sure,” Susie gasps. You hear the clatter of makeup dropped on the counter. “Honestly, was Jimin not enough for her? Weren’t they fucking?”

“Were they?” the other girl muses. “Seriuosly, I can’t keep track.”

“I think that they were,” responds Susie conspiratorially, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Molly Jordan says she saw Y/N coming out of the exact same classroom minutes after Jimin did, a few months back. It was pre-tty obvious what they were doing in there.”

“Really?” Her friend sounds shocked. “Doesn’t her brother hate Jimin, though?”

“Beats me. Girl can’t close her legs to save her life, I guess.”

At this, you stand up and bang open the door.

Susie’s mouth drops, comical in her shock. Her skin turns an ugly shade of puce, recognizing you in the mirror while her lipstick clatters into the sink. Her friend – definitely unfamiliar – stands equally startled, her mouth dropped open in a small, perfect o.

“Shut your mouth, you look like a fish,” you snap at her. Striding forward, you stop when you stand toe-to-toe against Susie. “And you,” you seethe, glowering. “Go and fuck yourself. Stop blaming me for the fact that no one else wants to!”

With a huff, you turn around and stride fast from the room. The crush of students outside is unnerving, deafening after being alone for so long. Blinking several times, you feel your eyes start to burn. Turning abruptly, you plunge into the sea of people and let yourself be pulled along. Barely do you know what you are doing, nor where your two feet are headed. All you know is that you need to be as far away from that bathroom – and Susie – as possible.

You are moving so quickly; you do not look up when you round the next corner and barrel straight into the chest of someone wearing black and green robes.

“Oof!” gasps Jimin, stumbling into you. Righting himself, he freezes in place with both hands on your arms. The two of you have not spoken since the ball. “I – hey, uh. Oh,” Jimin fumbles, squinting to get a better look at your face. “Wait. Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“I – nothing,” you breathe, moving to duck past but Jimin does not move. His grip on you tightens, forcing you to look up at his face. Now, the tears start to fall free, running down your cheeks in hot, embarrassing waves.

He takes one look and shakes his head, grabbing your wrist to tug you backwards. “Come on,” he exhales, shoving into the crowd. Jimin moves easily, glaring at anyone in his way until they back down.

You allow yourself to be pulled until you arrive at a plain, wooden door. Jimin opens this quickly, ushering you forward and you find yourself in an empty classroom, reminiscent of the ones you two used to hook up in. The thought makes your cheeks heat, remembering the words Susie said about you in the bathroom.

Before you can stop yourself, the tears are spilling over and now you are standing before Jimin, crying your eyes out. You know that you shouldn’t. He is not the comforting type and besides, you do not deserve to be comforted by him, anyways.

“Hey,” he murmurs, leaving his stance to quickly cross over the room. For a moment, Jimin hovers, uncertain before he gives in. “Come here,” Jimin exhales, taking your arms.

He pulls you foward, wrapping both arms around you as you bury your face in his chest. Breathing him in, you lose yourself in his familiar scent. It is hard to reign it in, now that you have started. You cannot help but think about how badly you needed this. Needed him.

No – what you need to do is calm down, you tell yourself. You need to stop crying.

It does not matter what someone like Susie thinks about you, after all. It matters what Jimin thinks, though. You do not want him to think about you like that – like he meant less to you than he did to you. Although, you have not even told him the truth of what he means to you.

Tightening your arms about his waist, you let Jimin hold you like that. Again, you should not – for a variety of reasons. First and foremost, is how shitty you treated Jimin at the ball. You do not deserve to be comforted by him after that. Still, Jimin’s chest is so warm, his breathing so steady that you keep trying to match his in order to calm yourself down. Jimin’s hand slides up and down your back, rubbing your body and keeping you close.

As your eyes drift shut, you allow yourself one final moment of weakness. Once the tears have stopped though, once they have all dried against the black of his robe, you pry your eyes open. Jimin does not pull away yet and so, finally, you force yourself to.

He simply looks down, assessing you. “What happened?” he asks, referring to the scene in the hall.

There is steel to his tone; it laces his words, as though the thought of someone hurting you is unpardonable. The sentiment makes your heart twist. “Nothing,” you respond, quickly extracting yourself. “I’m – I’m sorry. Nothing I can’t handle, anyways. I know you aren’t…”

Jimin arches a brow, watching you trail off into silence. “Yes?” he prompts. “I’m not what, exactly?”

Heart pounding, it echoes the pulse in your head. There is so much you should say to him, but now that you are here, all you can think about is one thing.

“What did you mean at the ball?” you blurt.

Jimin stares back at you, utterly thrown. “Huh?”

“What did you mean?” you repeat, taking a step closer. Jimin is not much taller than you are; his nose is only inches away. “At the ball – you said that if I had to ask, you didn’t care. What did you mean by that?”

Jimin stares at you for a long moment, clearly warring with some inner conflict. Eventually, a side wins out and he sighs. “I meant…” Jimin pauses, weighing his next words. “I meant that if you had to ask who should’ve taken you to the ball, I shouldn’t... care about you.”

Before you can respond, he slips his hand into yours. You glance down, staring when he raises them both to his lips. Gently, Jimin brushes a kiss to your palm. Although you have been intimate with him before, although you have been naked, moaning and felt him inside you – never have you felt more vulnerable than you do right now.

“Who,” you whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from his lips. “Who should have been the one taking me, then?”

Jimin gives a small, bitter smile. “Me.”

The word hangs between you, stark and simple – much like Jimin himself. When you first began hooking up, you remember liking that about him. You still like that about him. God, you more than like that about him and now, you are realizing it all too late.

Jimin wanted to be your date to the Yule Ball and instead, you took Taehyung. You did not even give Jimin a chance to ask you. Everything seems twenty-twenty in hindsight and now, you are all too aware of how foolish you were.

You should correct Jimin, you think. You should tell him that even if you did not ask him, you were thinking about him the whole night. That you have been thinking about him ever since but, as you move to utter the worlds, Jimin interrupts.

“I like you, Y/N,” he insists, still holding your hand. As though emboldened by this, Jimin straightens. “I know that’s not what you want. You were pretty clear about that from the start,” he observes, smiling weakly. “I’m sorry that I dragged my feelings into this. I don’t… I guess what I’m saying is I don’t think we should hook up anymore,” he finishes, firm.

The light in the classroom is dimming. Outside, the sun has just begun to set over the horizon. It casts Jimin in a radiant light; your heart aches just to look at him.

“I – you don’t?” you respond, uncertain. If Jimin does not want to see you anymore, then perhaps your original thought was right – it is too late to confess.

Jimin inhales, glancing down. “I can’t keep on pretending,” he mutters, hoarse. “I don’t want to keep on pretending. I think we should end this now. Besides,” he pauses, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “What would your brother think if he saw us, like this?”

The silence which greets him while you fumble for a response seems to be all the confirmation Jimin needs.

“You see?” he exhales, arching a brow.

“But,” you start to protest, as Jimin shakes his head.

Gently, he slides both hands up your arms. “I,” Jimin exhales, closing his eyes. “Thank you for… everything, Y/N.”

Bending forward, he kisses you. The gesture is sweet, achingly so. Barley is there time for you to wrap your mind around it before his lips part yours in the gentlest of touches. It makes your head spin, hands reaching out for his robe, but he is already withdrawing, pulling away.

Jimin stares blankly at you, chest rising and falling. He swallows hard at your expression, forcing himself to respond, “You’re okay… right?”

For a moment, you are tempted to say no. For a moment, you are tempted to ask how – without Jimin, how can you be okay? Then, you realize he means from before. Jimin is referring to the crying, sodden mess he ran into in the hallway.

“I – yeah,” you exhale, licking your lips. They remain stubbornly dry. “I’ll be fine.”

Jimin stares at you a moment longer before he nods, turning around to walk out the door.

The room feels empty, near-suffocating without him.

A/N: [ Master List ]

#bangtanarmynet #jimin writing #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts writing #jimin au #bts au #bts hogwarts au #jimin hogwarts au #jimin angst

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forkanna · 5 years

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WARNING: Very mild sexual content.

NOTE: Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this fic, please toss a little appreciation my way. Helps keep me from becoming that "starving artist" thing everyone keeps talking about! By the way, be on the lookout for a PERSONA 4 fanfic coming to this space soon! See you all!

Jessex

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"None of your business!"

Despite her protestation, Makoto couldn't seem to keep the grin off her face as she loitered around outside the haunted house ride. No matter how many times she had been badgered to enter, she had resisted; scary movies and things like that always stuck with her long after the initial "thrill", and she therefore stubbornly refused to be forced inside. The wait time had seemed best spent catching up with a friend.

"Girl, you keep ducking my questions," Eiko's voice tittered on the other end of the call. "You killed my relationship with Tsukasa, so the least you can do is let me feed off gossip!"

Smirking as she nibbled at the Jack Frost-shaped melon bread, she told her, "He was a host. You didn't have a real relationship; he was just using you for your money. Where's my 'thank you' for setting you straight?"

"I did thank you! But like, you also didn't find me a new boyfriend, either!" They both giggled for a few seconds. "So…"

"So?"

"Who are you on a date with? Still that Ren guy?"

"N-no," she said, grinning like a fool as she turned away - as if anyone were listening. They weren't. "And I never said I was on a 'date'. Stop living vicariously through me, it's not healthy."

Eiko's voice got higher and whinier. "You can't make meeee!"

"Maybe not, but there's nothing to live vicariously through. Besides, you're pretty and sweet, and funny. It won't take you that long to find someone. And in the meantime-"

"Yeah, yeah," she cut her off. "I know. I should be figuring out the rest of my life instead of just working in a maid cafe. But it is good money…"

Rolling her eyes, she hissed, "They don't have to be mutually exclusive! Just… figure it out while you work. And don't be afraid to love again."

"God… I mean, my judgment is obviously wack. You sure I shouldn't die an old maid? Pun intended."

"YES." Just then, Makoto spotted a wobbling figure and hurriedly said, "Oh, I gotta go. But I'll call you later, okay?"

"Who are you there with?! MAKO-CHAAAAN!" But she didn't answer her. Just thumbed the 'end call' button and turned back toward the incoming patient.

Sadayo Kawakami looked distinctly ill for having bragged so staunchly that she was going to be "just fine on her own" on the ride. She hung onto the railing near where Makoto had been waiting, taking a few deep breaths. "Oh… oh, I really regret that…"

"Hashtag yolo?" she asked bemusedly.

"Hash-what? Yo-low? You know I don't keep up with you kids and your silly internet lingo."

Makoto grinned wide and offered her bread to her girlfriend. After only a moment's hesitation, she took a big bite. "It's okay, doesn't really matter. Did you not enjoy yourself?"

"Well… it was fun and it wasn't, but there was a part at the end that really got me. So scary how their heads come off like that, floating all over the place!" She shivered and rubbed her arms, and they shared a little laugh. "But um… your choice of vacation spots was…"

"Was what?"

"Destinyland?! I already feel like a creep, taking a girl so much younger than me on a vacation, and you literally had me take you to a children's amusement park."

Holding up her index finger, she corrected, "It's a family theme park. Not just for kids. And I didn't make you do anything; I only suggested it because I had so much fun with my friends. Besides, you were the one who was so excited to finally take me somewhere now that I graduated."

"Yeah, yeah," she handwaved - literally waving her hand around and making Makoto giggle. "Then why didn't you invite the prosecutor if this is supposed to be for family? Hmmmm?"

"W-well, um… I think I've forced my poor sister to have to deal with my sexuality enough for one lifetime. Maybe it would be cruel to persist." Flashbacks of that ill-conceived lapdance haunted her, even now. Though she knew it was fairly harmless and she had only done it to prove a point, it was still distinctly un-familial and poor Sae had seemed a little more awkward around her ever since.

"Sure, sure. Still… I'm surprised you didn't ask your friends along. Didn't one of them get you these tickets?"

"Yes, my friend Haru. As for why they aren't with us… well, I wanted to spend a special day with my special friend. Aren't I allowed?"

Sadayo couldn't keep the huge grin from spreading. "Okay. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than glad to have my little Master all to myself. Just wondered why you chose this spot."

Instantly, Makoto's ears were turning red, and she started hiding her face behind her melon bread. "Stop that! You know it embarrasses me when you call me 'Master' - and besides, you quit that job!"

"I did," she giggled, locking arms with her. "But it's fun watching you get all ruffled about it."

"I'm not 'ruffled', I'm mortified. I do not want to be in charge of my girlfriend!"

The elder woman bit her lip and began to pet up and down Makoto's upper arm as they started strolling through the gathered crowds. Luckily, they had picked a day Destinyland was not incredibly busy, but neither was it a ghost town; too many people would have sucked all the fun out of the trip, but too few would have made their date that much more conspicuous. No matter how much they wanted to be out and proud, just enough of Japanese society still looked down upon lesbian relationships as 'immature' to make them uncomfortable; they simply didn't want a bunch of snide looks and whispering behind their backs. Maybe one day, things would be different.

"Maybe I want you to be in charge of me."

"What?! Stop saying things like that - you sound like you've been to Shinjuku."

"Nothing wrong with Shinjuku, you know; those are our people. I guess." Despite her words, now Sadayo looked a little worried.

"Oh… I know. And I've been there, and you're right; they're just people living different lives than we're used to knowing anything about. But I like figuring it out on our own."

Now Sadayo looked surprised. "You went to Shinjuku? Why?!"

Before she could answer, the conversation was suddenly shattered with an outcry of "HEY! MAKOOOTOOOO!"

At first, she felt a spike of fear that it was was Eiko, tracking her down like a bloodhound. Instead, she saw a pair of fluffy blonde pigtails bouncing over most of the heads in the crowd as they weaved toward their location.

"Ann?!"

"Hey!" the blue-eyed font of youthful excitement exclaimed as she came to a stop in front of them. "Wow, what are you guys doing here?! Are you on a date - is this a legit date?!"

"Shhh!" Miss Kawakami shushed her, cheeks rouging. "So this is the one you spilled the beans to…"

"I didn't! Well… I only told Ann so she could help me setup that nice evening we had together. Remember, your outfit? Plus she's one of my best friends, and she's also-"

"She's one of the former Thieves," she said in a much quieter voice. Makoto could see shock flicker across Ann's features but she didn't say anything right away. "Of course you trust them. I just wish you had filled me in as much as you filled her in."

Now Makoto looked just as embarrassed as she did regretful. "I… forgot?"

"A lot happened," Ann put in with a shrug, scratching the back of her neck. "So no duh you'd forget to mention it. You saw the whole thing, right, Kawakami-sensei? In Shibuya? We were fighting a literal god!"

"No, no, you misunderstand." Their teacher reached out to rest a hand on Ann's shoulder, smiling softly. "I'm not mad! Especially not about you saving us from that madman and the evil spirits pulling his strings." It seemed Kawakami had decided it was easier to think of them as 'evil spirits' being controlled by a megalomaniac than to fully absorb that the god in question had been doing its best to keep the entire population enslaved within their own complacency. Even Makoto herself wasn't sure how to feel about that, and she had a front-row seat to the near disaster. The Phantom Thieves had changed the heart of all of Japan and it barely made a difference, but at least they had hope for the future now.

Sadayo continued, pulling her from her self-reflection. "Anyway, I'll get over it. More like, I wish I knew so we could have been talking about it before now, and I could keep track of who we're 'out' to. That's all, I promise."

That made her flash one of her patented Takamaki megawatt smiles. "Really? I mean, I'm just some dumb girl in your class, you don't have to talk to me about anything."

"Ah, ah!" She held up an admonishing index finger, and both girls ducked their heads instinctively. "You're a very important person in my girlfriend's life. That trumps your grades - which really aren't that bad, all things considered. Not compared to Sakamoto-kun's."

As they shared a laugh at Ryuji's expense, another figure pushed through the crowd to their sides. "There you are! I finally got our tapioca drinks and I turned around, and you were gone! Where… did you… oh."

We were all still staring openly at the dark-haired girl as Ann smiled and took her drink, seemingly not noticing that the girl fell silent when she noticed they weren't alone. "Thanks. And I'm sorry I ran off - I didn't go that far! Just to say 'hi' to these guys."

"Suzui-san," Sadayo breathed in mild surprise. "It's… been a while. How are you?"

That higher-than-usual level of concern made sense. The last time Kawakami had seen Shiho Suzui, she had just jumped off the roof and was being escorted to the hospital in an ambulance. Now she almost looked back to her usual self, even if she seemed as sickly as she had before Coach Kamoshida's unwanted advances drove her to the suicide attempt.

"F-fine, Sensei," she answered haltingly, bowing politely. "I'm… sorry to interrupt."

"You're fine," Makoto told her warmly, keeping her smile small and polite. Trying to set her at ease.

"Yes, of course!" Sadayo joined in. "So you're here with Takamaki-san? That's good; I'm glad to see you're out and about. Really, I mean that; after that bastard… well, nevermind. Forget him."

Even while Shiho stared at the ground, starting to sink into her private pool of anxiety, Ann grabbed her by the arm and shook her just enough to jostle her out of it. "Yep! We're all about moving forward, remembering the good times and aiming for the future! Ain't that right?"

"Ann!" she whispered shyly, but at least she was starting to smile again. She had always been a bit mousy and meek around anyone who wasn't Ann; at least, Makoto had thought so.

"What? You ashamed of hanging around with the weird gaijin?"

"Don't say that, you know I'm not. I… always want to hang out with you." Then she bit her lip, looking away shyly.

And it clicked. Makoto prided herself on being able to analyse a situation, and this one was telling her something extremely specific.

"Oh." Glancing up at Ann's face, then back to Shiho's, then back to Ann's, Makoto asked, "You two are here for the same reason we are. Aren't you?" Ann bit her lip even harder and nodded - but in her case, the lip-biting was to prevent her grin from being huge enough to be visible from the International Space Station. "Wow…"

"What?" Sadayo blinked at Makoto a few times, then glanced between the other two girls. "Oh, really? Wait - that can't be true. That would be crazy!"

As Shiho started to edge behind Ann, as if she could legitimately hide there, Ann turned to whisper to her, "Wait, Shiho, you don't have to do that. These two are cool."

"Wh-what do you mean? 'Cool'? I… how do they… do they know we're…?"

"It's okay," Makoto hurried to explain, picking up Sadayo's hand and raising it as they laced their fingers together. "You don't have to hide who you are around us."

Then it finally clicked for the former volleyball star. "Oh. You two… you're lesbians?"

"I'm bisexual, I'm pretty sure," Sadayo chuckled nervously. Though the nervousness didn't make her drop Makoto's hand. "Since I used to date men and I didn't hate it that much. But those jerks had their chance; my Mako-chan takes way better care of me."

"Stop!" she hissed back at her girlfriend, and both she and Ann giggled. "But you're right, I try to."

"And you succeed." Then she turned back to Shiho. "So how long have you and Ann been… seeing each other?"

Completely red-faced, Shiho whispered, "N-not long. A few weeks."

"Ren and I took her to the roof of the school again," Ann explained as she managed to get Shiho to stand next to her again, then slid an arm around her waist. "Before he moved back home. So she could, y'know, make peace with what happened. And while we were up there, like… all the feelings came out. Things we wanted to say to each other before but couldn't, and then I wanted to while she was going through physical therapy but thought it would be too weird to do it then, and… I dunno. The time was right."

"Yeah," Shiho whispered, finally looking somewhat at peace as she wrapped both arms around Ann and leaned into her side. Makoto felt her heart skipping a beat; they were so adorable together! "Maybe I wasn't very um, perceptive, but… all those weeks of her visiting me, cheering me on even when I felt like I'd never walk again… how could I not love her? Just took me a while to see it."

"I can relate," Makoto hummed. Sadayo turned and kissed her cheek.

"Same here, Master."

Shiho's eyebrows furrowed, and while Makoto was trying to recover she said, "But is it alright? Her being your student - won't you get in trouble with the faculty?"

"Well… not anymore," Ann giggled. "She was a third year, remember?"

"Oh? Ohhhh, that's right; she's off to university now. So Kawakami-sensei is no longer her teacher." Reserved as it was, her smile started to grow. "You're really dating? It's not just us?"

"Not just you," Sadayo reassured her gently. "But you have to give the Queen the credit for being the initial pioneer."

"Huh?"

"She's the one who flipped me, dressing all butch and putting on that mustache. The rest of us were hopeless after that."

Makoto's face was almost as red as Shiho's now. "Hey! Cut that out, I am not a pioneer!"

"You totally are!" Ann cackled as Shiho was polite enough to do her giggling behind her hand. "I mean, if not for you crushing on Kawakami, I'd never have even thought about dating a girl. So y'know, my feelings for the best girl in the world would have been stuck behind that wall of, of… straight-ness. That makes you a lesbian leader! Hero to us all!"

"You're so cool with this," Makoto half-accused. "Why? I thought you were still looking to date boys - how did you change your mind so easily?"

That got the blonde shrugging. "What can I say? Shiho's amazing - and when I thought about my life without her in it, that sucked so much that I slowly realised I never wanted to be away from her again. That's about it; love won."

"Very true," Shiho whispered with bunched cheeks of joy. "She's my Ann. Forever."

"So simple," Sadayo giggled as she approached to hug them. Shiho did jump in surprise, but still allowed herself to be squeezed by the older woman. "I'm happy for you two, though. After all the both of you have been through… you deserve this."

It only took Makoto a few seconds to join in the group hug. "Agreed. I'm so happy and proud to call you my friends!"

Ann's laughter could have filled a stadium. "Right back atcha, Queen!"

~ o ~

The four of them found a ride to go on together, and had a lot of laughs before parting ways. Ann and Shiho only had day passes, and they wanted to feel out their new romantic connection - which was best done one-on-one. But Makoto and her former teacher had booked a room in the hotel.

"You're sure you want it to be here? Even though it's a 'children's park'?"

Sadayo smiled over her shoulder as she tossed her blouse onto the dresser carelessly. "The hotel isn't a children's hotel. I mean, I didn't see any 'no sex' signs in the lobby, so we should be alright."

Getting up from the bed, where she had been lounging, Makoto slid her hands up Sadayo's back to begin toying with her bra clasp. There was a brief instant where the woman froze, unsure of how to react… and then it passed. But it was enough to merit a response.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"No," she groaned, head dropping back so she could gaze up at the ceiling as if praying for a deity to ease her suffering. "I mean, yes, I'm ready to do this. But I'm not. God, I sound like a little kid."

"I'm the kid, remember?" When that only prompted a louder groan, Makoto laughed and hugged her around the middle from behind, nestling her face against her former teacher's neck. "It's alright. I'm nervous, too. We can wait if you need more time."

"I don't need to wait. Well… I mean, we'll see," she amended with a soft laugh, and Makoto smiled even wider against her skin. "Either way, it's nice to- oh!"

The gasp was accompanying her bra coming off. Makoto's hands slid up the plane of her stomach to begin tripping very lightly over the sides of her breasts, avoiding her peaks for the time being. Clearly, Sadayo appreciated that, because she breathed a sigh of relief.

"You sure you don't want to slow down a little?"

"No. I want to see… how we work together. In bed. Since I've only been with men, and you haven't been with anyone. If…" She swallowed hard, voice growing soft and apologetic. "If I can't handle doing the deed with a girl, I'd like to find out before you end up trapped in a relationship with some woman who isn't, um… sexually compatible? If that's a real thing?"

Makoto's brow creased as she pet down Sadayo's sides to rest her hands on her hips. "Oh. Um… I hadn't considered that. I guess I just… like you so much and am getting so comfortable with you that I kind of… assumed it would be fine? But now, that seems pretty stupid."

"It's not," she breathed as she turned to face her. The girl's cheeks were clearly rosy at getting the full view of her, and Sadayo smiled softly. "I'm actually jealous it's that easy for you. Maybe I'm overthinking this whole thing, huh?"

"You think this is easy?! No way! I'm still scared! Just…" She shrugged and kissed the corner of her former teacher's mouth. "It's you."

That kiss led to a dozen more. Which led to further clothes being shed, hands wandering. Makoto was surprised at how much she liked the feeling of nails raking down her back, teeth nipping at her earlobe. How wet it made her, how much more she craved. It was as if she had been aching for this for years, not a few scant months.

"How does this even work?" Sadayo whispered once they were very nude beneath a very thin bedsheet. "You don't have anything I'm used to working with! Well… I mean, on myself, but even then I use a vibrating egg most of the time, so it's not the same…"

The former student's smile was as playful as it was bashful. "Don't worry, I'll show you."

"You'll show me? Wait - how will you show me?!"

"So… I may have looked up a few things…" When Sadayo looked alarmed, she dipped her head in chagrin. "Shhh, I know, it's shameful. But I was curious, because everything I learned in sex education barely even covered how this works for um… penetrative sex with male and female organs. It certainly never covered this."

Her girlfriend cringed, looking squeamish. "Don't say it all clinical like that, it makes me feel creepy."

"Sorry," she whispered.

"No, no, it's okay. I just… you're almost more grown up about this than I am. Doesn't that seem… backwards? At all?"

"It seems fair, actually. You get to be the adult about some things, and I get to about others. That's how relationships work, right?"

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, "Yes, Master," before kissing her again.

"Good, Becky. And as your master, I order you to stop calling me that and just… be here with me." She bit her lip for a second before whispering, "Sadayo."

"Ughhh, you know it gets me weak when you say my name like that!"

Not that it caused her to slow down at all. Makoto was more than happy to begin using every trick she had gleaned from the reluctantly-clicked links for the sole purpose of making her girlfriend sound as beautiful and unfettered as she had ever heard her. The fingers worked better than her mouth - which earned a startled outcry and a lot of shoving away, both of them laughing afterward. She had never had so much fun in all her life.

Afterward, they lay in bed staring at the ceiling and humming when they weren't panting for breath. Too afraid of what they might say to manage saying it. Then Sadayo finally broke the silence.

"I can't believe we just did that."

"I can't believe it took us that long. Well… I can, but only for specific reasons."

Rolling slightly to face Makoto, a lock of hair falling into her eyes, she whispered, "Still doesn't seem real, y'know? You and me… even if I did know I was a lesbian before, even if I was going to date a student - which I wasn't, ever!"

"I was the last one on your list?" she guessed with a smirk.

"Yeah. Just… I didn't think you could ever… you were the student council president. Right?"

"No, no, I know what you mean; I'm not offended. Trust me. But…" Sliding a little closer, she pet up and down the soft skin over her ribs, watching Miss Kawakami suck in a breath of gentle surprise when one finger moved down to dip into the well of her navel. "I'm happy."

"Mmm… couldn't be happier you took my heart. Even if this is crazy, I'm glad we didn't screw it up somehow."

Giggling, she leaned in to peck her chin. "Came pretty close, pretty often. But at least we're here now. Together. And… we can be together in Okinawa, too."

"Really? You still wanna go, even after Destinyland?"

"Of course. We don't have anywhere to be; not for a million years."

"We sure don't, my Queen."

They lost themselves in passions again, lips and hips colliding and arms tightening around sweating backs. And Makoto Niijima vowed anew that she would never let Sadayo Kawakami out of her sight again.

THE END

#Queen Of Temperance #persona 5 fanfiction #persona 5 #p5 fanfic #p5 #sadayo kawakami #makoto niijima #makoto x sadayo #teacher-student relationship #forkanna writes #jess the writer #completed fic

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junionigiri · 6 years

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Todochako Week 2019 - Day 3 - White Day

Rating: G

The rich smell of melting chocolates waft all over the kitchen of the dormitory, as Ochako, Tooru, and Tsuyu-chan fuss over their valentines project. Satou is also there, providing expert hands-on assistance.

“You have to keep stirring that until the mixture is smooth, Uraraka,” he says as he helps Tsuyu with rolling the mixture while simultaneously looking over Tooru as she wraps the chocolates into little packages. “Be careful about overheating them, okay?”

“Got it, Satou-kun!” she says, brows furrowed in concentration. “Almost there!”

“Yeah, you girls are doing great!” Satou says, beaming at them. “I’m happy that you’re makin’ chocolates for all of us, but really? Just friend chocolates for the guys? You sure I can’t interest any of you in a nice chocolate cheesecake for a special someone…? I mean, except for Hagakure-san, of course. We’ll work on Ojiro’s cake in a bit--”

Tooru squeals. “Satou-kunnn don’t just say that out loud it’s embarrassiiiiiiiiing!!!” Overexcited, she throws a packet of truffles at his head, which bounces harmlessly off his forehead.

He laughs as she continues to glow in offence. “Right! Sorry, Hagakure!”

Tsuyu-chan croaks. “Thank you for offering, Satou-chan, but I don’t have anyone that I like right now. I don’t think Ochako-chan has anyone, either.”

“Well, if you say so…”

Tooru scoffs. “Ochako-chan doesn’t have anyone she likes? I doubt that, Tsuyu-chan, but okay.” Her tone of voice suggests that she’s rolling her invisible eyes right out of their sockets.

Ochako gasps, affronted. “What are you talking about, Tooru-chan? There really isn’t anyone I like! At least, not in that way.”

“Really? So all that daydreaming and blushing is for nothing?” Tooru presses with a mischievous tone. “Don’t look at me like that, Ochako-chan! I know you know you’ve been spacing out more than usual every time we hang out!”

“I do not!”

“Yes you do!” The chocolate wrapping now abandoned into Satou-kun’s skilled hands, Tooru floats next to Ochako accusingly. “And don’t tell me you’ve been playing your Sap Megamix playlist on Spotify because you’re not secretly head-over-heels in-love with a secret someone~ Come on, spill!”

Ochako had totally forgotten that Tooru has been honing her stalker tendencies to pro-hero levels of efficiency, for her own benefit in hero training. “Yes I could, Tooru-chan! I could listen to Carly Rae Jepsen for four hours on repeat because!”

Her cheeks shimmer bright spots of light scandalously. “Then why are you blushing so hard? Who’re you thinking about?”

The image of a certain close friend with dual-toned hair, munching through a plate of cold soba like a contented cat, flashes in her brain. “No-one.”

Tsuyu, who has been quietly observing this with an unreadable gaze, looks at Ochako with wide, unblinking eyes. “Ochako-chan, your cheeks are really red. Are you feeling okay?”

She puffs her cheeks, which aren’t that red, okay, they’re just naturally pink and bright. “I’m feeling okay! Nice and normal! Cool as a cucumber!”

Tooru whines. “You have someone you like, I knew it! The blush says it all! You are not cool as a cucumber, you’re as hot as… as not a cucumber!”

“No, that’s the chocolates,” she grumbles, stirring the cucumber-free concoction not-so-gently.

“No it isn’t! Mou!” Tooru chirps and bounces to her side, invisible head peeking up at hers. “My my my, you’re burning up thinking of him? Spill, is it a classmate? Is it Midoriya-kun? Or Iida-kun? Or--”

“Tooru-chan, it’s just chocolates, okay? It’s really hot, you know, even your face would be red if I made you stir this--”

Satou gasps. “Yes, it is the chocolates! Uraraka-san, I think you’re burning them!”

All of them squeal in unison. Ochako fumbles with the induction cooker settings briefly to lower the temperature and looks dismally at the mess. “S-Satou-kun…!!” she whines in shame.

“It’s okay, we can just make another batch. Got lotsa time,” their tall classmate says good-naturedly as he turns and gathers the ingredients for the next batch.

“I think Tooru-chan should take it easy on the teasing, ribbit. Ochako-chan is obviously uncomfortable,” Tsuyu-chan croaks.

“Okay, okay! Sorry, Ochako-chan, I’ll stop now.” To prove how apologetic she is, she gives her a big hug from behind. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to say, okay?”

Ochako hugs her right back. “Okay.”

“... even though I know you’ll crack eventually,” Tooru adds mischievously.

The girl cackles as Ochako tries to cover her runaway mouth with her palm, and fails.

After spending a few more hours making the chocolates, wrapping them up, and labeling each of them with cute heart-shaped name tags, Tsuyu and Ochako leave Tooru and Satou in the kitchen to work on Ojiro’s cake. As they sneak up to their rooms so that the boys don’t see, Tsuyu-chan nudges Ochako to get her attention.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow, ribbit?”

“Me?” Ochako says, going pshh. “Tsuyu-chan, they’re just friend chocolates. Not like we’re confessin’ or anything. Nothin’ to be nervous about!”

“Well… okay,” the frog-girl says, looking at her carefully. “I’m just a little worried, ‘cause you’re still a little flustered.”

“... I’m not.” Why would she even be flustered? She shouldn’t be anxious about giving harmless little noncommittal platonic chocolates tomorrow to all her friends whom she definitely do not feel any romantic feelings for. “Tooru-chan just shocked me, that’s all! I don’t have anyone I want to confess to.”

(Because he’s definitely going to have a thousand confessions or so tomorrow. He probably won’t even notice that Ochako has anything to give him…)

“Okay,” Tsuyu says, pausing a bit as they reach her door. “I think it’ll be okay. Everyone will like our chocolates. They’ll definitely understand our feelings for them.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Uh… what are you talking about, Tsuyu-chan?”

“Ribbit. Who knows,” she says with a knowing smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ochako-chan.”

With that, Tsuyu leaves her alone in the hallway. Ochako puffs her cheeks and goes up to her room and sorts all the chocolates in a paper bag.

Staring at the friend chocolate for him in her palm, she sighs. “Yeah… there’s no way he’ll understand.”

Distributing the friend chocolates the next day mostly goes smoothly. It was pretty fun seeing the boys’ reactions to receive something handmade from the ‘Valentine’s Fairies,” as Kaminari called them.

“Just friend chocolates for me this year?” the electric boy whines. “Ladies, if you’re bein’ shy about handing me my love chocolates, don’t be, all right? I’m totally gonna go all out on you on White Day if you do~”

“Sorry, Kaminari-kun! Take it or leave it,” Ochako says, dangling the chocolate in front of his face. “And you better give the three of us and Satou-kun something nice on White Day for our efforts! This’ll be the second-best chocolate you’ll eat all day!”

(The first-best chocolate comes from Momo, who claims she had done such a terrible job at something handmade that she bought expensive Belgian truffles for everyone in class as friend-chocolates.)

“Will do, babe! I’ll give you the best white chocolate ever! Ah, except for you, Tooru-chan… I’ll leave the success of your White Day to Ojiro-kun!” Kaminari says with a wink.

Tooru squeals and flashes so brightly half the classroom hisses. “D-don’t embarrass meeee! I still haven’t given him the--oh no here he is!”

She immediately bounces away from the them, box of chocolate cheesecake in hand. Kaminari, Tsuyu, and Ochako watch as Tooru unabashedly gives it to him and confesses to him without flinching.

“Tooru-chan is so brave, ribbit,” Tsuyu comments off-handedly as the red-faced Ojiro stammers something that’s probably a thank you and accepts the gift.

Gotta admit, Tooru-chan has got guts. Ochako wishes it were that easy in her case.

“Look at that lucky guy! Gotta say, Tooru-chan has got herself quite a catch,” Kaminari sighs dramatically. “And to think I thought this was my year to get the Todoroki Valentine’s Day treatment!!! Ah, why can’t a cute girl or guy confess to me!! Come on, universe!!!”

“Maybe you should do the confessing, Kaminari-kun. Ribbit.”

“Oh… I do, Tsuyu-chan, I do,” Kaminari says despondently. “But I guess everyone’s got eyes for Todoroki-kun by default on Valentine’s day? How does anyone compete with that?”

Ochako wants to sigh along with Kaminari as she eyes the so-called Todoroki Valentine’s Day treatment--a desk with piles and piles of chocolates and flowers and teddy bears, both for confession and obligation purposes, so high that they’re as tall as Shouji-kun. She’s sure that when Todoroki-kun eventually comes in for class, he’ll have another big pile of them from admirers who put them in his locker, or just outright shoves them in his hands as he walks in the hallways.

“Have you given him yours yet, Ochako-chan?”

She snaps out of her daze and back to Tsuyu and Kaminari, who are staring at her with an oddly interested look in their eyes. She takes a moment to process the question before telling them weakly, “Oh… no. There isn’t space on his desk or anything.”

“You need help just piling it on there? I can do it,” Kaminari offers.

“Ah… it’s fine,” she says, suddenly bashful. “I can give it to him later… Lunchtime? We’re all having lunch together anyways…”

Tsuyu-chan looks like she has something to say when the man in question comes in. As expected, the hassled Todoroki’s arms are filled with even more sweets. It’s like the entire student body and faculty confessed to him that morning.

“Look at that! How unjust the world is,” Kaminari sighs again. “And he doesn’t look like he’s enjoying himself either!”

True enough, the impassive look on Todoroki-kun’s face is a little more grim today as he sees the red and white pile waiting for him at his desk. Bakugou immediately stomps to him to nag him about his ‘stupid ass admirers with shit taste’ and the ‘pile of junk getting in everyone’s way’. When Todoroki predictably apologizes to him in his deadpan, Bakugou predictably explodes, blasting maybe half the chocolates in the pile, filling the room with a caramelly and chocolatey scent. Iida immediately goes to them and reprimands Bakugou for filling the room with such a sweet and distracting scent, and Todoroki…

… actually looks relieved for having less chocolates on his desk.

Ochako’s throat tightens a little bit. Ah, it figures that Todoroki-kun wouldn’t have any use for so many chocolates. Of course he’d be happy getting rid of a lot of them by ‘accident’.

“Ochako-chan,” Tsuyu-chan says, tugging at her sleeves. “We should get back to our seats, ribbit. Aizawa-sensei’s about to wake up to start the class.”

She nods and follows Tsuyu to their seats, unconsciously gripping on the friend chocolates a little tighter.

Morning classes pass by, and then lunch, and then combat training at Gym Gamma, and then home. By the end of the day, Ochako’s paper bag filled with chocolates is empty, save for one.

It’s 11 PM, and everyone’s upstairs in their rooms. Meanwhile, she’s in the kitchen, munching on a bowl of muesli and staring angrily at the last bag of handmade chocolates that she failed to give away.

For Todoroki-kun, <3 Uraraka, the label says. Her own handwriting shaky and not cute, mocking her, reminding her that she isn’t brave enough to give friend chocolates to a friend. What the heck is up with that?

It’s not like he’ll notice that she’s given him zilch so far. Even if he does, he’d probably assume that Bakugou-kun blasted her chocolates to hell where they belong and he won’t ask any further questions about it. As miserable as she feels about it, she supposes she’s doing him a favor by not giving the chocolates. After all, he seemed to have literally a lot on his plate, or desk already in this case, and--

“Uraraka? You’re up late.”

She sputters through the muesli and stares dumbly at the person in front of her. “Oh--Todoroki-kun? Um… did you just get home? It’s pretty late.”

He nods, putting down his jacket over a chair opposite her. “I got back from visiting my mom at the hospital. My sister dropped me off here just now.”

“Oh, that’s great! How is she doing?” she asks, as she watches Todoroki prepare tea with practiced movements.

“She’s all right, thanks for asking. She enjoyed the chocolates I got this year.” He pauses thoughtfully. “... well, at least those that Bakugou didn’t destroy. They were too burnt to be enjoyable.”

So that’s where all of the tributes go. The other kids had always assumed that he gave them to some charity or something. Ochako giggles. “That’s too bad, Todoroki-kun, you had a lot of really nice ones too, apart from the ones Bakugou-kun destroyed, that is. Did you at least have Yaomomo’s truffles? Kaminari-kun says they’re really good!”

He shakes his head. “I don’t like sweets. I gave those to Natsu-nii.” And then tilts his head, eyes looking straight into hers. “Wait. You like sweets. Sorry, I should have given you some, too.”

She almost chokes on the stupid grainy muesli again. “Nah! It’s okay, my tooth isn’t that sweet...”

At least not sweet enough that she’s willing to get targeted at school by the other girls if they find out that Todoroki plans to give her the chocolates meant for him. Please, she wouldn’t survive the wrath if she did something so underhanded!

He blinks. “Am I wrong about your sweet tooth? I thought your favorite food is mochi. And you like crepes and strawberry ice cream and pancakes and--”

She squeaks and blushes. “H-how would you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever eaten sweets with you before!”

He stares at her with an unreadable look in his eyes. “Midoriya,” is all he says as he takes his seat, cup of tea in hand. “I really don’t mind giving you chocolate. It’s definitely better than throwing them away.”

She laughs weakly. “I guess you’re right… then, if you insist! Next year, I get dibs on your valentines’ pile, so you better--ahhhhh stop!”

She snatches the little bag of her handmade chocolates right before he’s able to take them.

Todoroki looks at her questioningly. “Sorry. I thought I saw my name, so…”

“No!” Ochako squeaks. He continues staring at her hand. “I mean… yeah…”

“You have chocolates for me?” He asks, eyes glinting curiously. “And you don’t want to give them to me?”

She puffs her cheeks. “W… well, not anymore! Since you told me that you don’t like sweets, so… I don’t want to trouble you with more chocolate or anything--”

“... oh,” Todoroki says, looking at the table oddly. “Sorry about that. I suppose it’s weird to ask for them now.”

Now he looks embarrassed. Todoroki doesn’t have a lot of facial expressions, so it’s a little odd, disconcerting even, to see this look on his face now. It’s like she refused to open the door to a taciturn cat who wants in, for whatever reason.

“It’s no trouble, Todoroki-kun! I mean, if you don’t like sweets, you don’t like sweets,” she says brightly. “And if anything, this gives me an advantage for next year~”

He blinks. “An advantage?”

She nods, tries her best at a sly smile. “Knowing that you don’t like sweets, of course. You know how many of your fans are willing to pay for that information? By next Valentine’s day, I’ll be so rich I could buy all the mochi I want, and--”

Todoroki gives her a deadly gaze, which gives her stomach flips instead of the cold chill it’s meant to provide. “Please don’t. I’ll bribe you with all the mochi you want. I have enough trouble every year as it is.”

She giggles despite the glare. “If they only knew that the way to Todoroki Shouto’s heart on Valentine’s Day is a plate of zarusoba instead of chocolates! Think of all the profits coming my way, Todoroki-kun!”

“Uraraka, if you--”

A low growl from his stomach interrupts his sentence. They stare at each other for a few stunned moments before Ochako breaks the silence with an unrestrained guffaw.

“Sorry,” Todoroki says, strangely amused by the way Ochako is outright laughing at his plight. “I think I forgot to eat dinner.”

“How does that happen?!” Ochako says in between giggles. Before he answers, she stands up and heads to the kitchen, searching through the cupboards. “Stay there, I’ll make you something.”

Todoroki stands up to stop her. “No it’s okay, I can manage with leftovers.”

She pushes his hands away. “Consider this a replacement for the chocolates I owe you, Todoroki-kun! Your very first V-day zarusoba! They say the handmade ones really come straight from the heart, so you better enjoy the heck out of this!”

He stares at her with that unreadable expression again when she gets to the ‘straight from the heart’ part. (Wah, why she gotta phrase it like that?!) She turns her rapidly reddening face from him under the pretense of looking for the bottle of mirin and cooking sake and orders him to sit down.

Thankfully, she hears him comply. “Thanks Uraraka,” he says in a tone that’s definitely different from his usual monotone.

Cooking Japanese food definitely comes more naturally to Ochako than baking. Preparing the tsuyu sauce and the noodles isn’t as laborious as melting the chocolates the day before. In no time she serves him the zarusoba on the mismatched china available in their kitchen, along with a refill of his green tea in a coffee mug.

Not the classiest Valentine’s Day dinner set-up, but Todoroki’s face brightens up in a way that makes Ochako’s heart feel so, so warm, like toasted marshmallows.

“Thank you for the food,” he says, before taking the first slurp of the noodles. “... this is good.”

“Yeah?”

He nods and munches through the rest of the food--food that she made, with her own two hands, in their kitchen, while he watched and waited. She’d melt from the sheer domesticity of it all, but she also wants to melt for a different slew of reasons--the happy slurp of noodles in his mouth, the contented glow around him, the little smile.

But this isn’t really melt-worthy, because she hasn’t confessed or anything. This is just friend-soba, not love-soba, if there is such a thing. So she tries her best not to be sappy about this really cute heartwarming scene and tells him in the most teasing tone she can manage, “You better give me something nice on White Day, Todoroki-kun!”

He finishes the noodles in no time and directs that little smile at her. “I should, I think. This is the nicest Valentine’s gift I’ve gotten so far.”

… and gaaah, insta-kill. She wasn’t ever serious about selling her information to Todoroki’s hordes of admirers, but now she’s decided to never ever share her secret to anyone.

After that, they clean the dishes together and straighten out the kitchen. The thrill in her chest intensifies with each bump of the shoulder, each accidental brush of the fingers when she hands him the dishes to dry.

Warm and comforting and feels like home. It would be nice to have another night like this with him. She could cook him other things than soba, and…

Okay, maybe stop the daydreaming now, Ochako. No matter how cute this is, you haven’t confessed or anything.

They walk to the quiet of the common room together and look at each other before they part ways.

“So I guess this is good night.” Todoroki’s voice is quiet and warm.

“Yes… it is.” Ochako is glad that the lights are off and he couldn’t possibly see how pink her cheeks are. “Good night, Todoroki-kun.”

That small smile on his face, aaah, it’ll drive her insane, it’s like seeing hidden treasure. “Sleep well, Uraraka.”

Does she really have nothing else to say? Her mind races, knowing that it’s minutes to midnight, and Valentine’s Day is almost over. Her stupid mouth opens right before he turns away to stammer, “Hey…”

Todoroki patiently waits for her to say something within a silence that suddenly feels too heavy to break.

“... um,” she says, gathering her courage… and failing. “Happy Valentine’s day, Todoroki-kun.”

The heavy, electric something disappears. Todoroki stares at her like she didn’t have a crisis just now. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Uraraka.”

They go their separate ways. Once she gets to her room, Ochako spends a few minutes screaming into her pillow and trying to calm her heart down enough to sleep.

The days pass, and before anyone realizes it, it’s already White Day.

Ochako happily finds her table with sweets waiting for her. Of note are chocolate-covered strawberries from the anxious Deku-kun, who worries about fainting before he’s able to give the rest of his chocolate to everyone else; a perfectly square box filled with perfectly square Swiss chocolates from Iida-kun, with instructions for proper dental care taped to the back; exquisite handmade white chocolate truffles from Satou-kun which has Momo swooning from its quality.

Kaminari drops by her table to do good on his promise on his present: a bag of pink-and-white marshmallows. “Consider this your answer, Ochako-chan. I’d love to go out on a date with you,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Say, seven tonight in the common room? We can watch those really cool Mexican weather reports on Youtube over Chinese takeout?”

She gives him a playfully exasperated look. “How utterly romantic, Kaminari-kun, but with a heavy heart, I must decline.”

“Ouch. But I expected that.” He sighs dramatically before locking eyes with someone behind her. “Oi! Here’s the day’s star, back from buying white chocolates for the entire school! Todoroki, how’s your bank account lookin’?”

Ochako freezes when she hears Todoroki’s reply right behind her head. “It’s okay.”

“Man, you’re not even denying it.” Kaminari looks like he’s on the verge of a jealous tantrum. “Only you can put really expensive white chocolate truffles from Belgium in everyone’s lockers without flinching.”

Ochako looks at Kaminari dumbly. Wait, she passed by her locker already, and she’s sure she didn’t get anything from--

“I talked to Yaoyorozu’s supplier,” he explains, unaffected. “They took care of labeling and delivery. I didn’t have to do anything except use Endeavor’s card to pay for everything.”

“Ice cold, Todoroki. Ice cold.” Kaminari seems oddly offended by all of this. “And you aren’t even planning to go out with any of the ladies and gents who bared their innocent hearts to you?! Man, this is the very definition of injustice!”

Ochako dares herself to look up at Todoroki, trying not to feel too hurt over this. To her surprise, he’s looking at her oddly, eyes flashing meaningfully like there’s something he wants to say.

Before either of them can say anything though, the bell rings. All words disappear when Aizawa-sensei begins to wriggle out of his space under the table and groans for everyone to take a seat.

Kaminari gives them both a knowing look and a lopsided grin before he ambles over to his seat in the front. Ochako and Todoroki share one more look that doesn’t really clarify things.

Eventually, he goes back to his seat and focuses his attention in front. Ochako tries to do the same thing, ignoring the stupid feelings she dare not acknowledge in her chest.

Throughout the day, she tries her best to rationalize things to make herself feel better.

There are lots of reasons that she doesn’t have those stupid white chocolate truffles from that stupid award-winning chocolatier from stupid Belgium. Maybe hers just hasn’t come in yet. Maybe they lost hers in the mail. Maybe Todoroki-kun had hers delivered in the dorms instead of at school. Maybe someone stole hers.

But recess comes, and lunchtime, and dismissal. Her locker gains a bag of gluten-free artisanal salted white chocolate chip cookies from Sero-kun and a little box of cheese from Aoyama-kun, but no white chocolate truffles. When she gets home to the dorms with everyone else and the girls are passing around their White Day loot, she also finds her mailbox and the front of her door devoid of those accursed chocolates.

She munches on one of the many confession chocolates that Yaomomo has been gifted with rather sourly as her brain struggles to cope with this. Is it because she didn’t give him the chocolates in the end? Is it because she just made him dinner with the things from the kitchen, which isn’t really a Valentine thing? Maybe he doesn’t know how to respond to Valentine’s soba. She’s sure she wouldn’t, either.

But she would try to respond, wouldn’t she? If someone gave her mochi instead of chocolates, knowing that mochi is her most favorite thing in the world, she’d try her best to gift that person back with something that they like.

Especially if said person were a friend.

(And Todoroki-kun is her friend. So it’s not bad to feel a little bad about this. Even though in the end, she didn’t tell him how she feels and she doesn’t know how he feels about her.)

(Ugh.)

Eventually the girls get sick of eating sweets. All of them are on the verge of throwing up by the time they agree to get to bed. Ochako, still feeling contemplative, tells them that she needs some tea to wash down the lingering sweet taste in her mouth.

Moments later, she’s facing a full kettle, an empty room, and the moonlight shining prettily through the kitchen window. It’s 11 o’clock and her thoughts are racing a mile a minute and deeper and deeper into a pit of abject misery.

Ridiculous how rejected she feels, even though she has no right to.

She doesn’t know how long she stays there spacing out and feeling miserable when she hears the door open and close.

She turns her head and meets Todoroki’s slightly bewildered eyes as he comes back past curfew again from visiting his mother, most likely. He still has his school bag and an eco bag with the hospital’s logo on it.

“Oh! Welcome back, Todoroki-kun.”

“I’m back,” he replies. After a pause, he walks to the kitchen, turning on the lights as he enters. “What are you doing down here so late, Uraraka?”

She tries a smile, but it probably comes out as forced. Besides the weird feelings and all that, she’s starting to feel the ill effects of eating all that sugar. “I think I ate too many marshmallows. Needed the tea to calm my tummy down.”

“... ah.” His hand clutches the handle of the eco bag a little tighter. “The ones Kaminari gave you?”

Right. He saw Kaminari-kun give her a bag of mallows, and also probably heard his comical attempt to ask her out on a date. What’s with that look on his face? “Not just that. I got some from Deku-kun, Iida-kun, Satou-kun... the girls and I also ate Yaomomo’s gifts to help her out.”

Todoroki takes the seat across from her: a replay of the events last month, she thinks with an odd feeling in her chest. “That is a lot,” he replies quietly.

Ochako tries another smile, stares at him across the expanse of sudden silence. “So… you visited your mom again? How is she?”

He nods. “Doing well. But today she got overexcited, so I took a little longer getting home than expected.”

“Oh no! What happened?”

His lips pull into a hesitant line. “I needed her help with something. She got so excited about what I wanted to do, she tired herself out,” he says, after a beat of silence.

Ochako finds the subtle shifts in his expression strange. Stranger still that he places the eco bag in front of her, as if he doesn’t have the capacity or means to explain himself to her using words.

She blinks at him curiously, then carefully takes out the contents of the bag: two boxes stacked one on top of the other. The one on top easily looks expensive, probably from some fancy shop in Tokyo from the looks of it. The other one, a plain white box with just a messy scrawl on top reading “For Uraraka”. She opens both of them one after the other, and finds herself face to face with about twenty pieces of…

“Mochi,” she says breathlessly.

Todoroki nods, careful heterochromatic eyes watching her as she opens her gifts.

The mochis from the first box, the expensive one, really look the part. Dipped in swiss chocolates, prettily decorated, filled with Italian ice cream according to the label. They’re just the right temperature thanks to Todoroki’s quirk. If she weren’t so full, she’d have attacked these mochis straight away.

The second box though, makes her heart feel so full it almost bursts. “Did you…?”

Todoroki nods again, but this time he looks a little pained as he does so. “I tried my best. Mom and Fuyumi-nee helped me make them, but as you can see, even with all the help I didn’t do very well.”

The handmade ones are irregularly-shaped. Some of them are obviously not rolled enough and look awkward and thick. The others are rolled so thinly the mochis burst and the filling spill out. Some of them are so fat that they ended up bunching together on one side of the box like a giant mutant mochi. The littler ones have bunched at the other side, like donut holes.

She knows she shouldn’t laugh at his best efforts, but she can’t help the laughter bubbling up and escaping her. “Todoroki-kun, I can’t believe it! You’re so bad at this!”

“I know, I’m terrible.” His voice is thankfully light as he says this.

She giggles for a few more moments, the heaviness inside her chest ebbing away. When she’s done, she looks at him and finds that his gaze hasn’t left hers the entire time.

She clears her throat. “But… this is really amazing, Todoroki-kun. I think this is my favorite White Day gift, ever.”

She isn't looking at the first box at all when she says this.

Todoroki sighs in relief across from her. “I’m sorry I took so long. I wanted to give this to you earlier, believe me. But like you said, I’m bad at this. Making the mochi from scratch took me longer than I thought.”

She doesn’t know what to do about the swirl of softness in her chest as she gazes on each and every one of the messy little things, knowing that he’d made them for her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy right now, but you didn’t have to go through the trouble of making mochi from scratch! That must have been difficult to do for the first time...”

“But I wanted to,” he says in all seriousness, “Because the handmade ones come straight from the heart.”

The intensity in his eyes, paired with the cheesy words, makes her freeze and melt at the same time. She wants to berate him for taking her words too seriously, or to express her gratitude, or to just say something intelligible, but all she’s able to muster is a strangled little squeak that sounds too embarrassing to be dignified.

He starts laughing at her. “I--Todoroki-kun, stop!! How could you say that with such a straight face, I can’t!!” she says, covering her burning face in her hands.

Across the table, Todoroki is watching her facial journey with undivided attention. An amused smile is on his lips as he leans forward, face cupped in one hand. “Does this mean that you understand my answer?”

“Your answer?” She peeks through the gaps of her fingers and finds her eyes locked in his.

“For your soba. Isn’t this what white day is about?”

She feels her face burning anew. “Do you mean…”

He sighs patiently, the smile in his face not going away. “That I like you?”

As her hands float away from her face of their own accord and drop on her lap, his right hand reaches the curve of her cheek. His thumb rubs at the point where the pinks are, as an attempt at comfort.

The cold touch of it makes her feel alive.

“Yes, very much so,” he finally says, bright eyes looking right into hers, softer than she’d ever seen them. “And I’d like it very much if you’d be with me. If it’s alright with you.”

She bites her lower lip to fight the uncontrollable smile on her face, the deafening rush of blood through her veins, the runaway tempo of her heart. Her hands move on their own again, this time to encase his hand in hers, to feel the reality of all this.

“Yes… it’s all right,” she replies softly.

Later on, after eating and laughing over the handmade mochis together, the two of them leave the kitchen hand-in-hand.

#todochakoweek2019 #todochako #todoroki shouto #uraraka ochako #shouchako #todoocha #art by safri #i rly enjoyed writing this one #i might have gotten some white day stuff wrong but eh whatever #bnha fic

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deafwestnewsies · 6 years

Text

She’s A Lesbian!

Sarah's wishful, Katherine's irritated, and Jack can feel a scheme coming on. (And Davey can't find Sarah.)

crossposted to my ao3 and ff.net!

newsbians, javid

It’s not that Sarah didn’t want to end up in a gay bar called Packagé, but she definitely wasn’t expecting it. Her brother had promised a quiet night with their normal group of ragtag friends that started well-intentioned but quickly made a left turn. It was her fault, really. When had there ever been a time when something didn’t go terribly wrong? Like the Christmas they had all decided to spend together when money was too tight to go home and ended in a screaming match between Spot and Davey about different theologies, Crutchie almost giving himself alcohol poisoning, and Specs losing a shoe. Or when Les came out to visit and Boots nearly got him arrested for stealing ice cream? And that time in the park, with those crazy pigeons… So all in all, Sarah should’ve seen this coming. This plan, of the ones they had had in the past, was not the most illegal (but still partially, sneaking Romeo into bars was a favorite pastime), so she really didn’t mind.

The smell was a different story. Unsurprisingly, Packagé was mostly occupied by men, shoved into a crowded room full of people dancing and sweating. It didn’t help that it was New Year's Eve, so there was that lingering scent of “I just barfed up my long island iced tea and we’re all dancing in it!” Sarah was trying to keep her calm demeanor, but she just wasn’t drunk enough to be having a good time. There was a glass of Riesling sitting idly by as she watched the rest of the crowd lose their mind in that special holiday madness. The wine was fine, but she wished she wasn’t such a lightweight so she could drink something fun- like the girl sitting four seats down, twirling a hot pink straw in a slush that practically glowed green. Sarah didn’t recognize the drink but she could smell the artificial apple from here, and that told her everything she needed to know. It was probably better than the wine they swore wasn’t boxed but had to pour from a spout, under the counter. She was a lot of things, and a smart connoisseur of cheap wines was one of them. Glaring at the fun swirly straw and cursing her genetics for giving her such terrible Asian flush, Sarah felt someone slap her back. Hard. “JACOBS!” The voice yelled, and she turned to look a very drunk and very excited Romeo in the eyes. The poor baby had only started drinking his sophomore year, so he still got wasted pretty fast. However, he was a fun drinker and usually was the one Sarah trusted the most to dance with her and just have a good time. “Sarah! Sarah, Sarah. They’s is playin’ my song! Doya hear?” Smiling, she listened intently for his sake to everyone sing along to Mo Bamba for about a minute. Romeo cackled. “I love this song! So good. I got HOEE-” Sarah clapped a hand around his mouth to save him from disastrous embarrassment and got him to sit on a stool and listen to the rest of the song. He hummed happily as she covered up her laughter with a drink. The girl with the fun drink laughed openly, but not in a mean way. The laughter sounded like bells, chiming and grabbing everyone’s attention. Well, everyone who could hear her. Which meant Sarah and Romeo. A very confused and now a little bit angry, drunk Romeo. “Isshe laughin’ at me? That goil,” He pointed directly at her, “laughin’ at me? Why I outta…” Jumping on him at the last second, Sarah saved the girl from Romeo’s tiny wrath. She pulled him into the crowd (the things she’d do to save these boys from public assault records) and yelled, “Can’t do that! Let’s dance, Romy!” His mood immediately switched back, and Sarah found herself lost in a sea of sweaty bodies and the pulsing beat of Barbie Girl. &&& Katherine hadn’t meant to laugh at the boy, but the situation was just entirely too ridiculous. She was dragged to a club with a name that would make any respectable human blush by Racetrack Higgins (of all people!) who was meeting his friend that provided certain... resources that they both were taking full advantage of, considering they were both taking bumps off the side of a table. The realization that this wasn’t just a normal bar, but a gay one, made Katherine stomp to the bartop and order something called a Sour Apple Smash. When the bartender handed her a glass with a swirly straw, she had to physically hold herself back from groaning aloud. This New Years Eve was shaping up to be a disaster. A disaster until she noticed the quiet girl sitting a couple seats down staring very obviously at her. She had a glass of wine next to her (They had wine? And Katherine was stuck with a blended glass of sugar?) and was doodling on a napkin in between bouts of ogling Katherine. First, it was a little strange, but then Katherine realized that she wasn’t all that bad looking. In fact, her sharp features, angular eyes that caught the glint of the light, lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, straight brown hair falling perfectly to one side, made her one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen. Now Katherine was staring, trying desperately to catch her eye. Begrudgingly, she thanked Race in her head that they were at a gay bar because that gave the assumption that she had even a glimmer of a chance. If anything, she wouldn’t get punched for flirting. Thinking of conversation starters, (“Come here often?” “Why do they play this song? No one likes Sheck Wes anyways.” “What do I have to do to buy the prettiest girl in the bar a drink?” “So you like red wine, huh?”) Katherine lazily twirled her straw and ignored the burning stare she was receiving. After finally deciding, (“I’ll bet you ten bucks that wine is boxed and they just won’t admit it.”) she took a deep breath and faced the girl, just to get completely cut off. “JACOBS!” A small boy yelled, slapping her on her back. Katherine winced and turned quickly back to her drink, acting as if nothing had happened. Their conversation went on for a bit and the girl got the boy to sit down. As he hummed, Katherine laughed, once, to herself. First, her friend takes her to a bar in the middle of wherever, then she gets a drink that she does not want to finish, and lastly she can’t even flirt with the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. Wonderful. The boy takes this the wrong way, however. She watches, almost in slow motion, as he lunges for her and the girl leaps on top of him. My hero, Katherine thought dreamily, not even hearing the girl scold him while pulling him onto the dance floor. For a second, she’s disappointed again that she’s been left alone, but then her gaze locked on a phone. Specifically, the girl’s phone and Katherine almost laughs in glee. She wanted Katherine to follow her! She wanted to be found later! As she reaches out to grab the phone, another boy blocks her entirely. This time, she does groan, head in hands, the whole shebang. It’s a pair of boys this time, one sitting directly where she sat and the other beside him. Boy number one picks up her glass, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Wine? Sarah? Are we sure?” Sarah. What a pretty name. “This is totally her phone though, so…” He looked around and Katherine got a better look at his face. His face was similar to hers, sharing the same cheekbones and nose shape. The hair was almost a dead giveaway that they were siblings, however. She almost didn’t hear him ask, “Have you seen my sister?” Blinking in surprise, she just pointed in the direction she had disappeared in. “That way,” she squeaked. “with a boy. Short, backward hat?” Both boys made eye contact and nodded. “Romeo.” They said in unison, and the brother got up to get swallowed in the crowd. The other boy was left to make awkward eye contact with Katherine, nodding his head hello. “That’s… quite a drink you have there.” He said, almost sounding impressed. She leaned closer to him. “It’s gross,” under her breath, “I’d honestly rather have the wine.” The boy laughed, full and broad with his head tipped all the way back. Katherine stuck her hand out. “I’m Kath.” “Jack,” the boy offered his hand. “Do you know Sarah?” She awkwardly shook her head. “I’d sure like to, though. Do you know her?” “She's my boyfriend’s sister. That was him just now, he likes to keep tabs on everyone when we go out. Davey.” Jack explained, voice raising over the loud music. “Are you here with anyone?” Katherine pointed in the general direction of Race and his ‘friend.’ “Race? He’s over there somewhere with a friend. But he’s like a brother to me.” Jack quirked an eyebrow. “So… you don’t have a New Years kiss?” Right as he said that sentence, the countdown from a minute began spreading through the bar. “Expert timing, Jack.” Katherine laughed. Jack did a silly bow, his hat almost falling off of his head. When he straightened back up, he looked around one more time. “Can you promise not to move for the next, thirty seconds?” Jack yelled, the volume getting steadily louder. Katherine nodded, confused but not exactly scared of this boy. He seemed harmless enough, albeit goofy. Jack dashed into the crowd and Katherine was left to her own devices for the third time that night. &&& She had lost Romeo within thirty seconds of going on the dance floor, so Sarah decided to head for the bathroom instead. The line wasn’t very long, thankfully, so she was in and out just in time for the whole bar to start counting down. 48, 47, 46, pounded in her ears as she tried to squeeze past people to head back to her seat when Jack’s arm reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Jack?” She yelled, bewildered. Shouldn’t he be with her brother somewhere, getting ready to ring in the new year? “Follow me!” He yelled, glee evident in his voice. Inwardly, she groaned. That was the voice he used when planning something that didn’t often turn out well. Sarah was pulled all the way back to her seat, where the girl with the fun drink was sitting with a small smile on her face. 10, 9, 8, “She’s a lesbian!” and with a shout, Jack disappeared into the crowd. Sarah blushed and held out her hand. “I’m Sarah,” she offered. Katherine took her hand and pulled her in. “Katherine,” she murmured, before kissing Sarah as everyone else cheered for the new year. She tasted like artificial apples and the beginning of something new.

that happened. spot is race’s drug dealer. happy new years!

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