#seeing people upset about the cancellation of a bad show also makes me frustrated that they don't enjoy soc for the same reasons i do

[six-of-cringe]

You know what? The cancellation makes me sad, but not because I liked the show, more just because of what could have been. The show had the opportunity to be so good and broach the topics and themes with such intricacy as the books did, but it largely failed to do so. I can see how people could still enjoy the show if they were watching for other reasons, but for me it just fell flat in very bitter and at times offensive ways. It was surface-level, taking the outermost layer of each character and discarding the rest to fit into a disjointed story. I wanted it to be good, I wanted it to delve deeply into the characters and stories I love, but it didn't, and its cancellation just reminds me of that disappointment. Though seeing people upset about it makes me sad too, it also makes me feel somewhat isolated in my reasons for enjoying the book series in the first place and my feelings about the show. I would have liked to have a show that I could feel angry about the cancellation of, not a weird sadness-relief.

Also kinda bummed out for the actors!! They were clearly very excited for their roles and had little to do with the subpar writing.

[ianthoni]

I saw a rb on your post implying that Ian might not have an outlet anymore to express himself unlike others, this made me extremely sad because you could truly see Ian's spirit in the sketches they made and them not performing well would again make him question himself and his creativity. You mentioned the thing about Shayne saying that he doesn't think that he is funny enough and them losing money in sketches, and being pressured to discontinue them to suit the current algorithm must be disheartening and I can see why he is frustrated or defensive because yet again his comedic capabilities are questioned in some way or the other, because though they did make a few nostalgic sketches initially but later the sketches had nothing to do with nostalgia and were genuinely good. I wish he gets something where he can create and express himself because he is extremely talented!

Exactly! The problem with cancelling the sketches is that Ian has nothing left to have an outlet now. Like you guys said Anthony has his own channel, he has painting, he has his guitar he has so much to take his creativity and stress out. Meanwhile Smosh and sketches are all Ian has and now he lost half of that.

I'm already extremely sad that Ian doesn't have his own Ian Hecox identity where he shows how talented he is. Like a channel for himself, or writing his own comedy script for example, or doing voice acting cause he said he loved doing that, dancing, writing, streaming. Literally anything that he can express his creativity and show how talented he is. He was mostly writing the sketches himself, the jokes and everything. And like you guys and Shayne said he is insecure about himself a lot, about his jokes, about himself. He doesn't get appreciated enough. I wish people could see how talented he is. I wish he had his own thing just like Anthony so he can get as creative as he wants. He had sketches for a while and now he lost that, he is probably upset about that but also angry at himself for the failure. He wouldn't blame anyone he'd probably blame himself for failing. And he reads comments so he probably sees people talking bad about sketches, about him that's why he's so frustrated and sad. Last week's lunchtime he was literally so stressed he couldn't even say his jokes without Anthony calming him down, telling him he's next to him and he got this. This is so sad. I wish people realize how amazing and how talented Ian is. I wish people realized he's not a robot but he has his feelings too cause he's a fucking human being. If only people see how good of a person he is and how underappreciated he is. He needs to be appreciated more. He doesn't deserve hate he deserves all the love. Idc this is parasocial I'm just sad that man helped everyone and everything yet no one appreciates him or supports him the way he deserved to be supported.

[dinosaursatemymom]

anti Nancy, like srsly

You're still here? Okay, but srsly this is very against Nancy wheeler, if you're still here I'm guessing you don't like her? If you do, it's very against her, my mind will not be changed jsyk. Just a warning bc of comments on my other anti post lol 🙃

Also before anyone says anything about me just not liking her because she gets in the way of my ship, I actually hate stdie and Hrringrve. Plus I don't like a lot of the characters storylines, Nancy's is just one that frustrates me the most.

Actual Anti Nancy post starting now

This basically started out as a convo between me and @felineincognito in the comments of one of my other anti Nancy posts but this is kinda a continuation of that ig.

Also I'm not gonna talk about the stuff the other characters have done wrong bc this isn't abt them, and just because other people have done bad stuff doesn't cancel out the stuff she's done🤪.

So in the first episode I didn't really like her that much, but yk, the whole point was that she wasnt acting like herself. So, I figured that as the season went on she would grow and start being more herself, and I guess she did change to an extent. But then s2 happened and she was just being a bad gf to Steve, let's be so fr, she was emotionally cheating on him. Pining for Jonathon while lying to Steve about who she's in love with is not okay. This was around when I started to reallyyy not like her. And she just didn't take accountability for her part in the failed relationship. Then s3 rolled around(my favv season frrr) and Nancy still hasn't grown, she still doesn't take accountability for her mistakes. And she was exactly the same in s4.

Okay let's break this down by season

S1- Nancy is dating Steve. Will goes missing and Nancy is incredibly annoyed because she can't see Steve and complains, she's does not care about will. She lies to her mother and goes to see Steve. She treats Barb like shit at the party, Barb goes missing, Nancy suddenly cares about will and is upset that no one will listen to her. She finds out about the pictures and goes to ask Jonathan about the demogorgan picture, they go hunting. They argue, and eventually Jon and Steve get in the fight. At the police station Nancy starts catching feelings for Jon and is told that he is in love with her. After the whole salt bath ordeal her and Jon go to his house to try and catch it, Steve shows up trying to apologize, they tell him to leave. Steve comes back to help, Nancy, Steve, and jon kill the demogorgan. Nancy's guns are not useful in this feat ( @thegreenmeadow had a great post about this here). A few months later and Nancy gives Jon a camera that Steve bought, she is back together with Steve after waiting for Jonathon for a month because he wasn't ready.

S2- Nancy is dating Steve again, but crushing on Jonathan, this is emotional cheating especially because she later goes to jon for comfort rather than talking it out with Steve. Nancy and Steve go to barbs parents house, Nancy is struggling with guilt and wants to tell barbs parents what really happened. Steve and Nancy get into a small argument, Steve convinces Nancy not to break the NDA and to go to a party and try to relax. They go to the party and Nancy gets extremely drunk, she calls Steve bullshit and yells at him. (Presumed break up but that's debatable) Jon takes Nancy home, the next morning Nancy doesn't remember the night before and she gets upset at Steve for not picking her up. Steve and Nancy get into an argument (this is kinda why I think they didn't really break up otherwise she wouldn't have cared about him not picking her up). Nancy leaves school with Jon to try and tell barbs parents, they go to the lab and get a recording. After they get the recording they go to see Murray. After figuring out the story, they sit down to have a drink. After deciding to spend the night, Murray tells them to just sleep together. Both Nancy and Jon acknowledge Steve in a way that makes it seem like they haven't broken up/Nancy still has feelings. They go back to Hawkins and Nancy has a talk with steve, he apologizes for being a bad boyfriend and tells Nancy to go with Jon to save will. Nancy doesn't acknowledge her part in the relationship failing. She goes with jon, they get the mindflayer out of will, Nancy did not need to be there for this. At the snoball her and Jon are helping out, they smile at each other from across the room and are now dating.

S3- Nancy and Jon have been dating for a while and are currently interning at the Hawkins post. Nancy is upset about the other office workers being misogynistic and treating her poorly, she complains to Jonathan. One night while Nancy is cleaning the office she receives a call about some rats from mrs. Driscoll, she decides to pursue this herself the next day. She lies to her boss and barges in on Jonathan developing the photos, ruining whatever he was developing. Jon follows her out to the car and talks about how he's concerned about getting fired and thinks it's not a good idea. Nancy disregards his concerns and insists she's correct. They go to Mrs. Driscoll's house and find the rat. The next day Nancy brings up her case to her bosses, she is declined and told to stop pursuing the case. Nancy insists shes correct and again, barges in on Jonathan ruining his photos. Jon thinks it's a bad idea, she just says that she's going anyway, Jon reluctantly joins her. Jon again expresses concerns about losing his job, Nancy dismisses these concerns yet again. As they arrive at Mrs. Driscoll's house they find her having a seizure, the hospital is called. The next day Nancy and Jon lose their jobs. As Jon is driving them home, Nancy keeps talking about how she was correct and thinks tom is on drugs, Jon gets annoyed with her and says she should stop. Nancy compares him to the misogynistic newspaper managers, and calls him being upset because he needs his job the Oliver twist routine. Nancy gets a pep talk from her mom, and goes to the hospital. She finds mrs.driscoll having another seizure. The next morning she calls Jon about it. The kids meet up with Nancy and Jon, they discuss what's been going on, Nancy is passive aggressive towards Jon. They go to the hospital, Nancy half apologizes and Jon admits he was wrong about the rats, Nancy makes a comment about never doubting her again(imo this cancels out the apology). They fight the fleshflayer thingie. And go to the mall to try and save the scoops troop. Nancy makes a comment towards robin, that was later clearly written to be jealousy. They all fight the fleshflayer and stuff. Later we cut to Nancy and Jonathon having a talk, they're in love Jon moves away.

S4- Nancy is working at Hawkins post, her colleague Fred and her are discussing a spread, she is irritated with fred. After Chrissy dies, Nancy takes Fred to go report the story, she's irritated with fred. She lies to the police officer to get into the park, she then proceeds to go to every door and ask them questions. She then proceeds to talk to wayne Munson, pursuing her story. After speaking with him, she can't find fred, she goes around searching for him. The next morning we see her getting questioned by the police, she sees Steve's car and realizes something more is going on. Later, the gang is explaining vecna to her at the picnic table. As they all get ready to go to the school, Nancy starts to leave on her own. Robin goes with Nancy, they arrive at the library and Robin is talking through her thoughts and Nancy is extremely annoyed with her. Robin asks if she comes off as rude or condescending, Nancy says no. Robin proceeds to explain that she has trouble with social cues and filters. They go into the archives and begin searching. Robin clarifies that her relationship with Steve is purely platonic, Nancy gets more annoyed with her. Robin then finds the weekly watcher, they find out that Victor thought it was a demon. Nancy receives all the credit for this discovery. After the Mac has her first vision, Nancy and Robin proceed to come up with a plan to talk to Victor Creel. Nancy tells Robin to change clothes, they go to pennhurst. Robin ends up being the one to get them to see Victor, and figure out the music. They radio Dustin and tell him about the music. Nancy is the one to piece together Max's drawing. They proceed to go to the old creel house, Nancy helps Steve clean his hair. When they go through Watergate, Nancy helps to beat up the bats and fix Steve's wound. Nancy finds out the upside down is stuck on the day will went missing. Yadda yadda the finale happens jncy reunites, Steve confesses blah blah.(I'm sorry I got really tired just go watch if you care enough)

So um ion even remember where I was going with this but go check out the stuff @felineincognito said in the comments here because that was some great stuff. My point is that Nancy hasn't shown much growth, constantly screws up and makes things worse, is regularly rude, doesn't really do much for the plot itself, treats people poorly, expects everything and everyone to do everything for her, and yet is constantly treated as though she can do no wrong.

Also this isn't really a TV show thing, more of a fanbase thing. But if a character is just there to be a strong female women with no actual plot or arc, then she is not really a good character. I don't dislike Nancy because she is a woman, I dislike her because of how she has been written.

Nancy Stans who have made it this far, congrats! If you wanna shit on me or my takes, that's cool, but don't do it here, go to your own space with screenshots and/or copy and paste. Don't waste time harassing me, it doesn't hurt anyone if I don't like your favorite character, I'm not harassing you, I'm in my own space expressing my opinion. Please just scroll if you don't agree, this post is not for you. If you are really that pressed about anti Nancy takes, you can always block me or the tag. Please and thank you.

Love you all!

[dotthings]

The set of CW cancellations was definitely a bloodbath. I’ve been following tv/media news for a long time and rarely have seen that ruthless of a clean-out. I get why people are upset, and they should be mad at that network and the studios, because they made this mess. Years of letting things be a PR tire fire, loss-leading practices—I recognize that there are good creatives trying to tell the best stories they could inside a messed up system, but the cuts were to the lowest performers. It wasn’t targeted to scrub the network of diverse series. And a reason I boycotted CW for a year was poor practices across the board and while I acknowledge there were shows in that previous gen of shows that had some inclusion, I was frustrated with how the diversity they had was treated, and with some tokenism, combined with the Dare to Defy virtue signaling when the content wasn’t living up to it.

I know people have lost characters and stories they loved though so I’m not trying to put down those series, this is just my perspective on it.

The reason I ended my boycott is the sale. It was knowing some accountability would have to happen, because unless CW did repairs, it wouldn’t be worth much to a new owner. Also I acknowledged, during the year when I touched nothing on That Network, there were a few shows where I felt bad about not being able to support them yet, that looked appealing to me.

The next gen of shows imo are doing better. A deeper level of inclusion, more intersectional, and the stories are strong.

Here’s an article unpacking what’s behind the cancellations. This gives an explanation of the business model and the role of streaming and how the market has changed. Those cancellations were studio decisions. Studios are looking at big hits to their bottom line in the streaming wars. Viacom/CBS and WB, the co-owners of CW can no longer afford to let their lowest performers keep being renewed without more careful programming choices, and it can’t afford the perpetual PR tire fires, the accusations of tokenism, the cycle where diversity was there, then the characters removed, or the relationships handled badly. I know it’s a fine line between genuine attempts at diversity and not everyone enjoys those stories and actual tokenism. Also keep in mind CW does not actually exist as a network the way bigger networks like ABC, NBC etc do. It lacks its own studios. It was only ever a cheap shared platform for Viacom and WB to make some money. It was a delivery system. Media companies currently prefer to have their shows on their own wholly owned streaming platforms (or their own actual full broadcast networks), it’s more profitable.

In my opinion, the next gen of shows are doing better and I’m allowed to say that. The purpose behind ending the boycott was to do targeted support of the kinds of shows I’d like to see more of and I’m liking them so far.

So here’s a remind of the series I’m supporting.

All American — all black leads, LGBTQ inclusive, and so well done you’ll keep wondering how this is even from the CW network (I’ll be watching All American: Homecoming once I’ve finished catching up on All American, sounds like it is equally inclusive, same thing with all black leads and LGBTQ). Much like Friday Night Lights, the football backdrop is the delivery system for genuine, dramatic stories. The show tackles (pun intended) a variety of issues and offers pov not often seen on network tv, and awareness of the role of community. (AA technically is a slightly older gen of shows, it started in 2018, and so many of us slept on it, but is part of new gen approaches on the network)

Kung Fu — all Asian leads, with a female lead chosen one warrior character and LGBTQ inclusion. Similarly to AA, offers neglected povs, the role of community. Also a very fun magical warrior girl narrative that puts twists on established tropes for the genre. (New gen of shows, started in 2021)

Nancy Drew — while the titular character is white, the ensemble emphasizes PoC and LGBTQ. I really appreciate its narratives on mhi and self worth. Spooky small town vibe with ghosts, a sense of local history, and multigenerational secrets. (a bridge between old and new gen, started in Fall 2019, but approaches match new gen)

New upcoming series:

Tom Swift — can’t really assess until I’ve watched it but the backdoor pilot for this on Nancy Drew and all the press so far looks very promising. All black leads. Titular character is a black gay man who will have multiple male love interests. Also features a woman of color and a trans man playing a trans man among the leads.

Gotham Knights — again, I can’t say for sure until I’ve seen it. The dc far on CW became increasingly disappointing to me, as a dc fan. This sounds promising tho, with PoC and LGBTQ rep among the lead ensemble, including nonbinary casting. (I realize Misha playing Harvey Dent is a huge draw but I’m seeing comments that erase how inclusive the young group of lead heroes are while people complain about one of J2M being on board). Anyway, this is a diverse batfamily show and is ahead of Titans on HBO Max (the other batfamily linked live action series WB is running now) in LGBTQ inclusion.

The Winchesters — SPN’s terrible rep on inclusion is overshadowing this. But I’ll point out showrunner Robbie Thompson created Charlie Bradbury and Eileen Leahy and is someone who cares about inclusive povs in storytelling, especially centering female pov. Jensen and Danneel’s production company, Chaos Machine, hired Renee Reiff, founding member of Out in Hollywood, as their director of development. While a series premise on John and Mary Winchester’s love story gets side-eyes even from fans who are supporting this SPN prequel, we’re also excited about the diverse characters. I’m delighted this seems to be the start of more inclusive expanded SPN universe. It features two women of color as part of its regular cast from the jump, and one of its leads is a bi latino man, played by a nonbinary latino actor.

I shrivel a little inside every time I see comments about how the “new conservative ownership” is getting rid of all the diversity, allegedly. That’s an erasure in and of itself. Believe me, I get why people are angry, they should be. CW has been a systemic mess for years and now fans and creatives are paying a high price. Not blaming anyone for never wanting to go near that network ever again, for anything. But some fans take that stance yet signal boost only content from their favorite, shame other fans who are genuinely supporting the next gen of diverse fare just for us showing up after boycotting, and some who claimed the entire network and all its shows are garbage during the boycott turned around and suddenly started evangelizing for the older gen shows that were cancelled. While ignoring the diversity of the new gen of shows.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part VII

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1864.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

________

You wanted to slap yourself. What the hell was wrong with you today? Why did you tell Peter that?!

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...” Completely baffled with you behavior, you were deeply ashamed, unable to look the guy in the eyes and wanting nothing but fall into the earth.

“Ah, I got it. It’s Steve, isn’t it?” All of a sudden, Peter let out an irritated sigh, rolling his eyes skywards and rubbing his neck. “Of course, who else would say such nonsense. Blackmail, really? Funny he didn’t call me a stalker or anything.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean it, I’m really-”

“It’s ok.” He closed the locker, slamming its door loudly and making you jump. “It’s not your fault. If I heard that from somebody, I’d be scared too.”

He spent a couple of seconds staring into the wall until he rubbed his neck again tiredly and huffed. It took him less than a minute to regain his composure, and you heard him murmuring, “What a freak.”

He didn't return to the corridor, heading to the sports hall for his PE class, instead moving to the bench in the locker room and motioning you to sit. Feeling terribly awkward, you hoped he wasn't going to do anything out of anger, even though he had every right to be upset at your stupid behavior.

"About what he said," Peter took a deep breath, "it's nothing like that. I don't dig up some nasty stuff in the web to blackmail people. I've never done it. The reason why Mr. I-am-better-than-you said that is because I've made him take me into his little bodyguard group when I heard him talking to Loki. You're nice, and I wanted to help. Of course, Steve started acting like I was some creep, so he refused, and I had to remind him that, technically, he had to report your issue to the administration, not play a hero. I said that if I go and tell the whole story to the dean, Steve's gonna be in trouble because he knew who thieves were and didn't report them."

It was a loud off your mind. Goodness. Rogers called this a blackmail? Really? Just because Peter pushed Steve into taking him into their group?

You were less and less sure Rogers was sane. You definitely had to be careful around him.

"I can't believe he called it a blackmail." You admitted quietly, and the guy sent you a tired smile. "Peter, I'm so, so sorry. It was so stupid of me."

"Nah, don't worry. I'd freak out too if I didn't know the whole story."

You knew your apologies weren't enough, but you hoped Peter didn't take it to heart - if you can take such an accusation easily, that is. Shit, shit, shit, why did you believe everything these guys were saying? You didn't even know them in the first place! Why on Earth did you go asking them their opinions on others if all of them were biased, and every guy could twist the truth the way he liked? You shouldn't have let their words affect you that much.

"Whatever. At least now you know what Rogers is like." Peter sent you a grim smile and got up, picking his bright yellow sackpack from the floor. "Shit, I gotta go if I don't wanna be late. Let's meet in a library later, alright?"

"O-of course." You hurriedly stood up and left the lockers room after him, turning to the library: your Lit class was cancelled, so you decided to go study right away. At this time, the library was usually full, and you felt safe there.

Your thoughts were all about the guys again even when you were staring at your laptop, trying to focus on Excel numbers. Why did you feel like the atmosphere between them was so dense? If they were at such terms with each other, why did they group together to help you? What, because all of them loved you so much? It was ridiculous. There was something else to it, and you didn't know. You had a feeling no one was going to tell you the truth until you figured it all out by yourself.

Weird. It was all so weird. Steve's plan, their behavior, the relationships between them, and your nagging feeling they all were hiding something. Was it them who were actually following you?

The thought scared you to the point you started shivering. Oh shit.

"Hi there," the guy appeared behind your back so suddenly you almost jumped, looking at him wide-eyed, "sorry, did I startle you?"

"H-hi Jake! No, it's ok, I was just... studying." Both of you were talking in hushed voices, knowing the librarian would kick you out immediately if she heard some noise. "How are you?"

"I'm great, how're you?" You could hear concern in his voice: he was one of Thor's friends you met yesterday, and although you spoke briefly, Thor definitely told him more about you. "You look a bit worried."

"Oh, it's Math, I didn't really understand the topic, and we're having an exam on Monday... guess I'll be studying the whole weekend." You gave him your best smile to reassure you were totally ok, and the guy relaxed a little, smiling at you, too.

"I'm sure you'll pass. Thor said you're very smart."

What, he said that to all of them? Was he simply boasting about his girlfriend to his friends or was there something more to it?

"You're too kind. Thank you."

His smile grew wider, and he landed on the next seat to yours, resting his hands on the table. Apparently, there was something he wanted to talk to you about, and you grew uneasy.

"Listen, about these incidents... Thor told us all about it, so if you see any freaks following you around, you can message any of us, and we'll come right away." Looking at his serious expression, his bushy brows furrowed, you hoped he eas being sincere with you: you had enough with people you could no longer trust. "And also... that kid, if he's giving you troubles or anything, just let me know, and I'll tell him to keep his hands to himself"

Oh, he was talking about Peter, wasn't he? He had probably seen that silly photo. Wow, you though, Peter was totally right about Instagram: it was the best news source in the academy.

Thanking him for his concern, you laughed a little, convincing him there was nothing serious except for the theft and promising to tell him if anything weird would be going on. While it should have made you feel safer, in fact, you only grew more frustrated with this situation. You wanted to forget about these freaks and just spend you day like any normal student would, but everywhere you went people were staring at you as if you had a horn; one boyfriend or the other was always close to protect you from some unknown danger, and although you believed they tried to help, you hated the feeling they were hiding something from you. Why did you have to be going through all this? Wasn't it really better to drop off school, spend a year working and then apply to a better place?

Thinking of the faces your parents would make once you returned home, you realized it wasn't. This school with all those creeps wasn't worse than home that never felt like a safe place you wanted to come back to. Besides, all money you saved up until now were only good for buying food and things like that: you'd never afford to rent a decent place unless you found a well-paid job. It meant staying with your parents, and it wouldn't be much better than here, just different. If you wanted to drop off, you had to find a good place to stay.

Well, you could at least try, right?

When Peter met you in the library, the two of you no longer talked about anything important, simply studying together to prepare for the exams next week. It didn't feel off: from time to time you met his gaze, and the both of you smiled. You were thankful he didn’t talk about Steve or other guys or that weirdo in the lockers room.

Once you returned home, you went straight to bed, completely exhausted. Luckily, you did much more than yesterday, so you could rest now, but then you thought of Thor kissing you and bit down the pillow, angry at yourself. Why did you keep thinking of him right now?

______________

When you woke up the next morning, you felt like something was off: your body ached, your throat hurt, and your headache was only making it worse. Dammit, you caught a cold, probably. And that’s when it was finally the day to meet Steve, the guy you thought was a mastermind behind all these manipulations that were making you sick to the core. 

Anyway, it’s not like a mere cold would prevent you from doing everything you had planned. You left your bed and went to the bathroom, moving the dresser before again. 

Honestly, it felt terrible. It was definitely because of that flimsy dress you wore to school yesterday when the weather was becoming chilly. Argh. Watching your puffy eyes and swollen nose, you sneezed. Today you had to apply way more makeup to look decently.

Steve showed up earlier than either Thor or Peter: you had to skip your breakfast, hoping to buy something cheap in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” He said with his everyday polite expression that soon shifted into a concerned one. “Are you alright?”

What, was it that bad? You did your absolute best to apply enough makeup and do your hair. Did you still look so sick?

“Good morning. Yes, I’m ok, just feeling a little sleepy.” You yawned on purpose, covering your mouth with your hand, and Steve’s face softened.

“Did you study all night?”

“Yep, exams are driving me a little crazy.”

“I understand. I also stayed late last night.”

Of course, the student council president studying all days long to be number one student in the academy. If you didn’t know of his twisted nature, you’d think he was the most typical nerd.

You spent most of the time either in silence or talking about studies, the academy, and everything related to it. Steve acted like a gentleman and a scholar, albeit a little too demonstratively. Walking with you as if he were a king of the place, he constantly replied to greetings of others, waved to his acquaintances and smiled. You felt so off you wanted to find Loki and walk with him: unlike Steve, he was considered unpleasant by the prevailing majority of students.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” America golden boy asked you for the last time, and you forced yourself to smile.

“Of course. Thanks for coming, see you later, Steve.”

As he finally left you in peace, you almost fell down into your chair, your fever only getting worse despite the fact you took some painkillers. It was going to be a long day.

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi @nectav @whatever-happened-to-the-ducks

[txbbo]

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.

[marrys-dream-world]

Quick Simpleman Translations

First Minute:

Ziggy: she’s getting closer and closer

Marinette: Manon! Wanna draw a little bit? You love it, don’t you? (after seeing her Adrien drawings) Or do you want to play hide and seek?

Manon: yesss!

Marinette: or… wait, I know! Beads! We can make some bead necklaces!

Manon: Ella! Etta!

Ella & Etta: Manon!

Alya: own, you didn’t tell me you had to take care of Manon today. I’ll cancel the movie with Nino, it’s fine.

Marinette: no, it’s fine, more people mean more pretty necklaces :)

Alya: are you sure?

Marinette: yeah, of course, have fun in the movies with Nino

Alya: call me if you need me!

(when the kids are shaking the box)

A Kwami (Wayzz, I think): It’s the end of the world!

Marinette: not the sewing box!

The kids: tickle her! tickle her!

Nino says Marinette didn't say she would be taking care of so many kids and she says it's fine.

Marinette says they can't play with the kwanimals and the kids ask if she made them and she says it's a secret sewing project and they can't play with them

The kids say they want to watch Ladybug and Cat Noir movie and and they ask if Marinette likes it because she sighs. She says she watched it too much because she loves it.

Adrien asks for help because his costume wings ripped and she says she would love to love him before saying no, she would love to help him. Her plan is to get him to watch a movie with her as thanks, she has the session and the after-movie ice cream all planned out.

The kids want to go with her and she realizes she can't leave them alone.

Her grandfather says they can't stay and he says no, but the kids barge in anyways. He wants to teach them to build a potato canon and Marinette says no, they should do something simple like watching a movie and he says he can't do that, he doesn't know how. She says the kids know how to and leaves.

The grandpa asks of Cat Noir is the villain and they say no, it's Hawkmoth and explain to him why. He says it was simpler back in his time and the enemies just beat each other up until the stronger one won. Manon says LB doesn't beat people up, she uses Lucky Charm. He gets frustrated and wants to show them a football (?) tape.

Adrinette conversation: Marinette: perfect! Adrien: I’m glad I called you, Marinette. How can I thank you? Marinette, after daydreaming: do you wanna be late at 79,5%? (A/N: this is gibberish, it doesn’t make sense in Portuguese either) Adrien: huh? (A/N: I feel you, Adrien) Marinette: I mean, to watch the ice cream umbrellas- I was so happy to help and that you thanked me that I can’t even thank you for thanking me. Ugh, what I’m trying to say is- Adrien: Marinette. You don’t have to thank me, I’m supposed to be thanking you. I have to go back, thank you, really. Marinette: thank you for thanking me… (to herself) I ruined everything, as usual. Tikki: don’t you think you made everything too complicated? Marinette: you’re right, Tikki, I need to try again. I got it! I’ll just break the wings again! I’ll be waiting above with a fishing road and I’ll rip the wings! So Adrien will call me again and I’ll fix the wings again and he’ll thank me again! Tikki: you’re making everything even more complicated!Marinette: love is complicated, Tikki!

Grandpa calls Marinette saying he doesn't know what to do. He laments that everything is too complicated nowadays. She dismisses what he says and says she’s going after the fishing rod.

Shadow Moth tries to name him Neathertal and he gets offended, so Shadow Moth tries another name (Doctor Obsolete) and he rejects that one too until they settle into Simpleman. The kids ask if he was akumatized because of them and he says no it's because the world is too complicated right now.

Shadow Moth is upset at him using his powers so freely, but backs down once Simpleman asks if he wants the miraculous or not. He's also affected by the powers. Everyone starts acting as if they don't understand rules or social cues.

Marinette stops herself from using the fishing rod and says that she is making everything too hard, she should just confess. Then she sees the helicopter and decides she should transform, Tikki reminds her to hide so she can transform.

Adrien is having a hard time deciding if he should stay for the pictures or transform. Plagg says they could stay. Adrien says he should do like Ladybug because she's always right and he's in love with her.

When they meet, they complain about how fighting an akuma is going to be hard so they should just go and fight Hawkmoth already.

The kids start asking for ice cream and Andre says he now only serves cream ice cream. The pizza guy is delivering free cheese pizza to everyone. The kids say everything is more dangerous when it's simple.

The twins are excited to see an actual lucky charm.

Manon says the fights are usually better and Chris wonders if the bad guy is gonna win. Manon says the heroes always win.

Simpleman uses simplification again and everyone starts acting like toddlers.

Manon tells Ladybug to use her Lucky Charm.

Shadow Moth says Simpleman should try to offer candy in exchange for the miraculous.

The kids say you shouldn't take candy from strangers and that they should fight against the bad guy. LB and CN say the bad guy is too strong and LB says the lucky charm is too hard.

Manon says the lucky charm isn't hard, neither is the cataclysm, and the kids try to devise a complicated plan with the lucky charm.

Simpleman tries to simplify the kids, but Manon is faster with the lucky charm.

Chat Noir says his power really is very simple and Ladybug says fixing things is even easier.

Grandpa says the world is harder and Manon says that he's an adult so he's not used to not understanding, but they can help him.

Marinette says she's scared Adrien is going to reject her so that's why she makes everything so complicated, because she doesn't get to confess at all. But if the plan is easy or complicated, the result is the same, so she should try anyway.

She tries but ends up just speaking gibberish asking him if he likes fishing. He says he never tried. She leaves with just a goodbye.

Marinette tells Tikki that sometimes she tries to be simple, but it's too complicated.

Marinette says all this superhero stuff is too complicated, that maybe they could just watch football. Her grandpa says it's okay, he understands now, and tries to explain to them the movie.

[dreaminpetals]

Yoooo can I get some norton sfw and nsfw headcanons 😳 your writing is top tier btw !!!!!

⛏ norton hcs ー sfw & nsfw . . .

art credit

SFW ;;

♡ norton deals with frequent mood swings, hallucinations, and intense survivor's guilt, so he had cold feet about relationships for a long time. he views himself as a burden and stain on society, he doesn't want to put anyone through the misery of dating him.

♡ if he had a partner all he'd do was hurt them, norton thought. he'd try to rescue them during a game but accidentally maim them, or lash out at them during a fit of uncontrollable rage and scar them forever.

♡ when he began to develop a crush on you, he was even more gloomy than usual. he cancelled plans with you, walked away the moment you sat down beside him, and refused to heal you even if you were standing in front of him and the hunter was far away.

♡ it was your compassion that made him fall. hard. although you didn't speak much, you always went out of your way to help norton and offered an ear if he needed to vent rather than being scared and fleeing.

♡ he thought that if he made you hate him then his feelings would go away, but it only made you more determined to support the crumbling man who had your heart.

♡ every time he thought about holding you, he would be plagued with visions of him hurting you right after. sometimes he would burst into tears when he met your gaze because he couldn't stop thinking about you dying like his coworkers.

♡ it took weeks of nonstop affection to convince him that you'd be safe with him and that you'd love him no matter what.

♡ he wanted to be as close to you as possible to keep you out of harm's reach, but he also didn't want to be near you in case he hurt you.

♡ your love was like magnets. he pushed you away, pulled you closer, pushed you away, pulled you closer.

♡ the best s/o he could ask for would he a levelheaded and understanding one, if you were calm and nurturing (but not overbearing) then he could have someone to pull him out of his fits of catatonia AND calm him down when he was blazing with fury.

♡ norton's rage would never be directed at you, it was always himself or anyone who posed a threat to you.

♡ he'd give hunters tons of shit for even daring to lay a finger on you. he didn't care if hastur was a god and norton was a man, he was going to calamari that bastard for letting you bleed out.

♡ huge fear of abandonment. he needs constant reassurance that you aren't complaining about him behind his back or planning to pack your bags and leave.

♡ when norton is in a good mood, he can't keep his hands to himself and acts so smug.

♡ you want to keep him in his sleazy money hungry moods for as long as you can, you insist on gifting him with stunning gems or interestingly shaped rocks just to see his face light up.

♡ he gets frustrated and genuinely upset when you tease him or don't give him what he wants but when it comes to teasing you? norton is the most mischievous man you've had the experience of meeting.

♡ he uses the height difference between you to his advantage, if you have a hat he can and will hold it above your head and chuckle as you try to reach for it.

♡ give him sweet food!!! he may not look like it, but pastries and candy remind norton of his childhood and have a calming effect on him. for every donut you donate to him, he'll kiss you in any spot of your choice.

♡ if he has a game on golden cave you'll volunteer to play it for him, he can't handle the claustrophobia and flashbacks he gets when he has games there. he appreciates it so much.

♡ favourite cuddling position is laying on his back with you resting on his stomach or under his arm with your hair splayed on his chest.

♡ burns everything he touches but will still cook and bake for you!!! maybe you should give him lessons?

♡ never knows how to ask to vent. he lets you know by talking to himself, saying "i killed them", that's when you drop what you're doing and console him.

♡ he wishes that he embraced love earlier, nightmares and hallucinations are easier to handle when he has someone clenching his hand and running their palm along his hair to calm him down and remind him it's not real. the voices that asked norton "why did you kill me?" are replaced by his lover cooing "norton baby, it's not real, you're safe in your bed, i love you so much dear" in his ear. he feels like he can handle anything with you by his side.

NSFW ;;

♡ like his moods, norton's behaviour in bed changes like the weather.

♡ norton is a fan of slow, intimate sex where nothing exists except you two. when you can mumble that you're hopelessly in love with him as you give light strokes to his cock, each lick worth a thousand words.

♡ other times, norton is brutally rough and you have to use a safeword with him.

♡ on bad days he'll enjoy humiliation or degradation, by having you beg for him or be called filthy names it reassures him that you aren't plotting to abandon him if you're doing all this embarrassing stuff.

♡ when he tops, he prefers to fuck you from behind and grip your hips until his nails like talons leave a mark, drawing blood. he can't control himself when he sees you submitting yourself to him and spanks you.

♡ holds you no matter what, when he wraps his arms around your belly as his hips snap into yours from behind he feels like he's protecting you.

♡ likely has a breeding kink as well, he wants to cum inside of you as deep as he possibly can and never pull out.

♡ he has such a thing for your hands ー their softness, their size, how your nails feel when they scratch his back, how you play with his hair... he wants those same hands to turn his cock into a red, leaking mess.

♡ candles. norton would use candles to set the mood and lighten the room so he could look at you better, but he would also enjoy watching (safe) wax trickle onto your skin.

♡ especially if you already have cum on you, he'd rub it in with his hands until they stuck to your body.

♡ something about the smell and the mess of it all drives him wild. the fact you're willingly letting him corrupt you like this is enough to make him cream in his pants.

♡ obsessed with claiming you, he would mark you up from head to toe and have you promise you wouldn't leave him while his teeth sunk into your skin.

♡ pulls your hair so hard that some chunks have accidentally come out... in the moment norton growls and fucks you harder when it happens, but once he cools down, he feels awful and wants to give you a massage.

♡ the heavy breathing and strings of curses that fall from his lips make your legs weak, his voice sounds huskier and more primal during sex.

♡ when he eats you out or blows you he digs his nails into your thighs and doesn't let go until you've cum at least twice, the unmistakable scratch marks left on your thighs leave him ravenous.

♡ norton doesn't like when you make references to past sex when he's in one of his happy moods, it's so embarrassing for him. but when he's in a teasing, possessive mood? the same room you mentioned it in would be the same room he jackhammers you in. even if there's other people, he'll find something to stand behind and act like he's fixing your outfit for you... don't try to tease norton when he's horny because he does Not show mercy.

[epicspheal]

Pokespe Chapter 30

So the chapter starts off strong with Sou, Eternatus, Zacian, and Zamazenta disappearing, and a good portion of the characters getting knocked unconscious, and later we find out they've been in contact with some of Eternatus' poison. This is very much a classic Kusaka writing point where multiple characters get injured and it's one of the things I do actually like about Pokespe. It's not unique to Pokespe in that the games and the anime both haven't shied away from injuries, but Pokespe of the three tends to lean into this aspect the most. I think this is definitely where Pokespe tends to win a lot of people over because it adds personal stakes to the trainers themselves and not just their Pokemon with the risk of getting injured. So we're pretty much done with the Darkest Day arc (well the Rose and Sordward/Shieldbert aspects of it). I have to say I think of the three versions of the darkest day (anime, manga, and games) Pokespe gave the most coherent narrative. I've been a huge proponent of the Royal Twins and Rose teaming up so it was nice to see that actually happen in one of the official adaptations. It was when we got to the hospital and learned of the status of everyone that I have to admit, that a lot of my frustrations began to come to a head. Now to be fair a lot of my annoyance does lie in the fact that this arc in it feels rushed and to an extent, I wonder if some of my complaints would be resolved if there was better pacing and just more time for the arc overall. We know the gym challenge has been canceled for a while now, but honestly, this has been one of my biggest gripes about the SwSh arc. Kusaka's known for skipping the gym challenge in many arcs and honestly, that's not inherently bad. A lot of the arcs don't really need the gym challenge and so this is typically not a recurrent complaint of mine. But SwSh, in my opinion definitely did. The gym challenge has the most bearing on a lot of characters' arcs compared to past generations where I feel like we missed a lot of what Kusaka can excel at by him glossing over it. Pokespe is often praised for its battles and there was ample opportunity to show that off via the five gym challengers in addition to the gym leaders and Leon. Yet it looks like we're not getting that and that's a downer for me personally. I definitely believe if he had more time we could've seen that and this complaint of mine would be a moot point. But then we get to the part where Marnie mentions to Hop about the need for a new chairman and suggests Leon might be a good fit to which Hop disagrees do the fact that Leon remains unbeaten in an official match. And I agree with Hop. Part of Leon's character arc is for him to get beaten and rethink his life which ultimately leads him to become chairman. Not having the gym challenge thus him remaining unbeaten officially take a lot out of what makes Leon's character so great. It makes me wonder if the whole spiel a few chapters back of Leon mentioning he never beat Sonia was Kusaka's way of skirting having to write a battle with either Sou or Schilly. And I also wonder if the conversation (which just so happened to take place in front of an unconscious Leon) might be something Leon hears while unconscious and decides while asleep to take over the chairman role. Between that and taking away Leon sticking his neck out to protect everyone (which I think could've been a nice bit of conflict between him and the dex holders) it's just not as satisfying to see my favorite Galar character in Pokespe. I will say when it comes to character development I think for Leon the anime has Pokespe beat with the setup to him becoming chairman in that one episode where Ash and Leon go out for special training. And Leon's not the only character I'm a little upset about having their arc nerfed. Hop is once again being put on the backburner and admittedly I'm more frustrated with this than in anipoke because Hop showed up sooner and could've potentially had some of his arc woven into everything. Same thing with Marnie (who has now been screwed over in all three adaptations). The one thing that tends to keep me from enjoying Pokespe to its fullest really boils down to seeing characters that I really care for get their arcs and/or personalities get altered in ways that I tend to feel detract from what makes them interesting. Now some characters came out for the better in Kusaka's writing. I think Raihan, Piers, Melony, Rose, Sordward, and Shieldbert were done really well in the arc thus far. But like Hop, Marnie, Bede and Leon fall into the pile of many previous Pokespe characters of me being frustrated by their portrayals. Now that my saltiness is out of the way it's time to talk about a part of the chapter I really enjoyed. Marvin and Schilly's conversation about Sou's sudden personality change. I really like how Marvin was really devastated about this sudden turn since he was honestly the one closest to Sou. I also really enjoyed how Schilly wasn't trying to defend Sou's action but also still believed in him. Oleana providing input on how Sou is likely affected by the poison was really cool to see and it reminds me of her portrayal in Twilight Wings where we get to see her as more than just Rose’s very passionate assistant. The chapter ends with Oleana telling Schily, Marvin, Hop, Bede, and Marnie that she has tickets to both the Crown Tundra and the Isle of Armor so they could find the wolves and hopefully Sou. I'm really curious as to how Kusaka is going to handle these last bits of the SwSh arc. Both the Isle and Armor and Crown Tundra have their own narratives that I'm not sure will get adapted in favor of the search. It will be interesting though to see how Hop, Marvin, Schilly, Bede, and Marnie are divided (if they decide to split up) and how they may interact with one another.  That being said I'm more than a little bummed about how some of my faves really haven't gotten a lot of time to shine and so I'm admittedly coming into these next few chapters more pessimistic.

[hansolmates]

the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 

“Done and done.” 

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 

You’ve been seeing red for days. 

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?” 

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 

“Uh… hot?” 

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 

“Favorite movie?” 

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 

“Hard.” 

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?” 

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 

“Kiss kiss kiss!” 

“This is going on my story so make it good!” 

“Kiss him before I do!” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.” 

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 

“That’s the one.” 

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 

“What movie?” 

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 

“Always.” 

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 

“Already out the door, bossman.” 

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 

“You were worried?” 

“Shut up.” 

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 

“But still.” 

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?” 

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” 

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 

“Shoot.” 

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 

What? 

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 

“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 

“You say that like it’s not possible!” 

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  

“What’s up?” 

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 

“I don’t deserve your trust.” 

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 

“Long version or short version?” 

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 

“Hit us with your best shot.” 

[shadowturtlesstuff]

You belong with me

so i decided to post wadsworth first. modern au cressworth- you belong with me taylor swift

Thomas throws his phone down on the bed with frustration swirling around him as he paces. I set down my pen and wait till he turns and spots me. We often find ourselves talking via paper throughout the nights, from questions about our day to helping each other study. It is also often we watch each other be angry at something, yet I've not seen him this bad before. Finally Thomas turns and catches my eye. He stands there for a second before smiling and I quickly move around my various workbooks till I find my notebook I use to talk to him. I take my sharpie and write: ‘Are you okay?’

I watch him shake his head ever so slightly, seemingly baffled at it, but he walks to his window and opens it. The wind brushes his deep brown hair and I can't help but want to reach out and run my hand through it. I curse myself for it as he motions for me to open my window. Moving my books and pens off of me and cursing at my stiff leg as I go and open the window. Somehow I manage to hit my arm in the process and I curse, which makes Thomas laugh slightly so I forgive my body for hurting me. 

“You have a wicked mouth Wadsworth. Did you not learn cursing is unlady-like?” he teases and I relax slightly because of it.

“Fuck you,” I scowl at his smirk and the frigid wind. His eyes light up at my temper. We live across from one another, if we were to reach out we could hold hands. Which we have done. When I got rejected from the specific school I was desperate to go to, Thomas had managed to climb into my room and hold me as I cried. He's only ever needed to climb over twice to cheer me up, the other times have been to study or watch some romance programme he thought was good. I hoped wherever was troubling was something that wouldn't resort to me having to climb over. As much as I would want to, my brain may have a hard time letting me attempt it. 

“I assume dear Wadworth, you want to ask what has made me so irate?” he asks, eyes focused on behind me and fingers tapping his window sill as he sits. I watch as his cat, ridiculously named Sir Isaac Mewton, jumps off his bed and onto his seat next to him. He grabs the cat and kisses the top of his head before holding him in his lap.

“Perhaps,” I say, moving so I rest my head on the wall, “perhaps I merely wanted to ask if Sir Issac was okay.” his eyes shift to mine and despite him still being angry they soften at my attempt at humour. I am not as good as Thomas at using humour to help someone, but he always does it for me. 

“Really? You always refer to him as a little pest, whereas as with me, I am your dearest person, of course you want to know how I am feeling. My son is good though, very energetic today.” he smiles down at his cat. I remember the day he brought him home, he made me go over to his house and we spent all night playing with him. Thomas did, I ended up studying and making notes for the both of us while he gave Sir Isaac a ‘grand tour’ of his new home. The smile vanishes off Thomas's face and once again his gaze goes past me. “I assume you saw the call, well that was William. Yes, awful. Apparently though, there is a rumour that I'm with Miss Whitehall. I don't even remember her first name, but he was convinced of our relation despite my protests. Madness.” I watch him scoff, anger once again taking over his features. His cat nuzzles into him and Thomas leans into his cat. If I wasn't also mad now I'd smile at the sight. 

“Is this the same William that had convinced everyone I was dating him?” 

“Yes.”

“Bitch. Why on earth is he such a problem? Where on earth does he even make this assumptions about us?'' I find myself standing and pacing, trying to quell my own rising anger. A year ago, William had been my lab partner for a few weeks, he was friendly, but people had got it in their head that we were somehow together, and he went with it. Gossiped about me, even Thomas, and then was somehow enraged I dared to stop those rumours and be angry at him. I'd come home one day when it was particularly too much, when my father had found out and lectured me about it, as though I was in the wrong for standing up for myself. He'd cancel my lesson with my uncle out of spite, and I stormed upstairs. Thomas had been at the window, as if he was expecting me. One look at his face made me cry. I managed to open my window and he'd once again climbed in and held me as I cried. Then he made us watch this awful romance film together and held me still as I fell asleep on him. 

“I have never once,” Thomas says, dragging me back from those awful memories, “shown interest in her, nor will I ever.” He drags a hand through his hair. “She's just- a lot.”

I huff a sigh. She is awful. Had been awful to Liza and I for years. With her short skirts, high heels and the most rotten attitude I have ever witnessed. It wasn't often that I'd hate someone like that, someone so different from me in nearly every way, but she has tried to make me feel that I don't belong because of my interest in science and not the traditional girl interests.. “That is the understatement of the year Cresswell. Beside, you wouldn't work, she's too- your,” I have no idea how to explain how excellent Thomas is, how wonderful his mind is and how kind he is. It's not a side he shows to most, yet if he was ever with someone like Whitehall, it would be disastrous. I take my seat again and find him looking at me, suppressing a smirk and raising an eyebrow at me. “What?” I ask. I shrink under his gaze, pulling my hoodie over my legs as I curl in on myself. 

“I’m what? I'd be delighted to know your innermost thoughts of me, Wadsworth.”

“Your absurd but fine I'll elaborate,” I roll my eyes as he shifts so he is fully facing me, eyes completely focused, no sign of the anger he had only moments ago, “your too kind, too witty and clever and Whitehall wouldn’t appreciate you enough. You-” don’t belong with her.

Ever since he mentioned the idea of being with someone else, real or not, I have tried to ignore how much it pained me that he would be with someone else. I never expected to want to be with him, yet lately the premise of dating him has seemed very pleasing to me.

“You forgot to mention how handsome I look, or how charming I am, but I'll take it,” his voice is deeper than normal and his gaze travels over me even though his eyes are on my own. Thomas pats Sir Issac and his cat jumps off behind him with a whine. His hand reaches out for mine and I lean forward, wind making my loose strands of hair fly across my face. His hands are warm as I take them but his smile warms me more. It is small but genuine and filled with the normal Cresswell charm mixed with something I can't quite name. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego further Thomas.” 

“I know but it would've been nice. I did say the inner most thoughts but we’ll get there. Audrey rose-” he looks down contemplating his words before he once again locks his gaze on mine, his dark brown eyes bright, “I dont belong with her, your right, my heart would never belong to her especially since it already belongs to someone else.” 

I blink at the honesty. I want to scream that you belong with me; but if Thomas is in love with someone else then I suppose I will have to find a way to deal with it. I try to keep the hurt of my face even as he smiles at me. 

“I-” Thomas lets go of my hand and stands. There's a silence between us until he motions for me to move. The idiot is going to climb into my house so he can tell me about his new found love. Like the fool I am, I'm going to let him talk about this girl who makes him look this happy. Even though it hurts that it's not me who is making him look like that. Even though I'm the one who makes him laugh when he is angry or upset. Even though I'm the one who knows his favourite songs, the books beside his bed and all his hopes and dreams.

He climbs over and sets himself on the window sill, giving me room to sit across from him. I do, even as I try to ignore the weight pressing down on my chest. “I hope you are happy with whomever has your heart Cresswell.” I say and mean it. I once again curl into myself, hoodie covering my legs as i watch him continue to smile at me, 

“Of course I'll be happy. She's amazing. Let me tell you all about her. I met her many years back and was instantly smitten with her emerald eyes and her quick witted mind. How she sings to herself every morning and how her dark curls fall across her face whenever she sits on her bed and reads. I adore her curiosity for the dead and how wicked her mouth is and how delightful it is to watch your mind at work. I love when she shows me a note through the window to see if I'm doing okay and-”

“Wait,” I blurt out, my mind catching up, “Thomas, are you talking about me?”

“Yes, finally! I thought I'd have to keep speaking forever till you realized it was you.” He starts laughing at my gaping mouth until I collect myself enough to scowl at him slightly for laughing. Thomas reaches out for my hand, moving closer to me until my back is pressed against the wall, my hoodie no longer over my legs as he rests his other hand on my leg, warmth seeping through me. “Wadsworth, darling, I have been in love with you for some time now.” 

Silence washes over us as we stare, trying to convince ourselves this is really happening. “I have something to show you.” My voice is barely about a whisper and I slide out of his grasp even though I don't want to. I walk to my bed where all my notebooks were left open and my notebooks sits. I open it out and let a piece of paper fall out. Facing Thomas I open the sheet slowly, watch him read the words. His eyes lit up at them.

I love you.

I take my place beside him again, his hands finding their way in mine once again. “I wrote that the night after you came here the second time. Something in me clicked that no matter what you'd find a way to comfort me. Not save me, but work alongside me. I wanted to tell you I just couldn't face it. But I needed to acknowledge it. So I wrote it down, and I look at it every time we use the note system; I try to convince myself to show you.” Thomas just stares at me, eyes flicking down to my lips every now and then. His hands are making circles on my leg, not entirely intentional. Thomas has always shown if he is excited or nervous by either tapping or making shapes on surfaces. The world slows completely as he leans in and presses his lips against mine. He pulls back ever so slightly, resting his head against mine and we are both smiling wildly at each other, pressing kisses until he leans further away. Thomas goes back to his side of the wall, which may as well be across the other side of the world, then he pulls me to him and I twist so that my back is against his. He holds me as we both look out the window, enjoying the freeing feeling of telling each other how we feel. 

“Now would be a perfect time to tell me how handsome I am, my love.” 

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @padfoot-sirius-black-blog @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore ​ @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto​ @throneofsc @bookscressworth​

[haifengg]

A = Affection (How affectionate are they with a s/o?) Kun definitely is affocationate. But I guess he will show his love towards his s/o rather at home than as PDA. In public I suppose it would be a lot of casual hand holding or asking you if you like him to carry your bag or something.

B = Breath (What could their s/o do to take their breath away?) This is more about when he fell in love with his s/o. Kun is a very busy and hardworking man. I seriously don’t know how he does it. So I suppose his S/O would have to be someone who doesn’t there everyday, waiting for him to get home. It would have to be someone who is just as much a busy bee or workaholic as he is. The moment he fell for his S/O is when he sees their professional side. Maybe it is when he picks them up from work and has to wait  few minutes until their shift is over and during those few minutes he sees them being all professional, handling situations well and maybe tell other employees how to deal with problems. It shows him that they are equal to him in this way and from that moment on they would have his respect and heart.

C = Cuddling (Do they cuddle?) Yes. These kind of very soft cuddles of which you enjoy every second and crave them once they’re over.

D = Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?) I think his dream if so to say would be a long vacation away from it all. Going somewhere far and not think about work or the daily life chores back home. E = Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?) He tries. A lot. But being the leader not only involves actually leading the group and taking care of the members in some ways, it also involves working a lot with their company and getting messages across, standing up for them as a group and that is consuming a ton of his time.  So yes, he puts a lot of effort into the relationship and wants the perhaps little time with each other to be true quality times. No distractions, no nothing that would remind him of work in any way.

F = Fights (How do they behave when there is a fight?) Kun is a very calm person. We know he can be loud and funny, supportive, yell at Xiaojun for being Xiaojun in a funny way but I think if one manages to upset him for real he would first of all get real quiet. He would probably think exactly about what he says during the first calm part of a fight but on e things heat up more he will blurt out something mean. Kun knows how to use words well and phrase properly what he wants to say so if he is coming for someone he’s coming for them for good. If it is a fight with their s/o or someone close to him he would immediately regret what he said in most cases but it would take him a while to calm down and apologize. Eventually he will always make up before going to bed because you should never go to bad mad at each other. G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?) He is a classy guy giving classy gifts. If it is a proper event where you give away presents such as Christmas, it would maybe be something like jewelry or a scarf to keep his s/o warm during winter. If it’s their birthday or anniversary coming up he would probably treat them to dinner or go somewhere nice. In return he is most likely happy with whatever. As long as someone thinks about him and not just buys something random he is happy. Something practical for everyday use maybe?

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?) His only problem could be that he might be too stressed. It could be that he can’t really get away from work stress mentally but that would only be on a few occasions. J = Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?) I can’t see him getting jealous at all. Seriously he is such an angel. Which doesn’t mean he likes it when his s/o spend time with male friends. But he is not actually jealous maybe just a little sad they spend time with them rather than with him.

K = Kiss (What are their kisses like?) Soft and passionate kisses. The ones he pulls his s/o closer and won’t let them go for quite some time. Probably would put his hands at their hips or waist rather than cupping their face or anything.

L = Love (When do they say they love you? Do they prefer to say or show it?) Says It everyday he leaves for work and kisses his s/o goodnight when he has the chance. If he’s a way for a longer period on time he would randomly text it in the middle of the day. He would text things like “I miss you a lot” or “Can I trade Lucas for you?” “Thinking about you”. He wants to his S/O to know he thinks about them a lot.

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married?) Kun is dying to marry his S/O. It’s all he ever wanted. But he strikes me as a traditional man so he would ask their parents for permission and make sure he has the income and ablties to support his S/O (eventhough they are able to take care of themselve.) It’s something Kun gains a lot of pride from.

N = Night out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?) Kun is a classical date night guy. Would probably schedule a dinner date and a walk in the park. He’s a romanic and his s/o would have to be as well so they can fully enjoy it together. Given the fact he doesn’t have a lot of time outside of work dates would be a rare but welcome thing. O = Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?) He is not the one to kiss his S/O infront of the other members or like sleep with  P = Playful (Are they playful in a relationship?) Not particularly playful but a lot of dad jokes or the kind of sarcastic jokes you start cracking ones you’re more mature. Q = Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?) I feel like he would rarely ask for opinions since the wayV members probably give theirs unasked for a lot. But if he does it’s a special occasion and his s/o better takes it seriously. R = Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?) Kun likes to plan ahead and tries to stick to the plans he once made. With this I am referring to weekly or mothly plans but not a life plan. He knows life can take you everywhere and it is unpredictable but if you he has a date night scheduled for friday night his S/O beter not cancel because mapping out his week usually takes a lot of time. S = Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?) When going to bed and cuudling he either is the big spoon or has their S/O laying next to him with their head on his arm. But I guess once they actually fall asleep/going to sleep the sleep next to each but not cuddling. T = Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?) Of course Kun trusts his S/O but it might take him a while to reach that 100%. He is so used to being relied on that he forgot how it is like to trust someone blindly.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a s/o?) Kun is one of the old souls. And it shows. he is responsible and has a clear hierachie of priorities in life. Whoever makes it on that list should consider themself lucky because he is someone to rely on. If your world breaks into a million pieces he will help you pick them up on eby one and put it back together. V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o?) Continuing the point T it would take him a while to fully open up to someone. W = Wild Card (Get a random domestic headcanon of the character of your choice) Their S/O ordered a curtain pole but didn’t measure the windows so when Kun comes home he finds his s/o sitting on the floor frustrated over their stupid mistake and the money they wasted on this. ”What you didn’t measure hit?” Kun asks snickering and crouches down next to them. They sigh. ”I know I’m stupid, I wasted money, I’m sorry. I’ll figure something out.” He puts his hand on their back, rubbing it gently. “I had a lot of disasters at work today and this by far not even close to those. Let’s figure it out together.”

X = X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?) He would be the most routinated person one can imagine. He would quickly jog to his s/o when they fell, helping them up and asks his s/o a few question if they’re well. Maybe they cut them self real bad - then he hurries to get to the hospital. During the entire process he might not be as loving and caring as they expect him to be but it’s because he need a clear mind to think of everything and not miss a word the doctor tells them. Y = Yuck (Do they have any annoying/weird habits) Honestly... I don’t think so. Z = Zeal (Are they passionate as a s/o? Do they want or like passion?) Even though one might not expect it he is quite passionate. He is not the rough guy some people think about when hearing the word passionate but Kun is a passionate and serious lover. That’s for sure.

I am living for this hair and blazer

Taglist

@kpopsnowball​ @starrdustville​ @jeonghanmoon​ @himitsu-luna @pocky-otp

Masterlist

[piscesparker]

Betraying the bond

Masterlist | Taglist

Part 2

I stood in the hallway for a couple minutes trying to absorb what Harrison said. Was he going to take advantage of me? Or take over the kingdom? I shook off my thoughts and went straight to my room.

I saw Amber tidying up as usual. I always wondered why was she always cleaning up? I did keep my room quite neatly, huffing I went straight to my book shelve took out a random book and sat on one of the seats and began to read my anger away. "So how was he?" Amber asked excitedly. Without taking my eyes off the page I shrugged in response; she sent a quizzical look my way and went back to her work, I think she understood that I didn't want to be bothered.

I had no idea how quickly time passed away, I was bought back to reality when Amber told me it was dinner time. "Can't I just eat in my room tonight?" I whined, Harrison's words coming to mind. I had no intention in knowing what he meant. "The king has requested your presence since it's the first dinner with the royal family of Redmont." She informed. I groaned in frustration and got up from my seat, keeping my book in my place and taking a quick look in the mirror before leaving when there was a knock on my door, "Amber could you get that please?" I asked, applying another coat of lip gloss.

"Y-your highness." She stuttered, and gave a bow as she opened the door. I didn't have to turn around to see who it was, the person entered the room and saw him from my mirror. "Your highness." Harrison turned to me and bowed. He had changed his outfit, he had swapped his blue coat for a red one with gold buttons and loose white pants with black knee-length boots. Why do I keep looking at his pants? I mentally cursed myself. "I was hoping to escort you to dinner." He declared showing his pearly whites. Oh.

"Oh, um sure." I walked over to him and wrapped my arm around his elbow which he had extended. Walking into the hallway, something itched me to ask him, "Is this why you were asking for my room?"

He looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and a second later let out a soft chuckle, "Why else would I?" If I didn't feel like a fool before I definitely did now.

"Just asking." I smiled and continued to walk to the dining room in silence. The closer we came we heard the roaring laughter from inside the room. The doors opened to reveal our families having a hearty time, "There they are!" Dad roared upon seeing us enter the room and everyone's gaze on us. Harrison escorted me till my seat and pulled out my chair for me, I looked over my shoulder and saw him smiling; I reciprocated a similar one, thanking him.

As soon as he was out of a ear shot my brother, Alex nudged my foot under the table. I gave him a stern look as he leaned to my side, "So your future husband is nice."

"Please don't." I warned him, "I didn't want to be here in the first place."

"Sure," he rolled his eyes, "also, he was asking me a lot of questions earlier today."

"What kind of questions?" I asked and shifted my gaze to see him talking to Charlotte.

"Questions about you."

"About me?" He nodded, "What kind of questions?"

"Your likes and dislikes." He said plainly.

My likes and dislikes? Couldn't he ask me directly?

I was pulled out of thoughts when dad clanked the spoon against his glass, "A toast!" He announced, "To our union of land and relationship," he locked eyes with me, "To Northollow!"

"To Northollow!" Everyone raised their glasses and chanted together.

~~

After dinner I was about to head to my room when dad stopped me. "Honey I wanted to let you know that I cancelled your classes for this week-"

"Oh, so this you want me to know?" I sassed and crossed my hands across my chest in defence, "What are you not telling me now?"

"I can see you are still upset," he let out an exasperated sigh, "but while I go over the legal documents with the queen I want you to give Harrison and Charlotte a little tour of the kingdom."

"A tour?! I am about to be the future queen and you want me to give them a tour?" I let my anger take over me, "Shouldn't I be there, going over the documents?"

"Yes, but you are not queen yet. So as a princess you have to tend to our guests." He said. I clenched my jaw in anger and went straight to my room, I had no energy to argue with him; we were already on thin ice.

The next morning I woke up to the bright sun light coming from the window as well as soft whispers near the door, lifting my hand away from head I tried to get a glimpse of the voices. It was Amber and Harrison, she was standing at the door while he was standing out smiling and listening carefully to what she was saying and leaving a few moments later.

"What did he want?" I yawned and sat up on my bed, rubbing away the sleep from my eyes.

"He was asking if you were up yet, isn't that sweet?"

"Why?" I asked.

"Maybe because he wants to be a perfect husband?" She chuckled.

Perfect husband my ass. "I'll be the judge of that." I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"Your highness, could I ask you something?" She asked meekly, I nodded, "You don't want this do you?"

"That obvious huh?"

"I've been taking care of you for some time now, I can tell when you are upset dear, your not that subtle."

"It's just that all my life I've been taught to be the perfect Queen, and considering I am the first one to, I want to make sure I make my place without a man beside me."

"And that is exactly what you've done, the people love you with or without a man by your side but I think it's time someone loved you for you and not for the throne," she placed a comforting hand on mine, "Unlike Prince Chad." She said and both of us fake gagged letting out a laugh moments later.

Prince Chad was visiting from the Kingdom of Nella, and he was a shame to princes all over the world. He was an absolute snob who was taking advantage of me because his daddy dearest, the king had banished him for some reason and was desperate to be in line for a throne. When he heard I was the future queen he kept on persuading me, but unfortunately I couldn't be. He's also the reason I don't want to find a husband this early on.

"Just give him a chance, please?"

"I'll think about it." I hummed.

"Well you better make up your mind fast, you have a busy day today." She chuckled and went to draw me a bath.

"Right, tour!" Groaning a plopped back into the comfort of my sheets.

"Come on, it wouldn't be that bad!"

~~

After a refreshing bath and scrumptious breakfast, I went downstairs and saw Harrison talking to dad, apparently something that made him laugh. "Ah, good morning dear!" Dad said as his eyes caught mine, I smiled. "Morning dad." I kissed his cheek and turned to Harrison, "Your highness." He flashed his famous grin, bowed and took my hand placing a kiss on my knuckles. He seemed to have a casual attire today, a blue buttoned up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black pants. I really need to gouge my eyes out if I look at his pants again.

"The carriage is waiting for you." Dad informed.

"Shouldn't we wait for Charlotte?"

"She's taking the day to herself, she hasn't been feeling that well." Harrison cut in.

"Well then, the two of you should get going." Dad practically shoved us out the door.

Just the two us travelling across the kingdom.

Alone.

Great.

a/n: Lemme know what you think 🥰

General Taglist: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @peaches-parker @mischiefmanaged011 @hollanderfangirl @calltothewild @parkerpeter24 @whatthefuckimbisexual @yourstrulyamour @felicityparkers @theonly1outof-a-billion @miraclesoflove @theliterarymess @osterfieldholland01 @spideyssunshine @zspideyy @chillingonlife @yousayironisayman @keithseabrook27

Harrison Osterfield Taglist: @hollandbroz-n-haz @hjoficrecs @euphorichxlland @asshatgrace @anissalime @just-lost-inbetween-worlds

Betraying the bond taglist: @in-some-fandoms @frenchfrostpudding @sheranatic111 @calltothewild @kickingn-ames @tomhollander96 @minejungwoo @multific @emistrash @thisetaernallove @angelsgrxzer @hellomadambutterfly @britishvamps @falconxbarnes @bicyhot1

Strike through means I couldn't tag you

[howtosingit]

Fic: when the world’s on fire, all i need is you

Concerned about his lack of culinary experience, Carlos teaches TK how to make fajitas.

*

A missing moment from 1x06.

1.7K | Also on AO3

- - - - -

Carlos stands in front of his refrigerator, staring inside and having no idea what he wants to make for dinner. 

He’s glad to have the night off at home, but ever since TK texted him to unexpectedly cancel their evening plans, he’s been wandering aimlessly around his apartment, trying to find things to keep himself busy. Unfortunately, he only has so much dirty laundry, and living alone means that his place is already pretty clean.

It’s not that he feels like he has nothing to do without TK around, it’s just that… Well, they’ve been spending a lot of time together - as friends - and he looks forward to the few nights that the both have off work. Tonight, they had planned a whole cooking lesson, with Carlos showing TK how to make chicken fajitas. Ever since he found out about TK’s limited culinary experience, Carlos has taken it upon himself to ensure that the man knows how to at least cook a few easy recipes for himself. They’ve spent many nights in his kitchen, music playing low as they circle around one another, making dinner together.

He’s not upset that TK cancelled on him; from his texts, he gathers that something came up with his dad at work. Carlos had offered any help that his friend might need, or at the very least his presence, but TK hadn’t responded to his messages. He’s trying not to worry too much; last he’d heard, Captain Strand’s treatments had been going as well as they could expect. In the past few weeks, TK has even seemed a little lighter, like a heavy weight has been lifted from his shoulders, if only a bit. 

With a sigh, Carlos reaches into his fridge to grab the chicken and peppers, deciding that he might as well have the dinner that he’d planned, even if he’ll be having it alone. He turns on some music, prepping his work station, and has just started to slice the chicken into strips when there’s a knock at his door.

He looks up, wondering who in the world could be here to see him. A glance down at his phone shows no missed calls or messages, and everyone that might visit typically lets him know when they’re coming over. He puts down his knife, quickly washing his hands at the sink before moving towards the door and pulling it open.

“Hey,” TK says, standing on his front step with his hands hidden in the front pocket of his hoodie.

“TK,” Carlos says, his surprise clear in his tone. “Hey.”

“Sorry I’m late,” the other man apologizes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, “but I was hoping dinner might still be on the table?”

Carlos scans his face, trying to get a read on what exactly TK might be thinking. Based on his texts, he wasn’t expecting to see him this evening, and he can’t tell if TK being here is good news or bad news. 

“I actually just started,” he finally responds, opening the door a little wider, “and I’d love an assistant.”

TK smiles, his face morphing into a grateful expression as he steps across the threshold and into the apartment. Carlos follows him over to the kitchen, wondering if he should ask about TK’s day, or if it’s better to wait until TK offers something. There’s soft music in the background, the only sound breaking the somewhat tense silence between them as TK washes his hands at the sink.

“So, MasterChef Reyes,” TK jokes, turning to face him, “where do you need me?”

Carlos stares at him for a moment, noticing how the other man is avoiding eye contact and fiddling with the sting of his hoodie. It’s clear that TK’s in need of a distraction, and he is more than happy to provide him with one.

“Okay,” Carlos nods, turning back to his workstation. “So, I’ve been cutting the chicken into strips, and then I’m going to cook them. While I do that, you can start cutting the peppers and onions.”

“Yes, sir,” TK teases, coming over to stand at his side and nudging him gently. Carlos briefly shows TK how he wants the vegetables cut, then goes back to his chicken. When he’s finished, he carries his cutting board over to the stove, turning on the heat and adding oil before tossing the chicken in and adding all of his spices and seasonings. 

His mind races with a possible conversation starter, anything that might pull them out of this awkward silence that exists between them, but following his quiet day at work, nothing really comes to mind. He’s just begun to hum along to the music under his breath, hoping that might fill some of the void left by their lack of conversation, when he hears the sound of forceful chopping behind him.

He turns to find TK huffing heavily over the cutting board, the knife in his hand a newfound weapon as he slices into the onion in front of him. Carlos watches him for a moment, taking in the tense set of his shoulders and the way his head is bowed over the counter, hiding his face from view. It’s only when his fear of a possible injury outweighs his desire to let TK destress in his own way that Carlos steps forward.

“Hey, hey, be careful,” he says calmly, his right hand coming up to grip TK’s weapon-wielding arm as his left arm circles around his waist to press against TK’s hip. “No one needs to lose a finger tonight,” he jokes quietly, guiding the knife down to the board, where TK finally releases it.

“You want to tell me whose face you were picturing on that cutting board?” Carlos hedges when TK doesn’t speak. Instead, the man presses his palms into the counter, his breathing heavy and his eyes wet - whether from the onion that he was just cutting or something else, Carlos can’t tell. 

“Fuck!” TK cries, pushing away from the counter and Carlos to pace on the other side of the island, near the table. He runs his hands through his hair, clearly agitated, as he turns and faces Carlos. “I’m so sorry, Carlos, I’m not trying to ruin your night, it’s just…”

He trails off, throwing his hands into the air. Carlos hasn’t seen him this frustrated since he cooked him dinner all of those months ago and then watched as TK stormed out of his apartment into the night.

He would give anything for that to not happen again.

“TK, it’s fine, you don’t have to apologize,” Carlos says gently, backing up to turn the heat down on the chicken before circling around to join TK on the other side of the counter. “Just, tell me what’s wrong. Let me help, I want to help.”

TK stares at him for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth between Carlos’s own, almost like he’s weighing his ways forward. Then, with a nod, he steps closer, his shoulders dropping as he lets out a deep breath.

“My dad’s gonna lose his job,” TK says, his voice shaky.

Carlos’s eyes widen, and he instinctively reaches out to take TK’s hand, the other man gripping him tightly. “What?” he asks, sure he must’ve misheard.

“Judd introduced my dad to this fire captain buddy of his,” TK explains, an edge of anger in his voice now, “and my dad started spending time with him. He revealed all these things, including his cancer diagnosis. Turns out, the guy actually wants to take his job, so he turned him into the chief.”

“Shit,” Carlos breathes, his mind racing with all of this new information. 

“Yeah,” TK agrees, nodding as he clenches his jaw. “So now he’s got to take the CPAT in full gear or they’ll replace him.”

He pulls away again, letting out a frustrated groan. 

“Why is it that every single time I feel like I’m finally finding my footing in this place, something comes along to fuck it all up?” he cries, his voice thin as he drops down into a chair at the table. “Every time I start to get a really good look at things, to start to understand them, they shift and I’m just left trying to figure out where I am and what I’m supposed to do.”

“Hey,” Carlos says soothingly, coming up behind TK. Before he can think too hard about it, he bends over to give him a hug from behind, wrapping his arms around the firefighter’s shoulders as he presses their faces together. “It’s going to be okay, TK.”

“You don’t know that, Carlos,” TK says in defeat. He reaches up to run his palms along Carlos’s forearms, gripping his wrists tightly.

“Yeah, I guess I don’t,” Carlos admits, ducking his head to press his chin against TK’s shoulder. “But I do know that no matter how crazy things get, you are surrounded by an army of people who want to help you. So, be there for you dad. Do whatever you need to do to get him through this, but let others help you when you need it, okay?”

There’s a pause before TK turns to look at him, their faces close as their eyes lock. 

“Even you?”

Carlos sucks in a breath, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“All you have to do is ask, Ty. I’m right here, always.”

TK nods, his eyes shining as he presses their foreheads together. For Carlos, this moment seems completely outside of their normal friendly behavior, the lines blurring more and more as the seconds pass, but he can’t bring himself to pull away. He wants this, more than he’s ever wanted anything, so if TK’s willing to let him, he’s going to stay by his side for as long as he can.

The moment is finally broken by the sound of TK’s stomach rumbling, reminding them of the half-cooked dinner waiting for them in the kitchen. They both pull away, laughing softly. 

“C’mon,” Carlos says, holding out his hand. “Let’s make sure I haven’t burned the chicken.”

“I’ll forgive you if you have,” TK says, his tone light as he takes Carlos’s hand, rising from the chair. “Nobody’s perfect after all.”

Carlos laughs, shoving him away as he moves over to the stove. TK follows behind him, pressing up against his side to listen to his instructions, the small smile resting on his lips a far cry from his cloudy countenance when he first arrived.

The music plays on around them, keeping the roaring fire of their unexpected futures at bay for just a little longer.

[posi-writes1]

Why are you here?

Here is another drabble (or maybe oneshot? I don’t know what the rules are) from my AO3. Nothing to complicated. Just a reader struggling and Oikawa being helpful. Hope you enjoy. :)

Word Count: Just shy of 1.6k

Your eyes glaze over as you listen to your friend ramble on. If you have to sit here and listen to her ramble on about Oikawa freaking Tooru any longer, you are going to implode. You really shouldn’t be surprised that this is where your afternoon study session went. It had become the norm. The two of you would meet up at the cafe around the corner from the school to go over your homework together and she would eventually lead you down the Oikawa conversation rabbit hole.

You managed to rein her in and keep her on task for approximately 30 minutes today. A new record, you think to yourself proudly. Inevitably though, the conversation went to Oikawa, the charismatic 3rd year and captain of the school’s volleyball team.

It isn’t that you had a problem with him specifically. You just thought he was a bit overrated and fairly annoying. But you didn’t hate him or anything. You shared a class with him. He was a decent student and classmate. Not overly impressive but by no means an idiot.

You do have to admit that he always had a solid showing in volleyball. You have seen him play volleyball, seen the plays he makes up on the fly, the way he strategizes. Oikawa is clever. His motivation entirely focused on being better at his sport. You suppose there is value in his talent there.

You stop that train of thought before it goes too far. You don’t want to think about Oikawa. You turn a vicious glare to your friend. It is her fault you were thinking about Oikawa in the first place. She catches your look and returns your glare with a confused furrow to her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Why are we talking about Oikawa again? I’m tired of hearing about him. He isn’t even that great.” Why do you sound so defensive?

Her cheeks turn dusty pink.

“I’m sorry--I didn’t even realize. Let’s go back to our work?”

You nod stiffly, shaking your thoughts away as you pick up your pen and go back to your homework.

============================================================= You stare at the grade at the top of the paper. You spent the last three days on this thing. How did you get such a crappy grade on it? You clench your fist, the paper crumpling under your hand. Your parents were going to be so disappointed. You always have struggled to keep up with their lofty expectations of you. It isn’t a conversation you are looking forward to having this evening over dinner.

You let out a deep sigh and sink down into your chair, your back hunching over and your shoulders coming up to create a barrier around you, a shield to protect you while you work through your thoughts and emotions. You try to tune out your classmates chattering while you steady your breathing. No point in being upset. You will just pick yourself back up, promise your parents you will try harder, and do just that. One mediocre grade isn’t the end of the world...right?

You exhale slowly as you sit back up properly, trying to appear casual as you scan the room around you to see if anyone saw your moment of weakness. Your gaze locks onto soft brown. You stare blankly at Oikawa for a few moments before turning back to your paper. You miss the curious look he gives as his eyes linger on you a little longer.

=============================================================

You hold onto the rusted metal chain as you swing slowly. You cancelled your afternoon study session, choosing to head to the park near your house instead. You wanted to kill time before the moment of reckoning when your parents ask how school was today. The last thing you needed was to be distracted by talk of Oikawa.

What you didn’t notice at that moment was the boy in question strolling past the park on his way home. By coincidence, he stops and glances over to see you on the swings, looking a little worse for wear mentally. It only takes him a moment to make his decision. He makes his way over to you, carefully as if to keep from scaring you away. He knows you don’t like him much but he can’t just ignore you when you look so sad.

You don’t notice his presence initially, the only thing alerting you to another person’s presence was the squeak of metal coming from the swing next to yours. Your head shoots up as you look around. The identity of your company throws you.

“Oikawa?” You sound incredulous.

“Yes?” He hums out in response as he pushes off to start the swing moving.

“Why are you here?” You flinch internally at the aggression in your tone. If Oikawa notices (he does), he doesn’t mention it.

“Well isn’t it obvious? I’m enjoying the swings.”

Your expression falls flat, your words tired.

“Oikawa, what do you want? I would like to be left alone.”

He brings his feet down abruptly, coming to a sudden stop and turning to watch you carefully.

“You want me to leave?”

You return his look warily.

“Do what you want.”

“Alright then.” He resumes his swinging. You think he is doing this just to frustrate you and it is working.

The two of you swing, the only sound breaking the silence was the squeak of rusted metal on metal, for about 5 minutes before Oikawa speaks again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pause.

“Talk about what? Nothing going on here. Nothing at all. Besides, even if there was something, why would I want to talk about it with you?”

He shrugs. “Impartial third party?”

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you have a volleyball to hit around? Or fangirls to charm?”

He shrugs again, choosing not to respond verbally this time, waiting for me to break, to talk to him. You tighten your lips into a straight line as you look across the park. Maybe if you refuse to engage with him, he will give up and go away. Another five minutes pass before you realize that he doesn’t plan to give up that easily.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” The venom that laced your words earlier had faded significantly. You just sound worn down now.

“Okay.” He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t care one way or the other.

You huff and slow your swing to a stop. You toe at the dirt as you collect your thoughts.

“Do you ever get tired of the expectations?” Your words are so quiet you weren’t even sure if you said them out loud. You must have because Oikawa’s attention immediately snaps to you. He doesn’t seem to need long to consider his answer.

“No.”

You weren’t sure if the answer you expected but it also didn’t surprise you.

“Why not? How do you handle it?”

This answer he contemplates for a few minutes. You wait patiently, just as he has for you through this whole interaction.

“Turn it into motivation, the extra push I need sometimes.” He hums softly, mulling over his words before he continues. “But--ultimately--the expectations of others shouldn’t matter.”

You scoff, of course he would make it seem that simple. “Sure.”

“Are you happy?”

The question catches you off guard and your mouth drops open as you stare at him dumbly.

“Well what does that even have to do with anything?”

“Well--if you are happy, the expectations shouldn’t matter as much, right? Take volleyball--”

You interrupt him with narrowed eyes and an irritated expression. “Does it have to be volleyball?”

He grins brightly in your direction. It’s disarming.

“Yes it does. Now listen. People have expectations of my skill, right?”

He pauses and looks to you for affirmation. You nod. He takes that to mean you are listening to him and continues.

“Well, sometimes, I will admit, it does get tiring. But, volleyball makes me happy. I practice and train to get better for my happiness, not theirs. These are my dreams on the line, not theirs. My happiness can’t hinge on their expectations.”

The words roll around in your brain as you try to comprehend what he was telling you. Did Oikawa just give you advice in a roundabout way? And decent advice at that? Silence settles around the two of you again before you stand, dusting off your skirt and turning to Oikawa.

“Okay.”

Confusion paints his features as he stands to join you.

“Okay?”

You nod resolutely. You feel ready to head home.

“Okay. I’m going to find my happiness.”

He looks surprised that you actually listened to him as you turn away from him and begin to walk away.

You stop about halfway to the entrance of the park before abruptly turning and stalking back in his direction. His confusion turns to concern as he watches you make your back over. Confusion turns to shock as you stand on your tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. You pat his face lightly over the spot your lips just left as you plant your heels back on the ground. You throw a few parting words over your shoulder with a small wave of your fingers.

“Thanks for the advice, Oikawa. I guess you aren’t as bad as I thought you were.”

Oikawa watches you go, a small, unsure smile on his features before it falls as he processes your words. You thought he was bad? Well that won’t do. He collects himself as he rushes off after you, determined to change your mind once and for all.

[saffronwritings]

C L U M S Y | S H I N S O U PT.3

S H I N S O U | P A R T  T H R E E (Final)

I let you down I've been clumsy with your heart again

C L U M Y  M A S T E R L I S T

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: This started off shorter and then I redid one of the segments and welp here we are at 4.3k words. Oops! It’s not favoritism I promise. This is the “final” part to Shinsou’s CLUMSY series! I really hope you all enjoy! I’ll make a post asking what you all want to see next! :) 

Denki couldn’t remember what time Shinsou told him to meet up with him after his training with Aizawa-sensei, so he figured he was going to just sit outside of the gym until he saw his purple haired friend exit the locker rooms. It had become almost routine for the two to have after school hangouts, mainly so Shinsou could relax after a long day. Kaminari helped fill the void that he felt without being able to see you. Though, Shinsou was guilty that it had distracted him from talking to you on occasion. While Kaminari was sporadic and chaotic, it helped ease the stress that Shinsou was constantly under.

 However, Kaminari was surprised when he noticed the gym door was left wide open. Usually when he had ventured over to this part of UA, he would notice that the doors were closed. A privacy thing so that the students didn’t feel pressured or on-lookers wouldn’t intimate the said student. Had Aizawa-sensei cancelled his practice with Shinsou for the day? He was acting very strange the entire course of the day. He was extra grumpy and even before coming to check in on his friend, he had particularly felt bad for Shinsou having to deal with his sensei’s foul mood.  

 Curiosity got the better of the blonde boy, Denki decided to peek inside the small private gym, the ones teachers used to mentor students in, only to see Shinsou standing against a wall with his face pale and expression shocked. Shinsou had looked like he had either seen a ghost or had been told someone close to him had died. This immediately made the blonde worry for his new friend.  He had looked around cautiously to see if Aizawa was still in the room. When it showed that it was only the two boys just sitting in absolute silence, that is when Kaminari decided to speak up to figure out what was going on.  “Oi Shinsou, is everything-” The blonde started to say before Shinsou let out a scream of frustration. It reverberated a chill down Kami’s spine, making him flinch back.  

Suddenly gym equipment started to fly across the room in haphazardly ways. His screams and shouts continued while he was heaving equipment left and right. “I’VE WORKED SO HARD.” Shinsou shouted in his fit of rage. “I HAVE WATCHED UNWORTHY STUDENTS SIT IN LUXURY.” Kaminari sat in a state of shock, watching his new friend seemingly lose his mind. He wanted to go and comfort his friend, but he was afraid he was going to lash out on him as well. He opted to just let him get all of his emotions out, even if it wasn’t in a healthy manner. “I PUSHED SO MANY PEOPLE AWAY FOR A SLIVER OF A CHANCE TO PROVE MYSELF.” He spewed again, not noticing the tears starting to stream down his face. He had thrown everything within a few feet radius as hard as he could across the smaller gym room. 

He had looked over to Kaminari who was just standing there awkwardly, watching him, judging him. However, Shinsou was so out of breath he wasn’t sure if he even had any energy left to yell at the blonde for looking at him with such pity in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on, dude, but maybe you should take a breather before you hurt yourself.” Kaminari spoke cautiously, trying to not provoke Shinsou further. “You don’t get to tell me when to calm down! You don’t understand, you’ve had the privilege to just BE in the hero course!” Shinsou shouted at him, his eyes filled with both tears and rage. “But, you’re doing so well with your training! You were just talking to the support class to design your new gear!” Kaminari still tried to direct the conversation in a positive manner. 

The two had just discussed how he was getting one of the girls in the support class to design a vocal chord changing mask. Kaminari was super blown away with the idea of being able to change voices in order to trick their opponents. While Shinsou might have lacked the psychical strength, he was always good at diverting and making a plan for success. “It doesn’t even matter now! Don’t you get it deadbolt!? I not only lost my shot at joining the hero course but I also lost the girl I loved by pushing her away for this opportunity” Shinsou’s voice strained out, it being raspy from screaming and shouting. 

The blonde’s eyes widened in shock, realizing the situation at hand in front of him. He was watching Shinsou have a breakdown because for some reason, he had lost his mentor-ship with Aizawa. “What? What happened? You were doing great with your training!” Denki had pointed out making Shinsou flinch in embarrassment from those words. “Don’t you think I know that?!” The purple haired boy cried, clutching his chest in desperate attempts to not let his heart fail him now. Kaminari had also picked up on his specific wording, the girl he loved. Had he gotten into a fight with you the night before? As far as he was concerned, the two of you were fine. You guys had plans to meet up after practice the prior day. 

“Can’t you just fix all of this then?” Kaminari’s comment made Shinsou turn very angrily towards him. “If I could, do you think I would make this big of a mess and yell so loudly? Do you think I would have gone into a fit of rage, destroying the gym if i could just FIX it? I can’t, you dumbass! I screwed up big time!” Shinsou cried out more, finally admitting his defeat. His knees crashed to the ground and he fell over onto his hands. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking down completely in front of Kaminari. 

Kaminari knelt down next to him, placing a gentle hand onto the boy's back. Shinsou wouldn’t have noticed though, his entire body felt numb. He felt like he was plunging into a sea of darkness, swarmed with all his insecurities and doubts that he was ever good enough in the first place for such opportunities. With each gasp of air he took, he could feel himself drowning further into the waters that flowed over him like a flooding hurricane. Everything he worked for, everything he was aiming for was now just stripped from him.

You always kept him afloat with positive words that always helped him breach the waters that tempted to drown him. Like a ripping current he was being dragged under so quickly it was hard to breath. Kaminari was full of panic himself, watching Shinsou progress in his panic attack without fully knowing what to do. He wasn’t like Kirishima who could easily bring comfort to those in states like this. The blonde was tempted to go get help from one of his other friends but he was afraid of leaving Shinsou alone. 

What had he done that had gotten him kicked from the mentoring program and had made him lose you?

…

“Stop right there, Shota.” Hizashi’s voice rang from down the hallway of the teacher’s lounge. Aizawa was still steaming with fury that he hadn’t noticed how far away from the training gyms he was. He came to a halt to see the older blonde glaring at him. “You took that way too far. I don’t know the extent of what your daughter said on the phone, but hurting Shinsou that badly wasn’t justified.” He started spewing, getting angrier through his sentence. Aizawa narrowed his eyes at his friend. “He broke her heart.” The tired teacher said through gritted teeth. “You didn’t hear how upset she was over the phone. I’ve heard her get like that once and that was after the USJ incident with the league of villains.”

“Teenagers go through breakups and fights all the time.” Hizashi tried to reason with him. “You don’t have a daughter, Hizashi.” Aizawa quickly countered. “You wouldn’t know what it’s like to hear your son or daughter call to you for help, sounding like they barely slept the night before.” Shota knew he was going way over the top, but if there was anything he would do, it was for the sake of his daughter.

His daughter wasn’t a planned idea, but there was nothing on the planet that Aizawa could love more. There was a reason he had made living arrangements and let little know about his daughter. The last thing he needed was for the league of villains to find out about you and to attempt to take you away from him. “No, but I know that you just crushed every hope that kid had for joining the hero course. Instead of punishing the poor kid who hasn’t been given a chance since he got here, why not help him out?” Hizashi started to try and reason with him.

“Help him out? After he hurt my daughter?” Aizawa growled through his gritted teeth. He could feel the headache forming in his temples from the day. He spent it so angrily, so filled to the brim with frustration. It was like he was getting hit multiple times in the chest with blow after blow. “You don’t even know what happened between the two! For all you know it could have been a misunderstanding. The last thing you want is for there to be no hope for your daughter to be able to make things up with the boy because you scarred him.” 

For once, Hizashi had a really good point. As much as it pained him to agree with the obnoxious blonde, he knew he was right. “I’m sure your daughter would appreciate the effort set forth by you.” He continued to push, making a groan leave Aizawa’s throat. “Fine, fine. If it will get you off my back, and if you really think this is a good idea, then I’ll go make things right. If not, I will not hesitate to hang you over a pool of sharks.” Aizawa threatened, making Hizashi smile widely at him. 

Hizashi treaded lightly behind Aizawa to make sure he would stay true to his word. The last thing he needed was for the man to slump over and fall asleep before missing his chance to fix things with Shinsou. He didn’t want to tell Aizawa, because he knew it would make him feel even worse about the situation, but he knew Shinsou had a soft spot for Eraserhead. The way the kid watched in admiration whenever he would explain something to the student said volumes. 

Aizawa was not happy about having to be the one to confront the boy who broke his daughter’s heart. Damn that loud mouthed Hizashi for bringing his daughter into the mix. He knew he was right but that didn’t make him any less happy about the situation. In no time flat he made it back to the gym only to notice that things were strewn about. Weights were all over the place, the sparring matt was upright against a wall instead of on the ground. He noticed Kaminari next to Shinsou, kneeled over and rubbed circles into Hitoshi’s back. He almost felt bad when he heard the soft sobbing that came from the hunched over boy. Until he took into account what he had done to his daughter.

Aizawa crossed the room and pointed for Denki to leave. The electric blonde did not hesitate to question his teacher’s instruction and left the gym quickly. Aizawa squatted down to Shinsou’s level and put a hand on his back. “Get up, kid.” He said in a husky voice, before standing up. Shinsou’s eyes shot open and his head shot up to look at him. Surprise and confusion flooded his face as he wasn’t sure why the teacher of class 1-A had come back to him. 

“Kaminari, if you don’t scram from eavesdropping from around the corner I will not hesitate to flunk you on your next upcoming exam.” Aizawa shouted loud enough so that his lingering student could hear. Both Aizawa and Shinsou heard shoes scuttling away from the door and down the hallway. He was about to tell Hizashi the same thing, but Shinsou had interrupted his thought process by saying, “Why did you come back?” Shota had noted his tone was defeated, and almost filled with hopelessness. 

“I was too harsh, I was overcome with my own emotions of protecting my daughter and lashed it out on you. You are a bright student and one that deserves a second shot.” Aizawa started to explain, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was your daughter? I had been dating her for well over a year. You had to know what you were signing up for when taking me on as my mentor.” Shinsou questioned quickly, obviously still very confused from the situation. 

“I wanted to make you a hero good enough to protect her.” Aizawa admitted, shaking his head at his own thoughts. “I don’t know what you said to her to make her so upset she called me crying, but you need to fix it. However, being my daughter, she’s a stubborn headed mess. If I personally don’t help you, you may not have a shot of fixing it.” Shinsou’s eyes lit up with just a tad bit of hope. “You’re helping me?” Shinsou’s voice came out in a whisper. “In this regard, yes. If you think I’m going to be cleaning your mess here, you are sorely mistaken.” Aizawa said, however, Shinsou could hear a bit of playfulness in his tone.

…

You had been tempted to try and communicate with Shinsou after the blow-up the two of you had. However, judging on the last text you sent him, he had your number blocked. Even if he had unblocked your number, wouldn’t he have tried to reach out and make things better? This wasn’t the first quarrel the two of you had, obviously not to this degree. It had never gone on this long. The realization dawned on you the night before you were supposed to get together with your father, that maybe Shinsou was serious about not wanting you around while he went through his training. 

It didn’t help lessen the blow in the slightest bit. It felt like someone was stepping on your chest and every time you felt like maybe you had some semblance of a grasp on your own emotions, the foot would step down harder. You felt crippled without Shinsou in your life. Your phone felt like it had less purpose, even if you had texted a few of your other friends to attempt to try and fill in the void that Shinsou had left. You had missed the late night texts, staying up video calling with him and seeing the sleep slip further from his eyes during his studies. Your grades this past week alone had slipped quite quickly as you were unable to focus on a single word a teacher was saying. 

Your zombielike state had concerned not only your teachers, your classmates, but also your mother. While you tried to let it seem like it wasn’t bothering you that you had lost your best friend, you knew that your mother knew you better than that. What was worse was that she was probably keeping your father up to date on the current situation. You hadn’t informed either of your parents the details of your breakup with Hitoshi, and you hadn’t planned on it. The last thing you or your family needed was your father in jail for attempting to murder a minor. 

When the weekend came around, you were half-tempted to cancel on your plans with your father. You wanted nothing more than to accept the warm embrace your bed was giving you. While it was dragging you further into your pit of despair it was at least comforting. When your phone buzzed on your nightstand you weighed the options of just going back to sleep, you knew your father was persistent and would call over and over until you woke up. For a man who was tired all the time, he didn’t understand why teenagers sleep so much over weekend breaks. Groaning, you gathered all your strength to sit up in your bed and reach over to answer your phone. 

“We are still on for the movies today, right kiddo?”  Your father’s voice chimed not even a second after you had picked up the phone. “I was actually thinking of maybe a rain check?” You tried to push, but you could already feel him rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone. “I know you being a teenager and you probably aren’t even out of bed yet, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s not raining.” Sarcasm dripped from his lips and you wanted nothing more than to hang up and turn your phone off. You were in no mood for his antics for the day. 

“I’m just not feeling up to going today, papa.” You whispered after there was silence between the two. “I figured you would feel that way. Your mother has mentioned how you have been practically among the living dead this last week.” He recounted, making you curse under your breath for knowing your mother all too well. You had hoped that maybe, just this once she was going to keep things to herself. You should have known better. “I already bought the tickets ahead of time, and I’m not taking Hizashi or your mother.” Your father warned.

“Fine, I’ll get ready. I’ll meet you at the train station?” You sighed in defeat, knowing you would not win this battle. “Sounds good to me.” He said, before both of you hung up your phones. 

…

You stood at the entrance of the train station, checking your phone a few times to make sure that your dad hadn’t texted you that he was running late. You had attempted to call him twice already and he hadn’t picked up on either attempt. A sigh escaped your lips, wishing that you had just stood your ground on staying home and sleeping the weekend away. “Y/N?” If you hadn’t been frozen in place before, the voice you had memorized locked your feet into place. Suddenly your heart was racing immensely too fast and the wind felt like it was knocked clean out of your lungs. 

It wasn’t even fair, the way fate had played out for you this day. Not only did you dress in just leggings and a baggy hoodie, you had chosen a hoodie that you only now registered had belonged to Shinsou. Cursing your father for following through with your request for father daughter time, you finally looked up at the purple haired boy who seemed almost sheepish. He was wearing that cursed bomber jacket that you always loved on him, a simple t shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. In other words, he at least looked a million times more decent than you had. Not to mention your hair was thrown haphazardly into a messy bun and god knows you had dark circles developing under your eyes with your lack of sleep you had gotten last week. 

“You know out of the two of us for once I think you win in the department of needing some extra weekend sleep.” Shinsou tried to ease himself into conversation with you. The tension in the air was so thick that you were sure that you were suffocating on it. You had so many questions and so many emotions flooding you at once. Your mind was swirling like you were stuck on a teacup ride that you were trapped on. When Shinsou noticed your lack of response to his statement, he returned back to his awkward state of trying to figure out how to make things go back to normal. 

Anything would be better than this killer silence. He hated that it looked like you hadn’t slept in over a week and hated it even more than he was the one that caused you to be like this. His guilt was suffocating him for ever causing you this much pain for being so selfish. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and to soothe your pains away. If it hadn’t been for Aizawa he wouldn’t have even been here. He would still be in his dorm, beating himself up for ever letting this distance drift you two so far apart. 

“If we don’t hurry, we are going to miss our movie.” Shinsou settled on saying, before turning to walk towards the direction of the movie theater. You whipped your head up so fast in confusion, trying to stammer out a sentence that made any sense. “Wha- I mean I’m here to meet with my dad.” You finally uttered, grabbing on his jacket sleeve to get him to stop walking. Immediately, Shinsou had reverted back to his nervous nature around you like he had once done when the two of you first started dating. 

“Your father gave me the tickets and wanted me to take you out as a way to apologize for my irrational behavior. I should have never snapped at you like I did or acted as immature as I did. I can’t even begin to imagine how it was for you to just be waiting for any kind of affection on my end. I blew you off after an entire month of not seeing you. I probably made it seem like I wasn’t as excited to see you, but I was too focused on my own stupidity to realize what was right in front of me.” He blurted out quickly, stepping closer into your own proximity. “I don’t deserve any kind of forgiveness, but if I didn’t try, I’m pretty sure Aizawa-sensei would personally either kick my ass or expel me.”

You were listening intently until Shinsou had mentioned your father’s last name. “Aizawa-sensei?” You reiterated, raising a shocked eyebrow at him. “Yeah, I was surprised too when I found out. I almost lost my entire chance at getting into the hero course all together because of how pissed he was at me for hurting you.” Shinsou murmured quietly. If your jaw wasn’t open in shock before, it surely was now. Had Shinsou not been standing right in front of you currently you probably would have called your father and chewed him out for his brash behavior. 

However, your heart swelled when thinking about how your father had stepped in to try and fix things between you and Shinsou. It must have been why he was so insistent on you coming to meet with him today. You had to remember to shoot him a text later calling him out on his conniving ways. “I know it’s probably embarrassing, your father stepped in on the situation, but honestly if it wasn’t for him I would have never had the courage to do this.” He said, grabbing your hand to hold in his own without hesitation. His hands were ice cold like they always had been, sending a chill up your spine. 

“I wanted to be a hero that you could be proud of but instead I turned into a selfish loser-” He continued, that is until you grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled his lips into your own. The chaste kiss made the nervousness melt away from both you and Shinsou. He relaxed into your touch, snaking his arms around your waist. You kissed him like you were afraid you would never get to kiss him again. When you were laying in your bed days after your fight you wanted nothing more than to be in the purple haired boys embrace. You had feared the last time you had seen him, the month before, was the last happy memory of being together. The time he had finally told you he loved you and the last time you two brushed your lips against one another's. 

Tears flowed down your cheeks when the two of you had pulled away, gasping for breaths. You felt dizzy from all the overwhelming emotions you were thrown through but you wouldn’t give anything up for this moment right here. For the boy you loved more than yourself to be in front of you. He cupped your face and wiped the tears that were escaping your eyes with his calloused fingers. “I’m here, and I am not going anywhere this time. I will fight everyday to be the hero you need me to be. I love you more than anything and I hate that I had to destroy something so beautiful to realize it.” Shinsou stated, pressing his forehead against your own. You nodded while sniffling, desperately grasping your hands onto his shirt. 

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into your embrace and he welcomed this touch. He ran his hand over your head and rubbed circles into your back. You couldn’t see but Shinsou had also started silently into your hoodie, getting intoxicated by your scent. 

Aizawa smiled to himself to see the two of you entangled in each other’s embrace at the entrance of the train station. People were walking by without having the slightest of a clue as to what was going on between the two. Aizawa took out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of you in your loving embrace. You’d probably scold him for it later, but he knew you would appreciate it later in years. He would chew out Shinsou once again on Monday, before following it up with the news of participating in Class 1-A and Class 1-B’s field training. Then warning him if he ever hurt you again he wouldn’t get off so easy. However, for now, he headed back to Heights Alliance to give you two the space you desperately needed. 

To be continued...? 👀

[Part One] [Part Two]

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