#stupid triangle and idiot square

[zombiedeers]

Oh! Since I posed the Anti-Pines designs, here have these humanoid designs I made for both canon Bill and Anti-Bill ! I'm super proud of how they turned out too :]

The darkest parts on their outfits are actually meant to be black, but i tinted it with their colours for aesthetic reasons

[mesopotamism]

Carve (Choi Su Bong AKA Thanos x Reader)

You never expected to see him again – but if it had to happen, you never expected it to be here. (PREVIOUS FRIENDS -> STRANGERS/ONE-SIDED ENEMIES -> FRIENDS AGAIN -> LOVERS)

tw: mentions of blood, a knife, hospitals, references to mental illness, mentions of psychiatric care, mentions of non prescription meds LOL, metaphor of an injury, it’s set in squid games so that is kinda expected.

(WHERE ARE MY FREAK NASTY TOUCH STARVED BITCHES. MENTALLY ILL POS DRUGGIE LOVERS RISEEEEE)

Chapter 1: 2.6k words

The stinging, antibacterial smell of tile was something you were all too used to. You couldn’t even find it in you to feel surprised, at first, waking up in that godforsaken room; encased by beds all around you, the walls a white and green pattern that was far too cheerful for the situation.

Even here, with all these other losers, you scoffed at their stupidity as they stood, looking around in shock. Anyone who thought that signing up for an undisclosed game for money was going to put them in a safe situation is deluded, you thought. Anyone who didn’t feel a sense of dread upon seeing the gray van pull up to the meeting point, in the dark, alone, their breath freezing in the air…was an idiot.

The same numb feeling encased you now, seeing that your clothes had been stripped of you and replaced, along with your belongings, as it had encased you when you saw the narcoleptic gas billowing from the car vents last night. Maybe it was the all-too-sterile environment around you that comforted you, knowing that blood had been spilt already, and you would not be the first. All in all; you weren’t surprised by anything that had happened in the last 24 hours. Playing stupid games, winning stupid prizes, it all didn’t matter when the only other alternative was to end it all.

Curiosity pricked your mind, however, when personnel emerged, wearing masks, each adorned with a shape. The shapes differed – some had a triangle, some a square – but all of them wore the same, uniform, pink tracksuit.

You climbed down from the bunk bed, eyes squinting from the light bouncing intensely off the bright white and green walls. You knew you should focus on the personnel, but their pink clothes hurt your eyes the worst. Everything was in too much color.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome,” the front guard, wearing a square mask, began. As he tried to begin, shouts of dissent erupted from the crowd.

“Hey, where are my clothes?”

“Did you drug us? In that van?!”

“Where are our phones? I need to text my parents - they don’t know I’m here…”

If you have a family, why be here? Why resort to something as hopeless as this? You thought. You focused on the ground, trying to avoid the color bursting from around you - but even your sneakers were squeaky white and clean.

Out of the sea of people, a complaint stood out to you from them all.

“What about my shoes? Those were limited fucking edition!”

For the first time, from the time you were smacked in the face by a man in a suit who offered you money to play a children’s game, to being drugged in a van and waking up in this sterile bell-jar, a shudder of shock ran down your body, freezing to the bottom of your spine.

“All of your belongings are being kept safely. They will be returned to you once the games are over.”

“And what if something happens to them, huh?! You gonna pay for them?”

“Like I said, all belongings, including clothes, shoes, electronics, and anything else, will be returned after the games.”

“You motherf—”

The screen above the guard flashed to life, showing a video clip of that violet-haired idiot staring at the screen with challenge flashing in his eyes, taking a hit from his blue and yellow vape.

It really was him.

“--Player 230, Choi Su-Bong, debt of 1.9 billion won.”

Your shock had faded slightly from that point, and resignation had taken its place. It was unlikely to see him here, but yes – very like him to do. That fucking idiot.

“Kim Hyun Ju, debt of 1.2 billion won. Kang Mi-na, debt of 850 million won.”

As the guard continued to name and berate each person who had spoken up, you turned your head in the direction of where that idiots’ shout had come from.

A shock of violet carved into your vision through the sea of brown and black hair. You couldn’t help it - you stared. Even after being humiliated, his eyebrows raised sharply in challenge, his lips somewhere between a pout and a grimace, like a petulant child. His hand messed absently with the zipper at the top of his green tracksuit, and – as if the amount of color wasn’t enough – his nails were painted an array of bright colors.

You studied his hand as it twitched absently on the zipper. You could recognize his hands just as easily as his face. They were hard to miss, as he never talked without waving them around in ridiculous, emphatic expressions, or without holding a substance to his mouth. The vein that trailed up the back of his right hand disappeared into the green cuff of his jacket, and you knew – you could picture – where it continued to go, and where it ended, under the fabric.

His hand stilled. You shifted your gaze back up to his face, to find him looking back at you.

You fixed your expression into one of indifference as fast as possible, but you knew your eyes had given you away. You turned your eyes back to the front as naturally as possible, forcing your neck to slow the movement and appear natural. Your heart rate raised slightly, and you knew Su-bong too well to doubt that his eyes were definitely burning through the back of your head.

The guard began to talk about the games themselves, drawing your attention back to the front. The guards ordered people into lines to sign the consent forms, and you shifted idly to your right to suit a line. As you crept up to the front, you saw out of the corner of your eye the same unkempt violet hair swaggering to the front of the line, as player 124 grabbed player 333 by the shoulder next to him.

“The amazing Myung-gi from MG Coin? Right?” 124 spoke.

“...Who are you?” you heard 333 ask him nervously.

“You may not know me, but I know you, MG Coin,” Thanos spoke up. “I was subscribed to your channel.”

You can see Su-Bong shift closer to 333, who backs nervously away by a step.

“And I lost a shitload of money, asshole,” Thanos’ voice drops as he sidles closer to 333.

“As did I,” 124 chimed in.

You couldn’t help but have the edge of your mouth quirk up a bit. It made complete sense that Thanos would lose everything to something as brainless as a crypto scam. At least he wasn’t the only one – his new groupie was now eyeing the scammer with the same predatory smile.

“...You’ve got the wrong person,” 333 responded unconvincingly, trying to walk past them. Thanos pressed a large hand firmly to 333’s shoulder, holding him in place.

Good fucking luck, dude, you thought out to the scammer – player 333. Not only was he the smallest of the three, but it was clear from Su-bong’s body language that he was still as apt to pick a fight as he used to be. In highschool and college, he only ever won fights more than half the time – and usually, that had been from enlisting more groupies, as player 124 had turned into now – but whether he lost or won, he never lost the pettiness and gall needed to elicit one.

“I watched your content all day, every day,” Thanos continued. “Now I even see you in my dreams, motherfucker.”

He set his elbow on 124’s shoulder.

“Your name is Nam-su, right?”

“-Gyu, Nam-gyu, remember? From Club Pentagon.”

“Ah, right, right,” Su-bong responded airily.

You jerked your attention from them, read the consent form diligently, and quickly marked your name. Forcing your head away from the child’s fight Thanos was picking, you hung at the back of the room, waiting for new directions. You thought about how he had met your eyes earlier, and couldn’t help the stab of bitterness you felt that he hadn’t indicated his recognition since.

You took a deep breath of the sterilized air, and closed your eyes. For a second, you were happy to imagine yourself back between those white walls, the beeping of machines, the creak of those old hospital doors opening and shutting. When you wiggled your toes, you could almost imagine the feel of the tile on your sock-clad feet. The only sort of freedom you got in a place like that – to walk around in just socks.

“Señorita, excuse me,”

Your head snapped up, meeting his eyes. Close. He was so colorful, and so close. He raised his hands to his chest, pressing his palms against himself.

“Not gonna say hi?”

“You didn’t,” you reply as evenly as possible. He hadn’t really done anything, and he already felt like a thorn lodged under your skin.

He scoffed, switching back to Korean, his voice taking on his usual air of petulance.

“Hey, you saw me first. You were watching me pretty hard…” he dipped his voice, and you made yourself stay still as he leaned closer. The scent of his body hit you like a ton of bricks, carved through you like glass. Just how it used to be. The faint, sour scent of man-made stimulants and hallucinogens. A cologne far too macho and expensive for his style, or his bank account. Coupled with the perfumed smell of hair product, he travelled coolly through your sinuses, filling your head with the heady scent of him, him, him.

“It’s hard to miss you with that nauseating fucking dye job,” you say bitterly, and he laughs.

“Wow, so mean,” he says, clutching his chest and bending his knees so his face is level with yours. “You’re not still hung up on-”

“--Attention, players. Please line up and follow the path into the hallway as marked. Player identity photos will be taken before the first game begins.”

You brush past him, clipping him with your shoulder as you do so. You hear player 124 ask him a question, but if Thanos responds, you don’t hear. You file into the middle of the line, away from the way he overwhelmed every sense you had.

…….

The hallways were even worse than the dorm. You reminded yourself to feel grateful for the white linoleum when you went back later as you messed with the end of your braid. As you observed everyone lining up to take their photos in a line of booths, commotion and grumblings of discomfort arised from over your right shoulder. You turned your head to see Thanos and Nam-gyu pushing their way ahead in line.

He stopped when he pushed far enough to be in line with you, rolling his shoulders back as he swaggered. You saw him look at you from your periphery – you could even see his jaw work and roll. God knows how much dental work he’s gotten from substance abuse at this point. His underbite was definitely slightly worse than you remember. You ignored his gaze.

“What’s going on with you? No hello for your old frie-”

A lanky, sharp-featured man appeared from a line over from Su-bong, peeking over his shoulder.

“You’re Thanos, the rapper,” the man said lowly. Thanos looked him up and down in surprise.

“Oh, shit!” the man said in surprise, bursting into one of Thanos’ verses. He pointed at Thanos knowingly. “The runner up from the Rap Battleground Final!”

Thanos’ expression turned to face forward, closing off from you. As everyone shuffled forward in line, you stole a glance at him. His expression was pained, distant.

The man persisted. “I’m Gyeong-su, big fan. I’ve been to several of your concerts, please take a picture with me…” the man begged quickly as Thanos started to step towards the photo booth. Many other people felt comfortable approaching after Gyeong-su had, and they chimed in.

“Me too!”

“Me too, please!”

It didn’t take any sort of feat to see the way Su-bong’s expression brightened with confidence and ego, but it made your heart twist all the same, seeing him try to fix his face and pretend to be irritated by their request instead of elated. It reminded you of who he was before, when he’d been himself, not this caricature of Su-Bong – Thanos – standing before you.

Nevertheless, nostalgia hit you seeing him not-so-humbly accept a photo with the players, and you felt faint surprise at how many people continued to push past you to join in, even more that young adults still remembered who this washed-up rapper was.

Suddenly, Su-bong’s head turned, his cool brown eyes meeting yours. He extracted his hand from the herd of crowded bodies, beckoning towards you with two fingers curling towards himself. He jerked his head to the space next to him.

“Hey, I don’t mind having one more person.”

You raised your eyebrow in slight offense.

“Come on,” he encouraged again in English, turning his fingers up and back to the floor, as if he expected you to comply with ease.

A ding sounded from in front of you, and you released the end of your braid, turning to see a guard beckoning you in to take your photo. You rolled your eyes at Thanos’ offer and walked into the booth, missing his slightly deflated expression. As you emerged a moment later, you caught the end of 124 ushering the other players away from the rejected photo, just soon enough to catch Thanos raising his hands to flip off the camera. The way his lip curled was so reminiscent of his stage mannerisms, you had to look away.

Was it bad, you thought to yourself, that he was throwing you off more than the scent of antibacterial liquid masking blood had in that dormitory? That his voice set you more at unease than the modulated ones behind masks? Or was it simply your body adjusting to the whiplash that was experiencing someone again that once had been normal, and yet had long ceased to be?

“I’ve got five days to bother you, I’ll get you to talk,” he commented as he sidled up to you, running his palms over the flat sides of his bright hair. You glanced up, catching his profile as he fell into step with you. For once, he didn’t turn to face you, instead pretending to be fixated on seeing what lay ahead in the hallway. Although, he didn’t need to look back at you; the sight of his upturned smirk told you enough. It nauseated you. Or, maybe it was just the sickening amount of color and detail about him that sickened you. His violet fucking hair, spiked like he’d rolled out of bed – the thick black tattoo that ran from his neck, to his hand, and disappeared down his back – his fingernails, painted neon, individually, with care – that heady scent of powdered drugs and rich cologne – even his pooling brown eyes that threatened to fool you, weaken you. If anyone was to make someone feel sick through experience alone, it’d be him, you thought bitterly. He cut through reason like a knife, and carved his name on you like he deserved to own everything. After all of these years, you felt him again, in the last place you wanted. Running a blade over the long-faded scars of where his name was once etched into your traitorous, weak soul.

(I’ve written fics for YEARS but never posted on tumblr! Sorry the format is jank - but if literally one person reads this I’ll die happy. THANKS LOVE Y’ALL)

[liffy-feelin-jiffy]

Coroika Gorai headcanons

Rider had typically been more closed off about his sexuality, for reasons he decided to keep to himself as they mostly originate from insecurities, but also because he actually hadn’t known he genuinely likes guys the way he thought he liked girls for the longest time in his life. It wasn’t until he was 15 in a half, and having gotten to know Goggles a lot more at the time did he realize that he likes guys in more ways he initially thought he did. It didn’t help when the devastating realization came to him that he had a crush on a specific blue idiot boy… a hard crush as a matter of fact. Like, I’m talking head over heels kind of stuff, Spiderverse Gwen syndrome. Mans is tripping on his own feet because he can’t stop thinking about that scatterbrain for the life of him. Goggles is in every corner of his mind, he’s in the reflections in the windows of the subway, his bubbly laughs can be heard through the soft breeze like bird song. Rider always looks at the Pilot Goggled buffoon’s empty hands, willing everything in himself not to take it and intertwine their fingers together like thread sewing fabric, and he clenches his own hands into tight fists whenever he’s away from him and the thought of hand holding comes to mind. He’s so in love, he wants to kiss that stupid little weirdo’s face it’s making him look like the biggest dumbass that’s ever been born-

Sorry I got a little too into it there I guess. Whether you wanna take all that seriously or not is your choice of poison.

Anyways, yeah, once Rider finds out he’s literally in love with the squid who deadass flashed him to the public during their first match back in the Plaza, it’s not going so well for him. Why in the world would he start getting all blushy and feely for that absolute moron? What possessed him into developing feelings for that over-ecstatic boy with tentacles as blue as the shining sea? With a goofy smile so bright that it rivals the very sun? With such inspiring optimism that Rider can only dream of possessing-

😑

Oh, who was he kidding.

What makes it worse is that his crush on Goggles actually started back when he was teaching blue team how to train to fight against Skull, hence adding onto his seemingly territorial behavior on Gogs when Skull eagerly said he wanted to fight team blue again. Jealous much? Lmao. It gets even funnier when he and Goggles both end up crushing on Skull too BAHAHA (I believe in fixing love triangles/squares with the power of POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIPS. SKULLAMIGORAI FOR LIFE���🏻✊🏻✊🏻✊🏻)

For the longest time he tried to repel what he considered were “intrusive thoughts” of Goggles. He’d try gaslighting himself that he’s someone Goggles would never find that kind of interest in; maybe he already has someone else, like a guy or girl, he’s bi after all, isn’t he? He and Goggles would never work anyways, Rider’s personality was too serious to match with Goggle’s boisterous and colorful character even though he’d be willing to undergo any more bullsquit imaginable if it meant he’d get to spend the rest of his days with the blue buffoon. He doesn’t see him that way, they wouldn’t mesh well together, Goggles deserved to have someone nicer than he was, etc.

This kept going on for a little while, until eventually Aloha finds out—it’s a long story—and accidentally rats Rider out to his sister and momma—that’s an even longer story, and they both enthusiastically try to coerce him into confessing from there.

Aloha: “You should write him a song and play it for him-!”

Rider: “Bitch heeeeell no”

Rider’s mom: “why not make him something? Like bake a cake or a pie for him as a gift”

Rider: “did you forget what happened last time? what happened to having me banned from using the oven???”

This was all meanwhile Goggles was actually having a secondary crisis of his own. Not the extent Rider had, but all through the Turf War and Ranked Battle Tournaments to his journey with Sheldon to find the treasure, he’d been quite distracted needless to say.

Compared to Rider, Goggles was plenty more laid back and wasn’t shy about his sexuality, though he didn’t ever tell anyone his sexual/romantic orientation that much, so it lead to everyone believing that he was a gay squiddo—though he was really bi and had an equal preference for both boys and girls. There’s still not a lot of people who know he’s bi because he never tells anybody, and if he ever does it would be like discovering rare dialogue in a video game. Even though he has little interest in pursuing a love life, he still kinda had some hope in finding that special someone that he would get to spend the rest of his life with. He tried one time with a girl back in Inkopolis plaza (before the events of the manga) but it ended kinda rocky and he kinda tried to distance himself from relationships for a while until he moved on and kinda just went like “if it happens, it happens.”

Again, his crush was more mellow compared to Rider’s, or at least it started out mellow before eventually growing into a deep sweet longing for his companionship. Goggle’s crush started off typical, thinking that Rider was all handsome, strong, total dreamboat kinda guy. After they’d gotten to know each other some more, and upon moving to the Square did Goggles really have a thing for him. Even the rest of the blue team began to notice. His interest in him peaked when Rider stopped him before his battle against Team Emperor and told him “watch the next semi finals match closely. Because you’re gonna be facing against me in the finals.”

Can you tell that these are my favorite panels because ho mine gosh

Goggles wasn’t as insecure as Rider was in terms of self esteem, but he also came up with the thoughts that Rider wouldn’t see him like that, too. He even worried that Rider would’ve been disgusted if he told him 😭. He wanted to at least keep their friendship together so he was just like “I like you a lot and I admire you to no end but I understand that it may never really come to that so I’ll just support you and admire you for all your grace from afar. 😁”

Hope you enjoyed this cuz now I’m eepy and I’m gonna take a nap. I’ve got college now and I didn’t get enough sleep last night because my adhd will never love me.

(Edited a few things in here. Hope you like the changes better!)

[thefourchimes]

so i have a funny realization

between these two groups

these two idiotic and stupid groups whom my friend and i love very much

let me list down some familiar things and details though:

one girl has a girl best friend who dies

one guy is a former "bully" who stopped and just wanted to not be like that anymore

one guy is pinning over his childhood friend but is keeping the fact that he likes her to himself

one girl is a quiet person who is misinterpreted to be cold and just "focused" on academics

the two guys have chemistry and banter with each other and have actual scenes that may be taken in a very gay way

same with the two girls, except it started with a rivalry sort of sense

one of the girls is "different" for one reason or another but one guy and the other girl never gives up on her

after that one girl's best friend dies, the other girl slowly became her girl best friend in the process of the show

there's a weird love triangle-square thing going on

one of the main human antagonists is an absolute ass, has a mullet, and has the rivalry (aka the want to kill and almost does kill) towards one of the guys

one girl and one guy have never properly "interacted and got close to one another", at least hopefully not yet

forced together by outside life threatening forces

now, here's the real question

am i talking about the main four of st or the main four of aouad?

who knows! <3

[pwnyta]

tell me about lost in general bc i watched it vaguely as it was releasing but i was. a child. and never rewatched it and i love learning abt media secondhand through ppl who are rlly into it bc i always learn things in variable order or with immense biases. :)c

THATS SO MUCH RESPONSIBILITY!!! THERES SO TO EXPLAIN!!!

Well obviously.... LOST is about a bunch of survivors of a plane that crashed on a mysterious spooky island and happenings HAPPEN & shenanigans ensue but the story is so twisty turny there is no way I could possibly explain...

BUT I WILL TALK ABOUT MY BLORBOS!!!

FROM MY SHOW!!!

We'll get these three dumbasses outta the way. In order-

Jack. Hes a doctor and the main guy of the series.

Kate. Shes a criminal. The main girl of the series

Sawyer. Hes way better then the other two also a criminal the rival love interest for Kate.. hes gruff. Hes smarmy. he makes insensitive jokes about people. He gets a way more interesting story than the other two. Hes like Daryl Dixon from TWD except actually hot and not stupid as hell. Theyre basically the same guy.

The tension between these 3 fuckin idiots is SO played out. None of this is Kates fault but her character is made significantly worse when this love triangle turned love... square when Juliet gets added later. Jack gets with both Kate and Juliet at some point and theyre both way more interesting with basically anyone else. Including Sawyer!!!

This is all Jacks fault. As per usual.

Jacks claim to fame- Being wrong... all the god damn time. So much that he does is just not correct. Except being nice to Sayid. That is always correct.

Kates Claim to fame- Bein bogged down by fuckin love interests and being an immediately better character when not around them. Especially when shes with Claire.

Sawyers Claim to fame- Bein a redneck guy.

Sun and Jin. Sun is the daughter of some shady business man and Jin, because he loves Sun, ends up working for her father and their life kinda spirals for a bit NGL but they get SOOOO much better.

MY BABIES.... DO NOT SEPARATE THEM.

Sun and Jin are so fucking good its actually crazy. Initially Jin was gonna just get killed off for bein a bastard but (presumably) the writers were like 'Are we really gonna waste DANIEL DAE KIM like that? Are we being so for real? Have you seen him???' And they changed their minds and Sun and Jin are both so precious and I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I DONT WANNA SPOIL THINGS BUT I LOVE THEM. Theyre hands scene.... I WILL CRY FOREVER.

Suns Claim to fame- Crackin Ben in the dome cuz she REASONABLY didnt believe him! Jack could never.

Jins Claim to fame- Being found in the woods occasionally by world weary friends and instantly making theyre day better.

Walt and Michael...

I think what happened here is Walt grew too quickly for the show and he just sorta got let go... which left Michael with NOT MUCH ELSE TO DO.

BUT THE WRITERS DID THIS MAN SO FUCKING DIRTY ITS INSANE. The fandom too! Walt gets kidnapped by some dudes AT GUN POINT. AT SEA!!! AND NO ONE FUCKING CARED... EXCEPT MICHAEL. But people got REAL MAD at Michael for everything he did after in desperation to get his son back. MICHAEL DID NOTHING WRONG(except for all the wrongs he did but we forgive him.)

Michaels relationship with Sun & Jin was great. First there was a thing with Sun and Jin... and then Sun with Michael... and then Jin and Michael (A wild and adorable friendship holy shit)...

Anyways Michael deserved better KEEP MY WIFES NAME OUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH. Wasting Harold Perrineau... Imma watch OZ instead THATLL SHOW YOU.

Walts Claim to fame- Bein a lil cutie pie of like 5 minutes & then getting kicked off the show for growing like 12 feet an hour (speculation)

Michaels Claim to fame- Ruining Hurleys date & becoming Sun and Jins boyfriend.

Charlie and Claire! Charlie is drug addict member of the band DRIVE SHAFT! Claire is a pregnant lady whos secretly something to someone else but we wont get into it.

They are sometimes cute sometimes cursed Claire deserves better and NOT PENNYS BOAT STILL MAKES ME CRY. GOOD BYE.

Charlies Claim to Fame- Putting his hand on glass and devastating a community of innocent fans.

Claires Claim to Fame- Taking care of 'Aaron' IYKYK

Sayid has such a cursed life... if anyone has watched VLD... its worse than what they did to Shiro. People he loves keeps dying, hes forced to kill people, every time he gets hurt he looks up with his big sad brown eyes and says he deserves it. he tries so hard to be a good man... WHY DO THINGS KEEP HAPPENING TO HIM.

Claim to fame- His big sad brown eyes and his luscious curls... and that time he snapped a mans neck with his ankles after he was tied up and beaten and held at gun point... As one does.

And then theres THIS fuckin freak... JOHN LOCKE.

His dad stole his kidney and threw him out a window paralyzing him from the waist down and he acts completely normal because of that throughout the rest of the show. (HES PHENOMENAL.)

Claim to fame- DONT EVER TELL ME WHAT I CANT DO!!!!!

Then theres HUGO. BEST BOY!!!! Hes basically the only normal person on this entire island. Sometimes bad things happen to him THROUGH NO FAULT OF HIS OWN OH MY GOD PLEASE BE NICE TO HIM.

Claim to fame- HURLEY HUGS!!!! GOLLY HE HUGS SO MANY PEOPLE AND THEYRE ALL HAPPY ABOUT IT!!! EVEN MILES! And Miles could find a way to complain about ANYTHING.

-----

Those are like the MAIN GUYS.

WHO THE HELL IS NIKKI!? We just dont know.

But have some important other guys~

DESMOND AND PENNY....

(me blubbering and bawling)

Claim to fame- (I just continue pointing and crying) CHARLIEEEE

BEN LINUS!!!

I know I called John a freak but heres John bigger freak of a boyfriend/tormentor/tormentee... This mans name is Been Lyin' basically and he'll lie about anything anywhere at anytime at all down here in the deep blue sea! AND PEOPLE JUST KEEP BELIEVING HIM. So at some point you just go... 'well they kinda deserve it.'

Michael Emersons performance as Ben Linus was so fuckin good they kept him on for the rest of the series even tho he was definitely not supposed to be there that long. IT WAS THE BEST DECISION. BEN IS SO GOOD(as a character in LOST hes a bastard otherwise.)

Claim to fame- Gettin his ass beat constantly. In a funny way. Sayid also gets bullied a lot but Sayid doesnt deserve it. BEN DOES. ITS FUNNY EVERY TIME.

Rousseau is a crazy French woman who lives in the woods. She does torture Sayid a little and a lesser woman would be incinerated for that action alone....... but I love Rousseau.

Claim to fame- Taking any opportunity to beat the shit outta Ben. Good for her.

Abaddon! Hes not an important character really at all... THEY DIDNT DO ANYTHING WITH LANCE REDDICK!?!?!? THEY JUST KILLED HIM!?!? FOR WHAT REASON DO YOU HIRE LANCE REDDICK AND DO NOTHING WITH HIS CHARACTER!?

Claim to Fame- BEING PLAYED BY LANCE REDDICK!!!!!!!

There are a bunch of other characters... ones that I love... like Frank and Miles and Mr Eko and Nikki and Paulo(who the hell are Nikki and Paulo!?) and Rose and Bernard and Boone and Shannon but I'll leave you with one last character.

VINCENT!!!!!! SUCH A GOOD BOY!!!

Claim to Fame- Making sure a certain someone does not die alone cuz they lived together.

I just wanna talk about LOST with you Just wanna kinda get LOST in you ya~ Was thinking maybe I could watch LOST with you cuz im already~ LOST IN YOU~

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "The Triangle Sisters" Episode Followup, Part 1

...Yeah, I don't think I need to elaborate much on this one in terms of what I hope to see.

But I will try and get myself out of that mindset and take the episode for what it is instead of twiddling my thumbs.

So with that said, let's move on to "The Triangle Sisters", below the break. (Whether Miss Triangle will appear...eh, she won't. Even I know that much.)

Your writer for this episode, who, unlike the writer of the last episode, has a pretty big resume of shows, including a few kids shows. So of course, I'm already immediately confident that this will be a good episode.

Really, anything could surpass what I had to experience yesterday when writing that followup.

(On top of that, somewhere Olympia is shaking in her Converses right now.)

Yeah okay, this one lyric in this short song already sold me on why they had to use AutoTune for Ozzie in "Odd Jubilee".

I'm...a little less critical of it now.

...But is it normal pizza, or is it pizza with odd stuff on it?

Because this is the same organization that has "scrambled toast with Gregs" and I've been sitting here for several years wondering if they're human Gregs or animals with meat.

Sounds like you need to call in a favor from a redhead fri- ah who the fuck am I kidding. There will be no living-legend agent mention this season beyond the Oona image Easter egg. I will stop being delulu and live in reality now.

Olympia wishes she had this kind of Flash-like power.

...Did I hit the Olympia mention quota yet?

Stupid question to ask of Orli, but Captain O's answer is just as hilarious.

INB4 "prop pizza", but that is the worst pizza I have ever seen and tormenting Orli with it is cruel.

HIS SPECIALTY IS MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP?!?!?!?!?!

I'm not even mad. I'm just happy Orli doesn't have to consume a human, hear the crunch, and go "what did I just put in my mouth?"

"Is mint chocolate chip pizza popular over here?"

"Not at all."

It's not the dig at Chicago deep-dish pizza, but someone on the British staff has got one hell of a vendetta against mint chocolate chip. Because it killed their grandma, okay?!

Is...is...

...No. Mm-mm. Wasn't surprised when Betty turned up in "Training Day". I've already gone apeshit over the parking enforcement officer in Chicago. This shit doesn't faze me anymore.

Let's be honest for a moment: if there were security cameras in "Training Day", it would have ruined Todd's entire dramatic comeback reveal.

I mean...they're in the museum...but it would have ruined it.

THEY DIDN'T SHMUMBER-FY THE SANYO CAMERA SANYO BRAND IS CANON IN THE ODDVERSE GOOD DAY.

*long deep sigh*

"The Great Grinaldi" is one example of a time when a character wants to do something but can't because they're occupied on a case. It's a great episode. Otto gets tormented to hell and back because he just wants to see his favorite magician before the chance slips away.

...

I had another example of an episode that was good that did the same thing, but typing that out reminded me that this episode is really just "The Great Grinaldi" but very unfunny. Orli getting tormented with wanting pizza is not funny. It's annoying. Maybe because she's not an idiot like Otto is and has...ehh...well, she's got whimsy, just not Otto-brand whimsy. But she's not an idiot, and she has self-awareness and meta knowledge, and Otto's idiocy is part of what makes "The Great Grinaldi" fun.

No, it wouldn't work with Ozzie either. He's also not an idiot. Nor is he the "I gotta put up with this shit every day" type like Olive.

...I changed my mind.

Transgender triangle villain.

With my cisgender aroace soul.

...I made up my mind.

Lesbian triangle villain.

With my cisgender aroace soul.

See, it's funny because villains normally can't math, but most of them are smart enough to know that squares can be cut into two triangles.

I CHANGED MY MIND.

THEY'RE BOTH GAY WITH THE ONE ON THE RIGHT BEING TRANS.

MY SOUL IS GONE TO THEM.

"And there was no door, so we assumed it was open."

The door doesn't lead to the outside, ding-dong. It connects rooms in the museum. And even if the door seen earlier was not the door she's referring to...common sense would tell you to go by store hours and maybe if the lights are still on inside. Maybe.

If neither of these villains plays the triangle at the end of the episode, it will have been a completely lost cause.

I can, uh...do without the screeching, though. I got that plenty when I watched The Amazing Digital Circus yesterday, thank you.

Oh, the fact that Orli doesn't even want to tell them the truth is absolutely savage.

Look, I don't know if they have neighbors...but do them a service, Orli.

Honestly, how many square villains are in Britain? Among millions and millions of niches, there can't be that many, huh? So this whole "out of town" thing won't be so contrived?

...Mm. Well, them seeing all the town squares got a chuckle out of me, so one point to Tasha.

The pizza thing is not funny.

It will never be fucking funny.

If I want this shit then I will go rewatch "The Great Grinaldi". Or...uh...that other episode whose name I was gonna mention but I forgot now. Yeah. I'll go watch either of those episodes.

Point fucking revoked, Tasha.

AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA WHOT???????

I'm sorry, did...did they just play the sound of a ringtone...for a video call?

Because Season 3 proved in spectacular fashion that they were inept at including video conference calls in episodes and they didn't even improve???

God, I didn't think I could hate this episode more, but somehow they surpassed Orli's addiction to pizza and went straight into "hehe lawl Zoom".

Believe me, if graphic design actually were my unironic passion, I would design a Zoom conference call screen that would fit the show and be accurate to what they're referencing. But alas, it's not.

Ah yes, my favorite museum in Britain! Museum.

...'S it. 'S the name of the place.

(Also, Want It Need It cookies. Can't decide if that's an MLP reference or not, but I highly doubt it unless they show purple ones.)

"I close the museum at lunchtime so I can feed my cats."

It's like they heard my earlier rage about pushing the black cat stereotype and are trying to rectify it and y'know what? No, it does not rectify it. The man has integrity. But shifting gears doth not an unsin do.

Ohhhh...it's that, uh...the woman with...the hat and...the stick in her mouth that may or may not resemble a cigarette. Yeah. That woman.

Osgood, I love you. Even though you remind me eerily enough of Ohlm, I love you. Platonically. As a character.

But do not perpetuate further what is already a stupid fucking gag.

Perhaps not, but I hear having odd food qualifies you for Odd Squad tax credits, which are very hefty if you can get 'em. You can even cheat the people at the DMV!

"When will you learn, Osgood? No one wants mint chocolate chip pizza."

(On to Part 2!)

[the-firebird69]

It is clearing up and Punta Gorda a little there's gonna be less rain for hours and it will drain out and it will rain and drain out and it really needs that there's a bunch of **** floating and it's all over the damn place and it will seep into that layer which is really only about two foot down and it'll soften and it will go downwards and it has to. This place is stinky and smelly all the time and it really needs this rinsing. It won't take long but it'll take a day and it will make a big impact on it. Do have some news.

--- We have to feed our son Yes in a moment only have a couple announcements one of them is the dam at the front of the harbor Charlotte Harbor is beginning to weaken and he's seen these kind of things before. not with this horse manure but similar stuff and if you have a through and it meets dissimilar material it starts to undermine it so goes down to sand and at the sand and horse manure transition it goes faster along the sand and the sand actually eats it away fast so it starts to blow that out underneath then it collapses and we're experiencing that even though it is not sand it's more compacted in layers and the three foot high section that is three foot at the top is now about two foot wide two foot down well it's three foot down to two foot and it's getting wider at that level of and it makes an odd shape like the WWF almost and it will continue to erode until it's three foot by 3 foot square above a three foot wide by one foot deep triangle once it reaches that it will begin to expand at the bottom of the three foot in a in a pyramid type configuration and the side will collapse above it. Also it is a well known fact that this area stinks all the time and for years and people knew it and knew why they're all dying they've been exposed to the radiation and they're sicker than hell. Essence not huge but he feels OK and he's going to eat something we have one or two more announcements

we have one or two more announcements

- I do hear it I need to announce it we have 50 people that have to go here 100 or so a lot more than that we just have a huge collect we need them out of here we have a big glut of them here

-- The ship is inland and it is the black ship it is up north and it is a huge menace OK and it's bad and it is going slowly towards the storm and it is pulling up behind it and people are kinda making fun of him because they can see it so clearly and he's saying OK and stuff but really he's an idiot and he is going to go down for being stupid in a moment there are armies that are moving up there and that are going to intercept him there are armies down here fighting the clones and now they're fighting Trump which is usually the norm and the clones don't like Trump and Trump doesn't like them.

-- We have some news that this is following the Revolutionary War somehow there's a lot of crap around that then and it's not very pleasant but that's how it was it is important to note that there are certain events that are taking place and we are going over what those are of course they are very important and they are also pertinent to what's happening here so you must understand we are in a state of war was practically everyone and we want people to know that that's happening we need to get going on a lot of things we have a lot of ideas but this is important to note.

-- We're getting a lot of movement around town and basically they're saying they're responding to the clones and basically they are but they have other stupid things they wanna do we're starting to hear from the pseudo empire that they're upset and inner rage and all this other **** about all sorts of stuff what we're saying and what we're posting what we say is we've been putting this out there the whole time because you're an **** and you're a **** and jerk to our kid and you fired him from your company for no reason and put his life in jeopardy and we're going after you this isn't a free for all you can't do anything you want to him we're gonna mess you up if you didn't listen and now you're gonna get hit and that's how it is so we're gonna publish

Thor Freya Olympus Hera and many more

[peeterparkr]

all roads lead to;tom holland; prologue

prologue: 'what leads?'

story summary: when your long time boyfriend breaks up with you and leaves you to find himself in Italy because you’re not spontaneous enough, you follow him to prove him wrong. Along the way you meet Tom , who recently went through a breakup himself, and might help you believe hate at first sight exists. Your trip trying to find your ex in small italian towns will become a desperate call for help, trying to help your new enemy get his relationship back by fake dating, sharing beds, getting lost and finding romance in dubious spots; all while falling in love with the country and the romance of it. Will your trip help you find your ex, yourself, your Romeo and Juliet story or finally lead you to Rome?

New series: fluff, smut, angst-ish (not really)

pairing: tom holland x writer!reader

tropes: enemies to lovers, fake dating, only one bed, road-trip, love triangle (or square), very rom com, idiots to lovers, oops-we-kissed, italian cliches from Hollywood

chapter summary: what leads to love and what leads to heartbreak? word count: 3.7

playlists: Italian vibes | y/n's breakup

wanna be tagged?

masterlist next chapter

IT'S HERE, BYE HOPE YOU LIKE THE PROLOGUE, REBLOG COMMENT EVEYRHTING

What leads to love? 

Falling in love comes easy. Very, very easily. No one really complains about the process of falling in love, though it’s different each time, there is a certain agreement that falling in love is overall a  happy process. 

Or rather than happy, it’s… simple. 

Falling in love sometimes is magical. Sometimes it’s avoided. Sometimes it can be a storm. 

But undeniably, it’s easy. 

It’s like wine. Bitter, with some sweet notes. 

Some people say the older it is, better. Love might turn better with time, into a more mature routine and more developed plans. 

The young folks usually prefer a sweeter wine. It’s about… taste, really. 

The real connoisseaurs might find disgrace in the cheap wine that people use to get drunk. Like one of those one night stands that might give you a headache the very next day. It’s the same, really. 

Love can be described in many different ways. Currently, you decided wine was the very best explanation for it. Or at least how you were drowning it. Wine worked. 

The circumstances surrounding might not be as pleasant, however, you can easily fall in love. 

You can fall in love with a gentle laugh, a stupid comment and a genuine stare. Falling in love can come from an inside joke, a shared story or a listened to song. 

Falling in love can come as a mistake. And making mistakes, well… 

It’s easy. It just… comes in so easily and you can’t help it. Though it’s very complicated to describe. 

Sometimes you can use colors. Other times you can use flowers. Or wine. 

With him, though, how will you ever be able to describe what it felt like? 

Was it strategized? Probably. From giving him certain type of smiles or making him like you for the dresses you wore. Pretending to love his favorite films or favorite songs. Learning the different conversations to be achieved through dinner with his friends. 

But it was… inevitable. And you wouldn’t change it. 

Per sempre, tutta la vita. 

That’s what he used to say, he’d heard that phrase once, he never remembered from where, and his pronunciation had probably changed along the way and it was a mere memory of it now. But he had decided to use it all the time. It was for you. 

‘Forever, all my life’. 

With the promise that he’d love you forevermore. All his life. As long as you were aware of it, he was, undoubtedly, still alive. 

How easy had it been to fall for that single phrase. Per sempre, tutta la vita. 

Falling out of love, on the other hand, isn’t easy. And that’s something universally agreed upon. 

It should’ve been as easy as losing that neck chain. Or forgetting the dialogue of a movie you haven’t watched in a while. It should be easy. 

Yet it’s not. 

Falling out of love is a forced activity when you’re broken up with. And that’s not easy. A breakup is never never easy. At least not if you’re the one being dumped. It’s like that one bitter cheap wine that you bought in a supermarket and made you sick and gave you a heartache. Falling out of love included the five stages of grief. And wine. 

Refusing to fall out of love had probably led you to where you were by now. A plane. 

Where you had a glass of wine in your hand and you were gripping to your hopes with the other one. 

The conversation was playing over, and over, and over. Like a humorless joke that you can’t help but tell again and again. 

“Really? Just like that?” You had asked, as you walked around the kitchen counter. Pouring a glass of wine as you continued cooking dinner for both of you, ignoring his suitcases by the door. “Just… years and years thrown out the window. All our plans--” 

The music was still playing the background, the music you decided to play so you could dance while cooking, what you usually did, different plans tonight.

“Y/N, Y/N, I— it’s not. It’s not like that,” Miles followed you with his dark gaze, watching your pathetic excuse for dinner. “This is as hard for me as it is for you. Look, It’s not you, it’s—“

You could not believe it. “Please, do not dare to say that,” You begged, closing your eyes as you stopped stirring the sauce. “Don’t dare saying it, don’t say it’s not you, it's me. That’s what people say when it really is the other person.” 

After years of your relationship, he was throwing it away. Just like that, by saying: ‘We need to break up’, which undoutebdly is one of the cheapest ways of breaking up with someone. 

It’s useful, though. If it ain’t broke…

“Well, it is me, not you,” he cleared out and poured a wine for himself, thought he was breaking up with you and he’d already packed, this seemed calm enough. 

You looked up. “Have you met someone else?” Your gaze was trying to decipher his. 

“No,” he took a deep breath. He wasn’t lying.  “That’s why I’m telling you this. It’s not about… us, it’s not that the love is gone or… I…” He took a deep breath. “I want to travel, I want to follow my dreams and being here with you just… stops me from it, being tied—“

“Tied? You feel like that? Trapped? Is that it?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, though. “Is this a prison? Have I not—“

“No, no, I didn’t,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, you… You have your life here, alright? And I don’t know if this is who I want to be. I want to travel…” 

“We could travel, then,” you said quickly, as you felt your chest ache. Yet, you were still calm. You took a sip of the red wine, bitter. “Yes, yes, yes, let’s travel together. We can plan a trip. We can go places, yes, yes, we can do that. Let’s… You wanted to go to San Francisco, right? Let’s go, let’s travel to San Francisco this weekend, let’s plan it.” 

“You… don’t,” he took a deep breath. “That’s the thing, y/n, I don’t want to plan, I don’t want to go… To San Francisco.” 

“Where then?” You were desperate now. You knew your voice was cracking because you knew what was going on. 

He was tired, you could tell. “I just want to travel, be free, no planning. I just—I want to go travel to without planning.” 

“How are you supposed to travel without planning?” You frowned. “However can you travel, you need money, and… and… the plane… and a hotel, or some kind of place to stay and the transportation and—“

“I’m leaving to Italy, without planning anything.” 

“Italy is literally the other side of the world—There has to be some planning, and there must have been some considering your stuff is already packed.” 

“I—” He took a deep breath. 

“Had I known you wanted to break up with me I would’ve planned—“

“This is my thing, y/n, you don’t have to plan everything,” his hands were firm against the table now, he was conflicted. “and you’re always doing it, you plan and then you never go through with it. You just… Plan and order and it’s all—It’s everything, you always have to be under control and there’s no spontaneity—You are scared of everything. You’re even scared of your own dreams.” 

“See? So it is me, it’s not the whole it’s not you, it’s me… It is not you, Miles, is it? It is me.” 

He took a deep breath. “Maybe, yeah,” he ran a hand through his face.

You gave him a bitter smile. “Yeah.” 

 “No, no, I—It’s not you. It’s the person I am today, I need—I need some spontaneity in my life. And you are perfect the way you are—I’m just… I don’t think we are the people who we fell in love with, we have changed.” 

“But… I love the person you are today,” you knew he had cracked you, finally.  “You don’t love me, then?” 

“Oh no, that I do, I do, I love you, I need—Some time, but this is about me wanting to go and be free for myself, but I love you, and I always will. Per sempre, tutta la vita.” 

You felt your heart breaking. “If you love me then, why are you leaving me?” The world was spinning. 

“It’s not about lack of love,” he explained. “I think we have enough love to give,” Miles took in a deep breath. 

He meant it, because falling in love is easy. And falling out of love can’t be as easy. 

There was love there. You knew it. He loved you; and you loved him and this would be another silly argument that comes with time, when the devils get into your thoughts. You knew you’d eventually end up with your arms wrapped around him, dancing under the moonlight, kissing him better. 

“Would you go to Italy with me?” He questioned. As if some sense had gotten to him.  “Right now? Let’s go, I need—“

“I can’t leave just like that, I have a job, I have things to take care of—I would need to plan—“

“I’ve never asked you anything, y/n,” he said. “It’s the one thing I’m asking from you. Let’s go.” 

Italy had always been a dream of his, and yours too; you’d both been saving for it, for a while now. The time would never seem to come because one thing happened or life decided to slip in and before you knew it, you were spending the holidays again watching Home Alone for who knows what time. 

You knew you both wanted this. He was an architect, you were a writer. You were supposed to go there. Learn, travel. Be a romantic and visit Verona, find Romeo or Juliet. 

Yet you never did, although you wanted to. 

“I—I don’t know Miles,” you said. “I’m—scared, alright? Yes I’m scared to—“

He watched you like he had won the race, as if he was dying to tell you he’d told you so. He only cynically chuckled to himself as his eyes couldn’t look at you. 

“Scared to follow your dream?” He questioned. “You’ve always wanted to go there, you always write about having adventures yet you never have one, y/n. Who are you? What happened to you? To us? Why are we even pretending this is working? It’s not. And—“

“It is—“

“No, we don’t work anymore.,it’s always—This conversation, y/n.” 

“I—Can we talk about this, please? You’re so suddenly breaking up with me,” you snapped for the first time. “Miles you can’t—do that.” 

He sighed. “You act like this is sudden.” 

“Well it is,” you frowned. “Something must have happened, you just—packed and you’re leaving and—please let’s—“

“We’ve been having this conversation over and over, y/n.”

You knew he was right, yes lately you had been having arguments but you didn’t think they would lead to… breaking up. It was sudden. Yes, there were arguments but not “packing bags and leaving to another country” arguments. 

“But—we can solve this, right?” You asked. 

“I can’t keep on trying to push you to follow your reams. I need to follow my own, and if you don’t have the courage to follow yours, then—You need someone else, y/n, not me.” 

He was done, and he didn’t have to say it. And it felt like your whole life shattered. Had you not known better you would have thought that every crashing sound was your house glass, or the wine bottle or anything else.  But you knew it was your heart, which he had held for so many years but dropped so easily. 

“I need someone who can just pack their stuff and leave.” Miles gave you a sympathetic sad state, long enough to see the tears bulking in. “I can’t do it, y/n.” 

He left when he saw you had no more left to say, because he had a plane to catch. And the music was still playing in the background and you were left with a pasta for two and an opened bottle of wine. 

He needed more, then. How? How could he need more, you only needed his laugh echoing through the apartment. You didn’t need anything more. 

You needed him. 

And maybe it was the bottle of wine or the playlist that played in the background, very poorly and drunkenly chosen after hearing he’d be leaving for Italy. Maybe. 

Maybe it was the fact that falling in love is so easy. But maybe it was Maybe it was the fact that this was so sudden. He had given you no signs. 

5 years of your life all thrown out the window in one night. 

Maybe it was the fact that he was right. Maybe it was that. Maybe it was because you realized how lonely the apartment looked. 

Maybe it was the fact you realized he’d probably spent the whole day packing but he’d left a lot still. Like all those pictures around the house. 

Maybe it was the fact that for the first time in two years you’d be sleeping alone. Or the fact that you realized that your bed was too big, too stupidly big. And cold. 

Maybe it had been the fact you’d finished the whole bottle of wine. Or the fact that you were going through the five stages of grief in just a few hours. 

Denial, first. You had spent 10 minutes waiting for him to show back up. You knew he couldn’t be serious. 

Anger, second. Screaming, trying to hide away every single picture. You decided to get rid off the plants he’s chosen for the apartment, very decently, moving them outside your apartment. ‘Get out, our relationship died and so will you! Remember how we said we would love you forever? And take care of you This is just a lie because one day you’re flourishing and the other day? Guess what little plant! You get kicked out of someone’s life! Because you’re not what I want! No. You’re just a stupid plant who can’t travel because you’re stuck. Or maybe you’re not and I’m kicking you out before you decide you can leave me too’ 

Dancing to Lizzo’s Good as Hell. Then Cher’s Believe. Then, Taylor Swift. 

Bargaining, third. You’d texted him. ‘Please. Let’s talk.’ ‘Can we go get breakfast and think about this?’ 

You didn’t know why Taylor made you realize how cruel you’d been to the plants. You’d gone out to get them back.‘I’m so sorry I said all that. I love you. I’m sorry, welcome back.’

Then you realized, it couldn’t be that bad. Maybe this was your chance to meet someone new? Or perhaps, 

Depression, fourth. It had started with the tear streaming down your face as you listened to Italian covers of breakup song.

First ‘without you’ by Mariah Carey was playing in the background. Not that version, though. It was in Italian. Somehow you had found the one playlist with breakup songs all sung in Italian. Nowadays there’s a playlist for anything. 

Why? Because your life had lost its sense in the—you looked down at the time, your life had lost its sense 6 hours ago. 

“Can’t live, if living is without you,” you pathetically sang along the lyrics in another language. “Can't live anymore,” you sobbed now.

5 years. This wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

Maybe it was all of that combined. 

Then there was no music, just the sound of your tears as you hugged the pillow that he used every night. With little to no hope. 

With pictures of him stabbing you into old reminders. 

Probably. Yes, it may have been every single thing that led you to the morning. 

That led you to your screen blinding you just enough, and that may have been what led you to drunkenly search for flights early in the morning. 

That may have led you to book a flight, pack in less than an hour and get showered as you went to the airport because your flight would be leaving in less than six hours. 

That’s what led you to it. 

Yes, that’s what led you to your current situation. A plane that would lead you to another plane to get to Verona. 

Quietly sitting on a plane. Hugging yourself. Pathetic. 

With time to think. Because you knew what Miles’ plan was, you’d practically made it. Arrive at Verona, then a road trip along the country, searching for adventures, inspiration and everything that could be put in your way. Sure, Miles didn’t like planning but without you he’d never get anywhere. Your plans completed him. 

You’d called an old friend from college, a roommate you’d had and who had always encouraged you to visit her. Serafina, who was absolutely delighted that you and Miles would finally visit. You’d decided to keep out the part that he’d broken up with you and that you’d gone on a psychotic trance and followed after him to another country in hopes of finding him and getting back together with him. 

Minor details. 

Because, it all led back to him, to Miles. Didn’t it? This was to prove him that you were what he wanted. Yes, you could travel. He was that push you needed. He loved you, you loved him. You were willing to change for him. 

That’s what mattered. Didn’t it? 

Besides Italy was leading you to a whole new possibility. An opportunity for you to understand what you would be able to do for love. You’d been broken up with 24 hours ago. Or More? Less? 

You hadn’t slept and your heart was still aching. This had to lead to him. To Miles. And you knew fate would be on your side, you’d probably see him in a few hours. Destiny would lead you to him. Because your body was still his. It was impossible to erase him. 48 hours ago you still here by his side. You were sure you could still smell his lotion on your clothes. 

You knew you’d never love someone again. Your heart could only belong to him. 

You were excited, excited and tired. So, tired. You were barely looking at anything, you were entranced by your hopes, the heartbreak and the fact your eyes had been crying for 24 hours straight without resting anything. But you wanted this to be the best decision you’d ever made. 

You tried looking for Serafina who had promised to pick you up, you walked through the crowds and accidentally bumped into someone, making him drop the three cups of coffee he was holding. 

“Bloody hell, fuck,” he murmured, angrily as he was trying to get his white t-shirt off contact with his skin. The paper he was holding had been ruined as well. “Guarda dove stai andando!” 

“I’m so, so sorry,” You quickly said. “Sorry! Uh, Mi scuso?” You said. He had sunglasses on, which gave away who he was. Having sunglasses inside a room could only mean he was a certain type. 

He was annoyed. He took a deep breath as he pulled up his glasses. “Watch where you’re going.”

“I… will.” Yes, it had proved it. He was an asshole. 

“Fucking tourists,” he muttered. Though, he was clearly not a native italian either. His accent betrayed him, and his looks.

“I’ll buy you another coffee,” you said. “I’m so sorry for your shirt.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t bother,” he hissed as he walked past you, pushing you just slightly, enough to bother you. 

You were tired and not in the mood. “It wasn’t on purpose, asshole.” 

He only turned around to give you a smirk and kept walking. Smugly. Like he owned the place. Maybe it was your lack of sleep or your broken heart but there was an urge building upon you to go hit him. 

You got a call, saving him from your…violence. 

“Fina!” You finally answered, hoping you’d see your friend soon enough. “Oh my God, hello my love! Are you here?” 

“Bellissima, y/n, have you arrived?” She asked. “Perdonami amore mio, something came up and I sent my roommate for you and Miles!” 

“Oh, er… Yes, I’m here, I… uh, you sent your roommate?” You asked. “What’s her name?” 

“Oh, his name is Tom! He’s adorable, you’re going to love him!” 

“Oh great!” 

“Yes, and he could distract Miles while you and I go out and catch up, amore mio!” She insisted on Miles. She’d always said you both would end up married

You still believed that. 

“Oh… yeah.” 

“How are you dressed, amore?” She questioned. 

Very.. chic. Pants and a hoodie that would disguise your break-up. “Uh, like everyone else.” 

“And Miles?” She asked. 

“Uh… How is your roommate dressed? How will I know it’s him?” You decided to change the subject. 

“He made a sign! I’ll tell him to meet you outside, his car is yellow!” She said. 

“Alright! I’ll search for him” You said. 

“Si si! Can’t wait to see you and Miles, ciao ciao! Baci!” She hung up. 

You waited a bit, trying to know how you would excuse yourself. How in this world would you explain that ‘Miles & y/n’ were no longer ‘Miles & y/n’. How would you explain that you were there looking for your now ex in hopes of getting back together. How the hell would you explain that it had led you to call your boss saying it was a family emergency. How on earth would you tell her that your life had completely been destroyed in less than 48 hours? 

Fina had the suspicion that you were engaged. 

You decided to face your fears and walk outside, looking for that one yellow car. And you did see him. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you said as you walked over to the guy with three new brand coffees. You saw his sign now, previously ruined. ‘Miles & Y/N’Now distorted and stirred, dripping. 

The asshole. With his stupid sunglasses on, but his shirt ruined. 

You made your way over. He only glared as he hung up the phone. Your last 24 hours were better considering that you now had to face him. 

“Are you here to knock my coffee off again?” He asked. 

“Are you Tom?” You asked, as annoyed.

He frowned, arrogantly annoyed, pulling his sunglasses up. “Who’s asking?” 

“I’m y/n.” 

And you couldn’t believe this had led to him.

next chapter

wanna be tagged?

@xorderedkaosx @marajillana @andr3wsgf @sunflowersandaydreams @princessatoru @lilmschild @nocturnalms @halsteadsparker @parkersdahlia @sp2ncerz @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @lnmp89 @ebureon @minejungwoo @josephines-simps-fics @annathesillyfriend @hihiweezing @wayfaring----stranger @little-freak-satelliteatellite

[geometropolis]

grt3D episode 9: break the 3rd wall

the night seemed darker than usual. the door to group two’s cabin was open, letting the cold air seep into the otherwise warm haven.

square sighed. “listen, triangle, i don’t hate you.”

“yes you do.” triangle was standing in the doorway, motionless.

“shut up. no i don’t. i have plenty of reasons to be pissed, but i don’t hate you.”

“why?”

“if you know someone for practically all your life, it’s hard to suddenly hate them over something.”

“that’s stupid.”

“you’re stupid. go to bed, triangle.”

“no.”

“fine. be exhausted in the morning for all i care.”

“shut up.”

but triangle did not leave; she still stood in the doorway, motionless.

“geez, decide what you’re doing!” square groaned. “either stay or go. it’s getting cold in here.”

“good.” 

“you’re an idiot, triangle.”

“i know.”

“...isn’t it crazy how someone from helvetica’s finally being eliminated? took ‘em long enough.”

“they’re too good.”

“i know. they didn’t even choose to be together, and yet they work so much better than the rest of us.”

“well, if you know someone for practically all your life, it’s easy to suddenly hate them over something.”

“whatever. good night, triangle.”

“no thanks.”

triangle stayed where she was all night, standing in the door, motionless. the air didn’t feel cold to her at all.

…

“COME ONE, COME ALL, TO THE ELIMINATION OF THE DECADE!” möbius declared. “HELVETICA FINALLY LOSES!!!”

“y’know, sir, helvetica did technically lose the first challenge along with yim yum,” origin corrected.

“SAME DIFFERENCE. ANYWAY…”

triangle and square seemed much calmer than they had the day prior, but triangle looked incredibly tired. origin couldn’t tell if this fatigue was physical or mental – or both. either way, the two seemed to have softened.

incredibly, parallelogram was chatting with heptagon. 

droplet and star were walking hand in hand.

and helvetica, most uncharacteristically of all, was full of unease. trapezoid, hexagon, and pentagon were all holding hands, their faces tense and brows knitted; well, trapezoid and hexagon looked worried anyway – pentagon didn’t look troubled at all. 

octagon, meanwhile, kept to herself, away from the rest of the team she had grown so fond of. her expression was bitter and anxious, her face drawn with stress.

“IT’S TIME FOR ONE OF YOU LOVELIES TO LEAVE! AND WHO WILL IT BE?���

octagon kept shaking her head. NO, her mind screamed. NO NO NO NO NO NO.

“SAY GOODBYE TO… PENTAGON!”

“NO!” everyone in helvetica cried. octagon fell to her knees. 

hexagon and trapezoid squeezed their little friend’s hands. pentagon looked shocked, but not upset.

“this can’t be happening,” hexagon sobbed. “tell me i’m dreaming, trapezoid. tell me this isn’t real!”

trapezoid sniffed. “i’m sorry.”

“C’MON, TWINKLE! TAKE HER AWAY…”

origin hesitated, but then started to buzz. pentagon was drawn towards him.

“oh,” she gasped.

“PENTAGON!” trapezoid and hexagon cried. octagon was silent.

“for if you did you’d see that i have had a bite to eat~!” pentagon sang as she vanished, chuckling.

that song, octagon thought. that stupid song is the cause of all of this. that stupid song!

“OKEY DOKEY FOLKEYS…” möbius cut through the tension in the air like scissors through a taut rubber band. “IT’S TIME FOR SOME NEW TEAMS!!! ARRANGE YOURSELVES INTO THREE TEAMS OF THREE.”

square and triangle stayed together; as did heptagon and parallelogram, and the remaining members of helvetica.

“i guess we’ll have to split up,” star sighed.

“aw, now i’ll have to miss you too!” droplet cried. “i don’t want to leave you, star!”

“i know, i don’t want to leave you either… but it’ll be okay.”

“you sure?”

“you’ll do great! i’m sure of it.”

“okay…” droplet looked at the remnants of group two and yim yum. “i guess i’ll join square and triangle.”

“then i’ll join heptagon and parallelogram. good luck, bud!”

“you too!” 

the two friends held hands one last time before joining their new teams.

“THAT WAS FAST. WHAT WILL YOU ALL CALL YOURSELVES?”

“hey, droplet,” triangle greeted. “you’re the one who found the power of two back in the first challenge, right?”

“she sure is,” square answered. “welcome to the team, droplet!”

droplet looked nervous, but she smiled. “how about our team name combines all of our names? like our initials?”

“D, S, T…” square murmured. “how about ‘go the DSTance’?”

that’s so cringy, triangle thought. i like it. “perfect!” she exclaimed.

“how about…” star suggested to his new team, “‘the homeslices’?”

“that’s terrible,” parallelogram said. “but it’s better than ‘the cool kids’ or ‘yim yum’ or whatever. how’d we even come up with those?”

heptagon shrugged.

“AND YOU, HELVETICA? WILL YOU STILL BE HELVETICA?”

“no!” hexagon wailed. “we’re nothing without pentagon!!!”

“UH. OKAY.” möbius wrote “nothing without pentagon” down. “SO, UH, I’D START THE CHALLENGE NOW, BUT TWINKLE ISN’T BACK YET FOR WHATEVER REASON. SO I GUESS WE JUST HAVE TO WAIT LIKE WE USED TO.”

and so the new teams got to settle in. 

“what do you think of the allegory of the cave?” parallelogram asked. “i think generally speaking it makes sense, but the idea that there’s some absolute truth that just, well, exists out there is kind of shocking to me. i don’t think i necessarily agree with that.”

“maybe there are no true ‘forms’?” heptagon postulated. “maybe it’s just a way to put an end-goal to something that doesn’t truly have one.”

“yeah… we all want to know everything, even though we know we can’t… hm, hey, are you excited for today’s challenge? you’ve been doing really well in them lately. you too, star.”

“thanks…!” star said, his voice slightly confused. heptagon sighed.

“anything i can do to help…” heptagon muttered.

“hey möbius,” square called.

“YES?”

“if we’ve changed teams around, what are the sleeping arrangements?”

“WELL… NOTHING WITHOUT PENTAGON WILL STAY IN THE HELVETICA CABIN. THE HOMESLICES WILL BE IN THE YIM YUM CABIN AND GO THE DSTANCE WILL BE IN THE GROUP TWO CABIN.”

“gotcha.”

origin finally reappeared, ready to broadcast.

“OKAY EVERYONE, TODAY’S CHALLENGE IS A RELAY RACE.”

“but we just did a race a few days ago!” triangle exclaimed.

“OH WELL! THIS TIME THE ENTIRE TEAM WILL BE INVOLVED – AS THE RACE HAS THREE LEGS. IN THE FIRST LEG, ONE MEMBER WILL CRAWL ON ALL FOURS FROM HERE TO THE CABINS. IN THE SECOND, ANOTHER MEMBER WILL RUN BACKWARDS FROM THE CABINS TO THE EDGE OF THE FOREST. IN THE THIRD, THE LAST MEMBER WILL JUST RUN REGULARLY BACK HERE. DECIDE WHO’S DOING WHAT.”

“can i do the first leg?” droplet asked.

“sure,” triangle said. “square, do you want second or third?”

“i’m fine with second.”

“okey doke.”

“i’m fine with whatever,” heptagon said in a monotone voice. “whatever you need me to do…”

“okay then, can you do the first leg?” parallelogram asked.

“sure…”

“okay! then i’ll do third.”

“second it is,” star confirmed.

octagon looked at her teammates, who were murmuring to one another. “hey,” she called, “who wants to do what?”

but they were too busy… murmuring.

“hey, octagon…” hexagon’s voice was soft. “...do you wanna talk?”

“we don’t have time for this!” octagon exclaimed. “guys, we have a challenge!”

“octagon…” trapezoid’s voice trailed off as he patted hexagon’s shoulder. 

octagon shook her head. “i guess it’s all up to me then…”

“OKEY DOKEY, FIRST RUNNERS!” octagon, droplet, and heptagon lined up and dropped down to their arms and legs. “ON YOUR MARKS… GET SET… GO!” he turned to origin. “now, about the order for the new teams…”

droplet burst ahead of the other two – she wasn’t very fast, but she was able to spring ahead at first.

octagon and heptagon were neck and neck; both seemed to be going as fast as they possibly could out of some kind of desperation, and they soon overtook droplet.

“c’mon, droplet!” triangle exclaimed from near the cabins. “you can do it!”

droplet bit her lip and kept going. this won’t be like the last race, she thought. i’m gonna win it for my team!

octagon slowed down a bit and droplet was able to pass her. heptagon reached the cabins first and tagged star, who noticed the sad look on his face. droplet arrived just after him and tagged triangle, who high-fived her. “nice going!”

let’s go, let’s go! octagon thought to herself. you gotta catch up!

she finally reached the cabins and stood up. triangle had already gone a long way – she was known for her speed, even if now she was going backwards. star was a few feet behind her.

octagon shook herself and got going, running backwards as fast as she could; she soon passed star, who had tripped. 

triangle went towards him. “okay, get up, idiot.” she grabbed his hand and helped him, before continuing.

hexagon and trapezoid were still sitting by möbius strip, holding hands and talking.

“ARE YOU TWO UH. ARE YOU TWO GONNA DO SOMETHING OR…?”

“listen, this is a hard blow,” trapezoid said defensively. “let us grieve.”

“LOOK, PENTAGON’S NOT DEAD. AND OCTAGON’S DOING JUST FINE, SO WHY AREN'T YOU?"

trapezoid blinked and looked away. “octagon’s different…”

octagon rolled her eyes at triangle. i’m able to pass her now, she thought. but triangle was so quick that she was able to speed past octagon again, even after stopping to help star. “darn!” octagon spat. 

triangle finally reached the edge of the forest, where square was waiting. “hey,” she said.

“hey,” he said.

they paused.

“i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“what isn’t there for me to be sorry for?”

star reached the forest and tagged parallelogram, who started running back to möbius strip. 

octagon paused by the forest to catch her breath. triangle and square were just… walking. and talking. octagon glowered at them.

“if there’s anybody you should apologize to, it’s circle and rectangle,” square said.

“i know! but i can’t. you’re the only one here. so i might as well apologize to you.”

“so…?”

“i’m sorry for being so horrible to you. and it’s all because of this stupid show! i wanted to go to the third dimension so bad, i almost… i almost forgot about us.”

“about us?”

“us, our friendship. i’ve known you and your brother and circle since forever. but that all vanished… i was so hyped for this new, shiny, exciting prize that i dropped everything i already had for it.”

“and now you can never really pick it up again…”

triangle and square strolled slowly, their footsteps as tentative as their words.

“i don’t know if circle and rectangle will ever forgive me. i don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me.” triangle paused and looked square in the eye.

square reciprocated her gaze, but said nothing.

“but either way, nothing will ever be the same,” triangle continued. “all because i wanted to be anywhere but here.”

“triangle…”

“i guess i never realized that if i did win, if i did go to the third dimension… i would be going alone.”

octagon finally got going again. “don’t do this to yourselves!” she yelled to triangle and square as she passed. “run, you idiots!”

neither responded.

parallelogram was almost back to möbius strip, where his teammates were waiting for him.

“parry! parry! woo!!!” star cheered. heptagon waved half-heartedly.

“AND THE HOMESLICES ARE SAFE!” möbius strip proclaimed as parallelogram met with star and heptagon. “WHO WILL IT BE NEXT? GO THE DSTANCE OR NOTHING WITHOUT PENTAGON?”

"awesome job, both of you!" parallelogram exclaimed, high-fiving his teammates. 

"mhm…" heptagon furrowed his brow.

octagon kept running at breakneck speed, even though she felt like her legs could fall off, fueled half by a desire to win and half by anger towards her teammates.

i'm just as sad about pentagon's elimination as they are! she thought. doesn't mean i get to mope around! they should thank me once i save them from elimination! 

"i don't think i want to win anymore," triangle murmured.

"droplet does," square responded. triangle ran. 

"NOW THIS IS DRAMA!" möbius cackled as triangle and octagon both approached the end of the race. "YES. YES!"

"c'mon sucker, out of the way!" triangle was a few feet from octagon.

"no thanks." and with that octagon crossed the finish line. triangle was a second too late.

"AND WITH THAT, NOTHING WITHOUT PENTAGON IS SAFE, AND GO THE DSTANCE IS UP FOR ELIMINATION – AND, UNSURPRISINGLY, IT'S SQUARE'S FAULT."

"no, it's mine," triangle stated. "it always has been."

"oh, shut up," square countered. "don't hog the blame all to yourself. sharing is caring, after all. it's our fault."

"aw darn, but i wanted to be eliminated!"

"too bad."

"as long as it isn't me," droplet said sheepishly.

"oh, yeah, darn. so sorry for losing, droplet…"

"only apologize if i get out." she smiled. "otherwise you're all clear."

"for the first time in forever! ha."

parallelogram shook his head. "i cannot believe i won a race against triangle of all people. triangle!"

star shrugged. "hey, it could've been worse. at least we didn't have pentagon still around for helvetica…"

"TOO SOON!" hexagon wailed.

"shhshh…" trapezoid soothed. "it's okay."

"i did it," octagon whispered. her voice grew louder. "I DID IT! I BEAT TRIANGLE AND SAVED US FROM ELIMINATION ALL BY MYSELF!" and with that she raised her fist in triumph – and it went through möbius strip.

…through? through? 

octagon's hand went under part of this strange loop and over another. octagon's hand went through möbius strip.

"octagon." origin's voice was grave. "what. did. you. do."

"w-what do you mean, i–" octagon's arm began to lift… off of the face of the world. out of the 2nd dimension. 

"NO!" möbius yelled. "YOU IDIOT! NOW I'M GONNA GO BACK TO–"

and möbius strip vanished. octagon's arm snapped back. 

"...what the heck just happened?" parallelogram asked.

"well, um, huh…" origin started. "...how much do you all know about möbius strip?"

"not much," square replied. "we just saw him in his ad and accepted immediately cuz, y'know, 3rd dimension."

"well, that's the thing. möbius strip is from the 3rd dimension. he's just able to come here out of a strange technicality: like all of you, he only has one edge and one side. but he isn't supposed to be here, which is why he kind of… glitches. he certainly can't be properly observed by any of you. he's… an anomaly."

"so why did he get sent back?" droplet asked.

"well, octagon here accidentally broke a law of physics… you see, things can only go through other things in the 3rd dimension. the universe had to fix that little error… so it sent him back.”

heptagon had a strangely hopeful expression. "is the show canceled?"

"nope. möbius will come back soon… and until then, i can host!"

"oh… okay…"

octagon looked back at her teammates. they hadn’t even looked up.

“what is wrong with you people?” she cried. “you care about nothing besides pentagon!” octagon stormed off.

“we care about you, too…” trapezoid whispered into thin air.

…

“hey guys! wanna learn a fun song?” pentagon exclaimed.

“pentagon…” circle murmured. 

“are you okay?” kite asked.

“huh? yeah. there was this really funny song hexagon taught us, and–”

oval approached the little shape. “pentagon, you just got eliminated.”

“i know.”

“aren’t you upset?”

“not really. i came here to have fun, and i did! though i… i do miss the others, now that i think about it…”

“well, you’ll get to see them in a sec.”

pentagon was amazed by the 10x10 screen. “i can see the whole challenge from here!”

“yup!” heart said. “it’s a lot of fun to watch.”

“speak for yourself…” rectangle muttered.

“hey, could you come here, rectangle?” circle said.

“what?”

“triangle and square… aren’t screaming at each other.”

“...oh.”

pentagon was happy to see her teammates – but her mood soured. “golly, they really miss me… now they aren’t having fun at all…”

circle laughed, half sadly. “don’t worry. they’ll get over you eventually…”

rhombus gazed at octagon. she’s really the only sane one there, they thought, and yet she seems just as emotional as them…

the outcome of the race, however, was the biggest surprise of all.

kite laughed and translated over to circle and rectangle. “i’m sorry, heh, i’m incredibly proud of him for doing so – but how in primes’ name did parallelogram beat triangle in a race?”

rectangle’s voice was distant. “triangle finally slowed down…”

circle moved closer to him.

“hey, wait, look!” pentagon exclaimed. there was octagon, her hand… lifting?

everyone was speechless.

“well,” heart said at length, “if origin is the host now… i guess he’ll need a new co-host!”

[gaitwae]

The Blessings of Damsels [|] Batman x OC

read on AO3!

Warnings: Slightly open-ended, hinted love triangle. 

Length: 8.4k

Summary: A short timeline of how Charlene Park got over Clark Kent and set boundaries with Bruce Wayne.

=-=-==-=-==-=-==-=-==-=-=

=-=-=

The wind felt exquisite on Charlene’s skin, calming her racing heart. It wasn’t every day where her life flashed before her — she had been left under a pillar near LexCorps, then saved by an angel named Superman. Her eyes, shut tightly and pressing away tears, helped her forget exactly why you couldn’t go back to Metropolis. It had been a week, and, yet, here you were. She was hiding from someone too important to her. Charlene was hiding from shaking buildings and crumbling roads and screams and glowing rocks and a reporter who kept disappearing every time that Superman kept showing up. 

She was done with the lying and the rejection.

She didn’t plan on jumping from the rail where she was standing. She didn’t want to hurt herself. She just wanted to see something else. 

So, in search of new scenery, of something alien to her, Charlene went to the most dangerous city in America. Albeit, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, it was something that at least distracted her. Central City was just too far to drive, and Gotham was supposed to be the sister city of her home. She could just forget about this man who had worried her sick, she could just relax and listen to the cars run and the flags flap and smell the sulfur and petroleum and the flowers in the box on the building beneath her. Way up on this rooftop, she let her surroundings melt away her fears.

Char sat on the ledge of the roof, setting her fingers under the concrete lip.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” a deep voice said, startling her. The stranger set a sleek, covered hand on her shoulder to secure her. “People jump all the time. I hope you’re not looking for an escape that way.” 

“Um,” Char started, trying to find her voice, “I wasn’t going to jump. I was just trying to get over someone.” She cleared her throat and dusted her clothes off. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Not that it’s important… but he’s kind of important in Metropolis. I had to leave.”

There was a hum from the man who was behind her. Char looked up, seeing a black cowl and stubble dotting a square jaw and set lips. There was a familiarity to him — not that she knew him, but that she had seen him somewhere before. Charlene felt… well, not safe, but there was something comforting about him. As she looked closer, she noticed a large silhouette of a bat was weaved into the fabric on his breast.

Batman.

“How important can he be? He’s not Lex Luthor, is he?” the vigilante asked. He sat down next to Char, setting his cape underneath his legs so it flowed beneath him. His lips twitched upwards, but not quite. 

“He’s one of the biggest writers for the Daily Planet newspaper,” she said, laughing sadly. She felt like an idiot. Why was she spilling her guts out to this stranger? “Clark Kent, such a dork, but he’s always in the building. I work with him. I’m a newscaster —”

“Charlene Park,” he filled in. He turned to look at her, bright blue eyes gazing into her own orbs.

Charlene blushed. She wasn’t surprised. This was the Batman. He was crazy smart. Who knew how much he knew about anyone at the Daily Planet. Rumor was, Superman worked there, so of course, he might have known something about it. “You know my name. Creepy.”

He gave a slight nod as if agreeing with her. “You said it yourself. You’re a newscaster. I make it my job to watch the news.”

“For Metropolis, too?”

What a stupid question, of course for Metropolis too —

“Yes,” he said, patient and friendly. “Superman lives there. I have to know if I ever need to interfere. If he was ever mind-controlled, I need to be able to step in and save the world. The other members of the Justice League aren’t capable.” Each word that came from his mouth didn’t seem arrogant or rude at all. Batman was almost… melancholy. 

“So… you’re all by yourself?” she asked.

“I have my kids. They’re trained pretty well,” he replied. He turned his gaze out to Gotham City. He had a firm stare, unwavering and determined. Her heart dipped, sorry for him, impressed by him, and so… so weirded out, too.

Charlene looked out at the city, too. “I don’t have kids. I don’t have anybody. My parents died when I was young, I was never adopted, and I don’t have siblings.” She scratched the back of her neck. “Clark was my friend back in Smallville. It’s just been so odd, recently. He hasn’t been around as much, he’s been tailing Lois Lane, and I’ve been breaking my own heart over and over.” She sighed. “Don’t get me wrong — Clark’s a great guy! But…”

“That’s why it’s hard to get over him,” the Batman supplied. He bowed his head. An understanding was hidden beneath layers of quiet. “I don’t know what it’s like to be in love with some kind of Clark Kent, but I know what loneliness is, Miss Park.”

“Char.”

“Char,” he corrected himself. 

She cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. “Do you still feel lonely? With your kids?”

He shook his head a little. “Not as much, no. There are times I feel lonely, but I’ve been blessed. Your blessings will come, Char.” He turned to look at her. “I hope that helps.”

“It does,” she said, smiling. “What makes you so sure I’ll have blessings? I mean, you coming to talk to me seems heaven-sent, but that’s not a guarantee.” Charlene twisted her hands together, now restless. The Batman took his time to collect his answer.

“You’re a woman in her mid-thirties who still pines over her high school sweetheart,” he started. “You had one good thing, and it either ended or you grew apart. You built others up instead of yourself. You’ve waited patiently for what you want — but not for everything. You let some things go for others. You fought for everything and you’ve sacrificed it all. The foster homes were nothing, and yet it was the worst thing to live through. A kid with no one made herself into a someone, even if it was half of a someone.” The Batman rested on his elbows. “You’re too scared to let people go, but you’ve accepted people letting go of you or setting you aside. Char, you’ve got to have something coming to you.”

Charlene was stunned. How did he know all these things? Was she that obvious? Was she an open book? Or was that the hero of Gotham doing his job, once more? Oh, she couldn’t tell. Her skin prickled from both his sheer guesswork and the chilling night air. She wrapped her arms around herself. “Wow. You got all that just by listening to me for a few seconds?”

“And from feeling it myself or seeing my kids struggle with it.” He unclipped his cape, standing up. He wrapped it around her shoulders. The Batman stood close, but not too close. This was all too surreal. Charlene didn’t know how to feel. This stranger was becoming less and less of a stranger. She knew he wouldn’t want to be too close, and it was foolish to think that they would be close. This was just a weird talk about Clark Kent on a Sunday night, on the ledge of a rooftop. Being in love with Clark Kent was the least of her worries, anyway.

“Can I ask you something?” she whispered. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t protest. She waited about thirty seconds before saying anything. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Her larynx didn’t want to cooperate. 

How to phrase this?

He set a hand on her head, signalling for her to continue. 

“If I wanted to talk to you again, how would I be able to do that?” she whispered. “I feel as if you’ve understood me more in ten minutes than my shrink has in years. Not to mention, you might be able to relate to me more than my shrink can. You said you felt some of this stuff yourself. Are you an orphan, too?” 

“That’s more than one thing,” he said. He looked down at her with a glint in his eyes. “Just go back to Metropolis. You’re needed there.”

Charlene stopped. Of course. Right. She put her palm to her forehead. “You’re right. I’ll have to just face Clark like normal.” She barked a laugh. “You’re a hero, Bats.”

“Good to know.” 

Char stood up. “You might want this back, won’t you?” She flapped the cape around her shoulders. She felt silly. She didn’t know this man. She knew nothing about him, and she was talking to him like she was talking to Clark. She wasn’t a writer; she wasn’t an interviewer; she was a reciter. This was all new to her. 

The cowled detective hooked a thumb in his belt. “I’ll walk you back to your hotel room — you can return it then, Char.”

=-=-= “The Batman Incident” was what Charlene came to remember that night as. It was fresh in her mind for weeks, as fresh as the minutes she had lived through it. Any time she felt crisp cool air on her neck, any time she was alone at night on her balcony, she was instantly reminded of the interaction. Charlene didn’t ache or wish or anything like that, but it didn’t stop her from trying to figure out why the moments felt so real compared to anything else she had been through. Out of all that, she had been now, instead of Clark’s hurt bothering her the most, it was the Batman’s words ringing in her ears. 

Char was sitting at Clark’s desk with the writer himself, now. He was leaning against it, scratching his head and playing with his glasses. Kent was antsy. He groaned, turned, then slapped his hands against the desk with a deep, deep sigh. “I can’t believe Lois caught an interview with Bruce Wayne. Wanna know the weirdest part?” he asked. He looked into Char’s eyes, pure confusion dressing his face.

“What’s ‘the weirdest part’?” she asked, repeating what he said exactly how he had said it. “She’s gotten interviews with the president of McDonald’s, before, Clark, I’m not exactly surprised. Lois is talented.” Char reached over the desk and grabbed a cup of coffee that had been nearly emptied, though had enough for her pleasure. She didn’t need to be an anchor, today. It was supposed to be her day off. She wouldn’t have even come in at all if Clark hadn’t asked her.

Charlene really needed to stop doing things because Clark asked. 

“The weirdest part was how he never accepts interviews. In fact, he asked if Lois still worked at the Daily Planet.” He shook his head, pinching his nose. “He asked if we could hold the interview here, otherwise it wouldn’t happen… oh, sometimes I think billionaires hate me…”

“Makes sense,” Charlene agreed. She propped herself up on her elbows. “Why wouldn’t they hate reporters and journalists? They could be talking with Superman or Batman or Wonder Woman.” 

Clark laughed dryly. “You have no idea how much I wish I was having an interview with Batman. Instead, I have to deal with Bruce Wayne.”

“Lois is having the interview with Wayne, Clark. Calm down. It’ll all be okay.” Char stood up, patted his back, then sat back behind his desk and took a long sip of his coffee. “Besides, Bruce Wayne can’t be that… scary…” She trailed off. She saw the elevator to the writing room open.

The man walking out of the elevator and toward her was not who she was supposed to be seeing. She might have been bad at recognition in general, but she remembered that square jaw, those blue eyes. She hoped against hope she was seeing things. “I take it back,” she whispered to Clark. Her old friend kept shooting his eyes back and forth between her, Wayne, and Lois Lane, trying to put the pieces together quickly. Charlene stood up, a smile tugging up her face at the sight of the man she wasn’t supposed to know. “He’s terrifying.”

“Charlene —”

“Mr. Wayne,” she greeted, speaking louder than Clark intentionally. “Welcome to the Daily Planet. How are you, this morning?” She extended her hand outwards to take his. Mr. Wayne took it, gave it a firm shake, then smiled broadly at her. 

“Charlene, right?” he asked, squinting his eyes and setting a hand on her upper arm in a friendly manner. His suit was about as straight as wrapping paper; shiny like it, too. He was just missing the Christmas bow.

“Yes!” she grinned. She set her hands on her hips. “Charlene Park: a lowly newscaster. I hope you like the Daily Planet and find some friends, here.”

Bruce smiled. “Then I suppose we’re friends already, Miss Park.”

“I guess we are,” she said. “Friends are life’s greatest blessings, aren’t they?”

“They are, I agree.” Bruce Wayne let go of her, moving back to Lois Lane. He kept his eyes on hers. He clapped his hands together lightly. “I have an interview to complete. It was nice meeting you, Char. I hope to see more of you.”

“Best of luck, Mr. Wayne.”

When Bruce Wayne walked away, Clark folded his arms tightly over his chest. “That was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen — and I’ve seen my dad in daisy dukes.”

Char cocked her head, trying to stifle a snicker. “Clark, c’mon. It wasn’t anything. I’m fine, really.”

The man fixed his tie, taking the empty coffee cup from his desk over to the office kitchen. As he walked past her, he said, “I’ll believe it when you don’t giggle at the billionaire.”

“Maybe he looks funny!” Charlene offered. 

“Har har!” Clark called. “I’m sure that’s it.”

=-=-= The interview with Bruce Wayne was done and over within record time. Charlene had never seen Lois so happy before. Bruce, on the other hand… Charlene had no idea someone could hide such a smile behind two eyes. 

She was shaking. She didn’t know if she was happy, mad, excited, or scared that she knew the man behind the mask all the way back in Gotham City. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what emotion she was feeling… or if she really wanted to know the man behind the mask in Gotham City. She kept replaying the Batman Incident in her head. She didn’t want to relive it. She didn’t want to have a vigilante smile at her and know exactly who she was pining for. 

Yeah, she still hurt for Clark. It wasn’t going to go away so quickly. But billionaire Bruce Wayne didn’t need to know that. 

She let her mouth run twice. She needed to keep a lid on it the next chance she got. To make sure she didn’t even risk it, Charlene packed up and left early. She was at home without another run-in with Bruce. 

Boy, did that make her feel worse. She felt terrible, cowardly. Running from her problems was just another thing Char found herself doing constantly. She had made herself some pasta, wrapped herself in a bathrobe over her T-shirt, and sat with a mug of sweet tea in her lap. 

Her newspaper clippings of the Batman littered her coffee table. Every award-winning article written by Clark was framed up. Her old dog was sitting next to her, chewing on his toy without a care in the world. For being a coward’s safe space, it was very comfortable.

“Real brave, Charlene,” she mumbled into the ceramic as she took a sip. She switched on the TV, hoping for white noise. “Just hope I was wrong about Wayne…”

“That depends on what you think you’ve found,” said the last voice she wanted to hear. Char exhaled through her nose.

“Come in,” she called. “Don’t just hang around in the shadows.”

The Batman slipped out of her bathroom door, cowl on and frown deep. He was regal and knightly, feet apart and shoulders taught. “Char,” he greeted.

“I was hoping you could tell me if I was wrong, actually.” Charlene sat up, putting her mug aside. She beckoned him over. He sat down next to her. “I just never noticed how similar the Batman is to Bruce Wayne.”

“Similar?”

“Like your eyes are the exact same shade of blue,” she reasoned. “And you wear the same aftershave, too.”

“Charlene,” the Batman said quietly, “anyone can have similar aftershaves and blue eyes.”

“Not everyone in Gotham knows who I am.”

“Not everyone in Metropolis knows who I am, either,” he countered. “Do you really want to know who I am?”

“I know Clark is Superman. Part of the reason I’m furious with him is that he lies to me.” Char made sure her emphasis was on lies. “The allegations would be too crazy for anyone to believe, trust me.”

“There are too-crazy people in Gotham that can’t know,” he answered. “I’m sorry. Even if I trusted you above everyone, your position makes it hard for me to tell you.”

“My position?” she repeated.

The dark knight looked at her as if it were obvious. It was, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t at least hear the truth from him. “You’re a friend of Superman’s and a newscaster. I have responsibilities, a lot of them. My kids, my city, my assets.” He said assets, not money. He was a businessman at his core, even if he had the heart of a lion there, too. 

“Just tell me if Bruce Wayne can answer me, then.” Charlene stuck her hands under her arms. “Since the two of you already know I know.”

“Charlene,” he said quietly, roughly. She turned her head away. She felt insulted. 

It took her a second to realize it, but the Batman was pleading. He didn’t do it the same way Clark did. Clark would soften up, not set up defenses. Clark would take her hand, not give her space. Clark wasn’t anything like the Batman. He just sat, frozen, waiting his turn patiently. 

She had to be patient with him, too. She wasn’t a superhero. She didn’t know what this was like for him, but she could still be patient. So to help, Charlene waited, too, for what seemed like forever. She took his hand and squeezed it. He didn’t squeeze back, but he didn’t recoil. The hand was limp despite her grip and she couldn’t say that she blamed him for it; she was thankful he didn’t rip his fingers away so soon.

“Why did you agree to an interview?” she whispered. “And… and don’t say it wasn’t you. Lois doesn’t talk about me, I wasn’t wearing a nametag, and Bruce Wayne has no reason to be watching the Metropolis Daily Planet Newscast outside of the financial updates.” 

“I figured it was time for an interview,” he answered. The Batman didn’t deny it. Bruce didn’t deny it. He kept his eyes away from hers. “I remembered that you worked there. You owe me after that talk, so I came to collect.”

“You think you’re funny,” she said with a smile. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness… Lois will be grinning ear-to-ear for weeks because of you.”

“I was supposed to be meeting Clark, anyway. I figured the pitstop might be worth it.” Bruce’s lips twitched again. Char grinned broadly. He removed his cowl then faced her. “You could really tell it was me because of the eye color?” 

He seemed more at home in his bat armor. He was comfortable in this grey/black getup. When he wore the crisp suit, he seemed fidgety, but when he was sitting next to her, his muscles weren’t so tense. His eyes didn’t dart all over. He was at rest as the Batman.

“You do a good falsetto, but yeah, it was the eye color.” She stood. “Can I get you tea? Or are you going to disappear?” 

Bruce pressed his lips into a line. “I don’t know how long I can stay.  I have to drive home tonight… and I’m not the type for this sort of domesticity.” 

“I won’t tell anyone you’re docile,” Charlene promised, crossing her heart. She took her cup and went into the kitchen. “As long as no one knows about me, no one can hurt me or my family — there is no family to hurt.”

“You’ve thought this through?” he asked, footsteps not far behind hers. He stopped in the doorway. “May I?” He pointed to the kitchen wall lined with the cupboards and appliances. Charlene nodded. Bruce poked around her cabinets and her drawers, casually picking something up every now and again. She didn’t mind — he was getting to know her. He was a detective. She had nothing to hide, and he had everything to see. Win-win. “Impressive.” 

“I’ve been dying to see you, again,” she teased. “You could say I’m crazy for you.”

“Not really my type,” he mused. Char could hear items jangling around behind her. “Desperation isn’t my style.”

“But stopping a girl from jumping — when she wasn’t — is?” She poured another cup of tea, looking back at the dark knight. He was holding a spatula and studying it carefully. He pretended as if he hadn’t heard her.

“My son, Damian,” he started. He set the spatula down, digging for something else. “He wouldn’t admit it, but he would love to rescue a damsel in distress. I think he would like you.”

“I’m a damsel in distress?” she laughed. She set a teabag in the cup, doing a one-eighty to face Bruce. “Who are you? Some kind of prince charming?”

“The term is ‘knight in shining armor,’” he corrected. He closed the drawer he was meddling in. “The prince is the kid from Smallville, Kansas.”

“I’m from Smallville, Kansas.” Charlene walked over to him. Bruce was still standing rigidly. She didn’t know if he knew how to relax. Could he relax? Was it even physically possible for Bruce “the Batman” Wayne to relax?

“I’m from New Jersey.” He crossed his arms, rubbing his fingers together. 

“Hey. You don’t have the Jersey accent,” Char pointed out. She pulled his gloves off gently, setting them on the counter. She went to get his tea. “Let it steep for about thirty more seconds.” She set the mug in his hands. They were so large that the orange cup seemed like a plaything compared to a real item.

“I never said I interacted with New Jersey,” he said dryly. “I just lived there. I was raised by my butler.” 

“Does Detroit have any superheroes?” she wondered aloud. Bruce waved the tea under his nose, scrunching his nose upwards. He took a sip without glaring at the tea again. “Your butler sounds like a wonderful man. He raised you well.”

“I’m lucky.” He paused for a moment. “Aquaman, the Green Lantern, and Amazing Man live in Detroit. Why are you asking?”

Charlene patted his shoulder, throwing away everything he had just said. Truth be told, she just wanted to hear Bruce’s voice. “Not many kids are lucky.”

“Three of my boys are adopted,” he said quietly. He rubbed the mug that she had given him. “I give to adoption centers. It’s important to me to give kids homes where they’re loved. Clark Kent’s only known family’s love, and that’s what drives him. What drives me is the chance to make sure all sorts of people never have to worry about losing it.”

“I admire that,” Char murmured. “I wish I had a family of my own, but I just don’t have the time.”

“Someday, you’ll find the time.” Bruce gave her a smile. “I promise.”

Charlene smiled back. His small smiles were infectious. “I’ll hold you to that, Bats.”

=-=-= “Hey, Charlene?” Clark called from the living room. She was too busy combing her hair out and fixing her gown. She had received a letter in the mail (honestly, who does that anymore?) from Bruce, inviting her to a charity gala with him. She almost gave Clark a heart attack when she started laughing triumphantly at some paper. He wasn’t particularly happy that Charlene was going for a night on the town with Bruce Wayne, billionaire bachelor supreme. “Are you okay up there?”

“I’m fine, Clark!” she called back. “I’m just seeing a friend, tonight. Tell Martha and Johnathan I won’t be able to come to dinner tonight. I’m going to a foster care fundraiser with Bruce Wayne. I’d think you’d be coming to interview some of the guests there since you were adopted, too.”

“I can’t! I don’t have any way to get in. It’s private, Char.” Clark was starting to sound impatient. “Are you going to meet him or is he going to meet you?”

“He said he would pick me up!” she answered, finishing her eyeliner and walking downstairs. “Does that bother you, wonderboy?” She gripped the rail, fanning out her yellow skirt around her legs. She wore simple copper chains and glass earrings — nothing expensive, but classy enough that she didn’t look like a bum. Charlene knew Bruce liked his reputation (not a lot, but still) so she thought she would save him a few steps. No jewellery, no dresses. He would just have a friend tonight.

Clark’s eyes flew open wide. His cheeks colored. “Wow… you’re going like that?” He puffed his cheeks and took off his glasses. “You look…”

“Terrible?” she fretted.

“Like an angel. Like Wonder Woman,” he said quickly. He looked down at his lenses and quickly wiped them with his shirt like they were going to melt off his face. “You’re gorgeous. Wayne is going to love it, Char.”

“Thanks, Clark.” Charlene walked over and kissed his cheek. The writer wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against his chest. He felt warm, he felt like home. She never had to worry about being something more than she was around Clark. But Bruce knew how to take her walls down. Charlene was better off with a friend than with someone who had never noticed her. Suddenly, she got an idea and pulled back to see Clark. “You should ask Lois out! I heard she likes the boys in blue.”

He stopped. “‘Boys in blue’? She knows?”

After meeting Bruce a few more times, she finally gained the courage to confront Clark about the whole Super-gig. She made sure she wasn’t going to be blown off — so sure, Char almost confessed her years-old feelings to him. She couldn’t have lived through that, even with Bruce’s support. They had talked through the deception and somehow managed to build better trust between themselves. She almost forgot why she had originally left Metropolis for that fateful encounter with Bruce Wayne.

“Clark,” she scolded gently. “You haven’t told her?”

“Listen, I’m working on it —,” he started, holding his hands up in defense. His feet slowly removed themselves from the floor. Charlene set her hand on her hip, pinching her nose. 

“You promised she would know before she kissed you, again.” 

Another reason why Charlene absolutely could not tell Clark she liked him. Lois, caught up in the rush of being a damsel, kissed her rescuer unabashedly in front of half the staff of the Daily Planet. Charlene’s heart didn’t break for the first time; it didn’t mean it didn’t crack a teeny, tiny bit. 

“I know I did —” There was a knock at the door. Clark’s face fell into a scowl. He tucked his knees up to his chest, silently moving toward the door, and straightening his clothes out once he reached his destination. “Wait there for a moment, Char.”

Charlene crossed her arms. “Clark.”

Clark opened the door. Bruce was standing on the doorstep with a single pink rose. “Hi,” he said, giving his signature subtle smirk. “Is Charlene ready? Tim’s not too patient behind the wheel.”

“Hi,” Clark greeted warily. He kept his fingers curled around the door. His gentle manner was nearly nightmarish. Every breath was a slow calculation of how to kill a billionaire and get away with it. Charlene sighed deeply into her hand. Clark continued despite her wordless sass. “She’s ready. You better know that if you hurt her —”

“I wouldn’t do it without a positive benefit,” Bruce swore. “Besides, I’m not the one who’s dancing between two ladies. Save the shovel talk.” He pat Clark’s shoulder, pushing him aside and out of the way. When his eyes hit Charlene, his jaw dropped. She had never seen that reaction before, so her temples tingled from slight self-consciousness. “Char, you look beyond stunning. You’re shining.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up Charlene’s throat. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” She grabbed her clutch on the side table where Clark was standing. Quickly, she hugged him in a farewell. “Bye, Clark.”

Clark released a big breath, hugging her back once more. He set her back next to Bruce. “Bye, Charlene. Bruce.”

“Clark,” he responded in kind. “I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.” Bruce put his arm around Charlene’s waist. “There won’t be any need to play hero; if there is, I’ve got all I need within reach.” With that, Bruce took Charlene out of the foyer and into his limousine. 

“That was weirdly intense,” Char commented. With the knight’s help, she sat next in the back of the cab. “Did he make you uncomfortable?”

Bruce took her hand and set the rose in her grasp before sitting down next to her. “No. He doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Okay. Clark is very protective; I didn’t want you in the hospital for saying the wrong thing.” Charlene played with the rose in her hands, resisting the urge to breathe in the sweet aroma. The cab of the limousine was warm, spacious, and smelled comforting. It took her a second to realize it smelled like Bruce: his aftershave, his cologne, and a hint of something metallic. Her cheeks heated at the realization. 

How close had she and Bruce become? So close she knew exactly what Bruce smelled like? So close that she wasn’t nervous about the speculations tied to being on a billionaire’s arm? She looked at the rose petals. The color always meant something — Bruce always meant something. Pink… Why couldn’t she remember its meaning outside of being her favorite color? Why? Did she just forget everything the minute Bruce smiled?

“Char?” 

“I’m fine,” she said, snapping out of her thoughts. She set the rose down next to her, clasping her hands over her lap. “I guess I got so swept up in the idea of an adoption charity… I forgot who I was going with.” She looked at Bruce with a half-smile. “Thank you for taking me to this. I have as much as I can give on me, tonight; I even sold some of my old pieces of jewellery for these kiddos.” Charlene laughed nervously. “It seems so little compared to what you have… will it even be taken? I’m not an elitist. I’m not even close to well-off.”

Bruce’s eyebrows drew together. Something in his eyes softened, but she couldn’t pin what. He held her hand. “It’ll be taken. It’ll help someone, and any help at all can go a long way. You don’t have to worry about earning a position to give.” He tilted her head upwards, locking eyes with her. “You don’t have to earn anything. Not with me.”

She laced her fingers with his to signal her acknowledgement. Char couldn’t form words. She kept opening her mouth to protest but no sound came with the action — she felt helpless, yet all the same, she knew Bats would understand. Bruce let go of her hand to favor her face, instead. She leaned into the touch with a shaky breath.

“I’m not Clark, Charlene,” he whispered. “I’m not going to keep stringing you along; I won’t compare you to anyone or make empty promises. You’re more than a comparison.” Bruce brushed her hair out of her face, keeping those electric blues trained on hers. “You don’t have to earn anything from me. You don’t have to earn me.”

“I’m not…” Charlene stopped, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to talk about this; she didn’t want to beat around the bush, either. “Gosh, how do you know this stuff? Is it all estimation?”

“Observation,” he admitted. He kissed her forehead. “Cheer up. We don’t want your mascara to run just yet, do we?”

She nodded, taking a deep breath in to calm herself. She hadn’t realized her eyes were quite that full. “Bruce.”

He hummed, arching a brow. Yes?

“You don’t have to earn anything from me, either.” She kissed his cheekbone. The corners of his eyes crinkled, which made her smile. She rested her head on the dark knight’s shoulder. “You’re a good man.”

“But?”

“No ‘but,’” she hummed. “You’re a good man, and that’s all.”

=-=-= Saturday morning, three weeks after the gala, Charlene’s heart felt heavy and light at the same time. She couldn’t put the gala out of her mind: the party; the guests; the smiles on the Wayne boys’ faces; Bruce’s kindness. She was trying her best to think it all over. The waiters kept offering her champagne, but she declined every time. She didn’t drink out of anxiousness, yet the whole ordeal was a blur. Blurry, except the speech about the children, and the way Bruce’s smile widened every time she smiled back.

She was sitting at the window, holding a water bottle and gazing out into the street. It was raining. She had a few pink roses in a vase, all from Bruce. A note was attached, something like “Thank you for your support,” but it didn’t really matter to her. He was gentle in his own way. That was just the way the Batman was: gentle and swift, yet blunt and cold at the same time. How had she managed to stumble into his good graces? What if she brought down his reputation? What if she did the wrong thing?

The Wayne boys were very polite. Dick was making her laugh all night long, Jason knew how to talk old-money downlookers away, Tim was a good conversationalist, and Damian asked all the good questions. All the right questions. Questions like, “What’s your relationship with my father? Do you believe in this cause? Are you using my father? Do you know how to play Mario Kart?”

She almost couldn’t answer some of the questions. Were she and Bruce friends? Were they something else? Were they acquaintances? Was she being kept around because she knew who Bruce really was? When it came to Mario Kart and the adoption cause, she couldn’t say anything but “Yes!” enthusiastically. Every now and then, Bruce would come over to recharge. He seemed tired with all the interaction. 

Then there was the turn of the night.

The most vivid part.

Dancing with Bruce Wayne.

Charlene stopped herself from clawing over her heart. It was sinking deeper as she recalled the moment.

“You’re nervous, Char,” Bruce whispered into her ear. “Why?” The question was innocent, concerning. He kept a steady hand on the small of her back, swaying to the beat of the soft jazz band. He was a natural at it. Charlene did her best to hold onto him, gripping his shoulder and his hand. 

“I’ve never been to anything like this, before. Not even some kind of prom,” she laughed quietly. She looked down at their feet. Bruce was leading, but what else was new? The floor gleamed… Bruce’s shoes were worn, despite his money and status… Worn shoes said a lot about how he spent his money on himself. Oh! Beneath the suit, it was clear that he wore a compact utility belt — at least, it was after learning he wore one everywhere. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing, at all,” Charlene continued. “After talking with your boys, it just made me realize how scared I was to be jumping into this life with you.” She cleared her throat as she prepared to tell him exactly what was on her mind. “I know I’m just on a leash to keep you guys safe. You really don’t need to worry about me.”

The dance halted. No one paid any attention to them, keeping up with the music and circling around them. “Is that what you think?” he asked. Amusement lined his words, as well as a vague hint of hurt. “You’re just a liability?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Charlene had answered honestly.

As of right now, she still felt like a liability. Even though Bruce had promised her she didn’t have to earn anything, her heart was having difficulty believing it. She looked over at her vase of roses. Were those flowers from him? Or were they a product of manners?

Was she seeing things that weren’t there?

Bruce had been so quick to answer her when she admitted her insecurities. He had taken his hand out of hers. “You’re not a liability.” He ran his hands through her hair, pulling her closer. “If you were a liability, I would have used other ways to keep an eye on you.”

Char’s heart was racing faster by the second. “Ba… Bruce…” She wanted to call him Bats. She wanted to say so many things, just then. She wondered if Bruce could feel her pulse through that utility belt he had under his suit. His eyes fluttered shut before she realized what was happening. She didn’t want to believe it was real.

With a never ending, agonizingly slow quickness, lips met hers. Moving, soft, warm lips met hers and drew a gasp from her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to reciprocate the best she could without losing her cool.

Now, three weeks later, she hadn’t talked to Bruce about it. She hadn’t brought it up. He didn’t verbally acknowledge it, so neither did she. A kiss with Mr. Wayne meant nothing. Not in public. Not when he had a false reputation of being a playboy. A kiss between them would have meant the world… but that was in the middle of a gala; in the middle of a party filled with people Bruce was supposed to impress. 

So, even though she loved that kiss, she was still confused about Clark and she was miserable about the manner it came about. She wanted to know the truth. She knew if she asked he would have an obvious answer and call her a fool for believing him. 

“Hey, Charlene?” Clark called. Her ears pricked back at the sudden noise. She stood up and walked downstairs, rubbing under her eyes to make sure there weren’t any tears. She hadn’t cried, yet, but she didn’t want to start crying over it, either. “Come here.” 

“What, Clark? Can’t you see I’m busy moping about — …what is that?” she yelped. Clark was standing with his writing tablet facing outward, a glower painted over his features. She could hardly care about his nasty expression, however. There she was, her yellow evening gown and Bruce’s hands laced in her hair, plastering the first article of the month. Big, bold words read: 

“Bruce Wayne Finds New Lover — Will It LAST?” 

“Who took that picture!?”

“You’re saying this is real?” he asked angrily. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. “Charlene!”

“I’m sorry!” she apologized, not really sorry. “We’re not lovers, anyway — it was one kiss. Who wrote the article?”

“You never kiss people you don’t know.” Clark turned the screen back to his face, scrolling down and shaking his head. “Jimmy wrote this one, I think, I recognize the alias. I should have known something was going to happen when I told him to follow you…”

“For the record, Clark, all I’ve ever wanted was to kiss you,” she snapped. “Bruce is just differe— you sent Jimmy to follow me!?” She was so engulfed in her defenses that she forgot she had just told Clark she had feelings for him. She didn’t even register the implication that they didn’t matter anymore. She was angry at Jimmy, and at Bruce, and at Clark. She grabbed a throw pillow and fluffed it furiously. She needed an outlet. “I can’t believe you.”

“It’s Bruce Wayne, Char,” he said. He set his tablet down on the coffee table. “He’s not exactly the safest guy to get involved with.”

“And neither were you! I appreciate the worry, but it’s misplaced.” She spun around to stick her finger at Clark accusingly. “For ten whole years I tried to tell you I was in love with you, Clark, so don’t even try to talk to me about what’s good for me! You hear? I can kiss Bruce Wayne if I want to.”

“You tell him, Char,” a small voice came from behind the TV stand. Charlene and Clark both froze. Charlene knew who that was. She did her best not to sigh.

Muffled, a much bigger voice complained, “Look what you did! Now we’re caught. Bruce is gonna —”

“Shh!”

Clark moved over and gently removed the TV stand. “Damian I expected, but you, Dick? That’s low. Spying on Charlene?” 

“She’s a friend of Father,” the young boy answered for his big brother. “After the gala, he went to brood in the Bat Cave and when he came up, he said she was going to be more involved.”

“I think he’ll be happy to hear you like him, Charlene,” Dick smiled. He extended his legs and sat like a toddler on the floor. “We came here on our own, by the way. We wanted to surprise you by picking you up and surprise him by bringing you to Gotham. We racked his schedule up with business meetings so that we could pull this off. Think of it as a rescue.”

“Surprise me,” she regurgitated. She wanted to cry, laugh, scream, and fall over all at once. “You wanted to surprise me.”

“Sure. Why not?” Damian shrugged. “But your friend, here, got in the way with all his mumbling and weird comments about our father. He’s scary but I could take him.” That comment made her smile. Damian taking on Clark. Dangerous, but it still tickled her mind.

“They were not weird —”

“Yeah, they were.” 

“Guys, guys,” Charlene interjected, “Bruce and I aren’t much more than friends. He’s just my knight in shining armor.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “If anything were to happen, it would be very slow.” She made sure each male looked at her. “Very, very slow.” 

“So he does make you happy?” Clark asked quietly. 

“He does,” Charlene confirmed. “It could be more with work. Relax, Clark. You’re not going to be walking me down the aisle so soon.” 

He squeezed his eyes tightly, confusion coloring his face. “So when you said you used to want to kiss me…”

“It’s mostly ‘used to,’ now, yeah.” Charlene’s mouth moved before she even filed how truthful the statement was in her brain. She sat down on the couch, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I hope that’s not an issue — I know you don’t approve of Bruce.”

Clark pursed his lips. He set his hands on his hips and looked at the two delinquents on Charlene’s floor. “The gala with you and Wayne wasn’t a full-on date. Was it?”

“He and I went to sponsor the same cause and spend time together as friends. It couldn’t have counted as a romantic date, anyway,” she said. “The boys spent more time talking to me than Bruce did.”

“I saw him kiss you, though —”

“Dick, shut up,” Damian hissed. “You’re not helping.”

Clark tried for a smile. “I just want you to be safe and happy, Charlene.”

Charlene nodded, feeling much better since the gala. She had made an impression on the Wayne family? “I know I will be.”

=-=-= Charlene, in the end, told the boys she wanted to stay at home and sent Clark back to the Daily Planet to do his work. She had a lot to think over. She took a seat in her loveseat and got comfortable. She had to sit there for a long while. A kiss with a billionaire, a concerned Kansas Chiefs fan, four young men who already looked up to her, and a melting pot of feelings. If this were a young adult novel, she would have already picked someone by now. She had roses in a vase that called her name. She had a heart that wanted her attention, too.

Her whole past screamed for her to let go of Clark Kent — she was learning to set those unrequited feelings aside. He had always looked out for her and been her friend. Sometimes friendship, in the end, was just friendship. Clark was in love with Lois Lane. By the looks of things, he was starting to grow closer to her. Stepping away from that, Charlene could see he was happy; for the first time in years, that didn’t sting as much as it had before. 

Then there was the new friendship: Bruce Wayne. He was more than a friend, but less than a romantic partner. His affection was a different brand than Clark’s in all the good ways. He brought some kind of freshness, a sense that she never had to pretend to be pulling herself together. She knew deep in her heart that Bruce would have a hard time being with her — she would find difficulty being with him, too. They had much in common, as well as a lot of differences. He saw through her, she saw through him. Charlene needed some kind of stability. She needed a friend that offered their hand instead of shared reliance. 

Clark was the bright summer’s day that you longed for in the winter; he was the smell of newly cut grass and the way a paintbrush head felt between someone’s fingers. He was khakis and ball caps and the colors in the sunrise. He had always been the simple pleasures in Char’s life. 

Bruce Wayne had already proved what he was. He was the necessity in life like the clap of thunder in the middle of the night or the hardwood floor on bare feet. Bruce was the crowded streets of Metropolis after dusk; he was petrichor after a much-needed rain, the thimble on your thumb, he was the flick of the light switch that you could never balance. He was the mundane, everyday wakeup call that life was buzzing everywhere around her.

That was the difference between Clark and Bruce. Charlene had always had Clark, but she could imagine life without him. When it came to the Batman, she had a hard time thinking about her life without the petrichor on concrete, the snippy wind on her ears, and the occasional clap of thunder. She didn’t need him, but he was her equal.

He was the equal. 

Not the hero. 

“I’ll have to tell him, then,” she sighed. Charlene buried her face in her hands. 

“Tell who what?” a gravelly voice came from behind her. His presence was close. Char leaned back and extended her hands. 

“You,” she said. Bruce pushed her hands back down, setting his own on the cushion behind her. “We need to talk about what happened at the gala, don’t we?” 

“I don’t see why,” he replied. “You know it was a public display of affection.”

“From the world’s Bruce Wayne,” Charlene countered. Bruce pressed his lips into a line. “Not mine.”

“I know. I figured if the world knew you were Bruce Wayne’s, it would give you a chance to find that time you wanted,” he said slowly. “The boys could teach you how to defend yourself. You’d always have a place at Wayne Manor.”

“But what about us?” she asked, turning to see him better. “C’mon, Bats, you know that kiss was a little more than just a well-rounded plan to turn me into a Bat-Person.”

The dark knight was still for a long second. “It was a moment’s weakness. Even if we wanted to pursue a relationship —”

“We both know we do.”

“— neither of us are ready for it.”

Charlene stood on the loveseat. She cupped Bruce’s face, holding his jaw with both palms. “I agree. I think we should take our time before we even worry about labeling this.”

“We cannot be involved.” He held her hands, prying them ever-so-gingerly from him. “You aren’t ready for the livestyles I come with. I’m not ready for that kind of —”

“Domesticity,” she said with him, nodding. “I know, I know. You don’t want to be a husband, I don’t want to be a wife. No, we can’t be involved, yet.” She rested on her forearms. “You can guess what that means.”

He smiled sadly. “You won’t come stay at Wayne Manor.”

“Not for extended periods of time,” she answered with the same bittersweet expression. Char stroked his cheek. He had been so open to her physical affection. “It wouldn’t really work the way we want it to.” 

“You mean Alfred will be asking about dress shopping?”

“I’ll be asking about dress shopping!” she teased. “Why are you here, exactly?”

“If I said that you no longer worked at the Daily Planet, what would you do?” he asked bluntly. 

Charlene stopped. “I would ask you to fix it, right now.”

He hummed. “You want Clark, still?”

“No,” she said defiantly. She crossed her arms. “I’m just not ready to date, yet.” Charlene was quickly learning how to own herself around Bruce. She felt at home, like he was at home in his spandex. Bruce made her feel like her own woman: strong, compassionate, and happy. If he could be her complement, she could do anything. Absolutely anything.

Bruce leaned in, smirking. Charlene hit him with a pillow, which he promptly caught. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Promise to try someday?” she teased.

“Maybe.”

[kaidans-alenko]

I have to ask about -> Illicit affairs(Jane/Kaidan), I'm really curious about it!! Thanks for the tag btw (I've already done it, but it's soooo nice to be remembered 🥰🥰🥰)

It was inspired by a couple lines in me3 if you cheat on Liara with Kaidan she'll say 'I hear you've taken up with Kaidan >:(' and later in his love scene at the end Kaidan will say 'I couldn't believe you were with Liara instead of me' and I was more than a little inspired by it.

So basically it's a love triangle(would be square but her and garrus are just fwb)

Jane never breaks up with Liara but her and Kaidan are tired of pretending they don't feel anything for each other so instead of handling it like adults they go behind Laira's back and start an affair.

Which understandably is hard to do on a war ship but they pull it off somehow until shore leave comes around and she starts to catch on.

here's a little from a drabble I wrote for them a while ago

Kaidan glanced up, watching Liara as she stood at the front. Holding Jane's name plaque.

It should've been him, not that this situation was ideal but it should be him up there. It wasn't his place though, despite what Jane had said and what he wanted to believe their relationship was nothing but an affair.

His place wasn't next to the Commander, it never had been. Yet when she said 'I love you, always.' He could've sworn she was looking at him. Not Liara. Him.

It was probably just wishful thinking, like his whole relationship with her had been. He was an idiot, let himself get caught up in a stupid love triangle he had no business being in.

Not that it mattered, Jane was dead. Whatever they had was over just as quickly as it had started and he couldn't even mourn her.

Not publicly anyway. He had to do it late at night in his bunk. Eyes bloodshot from staring at pictures of her all night until he fell asleep.

He'd do anything to have her back, even if he had to watch from the side lines as she lived out the rest of her life with Liara or even someone else entirely. At least she would be alive.

[omisbreakfast]

i rank every summer outfits from a3! because??

because i can. also fuck you.

the first version of this was deleted by tumblr in my drafts and now i have to re write it entirely and i fucking hate it here... anyways.

i’m biased as fuck

sorry it’s a long post

harugumi :

itaru : yeah no actually it’s pretty fine. ngl itaru is kinda hot when he dress correctly so there’s that. also, he’s often in pink. it suits him, but i don’t like it. still.... cute. but it’s also itaru so not too much praises. 9/10

citron : why.......... the shoes.... what the fuck are those shoes.... where did you even find them..... do you wanna fight or something.... this fills me with rage... you’ve disappointed me, citron... also hate the shirt. 3/10

tsuzuru : casual, soft, classic boy... nothing much to say here. but WHY THE FUCKING HAT??? IT RUINS EVERYTHING...... at least wear it correctly PLEASE. YOU DUMABSS. and the shoes would have been better in another color. i just,,,,, why tsuzuru, why the hat... 4/10

sakuya : i can’t bring myself to say bad things about sakuya. (also the fact that i don’t remember what i wrote before the first version of this post got deleted in my drafts pisses me off) but like,,, he’s cute. i mean it’s a classic outfit. tho the choice of the shirt is questionable as fuck. also HES SO TINY BABY. 6/10

masumi : yeah no actually i like it. i really like the shirt for some reason, it suits him. BUT BUT BUT the pants looks weird as hell LMAO?? like... it makes him looks like a crotch less ken doll??? it’s,,, really weird. also the shoes are.... hmmm.... overall good balance but there’s some weird stuffs going on. 7/10

chikage : garbage boy stink man. fucking looks like a rich white boy coming home from tennis and i fucking hate it here ™ if i’m objective about this it’s actually NOT bad but it loses several points for the sole reason that it’s fucking chikage and i won’t take shit for it. 6/10

natsugumi :

kazunari : why. why do you do this. why. why. how am i supposed to ever learn how to love when you backstab me like this, kaz ? what do we do now ? i trusted you and you betrayed me. i can never find love ever again............ yeah ok. pls let’s skip to the next one.... 2/10 (and two points is because it’s kaz and i just can’t bring myself to truly hate him.)

yuki : it’s not bad but i hate this dress. like. his outfits are usually ok but this? no. YOU LOOK LIKE A GOOD CHRISTIAN BOY, DAMN IT YUKI. are YOU GOING TO CHURCH TO PRAISE THE LORD TODAY TOO? also the colour of it... no. 4/10

tenma : congrats you rich boy you finally have a decent outfit ! though i don’t understand the concept of your zip being infront but ok. bet his stans like it smh. also i like the color of his jacket. very nice. 8/10

muku : baby i love u so much but u look like the pinterest girls who take aesthetic pictures in flowers fields and are smiling like the sun @ the camera.......... which is not per se but it’s a whole vibe. also stop wearing orange. it doesn’t go with your hair well........ ilu cutie. 8/10

misumi : my sweet boy. why are you wearing an hoodie with a jacket. why. it’s summer you idiot. you’ll get overheated. stop. but overall he looks very nice. idk i just think he’s neat......... i. i love u @ misumi. 9/10 (don’t look at me)

kumon : he... he looks like.... a j-j-j*ck..... which he is............... i just........... oh my god. i love kumon but he IS a jock i JUST ???? LALFKGKK. also his fucking shoes makes me lose my mind because this is so fucking bullshit ???? so ugly it hurts my eyes.... he’s lucky he’s a good boy. 4/10

akigumi :

juza : nah he hot as hell in this pass on it. if you’re asking yourself why he looks so good, here’s your answer : his arms. his arms are great. i can excuse his sandales this time cuz IT IS summer but yeah. yeah no he’s cute and- yeah. ok. yeah. hm hm. 9.5/10

taichi : so the thing with taichi is that his style is NOT bad per se but like. he’s a skater boy. so my standards are already very low for him,,,, like no offence i love taichi so much but,,,, that’s how it be.... his shirts are usually so big he looks like a GOD DAMN FLAG i can’t with this. and i don’t like how baggy his pants are but yeah,,,, it’s just a whole look.... anyways................ 6/10

omi : in which yosei boys decided to fucking test my patience by putting on classic, good looking clothes and decided to absolutely ruin my entire hopes and dreams (if i’m being dramatic ? no i am not.) AND their WHOLE outfits adding an useless stupid fucking hat thay doesnt seems even to be worn properly. omi, tsuzuru, you’ll pay for this. 7/10

sakyo : (i’m tired as heck and i almost forgot about sakyo when he’s right in the middle) actually i like this. it’s color coordinated and i think that’s very nice. but i wish his pants would have been a little bit longer. yeah no that’s it for real. also idk what’s about this outfit but he really shows how skinny he really is LMAOOO. shithead sakyo. 8/10

azami : the thing about azami is that usually his upper half is pretty well dressed, or whatever, but when we look at his pants/shoes its where everything goes to shit. Like ???? what the fuck man you could have done so much better if you didn’t decide to put this gigantic pants who looks like you’re gonna fly with it or fucking whatever (i don’t need to make sense i’m TIRED) also his shoes bothers me. can’t believe he’s fucking 15 like shut up. 6/10

banri : ...... *inhales* FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUU. fuck you and your ugly ass little hat and your zombie like haircut i. fucking despise you. if he were standing right infront of me, no he wouldn’t be because he would deck him so hard. YOU HAVE THE MONEY TO BUY CLOTHES AND THE TIME TO TRY AND MAKE IT LOOK GOOD ?? SO WHY???? what’s going on in your ugly ass little head bitch. THANK YOU god he isn’t wearing any animal prints in this, thats one thing. imagine this awful outfit with the ugly shoes and stUPID FUCKING HAT that i hate, with a leopard print shirt.... yeah cursed. i know. sorry banri stans i cant hear you over the sound of your man fishing with joe and bertrand on a sunday morning at 6am. 3/10

fuyugumi :

tasuku : ... idk man. he’s just there. why is... his shoes... so flashy........ bruh...... also he looks like a very straight man and idk how to feel about this. we know u gay bitch. 7/10

hisoka : except for the fucking weird ass pants it’s actually ok. he looks.... very comfy. 10/10 would CUDDLE...... pls hisoka.... i’m tired... fluffy boy..... ugh..... i don’t have much to say about this ok he just.... spare some cuddles. 7/10

actually i like it. well. there’s two things that bothers me. GREEN. DOESN’T. SUIT. HIM. PERIOD. if u think otherwise i’m sorry. it’s just awful with his purple hair (or whatever color it is) imo. and the second..... the square should have been a triangle. i won’t take no’s. 8.5/10

tsumugi : ngl tsumugi gives me little lost boy looking for his mommy vibes. at first i thought it was his outfits but no, it’s just his face. and this ? doesn’t make it better. idk how to explain but how he wears his shirt makes it look like he’s floating and it’s kinda cute in a... special way. he’s just a very sweet boy. 7/10

azuma : i can’t bring myself to even say bad things about azuma... it’s physical. i just can’t. i have a theory his power is that strong and therefore i cannot critizice this beauty. he just. is. ya know........ sigh...... 9/10

guy : if he dresses like this, that’s.... that’s not your man, ladies. that’s your loving, hardworking and dedicated husband who just went to pick some flowers in the prairies next to your little farm in the middle of the nowhere but who’s still paradise on earth cuz it’s the two of you and you couldn’t ask for anything more. deadass. fucking peasants. 4/10

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Okay so Sooga can't cook. But can Master Kohga cook? And would he try to teach Sooga, for a bit of domestic fluff goodness??

Imma make this as fluffy as I can for you, anon! I’m gonna be SUPER busy, so some asks will probably be on the back burner. Having said that, Imma dip into these when I can because you guys have SUCH good ideas?? 

Also It’s not that Sooga can’t cook, he just can’t cook WELL. Stuff is always off with his cooking. Too salty, too sweet, undercooked, SOMETHING. Kohga is picky so he notices. Either way, let’s GO!

“Urbosa! Get over here!”

Kohga (as well as the champions) had been spending all day together in the kitchen (upon prompting from Zelda), and Kohga had more or less commanded the cooking area. When Kohga wasn’t busy killing people or sleeping, he was being a rather pleasant company to have around. He started off by making drinks, and Sooga offered to help. Which was apparently a bit of a mistake. Urbosa sighed as she left the table, and walked behind the counter. Kohga motioned to two cups.

“You try one, and tell me which one has alcohol in it.”

Urbosa tried one, then another, lightly shaking her head.

“One on the left? Right one tastes just like juice.”

Kohga motioned wildly to the cups, as if they made a scientific discovery.

“Ha! See, that’s the thing! BOTH do! Somehow!”

“I...don’t put enough alcohol, that’s the hint I’m getting.”

“No matter how many times I shove MY dick in THAT ass, he makes drinks like a FUCKING virgin! You know what, get a fucking apron on, I’m teaching you how to be competent in the kitchen. You can’t JUST have a top notch cock, you dumbshit.”

Kohga turned around to get them both an apron, and Urbosa chuckled at his puzzled reaction.

“Hey, he does have a point. Everyone should learn how to cook. Besides, him being this upset just means he really loves you.”

“Don’t you DARE make me out to be mushy, Urbosa!”

Kohga walked back up to them, throwing a pink apron at Sooga’s face. Urbosa chuckled as Kohga put his own on. It was clear she was right, but the relationship was still new to him, so he was still in denial of his feelings. Urbosa grabbed one of the drinks (Kohga’s, obviously), and shrugged.

“I’ll just be taking this then, carry on love birds.”

Kohga lifted a finger to retort, before Urbosa turned around and joined Daruk back at the table. Kohga waved her off, muttering something under his breath. Sooga couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re just charming, Master Kohga.”

“Save the sweet for the cooking, tits mcgee.”

Kohga patted his left tit, before going to the sink and washing his hands, Sooga following suit.

“So? What will we be making?”

“Good question. What do you WANT to make?”

“Hmm...what’s something YOU like?”

“Kiss ass.”

Kohga chuckled, drying his hands with a towel. Sooga honestly just lived for Kohga, and it was terribly sweet of him.

“Alright, let’s do crepes with fried bananas.”

Sooga nodded, more than confident enough to prove himself. Kohga dug into the cabinets to grab everything (with help from Sooga. Tall bastard), before Kohga put two bowls in front of them.

“Now, follow me. We’re gonna add a cup of the tabantha flour. Then, a tablespoon of sugar.”

“I always thought it was a cup of both.”

“No wonder you always burn those fuckers- that much sugar burns it, you dumbshit. Now, not everyone does this, but they SHOULD. Add some salt, help balance out. If you think a food doesn’t need SOME salt, you’re wrong.”

Sooga nodded along, carefully listening and following his instructions, as if this was a training session. 

“How did you learn all this?”

“Mom taught me. She loved cooking, but she worked hard, so sometimes she was too tired to cook. When I got older, I ended up doing the cooking around the house. You only get better the more you do it. Except YOUR drinks, you’re hopeless.”

“Like my love for you.”

“Iean down, imma smack you upside the head.”

Sooga chuckled, watching his little master grumble to himself. Kohga took out another bowl, and added milk, as well as an egg.

“Now. You mix the wet and the dry together.”

“Why not just do it all together to begin with?”

“Lumps, you get lots of ‘em if you do that.”

Sooga nodded, watching as Kohga mixed the ingredients in their separate bowls. Sooga could watch Kohga cook all day, if he let him. Sooga copied Kohga as they mixed the dry and wet together, whisking it till it was nice and liquidy.

“It’s supposed to be this liquidy?”

“Yeah, any thicker and it’s a pancake. Now, we’re gonna put this in the fridge for as long as we can, get some flavor out of it.”

“What do we do while we wait?”

Sooga took the bowls, and put them in the fridge, just in time to catch Kohga grabbing bananas and putting them on a cutting board.

“We prep everything else. This should be easy for you. I need you to cut all these in little squares. And listen to me while I show you what I’m doing, but be careful.”

“Afraid I’ll cut myself?”

Sooga grinned as he peeled the bananas, starting to cut. One thing Sooga was VERY good at in the kitchen, was cutting. Always clean, always uniform. Kohga dug into the bag of sugar that he had at his side, and tossed a bit towards Sooga’s apron. Wasteful? A bit, but Sooga’s dumb smile was getting on his nerves.

“If you don’t, at this point I will. Now, I’m gonna throw some butter in this pan, and we’re gonna add the bananas here soon as you’re done. This, and some whipped cream, is gonna be our filling.”

“Doesn’t it burn if it’s hot?”

“If you actually know how it works, no.”

Sooga was careful not to cut himself as he watched Kohga throw butter, sugar, and some spices onto the pan. He watched as the sugar browned slightly, and Kohga motioned for Sooga to pour the fruit in. Once it was inside, Kohga handed him the spatula.

“Now, keep mixing it. Don’t change the temp, don’t let it sit.”

Sooga watched as Kohga grabbed a bag of acorns and chickaloo tree nuts. He cracked them surprisingly effortlessly in his hands, quickly and efficiently separating the shells from the insides. Sooga found it hard to pay attention to the pan, and his Master’s hands. How did hands so soft and lovely make such hard work look so easy?

“Is that going in the batter?”

“No, with the bananas. Adds some crunch, and a little bit of sweet.”

Kohga’s arm pushed against him as he added the nuts to the pan, motioning for Sooga to keep going. 

“Now, this is just how I like it, but we’re gonna add a swig of apple juice. Adds a BIT of tart, because this is going to be sweet as hell. Especially since we’re gonna add a touch of rum, to taste.”

“...Master Kohga?”

“Don’t tell me I lost you already, big guy.”

“Just in your eyes, Master Kohga.”

Kohga looked up at him, and reached his hand up, pushing him away a bit.

“You are SO mushy. No wonder you can’t cook right, you’re too busy ogling me all damn day.”

“You make it quite hard to focus.”

He chuckled. He kept mixing, as he was instructed. Kohga added butter to the pan, shaking his head at Sooga’s stupidity. He was just, such a lovestruck idiot. Once the butter started to lightly bubble, Kohga dug into the fridge, bringing out the batter.

“Okay, let’s start the important part. You can turn that off, cover it with the pot lid. I’m gonna let you do the first one. Three tablespoons into the pan.”

Kohga gave him the proper pouring tool, and Sooga obeyed. He was about to ask what to do next, when Kohga held onto his hand, helping him turn the pan. Sooga could chuckle like a lovesick fool right now, honestly. He really did have nice, soft hands, and Sooga wanted to hold them forever.

“Tilt to get it everywhere. Nice and slow, get it everywhere. Three minutes, then flip. Anymore and it’s like eating a damn ear. Speaking of ears, are you listening?”

“To every word, Master Kohga. Every single, solitary word.”

Kohga turned to look at him, finally seeing why he sounded more stupid than usual. He was SWOONING. Literally looking at him, and SWOONING like an idiot. Kohga scoffed, flipping the crepe for him.

“Alright, then listen to this. See how it’s got a nice, brown crust? We want it kinda crispy.”

Kohga let Sooga ogle him for three minutes, before finally taking it out of the pan, setting it onto a table.

“Taste it.”

“You?”

“W-no, the crepe you dingbat!”

Even Kohga had to chuckle at that. It’s why Kohga never let his ass watch him cook, it was just. All of this. They split the crepe, and Sooga nodded.

“You’re truly wonderful, Master Kohga. It’s lovely.”

“Good. Now, you’re turn, all by yourself.”

Kohga was going to step back, but Sooga’s puppy dog eyes kept him standing right there. Sooga added the batter to the pan, carefully turning the mixture till it coated the whole pan. He waited the three minutes, before flipping it. Kohga nodded in approval.

“Good crust, good crust. Keep it going.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Kohga sat there, watching his Sooga make crepe after crepe, and Kohga couldn’t help but chuckle. He was constantly asking if it was okay, constantly peering over him for approval. Honestly, if Kohga told this man to get him a piece of the moon, Sooga wouldn’t hesitate to reach for the stars. Soon enough, there wasn’t any mix left, in turn, leaving quite a stack of crepes. Kohga flipped through the stack, nodding.

“Better. Though some are a bit darker than others. We’ll work on that. Now, best part.”

Kohga placed one on the plate, added a hefty dollop of cream and honey, then folded it into a nice triangle like shape. Sooga watched him carefully, clearly wanting it to be perfect. Kohga folded another with cream and honey, then another. His usual was three at a time, but he might just have more (to support Sooga of course). He topped it off with the banana mixture, and dusted it with powdered sugar, just to make it look good. Sooga followed his stead, though he didn’t do it so cleanly. Folding it was hard for him apparently, causing him to get whipped cream all over his fingers, and even on his mask. It was a sloppy plate, but it was Sooga’s plate. Kohga shook his head once he saw the state of Sooga.

“For the love of- get over here, idiot.”

Kohga grabbed a hold of his face, wiping the cream off of his mask. Sooga sat there, letting him do so with such loving eyes. It was totally gross, in a sweet way.

“Master Kohga?”

“If the question is ‘am I an idiot’, then absolutely.”

Sooga chuckled, lightly shaking his head.

“I just...thank you. I enjoy listening to you when you teach. You love what you do, and there’s something so absolutely beautiful about that.”

“Yeah yeah...well. I like teaching you. You’re eager to learn.”

“I’m eager for YOU, Master Kohga.”

“Well geez Sooga, I know I’m pretty sweet, but-”

Before Kohga could finish his retort, Sooga suddenly lifted him off the floor, lifting their masks up a bit, and kissing him, right in his gorgeous lips. Was it a bit much, nearly throwing Kohga onto the counter and leering over him to kiss him? Absolutely, but neither seemed to care in the slightest. Just for a minute, they were there in an embrace, as sweet as sweet could be. Totally ignoring the table of people just a few feet away. Daruk lightly coughed, trying to ignore the fact that Sooga’s tight grip on his Master’s ass was smearing whipped cream everywhere.

“I...don’t think we’re gonna be eatin’ anything any time soon.”

[mychemicalraymance]

frank iero stupid square face dumb rectangle noodle head mother fucker I hate you dumb square idiot head shape bitch fuck off with your head triangle chin pointy cube head square shape

[vanaera]

Love at First Snow (jhs)

Synopsis | It is during the first snow Hoseok first meets Y/N. It is also during the first snow he prepares to put a ring on her. Little does he know, fate has other plans. (OR: As Hoseok relishes in the spirit of the Holiday season, he cannot help but also reminisce how you two, though entire polar opposites of each other, ended up together. Characters | dance major (and “academically-challenged”)!Hoseok x Genius!female reader (College AU) Prompt | “You know, you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Genre | Fluff, Humor, Angst Wordcount | 16.9k (I’m sorry, this ended up longer than I intended) Warnings | Discussions of verbal abuse from toxic families and mentions of panic attacks A/N | Hi Cristine! It is I, snowflake, your secret santa! This is my gift for @bts-poetry for @bangtanarmynet, and @btsbookclub ‘s Secret Santa 2019 event! I combined this gift with the prompt I claimed in @kwritersworld’s 2019 Christmas Event as my inspirations for both events have merged into one story hehe.

              Everyone has some titles to live by. “Well-versed lawyer,” “patient teacher,” “single mother,” “broke student”—one-liner characteristics and descriptions enough for people to summarize the entirety of one another. From each other’s greatest achievements to their itty bitty mistakes, any of them can be used to replace an identifier. After all, people always see what they want to see. It all depends on what title sticks out the most to the majority around them.  For Jung Hoseok, he lives up to the title of a lovable boyfriend and a rare one, too. As whenever people look at him, the first thing they see is the aberrance of how he ended up….dating Y/N.

              There’s nothing wrong with him, or Y/N for that matter. It’s just…they are the most impossible couple to end up together as they are the most literal polar opposites of each other.

             People remember Jung Hoseok as the golden dance major of the prestigious South Tigers University. He got into the Performing Arts program, Major in Dance by acing the laborious dance audition despite his unimpressive results in the written exam. Hoseok’s colorful background from his long-term dance crew, Hope World, and his countless wins in different hip hop dance competitions were more than enough proof to know he is indeed one of the top dancers of the university. With a body capable of executing each move ever known to humankind with such grace and precision, Jung Hoseok also has a stage presence that warrants everyone’s unbridled attention. Thus, it is without question he is the prided Most Valuable Dancer of his university’s varsity dance crew, Synergy. The long line-up of trophies Synergy has placed in STU’s hall of glory, all thanks to the competitions Hoseok led, are enough to say Hoseok is literally the modern-day Apollo.

             However, it is not just his talent or insanely god-like face and physique that makes Hoseok so “golden.” Because as if Apollo wasn’t enough, Hoseok also impersonated Helios. Jung, Hoseok is warm and kind and funny. He easily makes everyone want to be his bestfriend the moment they met him. Most people often speak of him first thing in the morning with another wonderful feat he pulled off. Hoseok is great in the things he does — playing as the great wingman for people who need the extra push in their romances or becoming the occasional teacher’s pet who goes to the professor and (easily) successfully convinces them to give the class a deadline extension for a requirement. Hoseok turns up every campus party into the happiest event anyone could ever be in and he is such an amazing, sincere friend who remembers everyone’s birthday and gives out the nicest of hugs. Hell, Hoseok even volunteers in long-inactive “dead” college organizations like the Campus Drunk Patrol, Environment Protection Squad, and Animal Welfare Group in his free time. Hoseok is the literal sun and anyone who knows him — which is literally, everyone — will never be unable to deny otherwise.

             So when Hoseok expressed romantic interest in Y/N in sophomore year, everyone around him was beyond bewildered. Most especially, his friends.

             “Y/N?” Jimin sputters, “as in…The Y/N, L/N from our batch?”

             “Well, yeah-”

             “Like the Analytical Physics major Y/N L/N?” Taehyung gapes.

             “Yeah, I mean,” Hoseok sends them a questioning look, “is there any other Y/N L/N?”

             Taehyung scratches his head. “Well, no…I just thought there’s a Y/N in another batch?”

             Hoseok gives him a pointed look, unamused.

             But Taehyung’s true sentiment is voiced out when Jimin half-screams at their table, “Why her?!”

             “Well, why not her?” Hoseok half-smiles, picking on the fries that were dropped scattered onto the table after Jimin unceremoniously pounded his fist on the surface in an act of over-exaggeration.

             Taehyung sends Hoseok a disgusted look but continues his friend’s argument, “Dude, she’s like, the entire opposite of you.”

             “And that is an understatement.” Jimin points a fry toward his direction, glaring at Hoseok.

             Hoseok huffs, “Oh c'mon, you’re all just going overboard. What happened to the golden rule ‘don’t judge a book by its cover?’”

             “First of all, Y/N’s not a book,” Jimin scoffs. “She’s like, the whole fucking library of science textbooks. Last sem, we’re busy doing a group project when Y/N suddenly spewed some SOHCAHTOA shit about the Bermuda Triangle. As if the things she said are already a whole level of weird, she even said them in a manner like Liam Neeson’s ‘I don’t know who you are but I’m going to kill you’ monologue from Taken. And second of all, the golden rule is ‘do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you,’ dumbass.”

             “Okay I got the golden rule wrong,” Hoseok groans, “but nevertheless, you’re still violating it by judging Y/N.”

             “In our defense tho,” Taehyung mumbles over the straw of his milkshake, “Y/N judged us first. I was watching Orange one time in the library and she came over and took a seat with me. And then she said some alien gibberish about how Naho Takamiya always fall stupidly on the stairs because she said, by verbatim, ‘according to basic logic and common sense, that’s not how projectiles work,’” Taehyung clicks his tongue and Jimin cringes. Taehyung continues, “Y/N said Naho wouldn’t fly to the hallway when she tripped on the actual steps. She even actually drew a diagram with computations of Naho’s fall and gave it to me before she abruptly got up and go. God, I’ve never felt so stupid and insulted both at the same time.”

             “And,” Jimin adds, “last December, I shared a meme on Facebook about turning on your brain instead of your heart this coming 2017 and guess what she did? She commented below “guess, you’ll just die of heart failure before 2017 even comes.” Jimin rolls his eyes, “She made me feel dumb as if I don’t know how heart failure works. So us judging her back is just fair and square.”

             “But you don’t actually know how heart failure works,” Hoseok retorts. He glares at Taehyung, “And dude, to be honest, Orange is overrated and Naho really flies whenever she trips, or gets tripped, on the stairs.” Hoseok throws up his hands in annoyance. “Seriously, are you two judging her for just…I don’t know, being smart?!”

             Taehyung sighs. “Okay, that’s a bit true, but the thing is, Hobi, our IQ levels are already a bit higher than yours—”

             “What’s that got to do with this?!”

             “—And if Y/N’s already treating us like the biggest idiots of the world,” Jimin continues Taehyung’s words, “then what chance do you have in having a decent conversation with her? Much less a more fruitful one that could end up in a romantic relationship? There’s like a 99.9 percent sure-ness she will make you more of an idiot than us!”

             “Yeah,” Taehyung nods. “Her thoughts are composed of quadratic formulas and science shit like ‘the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.’ While I’m not even sure you know what DNA stands for.”

             Hoseok gawks, “Of course I know what DNA stands for!”

             “Then say it,” Jimin cocks a brow.

             “Dual Nucleus Association—fuck, why am I even doing this—” Hoseok glares at his friends, “What do you take me for? An imbecile?”

             “Well, yeah,” Taehyung says honestly.

             “That’s why right now, we’re telling you to drop anything you’re feeling in that,” Jimin points to Hoseok’s chest, “for Y/N. Hell, how will you even click together? Y/N’s allergic to nonsense and emojis and your daily vocabulary is entirely nonsense and eggplant emojis.”

             Hoseok opens his mouth to argue he also knows about the clown emoji but before he can utter a word, Taehyung beats him to it.

             “Dude, we’re not telling you this to insult you.” Jimin snorts and Taehyung closes his eyes before he looks again at Hoseok’s eyes, “Okay, maybe we’re enjoying teasing you a little too much. But we can say this is just payback for you not letting us go home earlier yesterday because you said we ‘need improvement’ which I damn well think not, bitch.” Hoseok squirms and Taehyung claps his shoulder hard, making him wince. “Anyway, what we’re trying to say, Hoseok, is we just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

             “How will I get hurt?! Nothing’s happened yet. I’m just saying I like Y/N—”

             “That’s what we’re worried about, Hoseok,” Jimin cuts him. “Nothing’s happened yet but we know something already did.”

            “Like what?”

            “You like Y/N. That’s the problem,” Jimin deadpans. “Hoseok we know you like to take relationships seriously. We even know that when you set your heart on a girl, your imagination is already two steps ahead, playing your wedding in your head.”

            Hoseok gulps, a guilty sweat forming on his temple.

            “But you see, Y/N belongs to that type of people who have their what-will-you-be-in-10-years solidly planted in their heads. And it’s highly probable a relationship, much less a wedding, is written in those 10-year plans. Much more, art majors like us are stigmatized to bound for failure because society is still close-minded and deems art won’t feed us. And by the meaning of society, it’s the ‘almighty and noble’ science folks Y/N belongs to. For God’s sake, there’s a lot of movies that have already forecasted science and art don’t mix!” 

            “Well, I don’t remember any movies—”

            Taehyung looks at Hoseok, incredulous. “Dude, there’s like The Theory of Everything—”

             “That’s science and faith!”

            “Stephen Hawking’s ex-wife sang in a choir. And she also started writing after their divorce! So that’s still art!”

            Hoseok was about to retaliate when he feels Jimin clasp a firm hand on his shoulder. He looks at him. Jimin sighs, “Hoseok, we just want you to not regret your decisions in the end. Y/N belongs to those snobbish high-hat people who treat everyone below them like dirt. There’s plenty of other girls out there who are much nicer than Y/N. Nice just like you. For one, why don’t you try giving a chance to the girls who’ve been crushing on you since freshman year? I know a few and they’re actually sweet. Just anyone who’s not Y/N. Seriously, just trust us on this, Hobi.”

             Except Hoseok does not. If there is one characteristic to describe Hoseok other than nice and talented, that would be his hard-headedness. He didn’t listen to his parents when they tried to discourage him from taking dance as his major. Hoseok disregarded numerous peers’ suggestions to join a frat so he can “shine more.” He even disregarded the toxic masculinity fraternities promoted by rocking pink overalls with his sparkly ugly sneakers and multicolored acorn pouch (which Jimin told him was the bane of the entire fashion industry) at least once a week. He even changes it up with other colorful ensembles the fashion students make. Hoseok did not even listen to Taehyung when the former told him not to drink before taking their finals in World History because, "no Hoseok, the alcohol does NOT bring back memories.”

             And look where his stubbornness got him. Hoseok became one of the greatest dancers his university has ever handled. His sole talent is enough for him to get invited to teach classes in several prestigious art colleges in the country. Hoseok gained more fulfilling and growth-inspiring friendships than surface-level ones offered by frats. He enjoyed more substantial conversations than booze temptation and toxic, trivial fights over games and girls. Hoseok even accidentally created a modeling career with local brands after his viral modeling of a peach acorn-inspired outfit for the project of his fashion major friends. Although him disregarding Taehyung’s reminders was a big mistake as he totally flunked World History, that night actually made Hoseok learn his lesson not to drink before the finals (and also because he learned the alcohol does not bring back memories he actually needed for the exam. But memories of his most embarrassing moments — like the one where he ended up performing in a children’s party as a fairy godmother—complete with the rainbow gown, fairy wings, plastic crown, and wand—because he mixed up the location of the college’s Halloween party with his friend’s family get-together).

             So, why would Hoseok listen to Jimin and Taehyung when setting his eyes and heart for Y/N feels like the most right decision he has ever made in his life? Especially when Y/N’s nowhere the high-hat snobbiety concept Jimin put her in. Hoseok is sure about this because he started to see and know her more than anyone else could after the fateful night of the Science Majors’ last year’s Christmas party.

             “Is that Y/N?” Hoseok squints his eyes. The person walking towards him is clad in a black coat and indigo satin slip-dress that falls short on her mid-thigh. Her hair is a mess and her small glittery satchel is slipping off her shoulders even if she adjusted it again and again. Not to say she’s also limping on her two-inch silver heels. When the girl raises her head and sees him, her face falls into an annoyed scowl. Hoseok right then confirms it is aberrantly, and shockingly, Y/N. At the sight of recognition in his face, Y/N immediately runs away in the opposite direction. Hoseok finds himself already chasing after her before his mind could acknowledge that he is actually running after the campus’ excruciating goody-two-shoes in the ass'o clock of the night.

             Hoseok easily catches up to Y/N. He blocks her way, causing her to halt. Hoseok hunches as he breathlessly puffs, “Hey Y/N, why you so fast?”

             “No-none of your business Jung Hoseok,” Y/N turns away from him and crosses her arms. Hoseok almost smiles. It is amusing how she effortlessly pulls her usual “intimidator stance” even in such a weird scenario.

             “Well, it is my business if you’re wandering on campus grounds in the night and obviously not sober.”

             Y/N whips her head towards him, “I am sober. What are you even here for?”

             “According to my eyes, you’re clearly drunk. Look,” Hoseok points to her face, “you look red all over and you can’t even look at me straight.” 

            Y/N slaps his hand away. 

            Hoseok puts his hands back in his pockets, “You’re clearly doing some beautiful eyes challenge right now.” 

            Y/N cringes at him but Hoseok continues, “And for your second question, I’m patrolling for the Campus Drunk Patrol.” He smiles and points to the logo on his jacket.

             Y/N leans forward and squints at the logo. Seeing her raised brow, Hoseok explains, “We aim to help drunk students sober up before commuting home. We can also escort them to their dorm facades and notify their RAs to come and get them.”

             Y/N still has her brow raised, skeptical. Hoseok sighs, “Well, it’s a dead org so I understand why you don’t believe me. If I also learn some org that’s been inactive for five years has suddenly gone active, I will be skeptical, too. But trust me on this, okay? I’ll just walk you around until you’re sober enough to know how to go home. I heard you’re dorming here. I can help you get to your dorm if you want.”

             Y/N still looks unconvinced and Hoseok releases a sigh again. He juts his thumb and points to his back, “We have our Patrol Marshal stationed there by the campus gates. He can totes see us here and tell you’re one of the stubborn drunk students who refuse to cooperate with our protocol.” 

            Hoseok smugly puts his weight on his left foot.“You can refuse and go ahead. But because the marshal doesn’t let drunk people he already caught go home, he will notify the head RA and trust me when I tell you I’ve seen a lot of students end up in bigger trouble for not complying with our joint protocol with the RA Council. Or,” Hoseok smiles, “you could just make our lives easier by letting me help you sober up.”

             Y/N looks away, gnawing on her lip. When Hoseok hears a faint “fine” come from her, he has to keep his jaw from hanging open.

             Because, why wouldn’t he be flabbergasted?

             Y/N L/N, the fearsome Analytical Physics major, is not the sweetest star out there. With a resting bitch face, innateness to give cold replies, gift of the perpetual judging stare, and insensitivity to joke cues, Y/N is one of the hardest people to cooperate with. It is not entirely because she does not put in any effort. No one just found it easy, or tolerable even, to interact with her. Sure, Y/N’s smart, a genius in Hoseok’s eyes. However, what stuck to everyone’s memory is how she unconsciously belittles everyone around her. Y/N gives out unnecessary run-throughs of chemistry concepts about any movie or animation brought up in a conversation. She instantly goes grammar-nazzi on anyone who slips on the rules of English grammar, especially when people make errors concerning the Oxford comma in their papers. She even goes out of her way to explain to her fellow students the physics of how and why they drove or parked badly with their bike or scooter.

             But the pinnacle of Y/N’s negative reputation has to be her merciless removal of her senior’s name, Oh Sehun, from the case study required in Communication Media Theories. In her very first year in university, at that. Although her action is justified as Sehun did not contribute anything at all in the group project, this name removal caused outrage among every college student. Sehun, who is actually the college’s renowned quarterback, graduated late and was now behind of his original team who already got into the professionals. All because of Y/N. Hence, the people in the university have started to associate her name with the title “stuck-up-iest bitch to ever walk on Earth.” Some don’t even seem to remember her name. All everyone knew is that Y/N’s one hell of a condescending bitch.

             So having Y/N walk silently by his side, cooperating for the first time without reciting her rights based on the constitution with such accuracy in verbatim while passively and implicitly insulting him, Hoseok cannot help to be so shocked.

             Noticing the complete silence that has surrounded them two, Hoseok breaks from his trance and leads Y/N to the college’s cafe. It’s already closed, given the lateness of the night, but it has their outdoor metal chairs set-up outside. He lets Y/N plop down on one of the metal seats as he produces a coffee-in-can for her.

             “Do you just casually carry around canned coffees with you?”

             “No, just when I am on duty for the patrols. Caffeine is the best way to help people sober up fast.” Hoseok inserts an edible straw for her and she grabs the drink.

             “I don’t think so,” Y/N mutters, “Human body processes consumed alcohol on its own, thus, it’s processing speed is neither affected nor aided by any exterior substances. With this, there’s no such actual thing as 'sobering up fast.’ It just feels like that because caffeine is a stimulant and hence, counters the sedative effect of alcohol, making you feel alert and appear to be sober.” Y/N takes another sip, “Nevertheless, thanks for the free coffee.”

              Hoseok almost gapes. The people were not kidding about how Y/N casually spouts science shit wherever she goes. Although he’s supposed to get tipped off, Hoseok just finds this set-up oddly amusing. He leans forward in his seat and props up his arm on the table to cup his face. “Anyway, why are you out in the late of the night?”

                 Y/N gives him an unamused look, “Because I was obviously partying. Is there any other party in the campus right now than the Science Majors’ Christmas party?”

              “You’re right,” Hoseok chuckles, “but what I mean is, why are you already outside? The party doesn’t end 'til 2 A.M.”

              “I just decided I want to go home.”

              “Why?”

              Y/N drops her drink on the table, “Are you just gonna ask me 'why’ everytime?!”

              Hoseok tilts his head and smiles, “Talking with drunk people is part of our protocol in sobering up. So, yeah, I’m gonna ask why every time until the redness on your nose and cheeks subsides a little.”

              “Fine,” Y/N hisses. She gives Hoseok a steely glare, “This night is the first time I’ve done something so stupid such as going to a party in an attempt to expand my connections. It turns out everyone still irrationally hates me about Oh Sehun’s name removal and they refused to interact with me. They kept sending me glares  while I just pathetically stood in the corner of the room for the duration of the party, dumbly holding a cup of some alcoholic drink I just realized 30 minutes ago was what you call ‘spiked.’ These pretty heels I wore hurt my ankles and toes all for nothing.” Y/N covers her face with her palms, “God, I don’t even know why I’m opening up about these things with you when it’s just the first time I talked with you. Maybe it’s just because I’m just drunk, god, it’s so stupid–”

              “It’s not stupid,” Hoseok interjects and Y/N raises her head from her hands. Hoseok smiles, “When there’s too much alcohol in our system, we get to do stuff we never knew we can. And sometimes, they are things we really desire to do but dare not let out in the open, afraid of what others may think. And it may come off as stupid as you’re letting your heart do the talking instead of your brain. But you know what? You have to be stupid sometimes to acknowledge what your brain may be missing out on. Plus,” Hoseok stretches open his arms wide, “there’s just the two of us here so no one can really judge you because hey, I’m just all ears here. After all, I’m just an officer of the Campus Drunk Patrol helping you sober up.” At the sight of Y/N’s pursed lips and eyes set on the coffee beside her, looking as if she’s convinced (and it looks like it’s not like her to admit it), Hoseok smiles wider and leans forward. “Now, back to your story. Why did you decide to go to a party?”

              “Because,” Y/N sighs, “I don’t know, @keanu_reeves_is_the_real_daddy from Hoboken said in Reddit that going to parties is a great opportunity to make friends.” Y/N looks down at her hands and interlocks them, “I’m just–I’m just desperate to get some friends. I’m already in second year, and still, no one wants to be with me. I often talk about how I don’t care whether people like me or not. Most of the time, I really do not care at all. But sometimes...it also gets lonely when you feel everyone seems to hate you.”

              “Well, I’m not everyone.”

              Y/N looks up at him, frowning, “That’s a great joke, Hoseok. I saw you hanging with Jimin just yesterday and I heard my name as the subject and "stick-in-the-ass bitch” as the predicate in a couple of sentences.“

              "Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but it was just Jimin who talked bad about you. Did you hear me say your name and 'stick-in-the-ass’ in one sentence?”

              Y/N glares at him. She then rips her gaze away from him to set them back on her interlocked fingers. “What are you trying to imply, Hoseok?”

               "I’m trying to imply, if you want to have a friend, I’m willing to be one.”

               "But you already got lots of friends.”

               Hoseok smiles, “That doesn’t mean I have no room left for one more.”

              Y/N gives him that skeptic look again and Hoseok snorts. “Hey, I’m being serious here. I really want to be your friend if you’d like. And no, it’s not because I pity you.” 

              Y/N raises a brow at him in disbelief and Hoseok purses his lips. He raises his hands in surrender, “Ooohkay, maybe like 0.001 percent I do, but 99.999 percent I just don’t like how everyone hates you for something that is not actually your fault. I really want to get to know you if you’d let me.”

                 Y/N just stares at him and Hoseok, for the first time in his life save for the days he’s answering written exams, has literally no idea what to do. Is Y/N angry at him for blurting out those things? Or is she aggravated he seemed plastic? But Hoseok knows he meant every single thing he said because first and foremost, he cannot lie even if he wanted to. He’s a goddamn horrible liar that anyone will know he’s lying before he can even start to lie. Second, he always says the first thing that comes to his mind because, in the majority of his life, he is incapable of thinking first before doing something. And third, Hoseok really meant what he said. He’s always been curious about Y/N. Jimin and Taehyung always talk ill about her and from the numerous negative shits he hears from them, he can’t help but think that maybe, her reputation is just one big hell of a rumor. It’s just impossible that so many rumors and negative comments about someone who he rarely sees outside the university, to be true. 

              Hoseok knows because he also has his fair share of rumors he has struggled to disprove. Like how he “cheated” in dance contests because no one can’t believe someone is just so exceptionally talented that they can win every single competition they join. Or how he “slept around” with almost half of the female population in the university just because he has lots of female friends and he loves to joke around with eggplant and saliva emojis in his texts. It’s hard to be contained in such one definitive title, much more a heavily negative one. Hoseok knew what it felt and it feels it’s just wrong to stay as a standbyer while the entire university jeers on Y/N for such a trivial reason.

              “Do-do you really mean that?”

              Hoseok looks at Y/N and nods. “Yes, I do.”

              Something wet drops on his jacket and Hoseok looks up at the sky. The sky is pitch black, save for the white inklets dotting the atmosphere, lightening up the dark horizon along with the glow of sparkling snowflakes. He turns to Y/N and smiles, “Oh look, it’s the first snow.”

              Y/N returns his smile this time. She tells him she wants to stay for ten more minutes to appreciate the snow before going home. Hoseok grins at her and says he’s got enough time to spare before his duty ends.

              The next day, Y/N’s frowning at Hoseok as the latter awkwardly holds his lunch tray next to her table.

              “Uhhh, aren’t you standing by the wrong table? Your friends sit over there.”

              “No,” Hoseok quips. “Jimin and Taehyung are not seated anywhere here because their lunches are scheduled way later today. And, this, in my opinion,” Hoseok scoots to Y/N’s side and sits down beside her, “is the perfect table.” Hoseok digs in his lunch and grins at her, “You should probably start eating now, too, y'know? Your food’s gonna get cold.”

              “I–” Y/N bites her lip and look away before she refocuses a glare at his face, “Are you really taking seriously your joke last night?”

              “It’s not a joke,” Hoseok retorts, dropping his utensils. “I’m serious about everything I said." 

              "But I didn’t mean mine. I’m drunk, remember?”

              “If you really didn’t mean them,” Hoseok looks at her, “then you can just tell me to leave. I’ll do whatever you say.”

              Y/N stares at him, brows scrunched together as if conflicted. She looks down on her hands on her lap and sighs, “I…don’t really want you to…leave. I’m sorry, I just…thought you’re just playing with me. You know all of this is still new to me. I’m sorry.”

              “Hey, it’s fine,” Hoseok chuckles, “no need to be so serious. We can take things slowly as long as you’d like.” Y/N pulls up a small smile and Hoseok grins. “Let’s finish our lunches and then we can look at memes. Memes are essential building blocks in friendships.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah. Taehyung and I became friends after we accidentally sent each other hilarious anti-government blinking man memes.”

              It is needless to say the entire university goes berserk later when they find Y/N, the campus bitch, and Hoseok, the university’s sunshine boy, guffawing over chemistry memes during lunch. Hoseok does not understand a thing, but he enjoys laughing with Y/N as she passionately explains to him each concept and why they are funny.

              It is true that Y/N wasn’t the dearest person in the world. Hoseok learned this after weeks of dealing with her unintentional snarkiness and unnecessary science lessons that may seem insulting and offensive to others. But through the time he got to befriend her, Hoseok learns Y/N is just too smart for her own good. Y/N always goes around like an encyclopedia because she doesn’t know what else to say when she wants to find common grounds with other people. It is just unfortunate that Y/N cannot speak of anything that does not involve quantum mechanics and chemical structures.  Meanwhile, her unintended snarkiness is always directed to people’s redundancy and anomalies in their speech. Hoseok found out about this as soon as February rolled in, that it has to do with the restrictive childhood Y/N had. This, he discovered when Professor Minyoung Park called for him after his Science 11 GE class.

              “Hoseok, I see you getting close with Y/N, these days.”

              “Yes ma'am,” Hoseok replies. He sits on the chair in front of her desk.

              “Oh, then you must have been familiar with how she can get,” Ms. Park leans forward, “not so…friendly around people. I know she and her mind of hers can be a little too much for others.”

              Hoseok’s forehead furrows. How did Professor Park know? Although Y/N’s bad reputation has easily spread like wildfire among college students, not many professors or any of the university staff have shown any interest in her life other than her impressive academic standing. Hoseok asks, “How did you know, Ms. Park?”

              The 40-year old professor leans back and smiles. “Would you believe I used to tutor Y/N L/N back in middle school?”

              “No way,” Hoseok’s jaw drops open.

              Ms. Park chuckles, “Yes, it’s true. I know, what a coincidence right?  I remember how that pretty girl used to be so insecure about her braces.”

              “Yeah, she must be so…adorable back then,” Hoseok looks away bashful. He’s not used associating Y/N with such adjectives. Saying them aloud feels too weird on his tongue.

              Ms. Park’s voice makes him turn back to her. “Until now she is. It’s just a shame how she did not outgrow her…usual speech style. But in her defense, it’s not entirely her fault.”

              Hoseok’s eyes widen. His curiosity is instantly piqued. “What do you mean, Ms. Park?”

              “Well, Y/N L/N is brought up in a home…quite not friendly for children growing up. The L/Ns is a prestigious family. Not for their wealth, but for their remarkable lineage of geniuses. Y/N’s great grandparents are renowned mathematician whizzes. Her grandparents own Fields medals for their remarkable contributions in mathematics. Moreover, Y/N’s parents are well-respected chemists in almost every pharmaceutical congregation. Even their relatives are families of renowned doctors and engineers. From over ten years of tutoring her, I noticed how expectations pile up upon the short shoulders of young Y/N. Every single school day, Y/N has to attend cram schools and private tutoring after her classes to ensure she stays on top of the overall batch standing. She also has to be exposed to upper-class parties at such a young age which I think does not help anyone at all. Especially a child. All the people ever do there is brag about their achievements, scour for new families to ally with or manipulate, and eye each other’s mistakes so they can prove publicly how better they are than everyone else.” Ms. Park looks at Hoseok in the eyes, “Believe me, I used to dream about attending such parties until I finally learned how they go when I’ve been invited by the L/Ns. And with Y/N being a single child, all eyes were on her. So any room for mistakes is non-existent. Her parents assured her to grow like the perfect daughter they wanted her to be by making sure her movements are always constantly monitored and kept in check. You think Y/N studied here because this is just a prestigious school? No. The L/Ns wanted to send her abroad. To Harvard. Y/N refused and convinced them instead she’ll study here because I work here. And her parents trust me that I can be their eyes to see Y/N’s progress.”

              Hoseok nods but he cannot help but let his mouth hang open at everything he’s discovering right now. No one really knew anything about Y/N. And suddenly out of nowhere, on some random Thursday afternoon, he is introduced into a pandora box of history where everything about her suddenly seems to make sense.

              Ms. Park must have noticed his troubled face so she reaches out and holds Hoseok’s hand. “Hoseok, I’m not telling you these to pressure you. In fact, I am happy Y/N finally found someone who can listen to her and understand her, instead of watching her like a glass-cased perfect doll. I’m just telling you all these not to excuse the mistakes she has done but for you to understand where she’s coming from, especially when interacting with her can be difficult sometimes. So I hope you won’t give up on her, Hoseok. I know you’re a good kid. I just want Y/N to finally enjoy herself like every other college student out there.”

              And Hoseok, with his ever characteristic stubbornness did not give up on you.

“What do you mean I cannot state the faulty quantum mechanics in Antman to Taehyung?!” Y/N scowls at Hoseok, fingers frozen on the book she has mid-taken away from the shelf.

“Because you will break Taehyung’s heart,” Hoseok purses his lips and steps nearer to her, almost cornering her to the back of the bookshelf. “And can you lower your voice? We’re in a library.”

“For the same reason you should also back up a bit as I do not fancy you borderline sexually harrassing me.”

“Sexual harassment?!” Hoseok whisper-yells, “I’m stepping closer to you because I feel the need to whisper louder for you to get my point that you should not explain whatever Antman’s faulty quantum shit to Taehyung because that will make him angry. And sad!”

“Why will he be angry?” Y/N sticks her nose up and crosses her arms. “Shouldn’t he feel grateful I am adding heuristic value to his existing knowledge?”

Hoseok drags a hand down his face, “Well, I didn’t say you cannot explain some facts to Taehyung. I’m just saying you don’t tell him those things in a matter-of-factly way you always do because he’ll think you’re insulting him for watching such movies.”

“How should I say them then?” Y/N quips back.

Y/N learns the answer to her question before she knew she already did it. She realizes it when she gets out of her film class and Hoseok, who has been waiting for her last period to finish, asks her how did it go.

“Well, I told him 'The film Antman is quite weird.’”

“And what did he say?”

“Taehyung grinned at me and high-fived me.”

“Well then, it was successful. Much better than how you initially decided to do it,” Hoseok grins.

“But still…I called Ant Man weird, I’m still perplexed why Taehyung is pleased.”

“Calling something weird is a common expression to us,” Hoseok starts and Y/N tilts her head. Hoseok explains further, “’Weird’ can mean as a good endearing weird or an insulting ‘weird.’ If you added statistics of probability and some laws with calling something ‘weird,’ it will sound like 'Hypothesis one is proven: the movie is confirmed to be bullshit because of unquestionable proof.’ And that will appear insulting because you are not giving room for others’ opinions to be valid. It will make you look you’re belittling them if you said it that way. But today, you did not. See?” Hoseok smiles, “you do not have to state 100 percent what you really meant. Just a bit of truth you find essential for others to know is already enough for a small talk.”

Y/N nods, her lips morphed into an amused “oh.”

Hoseok grins as he puts his hands on his waist, “Trust me on this. I became Mr. Congeniality last year for a reason.”

“What does it have to do with making small talk?”

“It means, I am the expert in making small talk.”

***

“C'mon, Y/N, let’s go to the spring festival. Please, please, please, pleaseeee.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N pulls her hand from his grip, “I have to study for our finals.”

“But, Y/N, it’s too early for that. The finals is yet to come 'til next month! Look at me, I do not feel any pressure to study yet.”

“But that’s because you do not have any academic standing to maintain.”

Hoseok’s face falls and Y/N immediately rectifies her mistake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, Hoseok. Of course, I know you also value your class standing, given your program and all. I’m sorry I’m being insensitive again.”

Hoseok breaks into a laugh. “Oh my god, I’m just fucking around with you! You’re partially right though, I don’t have an academic standing to maintain but a performative one. Although I still have to keep my grades up so I can continue studying here. Anyway,” Hoseok grins at Y/N, offering his hand out, “I only accept apologies in the form of accompanying me to the spring festival.”

“Fine, Hoseok,” Y/N  begrudgingly accepts his hand. But Hoseok cannot miss the small smile forming on her lips.

“Don’t fret tho,” He boops her nose and she cringes at him, “we can  insert some Q&A sessions later so you can do a bit of studying if you’d still like.”

“How will we do that?”

Y/N learns the answer to that when she finds themselves screaming from the opposite ends of the giant boat ride.

“HOSEOK, DAMN YOU!”

The boat tips and her stomach drops but all she can hear is Hoseok screaming.

“WRONG, Y/N. The answer to the drilling ship which can dig 'til the mantle of the earth IS CHIKYU! NOW, off to the next question. What are CYANOBACTERIA?!!!”

              But Hoseok does more than just sticking by Y/N’s side and not giving up on her. He falls in love with her.

              Through the months he has become Y/N’s friend, Hoseok cannot help but be endeared by her. The things about her he never thought will come as close to what he calls cute suddenly grows on him. It grows too much that he lives off every single one of them. Even if it usually ends with him getting roasted. He used to get frustrated by Y/N’s never-ending witty comebacks. Now, his heart started singing during their bicker-banters that Hoseok even started to look forward to their bickering. Y/N’s smile that Hoseok used to think was a standard horror level of creepy is now all he could dream about when he’s asleep, and even when he’s awake. The way Y/N laughs at him, or smiles when she sees him were heart-warming. Until they upped 100 million levels and now they have become cataclysmic for his heart. The way Y/N patiently teaches him his lessons, or how her science-y jokes and memes become funny was something Hoseok used to overlook as trivial. Now, he couldn’t wait for the days he’ll bring his notebooks to the library and stare at Y/N’s face while she teaches him quantum mechanics and chemical structures. 

              Y/N’s small “tokens of appreciation,” as what she called it, like her handmade ‘thank you’ cards she gives Hoseok every month, or her invitations for Hoseok to accompany her to some street event or nearby dance event, or as uneventful as a new food stall that has opened in the university were something Hoseok never put much thought on. Now, they’re Hoseok’s source of both happiness and headaches as they make his heart fly and his brain ache for thinking too much into her actions. The way Y/N looks at him like never someone else has before—so attentive and focused in everything he says as if everything that comes from his mouth has so much worth listening to. Even if it’s a disgusting tale of how he almost shitted his pants before their science exam because he didn’t listen to Jimin when he told him to stop binge-eating spicy wings as a coping mechanism to stress, Y/N listens. This used to be something Hoseok treats as his special privilege as her friend. But now, it has become a national treasure he does not want to share with others. Especially with Namjoon, his roommate, whom Y/N managed to befriend because the former is a Biology major who’s on the same level as Y/N’s intellectual prowess. God, Hoseok cannot even count on his hands the number of times he’s been conflicted if it was jealousy on Namjoon’s effortless way to make Y/N laugh, or petty anger because he cannot even understand their jokes. 

              Hoseok doesn’t know how or why he suddenly felt all of these things for Y/N. It just happened. And so is how he accidentally blurted it out to her during one of their conversations, despite Jimin and Taehyung’s adamant warnings not to ask her out.

              "And whenever I use the microscope in my room, I’m always scared turning the coarse knob so much. It will be horrifying to see the objective lens break the slide and the coverslip.”

              “Y/N, I like you.”

              YN’s jaw goes slack and she stares at him, eyes wide. Hoseok almost feels perspiration dot his entire hairline for what feels like ten whole minutes in purgatory. Will Y/N leave? Will she scream at him, laugh at him even for his audacity? Will she reject him? Of course she will, what is he thinking? Taehyung and Jimin are right. Y/N is smart and he is too dumb for her to even fulfill at least an ounce of her standards. Y/N is respectable and he is a shameless clown–

              “I…am allowing you to be sexually attracted to me, Hoseok.”

              “W-what?”

              “I said,” Y/N looks straight into his eyes, “I am giving you permission to like me, Hoseok.”

              Hoseok balks. “P-permission? W-why do I need permission?”

              “Because, if you’re going to like me, I need you to know I am acknowledging your sexual attraction to me seriously,” Y/N stands up, putting her hands in the pockets of your coat. “It will be a waste if you do not want a long-term commitment. I do not have time to dwell on anything less than that.”

              Lucky for Y/N, so does Hoseok and he wastes no time proving it to her. For the course of six months, Hoseok courts her in the most possible best Hoseok-way. Y/N lived the majority of her life within suffocating walls surrounded by academics, titles, honors, and people waiting for her to fall. Hoseok wanted to take her with him on a break (and a possible future lifestyle) away from them all. So he takes Y/N to carnivals, dance events, and festivals–ranging from streets decorated in cheap glowing lanterns to grander events that have remarkable fireworks displays.

              Hoseok shows Y/N himself at his most vulnerable and strongest. He lets her watch him perform alone in practice rooms as he expresses the things muddled in his head, things he never dares to say to anyone else. Y/N’s been with him when he broke down due to his anxiety concerning his not-so-impressive acads. She was also with him in his embarrassing drunk adventures. Hell, Y/N even participated in his crew’s weird end-of-the-sem party. She let Hoseok dress them two like the two robbers from Home Alone–complete with the rageddy cut gloves and dirty face makeup. But, Y/N has also seen Hoseok’s crew’s successful university tours, the exclusive events he got invited to, and his dance recitals that got many theater and entertainment scouts crowding the room he’s dancing in.

              Hoseok shows all of himself to Y/N. Willingly and so transparently, that in turn, she started to show him her self, too. Y/N let him see her in her utter glory. She let him see her receiving awards from various electronics competitions and exhibitions, her creating the first demo of her portable printer and scanner machine that earned many positive reviews from numerous investors, and her getting featured in not just the university’s newspaper or any other school’s newspapers, but the city’s news for a composting machine she invented. And, Y/N also let Hoseok see her at her worst. She let him see her get told off by one of the people she had unconsciously insulted in the hallways, her failing her Communication GE classes, and her having a panic attack when her parents announced yet again another party of scholars who wish to see what she’s been up to lately.

              These things made Y/N realize Hoseok was serious about her and she, in return, has started to cherish the golden boy who would never leave her alone for the day until she’s crying from sheer laughter and happiness.

              However, it is the small things Hoseok does that really really gets to her.

              Hoseok remembers the small details Y/N slips in during their conversations.

“Hey, you are not supposed to eat that,” a fork clashes with Y/N’s own, preventing her from reaching the delectable dish.

“This pasta?” Y/N looks up at Hoseok.

“It has chopped shrimps. I asked Seokjin about it and he said it has prawns.” Hoseok grabs Y/N’s hand and leads her to the other side of the buffet. There, he gets her pasta with white sauce, this time, garnished in bacon. “Here, eat this, instead. It may not taste like the one with the shrimp but at least you won’t get allergies and you can enjoy the rest of the night instead of chilling out at the hospital watching sad re-runs of The Big Bang Theory.”

***

“Hoseok, you won’t believe how fascinating my yield turned out to be, like–Hoseok, what are you doing?

Hoseok pauses in his fumbling and blinks at Y/N. He looks down back at his bag and sighs. “I was hoping to keep this a surprise but oh well.”

He pulls up something from his bag and Y/N’s left gaping when he hands her a box of baked cookies. He rubs his neck, the tip of his ears reddening under her  gaze. “I remember you telling me it’s been a while since you ate cookies. My mom baked a lot for us so here, have some. I know you’re on some ridiculous diet your parents told you to take. But I hope you could give yourself a cheat day and just eat and enjoy the day. Your parents aren’t here.”

              Hoseok never fails to check up on her.

“Hey, how long have you been hunched over your desk now?” Hoseok’s voice blares from Y/N’s phone’s speakers and she sighs.

“About five hours now, I think?”

“Okay. Why don’t you take a break for ten minutes before going back to the grind? You told me your back is being an ass to you for two weeks now. Give it some rest. Also, drink some water.”

“Okay mom, will do,” Y/N chuckles over the line.

“Okay my daughter,” Hoseok sing-songs and she snorts. “I’ll call later and check up on you. Don’t dare to not take a break. I know where your dorm is and I’ll break into your window if I have to.”

“Okay, okay, will do, my personal health support system.”

“Glad to be of your service, ma'am.”

***

Y/N sighs as she throws her bag onto her bed. Today is a beat day. Mr. David was sour and he poured all his frustration on their class by giving out unnecessary lectures instead of teaching the new lesson. Y/N guesses she’ll have to self-study again for a quiz the prof has irrationally scheduled for tomorrow. And oh, Ms. Peterson also gave out a heavy paper late. It will force Y/N to cram for it in two days as submission date is just the day after tomorrow. Why is every deadline piling up today? It’s not yet even finals week yet!

Y/N plops onto her desk with a heavy sigh. She’ll end up having to do an all-nighter again — wait, what’s that doing there? There’s a pack of sandwiches in a clear food container sitting on top of her desk, beside her notebooks. Y/N doesn’t remember buying one or requesting her rommate, Jae In, to buy her one. Curious, she picked it up and turned it around. That’s when Y/N sees a yellow post-it attached on the plastic container.

“Hey Y/N. I thought of you today and decided to make you a sandwich. This is edible, I assure you. I asked my cooking mama friend Seokjin to come over and help me. Eat this snack before you do your work. I know you always start work right after coming home from your classes. I hope you eat on time and not skip on meals.

With super duper mega love,

Hoseok 😘”

              And Hoseok helps Y/N to the best he can, whenever he can, especially about things she’s passionate about but no one takes time to really understand.

"Hey Y/N,” Hoseok greets as he plops down next to her seat in the library.

“Hoseok?” Y/N glances up at him, eyes wide, “What are you doing here? You told me you have practice today.”

“Eh, the members cancelled on me today.  And also, I’ve missed you, so I figured why not visit you.” Hoseok grins at her and she momentarily forgets how to breathe. Y/N doesn’t know when Hoseok started to have that effect on her, it just happened. And although it is starting to be an inconvenience regarding how she becomes a nervous wreck under his gaze, she weirdly cannot find herself complaining against it. 

Hoseok leans forward, breaking her trance. “Now, what should we study today?”

“Uh-uhm, cellular mechanisms. I wanted to learn more about cancer cells.”

“Cellular mechanisms it is, then. Want me to help you make diagrams?”

Y/N nods and Hoseok grins, “I see the skills of artist Hoseok is not about to die anytime soon, eh?”

***

“How does that work, Y/N?”

“Well, it converts the mechanical energy from every step you take into electrical energy. It’s not yet finished so I’m still figuring out how many more parts I need for this to work. My previous demos have a lot of mistakes.” Right at the same time, a bolt pops off. Y/N runs a hand over her face, “And a lot of malfunctioning parts.”

Hoseok scratches his head. “I don’t know about any energy conversions but I know how to screw well?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A-a statement. I can fix what we have for now while you revise your design. Whaddya think?”

“That sounds good.” Y/N turns around and heads for her blue prints. But before she can pick up her measuring materials, she turns back to Hoseok, meeting his gaze as he’s mid-picking up a screw driver.

“Thank you, Hoseok for assisting me on this. I know it’s just a personal project and I may be taking too much of your time when you should probably be resting at your dorm.”

“Pssh, you’re not taking too much of my time. I am enjoying my time with you. Also, it’s not just a personal project. It is a personal project so of course, it deserves to have gigantic importance to you. And it will turn out great because I know it will. Now go let’s get these revisions done so we can do another test run.”

              Hoseok has been a wonderful friend, an amazing supporter, and a sincere person who never feels ashamed of showing Y/N what he felt. That is all she needed for her not to doubt anymore and accept his confession.

              “Hey, Y/N,” Hoseok huffs, hands tucked deep in his red parka. “Why did you  tell me to meet up in the park? It’s cold out. Can’t it wait 'til tomorrow?”

              “No, it cannot,” Y/N faces the man, brows scrunched, her lips red from the number of times she has bitten it. “Hoseok, there’s something I need to tell you.”

              “W-what is it?”

              “I…am reciprocating yo-your profession of your sexual attraction to me.”

              “What?”

              “I said, I am reciprocating–” Y/N’ bites her lip and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she gives Hoseok the most focused stare she can ever give. “Hoseok, I am accepting your love confession. I like you, too.”

              Hoseok stares at Y/N, eyes wide, mouth agape. And for too long that Y/N thought the cold must have frozen him all over.

              “Hoseok, why are you staring like that? I am telling you, I like you too–hmppf!”

              Hoseok is kissing her, his lips pressed softly against hers in a gentle peck. Before Y/N could process things in her head about what to do when the boy she likes started kissing her, Hoseok is already coaxing her lips to dance with his. And before long, Y/N is returning him a kiss with the same ardor as his. It’s not like her to suddenly make out with someone so publicly. Hell, it’s not even like her to kiss someone with such passion that the warmth she feels on her chest comes close as to the heat of the sun. But as Y/N stays in Hoseok’s embrace in the middle of the frosted park which contrasts their warm chests, everything just feels so right.

              So right, as if fate just planned this very night for the two of them. Because, as their kiss comes into an end, Y/N and Hoseok both jolt at the drop of wetness that land on their heads. Y/N looks up and sees the familiar soft white snow falling from the dark night sky. The first snow. Right then deja vu sets in of how it was just one year ago she met this giggling boy in front of her at the very same time of the year.

              “I guess the universe wants us to be together, too.” Hoseok smiles.

              Y/N grins at him and sinks deeper into his embrace. “As preposterous that sounds given that the universe is, literally speaking, a no-higher living being, it is more preposterous that I am finding myself agreeing to and blushing because of this.”

              “I can’t understand what you said but I think it means you like it too so I’m deciding this is one of the best blush-worthy moments I ever had,” Hoseok kisses the top of Y/N’s head, “and whatever you say won’t stop me from taking back what I said.” Y/N nuzzles her nose against his chest, smiling at the way she cannot tell her heartbeat apart from his–the beats beneath their chests in sync despite the incongruity in her words.

***

              Loving Hoseok is easy. He is charming, generous, understanding, and everything Y/N ever wanted. Even more, nothing really changed from their friendship, just the addition of cheesy pick-up lines, sweet kisses here and there, hot make-out sessions which more often than not escalate into passionate (and very amazing) love-making. And Y/N loves her relationship with him as well for this. Because even if Hoseok succeeds in making her a soft mush for him, she cannot live her life without having him be the best-est friend she could ever have in her life.

              But from all the things Y/N loves about Hoseok, her most favorite has to be his utter transparency. What she sees in him, is what she gets. Hoseok is unabashed in proclaiming his feelings for her. He does not get embarrassed in showing Y/N his love for her. And, Hoseok does not keep secrets from her. He just willingly tells everything about him to her, no euphemisms, no lies. Y/N guesses this is probably the reason why their fights never last too long. Moreover, this quality of his makes up for Y/N’s inability to effectively express her thoughts and feelings. He taught Y/N pure utter honesty that so many people have stigmatized for naivety, but actually felt so amazing. He also taught Y/N to trust and let down her walls for people so they can be able to love her. Hoseok inspires and motivates Y/N to become a better version of herself, not only for the sake of others, but also for herself, and she cannot be grateful enough for that. 

              Titles didn’t matter with Hoseok, with Y/N, and their relationship. What only matters is their labels for each other–boyfriend and girlfriend, lovers loved and in love. Hoseok does not encrypt his messages in a way that would match Y/N’s mental capacity – He just talks with her like the way he is, nonsense and eggplant emojis and all. Hoseok does not burden Y/N with heavy, unreasonable expectations. He just loves her and lets her be whatever she wants. He just stays by Y/N’s side as she freely learns from and works on her mistakes like every flawed human being. With Hoseok, Y/N knew what she deserves and she started to live her life the way she has always dreamed of–so flawed but so perfectly Y/N L/N who is unafraid of what the future may bring to her.

              However, not everyone cannot fully comprehend Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok. Loving Hoseok may be easy but the environment surrounding their relationship is an entirely opposite scenario. For Hoseok’s and Y/N’s disregard of titles, does not guarantee everyone else around their relationship will do the same.

              Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok spread throughout the campus like a Jeffree Star fight-controversy with another YouTuber in 2x speed. The entire university has gone berserk yet again, unable to fathom how someone who shines so bright like Hoseok can be together with someone like Y/N who dims other’s lights. And for other people, they cannot understand how such a happy-go-lucky academically-challenged student like Hoseok can even amuse such no-shit, genius brain of Y/N.

              Almost everyone has something to say about their relationship. And, most often than not, they are negative. It didn’t help anything in their relationship as Y/N is already insecure as to why Hoseok even chose her when he can have any woman he wished. Y/N knows she’s difficult to be with. She struggles with expressing her feelings and thoughts. She even feels like she’s making things too hard for Hoseok. You see, Y/N’s a safe player. In whatever grounds she’s in — academics, social life, family ties — she  always plays safe. Y/N finds it hard to not be so, especially when all her life, she has been groomed to be a person well-liked by everybody else — a person safe from any negative impression that may tarnish her reputation. So, when things get a little bit too hard with Hoseok, Y/N finds herself automatically heading for the exit.

              Just like in one Wednesday night in August. Y/N had her fair share of fights with Hoseok. From the difficulties that tie with his popularity, her inability to show her feelings to him that sometimes makes him question her love, his procrastination and occasional lack of care for his academics, her nature to obsess over her studies that she tends to forget herself and everyone around her, to his numerous female friends who have the audacity to still flirt with him even if they all know he’s dating her — Y/N and Hoseok have fought about them all within their seven months of dating. And sure, they were already pretty bad fights given that they were immensely serious with Y/N and Hoseok ending up screaming at each other, giving each other cold shoulders, and ignoring each other for at most (usually) five days. But this Wednesday night was not like any of ther previous fights. Because this time, Y/N told Hoseok she wanted to break up with him.

              “Will you stop for a second, Y/N?!”

              Y/N swiftly turns around, tears brimming her swollen red eyes, “What do you want, Hoseok? I already said what I need to say. I am tired of constantly being the bad guy whenever we fight. I am tired of this, of you. I want to break up.”

              “No, you don’t mean that,” Hoseok almost cries. He looks equally devastated as her — swollen eyes, pale face, trembling fingers. “N-no, you don’t mean that,” he repeats, this time, his voice breaking.

              “Of course I mean them, Hoseok,” Y/N spits, “I never say things I do not mean. You know me.”

              “I know you,” Hoseok retorts, “that’s why I am telling you right now you don’t mean telling me you’re tired of our relationship, of me. That you want to b-break up. B-because you’re Y/N,” he breathes out. “You seem cold but you actually care. You do not speak your thoughts or feelings aloud but act on them. Okay, maybe you speak them out, but you say it in a way most people do not understand so that still does not count. But, Y/N,” Hoseok reaches for her hand before she can even think of shaking off his hold, “I know you love me. Deep inside the deepest of your hypothalamus, like you said, I believe you love me. Or else, you wouldn’t stay when I told you to watch me dance alone, frustrated with the world. You wouldn’t put in effort befriending Taehyung and Jimin despite knowing what they all said about you in the past. You wouldn’t have told me you wanted to come with me to my hometown and meet my family for my dad’s birthday. And,” Hoseok looks down at his feet, “you wouldn’t have stayed with me this long knowing how annoying I can be and what everyone else has to say about us. So please, Y/N. Just please…stay. Let’s talk it out together. Don’t just break up with me. Please don’t just l-leave me alone.”

              When Hoseok looks up at Y/N, it is with his brows scrunched together, eyes glazed over, and form almost kneeling in front of her. He holds her hands so tight, but yet so gentle, as if afraid if he clasped her fingers tighter, it will be too suffocating that she’ll slip away from him. He just looks at her and she cannot help but return his gaze. Y/N realizes right then, it may have been a bad decision to do so. For all she could see in his eyes is her reflection. Her and only her. It even seems as if he’s trying to keep the entirety of her as vivid as a memory can be. And maybe it’s because it’s the way he unabashedly tells her everything he loves about her. Or the way he remembers every single detail about her. Or how he knows her so well despite their relationship blooming at such a young age. But, they are all enough for Y/N to hold his hands tighter and let him engulf HER in his arms.

              “H-Hobi–”

              “S-see? You even still call me like that,” Hoseok mutters above her head and Y/N bites her lip as she clutches onto his jacket tighter.

              “Hobi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean them. I’m not tired of you. I’m not tired of u-us. I do not want to break up with you. Not at all. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Y/N lets out a sob and Hoseok hugs her tighter, running a hand over her hair, knowing it calms her down. “It’s just that everything’s been too much lately. The-the way your friends–”

              “What did they do?” Hoseok’s voice deepens close into a low growl. Y/N gulps. “Please tell me, Y/N,” Hoseok says softly as he cups her face in his warm hands. Y/N bites her lip and looks away. She does not want to be that type of girlfriend who instigates a fight between their significant other and their friends. She does not want Hoseok to have a bad blood with people he cares about. But then, Y/N remembers their fight two months ago. That night when she confronted Hoseok about the consecutive late nights he has spent in the practice room, neglecting his studies and even his own health for the past two weeks. The moment Y/N cornered him about it, Hoseok broke down and told her everything — how he lacked the motivation to perform well in his recitals and how his course adviser told him to pull his shit together before he fucks up the nearing international dance competition.

“She told me that I’m dating you right now but why can’t I even pull my shit together like you do. That she doesn’t understand why you’re even dating me when you can date far more competent guys. That sooner or later, you’re going to break up with me. Because,” Hoseok sighs and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his cheeks, a tear slipping down them instead, “look at me. I’m so sloppy. I’m such a loser—”

“No, you’re not!” Y/N interrupts him and Hoseok jolts. “You…you’re not a loser. Sloppy, yes, sometimes,” Hoseok winces and Y/N grabs his arms and pulls him toward her so she can hug him tight. “Hoseok, listen to me. I’m your lover. No one else’s but yours. I love you and I will not leave you. I do not care about other guys, if they are more competent or whatever. After all, competency is just a social construct designed to promote the societal standards that aim for conformity.” Y/N disentangles herself from him to cup his face in her hands. “Hoseok, you are not a loser. And, you’ll never be.  How can you be at least an inch of one? You were the one who led countless competitions which won our university so many awards. Almost ALL the trophies in our campus’ Hall of Honor were all thanks to you. You were the one who helped our fashion design majors  grab an opportunity with various labels after your runway a year ago became viral. You were also the one responsible for resurrecting countless dead orgs with actually good goals. They even received rewards from the local government because of the projects you arranged! You’re not a loser, Hobi. In fact, you are the opposite of loser. It’s just your prof is an ungrateful bitch, demeaning you like that when you’ve brought glory to her name as your program adviser. What a fucking asshole, I could have punched her in the face and—”

Hoseok detaches his lips from hers and smiles. “I can’t believe I’m starting to rub off of you. You just said your first curse word. Two even!”

“Damn you, Hoseok. I’m being serious.”

“And so am I. Thank you for cheering me up, Y/N. This is why I love you so much!”

              Hoseok has always been honest to Y/N and she decides it’s only right for her to do the same.

              Y/N looks up at him. “Nayeon, Sungyoon, and…Sara cornered me yesterday and I thought it will be about what you are recently up to. Why you were absent at yesterday’s practice. It turned out they did this high school toxic open-forum-like session where they told me all my shits and why I shouldn’t hang out you. They said you were no longer the Hoseok you used to be because I kept dragging you down. That I…do not deserve you and you should be with girls like you. And you know what, I thought so, too. Because, you have far better things ahead from you than tying you down here with me.”

              “No one can tell what you deserve or not, Y/N,” Hoseok retorts. “Only you can. And, I know what you are thinking right now maybe the opposite of what you really think about yourself. But if I could help, I think you totally deserve me. Even more than that, honestly. Because, Y/N, you are not tying me down anywhere.  In fact you are tying me up. Not literally but figuratively. Okay” Hoseok closes his eyes, “I know it doesn’t make sense—whatever I say doesn’t make sense on the regular basis, so what’s the difference—but, what I mean to say is, Y/N, you are keeping me afloat. You are keeping my head up from the expectations and shitstorms that is plaguing me. You are helping me stay alive and keep pushing through all the difficulties I face. And for that, I am eternally grateful for you. So,” Hoseok smiles, “do not let anything anyone else says about us get to you. Because, they don’t really know anything about me and they very much don’t know anything about you. They don’t get to judge. Not when they do not know how it feels to have the most amazing angel by your side.”

              Y/N scrunches her face at him but she hugs him tight nevertheless. “Must you always be this cheesy and cringey?”

              “Only for you, baby,” Y/N could feel Hoseok grin from the top of her head. “Also, I’m gonna have a talk with those girls so expect apologies coming your way. And if things go the other way,” Hoseok clicks his tongue, “expect a decrease in my friends.”

              However, everything Hoseok spouted is easier said than done. Because truth be told, Hoseok thinks it is him who actually doesn’t deserve Y/N. She is intelligent but so is she kind. She’s mature and it is usually her who does most of the helping and progressing in their relationship. Most of all, it is more realistic to say, Y/N is the one who has far greater things ahead than him. And it became clearer to him the night she took him with her to her family’s home for one of her parents’ parties.

              Y/N countlessly told Hoseok she didn’t need to attend it. She even highly advised him not to come with her. But Hoseok has forever been stubborn so of course when he told Y/N he wanted to meet her family, he did every bit of convincing that get him to where he is now — shaken and lost in the middle of a fucking science exhibit of a party. The night actually started out well.  He introduced himself to every member of the L/N family, even distant ones who stayed in the farthest, most unnoticeable corners of Y/N’s house. Y/N’s family members welcomed him with smiles and actively talked with him. Her parents even handed him his plate of food themselves and invited him to spend Christmas with them.

              It only started going downhill when it was time for the main event of the party—the what-have-you-been-up-to lately segment or what Y/N would like to call the “let the best bragger win.” Everyone started spewing their achievements for the year in a fashion that challenges the other party to disclose their far greater successes. Which, ultimately, insult the others for their lack of any. The party felt as if it was a battlefield with every member of Y/N’s family pitting their achievements against each other, no matter what context they are in—even if they are not of the same category to even compare. Next thing Hoseok knew, he was being dragged into the center of the conversation, with Y/N’s father asking him to tell his “revolutionary thoughts.”

              Hoseok tried his best. He really did. He had recalled every lesson he learned in his Science-related GEs and even tried to apply them in the academic journals he saw Y/N reading. That’s why he doesn’t understand why every single time he opens his mouth, Y/N’s entire family is laughing at him. Is the Dual Nucleus Association found in fingerprints that funny? Hoseok didn’t take too long to ponder on it, for the next second, a hand is pulling him to the front doors of the L/N house. It takes another second for Hoseok to register Y/N was the one who’s dragging him onto the street in angry stomps.

              “Y/N! Why did we go out?” Hoseok pulls on her arm, “We have to come back! It will be rude to your parents! I don’t want to leave a bad impression y’know–”

              “It doesn’t matter, Hoseok!” Y/N whirls around, distraught, and Hoseok only notices just now her glazed eyes. Y/N chokes out, “Leaving an impression on them doesn’t matter because we have to get out NOW.”

              “What? No, Y/N! That’s not appropriate! I–”

              “Then is it appropriate for my parents and relatives’ to blatantly insult you right in your face?”

                 Hoseok takes a step back, “What? But they were laughing at me there. I guess my jokes are–”

                 “Hoseok, they were mocking you in there. We both hell know the fingerprint DNA trivia you were telling them is not a joke.”

                “But your father said the Dual Nucleus Association I muttered was revolutionary and funny.”

                Y/N closes her eyes as she releases a staggered sigh, “Hoseok, ‘revolutionary’ in my father’s dictionary meant ‘stupid.’” Hoseok scrunches his brows and Y/N breathes out, wishing she could let out as well the aggravation and loathing for her parents she has kept inside for so long. “He was making fun of you, Hobi. DNA does not stand for Dual Nucleus Association. It’s Deoxyribonucleic Acid. My father fucking knew what this means because he took a PhD in Microbiology and he didn’t even have the heart to correct you. He even put you up in front of everybody else and humiliate you without you even noticing it.”

                “W-what?”

                Y/N sighs for the nth time as she reaches for his hands. “Hoseok, I’m sorry I left you alone. This whole time, I didn’t know you were in my father’s care. It’s just that my cousin came to me and asked desperately for help about the verbal abuse he experiences at home. The way he asked for my help, I knew he’s about to-to blow up sooner or later. So I immediately went to his aid. And I guess I got so preoccupied trying to make him calm without triggering his panic attacks that I…did not see where you stayed in the party. Worse, I didn't fucking even know you were with my parents. I know this is not enough of an excuse and I have been a shitty girlfriend tonight. So I’m sorry, Hoseok. I’m deeply so so sorry. And right now, I’m trying to make up for my mistakes by telling you we should leave. Now. I cannot let any of them insult you more,” Y/N’s voice breaks and she raises her hand to wipe a tear that has cascaded down her cheeks, “I cannot, Hoseok, for so help me God, I will march over there and declare I want to denounce myself as a L/N.”

                Hoseok doesn’t reply. He just nods at her and looks down at his feet. Y/N gulps down the anxiety building up in her larynx as she leads the two of them to the car he rented. She opts for the driver’s seat and hits the gas. Within minutes, the two of them are enveloped by the silent nightscape, a stark contrast to the cacophony of pride in her house.

                “Hoseok,” the man turns to the sound of Y/N’s voice. “W-what else did my father say to you?”

                Hoseok starts to fumble with the loose thread of his navy suit jacket. “Do you…really want to hear it?”

                “Is it that bad?”

                “Well, I-your dad questioned my ability to provide for you in the future. Because of my major and aspirations and all.”

                Y/N turns to him, aghast, “What?! Why would he even say that? What, he started to forget women’s abilities to revert back to the traditional patriarchal views?! Fuck him!”

                “I knew you would say that,” Hoseok says, chuckling softly. Y/N faces him again, this time perplexed as to why he is laughing. Hoseok reads her look and he clears his throat.

                “When you told me I was being insulted in the party, I will admit I am offended. But, before that, during an earlier talk with your father, I was not the least bit upset.” Hoseok meets your eyes. “That time, I was scared. Immensely shit-scared.”

                “I should have come to you first, not my cousin–”

                “No, let me finish first.” Hoseok purses his lips. He then looks out of the car window, at the scarce stars on the sky. “I knew we are far apart from each other. It was obvious even before we got together. Hell, I do not even get the memes you send to me when we first started out as friends. Sometimes, I even get insecure that even if you are not really bestfriends with Namjoon, he seems to get everything you tell me you found at the lab. Just by listening to our conversations, he understands them all. So effortlessly at that. I even have to plead him to tutor me and dumb-translate the science-y things you tell me, while I dry my brains out trying to understand them. But when I talked with your father, tonight, how he reiterated your status and skills and their difference from mine…I have never been this scared in my life.   Scared that what he said will come true—that you will realize how someone like me can never truly understand you ‘til the long run. That you will get tired of slowing your pace down for me…That you will eventually find someone more compatible with you–who also has a much more stable future ahead of just an aspiring dancer.” Hoseok turns toY/N and he reaches out for her left hand, her free hand. He clasps them in his hands and looks up at her, “But, I swear Y/N, I promise I will do my best. Your father may not be convinced but I want you to know. That I will do my best for you, Y/N. I will learn more for you. I will understand you more. I will improve my reputation into a much more respectable one. Hell, I can quit dance if I have to.”

              Y/N gives Hoseok a pained look. “No, Hoseok, you will not quit dance. I do not want you to quit dance. It will be too unfair for you and I know you will regret it.”

              Hoseok sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah…that sounds easier said than done.”

              “You don’t have to do those things for me,” Y/N squeezes his hand, making him look back to her. “I actually enjoy helping you learn. I love that you goof off the way you want because when you do that, I am reminded people like you still exist today — people who are not afraid of being themselves. Because of that, you inspire me to live more. I also love that you put in the time learning the things I’m saying because it means you genuinely are interested about my thoughts and you are not afraid of women being smarter than you — something most guys fail at. But that’s because most of them are misogynistic, prideful men on their high horses. And, I know you’re not like that. Most of all, I love it when you dance. Because through it you freely express every bit of your emotion. Because, you’re transparent, Hoseok. You’re an open book and I like it the best because you don’t leave me hanging, confused, troubled, and worried about what you’re feeling, especially when you know I am already bad at reading emotions. You are my stable ground, Hoseok. You make me feel safe. And despite the bad fights we’ve been through, I know you’re always doing your best. How can we stay this long if not for you being the brighter one between us when it comes to communicating, knowing that splitting because of things that can be solved will only result in one hell of a horrible mistake?” Y/N turns to Hoseok and he looks at her with his mouth agape, eyes blown wide. She smiles at this. “You have to know you’re more than enough, Hoseok. Like you said,” her smile grows wider, “no one can tell us what we deserve or not but ourselves. And with this, I know and feel that I deserve you, Hoseok. And you, me. What do you say?”

              Hoseok’s response to that was not of a verbal one but a physical one—one that involved a feverish kiss on Y/N’s lips, and her jawline that led Y/N to park the car by the empty gasoline station. Feather-light kisses, desperate hands to grab each other as close as they can be to each other, Y/N indulges in Hoseok and him in her in a passionate love that burned so bright it rivals the sun. The only words that transpire during that fateful night was “I love you’s” and for Y/N and Hoseok, they are more than enough of an anchor of him to her and her to him as waves of obstacles come in your way.

              All of these moments with Y/N have accumulated into Hoseok’s most wonderful memories in his life. And he still replays them in his head as another year of being her lover passes. Of course, problems never failed to arise as they manage their relationship. But, the ones caused by the comments of everyone in the university have lessened as Y/N and Hoseok have now graduated. Hoseok has left the university after he graduated, while Y/N stayed in the university as she applied for a Master’s degree in civil engineering. 

             Y/N still lives in her dorm for the convenience of teaching in the campus and studying after work. Meanwhile, Hoseok lived in an apartment in the city, close to the prestigious dance studio he works at. Their schedules are most often than not, amiss, and the distance between them can be sometimes frustrating. However, what remains the biggest obstacle is everyone’s opinions about the two of them. Sure, they were not as restrictive as what the two of them have experienced in the university. But it didn’t mean it hurt less when people say how they never thought someone as fun as Hoseok will choose someone so boring like Y/N, or how Hoseok’s intellect was a down-grader for her respectable reputation, saying she has a tasteless choice in choosing partners. Although these problems may get a little overwhelming, the two of them never let them get in between their relationship. 

              Hence, Y/N and Hoseok are still madly in love like the first year they have started dating. So in love that Hoseok felt it is now the time to propose to Y/N. For anymore day without her officially bounded with him, when you already own every piece of his heart, is something Hoseok cannot take any longer. He wants Y/N to be his partner for the years to come, his significant other for forever, and the only person he wakes up to and sees last in his day and nights for the rest of his entire life. Hoseok knows this and he has never been surer in his life.

              This is the reason why Hoseok is where he is today: clad in an ugly Christmas sweater and mismatched socks, with a troubled look on his face. Hoseok may have only realized he wanted to marry Y/N in late November, but he was able to make an intricate proposal plan to execute before this year can end. Today is Y/N’s free day and he has classes that have ended early. Lucky for him, Jimin is free to take her out for some last-minute gift-shopping in the afternoon so Hoseok can have ample time to decorate Y/N’s dorm with hearts and diagrams of the hypothalamus (because “No, Hoseok, we do not say I love you from the deepest corner of my heart, but from the hypothalamus. We do not feel from the heart. It just pumps us blood”).  Hoseok will have the gifts he bought for Y/N delivered that very same day to complete his decorations (and to also spoil her even more). He will cook Y/N her favorite dishes and make her hot cocoa even though he very much likes eggnog more, just because she likes the sweet chocolate beverage. He even requested his orchestra friends Yoongi, Jinyoung, Seokjin, and Sandeul, to play Jingle Bell Rock (“in cursive”) on the far side of the hallway so when Jimin drops Y/N off, she can have her favorite Christmas song as her background music when she steps inside her room and gets surprised.

              That is why when his heart and hypothalamus decorations actually looked shit, the arrival of the gifts was delayed ‘til tomorrow, and the meals he cooked looked inedible—not to say the hot choco looked like a mess too and totally un-aesthetic—Hoseok finds himself frozen in his place next to Y/N’s Christmas tree, looking as if he was constipated for ten days. Worse, his girlfriend is already standing by her door frame, kicking the door close like it was just any other day. 

              Y/N hangs her coat on the hanger and puts her shopping bags on top of her wide cabinet. She nonchalantly glances at him, “Hoseok, what are you doing there?”

              Hoseok feels sweat run down his face in waterfalls. If Y/N is surprised he was standing stupidly next to her tree, she did not show it. But right now, Hoseok’s concern is her seeing the decorations he made chucked in a large paper bag he hid behind the tree at the last minute. Of course, it is poorly hidden. He plays with the collar of his sweater “I…um, I–”

              “Nevermind. I guess this is one of our spontaneous date nights you ironically always plan. You should inform me next time, you know, so I can prepare for you as well,” Y/N smiles at him. “Come sit with me.” She walks to the sofa by the Christmas tree and pats the seat next to her. Hoseok scrambles to sit beside her and tries not to look like the dumbest fool in the world. Y/N did not get surprised, the orchestra’s music is barely heard inside as the cold wind of early winter overrides it, and he looks totally shit. How can he propose to her now, huh? All of his plans are ruined!

              “Di-did you eat already?” Hoseok asks, hands sweaty on his sweatpants. “I made you your favorite.”

              “Umm…yeah,” Y/N bites her lip, guilty. “I was already hungry before Jimin and I can finish our shopping and I really felt a great need to devour some pizza today.” She reaches for her small satchel and produces a folded paper bag. “I saved some for you. We can eat it later while we watch Netflix.”

              “O-okay,” Hoseok nervously laughs. His eyes land on the pink mug on the dining table. He looks back at Y/N, “D-do you want to drink something? I made you hot cocoa.”

              “Ooh, I’ll drink it later. I just had a sweet choco milkshake before I got here,” Y/N bites her lips again in guilt. “I’m sorry, Hoseok, I didn’t know you prepared these stuff for me. If I had known sooner I would have never even stepped out of my dorm today.”

              “It’s okay,” Hoseok pulls a smile and he tries not to look a tad bit upset about the failure of his plans, because he knows Y/N will immediately recognize that look.

              And, he wasn’t wrong. “Why, Hobi?” Y/N cups his face to make him turn to her, “did I do something wrong?

              “No,” Hoseok looks away. “It’s just, my plans…didn’t work out today.”

              “What plans?”

              Hoseok immediately feels his ass on fire. Did he just almost give himself away? He cannot just blurt out he wants to marry her! He wanted it to be special and he cannot have that happen in just her dorm with his shitty-looking outfit and almost-burned food. He wants Y/N to remember this day and he ain’t taking the risk of letting any bad memories mess up his proposal. And so, Hoseok sighs and decides he has to abort the plan and schedule it some other day. He’s just gonna make an excuse for now. “Well, I just thought we can make this random Thursday special y’know? Keep up with the aim of my spontaneous dates–good surprises making life much better without needing a reason to be. So I just made some food and stuff for the fun of it. It’s just a normal day surprise.”

              “Oh, then I’m glad today is really spontaneous dates today. I may have…foiled your plans, but look, I happened to have a surprise for you!”

              Hoseok tilts his head, “What is it?”

              Y/N grins at him before turning around and fumbles for something in her bag. Then the next second, Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe is suddenly blaring loud from her phone.

              “Y/N, did you seriously just play Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe in speaker mode?”

              “Oh, don’t be an in-denial bitch. I know this is your favorite Christmas song. A good song has to create the aesthetic and mood for tonight,” Y/N chuckles, “Here, Hoseok, my present for you.” She hands him a box wrapped in a fancy green sparkling wrapper with a red bow tied around it. It was medium-sized, enough for one of his favorite KAWS models to fit inside.

              “Present?” Hoseok asks, feeling both joy and guilt respectively swell in his heart and pit in his stomach. Joy, because Y/N is to add another model to his growing collection. And guilt, because he didn’t bring her anything worth the same as her gift. But as he tears open the box, another fancy green box just stares back at him. He looks up at Y/N with squinted eyes. “I see what you did there, sneaky missy.”  She just chuckles at him and Hoseok continues to unbox her gift, only to have another box inside. Hoseok wonders what made Y/N think of doing this infamous wrapping technique for her gift when she wasn’t even that much into wrapping gifts. She always just give him gifts in standard wrapping paper, messily taped all over around. Moreover, what even is her gift and how small does it have to be? Because now, Hoseok’s hands are getting tired of unboxing box after box and the gift is now currently the size of a stress ball!

              “Y/N, can you just tell me your gift? I’m getting tired. I can open it tomorrow instead and we can just get straight to Netflix tonight.”

              “No, Hoseok,” Y/N laughs, patting his shoulders. “Keep unboxing.”

              Hoseok continues forth with the unboxing and his heart starts to sink to his stomach as the box got smaller and smaller. This is probably a prank. One to get back at him for telling Y/N last year he bought her her favorite gift for their monito event with Jimin, Taehyung, and Namjoon. Only for him to arrive with nothing but a bow on his head and shamelessly declare to everyone that he is her gift. Nothing must be inside this box to contain a gift so small. The box in his hand is now just the size of a small toy car!

              Hoseok sighs as he opens the box. Another green box will appear and then he’ll see the paper saying “Pranked you, Hobi!”

              But it does not.

              For the box on Hoseok’s hand right now, is gaping open to him right now. And all he sees is a sparkling, silver ring embellished with emeralds that seem to form waves around the base of the band. A fucking ring is sitting right on top of his hand.

              Hoseok gapes and just stares. Far too long that Y/N decides to break the silence. “Surprise! I bought you an engagement ring! With green emeralds just like your favorite color.” She grins at him as she holds Hoseok’s hands in hers, making him turn to her while he stays jaw ajar. 

              Y/N suddenly feels self-conscious and unconfident. This is not the reaction she is expecting. She starts to fear if she’ll spend the coming Holidays boyfriend-less. Just by looking at Hoseok’s stupified face, it looks everything is happening too fast and too sudden tonight for her boyfriend. Nevertheless, she says, “I-I know this may come off as a really big of a surprise. After all, this is an engagement ring and right now I am trying to propose to you. Barely, even. So, of course, this is definitely a shocker. Especially when we only just spent two years dating. Still too early for a proposal to come, as what others will usually expect,” Y/N’s voice breaks. 

              She wrings her hands together, her feet trembling beneath her, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. “But, Hoseok, in these two years I have spent with you…I learned what it felt like to be loved and be in love with you. We fight, yes. Healthily usual even. But, at the end of the day, everything still feels worth it. And I guess,” Y/N  smiles, “I cannot get enough of it. I cannot get enough of you. Being your girlfriend no longer satisfied me. I now want to be your wife. I want to be the only person you’ll stress over science just to impress. I want to be the person who’ll be your home. The one you will come home to, wake up to, and sleep next to every night, every single day. I want to be your partner-in-crime, especially when we have kids and we’ll play some game I never heard of but will still enjoy in the end just because you like it. But only if you want kids, hehe.” Y/N laughs awkwardly and scratches her nape. “Hoseok, I know I am clumsy in saying my feelings for you. Today is my first time saying everything so honest and raw like this so I know this may shock you. God, you don’t know how many times I practiced this speech in my office. Other professors must already be thinking I’m going crazy—anyway, what I only want to say is,” Y/N reaches for Hoseok’s hand and kisses it. “Hoseok, I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life.” When she looks up at him, she says, “And it will only happen if you’d also love to be by my side forever as well. So what do you say?”

              “W-what, I will say?” Hoseok repeats, still shaken. However, he’s so happy he cannot help the wide grin splitting on his face. “Yes, Y/N, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Forever and ever and ever and ever.”

              “R-really?” Y/N’s releases a relieved sigh, fingers wiping the tears that have formed on her eyes. “T-Then, why did you look like as if you’re about to walk out on me when you opened the box?”

              Hoseok cups her face in his hands, wiping away the tears. “Because you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Y/N scowls at this and hits his chest, hard. Hoseok coos at her as he hugs her tight and chuckles, “You’re an asshole because you headed out straight for my heart—hook, line, and sinker — and now I am completely blown away when I was supposed to be the first one to do so. Seriously, Y/N, I did not expect this to happen this way. Not when I also prepared a surprise for you tonight.” 

              Y/N’s brows raise in curiosity. Hoseok unzips his gym bag on the sofa and turns back to her, now with a red velvet box on his hands. 

              Hoseok pops open the box, a ring of the same design as the one she bought him stares back at her. But this one, instead of green emeralds, is embellished with blue emeralds, her favorite color.  Right then and there, Y/N wanted to cry.

              Hoseok rubs his nape. “I’m supposed to propose to you tonight as well. But you beat me right to it and now I forgot my speech.”

              Y/N chuckles at that as she wipes away the tears that have formed yet again on her eyes. Hoseok smiles as he squeezes her hand. “But, that doesn’t mean I’ll skip on this once-in-a-lifetime’s opportunity to propose to you,” Hoseok looks at her, “Y/N, I love you. And I know forever can be a heavy word and sometimes love cannot solve every problem that may come our way. But Y/N, what I said two years ago hasn’t changed. I will try my best. For you, I will. And we may be young but I know you and I are capable to make us work for as long as time can let us. Because you are Y/N, and I’m Hoseok. People may be against us but we know with each other, we are the best we can ever be. We deserve each other. We need each other. But most of all, we love each other. That’s all we need. Me and you. You and me.” After he breathes out, Hoseok cups Y/N’s cheeks and she leans forward and interlocks their lips in a soft kiss. 

              Y/N grabs onto Hoseok’s ugly green sweater and deepens the kiss, letting her mouth do the talking for her and him. For no words can be enough to express everything that is settling in their hearts tonight — euphoric bliss, the sweet feeling of triumph. Although Y/N can feel a tinge of the uncertainty of what may come to the two of them in the future grappling on her nerves, there resides in her heart the greater courage that despite the unpredictability of life, Y/N knows she can manage it with the constant she now has by her side — Hoseok. And for him, her. Because, Y/N is certain this is the most right decision she has ever made in her life: loving him. And, Hoseok proves it is the same for him as when the kiss comes into a close, he whispers on her lips, “Guess the déjà vu tonight is really working at its best. Fate really wanted us to be together.”

              Y/N grins at him, her forehead bumping into his, “And where’s your proof, future Mr. Y/N L/N?”

              Hoseok presses a kiss on Y/N’s forehead, on her cheeks, on her nose, then at the corner of her ear. He whispers, “Look outside.”

              And there outside, white droplets fall from the sky, lighting up the near-black horizon while frosting up the window panes. It is the first snow. Y/N smiles. What Hoseok said to her when she reciprocated his love confession doesn’t seem so preposterous now. It seems like fate really tied the two of them up together as she first met and started dating Hoseok when the first snow fell. There’s a saying that whoever you’re with during the first snow, you will be with that person for a long time. Y/N and Hoseok have already been living proof of that for being together in three years—friendship plus dating days combined — amidst whatever people say against them two. 

              And Y/N hopes, that as she and Hoseok promise forever to each other tonight, the saying will come true. Because she wants the two of them to be together for a very, very, very long time.  After all, Hoseok is right. She is  Y/N and he is Hoseok and together, they are the best they can ever be, titles and achievements be damned. The weather may be cold during these pinnacle moments of her and his relationship but their hearts are warm and cozy, and there is nothing more Y/N could ask for.

Epilogue:

“You know, Y/N, my original proposal was beautiful, I’m sure I’ll have you bawling tonight.”

Y/N gives him a look and Hoseok laughs, “Good thing they’re gone now. D’you know I actually wrote my entire proposal in my hands? They just got erased because my hands have become so sweaty when I chucked away the decorations I made for you.”

“What decorations?”

Hoseok pulls on the collar of his sweater, “Cut-outs of hearts and hypothalamus?”

“R-really? You remembered what I said to you three years ago?”

“Of course, babe,”Hoseok smiles, “It’s you. How can I forget that? But they’re not available anymore as I already threw them away. They looked like shit.”

“Where did you throw them?”

“In a paper bag….by your Christmas tree–hey, why are you picking it up?”

Y/N turns towards him, smiling, her hands gently holding the crushed hearts and hypothalamus cut-outs. “Because you made it for me, Hoseok. Of course they hold value to me. It’s you.”

“You’re really a Grinch, you know? You’re making me cry with your sweetness and beauty when I should be jumping up and down with joy right now.”

“….Do you always have to be cheesy like this?”

“Only for you, babe. And get used to it. You have a forever to experience this one-in-a-million love from the one and only Jung Hoseok.”

A/N pt. 2 | Hi hons! Sorry my Christmas gift for you all was late! My requirement deadlines in uni ended up until Dec. 16 and so for the majority of December, I was solely focused on uni stuff. I tried limiting myself from using page breakers in this fic, a challenge I put on myself to train my skills again in doing transitions in my writing. This story is inspired by the rivalry of science and art majors in our uni in my first year! Also! I hoped you guys appreciate my take on @kwritersworld’s prompt. I want to incorporate it in a very unexpected way, while at the same time, reflects my character in a way I‘ve never done before. OC here is a bit grumpy and lacks social skills to be friendly so I interpreted her as an everyday-Grinch hehe). Lastly, @bts-poetry, I really enjoyed doing mini Q&As with you! I hope you like this gift and I also hope we can talk more in the future!

All Rights Reserved 2019 © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Maeve//It’s Always Been You

Being friends with Maeve Wiley has never been an easy job. She always had something going on in her life, whether it being family trouble, boy drama or school problems. Luckily for her though, you were usually around whenever something had gone wrong. 

But being in love with Maeve Wiley was a completely different issue, especially when it came to boy drama, and recently she seems to be surrounded by it. 

Earlier today Eric had invited the two of you to Otis’ ‘small gathering’ seeing as though you were friends with the both of them (thanks to maeve, you were kind of a package deal), and you’d of course agreed. Maeve had been a little more reluctant, telling Eric that she’d think about it before following the rest of the quiz heads, but you’d promised you’d try and talk to her, before running after her. 

Everyone was well aware of the Otis, Maeve and Ola love triangle, everybody apart from the people who needed to know about it. But what everyone didn’t know, was that it should actually be a love square. You’d been in love with Maeve since the day you moved in next door. She was this badass girl that didn’t take shit from anyone and wasn’t afraid of anything, and you were in awe of her from the moment you saw her. And after she found you sitting alone on one of the hills just outside the trailer park, the two of you became instant friends, and you’d fallen in love with her more and more everyday. 

“Jean is going to kill him.” You say as you look around the trashed living room.

“Definitely.”  Eric agrees while the two of you watch Otis dance drunkly, his drink spilling on the floor as he did. Rahim hands the two of you a drink and you gladly take it, not nearly as drunk as you’d want to be. And definitely not as drunk as Otis is. He’d been drinking since you arrived, partly because of Eric, partly because of his nerves about throwing a ‘gathering’ and trying to win Ola back, but mostly because he was sad.

Maeve had arrived about an hour ago with some boy you recognized from the trailer park, Issac you think. Him and his brother had moved in a few days ago and they seemed alright, if not a bit cynical, but thats what Maeve seemed to like about them.

The two of you had hung out before the party and you’d managed to persuade her into coming, the two of you needed some fun after a rough couple of weeks and a party was exactly what you needed, even if it was at Otis Milburn’s house. You’d helped her pick her outfit (not that you were much help because she looks amazing in literally anything) before you left to get dressed yourself. 

You came back over after you were dressed and greeted her mum politely before going to find her. She had tried backing out of the party when you found her sitting on the sofa, but you’d managed to persuade her again with the promise of a lot of alcohol and the chance to talk things over with Otis. They both needed to talk about what had happened between the two of them, and yeah it killed you to see your crush be in love with someone else but it killed you even more to see her so sad. You wanted everything to go back to normal before it got complicated with stupid feelings for stupid people.

You’ve seen Ola a few times, going into random rooms, but you hadn’t really paid that much attention to her, you were too busy trying to control Otis’ alcohol intake...not that he was listening to you as well as also keeping an eye on Maeve. She looks happy enough talking to Issac and so you decided to leave them to it for a bit, just while you babysat Otis until Eric came back from wherever he’d disappeared to. 

However...

“Hey Otis.” Ola tries to catch his attention and your eyes widen. “Otis?”

“Oh god.” You mumble. You’d left the room to get yourself a drink and when you come back he’s talking to Maeve, with Ola not far behind the two of them. Both the girls don’t look very happy with him, however Issac looks very amused by his dancing, and at any other time, you would be too. But this is just a disaster waiting to happen. “Where’s Eric?” You ask Rahim as you look around the crowded room but can’t seem to find him anywhere.

“I’ve got my stuff, I’m leaving.” Ola tells him, an unimpressed look on her face as she holds her bag up.

“Okay. Bye Ola.” He waves her off but keeps looking at Maeve, a smug smile on his face and you curse.

“You invited her but not me?” She asks, looking at Maeve who rolls her eyes.  

“No.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t invite her. Eric invited her without my knowledge. He invited Y/n too.” He points behind him at you and you smile awkwardly. “I didn’t want her here at all.” He says and Maeve’s eyebrows raise.

“Ouch.” You mumble and move to stand in between Maeve and Ola. 

“I think I’m going to go too.” Maeve says annoyed and turns around to pick up her bag. You go to follow her but Otis stands in the way of the three of you, stopping you all from leaving. 

“Maeve, Ola. Stay, please. Please stay.” He says. “I have something to tell you. I have something to tell both of you.” He puts his drink down and spins around. “I’m going to tell everyone because...I can.” He stumbles onto the sofa and you cringe at the situation happening in front of you. “Sorry Connor.” He mumbles. “Excuse me, everyone! Everyone, come and look at me. I have an announcement to make. Can we turn the music down? Um, I wanna say something...to my party guests.”

“Otis. Get down!” You say but he waves his arm around, completely ignoring you.

“Um, so, this is Ola. I don’t know if you know her. She’s well, quite little and...and funny, and interesting, and pretty, and she was my girlfriend, until she told me I can’t see Maeve anymore.” He says and your eyes widen, Maeve rolls her eyes again while Ola looks at the floor. “Now, we all know Maeve. Scary Maeve. You know, she’s not actually scary. She’s just pretending.” That is very true, he does have a point there and its one of the things you love most about her. “Anyway...Maeve told me that she liked me, okay? And I like Maeve. I like Maeve a lot, a lot more than I liked Ola.” He admits and everyone gasps.

“Otis. Otis, get off-” Eric tries but he continues anyway.

“But I was trying to be a good boyfriend, so I said to Maeve ‘sorry, i can’t see you anymore’. And then, Ola dumped me. Yeah, its confusing. I was confused. But I thought probably a good thing ‘cause I just really wanted to be with Maeve. And I didn’t really want to be with Ola, and then I realized, Maeve Wiley just likes playing with people’s feelings, and she doesn’t really care about anybody else. Like, she brought this...man with her-”

“Otis.” You warn, your fists clenched by your side. You’re not a violent person but right now Otis is making it very difficult to be nice. 

“Yeah, anyway. So she brought this man. I don’t know, probably to make me jealous. Definitely didn’t work.”

“It definitely did.” Issac whispers.

“All in all, I think she’s probably the most selfish person I’ve ever met. And I think its good that I’m not going out with either of them because I think I deserve a whole lot more. Thank you for coming. Good night.” He starts clapping to himself while everyone whispers around him. “Not good night. Stay, enjoy yourselves. Music on, please!”

“You’re welcome to him.” Ola spits before walking out.

“What is her problem?” Otis slurs to himself.

“You’re an arsehole.” Maeve shoves past him making him stumble.

“Hey!” He calls after her, but quickly forgets everything he’s just said, his face lighting up when he see’s you. “Y/n! Are you enjoying the par-” You cut him off by punching him...hard, and a few people around you, including Ola and Maeve laugh in disbelief.

“You’re a real dickhead Otis Milburn!” You shove past him and catch up with Maeve, grabbing her hand which she gratefully takes. She’s staring at you completely shocked as the two of you walk out. Her hands shake as the two of you walk back home in a comfortable silence and you give her hand a reassuring squeeze every so often. 

-----

“Why are boys such...” Maeve trails off as the two of you lie next to each other. When you got back to the trailer park you insisted on her staying at your house for the night so she wouldn’t have to deal with her mum and she gladly accepted your offer. 

“Idiots?” You finish her sentence for her making her giggle and you blush softly.

“Well, that wasn’t the word I was going to use. But sure. Why are they such idiots?”

“I guess in this society, being male and an asshole makes them worthy of our time.” You reply making her laugh louder.

“You’ve really been spending too much time with me.”

“Like you could come up with something like that.” You scoff and she looks at you offended. “Its from 10 Things I Hate About You.” 

“I love that movie.” 

“I know you do.” You smile softly at her. “What Otis said, it wasn’t true, you know that right?” You ask and she sighs, turning to lie on her back. You do the same and the two of you stare at the ceiling, trying to make patterns out of the weird design on it. 

“The more I think of it, the more I feel like he was right though.” 

“What?” Your jaw drops. “How could you think that? Maeve, Otis was an arsehole back there, like you said. He’s just upset because nothing was going his way and he was being a child. You are the most selfless person I have ever met. I think you’re amazing and Otis should thank every god in existence that you’re in his life, because you’re really special. You’re amazing Maeve Wiley.” 

“You’re just saying that.” She rolls her eyes as she plays with her fingers, something she does when she’s nervous. 

“When do I ever just say something? Especially to you?” You raise a brow. “I don’t go around punching boys for just any reason. They have to really piss me off.” 

“True.” She laughs. “Thank you for that. How’s your hand?” 

“I think it’ll be fine.” You shrug and hold your hand up to try and see any bruises forming. After a few seconds of squinting you can make out a few dark bruises starting to appear making you smile to yourself. “If I were you I’d be more worried about Otis’ face.” You reply making her laugh loudly. 

“Yeah, like thats going to happen.” She giggles and turns to look at you, however her laughter is replaced with a frown when she see’s the sad expression on your face. “Whats wrong?” She turns on her side. 

“Do you still love him?” You ask and her breath hitches. 

No, I love you. I love you. I love you. I. Love. You! She wants to scream it. She wants to shout it from rooftops and tell the entire world. I love you and its the best feeling ever.

“No.” She shakes her head softly. 

“When did you stop?” 

“A few months ago.” 

“Why?” You ask. 

“I fell for someone else.” She says, her voice barely above a whisper and you look down, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Oh.” 

“They’re really the best.” She says dreamily. “They’re always there for me, no matter what and I really can’t imagine my life without them.” 

“I’m glad you’ve gotten over Otis.” You force a smile. “He didn’t deserve you.” You add and turn around quickly, facing the other side of the room. You don’t know its happening until its too late, and then you’re quietly crying because she seems to see everyone that isn’t you. 

“Y/n?” She asks, unsure of what to say. “Please turn around.” 

“Its getting late and we have school tomorrow.” You force out, your voice wobbling as you try to make it through and she sighs. 

“Please.” She adds making you sigh and quickly wipe the tears from your face before turning to face her. You’re glad your bedroom is dark so she can’t see the tears staining your cheeks, even though you know she already knows. “Y/n?” She brushes a piece of her from your face and your eyes flicker to look at her. “Its you.” She whispers and leans in slowly, her lips brushing against yours softly before you close the gap, pressing your lips against hers. The kiss is slow and gentle as your hands tangle in her hair while her hand travels down to your waist, pulling you closer. “Its always been you.”