#this rly got away from me it was supposed to be a DRABBLE

[save-a-forest-ride-a-bear]

Heya!!

So I'm a little obsessed with the secret relationship trope... i was wondering if you could do an Astarion x reader secret relationship but maybe during a fight, reader dies and has to be revivified? And Astarion freaks out, like he goes semiferal and histerical?

Maybe it could be during the fight with his siblings at camp so now Cazador knows he has someone he holds dear (even if Astarion doesn't want to admit it yet) which is what they were trying to avoid?

Thank you so much!!!!

🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ All I Want ❛ ✧

Featuring: Astarion x Reader

Not proofread!

# Notes: I'm not too good with drabbles but I rly like this idea so I decided to try! also no use of "y/n" because I'll be honest I'm not a fan of it lmao

It was his idea to keep the relationship a secret.

He knew how that sounded — like he was ashamed of his partner, like he didn't want anyone to know for the sake of his reputation. That wasn't true, and he assured them of it. It was simply a precaution, something to protect them both. Now that they arrived at Baldur's Gate and are closer to Cazador than ever, he couldn't take any chances. Not when it came to them, at least.

He wasn't used to this — caring about someone other than himself. It was always about his survival, but now he had someone else to worry about. Someone whose life was worth a lot more than his own. Someone he couldn't afford to lose.

So, he kept it a secret. It wasn't exactly easy to go about their day pretending to be nothing more than companions, friends at most. Ever since they got together, he realized just how starved he was for any kind of attention, any kind of affection. Having to refrain from touching them too much or being his usual, flirty self hasn't been a simple feat. But he knew how important it was that they kept things under wraps.

His feet were killing him after a long day of adventuring, from Wyrm's Crossing all the way to the Lower City. At least they managed to avoid some confrontation for today, so he had one less thing to complain about. They got settled in an inn and he managed to sneak out for a few seconds with his partner to at least get a good night's kiss. He wanted more, but knew that would have to suffice.

The others had already fallen asleep, but he remained tossing and turning. Something felt off. He wasn't sure what, but his nerves were on end, like his fight or flight response had picked up on something he himself hadn't yet. Perhaps that was for the best, as it allowed him to notice the sound of footsteps early enough to stand up and grab a dagger. His hand shook slightly, wrapped around the handle of the weapon as two familiar faces walked in. He felt sick. He knew what they were here to do.

"Get the hells away from me!" It wasn't quite a yell, but definitely loud enough to wake the others. He instinctively took a few steps back, trying to maintain a distance far enough to deceive his brain into believing that he was somewhat safe. "Peace, brother. We're here to take you home." Aurelia uttered somewhat gently, but it almost made him puke. Brother. Home. Just the notion of it made him dizzy with disgust. The Szarr Palace wasn't his home, and these goons were not his family — he was tired of playing along with this fucked up game of pretend.

It didn't take long for a fight to break out, despite his attempts at deception. He should've known Cazador wouldn't let him off easy. Karlach was the first to react, letting out a guttural scream of rage as she charged at Violet. The axe cut through flesh before the spawn could realize what was happening, getting stuck where it met bone. She screamed, but was soon silenced by another blow. While it was supposed to be lethal, she simply vanished into a cloud of black smoke instead of dropping dead on the ground.

Leon was next, aiming for the person who was closest to where he stood which, to Astarion's despair, happened to be his darling. The spawn's claws slashed their skin open, blood splattering on the floor as they yelped in pain. Astarion didn't think — he simply acted, pouncing on Leon only to drive his dagger through his heart one, two, three times, until he too vanished into thin air. He snapped his head back in their direction just in time to see Yousen sneaking up, grabbing them from behind and sinking his teeth into their neck. The scream, the way their eyes squeezed shut in agony and their hands clawed against the spawn holding them still was enough to make Astarion see red.

He hardly remembered moving. But he did remember the screams. Not from his darling, but from his brother, as he drove the dagger into the side of his neck and twisted it. He looked back at his lover again, but the dark cloud from Yousen obscured his vision. He didn't hear screaming anymore. Only his ears ringing slightly and the sound of laboured breathing from his companions.

When he could finally see again, he almost wished he couldn't. That'd be better than the sight of his beloved's body sprawled out on the floor atop a pool of blood, their empty, cold eyes gazing into his soul. He rushed to their side despite his shaking legs, stumbling on his way there until he fell to his knees beside them. He raised their head by the back of their neck, resting it on top of his thigh. He hardly realized he was hyperventilating, hands shaking violently as he cradled one of their cheeks in his palm. "No, no... You can't die. Wake up, damn it!" He choked out, his voice rising from a whisper full of disbelief to a screech of the utmost despair.

Karlach too rushed to their side, fumbling with her bag with quivering hands. "H-Hold on, soldier, I think..." She stuttered out nervously before cutting herself off as she pulled a scroll of revivify from the bag. She knelt next to the two and placed the parchment atop the corpse's chest. It glowed a bright white light, seemingly seeping into their skin. There was a deafening silence for a few seconds when suddenly, they woke up with a loud gasp, eyes widening as life was brought back into their being.

The pale elf didn't waste a second before pulling them into a hug, not minding the blood staining his clothes. He hid his face in the crook of their neck, only a small sob and whisper being heard from him. "Oh, thank the gods... Please, please never do that again..." He choked out before pulling away from the embrace, cupping their cheek and pressing his lips against theirs. He never felt that before. That immense sense of hopelessness, agony and grief. Not to this level, not of this kind — and he'd make sure he never felt it again.

However, as he pulled away from the kiss, he saw something in the distance. Aurelia, bleeding out on the ground, watching them seconds before she too vanished into the darkness. If he still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat out of sheer terror alone. Cazador knew. He knew about his spawn's newfound love. And Astarion would have to be a fool not to expect his master to take advantage of that fact.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

cat in a past life - y. welt

summary; quite literally as cute as a kitten.

genre/extra tags; scenario/drabble, rly rly short scenario, fluff, slight comedy, reader was from an orphanage, reader was a little sibling to the other kids in said orphanage, mute! (????) reader, reader doesn't talk ig but they scream

[platonic] [5-7 year old! reader] [gender neutral! reader]

a/n; don't really have much to say but i'm always a sucker for animal-like readers. i have my own interests towards owls and big cats most of the time. otters too. but mostly big cats and owls. ima be real though, this isn's very kitten like reader, kind of just me thinking thoughts about a clingy child! reader. hope you enjoy!

you were small. smaller than you were supposed to be at least. you needed a lot of attention and care, but your old home never gave you that. and eventually, you found your way into the astral express.

well, actually, welt had found you around as your small lonesome figure roamed the yard of the orphanage you once lived in. he kind of took you in that day. he visited once in a while, every two weeks, he would come in and find you. you took a while to warm up to him, staying away from him until you got used to his presence and then he offered you a home. a real home.

and you loved it. you often found yourself trying to lay on top of welt, pressing your hands on his face for attention or yelling in tiny as you stumble around to look for him.

sometimes trailblazer would yell with you as if making conversation.

["what are they doing?"]

["shhh. they're communicating."]

but most of the time, you clung onto welt for mostly everything. which he didn't really mind unless he was going to help the express trio in another problem they managed to create.

even if you couldn't do as much as the others, welt was more than glad to have you in his life. always watching as you stumble around behind, ready to follow him and trust him with everything.

he holds you in his arms at the end of the day (or maybe even all day if you decided to nap for a while), more than willing to let his arms go numb if it meant you were happy just sleeping.

[catboii]

((just a "little" (ha) update I guess, nothing major, just a note that I'm sorry if I post alot this week with seemingly no regard for my/my muse's vast presence on the dash, or if I end up writing alot of short weird drabbles to vent.... if there's questionable stuff it'll be tagged like always <3

I understand if you need to unfollow me to keep your dash clear for other people if you're mobile etc. or if you need to blacklist my muse's url for a bit if it's overwhelming

After xmas everything may have settled and if you wanna refollow then I'd welcome you back and wouldn't ask any questions. your comfort (whatever that may classify as in the context) is my utmost priority!

normally I try not to clutter, and I try to keep general post reblogs minimal and just queue most of them. I'm just... not doing too good rn

then again it's a 50/50 that I'll be posting nothing at all, just making my muse's presence known if it wants to sorta wave at someone from the depths of my brain hell jail.

I'll still be checking in around xmas stuff bc this muse gives me v happy bubbly vibes whenever I write it and that's honestly what I need rn.

I'm sorry if your muse reblogs/replies to one of mine's posts or smth and I seemingly glance over it. I genuinely just didn't see it. I always try and respond to stuff, or if it doesn't know how to reply I at least acknowledge that my muse saw it by liking it. but I might not have the mental capacity to actually keep up w stuff

...

BASICALLY I'm either gonna be kinda quiet or rly hyperfixated on not being in my own head for the next week or so.

I'm obv stressed anyway bc I need to do xmas shopping still and it's a struggle bc online it probs won't come in time. we're going "late night shopping" on thursday though so hopefully we can get a bunch of stuff then

but mainly an old work friend of mine passed away today. He's been unwell for a few years, and I dunno if he knew what it was and was just keeping it quiet, or if they genuinely couldn't work it out. last I heard he was getting MRIs.

I had a complicated relationship w him (positive) bc he was either bipolar or had BPD like me (although he wasn't diagnosed with either, but it was obvious he at least had bipolar), and if you know anything abt BPD you know what an FP (favourite person) is, and we were sort of each other's when we were working together? I think. like I say he wasn't diagnosed, but it felt like that. we hit it off really quick and were both really comfortable with each other, and he was just the sweetest most supportive person. he was one of my FPs, which basically means my brain was cursed to be in intense friendlove with him. He would tell me that he loved me and appreciated my friendship, was always saying you need to tell people you love them, however you can, however you mean it, because you don't know if you'll ever get to tell them again

he always showed off the little things I made him and made sure everyone knew exactly where he got the silly little origami animals on his desk, or who made his juggling balls that were his favourite thing in the whole world bc I made them for him by hand, and picked the fabric out specifically for him.

One time around xmas, bc of covid, we had these big plastic screen dividers between our desks and I used posca paint pens to draw him a HUGE Robin in a scarf and santa hat (his name was Robin and people always got him little Robin themed things, he loved them) on the one by his manager desk, like a name tag, but Facilities told him he needed to clean it off and chastised him thinking he did it, and you're "not supposed to vandalise work equipment" even though they're literally washable and it was xmas. we were sticking decorations everywhere, how is it any different? but he played along but he was really mad. He didn;t wanna say it was me that did it, because he thought I might've gotten in trouble, but he also wanted to argue that I'd put alot of work into it. I hadn't put that much in, it was just for fun and I liked drawing it, and he got to see it! That was the important part. and I said so. but I cleaned it off and drew him a new Robin on a piece of paper and he kept it at his desk like a retired picket sign, and told the story to anyone who would be polite enough to listen

mostly though, he gendered me correctly (and he was in his 60s so being so passionate abt they/them pronouns was just really sweet, though he was clearly bi but still in the closet, so it was maybe a little projection, in a way, or just straight up quiet queer solidarity), and literally agressively made sure everyone else did too, when he realised I'd been just letting people at work use whatever pronouns, he got really proactive and made sure all my paperwork was marked as "them" officially (with my permission). if anyone misgenered me he would get visably annoyed or disgusted, and there were a couple people who "forgot" (every time) and he actually got angry at them about it and reported them for harassment, which might've been a little extreme, but I honestly felt so validated, and I'm tearing up thinking about it. I don't think anyone's ever fought that hard in my corner, especially after only knowing me for, at that point, less than a year.

We worked together in a couple different parts of the business for a couple years, until some stuff happened that I shouldn't say bc I need my rp blog(s) to stay far away from my professional life, but we were gonna be working together doing something else, but it wasn't his thing, it was stressful and there were other reasons, but he just lost it and walked out.

we had a little joke when we were training before he left, he had this soft toy robin that he let me borrow because I was really anxious, and I gave it a little notepad and pencil and wrote something silly on it for when he got it back each time. usually some out of context joke on what we learned that day, so we could both laugh about it. but when he left I still had it, and I messaged him saying I would get it back to him sometime, but he said to keep it to remind me of him.

I put it away to keep it safe, but I'm gonna have to go and find it, because it's one of the only physical things I have left of him.

[velvetineblue]

a Valentines date with Taiquinn, @uroborosymphony your local trouble-maker vigilantes in love ~~ ( aka I was supposed to send a smol Valentines ask, but Tai muse got soo carried away with the dATE & it became so long that I had no choice but to turn it into a drabble. or, self-para ??? a self-para, I think, bc I can't write other people's muses, it scare me-- so i think self-para. but idek what the definition of those are, rly asjajj. anyway, i now RELEASE THE HOUNDS CATS -- )

he has to admit: when you've tasted a love like theirs-- a dark, brimming passion that could singe the world, if stoked-- all the simple, classical acts of romance that traditioned Valentines Day... they fell just a little flat, for him. he couldn't bring himself to give her nothing but heart-shaped candies, oversized plushes, or bouquets of flowers. there was nothing wrong with them, but they failed to represent his feelings for her. of course, no gift, no card, ( and no combination of words strung together, no matter how artful ) really could come close to expressing the depth of his feeling for Jung Ara …

but, never one to be bested by a challenge, and in the spirit of the holiday of LOVE ( and his never-ending quest to assure her of his utmost adoration and devotion to Ara, and Ara alone … ) he had planned for them a grand Valentines DATE !

it had started with all the makings of your typical St. Valentines' evening: all dressed up for a late night, intimate dinner at a restaurant. it was nothing overstated: a small local spot, a hidden gem that they didn't even need a reservation to get into on this busiest of busy nights-- it was that under the radar. and what kept it there was only it's 'undesirable' location: it was on the other side of town, the side where Tai and Ara had lived in their old, tiny apartment... and on their lazy no-cook nights, this had been one of their favorites places to patronize for a warm meal. the owners were a sweet older married pair, with two adults kids-- one that passed away tragically, and the other living overseas, with little time to visit their ma and pa. their shoes were old and worn, and the kitchen equipment was outdated, but their food was the nevertheless the best. they had gotten to know Tai and Ara by name and well-recognized their faces; always kind and paternal to the two regulars, even giving them extra food from their kitchen at no charge. and they never accepted a tip, no matter how many times Tai tried to foist one on them as a thanks… so, he'd once told them he'd invite them to his and Ara's future wedding as a gracious thank you, instead-- mostly because he wanted to see her reaction. would she laugh? would she blush? or was she down to go to the courthouse RIGHT THAT SECOND? because Tai was.

but those were the dates of the past. tonight, red lilies decorated the table, and coy looks were exchanged from across it. he steals a bite of her dessert, but mostly as an excuse to brush hands with her. and from the outside, they probably don't look all that different from any other couple out on the town that night. ( maybe more expensively dressed for the area, more effortlessly glamorous, but otherwise, one of many young lovers engrossed in one another… )

but when the meal is done, he motions for his beloved date to follow him to the back door. effortlessly, the two sneak in, and with hushed smiles, he leads her on a reverse scavenger hunt: he has stacks upon stacks of 50,000 Won bills, every one brought for them to hide in the backrooms of this cherished restaurant of theirs. he stashes paper bills in the cleaning closet, the freezer, hidden among big bags of dry goods on their shelves… it was enough money for the elderly couple to go into early retirement, if they wanted to. a little 'thank you' for all the good memories they'd made here; and another day of Tai and Ara putting money into the hands of the modest, hard-working people who actually deserved it…

evading detection with the stealth they'd mastered, they watched as the old man found a bill they had dropped in the kitchen-- asking himself out loud where it had come from. had he dropped it? after some contemplation, he pocketed it absentmindedly-- thinking nothing more of it, completely unaware of the bounty that awaited him. Tai and Quinn snuck out the back in fits of laughter, giddy from their good deed…

in the dark, dimly lit night, he pulled her into his arms to press a kiss to the bridge of her nose. he was still grinning with delight. " you're so cute when you're being good, and not scaring people with knives… " he was warmly and affectionately joking, and it's clear from his tone that he likes her just as much when she's 'good' and when she's 'bad'. it was true: she was cute when they were playing Robin Hood together … but she was also hot when she was defending their turf.

" . . . and now for something completely different ! " he announced with a dramatic flourish, like the ringleader of the circus that was their crazy life. leading her by the small of her back to the car-- almost excitedly, urging her onward with a gentle push. the sound of her heels clicking against the concrete was strangely exhilarating to him. " come on, come on-- you're gonna love this next spot. " it would be a long drive across the city, but never boring. the car glided down the highway late at night on relatively empty streets, enriching the mystery of what their destination would be. it became clear, however, that they were heading into the ritzy-RICH part of Seoul, all glitzy and beaming with white lights.

but when the car was stopped and parked, they were secluded. like they were hiding. nearby was a hilltop, grassy with sparse trees. he lead Ara up the hill by the hand-- a bit of a long walk, but they were used to this sort of thing. scoping. it would be obvious to Ara that they were scoping out a place: somewhere he intended to break into, most likely. ( they'd done this very thing a million times together, always hand-in-hand like this, and with adrenaline pumping in his blood. ) when they come to a stop near the cliffside, a huge sprawling white mansion is in view below them. he observed it ( with subtle disdain ) for a few moments, before turning to face Ara. he smiled at her. back to the good old Valentines classics, he pulled a giftbox out of his pocket. inside was a necklace, a heart-shaped design from Vivienne Westwood: silver, pretty, and dripping with modern luxury... he doesn't really explain why he got it, just clasps it around her neck admiringly. it does look good on her, but what doesn't? when the necklace was fastened, his palms drifted from the nape of her neck to the front, where her pulse beat in her throat. the delicate, vulnerable skin that it takes trust to let another person touch, and his hands massage affectionately.

" so, do you know whose house this is... ? " she might, he thinks. few would recognize it as anything more than a random mansion in Seoul, but she's the cleverest person he knows, and she probably keeps track of guys like him... " he's that stock executive who was in the news a couple weeks ago… and not for something good, like winning the world record for most hot dogs eaten. no… this is the douchebag who stole money from that orphanage in Sinchon. he set up a 'charity' in their name and took donations for the kids, but really, it was all a big tax break for him; it was a scam. the orphanage only got scraps of the money, and the rest… well, I guess it probably went into building this monster of a house. worst part is, he got away with it, pretty much. the judge gave him house arrest-- the guy's related to some high-up there politician, so you know how that goes… " it's how this city was: corruption, from the top down. this man had basically stolen candy from babies, and because of who he knew, he didn't have to do a damn thing to pay for it… " i mean, how bad can house arrest even be in a house like that ? " he looked it's way: the pool could be visible from where they were standing. big glass windows suggested luxurious insides. house arrest? more like a STAY-CATION...

Tai turned back to Quinn, taking out the last of his gifts. he placed it gingerly into her palm, let her examine it. it had a similarly branded design to her necklace, but it didn't exist only to be pretty; it was practical, too. a lighter. made of silver, but the flame flickered gold when you lit it up. Tai's grin sparkled in white. was she catching his drift?

him, her, fire, a rich piece of garbage in a house that was just begging to be burned to the ground…

he thinks he knows what gifts Quinn would covet the most. jewelry was nice… flowers were pretty... but JUSTICE was better. he could give her that. he could give her all three, and he would.

digits tangled into the strands of silky black hair at her nape, eyes lost in hers. in love with everything that she was: her chaos and her softness, her ruthless idealism… she was perfect. his voice had turned to a conspiratory, honeyed whisper. " what do you say, Valentine ? want to finish this date at his place? " and when they were done, all that should be left in the rubble where a mansion used to be, would be a paper Valentines' Day card left behind, slowly burning to a crisp. signed with love, from yours truly: Black Fang . . .

[bipercabeth]

👀 anything + "does it still hurt to think about?"

(happy birthday alyssa i love u!!!) 

this is a bellarke fic so let’s pretend it’s on my sideblog and call it a day. s7 compliant until 7x10. then i do what i want. 

It all happens so fast. 

Bellamy comes back, ragged and worse for wear but alive. He and Echo meet an abrupt, messy end Clarke doesn’t catch the details of. And somehow, inexplicably, Clarke ends up alone with Bellamy in Octavia’s quarters while the others recuperate. 

Part of her longs to be with them—making plans, gathering information, maybe trying MCAP to crack Bellamy’s stubborn memories—but loyalty and guilt keep her rooted in place. It’s stupid to think she could’ve prevented Bellamy from being taken in the first place, but still. She should’ve been there. She should’ve known sooner. 

“Stop thinking so loud,” Bellamy calls from the bathroom. 

It earns a laugh in the way only Bellamy can. Laughter has been scarce lately. It always seems to be when they’re apart. 

She pushes the door open and leans against the frame, making eye contact with Bellamy in the mirror. He’s frowning, running his fingers through the long beard he grew on Etherea. Clarke wonders how much time he’s lost. At least she knew the number of days she spent in Eden. It’s a cruel trick of the universe to steal more time after everything it’s put them through. 

“How’d you know?” she asks. 

He shrugs. “I still know you.” 

He says it like it’s inevitable. This man has no memory of the past several months to years of his life, but he knows when Clarke Griffin is overthinking based on her silence alone.  

“Can I ask you something?” 

Clarke smiles. “Anything.” 

He turns to her, scissors in hand. “Will you cut my hair?” 

She takes in his unruly waves, which are nearly as long as her own. “I don’t know, I kind of like matching.”

“Just take the damn scissors, Princess.”

Clarke’s hand freezes, her fingers ghosting over Bellamy’s. It takes all she has to curb the shock from her face, but she doesn’t manage to suppress her smile. “Been a while since you called me that,” she says lightly. She drags a chair from the corner and motions for him to sit. 

She busies herself ruffling his hair. “How short?” 

“Like it was before?” 

It makes sense, wanting to return to who he was and how he looked before this. It’s not Clarke’s favorite cut, but she can do it. She measures the length out with her fingers. “Here?” 

“No, before. On Earth.” His voice is heavy with significance. Clarke learned long ago not to put words in Bellamy’s mouth, but she can almost hear him say with you at the end of that sentence. 

She swallows. “I can do that.” 

She works in comfortable silence, chopping off the longest parts before shaping up the rest. Bellamy’s gaze burns into her through the mirror, but she can’t bring herself to meet it. Regardless of how fun it would be to make fun of him with half his head shaggy, all Clarke can think about is how he’ll look when she’s done. The Bellamy she imagined for six years in Eden is about to be in front of her. That takes some priority. 

Six years of cutting her own and Madi’s hair has made Clarke something of an expert. Before she knows it, Bellamy is halfway back to himself, save the beard. 

It’s a bit shorter than before, she thinks as he looks in the mirror. Despite her experience, she hasn’t done a cut like this. A slight miscalculation meant she had to take in the sides a bit more than she’d have liked, but it works for him. She thinks most looks would, even the caveman thing he has going on on the lower half of his face. After all, it’s Bellamy. 

Bellamy’s responding grin is somewhat hidden under the beard, but Clarke sees it in his eyes. He tips his head back against her chest as she fusses and fluffs the front with anxious hands. “Looks good, Princess.” 

There he goes with that nickname again. This time Clarke can’t hide the way her hands still. 

“You haven’t called me that in 131 years.” 

Bellamy frowns, as if to protest, but quickly devolves into distress and confusion. “I don’t think that’s right. I think I called you that when I was... wherever I was.” 

The amount of baggage to unpack in that statement alone almost shuts Clarke down. She can’t look at him. 

Instead she moves to the medicine cabinet, distracting herself with the need to get rid of that horrific beard. “Does it still hurt to think about?” 

“When I push too hard, yeah. Sometimes the memories are buried so deep it feels like someone is bashing against my skull. Sometimes I can feel them, even if I don’t know what they mean. I’m just drawn to certain things. I think that means they were important to me there.” 

“Like what?” 

“You.” 

When Clarke’s breath stutters and she looks at Bellamy, she only finds quiet resolve. 

“I may not remember it, but there’s no way I was stranded like that and didn’t think about you. And when I came through the Anomaly, that was the one thing that stayed with me. Just you.” 

“I know how you feel. After Praimfaya...” Clarke feels her cheeks heat. “Well, you know how I got through it.” 

The misery of all the times fate has ripped Bellamy away climbs in Clarke’s chest, propelling her back to the medicine cabinet where she finds shaving cream and a straight razor. 

Bellamy’s face changes in an instant, morphing from something wistful and longing to his signature Big Brother face. 

“Why is there a razor in my little sister’s room?” 

Clarke simply smiles. “Little?” 

“I don’t care how long she spent on Penance. She’s my baby sister,” he groans. “Besides. I could still be older.” 

He moves to take the razor from Clarke, but she holds it close. “Can I?” 

“I can shave myself, Clarke.” 

“I know, but—” The misery climbs up her throat, now— “I thought I lost you.” 

That softens him. He leans back and offers himself to her. “All yours.” 

There isn’t much room for talking after that. Clarke wets his beard and rubs in some shaving cream, thankful for the towel she wrapped around him before she started this whole process. She doesn’t want to see him in the stiff Bardo robes or the parka he made himself on Etherea. Here, in the Henley she recognizes from before he left, he is almost her Bellamy again. 

“Have you ever done this before?” he asks as she lines up the blade with his sideburn. 

“No,” she admits. “But I have steady hands.” 

They’re less steady with body heat radiating in the space between Clarke’s body and Bellamy’s, but she won’t tell him that. 

The first swipe is a series of careful tugs with her left hand, assisted by her right holding his skin. Each inch reveals constellations of the freckles she so dearly missed. 

Clarke watches his face as she tosses the hair and wipes the blade. He meets her with unwavering trust as she brings the blade back to his skin, this time with more confidence. With each pass, the man she loves comes back to her. 

Bellamy’s cheekbones are easy, all sharp lines and simple angles. It’s one thing to watch the freckles bloom on his cheeks and another entirely to feel his breath ghost her fingertips as she takes off his mustache. Her fingertip traces the scar on his lip without thought or caution. Her eyes follow. 

Next comes the divot in his chin, freed at last. Clarke rests her thumb there to tilt his head back for the final strokes along his neck. He’s all trust in her gentle hands. He always has been. It becomes them, same as love. 

Love lives in Clarke’s hands as she holds his neck, feeling his muscles jump with anticipation. They have never let themselves get this close, and now she understands why. Clarke has been so strong for so long, but Bellamy is her undoing. 

“All done,” she breathes. 

He sits up, but Clarke is frozen in place. Her blade hovers near Bellamy’s throat while her hand cups the other side. A single drop of blood gathers where she nicked his upper lip earlier. She has the ridiculous urge to kiss it away. 

“Been a while since I saw you bleed,” is all she can say. 

His breath is warm on her lips. “I don’t think it’s been a while since I bled.” 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to patch you up.” 

“You were,” he assures her.

“Bellamy, I...” 

“Yeah,” he eases the razor away and lets it clatter to the ground. “Me too.” 

The dam breaks, unleashing a flood of emotions Clarke never dreamed she would allow to surface. Bellamy’s hand tangles in her hair, and it’s unclear who pulls the other in first, but that doesn’t matter because his lips are on hers after centuries of waiting. She throws a leg over his lap and straddles him, her caution drowned in the wake of passion.

They part too soon for Clarke’s liking, but Bellamy’s hands stroke her back idly, like he has all the time in the world to touch her, and all that matters is that they get that time. They have seen the world end countless times, but it is reborn with each second Bellamy looks at Clarke like he looked at the sky that first day on Earth: joyful, disbelieving, reverent. 

“I never thought I’d get this,” he pants. 

“Me?” 

“Happiness.” He says it like it’s the same thing. 

Clarke kisses him for it, half because he’s sweet and half because she can. 

Their love has eclipsed entire planets, even outlasting the one where it was born, but he has always been Earth to her. The final journey home. Joy. 

And joy tasted better on Earth. 

[kinktae]

beyond the story: bitchin’

Hi friends! I hope you are all staying safe and healthy during these tough times! I really wanted to put something out there as a thank you to just how much support Bitchin’ got. You guys really are incredible. So, although this story has come to an end, I wanted to properly close the Bitchin’ chapter by giving you all a behind the scenes look at Bitchin’ and everything that went into writing it. This includes hidden easter eggs, backstories, alternative plot-lines, and a short drabble of the Bitchin’ cast 10 years after the story’s end.

Without further ado, please enjoy and thank you again for all your love. You have all of mine.

CHAPTER ONE – PARTNERS

Ah, yes, the start of this whole wild ride. I’ve always loved the whole nerd/popular person trope in fanfics, so it was only a matter of time before I tried my hand at it too. One thing I was adamant about was not making this a “popular person turns nerd hot/confident/better” fic as its kind of one of my least favorite cliches. With that in mind, and knowing that I was going to allude to TATBILB’s contract, I decided that I wanted Y/N to gain as much from the deal as Jungkook did. No blackmail, no just agreeing for the hell of it – Y/N was going to further herself and her dreams given the opportunity.

The beginning of the chapter is where the two are most separated and dissimilar throughout the whole story. It wasn’t that they were fundamentally different, it was that they approached life differently. Y/N was frustrated at how superficial Jungkook seemed, because she believes there is much more to life than just kicking your feet up and cracking jokes.

On the other hand, Jungkook didn’t understand why Y/N was so tense and on guard. To him, life was meant to enjoy and not take so seriously. Which makes sense, given that he grew up with minimal rules and minimal worries (bare minimum partners wassup !) 

“So, do we have a deal? Partners?” There was mischievous timber to his words, the kind that made you feel as if this would all later come back to bite you in the ass.

Pushing that pestering thought away, you took his hand into yours, holding his eyes as you gave it a firm shake.

“Partners.”

God, this bit. I knew from the minute I wrote it that I was writing the ending of bitchin’ along with it. I knew this was exactly how I was going to end this story, bc the word partners has multiple means right? In chapter 1, this meant business partners, but in the final chapter… it means life partners. Idk, I’m just still really happy with this writing decision :D

CHAPTER TWO – THE CONTRACT

Dearest Yara. We meet her in chapter two don’t we? Yara is completely based off of my irl best friend Yara who is a writer and who helped me A LOT with this story. She was my biggest supporter throughout figuring out this crazy plot. It was initially only about seven parts, but with her help I managed to bump it up to 10! Everybody say thank you Yaraaaa.

You were angry, that much was evident to her. Yara was sat in your shared dorm’s living room, a thick blanket engulfing her small frame. You briefly glanced towards the TV, it was tuned into MTV, the familiar music video of Every Breath You Take by The Police playing, before directing your glare back onto the copper-haired girl.

The song reference is a direct allusion to writer Yara’s fic, which is one of my favorite fics by her. She was actively writing it around the start of our friendship so it only felt right to pay respects to her. The introduction of her character felt necessary imo bc I wanted to make sure Y/N had a life outside Jungkook. Plus, I got to use the scenes between the two girls as a way to reference the music and culture scene. Yara is especially a fan of the powerful women in the music industry at the time, i.e., Madonna, Annie Lennox, Cyndi Laupner, etc.) Yara is a raging feminist and believer in sexual freedom and libery for women, we do in fact have to stan.

“How old do you think your sister is?”

“Hey, don’t sass me. For your information, Lyanna still has all her Care Bear tapes. She threw a hissy fit when my mom tried to give them away last Christmas.” Yara recalled.

Lyanna is one of writer Yara’s past pseudonyms. She always used to joke about how whenever she read it, it was confusing because there was Y/N, Yara and Lyanna, which were technically all her lolol.

FUNNY STORY ABOUT THE CONTRACT I INSERTED INTO THIS PICTURE… Twitter found it and made it into somewhat of a meme because no one knew it came from a fic rip. I was actually rly embarrassed and even wrote some posts about how much twitter scared me on my blog LMAO. but THEN weirdly enough, I actually stumbled upon a small community on twitter who actually found my fic and would TWEET ABOUT IT!!! LIKE REACTIONS TO EACH UPDATE!!! I wish I could go back in time and remember how giddy I was the first time I found a tweet about my fic. The fanfic community on twitter gave me a new love for the site (which I had previously had removed myself from because of its toxicity) and I have met so many wonderful people because of it. People even made themselves a little twitter group chat to talk about my fics, and now we are all friends! I miss posting a chapter of bitchin’ and refreshing my twitter feed as all my mutuals would post memes and live tweet their reactions. God that made me so fucking happy.

CHAPTER THREE – THE ROLLERSKATING DATE

I love the bickering in this chapter, because unlike the bickering in the first chapter, it’s actually less hostile and more playful. Y/N is slowly letting her guard down to the very persistently charming Jungkook.

“Woah. Family of six, huh? So you have siblings then.” He noted.

“Yep. Three.”

“Tell me about them.”

Looking up from where you were slipping on your second skate, you met Jungkook’s eyes, surprised to see genuine interest in them.

I actually originally had Y/N brush him off here. I was going to wait until the drunk party scene for Y/N to open up about her family and relationship with her sisters. But then I kind of thought to myself… Why? Y/N made peace with it and doesn’t hold onto those insecurities anymore. And objectively, Jungkook hasn’t proven himself to be a bad person so… I let Y/N open herself up to him.

“Then there’s the twins, Rosa and Lia.”

“Hold on. Twins? Wait… did they go to our high school?” Jungkook asked, his interest in this conversation doubled.

“Yep. They were two grades above us.” You confirmed.

“Oh shit, yeah, I remember your sisters, they were mad hot.” Jungkook let out a low whistle, before stiffening, flashing you an apologetic look. “Uh, in a totally non-meathead way.”

You offered the scared-looking boy a small smile, shaking your head.

Some of y’all notice but, Rosa and Lia are a blatant homage to my name: Roselia. ACTUALLY some form of my name can be found in every one of the rewind series fics, including upcoming ones. I’ll give a cookie to whoever can find every single mention hehe.

“I told you it was dumb.” You laughed nervously.

It wasn’t that you cared much about what Jungkook thought but you had a feeling a guy like him, who was popular and carefree, wouldn’t be able to sympathize in the way you would like him to.

“No, I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

Jungkook certainly was surprised. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. It was hard to imagine that the girl who was so unapologetically herself was ever unsure or insecure.

Somehow, the idea tugged at his heart, as if he understood you more if only just a little.

From the get go, Jungkook was extremely drawn to just how confident and secure Y/N was in herself. I knew I wanted Y/N to be unapologetically sure of herself and in her abilities. Something I didn’t want, however, was for frat boy!jungkook’s only personality traits to be liking sex and being a cocky bastard (although I am a big consumer of that trope heh). Jungkook is actually canonly incredibly insecure. He lacks a real sense of self, which is why he is so desperate for Kiri back. His relationship with Kiri at that time was a big part of what he thought was himself. He has somewhat of low self esteem tbh which is why he’ll go back to a woman who treated him unfairly. That’s why he comes off the way he does in the first chapter and why Y/N thinks he has a big ego... he’s overcompensating. He finds it so endlessly fascinating that Y/N, in all her confident glory, was actually once super insecure. He admires her all the more once she opens up about her past.

“Oh, Rosa is an intern for our hometown’s newspaper but between you and me those assholes don’t even let her write. She does coffee and burger runs for men in charge. And Lia sells ice cream at the mall.”

“What about your brother?” Jungkook asked.

“He’s training to be a cop just like my dad.”

“And your mom?”

“She works at a convenience store.”

All their careers resemble people in the latest Stranger Things season (Nancy, Steve, Hopper, and Joyce). Fun Cameo there.

“What’s wrong?” You wondered, following his eyes.

“October 16th, 1985. 6:48PM.”

“Yes. That’s today’s date and time. What about it?” You pressed, growing confused.

“Remember it.” He warned.

“Why?”

“It’s when I fell in love with you.”

This iconic line I actually got from the real Jeon Jungkook himself. While Jungkook wasn’t actually in love with Y/N here, it certainly was a cute way for him to express his admiration for her.

OH HERE’S A FUN FACT: the hickey scene at the end of this chapter where JK and Y/N kiss for the first time was actually supposed to be Yara giving Y/N the hickey like the best friend she is. Ultimately I went with JK giving it for... smut purposes... ≖‿≖ 

CHAPTER FOUR – THE HALLOWEEN PARTY

The decision for Y/N to be Freddie Krueger came from me planning to be him for Halloween. And I was! JK as Glen Lantz just followed naturally. I’ve seen some great edits of him as the character. Truly chef’s kiss.

I really liked that Jungkook came over to the girl’s dorm to get ready. I didn’t want a scene where Y/N was thrown into a situation she was uncomfortable with which is how much Nerd At A Party Scene go so made sure Jungkook stayed by her side throughout the part, going out of his way to introducing her to the people he cared about.

Tae’s character came in when I realized I needed a way to actually put Y/N’s event in motion. He was the missing link and BOY did you guys eat his character right up huh. Love that for me.

Another thing, the confrontation with Kiri was so hard to write guys, I reeaaaally struggle with girl conflict. GIRLS SHOULD SUPPORT GIRLS. However, not everyone gets along in real life so I went with Kiri being more along the lines of petty rather than outwardly a cunt to Y/N. Realistically, Kiri is popular and well liked among the greek life so being unkind to someone she hardly knows wouldn’t make sense. There’s definitely tension between these two but I tried my best to steer away from the typical cat fight/revenge porn/public humiliation trope most movies seem to follow.

CHAPTER FIVE – THE FIRST TIME

Introduction to Erik!!!! It was really important to me that Y/N had a life before Jungkook. That's why I wrote in Y/N having a fiancé. She’s not opposed to love, she just has reshifted her focus. She knows what she wants and is choosing to focus on that, which why when she realizes she’s falling for Kookie she’s so hesitant to admit it because she’s fallen down that road before. Even though Jungkook treats her with respect and acknowledges the parts of her she’s most proud of, she just isn’t willing to possibly give up her passions for love. Which is why she doesn’t immediately confess to him, even once she’s sure she loves him.

“I’m serious, nerd. You’re like… um… the sun!” Jungkook marveled, eyes growing full as the realization dawned on him.

“The sun?” You laughed.

“Yeah, like… you’re this bright, beautiful thing that seems like it’s here in front of me but is really light-years away.”

Jungkook was drunk, and although you were sure he was making more sense in his head, you couldn’t help but feel your face grow hot, unsure of how to react to his drunk analogy.

“You’re the sun, Y/N. You make the world turn for you. Never orbit for anyone else.”

And suddenly, you were kissing him, for no other reason other than you wanted to and that it felt like the right thing to do.

No real commentary here. Just love this bit. It’s probably my favorite interaction between them two ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) 

“Also… She’s, uh, currently dating Eunwoo.” You told Yara.

Your best friend blinked, silence falling over her.

“Yara?”

“Good for her.” She perked up almost forcibly. “Let her put up with his annoying ass.”

Yara could see the way your expression had turned dubious as if you didn’t believe her nonchalant act.

Yara turned up her nose defensively, “What?”

Ugh yes, some character development from Yara.... the flavor ! Yara (much like Y/N and JK) also struggles with love. She has a real fear of commitment and if far more comfortable with casual sex than relationships. She did develop actual feelings for Eunwoo, she just wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment so she cut him off. Fleed the scene if you will. Typical gemini smh my head.

"I don’t think the contract mentioned orgasms.” Jungkook smirked as you released his thumb.

“I say we let it slide.” You shrugged, leaning into him casually.

“You think?”

“Totally. Think of it as… a bonding activity.” You joked, resting your chin on his shoulder, peering up through your lashes.

“Damn, we’re really committed to this fake dating thing, huh.”

You laughed in the way that you hated, but Jungkook loved; it was loud and abrupt, but it genuine, and it was you.

“What can I say, I’m a method actor.” You sighed dramatically, causing Jungkook to grin before pressing a kiss to your nose, simply because he liked the way it always seemed to make you smile.

GOD THEY’RE SO WHIPPED FOR EACH OTHER ITS DISGUSTING!!!!!! I’m really happy I decided not to make sleeping together a big deal and I got a lot of feedback from you guys agreeing! I had a lot of fun with these two’s sex scenes knowing they could do it whenever they wanted.

CHAPTER SIX – THE STEM EVENT

I started the scene with smut BUT I wanted to point out that much of their time spent together is at Y/N dorm, Jungkook either napping, hanging out or doing work as Y/N would study like she always did. I liked the idea that Jungkook would get bored and would want attention from Y/N because she was so focused. Idk, I just wanted to write a love story about two people spending time together and figuring out how they fit in each other’s lives as opposed to some dramatic I mEeT HiM aNd mY LiFe bEcAmE cRaZy. There’s nothing wrong with that plot line, I just didn’t want that for these two dorks. I wanted Y/N to interact with JK’s scene and crowd but not give up her own which is why most days JK and her just lounged around in her dorm studying.

Also, I don’t know how the teacher/student roleplay made it into the smut, it just did, no further questions (ʃ⌣́_⌣́ƪ).

Then the event scene.

“You’re whipped, dude! Seriously.”

Jungkook felt his face go red, “Shut up, no, I’m not.”

“Hey, I’m not judging. I get it. That’s your girl.” Taehyung shrugged. Jungkook placed a hand on the fold up table in front of him, staring down at the information pamphlet you had worked so hard on.

“She’s just… so fucking driven and passionate about everything she does. Sometimes I look at her, and I’m just like… holy shit, what am I doing with a girl like her? I feel like she’s totally out of my league and being with me is holding her back but— I dunno, man. I just… really like her.” Jungkook revealed, voice growing small.

An unexpected wave of tenderness fell over the two boys, Taehyung throwing an arm over his little brother’s shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, bro.”

Jungkook didn’t know it just yet but dude was talking from the heart and, is in fact, totally whipped :’c

I loved the confrontation scene between the boys and Eunwoo because the boys standing up for Yara really did make everyone feel like a friend group, not just some character who happen to exist at the same time. It wasn’t just Y/N and Yara and one side and the boys on the other. They would all become friends, which is ideal to me. A boyfriend who likes your best friend and considers her a friend so you can all hang out??? Yes please.

Initially, irl Yara and I had noooo clue if Yara would end up with Eunwoo or not. That was actually the original goal actually. But after this chapter four, you guys made it ABUNDANTLY clear that you guys wanted to see Taeyara, despite the two never even meeting! Honestly, it wasn’t until this chapter was written that we decided for sure that Eunwoo was out of the picture for Yara. Part of me really wanted to keep Yara single, but irl Yara insisted on dick and frankly, she’s right. Bitchin’ Yara deserved a shot at love. She definitely has her own story outside of Bitchin’ and will experience a lot of growth in the future.

“God, I know. I do not miss that temper of his.” She chuckled, her words piquing your interest.

“Temper?”

“Oh, yeah. Have you seriously not experienced it yet? He’s got some gnarly anger issues. Not to mention all the lying…” Kiri paused suddenly, straightening up as she flashed you an apologetic look. “Yikes, I’m sorry. I totally should not be telling you this. I’m not trying to be that gross girl that shit talks her ex to his current girlfriend.”

Miss Kiri, Miss Kiri. She really acted up this chapter didn’t she. There was a lot of discussion about whether or not those things she said about Jungkook were true. Which was exactly what I wanted hehe. We come to find out that Kiri had definitely stretched the truth. She really is good at manipulation and understanding how people think and it’s why she is in the role that she is in. Messy queen.

CHAPTER SEVEN – THE ROOFTOP DATE

This entire chapter was inspired by High School Musical with Troy and Gabriella’s rooftop garden scenes. This was my shortest chapter and honestly, probably not my strongest. I definitely went into writing this with zero concept of what I actually wanted to happen. Usually when I write my chapters I have a 4k long outline of it beforehand that I go off of. Not this one though. I really just winged it and I tried my best to write a chapter that really showed off (dialogue wise) just how this couple bounces off each other. I do really like some of the banter they have in this chapter.

You had taken note a little wooden popsicle stick poking up from the soil of the yellow flowers. Acacias, they were marked. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you considered his words.

Yellow acacias stands the value of true friendship and can indicate a secret love! I thought that was very appropriate given these dummies' relationship.

“So, you probably know why I brought you here.”

You nodded.

“You’re proposing, right?”

“Yeah, I– oh, shut up.” He laughed, the serious mood shattering as you joined him.

Even though I knew they were going to have a semi serious talk, what with Y/N asking about what Kiri had told her, these two dufuses realistically are just too comfortable with each other to stay serious for too long.

“Hey, I said that out of frustration, I didn’t really mean it. I’m sure she’ll come crawling back soon.” You attempted to comfort him, hoping to sound sincere.

“Even if that’s true, I’m not entirely sure I want that anymore.”

“What?” You blinked. Jungkook shrugged.

“What about us?” He met your eyes, causing your breath to hitch.

“What about us?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, noting the way the timber in your voice had become higher pitched as if panicked.

MORE FUN FACTS LMFAO: I typically do this thing with unplanned chapters where I just go for it and write and usually it works out. But when I wrote this down I remember stopping and being like ??? WHY DID I JUST WRITE THAT ??? I don’t like deleting my writing so I had a serious think to myself about whether this was going to be the moment Jungkook confessed or not.

Canonly, I decided that Jungkook did in fact mean ‘us’ in a romantic sense, but because of the way you perceivably panicked at that possible meaning, he decided against taking the conversation in that direction, instead speaking about ‘us’ in a platonic sense. Poor kookie :(

“Stop. Listen to me, Jungkook, you’re a fucking great guy, okay? You’re charismatic and funny and care about your friends… sure, you almost ruined my event, but it was mostly to defend my best friend when Eunwoo got too pushy, right? You’re a good guy, meathead. I know I joke about your ego, but I really believe you’re capable of more than you think you are. Seriously, Kiri is so lucky to be the object of your affection.”

Jungkook watched the way the sun’s orange light kissed your face, a bittersweet feeling growing in his chest as he contemplated the object of his affection. Just a couple of months ago, he would have had no doubt about who held his heart, but as you held his stare, he found himself unsure and yet, entirely sure all the same.

“Jungkook? You okay?” You frowned, catching in the sadness in his eyes.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. I just… realized something.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“…It doesn’t matter.” He smiled, the gesture hardly reaching his eyes.

It’s in this moment that Jungkook decides that there is no way you hold the same affection towards him that he does to you. He mistakes your words of comfort as you pushing him away. You are so kind and encouraging and Jungkook loves you so much that hearing you insist about him ending back up with Kiri hurts him so bad.

But you are still unsure about your feelings and genuinely believe that's still what Jungkook wants. You’re just being a supportive friend!! :( It isn’t until the end of this chapter when Y/N has her talk with Yara that she realizes, oh man, she’s in deep.

CHAPTER EIGHT – THE MISTAKE

BLAH. This chapter is so BLAH, you know? Having to write this chapter was SO HARD. I texted irl Yara complaining about how much I hated having to put my characters through this and that I wanted to just end the story on chapter 7 and keep them happy forever. BUT ALAS! I had planned for this to happen from the start.

You tasted like the mint of your favorite brand of toothpaste. He imagined if he had caught you any later then the mint would have been accompanied by the taste of coffee, knowing the way you rarely started a day without a cup.

God, he had missed the taste of you.

What you guys didn’t see is Jungkook spending the night with Kiri, and immediately kicking her out, freaking out as the weight of guilt washed over him. He knew he had done nothing wrong, that you weren’t his real girlfriend, and that getting back together with Kiri was exactly what he had signed up for. It was what he should’ve wanted. But it wasn't… because you were what he wanted. And that was exactly what he was going to tell you as he marched over to your apartment.

But he panicked. His mind already decided that your answer to him would be no– that you didn’t feel the same. So he kissed you. He had you in the only way he was allowed to. He was selfish and impulsive and so incredibly scared that he ended up hurting the person he loved the most.

Initially though, I had Jungkook get back together with Kiri, not that he slept with her right before sleeping with Y/N. But I decided TEEHEE let me just make everything erupt into flames. However, I didn’t realize just how angry with Jungkook you guys would get. I remember thinking DAMMIT WAS THAT TOO SCANDALOUS?? I knew I was going to have to work hard for Jungkook to redeem himself to my readers.

“She wants to get back together.” Jungkook swallowed dryly, eyes wavering between yours as if to gauge your reaction.

“…Oh.”

You shook your head.

“I mean, wow! That’s… That’s great!” You smiled, something tearing apart inside you as the words left your lips.

“Y/N–”

“Seriously! This means it worked, right? This is exactly what you wanted to happen.” You enthused, turning your head so that he couldn’t see the way your eyes had welled up.

Jungkook’s heart was pounding in his ears, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around you.

“Yeah… yeah, no, you’re right. We did it.” He replied monotonously.

GOD THIS PART IS SO UNBELIEVABLY FRUSTRATING! JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE EACH OTHER YOU MORONS! This entire situation is so convoluted because there's so much information missing and not being expressed, I seriously want to ring my own neck rereading this bit.

“Are you mad?” He called out cautiously, a heavy feeling falling onto his chest.

“Why would I be mad?” You quipped back sharply, causing Jungkook to flinch. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“I just thought… I mean we’ve been fooling around a lot lately, so I didn’t know if—”

“If what? I had feelings for you?” You scoffed. “Please, as if I’d ever fall for you.”

And there it was— everything Jungkook already knew but had been so afraid to hear. Of course, you didn’t feel for him what he felt for you. How could he have expected anything different?

IDIOTS!!! THEY'RE BOTH IDIOTS!!! I don't know how y'all put up with this for so long. Forgive me.

CHAPTER NINE – THE BREAK

Okay I actually love this chapter. And for many reasons. Let me break down the three scenes for you guys.

Scene one: Kiri confrontation

Kiri is definitely an opposing antagonist. She is constantly working against Y/N because of their interests directly conflicting. BUT. I would argue that the biggest antagonist to this story is the inner ones – Y/N and Jungkook's lack of ability to admit their feelings constantly holding them both back from their happy ending. That being said, a confrontation scene between Y/N and Kiri was MUCH needed. While I suppose I can understand why Kiri doesn't like Y/N, that doesn't change the fact that she has been disrespectful and catty. So miss Y/N had to put Miss Kiri in her place (•̀ᴗ•́)

Scene two: Yara and Tae at the library

Fanservice. That is all. LMFAOOO y'all reallllyyy wanted it to happen and who am I to deny my people what they want. It was really fun getting to explore my side characters and develop them through interactions outside the two main characters. IRL Yara also mentioned giving bitchin’ Yara and Tae their own chapter as a joke and I was like LOL BET. I fully was going to but then I got the idea for the next scene and was like ahh ok maybe not the whole chapter.

Scene three: Meeting with Erik

So. This was a SUPER last minute decision. Like, it wasn’t until I was writing this chapter that I planned on Erik making an appearance. I saw a tweet with someone saying their bitchin theories and they mentioned Erik appearing out of nowhere and I was like,,, HOLD ON!!!! That could be kind of spicy ≖‿≖ 

I knew for a fact JK was NOT going to be forgiven in this chapter; I needed a way to lay the situation out between the two dorks without trying to seem like I was trying to sway my audience in a way that didn't make sense to the story. Y/N was rightfully angry. But she wasn't only angry about the timing of the sex. She was angry that Jungkook went back to Kiri at all and there was no way she was going to admit that. So who better to lay it all out than calculated, unbiased third party Erik. He deserved some character development after all.

I also liked the idea that Y/N had, in theory, “romantic options.” Losing Jungkook didn’t mean the end of her life. Having my female lead stand on her own was very important to me.

CHAPTER TEN – THE END

RIGHT OF THE BAT I needed Jungkook to suffer. So that whole scene where he tries to interact with his old group only for his presence to make everything awkward MMMM yes, sweet revenge on my part.

You were surprised. His hair was no longer shaggy and long like you remembered it. Instead, it had been freshly cut, looking healthy and neatly styled for the first time since you met Jungkook.

THE WAY SO MANY PEOPLE COMMENTED ON THIS LINE “but Y/N liked it long?!?”  IS SO FUNNNYyyyy. So let me clarify a thing. Jungkook had always wanted to cut his hair right. The only reason he didn’t was because Y/N told him not to. With Y/N no longer in the picture to convince him out of it, he cut his hair. That’s really all there is to it skfjsjf.

You know, I had written this part around the time I had just finished up the third ch believe it or not. And it was COMPLETELY different. I had it planned that Yara and Y/N ignored him throughout class and Yara had gone back after the bell rang to go verbally assault JK. And as the two hashed it out, only then was that when Jungkook would realize that he liked Y/N after Yara literally spelled it out for him.

“You like her, dumbass!” Was what I had written Yara saying. I really had written him in denial for ten chapters, I was a whole sociopath (╥﹏╥). But ultimately, I decided that Jungkook came to that conclusion on his own and the decision to apologize to Y/N would have been made over winter break.

“You said Kiri came over asking for you back, yet you still came over and slept with me the next day. Even though the two of you had sex the night before. Do you understand how that makes me feel?”

“I’m—”

“Like garbage!" You emphasized, the white paint of the door somehow irritating you further. "I felt like I was something you threw away and picked back up whenever you felt like getting your dick wet.”

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you tried your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you.

“Not to mention to everyone else, it looks like you cheated on me. Which makes me look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.

Jungkook said nothing in reply, which somehow made it easier to say all you should have said that day in your room.

“It just sucks to realize that someone you once cared about sees you as nothing more than a toy. It fucking sucks.”

Man :( writing this hurt my heart. I really, really, love bitchin!y/n and writing her hurting freaking stinks. But she had to speak her mind. She deserves the chance to get everything off her chest with the way Jungkook hurt her.

Your heart and mind were in constant paradox, torn between wanting him back and wanting him to know just how much he had hurt you. Your mind ultimately won the battle, of course, but as Jungkook stood just a few inches of drywood apart pouring his heart out, it was hard to say which major organ was responsible for your next words.

The creak of the door being pushed open sent Jungkook's eyes wide, revealing your hesitant form. You had your arms crossed over your chest as if to guard the contents inside of it.

You looked like an angel underneath the bathroom's blue fluorescent lights, beautiful and lovely, a stark contrast from your next crushing sentence.

“I slept with Erik.”

Hehe. Ofc my girl Y/N had to have a rebound!!! She knows that life goes on. However, as I wrote in, she definitely regretted it. It was kind of the same situation that Jungkook was in where he pursued something just because it was familiar and a distraction and not because he really wanted it. Both Y/N and Jungkook are flawed characters but that’s okay! If anything, Y/N’s mistake of sleeping with Erik is what allows her to forgive Jungkook. Knowing first hand how complicated their entire relationship really was.

“I don’t need you… but I don’t think I want a life without you.” You finished shyly.

Your eyes were locked with his when suddenly a small noise escaped him, eyes pulling away from yours as his head moved to attempt to hide the way his eyes had grown wet.

I got this line from one of my best friends after her ex broke up with her. It made me physically sad and really sympathize with her so I quickly wrote it down into my notes app to save for later LMAOOOO. Knowing that you are your own person and life will inevitably go on after losing someone, but that your heart still wants and is pleading for the one person you can’t have. SO SAD. I’m happy I got to use this line in one of my fics.

The note Jungkook wrote Y/N,,, imagine him not being able to sleep one night over winter break so he just writes down everything he should have told Y/N while he still had the chance…. I’ll for real cry dude, he’s so cute. Also, the line about him buying you fluffy Halloween socks for Christmas went over people’s heads I think but HECK I THOUGHT THAT WAS SO FUNNY AND SWEET (because Y/N bought Christmas socks when it was Halloween teehee).

"Are you two dorks done crying?" Yara’s voice rang out suddenly, causing both of you to jump apart.

"Yara, you creep! Privacy, dude! Ever try knocking?" You sniffed, wiping at your face hurriedly.

"What? Like you were peeing with Jungkook in the bathroom? Please." She waved you off, walking back into the living room to give you two some privacy. She did say Jungkook had 15 minutes before she’d have to come back in after all. "Anyway, Tae will be over in 10 minutes for the Saved By The Bell marathon that’s on so you guys are more than welcomed to join." She called out from her newly seated position on the couch.

I included this scene with Yara because things were getting too serious for my liking ngl. Plus the idea that the four of them would all come together at the end for a much needed reunion made my happy bitchin heart soar.

Jungkook let out a laugh, his palm finding your cheek, eyes locked on your lips. You were preening for his kiss, mouth parting slightly as you anticipated it.

“Partners?”

The question took you by surprise, eyes widening at your not so pretend lover.

Idiot.

“Partners.” You smiled softly, eyes shiny and brimming with tears as he kissed you for what must have been the millionth time, but still somehow felt like the first.

UGH I LOVE THEM I REALLY DO. I was so happy with how this final scene came out :( They’re partners, they really are I miss these boneheads.

AND NOW, I PRESENT THE CANON FUTURE OF THE BITCHIN UNIVERSE...

10 YEARS LATER

Let’s be honest, Jungkook popped the question the day of graduation, he can’t imagine a life in which you wouldn’t be beside him

You said yes (shocker)

Cue Jungkook being the most wonderful partner and respecting your wish to finish your residency program before having the wedding

You absolutely kick ass at being a neonatal surgeon

Also, Jungkook started a film company! It’s small but he loves what he does and works with colleges and helps out the film majors with resources and equipment <3

SO IT'S THE DAY OF YOUR WEDDING RIGHT

Yara and your sisters are helping you get ready, with your best friend as the ever so reassuring maid of honor

And by that I mean you’re as calm as a cucumber and Yara is one wrong move away from having a stroke

“Y/N… Don’t freak out....The catering company put in two orders of shrimp instead of chicken and steak.”

“Yara, it’s okay.”

“NO ITS NOT???? THIS IS YOUR WEDDING DAY AND YOU’RE GETTING CRUSTACEANS.”

Y/N making Yara take a seat and practice some breathing exercises so she doesn’t upset the baby

Oh yeah, Yara is 10 weeks pregnant

Taehyung is the dad lol

Yara and Taehyung have been together ever since that day at the library hehe <3

They moved in together and adopted a cat and everything (sweet boy Tae wanted a dog but Yara’s afraid of dogs and Tae would do anything for that woman so Yeontan the cat it is)

Yara refuses to put a label on their relationship even after all this time, and Tae doesn’t ask for one. They’re happy and dedicated to each other and don’t feel the need to put pressure on something that’s already so perfect

Yara is actually violently in love with Tae but still scoffs when Y/N tries to bring it up

“Oh my god, you’re so in love with him”

“Huh??? you must be sick or something. Get well soon, damn :/”

Yara likes to come up with different labels for Taehyung every time she has to introduce him. Among her favorites are roommate, rent sharer, baby daddy and penis lender

Speaking of Taehyung, he’d have a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder as he tries to calm down the panicking groom to be

“JK, breathe.”

“What if she doesn’t show up? What if she doesn’t want to marry me? What if I pressured her into this and— and I’ve freaked her out and now she hates me?”

“Dude, you guys have been engaged for eight years. She’s had her opportunity to run. She’ll show up.”

Taehyung scruffing up the younger man’s hair reassuringly, which only flusters him more because DAMMIT he wants to look perfect for you and now his hair is messed up >:(

(You like him no matter what his hair looks like though)

Jungkook literally swallowing down a sob as you walk down the aisle and he lays his eyes on you for the first time

You having a dumb smile on your face the entire walk over because your husband to be is crying and you haven’t even exchanged vows yet

The entire audience going all sobby when you finally do exchange vows because they’re so beautiful and real

The ten years together has not been easy— from financial struggles as you tried to support yourself through med school, to personal conflicts when Jungkook wanted to start a family already

But you guys figured it out

You always do

He’s your person. And you are his.

Y/N’s sisters Rosa and Lia are a WRECK— even your dad is tearing up

Your family loves Jungkook and have been counting down the days until you guys married, let’s be honest

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Jungkook punching the air with a “FINALLY!” before kissing the hell out of you

The cutting of the cake inevitably turning into a food fight

The shrimp entrees turning out to be pretty damn good

Yara catching the bouquet and wagging her brows at Taehyung suggestively

Jungkook pulling you aside to take photos of you outside the venue because you look so so pretty and he loves the way you smile when he’s the one behind the camera

The party is in full session, your siblings tearing up the dance floor like the extroverts they are

You and Jungkook are sat at the head of the room, hands intertwined underneath the table as you watch a tired and painfully sober Yara swing her bare feet onto Taehyung’s lap, requesting a foot rub

Watching your pregnant best friend and her lover together, you turned towards your own, smile impossibly wide

“What?”

“Let’s have a baby.” You’d grin, so stupid happy

Jungkook’s eyes going round and immediately jumping up from his seat because god that’s all he’s ever wanted

Being tugged out the room by a giddy Jungkook, one of your heels flinging off somewhere behind you.

“What’s happening? Where are we going?!”

The two of you find yourself in a storage room somewhere on the hotel floor

“Jeon Jungkook, what the hell—“

His mouth find yourself, kissing you in a way that couldn’t at the altar

You kissed him back without questions, arms wrapping around the man you now called your husband

“I love you.” He’d sigh into your neck, his hot breath causing you to shiver

“I love you too.”

“Let’s make a baby.”

“Yeah let’s— wait, right here? Right now?!”

Jungkook merely nodding as his mouth found the exposed skin of your chest

“Meathead, we can’t just ditch our wedding to have sex!”

“Why not? We did our marital duties. Now it’s our guests' job to get embarrassingly drunk and make a fool of themselves on the dance floor. No one will even miss us.”

“Isn’t baby making what our honeymoon is for?”

“Screw that. I’ve done my waiting. Let’s start our family, nerd.”

Jungkook kissing your protests silent before you inevitably give in and let him take you right there and then, your wedding dress hung around your hips

Husband and wife coming together with shaky breaths and hushed moans as they promise the rest of their lives to each other, making every argument, struggle or moment of uncertainty leading up to now totally worth it

Walk of shame back into the party with nervous hair fixing from you and a proud grin from Jungkook

Yara figuring out exactly why you two had sneaked off to, flashing the newly weds a knowing smirk

The night of your wedding, Jungkook surprises you with a present

You unwrap it in confusion, only to see that it’s a glass frame and inside of it is the wrinkled and worn out lined paper the two of you had scribbled on many many years ago

Jungkook hangs up the contract right above your bed as per your request, smiling as he does and jumping on him the moment he puts down the hammer bc dammit it you’re too heckin excited to make love with your sentimental loser of a husband

And yes, by the next month, you are pregnant and incredibly happy

And of course, your daughter and Yara’s son grow up to be best friends, not a family holiday passing by where they aren’t told the story of the totally bitchin’ way both set of their parents got together

[lazywonderlvnd]

if you are indeed still taking prompts... i would literally adore genuinely anything else u wrote involving herbology prof draco icb i never considered it before but now i’m obsessed

god same 😩👌op rly said here’s what yall are missing!!! here’s a little drabble for u (until i get herbology prof draco in another actual fic) that’s a bit of a prequel to utterly yours. enjoy bby ❤️

It’s been almost two years since he’s visited Hogwarts. He doesn’t generally let it go that long — at least once or twice every year Harry usually makes a point of it, to see McGonagall and Flitwick and Dumbledore’s portrait, to walk the corridors and engorge himself on the familiarities, to find an inner peace, like he’s visiting a spiritual temple rather than his old school. Well, it certainly feels spiritual to him, anyway.

The reason he’s here now, though, isn’t a personal visit but rather a last resort. He’s been through the Ministry’s substantial library what feels like a thousand times looking for information pertaining to a case, but he’s found nothing. It had been Hermione to suggest trying the Hogwarts library, which had been hysterical until he realised it wasn’t a bad idea.

And he’ll get there eventually — to the library. But it’s been two years and as soon as Harry sets foot inside he’s overcome with a strong desire to wander around first. McGonagall, who had personally escorted him from the gates to the front doors, leaves him with a last “Good to see you, Potter” before hurrying away to a meeting. 

An hour later he’s thoroughly made his way through most of the castle and gone out to see the pitch, thinking of stopping by the greenhouses before he goes to the library to get down to business. 

As he nears them a bell goes off inside the castle signalling the end of the lesson and he sees a large group of mixed Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors coming out of greenhouse three. He’d never been terribly close to Professor Sprout but he thinks he may as well say hello while he’s here. 

The kids stare at him unashamedly as they pass but no one engages him, for which he’s grateful. When they’re all heading back up towards the castle he slips inside the greenhouse, immediately assaulted by the distinct, earthy smell he associates with Herbology, everything taking on a greenish-gold hue he finds extremely pleasant.

He moves through the greenhouse slowly, careful not to touch anything even as he admires a few large flowers in a shade of impossibly bright blue and something that looks like a cactus except that it’s swaying ominously.

He finally sees a head as he’s nearing the back, partially obscured behind a tangle of leaves. Confusion grips him instantly; he’s got no idea who it is, just that it’s definitely not dumpy little Professor Sprout. The white blond hair — turned golden in the sunlight streaming in through the glass — looks awfully familiar, but it can’t be —

But it is. Malfoy turns a little, just enough so Harry can see part of his face, and when Harry catches sight of a smudge of dirt on his cheek he suddenly can’t look away from it.

It’s the most un-Malfoy thing he can imagine, that bit of dirt. He’s wearing gloves but Harry can see some dirt on his elbow too, just below where he has his sleeves rolled up.

His stomach does a weird flip. Weird not because it’s unfamiliar — he knows what it is — but because it’s really not supposed to be looking at Malfoy that gives him that feeling.

Malfoy, not Professor Sprout, is packing dirt into a pot. He lifts his hand and uses the back of his wrist to wipe away a few glistening beads of sweat on his forehead, which is creased with concentration. There’s a clump of hair hanging in front of his eyes that he seems not to notice.

Then he picks up the pot, turns towards Harry, and finally notices him. 

He sees shock on Malfoy’s face and only half a second before he drops the pot Harry realises what’s about to happen, darting forwards to catch it before it can explode on the ground.

“What the fuck!” Malfoy exclaims, stumbling back a step, clearly disorientated. Harry lets out a breath of relief and sets the pot on the nearest workstation. “Jesus — Potter — what the fuck are you doing here!”

There is, Harry notices, a soft blush colouring Malfoy’s cheeks and nose. It’s very endearing.

“I’m really sorry, Malfoy,” he says, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice only semi-successfully. Malfoy scowls, and that’s endearing too. It’s less venomous than he remembers it being in school. Plus it’s hard to take him too seriously with that bit of dirt on his face and when Harry had just witnessed him elbow-deep in soil. God, he looks soft. He’d never known Malfoy could be this soft. “I had no idea — I was coming to see Sprout, you’re not …?”

He doesn’t actually want to say the words because the idea is so ludicrous he’s afraid it’ll sound stupid and Malfoy will laugh at him. But he’s here, isn’t he? Covered in dirt, clearly knowledgeable, and Harry had just seen a class coming out of the greenhouse.

“Sprout retired end of last year,” says Malfoy. He’s finally recovered from the shock and is pulling his gloves off now, setting them down next to where Harry had put the pot after snatching it out of the air. He gives Harry a searching look that’s difficult to read.

“So you’re …?” He still can’t say it.

Malfoy lifts an eyebrow. Harry can finally see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“The new Herbology professor,” Malfoy says, finishing the sentence for him. “Yes. You can pick your jaw up off the floor now, Potter, you look more like a vapid tree frog than ever.”

“I just … I didn’t realise you even liked Herbology.”

“Well that’s weird,” says Malfoy, turning now to the large basin behind him with a tap over it. He turns it on and runs his hands under the water, sloshing it up his arms to get rid of the dirt covering them. The smudge on his face remains, though. “I thought I made it very clear how much I loved Herbology all those times we hung out in school.”

Taking Malfoy’s (unnecessarily sarcastic) point, he leans back against the workstation with the pot on it and crosses his arms. He watches Malfoy finish washing and when he shuts it off, he turns back towards Harry, drying them on a very clean and soft-looking towel. 

“I’m surprised McGonagall didn’t tell me she’d hired you.”

“What exactly are you doing here, Potter?” he says again, ignoring Harry’s last statement.

“Library,” he says mildly. “Hitting dead-ends at the Ministry one so I thought I’d give it a shot here.”

Malfoy rolls his eyes, which only makes Harry grin. The attitude, far from irritating him as it once had, serves only to amuse him now. Maybe it’s the backdrop of the greenhouse, or the way his hair looks golden in the filtered sunlight, or that fucking dirt on his face.

“Dangerous life as an Auror, is it?”

Harry shrugs, grinning cheekily. “Sometimes.”

He swears he sees Malfoy’s mouth twitch, but he does such a good job covering it up it might have been Harry’s imagination.

There’s silence for a beat; the reality of the years that have passed between then and now feels almost like a tangible presence between them, making the air thick and heavy.

Or maybe that’s just the humidity.

Malfoy lifts an eyebrow.

“You should probably be getting to the library if that’s what you’re here for,” he says finally.

Harry smiles.

“Yeah,” he says. “Probably.” And then, not really sure where he’s getting the bollocks, “D’you wanna get a drink with me tonight at the Three Broomsticks?”

Malfoy blinks at him. “What?” he says blankly

“Well?” Harry presses. “Do you?”

“I —” Malfoy blinks again. His utter bewilderment is as endearing as everything else. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it’d be good to catch up.” Among other things, although he doesn’t mention that. “What d’you say?”

Malfoy stares at him another moment, looking almost suspicious, before finally nodding.

“Sure,” he says. “I’ll meet you there round six.”

“Great.” Harry pushes off the workstation. He can’t help it any longer — he reaches out and uses his thumb to brush away the dirt on Malfoy’s cheek. Malfoy freezes at the touch and Harry sees him swallow. “You missed a spot,” he says by way of explanation, grinning again and pulling back. “See you at six, then.”

“Yeah,” says Malfoy in a distinctly breathless voice. “See you, Potter.”

[rhydium]

fuck it starfinite drabble

its 12pm n i haven't slept, @ the two (2) other fans of these dumbasses come get yall juice ig ???? played around w/ a concept i had n figured i'll just ... post it. why not. this takes place in my android infinite au, pre-relationship!! u don't rly need context other than that tbh ((but feel free to ask me abt it i will gladly infodump))

cw: loss of limb (infinite's arm; it gets reattached), references to blood n stuff in the context of intrusive thoughts. please lmk if i need more!!

×

"what on earth were you thinking?" starline near shouts, his voice exasperated, shaky with adrenaline. he's angry and he's afraid and it's, it's stupid, really, he can fix this, but his hands tremble as he rummages through his toolbox, eyes darting over to infinite; missing their right arm, wires sparking, broken and it's sickening. he has to look away again. breathe.

"you can't keep... you — you're being too reckless!"

"i don't have much other choice." infinite says, so simply, so infuriatingly calm, so calm, such disregard for the fact they just had a limb blown off.

starline finds the last screwdriver he needs, but continues to sift around, poking and prodding and inspecting wrenches as if he's still looking for something. if he stops that means having to face this and he isn't ready — he needs to, but he can't.

"why?" he asks, ignoring the way his voice cracks, swallows the dry lump in his throat, "why, infinite?"

"is it really not obvious?"

starline grits his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut. his hands grip the edge of the box. "no!! it isn't!"

"i can be repaired. rebuilt. you can't. it's not that complicated. if one of us gets hit then logically it should be me."

his chest seizes as the words sink in, sink through his skin and down, down, down into his stomach like a stone; his gut churns and twists with guilt.

no... no, that's —

"that's stupid!" starline hisses. that self-sacrificing, idiotic...!

he whips around, locking eyes with infinite, don't look at their arm, don't look at it, don't look at the socket.

"don't speak like that. ever again."

whether it's his expression, his tone, infinite seems taken aback, almost appearing to flinch. they stare at him, frowning, though in a way more indicative of confusion than anger.

"like what?"

"like you're disposable!!"

...fuck.

there's a long moment of silence after starline's outburst. he pulls in a deep breath, pinches the bridge of his bill, averting his eyes to the floor, anywhere else, anywhere but infinite. he thinks about apologising — he shouldn't have yelled like that — but infinite is, this can't continue, they're being nonsensical, they keep endangering themselves, it can't.

"i... you just don't get it, do you?" he murmurs, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. a small, strained laugh escapes his throat, voice thin. "do you have any idea how it makes me feel, watching you get hurt like this?? throwing yourself around like some kind of — like a living shield??"

he's not going to cry. starline is not about to cry.

"you... could have died." infinite says quietly. "all those times, and today, if i hadn't stepped in — for you those blows would have been life changing, if not fucking fatal. do you know how that makes me feel, star?! i can't let that happen. it's so easy to just, imagine you laying there, not moving, the blood, and..." their fingers — god, the ones they still have — twitch restlessly. infinite picks at their claws.

starline can hardly restrain the choked noise that fights its way out of him.

they're doing this for him, to protect him, this is all his —

"it's not your fault." infinite speaks firmly, as if sensing his thought process. "but objectively..." they wave a hand, sighing, "you know? this doesn't even hurt me."

"it hurts me." starline exhales through his nose wearily. "emotionally."

"i'd rather you be a bit emotionally distressed than dead," infinite scoffs softly, "let me repeat; the damage i take isn't permanent or painful. you, on the other hand, are one accident from being... i don't even want to imagine it."

"then what am i supposed to do?!"

"be more careful and i won't have to get involved." infinite shrugs.

starline groans.

"why does it bother you so much?"

"are you kidding?!"

the lack of response would point toward no, apparently.

"because i care about you, you absolute fool!"

infinite falters for a moment.

"...but. i'm not in pain. i can be fixed. what are you afraid of?"

starline gazes at them wordlessly.

i'm afraid one day i won't be able to fix you.

i'm afraid i'm going to lose you.

i'm terrified of losing you because i love you but you don't know that and you can't know that.

"...star?"

"i — look, forget it. i just, i don't want to talk about this anymore, i need to repair your arm."

"you're hiding something."

"aren't you perceptive..." starline can't help but mutter.

"are you okay?"

does it look like it?

"i'm fine."

"could at least put a little effort into it if you're going to lie." infinite mumbles.

"would you just...!" starline takes a deep breath. "be quiet. please."

infinite briefly opens their mouth as if preparing to protest, but ultimately falls silent. they look away, absently staring off at the far window.

starline grabs his tools. he just... has to focus on work. this will probably take a while, he realises. it's easily the most damage infinite has ever taken — at least during their time with him. he's worked with robotics a long time, but infinite is a highly advanced android, and they require extra care, presicion.

infinite's shoulder sparks again. they don't react.

"...you really don't feel anything, do you?"

infinite raises a brow.

oh. right. i told them not to talk.

they shake their head, and starline nods, uttering a quiet "sorry."

no reply.

"can i... start the repair?"

"...you're not just going to go ahead and do it?"

"no. never. listen, i've made habit of asking for your consent and i have no intention of breaking it. it's your body."

"...i don't mind."

"alright."

starline supresses a sigh and begins to tackle the rather daunting task of fixing up and reattaching infinite's lost arm, which has been laying motionless on the table for the past ten minutes. despite the lack of blood, absence of stench, as would be had if infinite was organic, it's still disturbing somehow. he shivers at the thought of dealing with dismembered flesh, of muscle and bone, and finds himself suddenly a lot more appreciative that infinite is an artificial being.

despite the knowledge infinite can't actually feel any of what he's doing, starline proceeds slowly, gently. regardless of whether they can feel it, their body deserves to be treated with respect. he fiddles with their wires delicately between his fingers, turns bolts and adjusts joints with only as much firmness as necessary, apologises when he has to snap certain supports back into place. now and then, he glances at infinite, who looks oddly tense, contemplative... uncertain.

"are you... uncomfortable?"

"what...? no, i... i told you i can't feel it, didn't i?" they say distantly.

"well — yes, but, what about mentally? are you alright...? do you want me to stop? i'm sorry that these procedures are so... invasive, and it probably, after —"

— no, no, what are you doing don't bring that up —

"...ah. nevermind."

infinite blinks, as if processing his words, and then their expression shifts in understanding.

"you're fine. i mean, this is.... i'm fine." they affirm.

"...okay."

"i mean it. it's... you're nothing like him."

there was once a time starline would have found such a statement insulting. nowadays, he can't be more relieved infinite thinks as such. he adjusts his glasses and continues tinkering away, figuring he won't get much else out of them, at least for now. whatever is on their mind, he'll let it be. the rest of the repair goes smoothly, time passing in a silence that is isn't uncomfortable, nor fully comfortable. he can't help but feel bad about the... was it an argument? he isn't sure, really. maybe that's what infinite was thinking about...?

as he wraps things up, closing the last panel on their forearm and preparing to request that infinite run through a few tests to make sure everything is working correctly, they finally speak; though it isn't anything starline was expecting them to say.

"you could destroy me," infinite utters softly, and they just kind of... look at him, something in their eyes that starline can't put a name to. "if you wanted to. you could rip me apart from the inside."

"i... guess i could." starline murmurs, his fingers lightly trailing over the panel, hidden beneath infinite's fur, the only sign of its existence being several small ridges and the bump of a screw head. "does that scare you?"

infinite smiles. "it's terrifying." they reply. "to allow myself to be so vulnerable... to — to want to let my guard down."

starline blinks in surprise.

to want to...? they want to let me in?

"then why...?" he tilts his head curiously. his hand stills, but lingers where it is.

infinite shrugs loosely. "it's you."

oh.

starline, don't you even think about it, that isn't what they mean...!

he clears his throat awkwardly.

"er... is that... supposed to explain it?"

"it's all i've got." infinite replies. the small quirk of their lips broadens a bit, and they chuckle. "sorry."

...starline finds himself smiling back.

god, he's tired, the past hour has been immeasurably draining, but... this, this makes it all worth it. seeing them like that... it lifts all the stress, the anxiety. he feels lighter.

"thank you."

"huh?"

"for trusting me. i know it... must take a lot."

infinite shifts their hand — the one that hadn't been damaged — and hesitantly, very slowly reaches over. they look between starline's hand still resting on their inner arm, just above the wrist, starline's eyes, his hand again, and starline goes to withdraw — but before he can do so, infinite places their own over it.

"thank you." they whisper. "for treating me kindly. for treating me like... a person."

starline's breath catches in his throat. oh god, he cannot mess this up. infinite never — they never initiate contact like this, ever. he can't scare them away, he knows it's difficult for them to be touched, let alone how much faith they're showing in him to touch, and he will not squander all their progress. nothing will ruin this moment.

"you are one."

"...i care about you too, star."

"i — what?"

"you said earlier that you cared about me. i care about you too," they elaborate, a flicker in their eyes, this time something starline recognises, as quickly as it's hidden again; fondness. a very specific kind of fondness that... no — he isn't sure if he's imagining this or not. he has to be. surely, he's making it up. wishful thinking, seeing what one wants to.

"...a lot. more than you know." infinite finishes.

starline gazes into their eyes steadily, searching, trying to find it again. infinite stares back, almost like they're looking for something, too. oh, how easy it would be; to lean down, move in, to kiss them, but starline is not going there. he has no confirmation infinite likes him like, well, that and, it would be far too fast even if they did. not to mention he certainly wouldn't do it without asking.

"...you're hiding something too, aren't you?" starline settles for asking vaguely.

infinite's eyes widen slightly, then glitter mysteriously, amused.

"aren't you perceptive?"

[timep3tals]

You asked for short iron dad drabbles, so heres an idea for one! During a mission Peter and Tony's suits are wrecked (EMP or something of your choice) before they defeat their opponent. Tony and Peter have to rely solely on Peter's spider strength and senses to survive.

thank you for the ask! sorry it took me a small ETERNITY to write it out, but... it’s finally done! fair warning for LANGUAGE tony has a potty mouth whoops. (also i actually rly like this one so i hope you guys do, too.)

Tony had felt helpless before.

He had felt helpless when Pepper fell to her doom feet away from Tony’s outstretched hand. He had felt helpless when Rhodey came crashing down to Earth, too far to reach. He had felt helpless when he received a call that his plane had crashed and the kid had been on the damn plane when it went down.

Always too far; never fast enough. Tony built suits for speed, but he could never seem to catch up to tragedy.

He had felt helpless when he sent a nuke out into the frozen depths of space and stared at what Tony knew would one day spell their doom.

(It didn’t end up being their doom; they were down a few faces in the compound, but the world survived, and the threat was finally, finally gone. The demons that lingered in his closet had been killed, and he could rest. Tony wasn’t sure he knew how to rest.)

None of that seemed to compare to this moment. Peter was inching ahead of him, silent save for the occasional hiss of air in and out of his lungs that barely reached Tony’s ears. The kid was on high alert, the hair on his arms visibly raised as they snuck through the compound where they were being held.

They’d been hit with a fucking EMP, and a pretty jacked up one at that, because it had managed to fry Tony’s suits. FRIDAY had sputtered out of commission, barely managing to eject his ass out into the open air before the suit cratered the Earth and Peter had launched himself off the ground through sheer fucking force to catch him before he plummeted. 

These morons surrounded him and Tony was seething, teeth grit as they pointed guns at his kid, and he didn’t even get the opportunity to blast their faces in because his damn suit was out of commission. He was stubbornly useless as Peter gave into their demands to back off and wished looks could kill because then at least these assholes would drop dead from his glares.

It wasn’t as though they were entirely left out in the cold, though. Sure, Peter’s suit was also trashed and they couldn’t call for help, but the team knew where they were. Tony had long since sent out a distress signal, but it was just a waiting game until the others arrived, held up by the front lines of the fighters.

And, until then, they could rely on Peter’s spider-ness to remove the enemy’s bargaining chip. Once they’d turned enough eyes (and guns) off them, Peter had launched himself forward, taking down the enemies at a speed that was dizzying to watch.

They didn’t have time to scream before they were unconscious on the cold floor.

Tony would be impressed if he wasn’t too busy fighting back frustrated word-vomits.

Peter had grown so much, but it should be Tony getting them out of this situation. A fucking adult at least, not a seventeen year old who had too much to do with life than worry about getting Tony’s useless ass out of yet another prison.

“Stop,” Peter hissed, suddenly, pressing Tony back against the wall without even looking back. His arm was like steel and Tony grit his teeth so hard his ears rang. “There’s two ahead. I’m gonna take them out.”

“Careful, kid,” he reminded him, though it was pointless. Peter was already moving forward, crawling up onto the ceiling. Tony slammed his head back against the wall when he heard the sound of a muffled fight, relishing in the swirl of his eyes, before Peter reappeared and waved him on.

The cycle repeated and by the time the sun touched their skin, Tony was fighting a scream that was tearing his throat raw. Peter had done fucking fantastic, of course he had, Tony had expected no less, but it was so... so...

“There are the others,” Peter said, pointing towards the horizon where the others were jogging towards them, late, too goddamn late. What was the point of having backup if Peter ended up having to do all the work anyway? “Hey! Over here!”

“About time,” Tony snapped when the others got within range. Natasha smiled, small and wry, and he wanted to rip it off her face. Doesn’t she get it? “Thanks for coming so fast! Really, great help.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter grumbled at his sharp tone. Tony ignored him. Teenagers didn’t get to be the ones lecturing him on his attitude.

He’ll be angry and bitter and annoyed and useless all he wants, thank you very much.

“Should’ve watched out for an EMP, if you’re gonna be so pissy about our response time when we’re fighting a few hundred guys,” Natasha said. “The hell crawled up your ass and died?”

“God, I fucking wonder. Maybe the fact the kid had to get us out, while I did fuckall.” Tony ran a frustrated, shaking hand through his hair and looked to the sky. One... two... three... counting was fuckin’ boring, and he still wanted to scream. “The Quinjet here already? Great, I’m leaving. Come on, kid, the others will take care of the cleanup.”

Peter hurried to follow when Tony took off, sending worried glances that burned on Tony’s skin.

“Kid, look,” he said, determinedly not looking at said kid, unable to see the damn understanding or pity or whatever the fuck was on Peter’s face. He just couldn’t see it. It would cause the mass of emotions all tangled up in his chest like a wildfire to explode, and he couldn’t.

Not until he was alone and buried in the smell of motor oil, hidden in the recesses of his workshop.

“You did good. Fuckin’ great. I just hated being the one having to rely on you. I’m the one supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around, and it just. Really pisses me off that I was so useless today.”

Peter was quiet, then, “That’s a bunch of horseshit, Mr. Stark.”

“Excuse me?”

Tony managed a baffled glance at Peter, who shrugged.

“I mean, like, we’re both heroes. You rely on the Avengers. Why is it so bad to rely on me sometimes, too? Don’t you think I’m ever frustrated by how much you help me out? I want to protect people, and that includes you. So just shut up and take my help sometimes. It wasn’t even that dangerous today.”

Fuck, this kid. Tony turned away, biting viciously on his cheek to hide the smile that erupted across his face, unbidden. Damn this little asshole for making him feel better. Why couldn’t he just let Tony sulk?

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in my face kid. You’re so very talented with your sticky hands.”

“Mr. Stark, that sounds disgusting.”

“Jesus, I didn’t mean it like that. Where the hell is your head?”

Peter just laughed.

Tag List @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @just-the-daydreamer @serendipity--goddess @tony-wheres-my-supersuit @baloobird @fourdaysofrain @swagfictonreadingnerd  @josywbu @as-clear-as-crystal @an-adventureland @hannah-emily-zhang @spideynamu @spideygirl2003 @fleur-dw @stark-genius @ifyoucanreadmymindthenimsorry @rain-brown @supernoetta @aelinasardothien @jaedray @snazzy-jas-z-is-a-fan-of @drowned-in-books @ditzy-daydreamer1 @emsxworld @starkfridays @avenging-criminal-bones @myyszka @stark-tony @ardenskyedarcy221b @emmaelsa0000 @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @littlemissagrafina @joyful-soul-collector @hold-our-destiny @bringitonvoldie (Lmk if you want to be added/removed! Sorry if yours doesn’t work idk man.)

[1oserjk]

— my baggage n urs

an emotional breakdown ft. ur boyfriend, jjk 

x masterlist

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

“When are you gonna go back home?” 

You, on Jungkook’s bed, only glare back. He still sits there, unfazed, sitting on the edge facing his television and console, playing whatever game that was distracting him from the conversation he started. He figured it would be too early to talk about it with you, but it was worth a try. 

It was only your second day staying at his place and the first day you were actually willing to talk, even if it was just a few words, it was enough for him. You’d open up eventually.

He ends up dying in the next minute — very disappointed in himself, but it was fine, he had to have a long talk with you anyway.

He tosses the game controller to the side of him and he leans back, right on your hip where you laid. You grunt in disapproval, nevertheless taking him in and subconsciously running your fingers through his soft curls. 

“You know I’ll always love you staying with me but,” he cranes his neck to get an eye of you. You sit there, staring off into whatever caught your own, distracting yourself from the actual problem at hand. Your eyes turn teary, but you don't dare let them fall. You figured if you cried again, you’d be seen as dramatic, or even worse, a stupid naive little girl. “But it’s your family, _____.” He whispers and your lip quivers. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you manage to spit out. “I’m not taken seriously there.” 

He only nods, unsure if what he would say would tip you off. 

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly say. His head thumps down when you begin to climb off of his bed and then he starts to panic when he sees you packing up whatever you came with. No. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. “I shouldn’t have come. You’re probably sick and tired of me by now,” you laugh out. Like it was a joke. A big joke. 

“Never,” he argues, making a move to come near you, but you decline it, swiftly moving across the room until you were close to the door. “I’m such a fuck-up Jungkook, it’s crazy,” you sputter out in disbelief. “I-I wish for once I could do something right.” You let the tears fall, and from the few steps away between the both of you, he’s never seen such a broken image. You were so fucking sad and it ate at his chest. He didn’t know what to do, but to watch you shatter yourself into a million pieces. 

“I’m always doing the wrong thing and it fucking sucks, I’m too much to handle and I-I get it if you went to seperate from here and if you’re tired of having all of this weight on you. Fuck, I’d be too.” You heave and hiccup, and his eyes well up too. Whatever happened, broke you to self destruct until there was no more left. You were too far gone and you were close enough for your head to explode right in front of him. 

“I’m tired Jungkook,” you admit. “I’m so tired of trying to prove myself to these people only for it to pummel down on me.” Your head shakes vigorously. “I’m so useless,” you sob. It was his turn to disagree, taking a step closer. “Baby,” he calls out. You only hiccup more and more, until it was becoming harder for you to breathe. He calls out your name instead. Nothing. 

He gives one final try to reach out, tugging at your elbow to fall back onto him, and you do. He wasn’t sure if he could’ve handled you pulling back from him. 

His arms sweep down until their holding your hips steady against him. You weakly push at his chest, not strong enough for him to fully go away. So you sit there, and cry and cry.

“Don’t you ever fucking apologize,” he warns, breathing into your hair steadily. “You did nothing wrong.” 

“I did everything wrong,” you argue. He tilts your chin forward, “Look at me.” Mustering up whatever energy you had left, you lock sight with your boyfriend who didn’t deserve so much of your baggage. Still, it was hard to figure out why he stayed throughout your problems. He only answered that he loved you so much to do so. But how could he love someone so broken?

Both his hands go to cradle both of your cheeks. If he had to say it over and over again for you to realize that you did nothing wrong, he would. Seeing you in this state made him want to crush everything that was in your way, but he knew how impossible it would be to do so, so he’d hold your hand and guide you through it — even if he had no fucking clue what the next step was, you both would get through it, together. 

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

woah, it got rly emotional at the end n i’m sry! but i made this months and months ago when i was in self obliteration :] 

this is a drabble where we collectively all go “thank god we have jungkook” because fictionally or not, I appreciate him dearly even if he is not actually here to coax me through my breakdowns 

also, i wanted to personally thank anybody and everybody who are actually reading these n choosing to follow me like wtF its crzy to me!!!1! 

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

[jungshookz]

ceo!yoongi - the wedding

→ pairing: min yoongi x reader

→ genre: ceo!au, the fluffiest fluff, humour, you look like a pRINCESS, a lil bit of n s f w, jungkook is a brat no surprise there

→ wordcount: 7.7k

→ notes: it’s hERE the big day!!!!!! i’m so happy that you guys like ceo!yoongi you blew my expectations for the response to this fic out of the water!!!! i had,,, such a good time writing this i fckin love weddings as you can tell i got a little carried away because this ‘“”””drabble”””’’ is nearly 8000 words long?? whoops ALSO i used google translate for the korean part so,,,,,,, if it’s not an accurate translation please don’t come for me i am SORRY 

if u wanna ask yoongs or y/n anything u know what to do ;-)

you’re getting married to min yoongi today. holy shit. 

(gif isn’t mine!) 

(((and the read more function iS there but most of the time it doesn’t work on mobile :// i am sorry don’t attack me by sending passive-aggressive anon messages)))

you’ve never felt more like a princess than in this moment

“not half bad” you mutter to yourself, turning a little and checking yourself out in the mirror

your gown is beaUtiful you got it custom made and everything and it even came with a VEIL

“oh my god,,,, i’m going to cry” jimin appears behind you in the mirror and he presses a hand to his chest “you don’t even look like yourself whERE are your mismatched socks”

“i couldn’t find a pair of socks to go with the heels” you joke and turn your head a little but the makeup artists turns your head back so she can dab a little more lipstick on your lips

yoongi hired like a miLLion stylists because he didn’t trust jimin to do your makeup and hair (and tbh jimin doesn’t trust himself to do your makeup and hair either lol)

a minute goes by before she decides you’re good to go but she fixes your veil a little and then dusts some glittery powered on your exposed chest and your shoulders

wow

you really are a disney princess now

“could you guys give us a second?” you give the many stylists a polite smile and they all agree and eventually file out of the room

you lift the dress up a little so you can step off the mini podium and jimin immediately rushes over to grab onto your shoulders

“…you’RE GETTING MARRIED TODAY”

“…I’M GETTING MARRIED TODAY”

“i can’t believe you’re getting married before me”

“i know!!! crazy stuff” you smile

“i’m so happy for you” jimin sniffles and you coo before leaning in to give him a hug but he stops you before you can hug him and you pull away clearly hurt

“you’re going to get glitter all over my suit and i dO not want that” but he leans in to kiss your cheek very very gently

“i miss yoongi” you pout and turn to look at yourself in the mirror (wat u look rly good okay)

you haven’t seen yoongi in like 24 hours because both of you had your bachelorette/bachelor parties and then it’s the whole ‘the bride and groom can’t see each other before the wedding’ thing so you and yoongi had your own hotel rooms :-(

of course jimin shared a room with you so it wasn’t that bad

“yoongi looks really good in his suit” jimin grins and stands next to you in the mirror “just to let you know”

“i-“ suddenly your phone vibrates on the table and you click-clack over in your heels to grab it

your face immediately lights up in a smile when you see who’s calling

“hey boss” you pick up the call and you hear yoongi’s raspy laugh on the other end

“hi, baby.”

“i miss u”

“i miss you too. i can’t wait to see you.”

you glance over your shoulder and jimin’s preoccupied with fixing the rose in his suit pocket

“i’m wearing the thigh garters and the lacy white panties you bought for me under my dress” you lower your voice a little so jimin can’t hear you

“oh yeah? quit trying to lure me out of my room - you’re the one who said we weren��t allowed to see each other” yoongi teases

you hear some commotion from yoongi’s end and you check the time on the clock

yep

it’s time

“i think that’s my cue. i’ll see you soon. i love you.”

“love you more” you whisper and then yoongi hangs up and you put your phone on the table

“i can’t believe you’re making me walk down the aisle with jungkook” jimin grumbles and fixes a strand of his hair

“we didn’t have enough bridesmaids!!” you giggle and jimin rolls his eyes before giving you a quick hug and another kiss on the cheek

“i’ll see you out there?” he raises his fist and you fist bump him gently and nod

once jimin leaves a second later your parents enter the room and your mom coos at how gorgeous her daughter looks on this wonderful day

“look at you!” she gasps and wraps you up in a hug and you laugh lightly

“never thought i’d see the day where you actually put in effort with how you look” your dad jokes and your mom smacks his arm in warning “you ready, champ?”

“as ready as i’ll ever be” you grab your bouquet off the chair and link arms with your mom

it’s only once you’re standing in front of the closed double doors that you realise you are noT as ready as you’ll ever be

your heart is going like a million miles per hour

and you didn’t think it would happen to you

but you have cold feet

what if you’re too young to get married?

maybe you and yoongi are diving into this relationship too quickly

like you’ve only been dating a couple months and that iS a pretty short time to date and then suddenly decide to get married

what if you turn into those couples who get married young and then eventually the spark disappears from the marriage and you guys turn into a bitter old couple stuck with each other forever

oh god

if you and yoongi divorce you’ll have to find another job and you don’t wANT to find another job

there was an opening at the damn sandwich station

you don’t want to spend the rest of your life making sandwiches with too much mayo and too little tuRKEY

you don’t want to be a LISA

lol shady

oH GOD

you are 110% not prepared when the wooden doors open slowly  

but the first thing you see is yoongi waiting for you at the end of the aisle

and oH

he looks so handsome in his crisp tux

and he has a red rose in his suit pocket

his hair is styled perfectly and he’s positively glowing

the venue itself is gorgeous too

fairy lights twinkling everywhere the rose gold and white go reaLLy well together 

the lights are the perfect level of dim and everything just looks so romantic and well put together 

everything is perfect

and this is the part where you’re supposed to start walking

…

okay

thIS is the part where you’re supposed to start walking

…

okay nOW

…

…

uh-oh

your feet feel like they’ve been glued to the ground and everyone’s just… staring at you

“you okay, honey?” your mom nudges your side gently and you’re snapped out of your thoughts

your mouth is all dry and you can’t open your mouth to say anything but you nod quickly

your heart is like exploding in your chest

of course your mother knows best and she can tell you’re like suPer nervous

“you know, i was pretty nervous before my wedding too.”

you immediately turn to look at her and you’re like …go on

“i thought i was too young to be getting married. thought i was ruining my life. i had so many things i wanted to do, so many things i wanted to see, and i thought getting married was going to hold me back. but… i loved your father so, so much. all those things that i wanted to do and all the things i wanted to see? i ended up doing those things with him right by my side. it’s your wedding - of course you’re nervous. but tell me - you see that man at the end of the aisle?”

you turn to look at yoongi and he’s staring at you with worry in his eyes because you stILL haven’t started walking and the crowd is getting a little antsy

“do you love him?”

“of course i love yoongi” you breathe out

you love yoongi with your entire heart

you love how sweet and caring he is like when you stay late with him and end up falling asleep at your desk and you always wake up with yoongi’s suit jacket around you to keep you warm

sometimes he carries you to the car and he’s sO gentle with you to make sure he doesn’t wake you up

you love how thoughtful he is like when he knows you’re having a bad day and surprises you with cookies or a pint of ice cream even though that’s the last thing he wants you to eat

you love how considerate he is like when you tell him an awful joke and he laughs anyway even though you’re like the least funny person in the entire world

and hello?? he’s so snuggly in the morning you loVe that

you love min yoongi.

“and you want to marry him?”

“more than anything else in the entire world”

“then what’s the problem?”

“...i don’t wanna trip down the aisle” you squeak out and your dad stifles a laugh before patting your arm gently

“c’mon, y/n. can’t keep your fiancé waiting.”

there seems to be this collective sense of relief in the crowd when you start walking and jimin reaches up to dab the bead of sweat lining his forehead before shooting yoongi a thumbs up

both you and yoongi are just staring at each other as you make your way down the aisle and yoongi can’t help but think about how fuckign lucky he is to be marrying you

you give your parents a hug and a kiss before they’re handing you over to yoongi

you wobble a little on your heels but yoongi grabs your hand before you can topple over thAnk god

yoongi lifts the veil up over your head and his heart flutters when he sees you smiling at him with rosy cheeks

“hi” you whisper quietly and yoongi smiles in response before brushing some of your hair back

the crowd takes a second to settle in and yoongi takes advantage of the rustling

“hi. you okay?”

you nod quickly and squeeze his hand “i love you”

his cheeks immediately warm and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips “love you more”

the two of you turn to face the priest

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of min yoongi and y/n y/l/n…”

the priest goes on and on and the entire time you and yoongs are just staring at each other and giving each other knowing looks like ‘good god, this is boring’

yoongi pinches your hand hard when it looks like you’re about to let out a yawn and you quickly suppress it when he gives you a warning look

finally it’s time to exchange vows and noW you know what you forgot this morning

your cue cards

you were never really good at improvisation so this… is going to be interesting

luckily the priest invites yoongi to go first so that gives you some time to come up with soMEthing  

“y/n. when we first met, i have to be honest - i did not like you. like at all.”

wow

it doesn’t get much better than that lol

“whA-“

“you insulted me in the elevator, you spilt coffee all over me, you kept forgetting to remind me when my meetings were scheduled, you nEver threw away your cookie wrappers-“

“okAy i think we get it” you scowl and everyone in the audience can’t help but laugh

how the hell are you getting roasted even at your own damn weDDing

yoongi smiles and squeezes your hand

“but even after all of this, somehow, someway, i fell in love with you.  i fell in love with the way you stumbled into my office every morning with a half-ass made cup of coffee, the way you were willing to stay late with me even though i know you would much rather go home and watch TV, the way your face lights up whenever i bought cookies for you... i knew you were the one for me the night that we kissed, and i wouldn’t want to have anyone else in the world help me tie my ties. y/n y/l/n, i loved you then, i love you now, and i’ll love you forever.”

aW that’s so cUTE you didn’t know yoongi had it in himself to say something that cheesy without puking

“i actually left my cue cards in the office. so. there’s that.” you clear your throat and give yoongi an apologetic look “i…” for a second you blank because you actually forgot what you had planned to say

bits and pieces are coming back to you but daNg it you spent like a week’s worth of lunch breaks writing them out

“yoongi. i also wasn’t a huge fan of you when we first met. no matter what i did, you’d always give me a look of disappointment and scold me for being a bad secretary. all i know is…”

fuck it

time to improvise

you clear your throat and stand up a little straighter

“all i know is that you’re the one i want to spend the rest of my life with. your beauty, heart, and mind inspire me to be the best person i can be. i feel truly blessed that out of all the people in the world - you chose me. you chose me, and i get to share my life with you, and you’ve chosen to share yours with me. you make me happier than i ever could imagine and more loved than i ever thought possible.” you clear your throat because you feel a lil lump growing in there

you’re not usually this emotional but

there’s just something about weddings

“…min yoongi, you are my person. you are my love and my life - today, and always.”

everyone bursts into applause when you finish and you can’t help but feel a sense of pride because everyone’s tearing up and also yOONgi’s eyes are gLASSY

and yoongi nEVer cries

and now it’s time to make it ~official~

“Min Yoongi. Do you take Y/N Y/L/N as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?”

yoongi’s never been so sure of anything in his entire life

“I do.” he slips a ring onto your trembling hand and you try your best to calm your nerves but you’re just sO happy

“Y/N Y/L/N. Do you take Min Yoongi as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or-“

“yES i dO” you reply a little too enthusiastically and the crowd bursts into a murmur of giggles

the priest smiles before gesturing for you to slip the ring onto yoongi’s finger

and…

“i now pronounce you man and wife. you may now kiss the bride.” yoongi immediately swoops down and plants his lips on yours and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck when he places his hands on your hips to pull you closer

everyone’s cheering around you but all you can focus on is yoongi

it feels like you guys are the only ones in the room

“aLright you two save it for the honeymoon” jimin smacks you with your bouquet and you blush before pulling away but you still cling to yoongi

“i love you” you beam and yoongi leans down to give you another kiss

“love you more”

you and yoongi are all over each other at the reception

not like thAT but like in a more romantic lovey dove ooey gooey way

“we’re married” you giggle and nuzzle against yoongi’s neck and he reaches over to yank your chair closer to him

“we’re married” he repeats and holds your hand out so he can look at the twinkling ring on your finger

you pull away and look at him

“i made you cry”

“you did no such thing”

“i maDE you tear up” you tease and jab at his chest and yoongi swats your hand away

“there was dust in my eyes”

“there was nO dust anywh-“

clink clink clink

jimin’s suddenly standing up from his seat next to you and he’s clinking the side of his flute of champagne

“everyone! i’d like to make a toast.”

you turn your attention to jimin and woW your best friend looks especially handsome tonight!!!!

this lighting makes his skin look greAT

“first of all - congratulations to the newlyweds.” everyone applauds you and yoongi and the two of you give nods and smiles of acknowledgements “y/n and i have been friends for as long as i can remember. i’ve always been the one y/n goes to in times of need, i’ve always been her pizza/movie night buddy… but everything’s different now. boss, please take care of my girl for me, okay?”

“of course i will.” yoongi nods and you push your bottom lip out in a pout when you see jimin’s eyes glimmering

omg

your eyes are getting watery too

“okay. that’s all i have to say.” jimin’s voice wavers and then he sets down the microphone and you immediately get up and coo and wrap your best friend up in a big fat hUG

“mY babY!!!!!” you sniffle and press a kiss to jimin’s cheek and basically cling to him and you and jimin are off in your own little world and yoongi’s like ahEm i am your husband pls pay attention to me

“i wanna make a toast too!!!!” jungkook stands up and nearly knocks his chair over

clink clink CLONK

he clinks the side of his flute and it immediately shatters into a trillion pieces

“whoops” he blinks down at the shards of glass and then sets his flute down and picks up the microphone

“i’d just like to let everyone know that y/n herself said that if yoongi wasn’t in the picture she would’ve definitely ended up with me. yoongi - i can still steal your girl, so don’t piss me off”

“excuse me?” yoongi’s glare immediately makes the smile drop from jungkook’s face

in that moment he knew he fucked up

“nothingi’msorrysir”

so yeah everyone’s having a pretty good time

you break away from all the socialising to get yourself a drink

and the next thing you know you’re hearing jungkook over the loudspeakers and you’re like oh nO what is this punk what up to

“everyone! please help me welcome mr and mrs min for their first official dance as a married couple!”

o god

o gOD you forgot the first dance was a thing

obviously you like the part where you dance with yoongi but not the part where everyone like staRes at you dancing with yoongi

yoongi knows how much you hate crowds buT also he wants to show you off as his wife so u better get ur ass over here or he’ll literally drag you over

you end up getting nudged back to the dance floor by everyone and you whine quietly when yoongi takes your hand and pulls you in

“this is so embarrassing” you groan and yoongi laughs before wrapping his arms around your waist

“only you would be embarrassed at your own damn wedding”

you peek over yoongi’s shoulders and see literally evERyone staring at you and your cheeks flush instantly

“hey, look at me. it’s just you and me, hm?” yoongi presses his forehead against yours and you crinkle your nose in responsethe two of you dance for a little while longer and you want to stay in the moment forever because yoongi’s whispering sweet nothings in your ear and you are just so so SO in love with him

he has his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and your arms are dangling loosely around your waist

occasionally he’ll swoop down to give you a small kiss but he keeps it PG because you do have an audience after all and he’s not about to make out with you in front of ur parents lol

finaLLy the slow song switches back to a pop song and everyone floods the dance floor once again and you’re like phEw but also kinda bummed out at the same time because you wanted to slow dance with ur mans for a little while longer you felt like you were at prom lol

cutting the cake had to be the most fun part because you got to smash it into yoongi’s face

“y/n, i swear to god, this suit was sO expensive if you get onE dollop of cream-“ yoongi doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because you’re suddenly pushing the slice of cake right into his face and everyone bursts into laughter at the sight

yoongi staggers back and is like :0000000!!!!!!!!!! and he wipes the chunks of cake off his face and off his precious suit before glaring at you and you’re like uh-oh

and then you realise he’s not actually mad because he’s lunging for you grabbing your face and pulling you in for a FAT kiss

you squeal because cake is getting all over your face but you kiss yoongi back anyway and giggle against his lips

and of course yoongi gets his revenge because he digs his gruBBy hand into the cake and you’re like N O   W A IT

anyways you end up getting cake all over your chest and yoongi gets it all over his suit but you both clean up to the best of your abilities

the party finALLY gets started and all you have to say is that your friends and family get wild sOoo quickly

everyone here has obviously taken advantage of the endless cocktails

people are jamming out on the dance floor

some people are enjoying drinks by the bar

jimin dragged yoongi off somewhere so you’ve kind of just been hopping from table to table thanking people for coming

“joon you look so handsome tonight!!!! thank u for coming!!” you bend down and wrap an arm around him to give him a hug from behind before pinching his cheek and sitting down in the empty seat next to him

“of course i had to come to my favourite coffee-thief’s wedding” he teases and takes a sip of his champagne “also this champagne is like reALLy good”

“right??? it’s the really bougie stuff i almost picked the one with real gold flakes in it but i resisted because i don’t want to completely destroy yoongi’s wallet”

the two of you end up chatting for a little while longer before suddenly jimin appears out of nowhere and drags you out of your chair

“wOah where are you taking me???” before you know it you’re being plopped down on a chair in the middle of the rOOm and there’s a crowd around you

and when you turn to face the front you see your husband walking over to you

you immEdiately feel warmth ziP down to your nether regions

he’s taken off his suit jacket and his tie and he’s unbuttoned a couple buttons on his shirt anD he has his sleeves rolled up and holy shit did it suddenly just get warm in here or what

you can tell he’s a little tipsy because he has a lazy smirk on his face and his eyes are kind of cloudy

“hi baby” yoongi cups your jaw before bending down and pressing his lips against yours

he tastes faintly of beer and mint

“how much did jimin give you to drink?” you giggle and push at his chest gently then watch as he drops to his knees in front of you

and the way he looks up at you with dark eyes makes your insides melt

it takes a second for you to realise what’s actually happening

the thigh garter

the crowd goes wild when yoongi’s head suddenly disappears under your dress and you feel his hands grip at your knees before pushing them apart so he can wiggle himself in between them

“yOongi!” you gasp quietly when you feel him nip at your inner thigh

he’s definitely noT supposed to go this far up

your face is on fire at this point but yoongi’s having the time of his life and everyone else seems to be into it

you feel him press a trail of warm kisses from the inside of your knee all the way to your inner thigh

and then he’s taking your garter in between his teeth and slowly pulling it down your leg

a bunch of cheers and whoops echo around the room when yoongi crawls out from under your dress with the lacy garter in his mouth

he smirks up at you and your cheeks heat up and you quickly shuT your legs

he ruffles his hair quickly to fix it before getting up off his knees and immediately tossing the garter into the eager crowd of mEN

you’re not surprised that jimin is the one who catches it (he shoved like three other guys out of the way) and you’re like alREADY planning his bachelor party for him in your head

yoongi’s like the last person you think of when you think of ’dance floor’ so when he suddenly drags you towards it while you’re in the middle of getting another glass of champagne you’re like genuinely shook

jungkook and jimin and all ya friends are all bopping on the dance floor and you feel yoongi grab your wrist before he’s twirling you around in a circle

you stumble into his chest and giggle before wrapping your arms around his neck loosely

“what has gotten into you!!!!” you’re not complaining at all you’re a huGE fan of this loosey-goosey yoongi

“i’m just really happy that’s all” he murmurs and leans down a little to give you a kiss

“yeah? you’re just really happy?” you giggle when yoongi abandons your lips and instead decides to begin planting kisses down your neck before biting down playfully on your shoulder

“i think we should go and consummate our marriage as soon as possible” yoongi purrs into your ear as he sways the two of you back and forth “our suite is ready for us”

the whole thigh garter thing put him in a certain mood

“we can’t just leave our own party” as muCh as you want to leave it would just be rude!!

“it’s not like anyone’s going to notice with jungkook dancing on the bar like a madman” you look over and sure enough there’s jungkook jumping up and down on the bar while the poor bartender’s just trying to do his job

of course

because he’s min frickin yoongi

a Professional Businessman Who Is Good At Convincing People To Do Things For Him

he convinces you to leave your own damn party

the two of you manage to sneak out but not before jimin rushes over with yoongi’s suit jacket and tie and your phone and tells the two of you to have fun wink wonk

yoongi slips into his suit jacket and leaves his tie hanging around his neck and then he’s grabbing your hand and the two of you are slipping out the back door

and now it’s just the sound of your heels and yoongi’s dress shoes clicking against the marble floor while the two of you practically sprint down the hallway in a fit of giggles

“can’t you move any faster?? you’re wasting my time here woman” yoongi groans playfully and you’re like this dress is like fiVe pounds and these heels are like six inches what do you expect me to dO

“take your heels off then”

“u know what that is a very good idea yoongs” you bend down and step out of your heels before picking them up

and the next thing you know you’re being swept off your feet and thrown over yoongi’s shoulder like a sack of damn potatoes

“jEsUs-“ you shriek in surprise and yoongi smacks your bum over your dress as he walks the two of you into the elevator “u know there are more romantic versions of doing this”

you’re getting red from all the blood rushing to your head and yoongi chuckles before bending over to let you get back onto your feet

“alright, fine. i’ll try to be more romantic just for you.” yoongi grabs your arm and wraps it around his neck before he’s lifting you up and carrying you bridal style just like how u wanted

you coo and lean in to kiss his cheek before you’re holding your left hand out and admiring the glimmering wedding ring on your finger

“i’m married” you beam and watch the ring reflect under the light

“wow, me too. what a coincidence!” yoongi replies sarcastically and you pinch his cheek before taking the room key out of his breast pocket

yoongi lets you back down onto your feet after the elevator door opens and he’s not surprised that the first thing you do is basically scream rACE U TO THE ROOM and you zip down the hall

yoongi laughs when he sees you stumble a little and then chases after you

unsurprisingly he catches up to you right as you reach the doors

it’s hard to unlock the door to the suite with yoongi nipping at your shoulder and very subtly grinding into your bum and you giggle and swat his wandering hands away before finally pushing the door open and wOW

how did they fit a damn chandelier in here??

your heels fall to the floor with a clatter and you walk in even further and there’s a golden cart sitting by the couch with chocolate covered strawberries and champagne with goLD flakes in them and um??? ARE THOSE

ARE THOSE YOUR VENDING MACHINE COOKIES

you gasp and nearly trip over your dress as you stumble over to the cart and yoongi’s like i should’ve hID the food cart damnit because it’s pretty obvious you’re not in the fuck me mood you’re in the fuck me uP WITH THIS FOOD mood

you plop down on the couch and it bounces underneath your weight and yoongi can’t help but laugh because you’re like drowning in your dress you kinda look like a cupcake

he sits down next to you and pulls the food cart towards him

“what a perfect way to end the night” you sigh happily and yoongi turns and is like what do u mean end the night pls tell me we’re not ending our night like thIS

you reach over to nab a cookie while yoongi pops the cork off the champagne

some of it flows out from the top and yoongi shakes it off his hand before pouring some into the two flutes

he hands you a glass and you take a sip and your eyes roll to the back of your head because that is sO good

you watch yoongi underneath the dim light of the chandelier and watch as his adam’s apple bobs after he takes a sip

fuck

he looks good

you snap yourself out of it and your attention turns to the food

“gimme a strawberry” you poke yoongi’s side before shuffling a little closer to your husband

yoongi rolls his eyes playfully and sets his flute down before bending forward a little and choosing the biggest strawberry for you

“here you go, you big baby” you giggle and as yoongi raises the strawberry to your mouth  

you take a bite of it and he pops the other half into his mouth

he raises his hand and his fingertips are stained with melted chocolate and he turns to look for a napkin because he is not about to stain his suit with chocolate

and what he’s definitely nOt expecting is for you to take his hand and bring it to your mouth

o,,,,,oh m,.,my

you wrap your lips around yoongi’s pointer finger and pull away with a pop

and then you’re taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking gently before you pull away and wipe the corner of your mouth and yoongi swallows thickly

“there you go, all clean” you murmur shyly and that,,,, was.,.,. the hottest thing he thinks he’s ever seen in his entire life “gimme another one”

yoongi raises another one to your mouth and when you go to bite it he pulls it away and smirks

you see the playful glint in his eyes and you go for the bite again and he pulls it away aGain

“yoongi!!!” you whine and pout and yoongi grins at you with his gummy smile and cocks his head

“what? come and get it” yoongi holds the berry in between his teeth and points to it and you immediately scramble over to take a bite

before you get the chance to do that yoongi spits the berry out quickly so you end up kissing him instead

and you could technically pull away and grab a berry from the plate yourself but like

making out with yoongi is always nice

“that was sneaky” you mutter into the kiss and yoongi hums in response

his hands are starting to wander

you feel one hand disappear under your dress and the other moves to your back to tug at the zipper of the dress

you jump when you feel yoongi’s hand give your ass a good squeeze and dang now your dress is fully unzipped and is starting to slide off your shoulders

“waiT wait” you pant and push yourself away from yoongi

“what’s the matter?”

“i wanna go to the bedroom i’m not letting u fuck me on a couch on our first night as a married couple r u kidding me”

touché

yoongi groans impatiently and flops onto his back on the plush bed because once you get the bedroom ur like okay give me a minute i need to pee

what!!! he’s a man with simPLE neeDS

he just wants to make love to his wife okay!!!!!!!!

yoongi doesn’t know how he forgot this detail but when you emerge from the bathroom dressed in a very vERy sexy pair of lacy bra and panties that he bought for you to wear especially for tonight he’s suddenly like lol the wait was woRth it omg

“like it?”

it came with this short silky robe that’s slipping off one of your shoulders as you approach him

yoongi swears his mouth is watering

“like it? i fucking love it.”

holy fuck

you are

so

sO

hot

you giggle because you’ve never seen yoongi so flustered before

you straddle him and his hands are like hovering over your hips

you’ve worn lingerie for him before but tonight you look extra ravishing

you look at him and his eyes flicker up to from your boobs (he can’t help it they’re like right in his face okay) to your face

his eyes are all dark and blown out and he places his hands on your hips before giving you a squeeze and taking his bottom lip in between his teeth

“fuck, look at you...” even after all this time you have to admit you still get blushy when yoongi sees you wearing lingerie just for him

now you’RE the one who’s flustered  

once he gets the flimsy robe off of you and tosses it to the ground you instinctively cover yourself up but yoongi grabs your wrists before you can do that and he holds them behind your back with one hand

“c’mere” yoongi rasps, hooking a finger under your chin and pulling you down towards him so he can kiss you

when he lets go of your wrists you immediately reach up and start undoing his buttons as he peels his suit jacket off and tosses it somewhere

“you gonna make love to me now?” you feel yoongi unclasp your bra before he’s helping you take his shirt off

“cheesy,” he teases “but yes, i’m going to make love to you now”

you never know why yoongi buys so much lingerie for you because they all end up on the floor like -5 seconds after you show it to him

“fuck, fuck, that’s it, you’re so good for me” yoongi pants and tilts his head up in pleasure because you feel sO tight and soft and warm around him “you’re a-all mine,” he grunts and thrusts into you again and it hits thAt spot inside of you making you cry out

“yours, i’m yours,” you moan and yoongi wants to fall apart when he hears you whimper an ‘i belong to you’ into his ear

he intertwines his fingers with yours before leaning down to plant his lips on yours

it’s reminiscent of the night he proposed to you because he feels your ring biting into the sides of his fingers when you squeeze his hand

the only difference is that now it’s a wedding ring instead of an engagement ring

yoongi wraps his fingers under your thigh and hitches it up against his waist

and he can’t help but look down at where the two of you are connected and he watches himself disappear into you as he thrusts

“shit, baby, don’t squeeze like that” yoongi warns you and you apologise quietly before you nudge your nose against his and kiss him

it only takes another minute or so before you start feeling warmth bubbling inside of you

“yOon- ’m not gonna- please let me c-cum i’m so close”  

yoongi bites down on your shoulder hard when he feels you dig your nails into his back

the bed starts to creak underneath the two of you but yoongi literally does not give a shit because all he can focus on is getting you to cum

his fingers are rubbing figure-8s on your clit while he’s hitting the sweet spot inside of you over and over and ovEr again and you think your soul actually leaves your body when you finally are pushed over the edge

it’s just the sound of your guys’ moans and groans and skin on skin echoing around the room

“i- ah! i love you i l-love youiloveyouiloveyou” you’re crying out yoongi’s name and he just wants to hear you cry out his name on loop for the rest of his liFE

“love you- fuck - love you m-more” yoongi lets out the most guttural groan when he cums and you feel him spurt inside of you as he rides out both of your orgasms

yoongi leans back on his heels and pulls out of you slowly and you immediately clench around nothing

“pretty little pussy n it’s all mine” yoongi mutters more to himself than to you and you immediately blush and clamp your legs shut because you never know what to say when yoongi says something like thAt

“nuh-uh, don’t get shy on me now, you minx” yoongi pries your legs apart with a grin and slots himself in between them again before leaning down to give you a sweet kiss

anyways you and yoongi end up having sex like three more times that night because you guys can’t get enough of each other and each time you finish your hormones are like lol nopE let’s do this AGAIN

thank god the walls here are thick otherwise you’d get many many noise complaints

you wake up early the next morning and find yourself snuggled up to yoongi

you unravel his arm from around your waist and sit up before stretching out your limbs

you pull the sheets up so that it’s covering your chest and you turn to look at your snoozing husband

he’s still glowing from last night and his lips look so soft and pouty

his eyelashes cast a shadow over his cheeks

he looks so beautiful in the soft glow of the morning light

you’ve never been more in love with him than at this moment

your eyes trail down his face to his bare chest until they reach his left hand and your heart warms at the sight of a silver ring wrapped around his ring finger

your heart flutters in your chest because you are no longer ms y/l/n you are now mrs min

wow

you guys are married

you’re his wife

he’s your husband

holy shit

he stirs underneath you and you wait for him to open his pretty brown eyes

“good morning, mr min” you have your chin propped up on your folded hands and yoongi wraps his arm tighter around you before yawning and stretching his limbs out

“good morning, mrs min” his voice is low and raspy from just waking up but he reaches down to poke your nose gently “…how long have you been watching me sleep, you creep?”  

ah

who says romance is dead?

next week you guys are flying to yoongi’s hometown daegu for a traditional korean wedding

which you’re reALLy excited for because you’ve always loved learning about different cultures and traditions

and hello??? the hanbok you’re going to be wearing is a deep purple colour and you love that

plus you’ve been brushing up on your korean lately and you’re preTTY much fluent at this point

(not rly)

you know what though you realised that you can pretty much get away with anything as long as you keep saying 네 [yes]

“shouldn’t you be working right now? i’m not your tutor” yoongi snorts when you stumble into his room with a bunch of korean textbooks clutched to your chest

“listen liSten i’m like basically fluent now okay just have a conversation with me i promise u i will be able to hold a basic conversation” you sit down across from him and yoongi leans forward on his folded arms on the desk

“okay, fine. 안녕하세요.” [hello.]

“안녕하세요!!!!!!!!!!!” [hello!!!!!!!!!!!] you say hello a little too enthusiastically and yoongi chuckles at how cute you are

you have a slight accent (obviously) and he thinks it’s just the cuTEST thing ever

“잘지냈어요?” [how are you?]

“좋은. 그리고 너?” [good. and yourself?]

yoongi figures maybE he can have a little fun with this

“좋은, 고맙습니다. 너 쿠키를 가져간거야?” [good, thank you. are you okay with me taking your cookies away?]

your eyes widen a little in surprise because whaT did he just say,,,.,,,

okay don’t panic

“…네”

“오! 좋은. 또한 점심 시간을 없애고 있습니다.” [oh! good. also, i’m taking your lunch break away.]

“…네…”

“너는 더 이상 지민을 볼 수 없다.” [you’re not allowed to see jimin anymore.]

um

okay you heard jimin in there somewhere

maybe he’s asking you if you like jimin???

“네!”

“나는 리사와 결혼하고 너와 이혼하고있어..” [i’m marrying lisa and divorcing you]

your brows immediately furrow because did he just mention,,, liSA

you don’t know what he said but if lisa’s in there it can’t be good

“아니!” [no!]

“i think you might need to brush up on your korean a little more” yoongi smirks and tilts his head before gesturing to the door “go back to work, jagi”

“why!!!!!!!!!!! my korean’s like noT half bad”

“really? because you just agreed for me to take your cookies away, take your lunch break away, and you’re no longer allowed to see jimin. at least you said no to me marrying lisa and divorcing you. i have a conference call, you gotta get outta here” yoongi gets up from his chair before placing a hand on the small of your back and nudging you towards the door

“wha- that’s SO unfair you know i only know the basics you can’t just do that!!!!!“ yoongi opens the door for you

“sure i can! you agreed to all of it. 키스 [kis-su], please.”

okay at least you know what that means

you cup yoongi’s jaw and pull him down to give him a lil kiss and he taps your bum

“waiT wait i have something else to say” you turn around before yoongi can push you out

“what is it noW”

he’s expecting you to swear at him or say something dumb but instead you wrap your arms around his waist and prop your chin up on his chest to look up at him

“사랑해~” [i love you]

and yoongi’s heart grows like a triLLION TIMES BIGGER YOU ARE SO CUTE

“너를 더 사랑해.” [love you more]

[bakudekuficlibrary]

BakuDeku: Angst One Shots Part I

Click here for Part II & Part III!

84 Works.

Fallout by limesicle  ( T | 2,505 | 1/1 )

Katsuki does everything the hard way. Falling in love isn't an exception.

It doesn't take him long to realize he's falling, but it takes him ten years to admit it to himself. It takes another ten before he says it out loud.

For the Future by limesicle  ( T | 2,886 | 1/1 )

In which All Might doesn’t arrive in time. In which Katsuki watches his childhood friend fall by his own hand. In which he realizes too many things after he’s lost too much.

[Major Character Death | Suicidal Thoughts]

Words They Didn't Say by crushingblue  ( G | 1,804 | 1/1 )

Bakugou doesn't know how to say enough. Deku is scared to say too much.

Series Part 1 of Future Feelings

Crossroads by atosei  ( T | 1,493 | 1/1 )

“I already told you,” he said steadily, “I’m leaving for good. As of today, I’m resigning as a Pro Hero.” Bakugou laughed harshly. “You’ve got to be kidding me – you, resigning? Best joke I’ve heard in years.”

If you really knew Bakugou, you’d be able to hear the hint of fear he was trying to hide behind those cruel words. And if you really knew Midoriya, you’d be able to see in his eyes that he was dead serious. And they really did know each other that well, to that extent, to be able to pick up on the emotions that they’d tried so hard to lock away and it was then that something broke between them, something irreversible and Bakugou knew he couldn’t keep this up any longer.

Series Part 1 of Intersection

imbalance (he knocked the world from under your feet) by dovedapple  ( G | 506 | 1/1 )

/ɪmˈbal(ə)ns/ noun the lack of proportion or relation between corresponding things.

Taraché by Funky Hanji (Temari)  ( T | 4,571 | 1/1 )

- «Hey Bakugou. […] You ever been afraid of your quirk? It’s hella strong, I bet it was scary until you learned to control it…! » -

Choices by stardustacademia (cosmiclarents)  ( T | 576 | 1/1 )

The only summary I can think of for this is what's in the tags, honestly. Angsty vague bakudeku w/ a splash of plot. Just a bit.

Series Part 1 of Drabbles With Potential

opia by Ramabear (RyMagnatar), timeto-explode (NoWayApril)  ( T | 2,169 | 1/1 )

In an attempt to breach the wall put up between Bakugou and Midoriya, All Might and Aizawa try something a little unorthodox. The two teens are set down in chairs across from each other with the instruction to stay there and look into each other's eyes.

The strange vulnerability that follows spurs a confession that Bakugou isn't prepared for in the least.

Так бывает by Serpentaria  ( G | 705 | 1/1 )

Так бывает, что ты не предназначен своей родственной душе.

Fearless by ukiinas  ( G | 1,434 | 1/1 )

Izuku's fiery spirit and compassion were so dazzling that it blinded him; his strength and endurance were so captivating that it scorched him like an inextinguishable flame. They’d never come on equal terms as to even try and begin to understand one another, and perhaps Katsuki was to blame, but it was precisely due Izuku’s brilliance that he found it hard to approach him.

Series Part 1 of Fear, Pride, Denial

Tempo by ichikonohakko  ( G | 2,081 | 1/1 )

He promised Katsuki the world.

But Deku was a villain. And no villain should be trusted.

--- Or in which Deku let himself slip up in a moment of weakness.

Series Part 7 of Villain!Deku AU

reconnect: extended version by Ramabear (RyMagnatar)  ( T | 4,639 | 1/1 )

After a brief meeting at Yuuei, Izuku takes Katsuki back to his small apartment for conversation and dinner.

{ Curator’s Note: This work is tagged with “Exes”. }

Screaming never helps Screaming always helps Don't scream Do scream by inspectorwired  ( T | 551 | 1/1 )

Don't look at me that way

Tears by frostyoctopus ( Not Rated | 436 | 1/1 )

lil one shot i made of kaachan/deku.... i rly like bnha haha. i dont read the manga OOPS so idk if these characterizations are 100% accurate... kaachan ponders the real reason why he hates deku so much but he cant pin-point the specific emotion he feels towards deku...

Make Every Moment Last by osakakitty  ( E | 6,885 | 1/1 )

There are days where Izuku Midoriya wakes in a different world. It is usually a world very similar to his own, but with noticeable changes. The thing that changes the most is Katsuki Bakugo. Sometimes he's a friend, sometimes he's not, and sometimes he's something else entirely.

Canon-Divergent story where Midoriya has the uncontrollable ability to travel to parallel universes. He sleeps in one, and may wake up in another. By seeing through the eyes of many different 'Izuku Midoriya,' he learns things about himself and Bakugo.

Terrible Losses by AshREvans  ( T | 1,339 | 1/1 )

rasm835g asked: Could you write a scenario describing Bakugou or midoriya having to react to the other one dying, and how their reactions would differ from one another

From my BNHA scenario blog https://myheroscenarios.tumblr.com/ Feel free to submit requests!!!

Series Part 4 of Multifandom Tumblr Requests Part 3 of BNHA Tumblr Requests

[Major Character Death]

Your sorrow, pouring out of your skin by tandum (nea_writes)  ( T | 3,433 | 1/1 )

Izuku dies in Katsuki's arms, and he becomes intimately familiar with the long shadow of regret.

He's so full of regret he wishes he could vomit it out.

Every time he hurt Deku, every moment he rejected him, every single instance he made Deku's smile fade, haunts Katsuki.

What he should've said to Deku long ago, what he never said, what even in his dying moments he held back, he says now, to the only person who'll understand, and who will never forgive him.

Series Part 1 of Even though all I wanted to do was become strong like you

[Major Character Death]

blindness by umbrage  ( M | 1,771 | 1/1 )

There's a fine line between love and hate, but Bakugou's willful lack of nuance proves both to be equally painful.

Here Comes a Thought by myraj  ( T | 600 | 1/1 )

"Kacchan, I'm here"

Snap Out Of It by ReturnToZero  ( Not Rated | 1,068 | 1/1 )

There was a time in his childhood where he had hopes and dreams of being the best, with the full support of those all around him. Everyone knew he could be a top hero, and he was just waiting on finding a suitable sidekick early on, to ensure they both would be top notch and tightly knit.

“Mom has the ability to pull small objects to herself, I might get that as my quirk!” the quiet voice muses, the joy of imagining his soon to be quirk filling his words with hope unlike any other.

“Still not as good as my quirk though! Cmon Izuchan, you have to do better than that if you wanna be my sidekick.”

Bakudeku Week Day 2: Cotton Candy / Childhood / Sloth

Series Part 2 of BakuDeku Week 2k17

Happy Birthday Deku! by LionellLim  ( M | 3,566 | 1/1 )

15th of July was the day of our hero special day but can he celebrate it with his lover without getting interrupted with his work?

Series Part 4 of Katsudeku compilation of one shot

skin shouldn't look like that by HummusKing  ( M | 3,007 | 1/1 )

“How about I cut you a deal! You’re a prideful kid right? How about I’ll stop if you get on your knees and beg.” Tomura took his hand off Midoriya’s face, the flesh blistering red as blood began to trickle down the boy’s cheeks. Midoriya’s eyes began to flutter, the pain causing him to slowly lose consciousness but he kept his gaze locked with Bakugou’s. Something in his emerald eyes had pleaded for him, maybe to tell him to give up and to get out, or maybe it was a plea for help – Bakugou didn’t know.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Torture & Blood)]

I'll Wait by ZoZoTheTaco  ( T | 489 | 1/1 )

For BakuDeku week.

"I waved goodbye to you knowing that you'd come back home to me."

Katsuki falls apart waiting for Izuku to come back home. (inner-monologue style)

I was not born to drown by yabakuboi  ( T | 2,645 | 1/1 )

One more night, Izuku thinks. He’ll stay with me one more night.

another old space odyssey by sorethroat  ( T | 2,058 | 1/1 )

“Car-di-o-meg..aly,” Deku fumbles around the words. “I can’t see the moon with you.”

He stands there, Deku smiling tight like if he moves his tears will spill over, and they’re too young to laugh at the idea that the insurmountable obstacle in front of them is a heart that’s just too big.

-

Bakugou is an astronaut but he's forgotten why. Midoriya wants him to come home.

Lovesick by halcyonwhispers  ( M | 2,652 | 1/1 )

Izuku must’ve felt sorry for him more than Katsuki first thought. There’s always some stupid penalty ‘date’ that’s supposed to make Katsuki feel better because Izuku’s made of fucking rainbows and stupid sunshine.

He couldn’t even let his fuck buddy feel like he’s been used.

"Care" by The_Simpatico_Writer (AjhayLee)  ( G | 826 | 1/1 )

Your life was a movie Scene by scene You had your thoughts that he would soon be Your Teenage Dream And with your fire, you assumed he Would put it out But he couldn't

Come on and make your mind up Love ain't so hard to find ya When he was standing there Waiting for you to care

Waiting for you to care (3x) You thought he had landed All maxed out You let him fall and leave him stranded Without a doubt And you're here beggin' for a lover Well turn around because you missed it Oh you missed it Come on and make your mind up Love ain't so hard to find ya When he was standing there Waiting for you to care Waiting for you to care (3x) Look at yourself Is this really what you wanted Is this really what you wanted Look at yourself Look at what you started Waiting for you to care (3x) Come on and make your mind up Love ain't so hard to find ya When he was standing there Waiting for you to care

[Major Character Death]

Rose Knows by origami_soul  ( Not Rated | 501 | 1/1 )

Bakugou meets a younger Deku in his dream.

[Bullying]

Aquiver by stardustacademia (cosmiclarents)  ( Not Rated | 4,083 | 1/1 )

This is supposed to be their happily ever after.

Unfortunately, 'Happily Ever After' doesn't always guarantee unconditional satisfaction.

Radio Silence  ( T | 1,634 | 1/1 )

When making a dangerous plan one must consider Murphy's law. For those who are unfamiliar, the law states, "anything that can go wrong, will go wrong." But there's a hidden side to this rule that comes into play when you least expect it, "If things are ok, expect them to get bad. And if they do, expect them to get worse."

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood and Gore)]

Walls by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine)  ( T | 5,245 | 1/1 )

Official sources had announced, that the two students from UA’s Class 1-A, who had been missing for the past three days, had been recovered during a raid led by Heroes, with the participation of their classmates. There had been no official statement regarding the state the two students are in, but hospital sources had confirmed that they are alive, and their lives are not in danger.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Torture) | Psychological Torture]

syzygy by shousanki  ( T | 2,151 | 1/1 )

The thought of being apart never even crossed Izuku's mind until it became a reality, and then a nightmare.

we run in antiparallel.  ( T | 1,181 | 1/1 )

there are different ways in which a boy can be saved.

katsudeku week: day 2 - heroes/villains

Sleeping With Ghosts by lalazee  ( M | 1,003 | 1/1 )

“I guess even heroes have to do their grocery shopping.” “Villains, too,” Katsuki said tightly. “Villains?” Deku blinked, gasping softly as he went to his tip toes and looked over the aisle divider. “Where? Shit, Kacchan, you’d better get on that!”

Written for KatsuDeku Week 2017, Day 2: Heroes/Villains.

the way you are is like a dream.  ( T | 4,001 | 1/1 )

nothing makes sense in this world. especially bakugou katsuki.

bakudeku week: day 3 - fantasy (a different kind of au)

[Implied/Referenced Bullying]

I'm Sorry by Viciedy  ( Not Rated | 1,074 | 1/1 )

Suicide. Late apologies. Lack of self-expression. Depression. What more is left?

Bakugou Katsuki sulking in his locked room with a cutter in his hand.

[Major Character Death | Suicide]

“if it could be you…” by holdingoutforahero  ( E | 1,508 | 1/1 )

Loving Katsuki is something Izuku just does.

Only in My Memories. by aeyongdarling  ( G | 1,703 | 1/1 )

He always sees him talking, sees him sending a message and always hear him muttering his usual things. But it seems he was always ignored, always talked over. As if he doesn't exist in other's lives.

Mentiroso Pierrot by Stasawe  ( G | 2,663 | 1/1 )

"No tienes que soportarlo tú solo." Ser capaz de hacer sonreír a la gente era su mayor sueño. Izuku haría cualquier cosa con tal de conseguir ver a las personas felices. Por otro lado, Katsuki estuvo reprimiendo la libertad que le correspondía.

Count of Three by lalazee  ( M | 1,522 | 1/1 )

“You asshole,” Bakugou said, numb fingers fumbling as he shucked off his gloves and threw them aside. “Save two dozen people and then do this? Not on your life.”

Quirkless Vigilante Deku AU.

Series Part 1 of Vigilante/Quirkless!Deku AU

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood & Mild Gore)]

Deku please don't go... by miiba_chan (marichat_girl13)  ( T | 531 | 1/1 )

Series Part 2 of Bakudeku oneshots!

[Suicide]

Bound to You by Magefeathers  ( T | 5,751 | 1/1 )

There were a few moments of nothing but the static, and Izuku feared that maybe the demon had disconnected after all. But then the voice spoke again, and this time it was flat, listless, without any of the anger and fire Izuku had come to expect from it.

“I exist to destroy you, Midoriya Izuku,” he repeated. When he continued his voice was bitter, and almost sad. “I’m bound to you. I am going to steal your breath from you, because that’s the only way for me to be free. Sooner or later, one way or another, I will destroy you.”

there are listed buildings by semiautomatichearts  ( M | 3,309 | 1/1 )

Katsuki first sees colors bloom when he is only three years old. It is timid Izuku, hiding behind the cover of his mother's leg who looks upon him with wide eyes, and Katsuki's world explodes in shades of greens and pinks and blues, and he is so startled, he begins to cry.

His life is then on defined in color, in shades his peers can't see, by the forlorn, timid stare in Izuku's eyes that always lets off more than he is willing to tell. There is a schism driven between himself and his fated other, and Katsuki strives to be better than fate, better than what is defined for him. He is more than the written pages of a book, to be cracked open and read by the gods.

He wonders if it is possible for colors to bloom for someone who will never love you back.

Healing Process by shewizzard  ( M | 10,962 | 1/1 )

When an injury leaves Deku out of commission, Bakugou steps in to help the healing process. Between all of his friends feeding him up and Bakugou pushing him Midoriya ends up putting on some pounds.

Let the Petals Fall by limesicle  ( T | 4,976 | 1/1 )

In a world where hanahaki emerged around the same time as quirks did, it's a disease that doesn't happen to many. But it does seem to run in families. Ever since Katsuki heard that his mother had it, he wondered if he'd get it, too. When the first signs occurred, he tried to fight it. But as the green flowers kept spilling from his lungs, it got harder to ignore.

In short, it's the katsudeku hanahaki AU that no one asked for.

Series Part 1 of Tiger Lilies and Crysanthemums

Our Dream by Purplemerald  ( G | 1,176 | 1/1 )

"Izuku, what do you really want? Die never accomplishing your dreams? Or live and...?" Katsuki didn't continue but the words were already said.

Live and be with me.

[Major Character Death]

11 Miles by Dragonbooks249  ( T | 3,752 | 1/1 )

Is there something you want? Something you need? How far are you willing to go to get it? Bakugou Katsuki would go anywhere to get what he wants. What he needs.

[Major Character Death]

Близко by Explodocat  ( G | 1,175 | 1/1 )

Сигареты. И вещи, озвучивать которые вовсе не обязательно.

Punishment by Purplemerald  ( G | 1,314 | 1/1 )

"You who have done evil, you are a sinner, you do not deserve happiness, you will never forget your sin."

Deku..

I want to be your friend again..

But I'll never forget that I hurt you. Even if that pure smile is given to me, I can never forgive myself.

[Major Character Death]

Pained Lotus by VoidRune  ( T | 1,732 | 1/1 )

Katsuki was still working out the toughest parts of understanding his boyfriend, of rediscovering the childhood friend he lost somewhere along the way. Most of the time, it wasn't expected, but endearing in ways he had simply never seen before.

At times, they just looped back into some old wounds.

Katsuki hated not knowing what to do, but he tries.

Series Part 1 of Lotus

Loving Him is Painful by ioooriiii15  ( Not Rated | 321 | 1/1 )

She's there whenever you're in pain.

She's there when the world turn its back to you.

Why did you let her go?

'Til Death Do Us Part by reijeux  ( T | 2,448 | 1/1 )

Izuku is the world’s greatest hero. It doesn’t take long before Katsuki notices he’s changing; it doesn’t take long for Izuku to realize what’s happening to himself, either.

[Major Character Death]

Start At Ground Zero by lalazee  ( T | 1,551 | 1/1 )

The longer Katsuki knew Deku, the more he realized how much he didn’t know.

Hospital scene, aftermath.

Series Part 2 of Vigilante/Quirkless!Deku AU

A Hero by Purplemerald  ( G | 822 | 1/1 )

Trapped under a villain attack, Izuku could only scream his name as Katsuki makes his decision.

Chewed Up by warschach  ( E | 30,693 | 1/1 )

Zombie apocalypse, more than a third of the population currently dead or in the state of undead, and Katsuki still somehow managed to get his shit stolen by two chicks and Freckle boy.

Fuck this new generation.

Scattered Anemones by gaytodoroki  ( T | 3,582 | 1/1 )

"Fuck you for making me cough up a ton of shitty flowers," is what Bakugou might say to him, if he had the courage to actually confess and wasn't stuck panicking over his stupid crush.

[Panic Attacks]

we make homes out of people and we forget that they are bones and blood and stardust and all of them can perish as well. by moonblossoms  ( G | 854 | 1/1 )

katsuki reflects on his life with and without izuku.

[Major Character Death]

silk by holdingoutforahero  ( G | 669 | 1/1 )

Katsuki is anxious, Izuku can recognize that even from the slightest signs. He is going to snap any second and this time Izuku has to let it slide instead of letting out a weary sigh and a sharp “Kacchan”. Katsuki’s hand is slightly trembling as he ties the obi of his inner underrobe. Izuku steps closer to him and pulls the narrow belt out of his hands.

“Here, let me."

For the Flowers that Bloom Inside by limesicle  ( T | 8,457 | 1/1 )

Hanahaki develops in approximately two out of a hundred people. The strength, the prognosis, and the outcome depend on the person afflicted and, of course, the person who made the disease present in the first place. Izuku has known these things for as long as he can remember–for as long as he’s seen his mother coughing petals. Two out of a hundred–and he would be one of them–like being quirkless wasn’t bad enough.

Izuku’s side of the story of the katsudeku hanahaki AU (you don’t need to read the other half first to understand it)

Series Part 2 of Tiger Lilies and Crysanthemums

A Classical Storm by oceanswrath  ( T | 1,400 | 1/1 )

In that moment only the two of them existed, a force to be reckoned with greater than the storm raging outside.

i have seen every single one of your life milestones and i’m really glad i’m one of them. by moonblossoms  ( G | 1,072 | 1/1 )

izuku reflects on the milestones he and katsuki have shared together aka i write a terrible fanfic at 3am and say the word milestones a lot.

[Major Character Death]

Odd Combinations by whatthefuckisupkyle  ( M | 1,813 | 1/1 )

Katsuki called Izuku over to his house because he was just a mess at 3AM.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con | Implied/Referenced Self-Harm | Implied/Referenced Abuse]

{ Curator’s Note: None of the Rape & Abuse warned about above is between Katsuki and Izuku. It is from Bakugou explaining all the things that were wrong in the relationship he was in that he had just ended. }

Green Haze by reijeux  ( T | 2,408 | 1/1 )

Denying his soulmate the first time brings a nightmarish consequence to Katsuki as he's forced to live through different lifetimes where he dreads the coming of Christmas.

[Major Character Death]

stained glass variation of truth by cheaperthantherapy  ( T | 3,717 | 1/1 )

It has been six years.

Well, it has been six years, ten months and four days.

Twenty-Four by SharkbaitSekki  ( T | 15,874 | 1/1 )

Izuku gets himself kidnapped, and Katsuki is dragged into it with him as they face villains with particularly terrifying illusion Quirks.

It ends up being a living nightmare, but Katsuki can't bring himself to regret following Izuku into it all. Because between the pain and the terror, between the lies and the illusions, between life and death, at least they can always hang onto one another. Even if everything else is fake, they know that they will always be real.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Torture)]

This is Grinder, not Christian Mingle... by Crandberrycrush  ( E | 7,568 | 1/1 )

The quality of the video was horrible, fuzzy green hair was all he could see for the first few seconds, before a flushed and freckled smile much too close to the camera appeared, followed closely by a gratuitous amount of laughter.

“Kaaaaachaaannnn…. What are you doooooin’?”

The screen wobbled and refocused on the face, round cheeks glowing in the red and yellow lights of some unknown bar. Cheesy pop music cracked through his speakers - trash that Katsuki would never be caught dead listening to. Suddenly the image switched from Izuku’s face to the flat wooden surface of what Katsuki could only assume was the bar and ended. Fucking Deku.

Do you Regret it? by MadamBlue  ( M | 1,331 | 1/1 )

A rescue mission goes horribly wrong

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood and Gore)]

saltwater knives & saltwater lives by writedeku ( T | 1,580 | 1/1 )

Before.

(Before is a time Katsuki doesn't like to think of now. Before was before, now is now, but it does deserve reflection.)

Series Part 2 of the saltwater saga

[Bullying | Physical Abuse]

to know you by Anonymous ( T | 7,645 | 1/1 )

They were the Wonder Duo, the saviors of the innocent, and it took that reminder to get Izuku through yet another sleepless night.

defluo by managician ( T | 1,165 | 1/1 )

defluo: verb. to flow down, waste, disappear. “I probably should have thought about the consequences of selling my soul first.”

[Major Character Death]

Ожоги by Explodocat ( T | 3,356 | 1/1 )

После достижения четырнадцатилетия человек не может прикасаться ни к кому, кроме своего соулмейта, не вызывая ожоги.

I've Loved You Since Forever by BeanPasteMan ( G | 289 | 1/1 )

Katsuki and Izuku went on a mission together and Katsuki died. Izuku never got the chance to tell him how he felt before Katsuki passed away.

[Major Character Death]

Am I Ready? by Ryxmas ( G | 6,226 | 1/1 )

Even after one and a half years after his disappearance, Izuku never really stopped thinking about Katsuki. After all, Katsuki always had a habit of barging into your life, even if you never expected it.

Don't Phunk With My Heart by yamarik ( T | 7,972 | 1/1 )

Deku wakes up with a hangover in the worst possible place. Now he’s in fear for his life. Meanwhile, Kacchan just wants to return Deku’s train pass...

heaven in hiding by halcyonwhispers ( T | 8,827 | 1/1 )

After years of without contact, Izuku's suddenly thrown into playing seven minutes in heaven with Kacchan at a dumb house party he didn't even wanna go to.

He didn’t expect how things turned out.

Endless by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine) ( T | 3,582 | 1/1 )

It’s been six months since the pro hero Ground Zero’s last stand, and Izuku was determined to make things right.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death]

One More Time, One More Chance by limesicle ( T | 3,256 | 1/1 )

Katsuki knows he’s made mistakes–some worse than others–but none as bad as letting Izuku walk into that fight alone.

Series Part 2 of Spring BakuDeku Week 2018

let our proud fossils prove who we were by shousanki ( T | 2,622 | 1/1 )

Katsuki does not die. He does not kind-of propose to Izuku while in the throes of near-death delirium either. And they are not talking.

Series Part 2 of 青春ノンストップ ーSpring Bakudeku Week 2018ー

Lie by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine) ( T | 1,883 | 1/1 )

The timer on their wrists, written with black numbers were different for everyone, constantly counting back the seconds. Everyone knew that the moment you first touch your soulmate, the timer on both of your arms will reach zero.

The timers on the arms of Izuku and Katsuki kept counting backwards.

Lost, but lost together by Tsulivy ( T | 1,660 | 1/1 )

"Kacchan... It's too late... It's already spreading, I can feel that I'm losing my last grip on whatever's left of my sanity," Deku said weakly to Katsuki, who was holding him in his arms, silently shaking trying to comfort the other. "you need to leave... Before I go after you, I don't want you to be lost, too."

"Shut the hell up," Katsuki said out of breath because of an upcoming panic attack. "I'm thinking, let me fucking think for one goddamn second, we'll figure it out."

"Kacchan..."

[Major Character Death]

Meeting Again by Dana91 ( G | 1,141 | 1/1 )

Bakugo never thought he would see him again. Not there. Not at the Hero License Exam. But most of all, what the hell was quirkless Deku doing with Shiketsu uniform?

Series Part 1 of Shiketsu AU

The Me you don't know by Dana91 ( T | 1,391 | 1/1 )

Sequel to "Meeting Again", same AU.

Just a really emotionally constipated Bakugo and a new "Deku" he is not familiar with. Someone should switch off those emotions for him anyway.

Series Part 2 of Shiketsu AU

Love That's Left Behind by ploThief ( T | 1,439 | 1/1 )

The trio flinch when they hear the tale-tell guttural moan of hungry zombies. Two new zombies have heard the commotion. One looks savage, face twisted forever in an angry scowl. The other is plainer, moving with a slight limp. The two are bloodied and dirty, but in much better condition than most zombies they cross. Newly turned, Ochaco’s mind supplies. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

[Major Character Death]

Into the Night by MadamBlue ( M | 1,721 | 1/1 )

He takes a step.

The world doesn't need me.

Another step.

I'm useless.

He braces himself on the low wall.

I can't control my quirk.

In one swift movement, he scales the wall and stands tall, looking out into the night one last time. In a strange way, he felt at peace. The day was already cold and calm, just how he wanted to feel.

I can't protect anyone.

Izuku takes one final breath and closes his eyes, his foot outstretched to take the final plunge.

[Suicide Attempt]

Being Alive is the Most Comforting Thing We Have by Mrs_AgustD ( M | 1,135 | 1/1 )

“'Suki, please no” The typically violent tempered blond freezes all movement, just like the blood in his veins freeze. 'Suki 'Suki 'Suki The word echoes and bounces around the inside of his skull, and he feels bile rise up his throat and he panics. Only one person calls him 'Suki, but he’s dead, he is so very dead.

[Anxiety Attacks | Mentions of Self-Harm]

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: imma keep it real w/ yall... im a lil drunk rn!!! hope this fic is still good tho lmao! this is pertaining to the plot of the anime rn like how gray and juvia reunited after six months... well we never did get to hear gray’s explanation or apology..... so here it is! enjoy! side note: after actually writing this 1. im not rly drunk anymore, a shame. and 2. all my fics as of recently literally have the same exact format lol!!! cool! great!! we love a boring queen! ok hopefully i can stray from this format in the future but for now! here is ~this~.<3

*

“Oi, Juvia,” Natsu turned and called out to Juvia. They were finally beginning their long awaited journey back to Magnolia, to reform their guild, after just defeating Avatar. “Did you and Gray wanna’ go back to your cabin and get some of your stuff before you go back?”

“G-g-go back?! Just the two of us?! After all this time?!” Juvia’s face turned a blistering red as she cupped her fiery cheeks in her hands. It had been so long since they were both alone in that house together. What would it be like? How would they act? Would things be different?

“Oh yeah.” Gray calmly chimed in. “There are some things I wanna’ get.” He then turned to Juvia. “We should probably go.”

“O-of course! If Gray-sama insists!” She perked up, suddenly eager to go.

They caught a train back to the village they stayed in and made it there in a fairly short amount of time. Gray looked around their old home with suspicion.There wasn’t a soul to be seen. The town was once so full of life, and bright with spirit. Now the grey clouds above seemed to reflect the dreary village.

“Did something happen?” Gray asked Juvia as they casually walked through the town. “There’s nobody here.” He continued looking, looking for any sign of life.

“Oh.” Juvia remembered, and slouched slightly, partially ashamed. “Everyone kind of, well, left.” She said simply.

“What?” Gray was surprised. “Why?”

“Well...” She paused and took a moment to breathe. “Juvia’s rain sort of... came back, and it was, well, constant.” Her voice was sheepish. “It sort of drove everyone out of the village Juvia supposes.” She forced a smile and a fake lighthearted laugh.

That got Gray’s attention. He stopped looking through the village and snapped his focus onto Juvia. “What do you mean it came back?” He seemed annoyed.

“After Gray-sama left, Juvia’s rain came back.” She shrugged. Once she saw Gray’s look of what seemed like agitation, she began to panic. “It’s not a big deal or anything! Juvia was just being over-dramatic!” She gave another plastic smile, attempting to ease Gray.

“Tch.” Gray looked away from Juvia and turned back to the path to the way to their house, dropping the conversation.

Eventually, they approached their cabin. The wood that the house was built out of was seemingly becoming moldy, or at least dingy. All of the drapes to the windows were now closed, although Gray remembered Juvia always insisted they leave them open. The plants that Juvia adored that were littered around the porch were dead from drowning in her storm.

“Juvia is sorry the house is so out of shape, Gray-sama!” Juvia was embarrassed. She only ever had Gray on her mind, so she never took the time to worry about the appearance of their home once he was gone. Even though that place meant everything to her, she seemed to completely disregard it.

“Stop it.” Gray said, harshly. He didn’t need Juvia to explain herself. It was ridiculous of her. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re just here to get our stuff.”

“Right.” Juvia nodded.

Inside, the rooms were dark, and dusty. It was hard for Gray to believe they even lived their at one point, that this was the same home they shared. He remembered Juvia always making a fuss about keeping the place clean, and decorative, and so full of life: some things that this foreign lot was lacking.

Gray was finished packing up first. He had all of his belongings in a duffel bag with a couple other things held in his hand. The door to Juvia’s room was open, so he walked in and leaned on the frame of the doorway.

“Yo.” Juvia flinched to Gray’s low voice, it had been so long since she heard it. She paused her packing and turned around. “I’m all packed up. If you need any help just let me-” Gray paused. As he looked around, Juvia’s room seemed to follow the same format as the rest of the rooms. Dull, gloomy, muted, but something caught his eye.

“What’s this?” He set his belongings down. He walked over to her bedside table towards a vile of red liquid, which was now almost empty. 

“Oh, well, nothing really.” Juvia sporadically said with a forced chuckle and quickly was at Gray’s side, hoping to take the bottle before he could get a good look at it.

“Medicine?” He read the label of the bottle. “And it looks like Wendy’s handwriting.” He turned to Juvia.

“Y-yes.” Juvia took a step back and nervously held her hands together. “Wendy-san made that potion for Juvia.” She looked away.

“Why?”

“Juvia was, uh, well, sort of sick.” She remained avoiding eye contact.

“Sick?” Gray’s voice and tone raised. “You were sick? And Wendy couldn’t cure it with just her magic? She had to make a potion?” All of these little things were building up to one big slap in Gray’s face.

“Juvia had a very bad fever. I was sitting outside most of the time, so it was caused by my rain...” She said to the volume of that of a mouse, fidgeting her hands.

“Oh my god.” Gray sunk. He put the bottle back on the table and collapsed onto the bed, holding his head in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. Just what had he done?

“B-but none of this is Gray-sama’s fault!” She was quick to perk up and defend Gray.

“All of this is my fucking fault!” Gray lifted his head and snapped his gaze to Juvia with sharp, blunt eyes, glistening with a sheen of tears. Juvia dropped her defense, and looked back beneath her.

“If it weren’t for me, this place wouldn’t look like shit, your rain wouldn’t have come back, and you wouldn’t have gotten sick!” He was angry. Juvia said nothing. “Am I wrong?!”

Juvia’s shoulders began to bog, jaggedly, up and down. She had finally broken. She was out of false excuses.

“Why did you leave me, Gray-sama?” She looked back up to him, tears overflowing in her piercing, yet helpless gaze. 

Gray’s eyes widened, the sight before him caused his breath to catch itself in his throat.

“I-it was a secret mission.” He looked away, bringing the blank look back to his face. “It was to get more info on Zeref. I had to go, and Erza told me I couldn’t tell or bring anyone.”

Juvia’s tears fell onto her face, and then onto the floor.

“Juvia knows.” Her head was down, once again. She gathered her composure, slightly, for a mere moment. “Juvia understands. Putting and end to Zeref and E.N.D is very important to Gray-sama. This was all for the best.” She sniffled. “So, why..?” She brought her hands up to her eyes, and lost the weak grip she had on herself for that second, and began sobbing into her palms.

“So why is Juvia so hurt?”

Gray said nothing for a brief instant. He looked at her, although she did not return the contact, with shock and sorrow in his eyes. He didn’t know what to think, and he couldn’t place Juvia’s emotions, but he knew what he was feeling.

Remorse, guilt, responsibility, sadness, Gray’s heart was a melting pot of these horrible things. He couldn’t bare to see her in so much pain before, and all because of him. He would not be the reason she shed tears. He refused, especially after all she’d done for him. She was by his side, supporting him through everything. Even after he abandoned her for six months, she still did nothing but be there for him. 

He quickly arose from the bed and wrapped his arms around her, with her hands still covering her eyes, causing her breath to stop in surprise for a second.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry.” His words were soft though his face was flinty. He stared at the wall as he brought his hand up to the back of Juvia’s head, firmly bringing her face to his chest, as he rested his chin atop her.

“G-Gray-sama should not have to apologize.” She shook her head as she sobbed into his chest, her voice muffled.

“Like hell I shouldn’t” His voice was even lower. “So cut the crap. You’re allowed to be sad. From some aspects, what I did,” He paused. “What I did to you was a shity thing. Really shitty.” Her cries were much softer as he spoke. He remembered all the scolding Natsu gave him, and manifested it into his words.“So let me say I’m sorry.” He grumbled through his pouted lips as his cheeks were colored pink.

Juvia finally removed her hands from her face and wrapped her arms around Gray, being encased by his warmth. The warmth that she had missed, so very much.

“It’s ok.” She hummed; her mood was already much better just by appreciating being in Gray’s hold. “Juvia is glad Gray-sama is ok.”

She held on even tighter, and in about a minute, her instincts kicked in. Her mind began to soar with thoughts of Gray, and his big, toned arms that were engulfing her. She subconsciously began to sniff him, and exhale with delight.

“Ahh.” She swooned. “Gray-sama still smells just as delicious as he always has.” She snuggled up against him. 

“O-kay” Gray announced. “That’s enough of that.” He said, avoiding Juvia’s odd comment. He pulled her away from him and turned back to his things. “We should probably head out. The guild isn’t gonna’ rebuild itself.”

“Aw!” Juvia said, defeated, and dramatically slouched over.

“Don’t sound so disappointed cause’ I stopped you from smelling me! Don’t you realize that ain’t normal!?” He exclaimed.

“Juvia doesn’t care about what’s normal! Juvia hasn’t smelled your sweet scent in six whole months! You can’t blame me!” She defended, reaching her arms out for Gray.

“Quit bein’ creepy and meet me in the living room when you’re done packing.” Gray asserted with an annoyed, but familiar look on his face as he quickly made his way out of her room and shut the door, as Juvia sulked on her bed.

They soon packed all of their belongings and walked through their front door, back into the village where a ray of sun peaked through the dispersing clouds.

“Juvia is so sad to say goodbye to she and Gray-sama’s home.” She frowned with exaggerated sniffles.

“I wouldn’t call this a goodbye.” He said frankly. “It’s more like a ‘see-ya-later.’“ He turned to Juvia with a smirk on his face. Her eyes began to glow, and she settled onto a content smile.

“Yes, Gray-sama.” She looked to the ground with her fulfilled smile.

On their walk to the train, Gray grabbed his arms and gave a small shiver.

“It’s gettin’ kinda’ cold out.” He simply said.

Juvia pondered and looked around a little to see any signs of anyone or anything being cold, which she did not, and felt her own body temperature at a fairly normal level, and for Gray especially, this weather was hardly anything.

“Really? Juvia doesn’t think it’s too co-” She turned back to Gray with confusion and quietly gasped as she saw him wrapping himself with a grey, poorly knitted, homey/cozy looking, seemingly worn in scarf. He did not make eye contact with her, and kept his sharp expression on the road ahead.

She knew that scarf all too well.

“Actually, Juvia is a little chilly.” Attempting to keep her overjoyed reaction in line, she simply wrapped her one arm around Gray’s and with the other she reached out and held his hand, causing him to initially flinch, but he kept his hand intertwined with hers.

They made their way to their true home, Fairy Tail, walking in bliss, putting the bad parts of the past behind them and looking to a hopeful future.

One where Juvia’s rain would never return.

[gukyi]

ice prince | jjk

⇒ summary: when, due to inexplicable and total clumsiness, your reliable, talented ice dancing partner of five years breaks his leg right before the largest competition of your life, desperate times call for desperate measures. and for a brief, brief moment, you think that everything might actually end up not-that-shitty, until you find out that the aforementioned desperate measures go by the name of jeon jungkook.

⇒ figure skating!au, enemies to lovers!au

⇒ pairing: jungkook x female reader

⇒ word count: 22k (when will she (i) stop)

⇒ genre: fluff, very minor angst that probably shouldn’t even be listed

⇒ warnings: mentions of bruising + stuff from falling

⇒ a/n: i honestly don’t know what’s wrong with me. one day i’m finishing up a 28k jungkook enemies to lovers fic and suddenly two weeks later i have another 22k jungkook enemies to lovers fic on my hands. tagging @cinnaminsvga​ and @workofteaguk​ as a thanks for the support and my relentless screaming!

⇒ DISCLAIMER: i am not a professional figure skater and this does not accurately represent the lives of professional figure skaters. it’s a fic, for fuck’s sake. don’t take the logistics of it seriously.

check out the post-script drabble here!

It starts with a broken leg.

For someone so skilled at figure skating, so easily able to do leaps and twirls and lifts, Kim Taehyung is one hell of a klutz. He can’t walk without tripping over himself at least once on a good day, so imagine combining that with black ice on the roads from a terrible snowstorm the prior day. It’s the bad kind of snow, too, the kind that turns into slush when it hits the pavement, dirty slush that freezes over in the night to wreak all sorts of havoc.

Kim Taehyung texts you, two months before the biggest competition you’ve ever had in all of your years of ice dancing, and says:

[9:59 PM] rice dancer #1: remember how i was gonna go on that date after practice today?

[10:01 PM] you: o my god yes!!! how did it go!!!

[10:01 PM] rice dancer #1: it went pretty well rice dancer #1: he’s rlly cute and sweet n he wants me to teach him how 2 figure skate

[10:02 PM] you: dam bith look at she go!!! (she is you)

[10:03 PM] rice dancer #1: well,.,. on the way back.,. uh.. rice dancer #1: you know how it’s rly slippery rn

[10:04 PM] you: tae wtf did u do

[10:05 PM] rice dancer #1: i may or may not have slipped on the ice and broken my leg and currently be in the hospital getting a cast

[10:07 PM] you: TAE!!!!!!!!

And that’s the story of how all of your dreams shattered into a billion pieces right in front of your eyes, much like the bones in Taehyung’s leg.

The next day, you skip practice (much to Namjoon and Hoseok’s chagrin, you already know it) to go to the hospital during visitor hours. Taehyung told you he’d only need one day in the hospital before he’d be back on the one foot he’s allowed to use, so you’re making the most out of your visit. You pick up a bouquet of white roses from the local supermarket on your way. Once you register as a guest at the hospital, they bring you to his room, drab cinderblock walls lining the hallways on the way. When the nurse opens his door, you see him happily camped out in the hospital bed, bright orange cast elevated by fifteen pillows as he channel surfs through the hospital’s five different television stations. Taehyung sees you walk in with a murderous look on your face and quickly fumbles to turn off the TV.

“Y/N!” He cheers, though you can easily make out the fear in his eyes. “What… what brings you here?”

“I brought you something,” you say passive-aggressively as you waltz over to him, bouquet hidden behind your back. Taehyung’s face lights up at the notion of the gift, until you pull the flowers into view and hand them to him.

“White roses?” He asks, concerned as he looks down at them. “Don’t these symbolize death?”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Because you’re fucking dead to me, Kim Taehyung!” Storming over, you start beating him with your fist, pounding his shoulders and forehead and chest as he curls into himself, shouting. You take all of your pent-up frustration out on him, not that he doesn’t deserve it.

“Stop! Stop! Y/N! I’m injured! How dare you!” He shouts in between your assaults, hands going up to protect his face from any more damage. You finally release him, standing up and exhaling heavily. You dust off your fingers before your arms cross in front of your chest.

“You deserved that,” you tell him honestly. “You little piece of shit.”

“I’m sorry, alright,” Taehyung says, wincing in pain as he adjusts himself so that he can sit up in his bed and face you properly. “Believe me, this hurts me just as much as it hurts you. And not just physically.”

“God, Taehyung,” you say, sighing deeply as your palms come up to your cheeks. You have no idea what the hell you’re supposed to do now that Taehyung’s incapacitated. Nationals is in two months and Taehyung, your ice dancing partner since you were fourteen, has a broken tibia. “What are we gonna do?” You ask him as you collapse onto his bed.

Taehyung leans over to rub your back. “We’ll be alright, Y/N. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Everything is not okay. You walk into the ice rink, helping Taehyung hobble around on the crutches he claims are outrageously uncomfortable (even though when offered a wheelchair, he had declined and said he needs to keep being mobile), to some very concerned coaches. Taehyung’s still got a bright smile on his face, one to match his fluorescent orange cast, but it’s obvious that the both of you have had a rough twenty-four hours, and it’s about to get even rougher.

“Look at you guys,” Namjoon says as he walks over, baseball cap on his head and clipboard in his hand. “Such good sports.”

“Hey, Coach,” Taehyung says awkwardly as you walk him over to a nearby bench. “Sorry about the, uh, unexpected turn of events.”

“It’s okay, Taehyung,” Namjoon says, patting his back with the wood of the clipboard. “It’s not your fault.”

Taehyung turns to you with his eyebrows raised, petty look on his face as if to say, “see, at least someone knows that I’m not the one to blame.” You scoff, hitting him lightly in the shoulder. It’s definitely his fault. What a klutz.

“What do we do, Coach?” You ask desperately, turning to Namjoon.

His eyes scan from you, to the rink, to Taehyung’s cast, to his clipboard. “It’s up to you, really.”

“Can we still drop out of the competition?” You ask, eyes wide.

“Drop out?” Taehyung asks, brows knitted together. He shoots up, nearly toppling over on his shattered leg and grabbing your arm for support. You jump at the contact, hands darting out to steady his body so he doesn’t break anything else.

“Yeah, drop out,” you repeat, nodding as you hold onto him. “I don’t wanna do the competition when my partner’s in a cast.”

Taehyung gapes at you like you’ve just suggested you perform your ice dancing program in the Mars polar ice caps. “But you’re so close! Nationals is two months away!” He says, seemingly outraged at the fact that you want to leave the competition despite the fact that his leg is literally wrapped up in plaster.

“Nationals is two months away and you can’t even walk!” You exclaim in return, making a show of the crutches he’s hobbling around on. “I don’t wanna do the damn program without you. You’re my partner.”

“But you could win this year!” Taehyung insists, tugging on your arm in desperation.

You nod. You could win this year. The program that Namjoon and Hoseok have come up with is gold-medal-worthy. And the fact that Taehyung is standing in front of you with a cast on his leg and crutches under his arms makes tears well up in your eyes. It’s like running through a tunnel without the end ever appearing in your view. It’s like climbing a tree and never being able to reach the highest branch. It’s like seeing the finish line within your grasp but never getting there.

“I know, I know,” you say dejectedly, looking down to your feet. “But there’s always next year, when you’re better.”

Taehyung looks scandalized.

“Hoe, don’t do it,” Taehyung says, grasping onto your arm and looking hopelessly into your eyes. It’s easily the most romantic thing that the two of you have ever done together, and you’ve been ice dancing together for five years.

“Hoe, I’m gonna do it,” you say in response, placing your palm atop his. “I don’t want to perform without you.”

“You have been working really hard these past few months to perfect your routine,” Namjoon supplies unhelpfully, his reason getting the better of him. Can’t he just let you mope around about your lost gold medal in peace? “I would easily be able to recruit someone to be your partner in his place.”

“But—” You say, already knowing fully well that you’re eventually going to cave into their requests. The look on Taehyung’s face is too heartbreaking for you to have to keep staring at it, even if competing in Nationals means you won’t do it with him. What will he do without you? What will you do without him? You know each other’s bodies, motions, touches like the backs of your hands, you skate together so effortlessly, as if you were a single person. What will happen when that sense of security is removed? When you skate with someone foreign, a feeling you won’t recognize.

“Seriously, Y/N. You have a real shot at getting gold, and if not, at least being on the podium,” Namjoon continues. “You’ve never been more prepared for something like this.”

“But if I don’t compete, we’ll have more time to prepare for next year?” You suggest, grimacing as you hunch your shoulders. Taehyung, if possible, looks like he’s about to take his hand off of the crutch keeping him in place just to sock you in the side. It’s clear that you’re about to cave in and that any last-ditch efforts to drop out will ultimately fail, but there’s no harm in reaching for the unreachable anyway.

“Y/N,” Taehyung says, frowning. He’s staring at you with that disappointed look on your face, the one he always gives you whenever you make a terrible pun about ice skating or tease him about his love life. “Do it.”

“Why are you so adamant about this?” You ask him, a final attempt to see if you can sway him. “Your leg is broken and you can’t compete. What’s it to you if I do?”

“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” Taehyung says, as if he thinks you need some sort of reminder. You’re not gonna forget the fact that the two of you have been glued at the hip for years now, before you even became ice dancing partners. “You’ve been dreaming for years about getting gold, and it’s right in front of you. I’m not gonna stop you from achieving your goal.”

You look to him, shoulders sinking. You know you’ve lost, you know that Taehyung’s good-hearted nature, Namjoon’s sage words of advice, and your unrelenting desire to win are all keeping you in this competition, even without the one person you couldn’t replace if you tried.

“Fine,” you say, sighing as Taehyung and Namjoon high-five each other. “I’ll stay in the competition, but only because I know you’re gonna be whining about it for the next twelve decades if I don’t.”

Taehyung smiles. “Works for me!”

“I guess I need to go get geared up then, Coach?” You ask, your hand coming down to pat the duffel bag on your shoulder. You come prepared. “Who’s gonna be Tae’s replacement?”

“Go get changed,” Namjoon says, motioning to the locker room across the rink. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re gonna kick everyone’s asses, Y/N!” Taehyung calls as you trudge off, already regretting this decision. “Mine included!”

The pale blue door to the locker rooms opens ten minutes later as you walk out, skates and practice clothes on. On the other side of the rink, you see Taehyung and Namjoon talking with an indistinct third person, who you are assuming is going to be your partner for the next two months. You can’t quite make out who it is, but as you walk over, you quickly rack your brain for all of the other ice dancers that might be Namjoon’s choice, though you can’t come up with any that match the person in question.

Slowly, you approach the group, watching as Taehyung laughs to something that said indistinct third person has said. He must be an ice dancer, since regular figure skaters don’t know some of the tricks that ice dancers engage in and pairs skaters are too busy trying to throw themselves around on the ice to pay attention to ice dancing.

And then, he comes into view.

“Y/N!” Taehyung cries as he pulls you into his body, wrapping an arm around you as you’re pressed up against his crutch as it digs uncomfortably into your back. “Namjoon’s got your guy,” he says happily, motioning to him. “This is—”

“Jeon Jungkook?” You ask as your mouth drops open, eyes blinking wildly at the offending figure in front of you.

He’s standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest, like him having to ice dance is such an inconvenience to the rest of his daily activities. You didn’t even know he could ice dance. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been the company’s top male figure skater, so skilled on the ice because his heart is practically made out of it. All of the awards he’s won have gone to his head at this point, and you make an effort every day you are at the rink to not have to interact with him in any way.

“Don’t look so disappointed to see me, Y/N,” Jungkook drawls, making you roll your eyes. This is why you try to avoid him at all costs, and here he is, as your future ice dancing partner. “I’m doing this for you.”

“You’re doing this because Coach is forcing you too, but alright, whatever helps you sleep at night,” you respond, avoiding his gaze.

“I’m willingly giving up my time as a figure skater to help you at Nationals and you don’t even care? Some partner you are,” Jungkook says, scoffing as he turns away from you. He’s tapping his guard-cladded skate on the floor in disinterest, each click slowly rapping away at each rational thought in your brain.

You exhale, turning to stare up at Jungkook with fire in your eyes and rage in your heart, and you storm out of the rink, marching off in anger since you know that any more time spent with him and you’ll probably explode. The biting cold of the winter air has no effect on you as you cool down outside, letting your breathing come to a steady beat as you close your eyes, taking in the breeze.

Of course, out of all of the people in the world, you had to be paired up with Jeon Jungkook. Your luck’s always been rotten. First, Taehyung breaks his leg, second, your replacement partner ends up being the one skater at the company you make conscientious efforts to avoid whenever possible. Sometimes, Life’s funny that way, how she teases you and makes you think that everything is going swimmingly before she dumps a whole bunch of oil into the water. That’s what this is, having to work with Jungkook or kissing your medal goodbye. Oil in the water.

You don’t hear the door open, too consumed in your own thoughts to care, until you feel a hand on your shoulder. Whipping around, you half-expect it to be Jungkook, coming out to give you some snooty remark about giving up before prancing back to his solo activities. But instead, it’s Taehyung.

“You okay?” He asks, a soft hand placed on your shoulder as the other clings onto his crutch for dear life. He’s still getting the hang of using them.

“I’m a little salted,” you say bitingly.

“A little?” Taehyung says skeptically, eyebrows raised as he takes in your vengeful expression. “Dude, you’re practically boiling over with N-A-C-L. You might want to tone that down a bit.”

“I just—ugh!” You cry, kicking the air with your skate and hoping that your guard hasn’t broken from the force. Nothing is going right, it seems, from Taehyung breaking his leg to you being coerced into staying in the competition to finding out that of all people on this godforsaken Earth, you’ve been re-paired up with Jeon Jungkook, Ice Prince. All you can do is resort to physical aggression as you punch and kick the world around you as a big “fuck you” to whatever higher being is up there, fucking with you. “This sucks ass. I wanna drop out again.”

“Y/N, come on,” Taehyung says, soft hand on the small of your back. “You don’t wanna do that.”

“I do,” you say, nodding. Maybe you’re being too impulsive, but right now you and Jungkook can’t even have a conversation without the biting ice breaking through his words, and you don’t necessarily think that’s the best way to build trust for a sport so reliant on teamwork. “I can’t fucking stand him, Tae. I didn’t even know he could ice dance! Since when would anybody want to work with him?”

“That’s it, Y/N,” Taehyung says in his best group therapist voice. He rubs your back to keep the rest of you grounded as your head flies off into outer space. “Get fucking pissed now so you won’t later.”

“Tae, I wanna pull a stereotypical pop-punk band member and drop out,” you whine, clutching onto his arm as you begin to sink down into a sad squat.

Taehyung tugs you up, his strength even with a broken leg as he balances two crutches much heftier than yours. “You don’t really wanna drop out though, do you?” He asks sincerely even though he already knows the answer. “There’s a reason Coach picked Jungkook. It’s because he’s a god on the ice, you know that. With him, you’re guaranteed a medal. Don’t you want that?”

“But is a medal worth all of the suffering he will inevitably put me through? Because if I skin him alive before we can go to Nationals, he’s gonna die and I’m gonna have to deal with the repercussions,” you remind Taehyung.

“Please don’t skin him alive, he’s got a hoard of fangirls swarming him and his social media on the daily,” Taehyung says, mildly alarmed especially considering your slightly sarcastic yet also totally serious nature. Sometimes, he can’t tell if you’re joking or not, and that’s kind of the best part. Like right now. “They’ll murder you in an alleyway and I’ll never be able to see your dumbass face again.”

“This is all your fault, you fucker,” you tell him sharply. “If you weren’t such a clumsy little—”

“It was slippery and he was cute, alright? He asked me for my number. That’s important,” Taehyung says in return, staring you down. “Are you saying that you would rather me die than get a love life?”

“I’m not not saying that.”

“He’s not that bad, Y/N,” Taehyung says, sighing. “You can get through the next two months with him no problem.”

“Don’t you dislike him just as much?” You ask, thinking back to a multitude of prior occurrences where Taehyung has voiced his disdain for the self-proclaimed Ice Prince, when you were walking out of practice, watching him on the rink, passing him by at regional competitions. This is why it’s so peculiar to see him encouraging you to follow through with this heinous plan, because it’s not like Taehyung likes Jungkook any more than you do.

Alright, maybe a little more. You don’t know what it is about Jungkook but his entire existence just rubs you the wrong way. Cold, aloof, entitled, and kind of a major asshole.

“He’s not as bad as I once thought he was,” Taehyung says warily, finally realizing that maybe he should be careful of what words he chooses to use in front of you when discussing whatever relationship you share with Jeon Jungkook, for the sake of his own safety if nothing else.

You smack his shoulder, mildly offended. Taehyung gasps, unable to rub his shoulder due to his inexperience with casts and the fact that he will definitely fall on his ass if he removes his hand from the aluminum. “You’re taking his side?”

Taehyung frowns. “I’m taking Coach’s side.”

If there was a way for your eyeballs to roll so far back in your head you would be able to hear them jingling around, loose in your skull, it would have already happened by now. “Don’t get all philosophical on me, Tae. It’s not that deep.”

“But Coach says that—and I agree with him—if you don’t do this, it’ll turn into a lost opportunity. You’re gonna regret this for the rest of your life if you don’t suck it up and do it,” Taehyung says softly, looking at you with delicate eyes.

You sigh, shoulders sinking as you slouch. “But he’s such a dickshit, Taehyung,” you whine, unable to come up with a better excuse for your desire to drop out once more.

“Damn, I don’t even think you’ve called me that,” Taehyung comments mindlessly. “Come on, Y/N,” he says, and he’s starting to get that antsy tone in his voice again, like a child begging their mother for a 25¢ gumball from the machine in the corner of the supermarket. “Please? I wanna see my best friend get a medal.”

He’s wearing you down and you know it, too, but you cross your arms and look away, refusing to give into his pleads.

“Pretty, pretty please? With a hazelnut Pirouette stick because I know how much you hate those candied cherries? For me?”

It’s always Taehyung that wears you down. He could, with enough whining, probably convince you to kill a man. Maybe this is a sign that you should stop being best friends with him, because you turn into putty in his hands every time he opens his mouth and he is a terrible person who abuses that knowledge and utilizes it to his advantage as much as possible.

“You’re a little piece of shit,” you say, but Taehyung knows you well enough to know that that’s code for “I give in, Taehyung you asshole,” and so he cheers.

“Yes!”

“I swear to the lord Jesus Christ and all of his dudebros that when you get out of that cast I’m beating you the fuck up,” you hiss, and Taehyung simply giggles. He knows you’re not serious, as menacing as you can be with glittery purple skate guards on your feet.

If Taehyung didn’t have crutches under his arms and a cast the color of a creamsicle on his leg, he’d probably be happily skipping into the skate rink. Reluctantly, you follow him inside after opening the door for him and spot Ice Prince and your coach chatting by the rink, Jungkook already geared up and ready to go.

“Got her!” Taehyung shouts loudly, causing several heads to turn to him as he meets Namjoon’s eyes with a crinkly grin. He motions to you, and you can tell that the contrast between his enthusiastic expression and your begrudging one must be amusing, if Jungkook trying to disguise his chuckles is anything to go by. “We got her, Coach! She’s in!”

“Shout it louder, would you? I don’t think enough of Antarctica has heard,” you say sarcastically, earning a teasing nose-scrunch from Taehyung in return as the two of you march up.

“Caved in?” Jungkook asks, sly smirk on his face as he looks you up and down, takes in your twitching features and glares back with as much force as you are him. “I suppose I’m not as repulsive as you thought I was.”

You scoff, brushing right by him as you tug off your skate guards and hop on the ice to warm up. If you’re gonna do this, might as well bite the bullet. “Oh, that’s sweet,” you call as you begin to skate figure-eights across the rink. “You think I’m doing this for you.”

Jungkook chuckles to himself, taking your arrival on the ice as something akin to a challenge. He removes his skate guards and joins you, gladly whizzing around on the ice alongside you as the two of you already find yourselves in a competition of sorts. This is precisely why you can’t work with him.

“Babe,” Jungkook says, catching your attention as you slow down ever so slightly—not enough for him to actually notice you paying attention to what words leave his lips—to listen to him. The pet name falls from his mouth with ease and sends shivers down your spine. “I don’t give a shit about whether or not you’re doing this for me, because either way I get another National medal to add to my collection. How many times can you say that about yourself?” Jungkook grins a shit-eating grin, and it makes you want to skate over and sock him in the jaw. “Oh, that’s right, none.”

You’re going to murder Taehyung once he gets out of that cast.

It’s obvious from the getgo that you and Jungkook cannot work together. Namjoon and Hoseok, your gracious and talented choreographer, had held out hope that you would be able to put aside your differences for three hours every day just so he could learn the routine and you could both move on with your lives, but it’s clear that’s not the case. Because the second time the two of you meet on the ice, you are forced to skate around holding hands to get a feel for the other’s touch, and you are stiff and cold the entire time.

Jungkook’s touch is too foreign for your taste. He is too foreign for your taste. He doesn’t feel like Taehyung, lacks his over-moisturized hands and the warmth that radiates from his body. He holds your hand with tension in his body, unnatural and distant. He doesn’t hold it like he’s supposed to, like how boys are supposed to hold girls’ hands, like how ice dancers are supposed to melt into each other’s touch. He holds it because he has to.

It doesn’t take a genius to note that the two of you are talented in your sport. You can both skate flawlessly, gliding around on the ice without clashing blades. It’s not difficult for the two of you to skate in time, in rhythm, but that means nothing if you cannot skate together.

And that is what Namjoon is thinking as he voices his concerns to Hoseok right next to him, as the two of them watch you and Jungkook skate gracefully yet emotionlessly around the rink.

“Should we be worried about them, Hoseok?” Namjoon asks, eyebrows knitted together as he watches the both of you. You’re talking, but it’s strikingly obvious that you’re not enjoying the conversation in front of you. In fact, you both look quite disgruntled in the presence of the other. This does not bode well.

Hoseok heaves, not taking his eyes of the two of you. He looks down at the way the two of you are holding hands, how unrealistic it seems, how contrived it appears, and he sighs. “We might need to be, Joon. There’s no chemistry whatsoever. In fact, it doesn’t look like they like each other very much at all.”

“Shit,” Namjoon says, a hand coming up to rub at his temple. He’s worked tirelessly with you and Jungkook for years to get you into your top spots, and he refuses to see you crumble now just because of an accident. “What are we going to do, Hoseok? We can’t have ice dancing partners that hate each other.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Hoseok says, and Namjoon can practically see the light bulb illuminating above his fading red hair. “We can use that raw emotion.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to re-choreograph their entire routine,” Namjoon says, eyes pleading.

Hoseok grins, standing a little taller with his hands happily planted on his hips. “I am. But only a little. I need a new song…”

Namjoon watches as Hoseok begins to wander off, pointer finger tapping his chin as he contemplates how he’s going to edit the routine to make it fit the meshing personalities of you and Jungkook. He will admit, the fact that Hoseok has decided to change the program with so little time left before Nationals has him nearly on the floor, but when he looks up and sees you bickering away with Jungkook as you skate laps together, hands glued shut, he supposes it might not be such a bad idea after all.

“Oh my God, I can’t do this.” You sigh in anger, skating away from Jungkook so as to cool down. You reach your hands up to rub at your temples, eyes shut tight as you let your frustration subside. “God, do you even know how to ice dance?”

“Do you?” Jungkook counters, clearly just as exasperated as you.

The very fact that Jungkook is even insinuating that after nearly fourteen years of skating and ten years of ice dancing you still lack the necessary skills to, you know, ice dance, makes you want to remove your skate from your foot and chuck it at his head. You roll your eyes, throwing your hands up to the sky in anguish as you glide up to Namjoon, who looks like he’s having a mid-life crisis.

“Coach, I can’t work with him!” You exclaim. “I can’t! There’s no connection. It’s like working with a robot on ice skates.”

There’s the sound of ice being shredded, and when you whip your head around you see Jungkook coming to a quick halt across the way.

“She’s not much better, you know!” calls Jungkook mindlessly, earning a glare from you before you turn back to face your poor overworked, underpaid coach.

“Do you see what I have to work with?” You ask, motioning to Jungkook as he launches off into some quads and twists, only further proving your point that he is a self-absorbed, entitled dickhead who, if he’s so good at single skating, should just go back to the category he wins in rather than wasting his time with you.

“Calm down, Y/N. Don’t get so worked up about this,” Namjoon says patiently.

“It’s been two weeks since Hoseok showed us the ‘new and improved’ choreography—” You begin, making hand quotes around the words to show your budding distaste for change, “—and we can’t get a single one of the lifts down.”

“At least the two of you can do the twizzles,” Namjoon supplies unhelpfully, always like him to search for the silver lining in this trainwreck of a performance.

“Woohoo,” you deadpan.

“Listen, Y/N, I trust the both of you. I know that the two of you can do great things together. There’s a reason that I selected him to be your ice dancing partner. You’re capable of greatness,” Namjoon insists, only making you roll your eyes further.

“Am I being punished for Taehyung’s clumsiness, Coach? Is that it?” You groan, your head tilting back in vexation. You know Namjoon means well, he really does, but you fail to see where on Earth he thought pairing the two of you up for a national competition would be a good idea.

“You’re not being punished,” Namjoon tells you.

“If you want to win gold for Nationals, don’t you think that maybe you should spend more time practicing and less time shit-talking your partner?” Jungkook’s voice rings out in the echoey ice rink, and it makes you sigh. Turning around, you see him casually executing a catch-foot camel spin, and it makes you want to knock him right off his center of balance and watch him crash into the ice.

“He’s right, Y/N,” Namjoon says as you begrudgingly skate back over to Jungkook, willing yourself to just through the next few hours by his side before you can go home and take a much-needed bubble bath.

Hoseok joins you not much later, happily skating on the ice as he begins to coach you through the choreography. It’s much more technical than you’re used to, aimed at getting you the highest score possible, but it’s also filled with an overwhelming amount of raw emotion, something you tend to shy away from when dealing with programs. Hoseok’s always been known to step out of the box, though, so this really should come as no surprise.

With the feeling of Jungkook’s frozen hands on your waist, Hoseok guides the both of you around the rink.

“Five, six, seven, eight, one, two, up—!”

“Ow! Not there, you dumbass!” You cry when Jungkook pinches you a little too hard, causing you to stumble and fall on your knees. “Jesus H. Christ,” you say, frowning as you get up and dust yourself off.

“You okay, Y/N?” Hoseok asks, reaching out a hand as you skate to warm yourself up again.

“’M fine,” you say, albeit a little bitter.

“Alright, again, same spot,” Hoseok orders as you line up with him again.

Jungkook grips your waist too tightly at this part, the tension causing you to stumble on your next turn, but at least you can move onto the next major part of your routine without any more flubs or cries of indignation.

Almost the entire program does Jungkook touch you in some sort of way, whether it be a hand on your waist, hip, shoulder, fingers interlocked with yours, or holding onto you for a lift. You know that you’ll get used to it eventually, the feeling of his body heat radiating onto yours, but after five years of constant contact with Taehyung, it’s difficult to change course.

Still, he does not purposely attempt to make your routine any more unbearable or difficult out of spite. He can do that with his words, not his actions. At least he’s making a solid effort to get this routine down.

“Seven, eight, lift!” Hoseok says when the two of you are skating with such momentum as you approach the halfway-mark of your free-skate program.

Jungkook pulls you up, just as you had practiced before, and your skate finds purchase in the thick material of his clothing. You are both experienced enough in this skill to not cut right through his clothing (and perhaps his skin as well), a careful hand on your thigh as he holds you up, and you think you might actually be able to stick this landing…

Until, on the way down, his elbow accidentally knocks into your shin, and the two of you collapse in a puddle on the ice.

“Fuck!” He mutters to himself, swearing as he pulls at his limbs that are entangled in yours.

You sit up as well, rubbing your sore arms as you feel the bruises blossoming on your legs.

“Whoa, you guys alright?” Hoseok asks, brows furrowed in concern as he holds a hand out to lift you up. You gladly take it, pulling yourself back onto your feet as you begin to dust off the patches of ice that have gathered on your leggings. “That was some fall. And it wasn’t even the worst lift.”

“I’m fine,” you say bitingly, “we could probably get it, if it weren’t for Jungkook not knowing where to put his hands.”

“Oh yes, pile all of the blame on me, the nationally-ranked figure skater who made a simple mistake that he can fix in an instant,” Jungkook retorts bitterly, adjusting the sleeves of his fleece jacket as he skates off to cool down.

“Uh, if you guys are alright, wanna run that again?”

“I don’t know about his bruised ego, but I’m cool to do it again,” you comment, loud enough so that he hears you even from his position across the rink.

“Do you just have a thing for insulting me?” Jungkook asks. “Because that’s no way to treat the person who’s going to lead you to gold at Nationals,” he tells you pointedly, hands on his hips as the two of you prepare to rehearse the stunt all over again.

“Please,” you scoff, “I’m the reason you’re even going to Nationals for ice dancing.”

“Oh, yeah, your partner breaking his leg is a real achievement to boast about,” Jungkook retorts.

“Don’t fucking talk about Taehyung,” you spit.

“Okay, you guys, cut the chit-chat,” Hoseok says, probably more for his own sake than yours or Jungkook’s. “We’re doing this one more time, from the camel, and then practice is over for the day,” he says warily, skating over to the panel that controls the music and turning it on.

Everything goes much better the second time, the lift being not nearly as tragic as Jungkook carefully places you back down on the ice and you skate into your next trick. You actually don’t think it’s half bad, that is, until you hear the music abruptly stop and Hoseok skate up to you with a disappointed look on his face.

“Wasn’t that good, Hoseok?” You ask, maneuvering your way to the exit of the rink and grabbing your skate guards.

“It was okay,” Hoseok says, sharing a knowing look with Namjoon, who’s been observing the both of you this entire time.

“Just okay?” You ask, confused. “We landed the lift.”

“Just go get changed, Y/N and Jungkook,” Namjoon says, motioning for the two of you to head to the locker rooms. “We’ll talk to you guys about how you can improve your routines afterwards.”

You sigh, grabbing your coat from the bench as you make your way towards the locker rooms.

“This is all your fault, you know,” you say petulantly, eyeing Jungkook as you give his shoulder a rough shove.

“Excuse me? I wasn’t the one spewing out blame for a one mistake,” Jungkook challenges. “One!”

You sigh, deciding that continuing to bicker with Jungkook won’t change the outcome of the conversation you’re about to have with Namjoon and Hoseok anyway, and you head into the locker rooms to get out of your skates and calm yourself down. You can deal with Jungkook later. That is, if you have enough brainpower left to do so.

Namjoon and Hoseok have their Serious Faces on as you emerge from the locker rooms, Jungkook coming out of his at the same time, duffel bag slung over his bare shoulder. You wonder how Jungkook can be walking around in a muscle tee with his biceps on display for the world to ogle at (but not you, ugh!) in the middle of winter, but then again, he is the Ice Prince after all.

“What did you want to talk to us about, Coach?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head in interest as the two of you approach them.

“We were just discussing the trust factor in your program,” Hoseok says.

“What ‘trust factor’?” You say, wary of whatever criticism is to come.

“Y/N, do you trust Jungkook?” Namjoon says, getting straight to the point.

“No.” The answer is as easy as if someone were to ask if you supported cannibalism, or pineapple on pizza.

“Jungkook, do you trust Y/N?”

“Well, since trust is a two-way street, no,” Jungkook says. It’s the first time you think you’ve ever agreed on something.

Hoseok and Namjoon share a knowing look, one you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. Jungkook turns to face you and you shrug, happy to see that there are no hard feelings as related to the fact that neither of you trust each other despite literally being ice dancing partners. You don’t know what Namjoon and Hoseok were expecting when they asked you that question, especially given how openly you’ve voiced your opinions on Jungkook before. Were they hoping for a “yes”?

“That’s exactly the problem,” Hoseok says. “You guys don’t trust each other. What’s an ice dancing routine without trust? You have to rely on each other the entire time.”

“Well, we were able to do some of the routine today,” you point out, electing to ignore the part where the two of you just completely fell on top of each other. “Why would trust be necessary?”

“Your routine is… hmm, how do I say this nicely?” Hoseok begins.

“Emotionless,” Namjoon cuts in. “It’s emotionless. You might as well be animatronics,” he continues. “Trust builds not only the routine but it builds the emotion within it. You guys are very talented skaters but there is no way in hell that you will even get onto the podium without trust, passion, or emotion. The lack of chemistry is what will bring you down, and I know neither of you want to walk away from Nationals without even bronze.”

“How are we supposed to fix that?” You ask, hesitant. You dislike the path that this conversation is leading you on. “You can’t shove five years of experience and progressively-built trust into six weeks.”

“Exactly,” Hoseok says.

“Which is why we’re staging a Trust Intervention for the both of you. You hardly know each other as people, only as skaters, and we need to fix that,” Namjoon declares, blatantly proud of the plan he’s formulated. His confidence has your eyes wide in worry, and when you turn to Jungkook, it’s clear he’s not looking forward to whatever the two of your coaches have in store for you either.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask.

“You guys are going to get to know each other by going out on dates.”

Your jaw drops. Dates?

“And I don’t care how awkward it’s going to be, because you guys are going to do it anyway. You are going to go out on dates to coffee shops and restaurants and other places where you can actively talk with each other, and you are going to learn about each other,” Namjoon orders, and you know you don’t have a choice. Even if you faked it, Namjoon has the eye of a hawk and he’d easily be able to spot the lack of connection the next time you had practice together.

“You’re kidding,” Jungkook says, blinking profusely. He looks like he’s in shock. You can’t imagine you look much different.

Hoseok looks as equally pleased with the proposal as Namjoon. “You guys have more in common than you both might think, you know,” he says. “Before practice in two days, I want to see you out on one date. You could even drop by the coffee shop down the road before practice. I don’t care. But I need to see that you’ve been on one.”

“Wait, wait, Coach,” you say before Namjoon turns to change his focus towards his Little Skaters group that’s slowly filing in for their own practice. “A date? I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Jungkook adds.

“They don’t necessarily have to have some sort of romantic connotation, calm down,” Namjoon says. “They’re just outings together. You don’t have to hold hands or kiss or hug, or whatever. Just talk. That’s all I ask of you. You guys are dismissed.”

Before you can get in any more questions, Namjoon and Hoseok are turning away from you, greeting the Little Skaters with their voices light and bright and the total opposite of how they were just speaking to you.

You turn to Jungkook in partial shock and partial disgust, already repelled by the mere thought of having to spend more time with him. You couldn’t think of a worse way to spend your time than this.

“Coffee shop, two hours before practice?” Jungkook asks, expressionless.

You shrug. “Fine. See you there, Jeon,” you spit, marching out of practice with a frown on your face.

You don’t know what Namjoon or Hoseok’s game is, but what you do know, is that if they’re expecting for the two of you to form some sort of bond through these forced dates, then they couldn’t be more wrong.

What kind of bond could be forged between you and Jeon Jungkook? Not even in your nightmares could you imagine putting your trust in his hands.

Two days later, you catch Jungkook in the coffeeshop as he’s waiting at the end of the line to order, staring up the menu above his head and tapping his foot to the beat of the soft pop that plays through the speakers that decorate each corner of the room.

“Ordering without me?” You ask, joining him, with an eyebrow raised. “So gentleman-y.”

“You were taking too long,” Jungkook responds curtly. “I don’t drink coffee anyway, so I wanted to see what this place has.”

“You don’t drink coffee…” you begin, “and we’re in a coffee shop?”

“They have things other than coffee.” Jungkook frowns.

“Alright, whatever you say,” you say distantly, rolling your eyes as the woman in front of you moves to the side to wait for her drink. “Hi, can I get a medium latte, whole milk? And light foam, please.”

The barista nods tapping away at the computer in front of her before motioning to Jungkook.

“Small hot chocolate,” Jungkook says quickly, grabbing his wallet from the back of his pocket.

“I can pay for mine,” you insist, fumbling with the loose bills shoved into your jeans, but Jungkook shakes his head, handing over his card without even giving you so much as a glance. You stand there, at a loss for words as Jungkook casually pays for your obnoxious drink without a second thought.

“This is stupid,” you say mindlessly as you wait for your drinks at the pick-up station. “I don’t know how Coach thinks anything is going to improve if we spend more time together.”

“If Coach really wanted us to loosen up around each other, he should have given us a bottle of vodka and ten minutes,” Jungkook jokes, making you laugh.

“Please,” you scoff, “I bet you have the alcohol tolerance level of a baby goose.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

You roll your eyes, already finding yourselves falling into the distinct rhythm of bicker, bicker, bicker. This is precisely why you knew that whatever plan Namjoon had brewing in his brain wouldn’t work, because if you can’t get past petty insults and snarky comments, how are you supposed to connect with each other?

When you’ve got your drinks, you take refuge in a table by the window of the shop, giving you a glorious view of the angry pedestrians and angrier cars, hooting their way around town. What a sight.

Jungkook sips his drink slowly, savoring each sip. When he’s not drinking, he’s leaning back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the wooden table between you and avoiding your gaze, red scarf wrapped up neatly around his neck and complimenting the red buttons on his peacoat with ease. Without him opening his mouth and ruining the entire vibe of the scenery, he actually looks quite nice. But don’t tell him that.

Meanwhile, you are ungracefully downing your entire medium latte without another shot, craving each gram of caffeine that enters your body. Maybe it is two o’clock in the afternoon, but you are regularly awake until midnight and you also will need all of the energy you can get if you have to deal with a skating Jungkook for the next five hours.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Excuse me?” You ask, coughing slightly as your coffee goes down the wrong pipe in surprise.

“What’s your favorite color?” Jungkook repeats, dead serious. “Coach said we have to get to know each other. Answer the question.”

You’ve never heard someone sound so stern when asking what your favorite color is.

“Yellow. Yours?” You ask, wiping the foam away from the corner of your lips with your sleeve.

“Red.”

“I probably could have figured that out,” you comment mindlessly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungkook asks, quirking an eyebrow in offense as he looks at you.

“Look at you, Jeon. You’re covered in red from head to toe. It doesn’t take a genius to guess,” you say, motioning from his scarf down his torso. Even his cheeks are read, burning from the mixture of the heat from the coffee shop and the winter from outside.

“Well,” Jungkook begins, shuffling himself around with his hot chocolate cup held tightly in his hand. “I look good in it.”

“Is that your reasoning?” You ask, appalled.

“Do you deny it?” Jungkook retorts, smirk on his face as he watches your expression change from shocked to accosted. You’d never admit to Jungkook that he actually looks good, sitting in front of you with the bright red wrapped around him complimenting his skin tone, the shade of his eyes. You’d rather keel over and die in this very coffee shop.

“I—” You say, speechless.

“So you don’t?”

“Why do you care what I think about you? I thought you were just in this for the medal,” you counter, reminding Jungkook of his own words with a pointed expression.

“I never said I cared about if you think I’m hot, though it is nice to know that you do,” Jungkook responds.

“I never said that,” you say.

“You didn’t need to,” Jungkook says with a shrug, taking an extended sip of his hot chocolate while you sit there, racking your brain for an equally good, if not better, riposte to his obnoxiously self-centered comments. How have they left your mind empty? You had always thought it impossible for a man to leave you speechless, but clearly, you just hadn’t spoken to Jeon Jungkook yet. “What, no response?” He asks, teasing lilt decorating his words.

“Sorry, too busy thinking of all of the ways I can skin you alive after Nationals,” you say, fist up at at the ready. You reach over to punch him in the shoulder, but Jungkook’s reflexes are much too quick for your liking and he grabs a hold of your wrist before your hand can collide with his coat.

“Don’t get too excited, Y/N,” Jungkook warns, keeping his grip on you tight. “Maybe we’ll do so well at Nationals that you won’t want to kill me anymore. You might even want to keep being my partner, how about that?”

You scoff. “In your dreams, Jeon. You and I both know we wouldn’t be able to stand each other for more than a season at a time, if that.”

“Who knows,” Jungkook says, leaning across the table. The sheer proximity intimidates you, how his face is hovering hardly a finger’s length away from yours. This close, you can make out the golden specks decorating his irises, and the lines on his lips—

Shut up! What are you doing thinking about Jeon Jungkook’s lips?

“Things can change,” Jungkook hums, grinning smugly before getting up from his seat and taking his empty cup with him.

You’re left there, sitting in the dust as the conversation settles around you, unable to process even a single thing that just happened. Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook’s eyes. Jeon Jungkook’s lips.

Jeon Jungkook’s ego that is roughly the size of Madagascar.

You sigh, exhaling heavily as you gather your belongings and make to leave as well, tossing your empty cup in the bin on the way out.

Things can change, but how much are you willing to let them?

“There’s the happy couple!”

Your tired eyes light up at the sound of a familiar voice, and you turn to see Taehyung happily crutch-ing his way over to you. By now, he’s mastered the art of not falling while requiring the use of crutches, so you don’t have to baby him anymore.

“Tae!” You exclaim, happy to see the one person who is most definitely keeping you grounded during this time of torture.

“How’s it going?” He asks happily, not having been at the rink since the day you found out you’d have to be partnered up with Jeon Jungkook.

You turn to Jungkook, who’s already begun walking off in the direction of the locker with little demonstrated interest in the conversation you are about to have with Taehyung, for whatever reason. Taehyung shrugs at the two of you watch Jungkook trudge off, neither happy nor sad.

“What’s his deal?” Taehyung asks, pointing his crutch in Jungkook’s direction.

“He constantly has a gigantic stick up his ass,” you remark, making Taehyung giggle. “No, I don’t know. I guess he just wants to get to practice.”

“Wow, so dedicated,” Taehyung says, shaking his head. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.”

“How much do you hate Jeon Jungkook?” Taehyung rephrases his question.

“Very much,” you inform him. “Actually, only a lot much, now. It’s getting better,” you tell him regretfully, knowing how much he’s going to rub in your face the fact that he was the one who told you that it wouldn’t actually be that bad.

“See, I told you!” Taehyung exclaims, a “you should have believed me when I said so!” expression on his face. “I knew it wouldn’t actually be that bad. You’re just so fucking overdramatic, always have been,” Taehyung reminds you.

“Want me to give you another broken leg, Taehyung?” You threaten weakly, fist balled up with a teasing smile on your face. Taehyung pretends to wince before laughing alongside you. “God, I can’t wait for you to be able to get on the ice again.”

“Me neither,” Taehyung admits wistfully, watching as some of the other skaters practice gracefully on the rink, less advanced but just as devoted as you, Jungkook, or Taehyung. “I’m getting that itch under my skin. Or maybe it’s just because I can’t scratch this one part of my leg because of this motherfucking cast, and it makes me want to die.”

You chuckle at his comment. Taehyung always has a way of taking devastating situations and laughing about them, making them seem like they’re not really real.

“Have you at least gotten to talk to that guy again?” You ask him, interlocking your fingers with his. It doesn’t feel like Jungkook, with whom you’ve been holding hands with (for totally professional purposes) for the past two-and-a-half weeks. It feels warmer, softer. Like you could die in these hands and he would promise that everything would be alright.

“Oh my God, yes!” Taehyung exclaims happily. “Jimin brought me flowers when I got out of the hospital. And they weren’t death-symbolizing white roses. I think I want to marry him, Y/N. You don’t understand.”

“Way to rub in the fact that I don’t have a love life,” you say, grimacing. “But I’m happy for you! You deserve all of the love and appreciation in the world.”

“Y/N,” Namjoon’s soothing voice interrupts your conversation as he places the cool wood of his clipboard on your back. “Go get changed. Hoseok wants to run through the second half of the program with you and Jungkook today.”

“Alright, Coach,” you say mindlessly, waving Namjoon off as you bid goodbye to Taehyung. “You’re gonna watch us practice, right?”

“Totally! Knock ’em dead, tiger,” Taehyung says, already making his way towards the up-ramp onto the bleachers that give him a view of the entire rink. Hoseok’s beginning to clear out the leftmost rink for you and Jungkook to practice, and you wave to Taehyung as you jog towards the locker room, already wary of what Jungkook’s going to say when you are inevitably late to practice on the ice.

The second half of the program for the free-skate is much more comprehensive than the first. Sure, the first part has the first set of twizzles and the layback curve lift (that Jungkook dropped you during the first time you had rehearsed the stunt), but the second features an overwhelming amount of stationary twirls and two more lifts, both of which are significantly more difficult than the curve.

It’s a good thing Jungkook’s as dedicated as you. If, at gunpoint, you were forced to pick one quality you admire about Jungkook, it’s how devoted he is to the sport, and how he’s willing to do anything to secure the top spot. At least you have one thing in common.

“Five, six, seven, eight, camel!” Hoseok shouts as he skates away from the two of you as you begin the camel spin. Jungkook wraps his heavy hands around you, one on your waist and another on your outstretched leg, and you do the same with him, palm glossing over his stomach as you hold on tight. You’re careful not to press to firmly, mostly out of fear for yourself, because you know fully well that he’s got a decent pack of abs under that fleece jacket he’s wearing. You twirl together, your two bodies slowly becoming one, but it’s such a short period of time that you split almost as quickly as you come together before launching off into the next trick.

Jungkook keeps his hands on your waist for almost the entire second part, wrapped around your waist as you skate around the rink, making all sort of elegant gestures with your hands to the beat of the music.

“Dip!” Hoseok’s voice rings out in the rink as Jungkook, with your hands tightly interlocked, dips you down down to the ice, pulling you in a semicircle before lifting you back up with ease. You spin around to face him, gliding across the ice, attempting to be civil and smile his way, but he offers nothing in return. Asshole.

The first lift comes easily, a combination with you going from Biellmann position on his thigh to a reverse-rotational. You’ve been practicing this for a few days now, not enough for it to be flawless but enough for it to get the job done and for Hoseok to fine tune over the next few weeks as the competition approaches. Jungkook keeps a tight grip on you throughout the entire thing, pressing you tightly to his body as he spins with you in the splits position before gracefully dropping you to the ice. Hoseok claps happily once you’ve landed it, watching with glee as you skate into the next series of twizzles.

It appears that everything’s going swimmingly, and when you are midway through the second half of the routine, the thought flashes across your mind that you might actually be able to work with him on this routine, rather than against him like you have been for so long. It’s a foreign feeling, that thought, and a fleeting one at that.

The final lift before the finale approaches, and you feel Jungkook press his palm firmly on your waist before hoisting you up as you wrap your arm around his neck to hold yourself up. Jungkook spins with ease, watching your body carefully as you dance around him, going from the splits to a horizontal position, the only thing keeping you glued to him his hand around your waist. It’s almost perfect, but when he sets you down you both stumble, skates colliding as you trip over each other and fall to a heap on the rink.

Hoseok cuts the music, skating over to see what went wrong.

“You guys alright?” He asks, concerned look on his face.

Sighing, you stand up shakily, holding onto Hoseok’s arm for support. “Fine.”

“Jungkook?”

“I’m good,” Jungkook says, voice as cold as always.

“What happened there, guys?” Hoseok asks.

“We were just positioned incorrectly, ‘s all,” Jungkook spits quickly, skating around in a quick figure-eight before re-positioning himself so that you can work on the lift again. You dust yourself off and join him, hoping that maybe this time you can get it so you can move onto tweaks.

You don’t.

For the next four times that you attempt the final lift, you end up collapsing in a puddle together, your skates colliding, or Jungkook’s grip on you slipping, or your limbs being connected for a moment too long, something that happens not during the lift but on your way down that causes the fall. You and Jungkook are getting equally infuriated with yourselves and with each other, much to Hoseok’s chagrin.

“Your foot is always too close to mine when you put me down,” you accuse, after Hoseok’s dismissed the both of you from practice. “Move it into more of a 180 position so I have room to move.”

“You aren’t landing in the right spot,” Jungkook counters bitterly. “You need to constantly be aware of my position on the ice so that way you don’t crash into me.”

“Your hand is slipping as you put me down, it throws me off.”

“You’re putting way too much faith in me to do everything correctly, when you aren’t even in the correct form during the last part of the lift.”

You both exhale, exasperated from arguing and from practicing and from the bruises blossoming all over your lower body. Bickering will get you absolutely nowhere but it’s all you have.

Before the two of you leave, Namjoon stops the both of you.

“Dinner together before the end of next week. A decent restaurant too, not a McDonald’s. You guys need to build trust, and you won’t be able to do that by arguing,” he orders, much to Taehyung’s confusion as he exits alongside of you, rambling on about Jimin and his flowers.

You and Jungkook meet eyes for a brief second before turning back to Namjoon and nodding.

Winning gold isn’t all sunshine and daisies. Sometimes, it’s bruises and self-torture as well.

Jungkook meets you for dinner at a mildly posh restaurant in the center of town, where the food isn’t necessarily dirt cheap, but it’s also not outrageously overpriced. It’s a quaint place, The Yellow Dandelion, that serves exclusively appetizers that are meant to be shared rather than eaten separately. The aura is soft, like the ending to a fairytale, decorated with Christmas lights and candles lining the shelves on the walls.

Jungkook’s already sitting there when you arrive, face windblown from the biting winter breeze. It’s a thin restaurant, booths extending all the wall along the wall on the right and a little bar to your left, the kitchen hiding in the back. You spot him instantly, see him waiting patiently for you, and ignore the hostess entirely as you rush over to him.

“You look cold,” Jungkook deadpans when he sees you. He’s dressed in a pale blue button-down, tucked into some khakis with his bangs brushed neatly to cover his forehead, dancing along his eyelashes. He looks so much different than when you saw him in the coffeeshop, bundled up in a scarf and jacket with his hair brushed up, or in practice, sweaty and cozy and angry.

“You look warm,” you comment in return, noting the pink decorating his cheeks. Or maybe that’s just the hazy light of the restaurant.

“I already ordered us Cokes, if that’s alright with you,” Jungkook says as you sit down across from him, thankful for the table in between the two of you that allows the both of you to keep your distance. Though, knowing Jungkook, you don’t doubt him possibly leaning over the table to make some snarky and mildly sexual remark to you. You nod, taking a look at the menu. It’s a single list of a bunch of fancy, hipster foods that sound both appealing and revolting at the same time.

“What are you going to order?” You ask him mindlessly, eyeing the bowl of pasta with olives and grapefruit. Namjoon always did say you needed to eat more “healthy” carbs, whatever the fuck that means.

“The spinach and artichoke dip, and the garlic bread. I can’t go to a restaurant and not get garlic bread. It’s sacreligious,” Jungkook says, making you laugh slightly. “What about you?”

“I don’t know, will you let me steal some of your garlic bread?” You ask cheekily, not minding the thought of garlic bread very much at all.

“You’re going to steal some regardless of if I say yes or no, so, no, I don’t mind. Have whatever,” he offers.

“I’m not going to let you fucking pay for me this time, you asshole,” you warn him holding up your wallet as a reminder. “This place isn’t cheap.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Let me pay for what I eat, Jeon. I’m not taking no for an answer,” you declare, leaning back firmly in your seat.

“You’re so stubborn,” Jungkook comments to himself, sighing.

“Do you not like stubborn girls? Oh, what a shame! What will I do if the great Jeon Jungkook doesn’t like stubborn girls? Will I have to change my entire personality just so he’ll like me a bit more?” You plead dramatically, looking up to the sky with your hands clasped together. Jungkook frowns in response to your melodrama, an eyebrow quirked in disapproval. You smile pettily at him.

The waitress comes with your Cokes, and you’re happy to have something to occupy your mouth so you don’t launch off into another series of personal attacks on Jeon Jungkook. She takes your orders before disappearing off into the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook alone with your thoughts once again.

“What’s your favorite time of day?” Jungkook asks, yet another stiff icebreaker (pun intended).

“Like, morning, afternoon, night? That kind of stuff?” You ask. Jungkook nods. “Midnight. Early morning. When the whole world is quiet and you can finally breathe. You?”

“The sunrise,” Jungkook responds, his answer catching you by surprise. He had always seemed like an afternoon kind of guy, when the sun is high and beams down on him with all its might, when its rays filter in through the windows at the top of the rink and illuminates the path on which he skates. Not the sunrise, the calm before the storm as the sky turns orange, purple, and pink.

“Really?” You ask, intrigued. “What for?”

“The only people who are awake to see it are the people who see as much beauty in it as I do,” Jungkook says softly. “I know you think I’m some cold, self-absorbed asshole who only cares about his medals, but I actually have a heart, you know.”

“Huh,” you say. “Who’d have thought.”

Once the food arrives, you and Jungkook spend the rest of the evening offering up the food on your plates to the other until there’s nothing left but crumbs and butter lining them. It’s a little infuriating, really, constantly being offered the other’s food, but when your stomachs are full and there is no room left for dessert, you find yourself pleased with the variety of dishes you’ve had. The bill has already been paid, and perhaps the two of you could just up and leave without another thought to this not-a-date date, but then—

“Why did you start skating, Jungkook?” You ask, playing with your fork as it taps the plate arrythmically. Jungkook’s been staring down at his food or his lap the entire night, but he finally looks up when you mention his name.

“I was four,” Jungkook begins. “And I was at the rink because my older brother had been invited to a birthday party there, and I had to come with. And I had wandered off while my mother was dealing with my older brother, gone to the senior level rinks. And I saw Kim Seokjin.”

“Kim Seokjin? Seriously?” You ask in shock. Kim Seokjin is only a legend to you and everyone else who attends your skating rink, a man who skates with so much elegance yet so much pizzazz, his talent alone earning him a silver medal at the Olympics.

“Seriously. He was practicing there, and it took my breath away. I had craned my neck and was standing on my tiptoes just to catch a glimpse of him as he leaped across the ice like a fucking swan, and I realized that I wanted to do that too. When he finished, he saw me watching him, and he gave me the brightest wave my four-year-old eyes had ever seen. I’ll never forget,” Jungkook says, shaking his head at the nostalgic memory. “I wanted to be just like him.”

The answer seems so unlike the Jungkook you know now (or at least, the Jungkook you think you know). You had always heard, always assumed that Jungkook began figure skating because someone had dared him to when he was little, and he had taken up the challenge with all of his might. You had always assumed that he skated not just because he enjoyed it, but because he was good at it, and because he knew he would always win.

“What about you?” Jungkook asks. “Why did you start skating?”

“When I was in kindergarten, all of my friends were good at something, be it sports, or school, whatever. They were all good at this one thing and I was just, kinda average. Not great and not terrible, either. But I was five, and I wanted something to be good at, something to be proud of,” you begin to explain. “And so my mom, the lovely person she is, signed me up for all of these different things to see if any of them stuck.”

“And then you found the rink,” Jungkook finishes, a knowing grin on his face.

You nod, repeating his words. “And then I found the rink.”

“Isn’t it weird?” Jungkook asks, twirling his fork between his fingers. You hum to show him that you’re paying attention, despite keeping your eyes trained on your twiddling thumbs. “How even though we hate each other, we have so much in common?”

“Like what?” You ask, not because you’re doubtful, or you’re unsure. You ask because you already know, already know that in more ways than one Jungkook is more than meets the eye, so much more than a first impression, but you refuse to let yourself believe it.

“Like how we both started out because we wanted to be something bigger than ourselves,” Jungkook says. “We don’t like the day. You like late nights, and I like the early mornings, because all we want is a little peace and quiet, a time of reflection and thought.”

His words make you wince, not because they are wrong, but because they are true. Because for as long as it has been, you and Jungkook have always been quite similar. You just wouldn’t allow yourself to admit it.

Jungkook continues. “We like bold colors. They’re statement colors, show off the parts of our personality we wouldn’t otherwise broadcast. We are passionate. And devoted. And determined to succeed.” He’s beginning to stand up, gather his belongings as his words make you shiver.

Jeon Jungkook had always been a beautiful horror story to you. Talented in every way one can be talented at skating, but rude. Aloof. Uptight. Not a heartbreaker, because he didn’t date, but a heartbreaker nonetheless, because he didn’t date. You had never imagined getting so close to him, let alone him becoming your ice dancing partner. They were two separate things, Jeon Jungkook and ice dancing, but now, they are one.

The thought straight terrifies you.

You mimic his actions, picking up your coat and your wallet and standing up across from him as you get ready to leave. Jungkook looks just as soft and hazy as he did at the beginning, fairy lights and candles illuminating his features. He smiles awkwardly at you, and you send him an equally tense grin in return.

He walks you to the door, and you leave the restaurant together only to be greeted with the brisk winter breeze, Jack Frost nipping at your nose and turning his ears a cherry red. It’s clear that he’s going one way and you’re going another, and so he smiles at you.

Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe a couple hours to get to know each other was really all you needed.

You suddenly feel a lot safer, thinking about tomorrow’s practice, where you and Jungkook will spend the entire time working on the lift. You still have yet to land it perfectly, but you are getting closer. He’s only dropped you about a dozen times at this point. But now—though perhaps it’s just the food talking, the winter weather making your brain go hazy—you think you might actually be able to do it. You might actually begin to feel safe in his arms.

That night, Jeon Jungkook stays up for as long as he possibly can, staring lazily out of his bedroom window to the stars above, catching a glimpse of the moon between the branches of the trees. It is the very early morning when he falls asleep on his windowsill, dreaming of you.

That night, you set fifteen alarms to wake up before the sunrise, managing to get up five minutes ahead of time. You pull on your warmest jacket and rush outside in nothing but slippers, and watch the sky turn from a deep navy to a lilac, to cotton candy pink, to tangerine as the sun slowly creeps over the horizon, thinking of him.

Despite the strangely enjoyable dinner you shared, you and Jungkook cannot land the final lift. It takes all of your willpower to try, yet it is still not enough, and you collapse on the ice in a heap for what is probably the fifteenth time so far, spent only on this one stunt. Hoseok skates over each time and he has no idea what you are doing wrong, no idea how to the fix the mistakes he cannot figure out you’re making.

At least you’ve stopped blaming each other, though you can’t help the side-eyes you send his way each time you pull yourselves up from the ice to try again.

“That’s it!” Namjoon calls from where he stands outside the rink, “I’m staging another Trust Intervention.” He walks up, as close as he can get to the rink without actually stepping foot on it, and motions for you, Jungkook, and Hoseok to skate over to him. When you’re in front of him, he exhales. “We’re gonna do a trust exercise, and it’s going to be a lot of fun and you guys are going to learn how to depend wholeheartedly on the other person.”

“Are we doing trust falls on the ice?” Jungkook asks excitedly, much to your horror. A trust fall on ice skates sounds like nothing short of disaster.

“Not quite,” Namjoon says hesitantly. You and Jungkook share a wary look.

And that’s how you find yourself blindfolded with Jungkook’s bright red scarf and taking tentative steps onto the rink.

The whole premise of whatever fucked-up trust exercise Namjoon has spontaneously made up is that Jungkook, through voice and voice alone, has to guide you through this path that Hoseok has made on the ice, and you’re not allowed to see where you’re going. You’re just supposed to hope for the best and pray that Jungkook does his job the way he’s supposed to you.

“This is such an awful idea, Coach,” you say, worry lacing your words as you slowly stand your ground on the ice. Jungkook is with you in the rink, but he is not allowed to touch you or guide you with any part of his body other than his words.

“I don’t care, you’re doing it anyway!” Namjoon shouts.

“Okay, skate left,” Jungkook begins, and you take a stride left. “Nope! No, not that far left. A little to the right.”

A small step right.”

“Good. Okay, skate forward for two medium-sized glides,” he instructs. With nowhere to look and nowhere to feel, you follow his words carefully, though you aren’t so sure if the term “medium-sized glide” is as universal as Jungkook thinks it it. Regardless, you do as he tells you, and you don’t hear any objections.

It goes on like this for another ten minutes as you make a movement, hear Jungkook shouting at you that you’ve gone too far, or out of bounds, or you’re about to crash into something, and then carefully follow his next direction. You even feel yourself on the verge of falling a few times, even though your hands are outstretched for balance you don’t technically need since you should know how to ice skate with your eyes closed at this point. This is by far the strangest type of trust exercise that you’ve ever had to engage in, but you will admit that it is a lot of fun.

The scarf on your face smells just like him. It’s a strange thing to think, but when you see nothing but a shadowed red and you are relying entirely on Jungkook’s instructions to complete this nonsensical challenge, your mind’s stuck on him.

(It’s been stuck on him since the dinner.)

The scent wafts through the air that surrounds your clouded mind, and you take in his aroma. He smells like the rink, more than anything else, but he also smells like fresh honey, the kind that’s way too expensive for what it’s worth since honey never goes bad anyway. And he smells like movie theater popcorn, the over-buttered kind that reeks of preservatives and calories but you’ll happily binge on anyway. You wonder if Jungkook’s the type to save his popcorn until the actual movie starts, or eat half of the tub during the commercials and advertisements at the beginning.

And when his voice is the only thing that your ears register, smooth like silk, it begins to sound like music to you. When he’s not offending you or sending you a biting remark, it sounds gentle. It sounds like a literal song, voice light and airy and filled with laughter.

Perhaps it’s just because so many of your senses have been stripped from you, that the rest of them are heightened. Perhaps this is the only reason why Jungkook’s scent is so prevalent to your nose, why his voice makes your heart dance along to the rhythm of his words.

There could be no other explanation, right?

You finish the course successfully, and then it’s Jungkook’s turn. Hoseok rearranges the path  as you skate over to Jungkook with a grin on your face, the scarf balled up in your hand. He turns around so that you can blindfold him.

“This is kinky,” Jungkook says jokingly, nearly making you keel over with laughter.

“Don’t get too excited, Jeon,” you tease him, warning tone to your voice. “The rink’s locker rooms are terrible places to jack off.”

“You think I don’t know that already?” Jungkook asks pointedly, making you glad he can’t see the wide-eyed expression written all over your face. With his hand holding tight onto yours, you guide him to the beginning of the course.

“Forward for one big glide,” you instruct, again, unsure of the universality of the phrase “one big glide.” Jungkook follows your guide, and is one bad step from falling out of bounds.

“How’s that?” He calls out.

“Good! Turn right a little bit,” you instruct, even though the path leads left. What Jungkook doesn’t know won’t kill him.

He listens to your words like a fool because he is no better than one, happily turning to face the wall. You have to try absurdly hard not to burst into laughter.

“Okay, good, good,” you say, choking down your giggles. “Straight, keep going, keep going, stop!” Jungkook comes to a halt less than a foot away from the edge of the rink, teetering on crashing into the plastic. You don’t know if you want to be kind or evil.

“Am I on the right path?” Jungkook asks?

“Yeah, yeah,” you insist, muffling your laughter. “Straight a little more—!”

Crash!

Jungkook steps back wildly, falling on his ass as the scarf dislodges itself from above his ears, falling into his lap. You’re keeling over, slapping your thigh obscenely as you cackle, the sight of a poor, innocent, blindfolded Jungkook colliding with the wall under your instruction too good to resist. Jungkook stands up in indignation, pouting.

With the scarf in his hand, he points an accusatory finger your way. “This is why we can’t get the landing, Y/N! This is why!”

You’re still giggling, unable to wipe the smirk off your face even as Jungkook comes closer and closer, menacing and peeved yet on the verge of laughter as well. Once he’s close enough, he chucks his scarf your way out of anger, and you catch it before the two of you both burst into hysterics. Even the cold-hearted, self-proclaimed Ice Prince can’t resist a good practical joke here and there.

“You got me good,” Jungkook admits, shaking his head. “I was gonna do that to you, you know. But I didn’t, because I thought it was too mean,” he says, making you muffle down your giggles once more. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

“You snooze you lose, Jeon,” you say wisely.

Namjoon, with his skates on for the first time in a while, joins the two of you on the ice.

“Alright,” he says, clapping his hands together as Hoseok cleans up the path. “Obviously, that didn’t go as planned. But that’s alright, because it’s nice to see the two of you smiling together. It’s a good kind of change,” he declares, disappointed that his trust exercise failed but happy to see that he’s gotten something out of it anyway. “You guys might actually have a shot at gold if you land that ending, you know? You could do it.”

“Let’s get to it, then?” Jungkook says, taking your hand as you skate towards the middle of the rink.

Despite all efforts to improve, you and Jungkook still can’t get the ending.

Maybe another time.

Taehyung comes and visits another one of your practices a week or so later. He’s got four weeks left until his cast comes off and he can get back onto the ice (with discretion, of course), which means three weeks until Nationals, which in turn means three weeks to get this fucking ending down.

He watches happily as the two of you rehearse over and over, each attempt closer than the last to stick the ending and finish with a bang but not close enough, and you almost always end up falling or stumbling or tripping or all three. But each time you turn to look at him, he’s got this gleeful grin on his face, not the least bit discouraged by the fact that you can’t seem to land this damn trick. At least somebody is out here supporting you, even if you don’t know if you can support yourself.

“Ugh, God,” you say, pulling yourself up after having fallen for the nth time so far over these past five weeks.

“Again?” Jungkook supplies, dusting himself off and ignoring the pain that each fall causes to the bruises decorating his legs and arms.

“Again,” you say, nodding tiredly as you join up with him again.

“Wait, wait, before you guys start,” Namjoon’s voice interrupts the two of you as he skates over, handy dandy clipboard under his arm. “Do you guys still want to do this move?”

“What?” You ask, a single eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, can you guys still stick with it?” Namjoon asks, genuinely concerned. “Because it’s been five weeks and you haven’t landed it once. I don’t know, I was thinking maybe you guys could come up with an easier lift, one you’ll have less trouble landing. We can’t risk a mistake at Championships.”

“We can do it,” you immediately say, refusing to accept the loser’s way out. This move is your golden ticket to first place. Even if you can’t get it now, you know you’ll be able to later. You swear you will. “I know we can.”

“But you haven’t done it once yet,” Namjoon points out, as if you don’t already know that you’ve never stuck the landing for it. “And Nationals is in three weeks. And I don’t know how much more training you guys will be able to get in before then. If you can’t get it now, who’s to say you’ll be able to get it by then?”

“We can,” you insist. “I swear we can. We’re not going to change up the routine just because we haven’t gotten it yet.” This is your one chance at glory, and you refuse to pass it up.

“Y/N, maybe we should listen to Coach,” Jungkook says hesitantly, following you as you skate back to the ending position, where the lift begins. “If we still haven’t gotten it, maybe we should try a different move—”

“No! We can do it, Coach, I swear. Have some faith in us.” You are persistent, relentless, stubborn. You know Namjoon’s just thinking about what’s best for you and Jungkook and the routine, but you won’t change your mind now. You’ve spent so long trying to do this, and you won’t give up. Hasn’t he noticed? You’re getting closer and closer each time. “Hoseok, hit play.”

Hoseok presses the stereo and the music begins to echo throughout the rink. You and Jungkook skate into the trick, slowly gaining enough speed and momentum so that he can continue to spin while holding you. Step by step, he pulls you into his arms, allows you to stand proudly on his thigh before looping your leg around him to morph into the splits, then hang loosely next to his body as he holds you by nothing but the waist, and then—!

Thud!

Jungkook loses his grip on your waist and the two of you come toppling down once more, his hand behind your head to cushion it from the hard ice. You sigh once more, sitting up together with dejected expressions.

“We can do it,” you insist as Namjoon skates over, saving him the trouble. “I swear, we can.”

“How was practice today?” Taehyung asks, as if he didn’t watch the entire thing, specifically you falling over. And over. And over.

“Fine,” you say gruffly, adjusting your duffel bag so the padding rests on your shoulder. Jungkook had told you that he’d stay back to get in a bit of solo practice, so he’s not walking out at the same time as you.

“You’re really working that reverse-rotational,” Taehyung comments mindlessly, referencing the final lift. “You almost got it.”

“But almost isn’t good enough,” you groan, exhaling heavily. The move will get you down, rest heavily on your already dampened spirits until you can finally execute it perfectly.

“How’s Jungkook?” Taehyung asks, changing the topic.

“I still hate him…” you tell Taehyung tentatively, “but at least he works hard. I think our routine is amazing, save for the part where we mess up at the end and fall into a puddle on the floor.”

“You should do that at Nationals, as part of the routine. People will think you’re mad. It’ll be great,” Taehyung suggests, though you know he’s kidding.

You scoff. “As if.”

“But you and Jungkook, you guys are okay, right?” Taehyung asks hopefully, looking at you with innocent wide eyes.

You turn around before you can exit the skate center, catch a glimpse of Jungkook skating to the beat of the rap music playing lightly through the shitty speakers of the arena. He’s not doing much, just a couple spins here and there, but he is so easily able to move his body in perfect time, capture the essence of the song with his movements. It’s mesmerizing, watching him. You think you might be able to do it forever.

“Yeah,” you say, letting your eyes linger on his figure. “I guess we’re alright.”

Two days before Nationals is the first time that you actually do it without falling, without tripping and flubbing up the rest of your routine and missing the ending pose. Twos days before Nationals, and Namjoon and Hoseok are on the verge of a quarter-life crisis because for weeks on end they’ve watched you try to get the final lift over and over and over, to no avail. They’re almost about to cut it from the routine entirely. But stubbornness has always been one of your most unbearable qualities, and you continue to insist that you can do it.

At this point, Hoseok is just trying to fine-tune any last minute things. Nationals is in two days and if you haven’t fixed it already, there’s no way you’ll be able to fix it before the big day. Now, it’s just him skating around the two of you, telling you to lift your leg higher or don’t forget to dig your toe firmly into the ice or grab onto her waist tighter.

What Hoseok, and Namjoon, and Jungkook, and you, are really worried about? The final lift.

If you haven’t gotten it by now the chances of you getting it at Championships are slim to none, so it’s now or never.

You run the program with ease, the music flowing from the speakers to the ice, up your body and through your bloodstream. You live, sleep, and eat the beat of the song, your heart thumps in time to the rhythm. Thank God you picked a song that you’ll never find yourself getting sick of, or you probably would have pulled a double Vincent Van Gogh by now.

The skills come easily to you now, muscle memory propelling you through the routine without so much as a second thought. Jungkook’s touch is not as foreign as it once was, your hands slowly but surely beginning to feel like they belong interlocked with his, the feeling of his palms finding a constant purchase on your waist no longer unnatural, uncomfortable. He is no Taehyung but he doesn’t need to be, not when this routine wasn’t choreographed for you and Taehyung.

It was made for you and him.

Jeon Jungkook is finally starting to feel less like a replacement and more like a partner. You have spent so much time with him these past eight weeks, more time than with Taehyung (and that’s saying a lot, especially considering the fact that the two of you are best friends), and it’s beginning to feel like he’s been your partner this entire time. That this performance you are about to give in front of thousands of people, professional judges, and live cameras, is one that you’ve been planning for for years instead of weeks. That you have been with Jungkook for years instead of weeks.

You don’t know why, but the feeling that Jungkook is slowly starting to melt into the position you once thought Taehyung had secured forevermore is frightening. It’s telling, too, telling you that you’re getting used to being with Jungkook, that your body no longer finds itself immediately repulsed at his touch. It toys with the thought that maybe, one day, you’ll be working him with permanently. It threatens you with the thought that you won’t want to let him go back to single skating, where he truly outshines every single one of his competitors. That you’ll pray he’ll stay with you, instead.

You easily clear the series of twizzles, spinning around on the ice in perfect synchronization not only with the beat of the music, but with each other. The twizzles are some of the hardest skills to master, especially considering that the placement of your skates has to be perfectly balanced so as to continue propelling yourself forward, and you can do them without batting an eye.

You come together right before the big finale, Jungkook reaching out to grab a hold of your outstretched hand and pulling you close to him. He holds your interlocked hands up high and spins you around as you glide across the ice, gaining momentum for the big lift. He places a hand on your waist and meets your eyes, and his hopeful brown ones mix beautifully with your own right before you jump into the lift.

It’s the curve lift first. Jungkook tugs you up and holds you by the thigh as you stand atop his, careful not to pierce his skin as you balance on him, arms outstretched for show. Then, you loop your legs over his shoulder, around his neck, as he begins to rotate in the opposite direction, beginning the reverse-rotational dismount. Your legs form the splits as he begins to pick up speed, and you swear that even over the heavy thump of the rhythm you can hear his heartbeat racing, hear every pound of the beat.

Or perhaps, that’s your own.

Finally, you loop both legs around him so that he is the only thing holding you close to him, back facing the ice as he holds you by the waist as he continues to rapidly rotate.

It all happens so quickly. The entire lift shouldn’t take more than ten, fifteen seconds maximum. Jungkook spins and he spins and he spins and he does not let go of you, keeps his grip as tight as he can as the two of you meet eyes in the midst of it all, staring at each other with such determination, such fierceness, such intensity. Your faces hover so closely to each other, hardly an inch or two apart, the heat of your exhales fanning out over each other’s skin. You hold your breath as you prepare for the dismount. Jungkook spins you around once more, holding onto your waist as your legs come out to rest underneath you, and you hit the ice with a little skip but nothing more, your toepick catching in the ice just barely as the two of you come to a screeching halt.

You’ve done it. You’ve done it and you haven’t stopped staring into Jungkook’s eyes and he hasn’t let go of your waist and you are both panting, panting, panting.

“I got you,” he promises, breathes into your skin as your foreheads rest against each other’s. It’s not even the ending pose, it’s not even the end of the fucking song, but you’ve landed it and you’ve landed it together and that’s all that matters. That’s what will win you the gold. “I got you, I got you.”

It is intimate. Too intimate for your liking, really. You have never been so close, never felt so much, with Jeon Jungkook. You wonder if he can hear how your heartbeat rings through your ears. You wonder if he can tell that with each touch of his fingertips on your skin, goosebumps pop up and a fire ignites.

You wonder if it’s the same for him, though you doubt it is.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, how long you stare into his eyes until you’re drowning in the chocolate of his irises, the caramel that decorates it. Death by sweetness is not the worst way to go, you decide, when you glance you at his lips, so close to yours. They are so tempting, the way they curve into a smile, but you resist for the sake of professionalism, for the sake of winning.

This is a strictly professional relationship. You are figure skaters, nothing more, nothing less. You are one-time ice dancing partners, nothing more, nothing less.

So then why do you feel like you’re missing something?

Namjoon and Hoseok rush over to you, pulling the four of you into a huge group hug as you celebrate sticking the landing, doing it perfectly.

“I told you!” You cry out, smacking Namjoon in the back. “I told you Coach, I knew we could do it!”

Namjoon nods, conceding. “I should have known that the two of you would have been able to pull it off.”

“You guy did awesome today,” Hoseok says as the four of you skate towards the exist. “Practice dismissed. Nationals in two days!” He says giddily, shooting you a thumbs up as you and Jungkook exit the rink, pulling your skate guards on before heading towards the locker rooms.

“Congrats, you guys,” Namjoon says, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so elated. “I can’t believe that you’re so close to national fame. You’re gonna kick ass at Nationals, you know that? You’re gonna knock everyone’s socks off, blow their houses down.”

You smile, nothing more than wholly and completely relieved. Even though this is only the first time you’ve landed it, it feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, like you can finally breathe again.

“Light practice tomorrow, alright? I just wanna see that ending again, just in case I had been imagining it,” Namjoon asks of the two of you, and you nod happily in return. You never thought you’d be so excited to run through the final lift.

On the way back, you try to keep your distance from Jungkook, the mere thought of being any closer to him sending nerves shooting through your brain, sending shivers down your spine. All that you see every time you blink are his wide eyes, staring back at you, searching for something behind the haze.

“You did a good job today,” Jungkook says mindlessly, and oh God, the conversation has resorted back to ice breakers and small talk.

“Thanks,” you say softly. “You too.”

“What did you think of the lift?” He asks, clearly making a desperate attempt for you to just make eye contact with him, but you will yourself to avoid his piercing gaze. You stay silent for a while, the only sound near you the padding of your skate guards against the arena floor.

“It was good,” you comment quickly, gently, nodding your head slightly.

“It was our best one yet,” Jungkook says, continuing. It’s obvious that all he wants is for you to look at him, and you cannot even offer him that. “I’m telling you—” he says, and even though you are listening to him you wonder if he thinks that you aren’t.

You highly doubt that. Jungkook knows you too well to know when you’re not paying attention to him.

“—if we do it like that at Nationals, we’re guaranteed gold, don’t you think?”

You shrug unhelpfully.

He stops, causing you to do the same on instinct. Before you can turn away from him, he grabs onto your wrist, keeps your feet planted firmly on the ground and forces you to look him in the eyes. He looks so desperate like this.

“You just need to trust me, Y/N,” Jungkook says, gazing into your eyes and hopelessly searching for a response that is deeper than words alone. “Do you trust me?”

You’re scared that if you spend too much time looking into his eyes, you’ll drown in them. Without another word, you pull away from him, running into the locker rooms and not coming out until you’re sure he’s gone.

When you were little, just starting out as a junior skater, you would watch the televised championships broadcasted on your little box cable television in your living room, always turning around to tell your mother than one day, you’d be there.

Oh, how the times have changed.

You walk into the rink for practice before the big day, duffel bag resting carefully on your shoulder, and you feel the breath leave your lungs. You had only ever dreamed about being here, about standing on that rink and skating out in a national competition, but now you are here, and you will skate in a national competition, and it feels so surreal and overwhelming and you can feel your heart pounding and your mind racing.

Maybe it’s just the feeling of being here, of being so close to living out your dream, only a few more steps away. Or maybe it’s the feeling of being here with Jungkook, being on the verge of victory with him by your side. Both thoughts terrify you equally, though you find that when you think of Jungkook, instead of your heart racing, it stops.

Outside of practice, the two of you have not spoken since the day you conquered the lift, executed it nearly flawlessly with his hands on your waist and your lips hovering above his. During practice, the two of you hardly speak at all, only a few words exchanged here or there discussing the routine.

It’s strange. Two months ago you were hoping and praying that for rest of your time spent together, you would verbally interact with Jungkook as little as possible, and yet here you are, wishing you could do more than just avoid each other. It’s easy to see that something’s changed but it’s difficult to discern why, to sift through the practices and the programs and fake dates and look for something deeper. Maybe Jungkook really has always been like this, cold, aloof, distant, but after getting to know him so closely, so intimately over the past several weeks, you find that hard to believe anymore.

What should be more concerning to you than whatever peculiar relationship you currently share with Jungkook, you realize, is the fact that ever since your last practice back at your home rink, the scent familiar and warm and the scenery comforting, you have not landed the final lift.

In fact, it’s as if you’ve gone right back to square one, with you and Jungkook inevitably doing something wrong on that last turn, the final rotation before he puts you down and you skate into the finale. There’s something that’s changed, a reason why suddenly you’re not getting a lift you thought you had finally mastered, and not only is it stressing you and Jungkook out, it’s sending major panic waves to your coaches, who look like they are in a constant state of absolute crisis.

“Again,” Hoseok orders from where he leans against the edge of the rink, watching the two of you rehearse the move over and over.

You groan, stretching and cracking the bones at the bottom of your back, the muscles tight from so many contorted positions. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve repeated it, attempting to land the lift to no avail. Turning your head, you look towards Jungkook, who is already skating back to the starting position with a solemn expression on his face, one of serious concentration and nothing else. He looks so different like this, empty and hollow. The life in his blood has drained out, leaving nothing but dust in its place.

You skate over to him, lining your feet up exactly so you can gain momentum with a couple of loops and diagonals before he is able to maintain the speed throughout the trick. With his hands placed gently on your waist, they no longer feel the way they used to. There’s something missing, something you cannot quite pinpoint, not even as Jungkook pulls you up onto his thigh and the stunt begins.

As per usual, everything goes swimmingly up until the last part, with your back facing the ice, your arms stretched out like an acrobat as he holds onto your waist and nothing else. When he pulls you back up for you to land safely, there is always a stumble, a trip, and then a fall, and the two of you come tumbling down within another second.

Ignoring the looks from the other skaters, the two of you get up and make your way back to Hoseok, who has been rubbing at his temples in worry the entire time. You don’t even want to think about what Namjoon is doing, who told the three of you that he would be going to the bathroom fifteen minutes ago. The poor guy might actually lose his mind.

“Want us to run it again?” Jungkook asks, an eyebrow raised in inquiry. He’s already beginning to turn around to go back to the designated spot.

“No, no,” Hoseok says, shaking his head. “You guys have run it enough. No point in trying any longer.”

“Coach,” you say, expression falling. Is he just giving up on you? Is that what this has come to?

“Really, I know you guys can do it. It’s too late to cut it out of the routine, anyway, so we shouldn’t even bother,” Hoseok insists, hand coming down from his forehead to grip the railing that surrounds the rink. “You’re probably really tired, too. You should get some rest before the competition tomorrow, since you’re gonna be putting all of your effort into it.”

“Coach, what’s wrong?” You ask, scurrying over to the exit to the ice rink, tugging on your skate guards and walking over. You’re only aware that Jungkook is following you because you can hear the distinct click of his guards being attached to his blades.

Hoseok takes a deep breath, exhaling the same way. He sits down on the bench nearby, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. You sit down next to him, concerned. What if you being able to do the trick the entire time was just a fluke? Dumb luck? What if you really cannot do it, and you fall in front of thousands of people and professional judges and live cameras tomorrow, kissing your gold goodbye?

Is it your fault? Are you doing something wrong?

Or is it Jungkook?

You cannot believe you are resorting to pointing fingers and placing blame, just like you had a month ago. You thought you had moved on from that, but the stress is getting to your brain and nerves jitter throughout your body and you don’t know how to stop them. You’ve been shaking for three days straight.

“Nothing,” Hoseok tells you, but you both know he’s lying. “I’m just… understandably worried about tomorrow. You know, because.”

“Is there anything we can do?” You ask.

Hoseok chuckles. “Yeah, land the lift tomorrow.”

You force a smile, looking up to Jungkook as he stands beside the bench, gazing out towards the rink with his arms crossed over his chest. You don’t know if you can muster up the courage to talk to him.

It’s like day one, all over again.

“We’re gonna try our hardest, right Jungkook?” You say, the sound of his name as it leaves your lips snapping him out of his trance. He turns to you with wide eyes, brown and big and beautiful, before shifting his view to Hoseok and nodding.

“We got this, Coach,” he says, that signature cocky lilt peeking in through each syllable. “We’re gonna fucking nail it tomorrow, nobody out there is gonna know what hit them.”

Though Hoseok looks hardly convinced, he cracks a grin nonetheless, getting up with a heave and bidding the two of you good luck, dismissing you from your final practice together.

It feels weird. The thought of this being your final practice before competition, your first and last one together. And then, Taehyung’s leg will have healed and he will be free to skate again, with some caution, of course. And Jungkook will go back to ruling the men’s single skate, collecting medals by the dozen, and he will forget all about the time he got dragged into ice dancing with a girl he barely knew.

You almost don’t want to leave, want to savor the moment for as long as you can before it disintegrates in your hands. Over the past two months, dare you say, Jeon Jungkook has become something of a friend. He has become someone you find yourself blindly trusting, someone you’ll put all of your faith into even if in the end he will steer you wrong. He has become someone you don’t want to forget, but someone you know you should. After all, this is a one time thing. When you return home from competition, with potential gold medals hanging proudly from your necks, you will part ways.

The next day, you will walk in with Taehyung by your side and begin to prep for next season, learning the new skills Namjoon will teach you and mastering the choreography Hoseok will create. And you will spot Jungkook at another rink, skating alone to music playing from his wireless headphones. He will come to a stop at the same time as you, and you will meet eyes and wonder what might have happened if he stayed.

And everything will go back to normal.

You begin to walk from the arena, making your way to the hotel across the street to settle in for the night and prepare for tomorrow. There’s a sheet mask with your name written all over it waiting in the bathroom in your room, and you want nothing more than to sink into a hot bath and cover your face in skincare products.

“See you tomorrow?” Jungkook asks casually once you’ve gotten to the door to your room. His room is just across from yours. His tone is nonchalant, distant. His words feel like an obligation, rather than a choice.

Just like the ice dancing.

You nod, hand on the doorknob as you begin to turn your back to him to head inside. “See you tomorrow.”

You make your way inside, shutting the door behind you quickly and peering through the peephole. Jungkook waits outside his door for a little bit, staring straight at yours for a moment too long before shaking his head slightly and retreating to his room himself. You wonder what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his mind.

Before long, all thoughts of Jungkook are forgotten as you collapse in your bathtub, letting the water wash over you like waves pulling you away from the shore.

Your entire life thus far has been preparing you for this one day, you decide as you stand in the sidelines, watching the other skaters glide gracefully across the ice as warm-ups. You and Jungkook are the last ones to go on for the free skate (having acquired the highest short dance score, thank God), meaning you will in turn be the last ones to warm up for it.

As Jungkook is adjusting the tights wrapped around his legs, Taehyung pulls you aside. He had accompanied your little herd to Nationals, quoting “moral support” as his reasoning for being there. Namjoon and Hoseok are too soft for him to reject him, so here he is.

“Y/N,” Taehyung says, and the serious tone tells you that he’s not about to tell you some lame joke about one of the other figure skaters.

“What?” You ask, glancing up at the digital clock floating along the rim of the seats.

“You haven’t been getting the lift with Jungkook,” Taehyung points out, and you are suddenly reminded that throughout all of the practices you have had so far at Nationals, he’s been watching every single one. Taehyung knows you better than anyone else, like the back of his hand, and he can typically tell when something is going wrong. “Coach Namjoon said you had been getting it a ton back home… what’s happened?”

“Not you,” you say with a groan, tilting your head back in exasperation. It seems that everyone around you is concerned with the lift and nothing else, each word placing another pound of pressure atop your shoulders. “Yes, we haven’t been getting it recently. Why?”

“Because you’ve gotten it before,” Taehyung says, “and I don’t understand what’s changed.”

Neither do you. “Nothing’s changed,” you spit quickly, already regretting how bitter the words sound as they leave your mouth.

“Why are you so stiff?” Taehyung asks, getting progressively more concerned. “You’re never like this before comps.”

You scoff. “I’m not stiff.”

Taehyung tuts. “You’re so stubborn sometimes. Look at you,” he says, motioning down to you. You’re tapping your guarded skate incessantly on the arena floor, your eyebrows are on a constant state of knitted together, and your arms are crossed tightly over your chest, wrists itchy from all of the glitter on your costume. “You’re all tense. Want me to massage you?”

Only Taehyung would offer a massage to you while in a cast, balancing on crutches. “I don’t need a massage, Taehyung.”

“Is it Jungkook?”

His name catches you off guard, as it so often does these days. “What?”

Taehyung leans in closer. “Is he making you feel this way?”

You’re rendered speechless. “I…”

Taehyung looks at you gently, searching in your eyes for an answer he knows you won’t give him outright. “If he’s giving you a hard time, just say something, Y/N.”

“That’s the thing,” you find yourself whispering, so quiet you can barely hear yourself over the thumping of your heart.

“What?” Taehyung asks, thoroughly confused with where you’re going with this.

“I don’t…” You begin hesitantly, hoping and praying that he isn’t listening in. “I don’t know how I feel about him, alright?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t figure it out,” you say, and this might be the most honest you’ve been with yourself in a long while. “I just…”

“Do you like him?” Taehyung asks, finally beginning to connect the dots together in his mind. He’s got a little smile on his face, a knowing one that already tells you everything.

“I don’t know!” You respond, raising your voice out of pure stress. All of these questions are slowly driving you mad. All you want are answers, concrete things to feel and see and touch, but the thought of Jungkook is none of those things, and you find yourself left with nothing but more questions.

“Y/N,” Taehyung says softly. “Seriously, you don’t need to be so scared if you do like him.” He says, reaching out a soothing hand to rest on your upper arm. The touch makes you shiver, but maybe you’ve just been so deprived of human touch recently that everything feels foreign.

“I’m not scared,” you say sharply.

Taehyung frowns. “You look terrified.”

You make absolutely no attempt to mask what is definitely a frightened expression on your face. All you say is, “I’m not scared! I’m just…” you trail off, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what I am, Tae.”

Taehyung beams, seemingly having an answer to every single one of your questions. Maybe this is what he’s been doing these past few weeks he’s spent not skating, falling in love with that guy named Jimin and suddenly becoming the Local Love Expert, guiding you with a hand on your back. “You’re a talented ice dancer who may or may not be in love with her partner but it doesn’t matter because you’re gonna kick ass either way,” he promises proudly.

You crack a smile, perhaps out of desperation, perhaps out of relief.

“Taehyung,” you say, voice pleading. “What do I do…”

Taehyung holds both of your hands in his, looking intently into your eyes with the determination of a man about to go off to war. “You go out there and put all of your trust in Jungkook and give the best damn show of your life, that’s what.”

“Taehyung…”

“If you’re worried about Jungkook, Y/N, don’t be,” he promises softly, and you finally turn your head to Jungkook as he begins to walk towards the ice rink to warm up for your performance. He’s covered in sparkles from head to toe but his eyes glitter the brightest. “Have you even seen him? He treats you like a snowflake. Like one wrong move, and he’ll lose you forever.”

When the time comes for you and Jungkook to close out the show with your program, you find that the nerves in your body have been replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread, instead.

You dread the way he will put his hands on your waist or your cheek or your neck and the way you will melt into his touch, caving into the feeling. You dread the final lift, the one that not only the gold medal, but any medal is riding on. You dread the conclusion to your performance, when the crowd will cheer for a couple that is nothing more than a farce, a one-time deal, and you will pretend that it will be like this forever. You dread the feeling of nervous anticipation at the end, where you will be anxiously waiting for your score. You dread the arrival of tomorrow, when Jungkook will slip between your fingertips before you even get a chance to say goodbye.

Jeon Jungkook can promise you nothing more than what will happen in the next four minutes, whether it be good or bad, and while that sinking feeling in your chest tells you that it isn’t enough, your heart is willing to take it.

You meet up with Jungkook right at the entrance to the rink. He looks at you with a determination in his eyes and spunk in his wild smile, and you think that out of all of the Jungkooks you know, this one is your favorite. He takes your hand in his, holds it securely in his grip with a refusal to let you go, and the two of you skate onto the ice to cheers.

After doing a half a lap each, the two of you join in the center of the rink. You line up in the post Hoseok had instructed you so carefully to do, take in a deep breath, and the music begins.

Muscle memory, at this point, is what keeps your racing heart from thumping right out of your chest. You have rehearsed this routine so many times that it is practically engraved on the inside of your eyelids, embedded in your bloodstream.

Muscle memory is also what keeps you from thinking about Jungkook for too long, from thinking about the way he holds onto you like you’ll fly away if he lets go, the way he refuses to stop staring into your eyes as you glide across the ice like swans. Hoseok had choreographed your new routine with the intention of taking the anger you once felt towards him and turning it into passion. But now, instead of anger is something softer, something more delicate. But Jungkook refuses to give in, the fire igniting in his eyes with every turn he makes, and you realize that passion is what will give you the score. Love is what will give you the medal.

You skate along with ease, feeling the way you melt under his hot touch but doing nothing to stop it, not as he leads you through the first lift to a chorus of applause and hoots from the crowd. When you separate for the first series of twizzles, though you no longer feel his touch, the ghost of his fingertips dance along your skin, sending a lightning bolt to your heart as you spin in synchronization.

You wonder what you must look like to an outsider, right now. What the people watching see. Do they see a pair of ice dancers, shredding up the rink as they attempt to get the gold? Or do they see something more? Do they see the devotion in your eyes, the dedication you have for the sport? Or do they see the way your eyes never leave Jungkook’s, not unless they absolutely must. The way you lean into his touch despite it ruining your perfectly straight form. Can they see that, as well?

With the second lift successfully cleared, you begin to gain a little more confidence. There’s less than a minute left in your routine and you still have the last lift to go, the most comprehensive of them all. But even as the seconds tick down it feels like time stretches out, like you’ve been skating with Jungkook for years and this is just a measly four minutes, but it is so much more than that.

As you approach the final lift, your speed the only thing propelling you into his arms, time stops. It freezes entirely, leaves the two of you zooming forwards as it comes to a halt. Your surroundings seem to blur when he puts his hands on you, pulls you up onto his thigh for the first part of the lift. They turn to white in the second part, and suddenly Jungkook is the only thing you can focus on, the only thing you can think of. All that flashes through your mind as you loop yourself into the final hold is his name, Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. He is the only thing on your mind. He is the only person who has your heart.

And you land, blades falling firmly onto the ice as you spin outwards, not a single stumble in sight.

The crowd suddenly reappears, and around you the setting becomes clear as day. The cheers are deafening but you can hardly hear them, not as you make eye contact with him and he smiles, grins, beams. Just in time with the music, the program ends with the two of you holding each other close, his arms wrapped around your waist and your palms holding his cheeks, foreheads resting against each other.

Perhaps you can make out Namjoon and Hoseok shouting from the sidelines, Taehyung yelling from his spot on the benches nearby, but all you can feel is Jungkook’s hot breath fanning out over your skin, and the warmth of his body as he tugs you in tightly.

Finally, after what feels like a million years too short, you part, nothing but the biggest and brightest smiles breaking out onto your faces. Customary to the tradition, you both bow to the audience, holding each other’s hands as you thank them, turning in each direction so as not to miss a single person.

He lets go of your hand so that you may begin to skate around yourselves, waving to the cheering audience. You skate around each other, getting every part of the arena. You look down into the sidelines and see Namjoon and Hoseok shouting for you, pumping their firsts up in the air. Your vision’s never been the greatest, but is that Namjoon crying?

When you turn back, you see Jungkook skating around as the audience showers the rink in roses and other celebratory flowers. He beams with the light of a thousand suns, and you wonder if you stare at him for too long, if you’ll go blind. And then you decide that even so, falling in love with him isn’t so bad.

After the applause dies down, you and Jungkook skate back to the exit, where Namjoon is happily holding your skate guards as he waits for you. As you step onto the pavement, he pulls you both in for a bone-crushing hug, words muffled from how excited he is.

“You did it!” Hoseok says as he comes bounding over, giving you a high-five that’s definitely going to sting for a while. “I’m so proud of you guys! I knew you wouldn’t let me down!”

You and Jungkook are both equally terrible at responding to compliments, and the feeling of them coming in by the dozen overwhelms you slightly. But, before you can walk over to the platform to receive your scores, you feel someone wrapping their arms around your torso.

“You just fucking murdered everyone!” Taehyung shouts, loud enough for the other couples to hear as they pass by you. “We’re all deceased! All of us!”

You laugh, pulling in Taehyung for the biggest one-legged hug you’ve ever received. When you part, he grins.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m so fucking glad I broke my leg,” Taehyung tells you, and the comment both horrifies you and flatters you.

Not a moment after, Namjoon is patting your back and motioning for you to join him and Jungkook on the bench at the platform where you will receive your scores, find out if you’ve won gold. You scurry over, taking a soft seat next to Jungkook as his hands instinctively come to grab onto yours, holding them tight as you look up at the scoreboard.

What happens next is mostly a blur.

You can only catch a quick glimpse of your names, being moved up to first place, before you hear Namjoon shout as he pumps his fist in the air. Suddenly, you feel Jungkook wrapping himself around you, pulling you in for the tightest hug of your life as tears suddenly begin to well up in your eyes. It all feels like it’s happening in slow-motion, like your life is a movie and this is the part where all of the music and dialogue cut out and there is nothing left but slow-motion film.

And then, Jungkook’s palms are on your cheeks and he meets your eyes with his crescent ones, and he kisses you.

In front of thousands of people, on national television, he kisses you. And you’ll be damned if you don’t kiss back. The audience erupts into cheers yet again, but you drown them out with the feeling of his lips on yours. He is warm and bright and wonderful, and his lips are as soft and as sweet as you had hoped. Jungkook kisses you on national television, in front of skaters, judges, audience members, and you feel like the world has stopped but you keep going. You feel like you’re floating off into space, and the stars are beautiful but so is Jungkook.

You part, heavy breaths and heaving chests, before Jungkook tugs you up from where you were seated on the bench so that you can wave once more. Not only are you gold-medalists in a national competition, but you are also lovers.

Though perhaps, you always have been.

(Later, at the medal ceremony, you and Jungkook are standing high on the top of the podium, unable to hold back your smiles. With bouquets in your hands and medals around your necks, you turn to Jungkook and he squeezes your hand tightly in response, and you feel like you can conquer the world.)

On the way back to the hotel room, the adrenaline rush slowly filtering out of your system with each passing second, you glance down to your interlocked hands and wonder aloud: “When did you realize you loved me?”

Jungkook seems caught off guard, pausing in the lobby of your posh hotel as he begins to think. You turn to face him, looking at him with curiosity lacing your features.

“I know,” he says, as if he’s just had a mental contemplation with himself to discern the moment in its entirety. “When we were doing that trust exercise, and you crashed me into the wall.”

“That was when you fell in love with me?” You ask in shock, mouth dropped open.

“Well, no, not really,” Jungkook reasons carefully. “I think I had fallen in love with you a while before then. But then, when I pulled off the scarf and saw you keeling over with laughter, I realized it.”

You hum, nodding at his response as you begin to slowly but surely make your way to the elevators. Ever since the win, it seems that time has just gotten progressively slower, like it’s beginning to cater to all of the lost time you and Jungkook share.

“What about you, hmm? When did you fall in love with me?” He asks cheekily, nudging your arm gently as he pushes the up button on the wall.

“Did I fall in love with you?” You jokingly say, furrowing your brows as you pretend to debate the topic. Jungkook pouts, and his face is just too cute to resist. “I fell in love with you the first time we had gotten on the ice together. Namjoon made us skate laps while holding each other’s hands, and while my mind didn’t initially register it, my heart realized that you were the person I had been waiting for.”

Jungkook grins at your answer, leaning down to nuzzle your nose gently with his own. The elevator door opens beside you, the familiar ding echoing throughout the end of the hallway.  Jungkook smiles, pulling you into compact space and pressing you against the wall as you gasp in surprise. Right as the doors close, he leans in close, his lips dancing over yours.

You lose track of time when you’re with Jungkook. The last thing you can remember is him tugging you out of the elevator once it reached your floor, your collarbones and neck already beginning to blossom with bruises—and not from falling on the ice—and pulling you into his hotel room, shutting the door behind you.

All that’s on your mind, all that is ever on your mind, is Jungkook. The softness of his hair as your fingers entangle themselves in it, tugging on the strands to pull him impossibly closer. The crinkles by his eyes when he smiles as he leans into you, soft pink lips grazing your own, teasing you. The curve of his body, the way you fit so snugly next to it, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to complete each other. He is the final piece of your missing puzzle, the piece you had always thought you’d lost, the one you almost give up on. That is Jungkook in every sense of the word, every electrifying feeling he leaves in a path of fire down your skin.

You kiss. For hours on end, you kiss, unable to get enough of the taste of each other, the feel of your bodies pressed together not in a lustful way, but in a loving way. You sit on his bed for hours and you just kiss, pressing your lips together and refusing to part. He is the air that you breathe.

It’s 2AM when something is finally done.

Namjoon, key card in hand, roughly and abruptly opens the door to his room, knowing fully well what the two of you are doing in there. You part like deer caught in the headlights, jumping back from each other even though it’s only Namjoon, but he’s seen you kiss enough today.

“Alright, out, Y/N,” he orders, much to you and Jungkook’s dismay. He pouts as you stand up, reaching an arm out to touch you a final time. “Stop canoodling.”

“Don’t leave me,” Jungkook begs.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna see her in like, five hours. Calm down, Jeon,” he says, sighing as you make your way to your own room, still hazy from the high, drunk off of his touch. “You can canoodle whenever. You’re together now, aren’t you?”

Taehyung gets his cast off and by the next day, he’s back on the ice despite all warnings from his doctor to Not Do That. You tell him to listen to his physician and lay off the intense physical exercise for a while, considering the bone just healed, but Taehyung insists otherwise.

He’s not your partner anymore, for ice dancing. Obviously, he is not your partner, not when every day you walk in five minutes late to practice with Jungkook on your arm and a coffee mug in your hand. Your noses are always frostbitten from the cold, and you’re always smiling. Namjoon’s learned to accept it, especially since you’re his best ice dancing duo anyway. Taehyung had walked in the day after Nationals, took one look at the two of you, and happily gave up his position as your partner.

His reasoning? “You finally have a refutable love life, Y/N. I’m not gonna fuck that up.”

He’s a single skater now, and Hoseok says he is doing remarkably well for someone who has spent his entire ice skating career thus far relying on another person to do half of the work.

By now, everyone in the country knows who you are. Besides being the reigning national champions, apparently your relationship is just super adorable to a majority of the population, everyone obsessing over how #relationshipgoals you constantly are as you make too many posts about each other on your Instagrams and spend fifteen minutes during interviews talking about what you love about the other person. It seems, to the public at least, that the two of you simply cannot get enough of each other, and while that’s not necessarily true, it’s pretty obvious how infatuated you are with each other.

But hey, nobody’s complaining.

One question you find yourselves getting a lot, with each TV interview and radio show you do, is how you ended up meeting, especially since Jungkook had previously been a solo skater and you had been working with Taehyung. And each time, Jungkook shares a knowing smile with you, one that makes your heart burst into song, and he says, “Well, it all started with a broken leg…”

⇒ hmu with feedback or just talk to me here!

⇒ check out the post-script drabble here!

[myriadimagines]

Hi :) can I please get a Drabble ship with prompt 11 with a guy from Gotham?I’m a girl.18. I’m a social butterfly,always love meeting new people. I am like,,,rly sensitive. And I am a rly jealous person. 5'1, a curvy, fair pale as hell, short hair dyed blue and brown eyes. Basically looks like an emo garden gnome. HUGE nerd If I was on a tv show I'd be the one who like accidentally sees the big event that's all dangerous and begs to tag along and hides and goes anyway I ship you with Jim Gordon!

Characters: Reader x Edward NygmaWarnings: nonePrompts: “Please just pretend to be my date.” Word Count: 470A/N: Originally I thought about shipping you with Jerome, but changed my mind. And I lost it at ‘emo garden gnome’ ajlsdhjkashdas anyway I’m sorry again I couldn’t get this posted on your birthday (happy very late birthday by the way)!!

NOT TAKING ANYMORE REQUESTS!

“y/n.” Ed rushed to your desk, and you looked up from the file you were reading. Planting his hands on your desk, Ed urged, “I need your help. It’s an emergency.”

“Sure.” you immediately got to your feet, grabbing your gun and badge as Ed blinked at you in surprise. “What? You said it was an emergency.”

“Okay, maybe not that much of an emergency.” Ed corrected himself. “I need you to be my date tonight.” 

“What?” you laughed, putting your stuff away. “Why?”

“I may have invited Lee and Jim over for dinner, and for some reason, I let it slip that I have a date so it’d be a double date.” Ed explained rapidly, and you rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes, you can reprimand me later, but please just pretend to be my date.” 

You frowned -- not at the idea that you had to be Ed’s date, but the fact that no one seemed to realise what day it was. You didn’t exactly broadcast it, but after working at the GCPD for so long, you hoped your friends would’ve remembered it was your birthday. Evidently, it seemed like no one remembered, and you felt awkward bringing it up. 

Sighing, you waved your hand as you replied, “Sure.”

“Thank you.” Ed placed his hands on your shoulders, giving you a little shake. “I’ll pick you up tonight. Oh, and... wear something nice.”

You nodded as you watched Ed rush back into the lab. The rest of the day went on rather uneventfully, which you supposed was a good thing. It wasn’t long before you made it back home, choosing a dress to wear as you waited for Ed to pick you up at 7. Sure enough, he rang your doorbell right on the dot, and the two of you drove back to his apartment as he rattled on about something he discovered in the lab. 

You walked up to his apartment, and Ed fumbled with the keys as he said, “Lee and Jim are already instead.”

He opened the door, and you frowned when you realised all the lights were turned off. You instinctively got ready for a fight when Ed switched on the light behind you, and you jumped back in surprise as Lee, Jim, Harvey and others from the GCPD threw confetti at you and yelled, “Surprise!”

“Oh my god!” you yelped, jumping into Ed’s arms, and he chuckled as you realised the whole apartment had been decorated in balloons, with a big banner reading: ‘Happy Birthday y/n!’

“You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?” Ed whispered into your ear, and you looked at him with your mouth open. 

“You jerk!” you laughed, smacking him playfully, before you suddenly grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. “This is the best birthday ever. Thank you, Ed.”

[evexe-n]

30, 34, 37 & 38 please! :D

[40 questions - meme for fic writers]

30. Do you accept prompts?

Ehm, not at the moment? I still have some from a year ago that went unanswered………OTL

Though I always reply to random headcanons/plot ideas sent my way, and I sometimes end up doing a drabble of lil’ ficlet for it, in general I’m very bad at writing what I’m told/asked to write………

34. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

YOU HAVE OPENED THE FLOODGATES. IN SHORT, I HAVE ANGRY EMOTIONS™ ABOUT IT (but below the cut for brevity’s sake. Also this won’t be about the YGO fandom so much as a general rant for all of the fandoms I’m in).

Trigger warnings(?) for brief(?) discussion of the way non-con and all related themes were portrayed in some of the less avory fics I’ve read, for lack of a better term.

Ok so let me start this off by stating that I did, once upon a time, not have as strong an aversion to fics with the non-con/dub-con label as I do now. I never actively seeked them out, but I never flat out refused to read a fic for containing these themes either. It’s how I came across many of the things I’m about to sum up. I’m still of the opinion that if you like reading them or they help you in some way, that’s great!

However, over the years I, personally, have developed a strong dislike of 95% of all dub/non-con fics, because I continuously encountered a lot of things that squick me in those stories. Here’s some specifcs:

In case of the non-con occuring between the main pairing:- I prefer reading fics where I don’t absolutely hate one of the main characters. When I love a pairing enough to want to read/write fic of them, I tend to love both characters equally. Having straight up non-con between them is a surefire way to ick me out- Here’s a point that’s going to come up a lot: often it’s just really OOC. And if it’s not OOC then it usually uses tropes like sex pollen/abo/aliens made them do it, which have their own subset of problems. Some people don’t mind OOC portrayals, but I am not one of those people

In case of the non-con happening between one main character + someone else (usually an antagonist):- I get it, you need an evil ex. For plot reasons. But I guarantee you there’s about 99 more creative ways to make this person a douche without immediately going the full-out non-con route. Especially when it’s an established character for whom it would be completely OOC.- Not every villain has to lust after/prey on your protagonist, it’s ok. Sometimes they can just be murderous psychopaths or megalomaniacs without the added sexual predator vibes. I promise you they’ll still creep me out. You lose shock value when you make every villain have the same motivation (namely, subjugating your protagonist by fucking them) so maybe switch it up every so often?- Alternatively: just because ‘rapist’ is shorthand for ‘evil asshole’ doesn’t mean every evil asshole in your fic has to be a rapist.

Just general things about dub/non-con fics that squick me out:- Please, I’m begging you all, stop using rape as a plot device to create drama and prolong the resolution of your fic. This is aimed at those fics that are going along nice and steady, nearly all loose threads are resolved when suddenly, oh no, kidnapped by the abusive ex/someone got taken advantage of after they got drunk at a party/etc! Fics where rape is treated as nothing more than another bump in the road that the couple needs to overcome to be together is just, yikes.(This does NOT refer to the fics where the author has a story to tell specifically about dealing with (sexual) abuse and and trauma. When it’s the entire focus of the fic, it’s usually treated with due respect instead of ‘ok and then A got raped by C but B still loves A so they’re all ok again in 2k words bc true luv’)- I heavily dislike power imbalances/abuse of authority, and this can be played up beyond belief in non-con- So often I’ll see the ‘dub-con’ tag used for something that, by all means, should be labeled non-con. I’m willing to accept ‘these two idiots are pining for each other but think it’s unrequited, both get drunk and make out/sleep together while intoxicated oh no’ as a dub-con, maybe. If only one of them is drunk? If both are drunk but one is explicitly saying no? If they’re under the influence of outside forces (ye olde ‘sex pollen’ trope)? That moves from dub-con into non-con territory imo, because either only one party could give full consent, or none could. I don’t care how enthusiastic they were about it Deborah, your a/b/o heatfic still has a total lack of clear-minded consent- Here’s the big one that I wish I had never encountered, but I have: fics where non-con/rape is described in detail, as in, it’s treated as if it’s just a run-of-the-mill PWP fic and written as if I’m supposed to find this sexy????? UHM??? I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to find this traumatizing to read, and I am, but for all the wrong reasons.

There is the remaining 5% of fics tagged dub/non-con that I CAN read, and even love sometimes though, just to be clear.

Fics where the dub/non-con happened in the past, off-screen. The further removed from the act itself, the more likely I am to be able to read it. I don’t have a problem with reading about trauma aftermath, I have trouble reading romantizations of non-con.

I can read PWP fics involving bdsm scenes of rape fantasies, but even then it has to be established that the two people about to engage in this scene are all on board or I’ll close the tab in 0.001 seconds flat

Fics dealing with the aftermath of canonical abuse/rape/trauma/etc. If only because these fics are often written by salty fans, so they rarely glorify the acts that were depicted in canon and include a fair amount of knowledge (or research at the least) on both the characters and their traumas. These fics I do seek out sometimes to get closure for something canon glossed over. If you think this point is about comics, it is. Specifically about Dick Grayson (Robin I/Nightwing). I’m willing to throw hands about both the Mirage and the Tarantula incidents they put him through and then handwaved away. Don’t get me started on that Deathstroke and Terra thing back in the day either.

Tl;dr - I prefer my fics consensual, that’s the baseline here.

37. Talk about your current wips.

...................suffering. That’s it that’s all my WIPs thanks for coming to my TED talk.

On a more serious note, I think most people that follow me know that the big WIPs are the 5SOD one and WDMC. WDMC is next in line to be updated as of now, but fuck if I know when I’ll get around to writing the end of that chapter. For a fic where I already know the entire plot, writing it sure isn’t going smooth =-=

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

I don’t think I could name a singular review that made my day, so much as all reviews do that for me? And this does include tags on reblogs for fic updates on tumblr, those are amazing to read.

Basically I just crave validation and feedback, so I thrive on every single comment I get. The YGO fandom especially spoiled me with this, because y’all just seem to love leaving comments??? I’m so happy with it, but it was one hell of a culture shock when I wrote stuff for other fandoms afterwards & comments came in less often.

here’s a fun little comparison, because I love analyzing my fic stats!

YGO, sorted by kudos:

vs my other stuff sorted by kudos

(I’m not shaming the other fandom btw, they are rly generous with their kudos and I love them for it, it just took some getting used to because of the different levels of feedback that I got. Unless it’s chaptered fics, that one did really well for some reason :’) )

That being said, I get really giddy when people comment on fics that I consider personal favorites. For YGO, Hypnagogia is one of them, as is The Flower Speaks (for the sheer amount of effort I put into it haha).