#u know when dogs and animals bite stuff because they can

[longevitus]

Bites at strange objects, because he doesn’t really get is going on but he’s hungry, and maybe some of these strange items could be food! He’s never been good at hunting, but scavenging? Sort of.

[yestrday]

do u have ayato or heizou crumbs 🐦

you might like: genshin hybrids au

let's do some hybrid crumbs because i miss my animal harem:

ayato 🦈

while ayato's lounging around the house, ayato has a bluish-grey tint to his skin with scales covering some parts, often at the end of his limbs, his temples, and his neck. he's got rows of small yet sharp teeth and a long scaly tail coming out from just the end of his spine.

ayato has been living at the mansion even before the mansion was built. minding his business... chilling in the lake, till some construction workers ruined it for him. he would've honestly ripped them all to shreds if it weren't for the fact that he saw cute lil you peeking out from behind your father's back

he shares the lake with most of the water-based animals, although he has a territorial feud with neuvillette. he knows it's a losing battle for him though, so ever since the water dragon moved in he's been hanging out at the mansion more often

if there's the unofficial security team (glorified stalkers) then there's the sortaaa official education team. your dad commissioned zhongli to take care of your homeschooling and prepare you for your debut in society. zhongli has appointed ayato to brush youu up on etiquette

as with all the other tail-having animals in the mansion, he also likes to wrap his tail around your legs. but while their furry tails evoke a sense of comfort and warmth within you, his sandpaper-like tail makes chills run up your spine.

to make matters worse, he likes scaring you with his spiky teeth. they might be small, but they're numerous, and the teasing glint in his eyes make you second guessing what he might do. he often likes to nip playful little bites along your skin while you're cuddled on his lap. if you squirm too much and distract him from his work, he bites you as a warning. he often gets scolded by thoma as the dog hybrid patches up your wound.

kinda has a bad rep in your house. he doesn't show his face often, and when he does he likes to pull small pranks that he doesn't even bother owing up to.

heizou 🦉

around your house, heizou's hybrid form has two puffy reddish-brown wings protruding from his back and feathery talon-legs. in the dark, you can often spot him thanks to his round, glowing eyes.

there's a village on the foot of the hill where your mansion resides, and heizou is pretty famous around there. there's no thrilling mystery there, but he likes to help out people find their missing pets and whatnot.

when your managerial team (neuvi, zhongli, ayato) needs to sleuth something out (get dirt on your rivals <- usually ayato, try to protect you from possible danger <- neuvi & zhongli, get the upperhand <- ayato again), they often go to heizou. he often takes the commission with glee (moreso if ayato commissions it)

enjoys his position on your shoulder, though he has to fight most of the avian hybrids for it. he makes these pleasant hoot noises whenever you scratch his head juuust right. when he's feeling a bit mischievous, he will suddenly pop into his human form so he can squish you under his weight

makes these hoot noises in between his words, has a slightly higher pitch when pronouncing 'oo' sounds. he doesn't quite care much about this habit when he's in the mansion, but in more human company he finds himself slipping a bit and gets embarrassed about it.

doesn't really care much for preening his feathers, but the other avians pester him about it so it still gets preened. he thinks he can do more useful stuff than just sitting in a circle with the other avians and preening each other's feathers.

a bit flirty with almost everyone and anyone under the sun. he doesn't fail to throw flirty remarks towards the other hybrids just to mess with them, but he gets a bolder when it's with you. no matter your personality, you've still got a bit of naivete thanks to your sheltered upbringing, and he likes to take advantage of it.

[umeoniii]

aot women beige flags!

٩( 'ω' )و

mikasa, hange, annie, sasha, ymir, pieck

~

mikasa:

☆ gets super sick easily

and these sicknesses literally beat her ass

she just has a super weak immune system

can go out one time then when she comes back home she’s literally stuck in bed like it’s her dying days.

a common cold for her is like the plague

it seems as if she’s an old victorian child lying in her bed asking her mother for bread and water.

☆ somehow physic

not so much now, it’s not like she has powers

but she has a ‘6th sense’ and she can tell when something bad is going to happen

first time she did it you thought she was joking around

but then she was right because the building next to you caught fire (cooking error…)

you were totally scared of her after that bcs what if she was behind it

then you forgave her (she did nothing wrong?) and tried to convince her to give you a fortune

then she proceeded to tell you that’s not what the sixth sense is for

hange:

☆ really likes playing games

hanges a sore loser though.

this is super funny

super competitive with stuff like board games and video games. and she takes it seriously.

when she loses she takes it to heart.

she’ll throw a temper tantrum and get upset and everything.

she’ll do anything to win as well. cheats and switches the game all she wants, especially when she’s actually winning. but when you try to do it it’s all “no no that’s not how you play!”

you DO NOT want to play uno with hange. enough said

☆ makes impressions of people in public.

let’s say you’re in the car parked and you see a couple sitting on the bench talking.

she’ll give them names and make a voice and act what she thinks is their conversation.

it’s far funnier than it sounds.

if she sees a couple and their friend,

“eh barbra? i didn’t know you were gonna invite your annoying friend, you know how much i hate her!” she’d snicker while staring at the three people

and there’s actually times where you hate it bcs of how unserious she acts.

sometimes she would invite you along to voice someone else

and she would just sit and laugh like it’s the funniest thing ever!

annie:

☆ bargain queen

has coupons for everything in the whole wide world

she has all the apps for everyplace she goes so she’ll get some kind of deal.

her total at the grocery store would go from $135 to $80 bcs she’s a diehard user of coupons

she makes u use them as well and stuffs some in your wallet

she’s a karen for these things as well

if the price tag says it’s ‘$3.12’ then it’s ‘$3.12’ whether the seller says “well that’s last weeks price”

she’ll say “well maybe you should’ve changed it, how would the manager feel if i told them you’re not doing youre job?”

and she’d get it for $3.12

☆ greets an animal before she greets a person

if she seems someone she knows walking their dog she won’t even look at them let alone speak to them

she’ll crouch and pet the dog and start baby talking to them before she gets up and says something to the walker

she actually likes animals a lot

more than ppl

she’d have some kind of shirt displaying that as well

“im more of a dog person than a people person”

sasha:

☆ cant stay on track in a conversation

she could be talking to you about something she heard about someone. then she’ll be like, “speaking of her i remember when me and her went out for these awesome burgers.”

THEN she’ll say “wait because i was actually contemplating going vegan…. what do you think?”

the whole convo switches topics every 2 minutes or so.

you get so confused as to how the conversation went from work drama to when she thinks the world is going to end.

☆ takes the first bite of your food

it’s an unspoken rule.

she doesn’t even say “to test it for poison” she just does it because she wants

trying something new? she gets the first bite. you haven’t ate all day? she still gets the first bite. it’s your favorite food in the whole wide world? two words: first. bite.

and it’s not even a small bite, it’s the BIGGEST chomp she could take.

you’ve gotten so used to it that you don’t care. you just shove it in her face.

because if you were being honest if she just suddenly stopped you’d be concerned and sad.

ymir:

☆ cannot take some things seriously

she could be out w you at a restaurant and see this waiter’s name on their tag

“gaylord”

it’s not even pronounced “gay lord” but “gaylerd”

she’ll turn around and start hysterically laughing she doesn’t even care that the waiters right there

you can tell her a story from work or something that’s completely serious and she’ll still laugh no matter what

☆ lies out of her ass for no reason

you could tell her you tried some cool new exotic food and she’ll be like

“oh i had that when i was 5 and i almost died because i’m allergic to the spices in it”

and it’s kind of obvious it’s a lie but you don’t even say anything bcs she rides hard to defend herself and say it’s the truth

she’ll even go as far as editing photos and calling other people so it would be more believable

she sometimes doesn’t even lie to be funny but just out of habit

these aren’t bad kind of lies and she tells the truth when needed but she still b lyin..

pieck:

☆ cannot save money for her life

she can put aside some money for important stuff and it would be gone in a flash

worst part is the money is wasted on totally useless stuff

like finger puppets

what are you gonna do with finger puppets when you’re stranded for miles?

tries harder to not let it happen

then it happens again and she tries to justify it by saying that maybe a corn butterer was a great investment

(it wasn’t)

☆ can sleep anywhere at anytime

we all know this don’t we…

but it’s horrible

restaurants, floor, toilet

she could probably go to sleep in the club if she’s tired enough

she doesn’t look dead when she sleeps (unlike connie)

she looks very calm whether she’s in a deep sleep or taking a power nap

and she probably gets a decent amount of sleep at night, she just naps bcs… she wants to?

♡

a/n: at least 3 of these stories are actually real things i’ve faced with friends and family LOL so this is so funny to me. some of these aren’t even beige flags and are lowkey hcs, let’s just pretend alr!

[gothushi]

subtop!rob headcanons

this is lilys fault for fueling my thoughts at 3am. i love rob a normal amount. half of these r bc of her😋

————————♡

• collar him. keep a leash on him whilst ur fucking so u can tug him down to u, or up to u, giving him that rush of asphyxiation and the lustful feel of u pulling him where u want him

• growls and feral noises, gasping, whining, moaning, not very verbal. u call him ur pretty dog and groans and tries to fuck u harder until u snap at him with a tug on the leash

• very physical. tries to manhandle u or push at u when ur being mean, huffing and growling, hair falling in his eyes. grab at his balls and he whines, knees spreading as he lowers down a bit in submission

• when he’s feeling particularly jealous or possessive, he’ll lay between ur legs marking up ur thighs, tummy, tits, huffing out heavy breaths whilst ur petting his hair and cooing softly

• “don’t bite so hard baby” “easy! brat!” “down boy” “ah ah, don’t whine at me.” “i said down”

• loves and hates being tied down with rope. ur an expert and know how to do it correctly, keeping him to the headboard or down against a chair, or even on the floor on his knees unable to touch u. the aftercare u give him is so nice but he hates not being able to touch, to take, yet he relishes in the control u have

• very little does he actually behave. one day u had enough and caged him. he whined and huffed and bitched that he wanted to cum, wanted to get hard, take it off!

• the worst punishment he could ever receive is not being able to cum in u. when he’s super bad make him cum all over ur pussy but not in, watching it drip down over ur hole and down to ur ass and he swears he could cry

• the best reward he could ever receive is getting to breed u over and over. he has amazing stamina and can cum a handful of times in a row. let him go to town whilst u lay back leisurely holding his leash, he’ll fuck u like a damn fleshlight growling and groaning, thanking his pretty thing for letting him breed her

• has to be worked up to prostate massages. after lots of training him to get used to anything down there, slide a long finger in and curl it up over and over, rubbing on that spot and it’ll make him cum instantly when ur going down on him.

• bites. bites hard. growls like some feral little animal and huffs through his nose, his eyes rolling back. careful sticking ur fingers in his mouth because he will break skin and then fuss over it once he’s come down

• loves cockwarming. massaging his cum throughout ur pussy, pushing it in nice and deep before collapsing onto u, spooning u, light thrusts. u both wake up two hours later and fuck again because he’s humping u like a dog

• so handsy. such a pervert. always wants to fuck. ur cooking dinner and he comes in grinding against u. ur folding laundry and he comes in tackling u to the bed with kisses. ur watching tv and he kneels down between ur legs to start eating u out.

• speaking of, loves eating u out whilst ur doing other stuff. mundane tasks whilst he’s suckling at ur clit. sloppy with it, makes a big mess of drool and ur slick/cum. will wake u up eating u out, begging to fuck ur pussy, please sugar i need it

• sometimes when u don’t feel like getting fucked, u’ll straddle him and fuck him with a fleshlight, bouncing as if it’s u. it’s absolute torture to watch his own cum get wasted in the toy, growling and snarling because it does feel good but he wants it to be u

• “bad dog.” “nnnngh-“ “bad fucking dog. get down.”

• one time when u were riding him u almost fell, orgasming and ur hand found his neck instead of his chest. he immediately came with his heart hammering against his chest and that’s how u find out he likes being choked. u bought the collar not long after

• he loves taking baths with u or cuddling after, or ordering food and watching something, but his favorite aftercare is how u caress him. knelt before you or laid against ur chest, his pretty eyes all wide and hazy, brows furrowed up as he stares up at u getting pet over his cheek and hair.

• pull his hair. yank him around by it, it’ll make him curse and growl, trying to smack at ur hand, slap him.

• marks u up a lot. bruises, bite marks, love bites, scratches. definitely takes care of them after, ices any bad ones, puts neosporin on the scratches, kisses the booboos with a quiet little sorry

• the only time uve ever seen him cry during sex was the first time u fucked him with one of those strap ons that u fill with fake cum. paired with that sticky cum like lube all over his hole, the feeling of surprise he had when he felt it squirting inside him was unbelievable. he was on his knees, back arched, fist pounding at the bed, twitching and trembling as cum dripped from his cock, before he collapsed onto the bed and shuddered with aftershocks. sticky fake cum leaking all over his hole, down his balls and cock, his cheeks wet with tears as his eyes flutter and he sniffles

[masckarlach]

OC questions tag meme!

THANK U USER FRAY @bg3 FOR TAGGING ME!!

i will be doing only wren bc ill be so honest theyre the only bitch ive developed

under cut :3

Name:

wren!! chose virtue name harmony but doesnt use it bc she thinks its cringe (subject to change throughout game, not Quite sure)

Nickname(s):

tavernkeeps tend to call them birdie or little bird :p other than that, their older sister calls them spots a lot (due to her little boney growths along their forehead and cheeks)

Gender:

wren doesnt think about gender much other than their chest is a nuisance. they dont think abt it in the sense that being a woman isnt something they necessarily like. see themself as similarly with being a man itslike. nonbinary by virtue of genuinely just not percieving themself and not wnating to

Star sign:

copypasting frays explanation here!! im not so good at lore stuff so my answer will be... off!

this is a little difficult because realms lore has changed on this a lot, if i'm correct in my information. from people being blessed by stars or entire consellations to each month actually having a sign in more recent lore. here is a link anyone doing this for realms ocs (like bg3 ocs) can use to figure this out! the lore on stars and consellations in the realms is spotty at best, but this could be helpful if you wanna go that route!

wren was born at the end of marpenoth, a few days from the start of uktar :3 their sign is praying mantis but i dont know what this means

Height:

just wanted to show wrenlach height giff :3

Orientation:

wren themself isnt too sure of this. theyre pretty sure theyre not into men but they like... havent really explored much outside of flirting with everyone they meet. they dont know but i do. trheyre a nonbinary lesbian.

Nationality/Ethnicity:

wrens an Unspecified Tiefling with a human mother born and raised and living pre Worm Abduction in the lower city of baldurs gate

Favourite fruit:

wren likes apples and pears :3 they think they taste like sand but they like the taste of sand

Favourite season:

wren likes whenever its not too hot and not too cold and not too windy and not too polleny. consitution (8) of a sheltered victorian noble child

Favourite flower:

wren likes potato flowers :3 theyve always been more of a herb person than a flower person truth be told

Favourite scent:

freshly baked bread. when its still soft. a little luxury she afforded herself once in a while whilst in baldurs gate, occasionally given as payment for a days work. wren likes the smell of bread.

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate:

given the lack of monster energies in faerun lets go coffee. she thinks it tastes like pee pee and poo poo but shotguns it bc it makes her buzz

Average hours of sleep:

anywhere between 1 and 24 hours. roll a dice baby.

Dog or cat person:

wrens an equal opportunities animal enjoyer. dogs maybe. bc wren likes birds and cats keep killing her friends

Dream trip:

wren would like to stay home tbh. adventuring has made them grow as a person bc if they had their way theydve stayed curled up with the artifact in an abandoned house theyd found

Favourite fictional character:

the mermaid from the mermaid smut book wyll, wylls dad and shart have read.

Number of blankets they sleep with:

ideally every blanket in existence. they can make do with 1, maybe even none but they will complain abt being cold and the lack of pressure

Random fact:

wren bites their fingers so her hands are always chapped and bleeding

TAGS!!!!!!!!!!

@bigfatlesbian @oyyokat @orkbutch @lesbianshadowheart @atomicbouquet-heart and anyone else who wants 2 :p

[jeanbie]

Hii!! 💗 I have only just discovered ur account but I love it :D And I wanted to ask if u could do : "how would aot characters feel about cats?" IDK I JUST FIND THIS CUTEE 😤🤩

AOT! AND CATS ★ masterlist.

⏤ eren

likes cats, but thinks dogs are better

always tries too hard to be liked by said cat and has a million cat-related wounds on his hands and arms

eren can be heavy handed and so he’s worried cats will dislike him because he likes to play rough

likes watching cute cat reels on instagram though and makes the effort to say hi to armin’s cat when he gets the chance

⏤ armin

adores cats

his mum had a cat when he was younger and then they adopted a second cat when he got a bit older

his cat is an off-white colour with big blue eyes

armin understands the personality of cats and is perfectly content letting his cat do whatever she wants when she feels like it

is the type of cat-dad/brother who buys way too much stuff for their cat

armin could be on his last few pennies of the month and he’d still somehow end up with money to buy something stupid for his cat

⏤ mikasa

prefers cats to dogs, mostly because she gets scared when dogs jump up and bark

mikasa always tends to attract cats when she’s at somebody’s house, and has a knack for beckoning over strays she sees on the street

she is usually the receiver of the reels eren finds on instagram so she always likes watching cute cat videos too

really wants a cat of her own but she doesn’t know if she’d be a good owner

she’d worry about stepping on it or not feeding it or not giving it the love it needs or wants

⏤ jean

feels kind of awkward around cats

he doesn’t like their claws or the way they sniff you accusingly and jump around from furniture to furniture

but he tries too hard to get cats to like him and when they don’t, he acts like he doesn’t like cats anyway

he thinks that they’re cute to look at and are very soft but armin’s cat hates his guts and so he has a stick up his ass about cats

⏤ connie

likes cats a lot

does not care when they scratch him or bite him

he will baby talk to the cat, carry it like a baby, he’ll annoy it to death

probably actually allergic to cat fur but likes cats too much so he won’t confess to it

⏤ sasha

same as connie, she likes cats more than cats like her

but she’s not allowed to be around armin’s cat because she gets too excited and shares her snacks and cats aren’t allowed to eat some foods

she’s probably tried to eat cat food or cat treats before just out of curiosity

tries to communicate with the cat and swears on her life that once the cat meowed in reply

⏤ historia

has a special way with cats

looks literally regal when they’re on her lap and owns a cat herself

her cat probably eats high brand foods and is on a special diet and has the cleanest fur and a princess castle tower

gets very emotional when cats go missing in her neighbourhood

and gets quite protective of her animals

⏤ ymir

doesn’t like cats

pretends to like historia’s cat because she knows that if historia was going to pick one over the other, then she’d pick the cat

ymir has personal beef with historia’s cat and will call it names or talk shit about it when historia’s not in the room

doesn’t care for the way they scratch you for no reason sometimes

tries to drop hints that historia’s cat wants to kill her to see if historia will get rid of it (never works)

⏤ reiner

forgets that cats aren’t the same as dogs

used armin and historia’s cats as weights when they all got together one time and nearly lost an eye when armin’s cat declared war

never gets personally offended when cats don’t care about him and will always find them cute when they walk into the room

probably likes dogs more though

doesn’t know how to have fun with a cat

⏤ berthold

really loves cats but feels shy when he’s around them

is too timid to stroke them and feels anxious when they jump on him or on his lap

one time he fell asleep like a cat would and now everybody brings it up when a cat is sleeping in the same room as him

“ha looks like you bertie”

⏤ annie

does like cats but an average amount

couldn’t see herself owning any pets personally but she’ll never treat other pets differently

respects that cats need their privacy and time alone, much like she does

strokes behind their ears if they come near her but mostly she will let it wander around without fuss

⏤ levi

really likes and respects cats

he likes dogs a lot too but not for the same reason that he likes cats

he tends to be a lure for cats and they like to snuggle on his lap, mostly because he doesn’t do much to make a cat feel anxious or stressed out

he doesn’t like when cats (or dogs) leave a mess on the floor or on clothes but if its not his pet then he doesn’t care about what state they leave someone else’s room in

likes to play with the feather wand with cats because it maintains that space between the two of them

⏤ erwin

lets stray cats into his house when its cold and gets confused when they try and come back in on a later date

always looks at cats to buy online but never does

he will always love dogs that bit more but he thinks cats are very adorable

but he’s not sure if his dog will love a cat the same way

⏤ hange

is fascinated by cats

genuinely believes that cats have magical powers and 9 lives and probably talks to cats as if they can understand them

they hold them like they’re antiques or science experiments, like they needs to observe their frame

laughs when they are attacked by them

tests cats boundaries without realising that they're overdoing it

⏤ zeke

ponders life to the cat

tries to hug the cat like its a stuffed animal and when he gets attacked he takes it really personally

⏤ gabi and falco

once pulled on the tail of a cat, got attacked and are now deathly afraid

falco wants to like cats but he’s just too damn scared

⏤ other warriors

indifferent

pieck would be the best with cats out of the warriors, definitely tries to act like a cat sometimes to everybody’s discomfort

[leclerced]

https://www.tumblr.com/enchantecafe/738785748047806464/httpswwwtumblrcomenchantecafe738701264923328

No bc my brother would make fun of him!! He’d tell him that everyone gets their own giant ass Mettigel to eat raw and he’d be so relieved to know there’s just one where everyone takes bits off to put on their bread😭

And we make so much kale for the whole family! We eat it when everyone comes for my grandpa’s birthday in November and the rest gets canned up to last until next November (it lasts until February max). I swear, do you know how dogs get possessive and aggressive about their food? Thats me and my brother when my grandma divides the leftover kale, we’re like rabit animals 😭 + i wanna add i make a mean asparagus soup

Also please rant about your Christmas dinner, i love listening to people rant

🫀

no lando hearing he has to eat the entire thing on his own and its raw? he’s debating if he wants to marry this woman like he’s been dreaming about if it means a lifetime of eating a hedgehog made of raw meat. he thinks it looks like one of those cake fails, like someone tried making a hedgehog but it’s from his nightmares. he's so relieved when he just gets a single slice and he can take a few bites or avoid it by saying his trainer or nutritionist banned raw meat 😭

thats sm kale i have genuine eaten kale maybe once in my life and i took a nibble and spit it out. i cannot imagine having sm that u store it for months. i am sadly… not a veggie girl. im also not a soup girl generally but asparagus soup kinda sounds good! how do you make it?

my biggest rant about thanksgiving dinner was that the only sides were creamed asparagus and sweet potato casserole, neither of which are things i eat. im picky but i have been cooking dinner since i was like ten, so. i got to pick what was cooked and i know how to cook the things i like so im not annoying ab it. one of my aunts brought stuff to make mashed potatoes which is like my specialty and one of my fav foods. y’know what my grandma does? she makes my aunt take the shit home. says we don’t have time to cook them before dinner. i was upstairs when this happened and i didn’t know about the lack of edible sides until i was called down for dinner. i tried the creamed asparagus thinking like, i like grilled asparagus how bad can it be??

found out on the drive home that my aunt brought potatoes and was sent home with them, and i was like ‘someone should have told me that there weren’t going to be potatoes and i would have complained. you can’t have thanksgiving without potatoes.’ i am still bringing it up randomly to my siblings like ‘hey remember that awful creamed asparagus?’

i will say my family is very nice and always makes sure everyone eats, on family vacations i would skip meals bc they would cook smth i didnt like and everyone would be trying to make me other food while i ate fruit for dinner because they did a shrimp boil knowing i do not eat seafood. my grandma once offered me nachos and i got really excited and then she put tortilla chips on a cookie tray and then sprinkled shredded cheese on it and toasted it. imo nachos are chips and queso and stuff so when she brought me a plate of shredded cheese melted on chips i was very disappointed but i ate the entire thing bc what else do u do when ur grandma makes u food??

[actualbird]

my personal ranking of the top 3 most attractive things luke pearce did in his personal story 3

because before i can allow my brain to have cool thoughts about character development and story progression, i need to exorcise my ridiculous simping

-

number 3: this scene but not just for the reason ur thinking of

let me get "the reason ur thinking of" out of the way immediately because yes, yes this scene is so hot to me because Hands and Mouth and please, im a simple guy, i see my favorite character and Hands and Mouth and i am satisfied! and here luke is, putting on his gloves while biting the other, I AM SATISFIED!

however, what really got me here was the other things he did. or rather, the stuff he used for it. because this scene has me blown away. cuz like

A REVERSIBLE JACKET AND CONVERT-ABLE BAG?????? LUKE PEARCE, HELLO???

it's so simple but so useful, this is a swiss army knife of a man. in sott, hes just pulling out all the needed stuff for resin molds outta nowhere and here he is similarly ready with this shit. hes got gadgets and gizmos aplenty, hes got whozits and whatsits galore, and you want thingamabobs? hes modded PLENTY.

i digress. this scene is so attractive to me because it just makes me realize that i wanna go shopping with luke pearce at North Face and we'll geek out about pockets and modular clothing //SIGHS LONGINGLY

-

number 2: meowing

ive already freaked out about this before but i will Do It Again. he meows. he MEOWS. not just in the jp dub, but in s-cn dub too, and i hope this is also true in the other 2 language dubs cuz POV: LUKE PEARCE MEOWS AT A STRAY CAT TO PSPSPSPSS IT TOWARDS HIM!!!

yes yes he was meowing to cats for Investigation reasons but DAVIS in the Fieldwork function says that he sees luke often preoccupied with stray cats, so even for non-investigation purposes, hes gonna be meowing at strays. hes gonna be crouching to the ground with a can of cat food and meowing and all the stray cats of south stellis have pledged their loyalty to this strange man who has the vibes of a dog and constantly hangs around a bird but is also very kind to cats

the animal population of stellis city has undoubtedly decreed luke pearce as the Goodest Boy. and u KNOW thats when a dude is top tier

-

and saving the best for last

the bit that rlly made me go OH HONEY, TURNS OUT YOU ARE HUSBAND MATERIAL

it issssss //drumroll

number 1: putting a fitted sheet onto a mattress easily

luke pearce, hand in marriage now. i told my girlfriend about this bit and she agrees that this is the hottest thing ever, and we're both right. and idk how im supposed to explain this further, it's HOT. IT'S SO HARD PUTTING SHEETS ON A BED (OR MAYBE I JUST SUCK AT IT) AND LUKE PEARCE DOES IT EASY PEASY NO PROBLEM.

luke pearce may be absolute shit at cooking, but he DO THE CLEANING, he DO THE BED MAKING, he DO THE CAPTURING OF MY WHOLE AND ENTIRE HEART!!

[fourtownie]

kinda random 4town headcanons 😵‍💫

robaire

- oldest of the group hes 25 and he's an aries

- leader of the group

- he's got a deep voice when he talks but an angelic voice when he sings 🤭

- dad #1

- also can rap and dance hes an all rounder frl

- first to join the group

- cannot do the jerk ☹️

- the kind of guy that can learn things very fast

- good at painting but doesn't paint often

- born in southern france and he stills has an accent when he talks french

- choco mint ice cream truther

- likes some physical affection but prefers to wording his affection

- almost as tall as z but he's 5"11

- dad sneeze

jesse

- single dad of twins

- second oldest hes 24 and he's a leo

- singer and dancer what a king

- him and robaire were kinda friends before the group and robaire convinced him of joining

- second to join the group

- lactose intolerant

- cannot handle spice

- white body goated with the sauce

- he's a natural brunette and dyed his hair blonde

- had an emo phase

- dad #2

- hes bi because i said so

- shows affection thru gifting things idk

- 5'10

- his laugh is like "haha"

aaron t

- hes the third oldest hes 22 and he's a taurus

- mainly a dancer but he sings and he's bass

- will randomly do a backflip he's crazy like that

- him and z has been friends since they were kids and became friends just because they had the same name

- has a whole lot of freckles

- ate dirt as a kid

- broke his leg at some point

- steals clothes from the other members

- mint choco ice cream hater

- climbs trees

- likes dogs sm

- best cook of the group his food will make ur toes curl frl

- his hair is weirdly long but he doesn't want to cut it

- bites people ( affectionate )

- literally will eat anything

- high body temperature

- big fan of physical affection

- 5'8 because i said so

- laughs like a hyena

- deep voice when he sings average voice when he talks

- gets exited easily and jumps on them when he's happy

- shows his emotions easily

- like you'll know if u made upset

aaron z

- second youngest hes 22 and he's a scorpio

- dancer rapper and singer like okay all rounder

- only a few months younger than t but t always calls him a baby or whatever

- t joined the group with him they were the last ones to join

- was an athlete when he was in high school

- likes physical affection only with specific people

- the tallest hes 6 feet tall

- not really into sports as much as he was when he was younger

- reads a lot

- likes romance books 🤭🤭

- hes not secretive abt it tho he likes cheesy stuff

- caught up with memes and trends

- his favorite color has been red since he was young

- he tries to learn french but he gets frustrated every time he tries to speak it

- gets easily irritated but not with his loved ones

- very laid back and chill

- kinda awkward in certain situations

- lots of "hummm" and "err.." when he talks

- messy handwriting

- very interested in fashion

tae

- the youngest he's 19 and he's a virgo

- joined after jesse

- singer and dancer yass king

- likes animals more than humans

- when he was like 4 his parents got him a fish and he's been obsessed with animals since

- matches his nails with his outfits

- hes 5'8 too

- he reads a lot too

- but he reads any genre

- he has 4 cats

- all the members live in a dorm and he has the biggest room

- his room is the best decorated like posters everywhere figures on shelves plants on the desk

- he listens to a lot of ballads

- he watches horror movies even tho he knows he gets easily scared

- he and t pull pranks on the other members

- he draws in his free time

- his art style is the kinda style that every artist started with uknow the anime one

- he doesn't have a favorite color he just likes all of them

- his sexuality is unlabeled

- kinda behind in terms of fashion but it's fine he looks good in everything

- he makes fun of jesse and robaire for being old men

- "okay peepaw😂"

[hansolmates]

17 going on 27

summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. pairing; photographer!jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england w/c; 22.6k a/n; it’s that time of the year baby! the time of the year where i binge watch the good ol’ early 2000s romcoms that make absolutely no sense! a huge thank u to @eerieedits​ for making this beautiful banner. vivi got the whole delia’s/claire’s vibe down to a t! 

if you enjoy this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨

March 19th, 2011

Thirty, flirty, and thriving!

You finger the dog-eared magazine, last month’s issue of a shoddy fashion magazine that featured top actress Jennifer Garner on the front cover. Her caramel brown highlights practically glow on the page, blown out and beautiful. You suppress a sigh, you long to be the radiant young woman on the cover. The headline is glittery, sparkly and just begging for attention. 

Swiping a hand through the pages, your eyes are crowded with over-stimulation. Colorful models dressed up in the latest designs, Chanel and Burberry suits you can only dream of, and happy women at the prime of their lives. 

Twenty-seven and in Heaven! You smile wryly at the cheesy rhyme that headlines the following pages, but nevertheless the happy model on the spread does indeed look like they’re in heaven. 

Sure, you’re no shrinking violet. Heck, you don’t even consider yourself painfully average. You may not be on the traditional spectrum of popularity in high school, but you get around and have a wonderful best friend and an even better boyfriend. However given the social classes that preside, you do get those moments where you second guess your life’s position. Good thing high school has an expiration date, and you’re close to the end.  

“Baby Bun, what are you doing?” the magazine is snatched from your grasp, thrown on the table without a care in the world. Jennifer Garner’s hydro-whitened smile gleams tauntingly at you, “reading that junk is gonna mess with your head.” 

Your boyfriend returns from his final suit fitting, his outfit for tonight all pressed and ready to go. He pouts at you, pulling you up by the hand to lead you out of the Men’s Warehouse. Jeon Jungkook. Captain of the lacrosse team, flying by high school with a sports scholarship already in the bag. Eats up attention like plants soak up the sun. Secretly loves taking photographs of his dog and watching Netflix animes at your house. 

“Aren’t you excited for prom?” 

“Excited to listen to LMFAO’s Party Rock Anthem on repeat?” you guaff, “as if.” 

He pinches your arm lightly, “You also forget that we’re gonna tear up the floor to Nicki Minaj’s Superbass.” 

You shrug listlessly, crunching the white plastic closer to your body. 

Before you can suck all the air out of the garment bag, Jungkook carefully extracts it from your grasp, easily holding it between his one arm so he can thread his other hand through yours. “I am excited! It’s just that… Jimin’s not gonna be there and we’re sitting with the Yearbook committee.”

Looking down at the floor you extract your hand from his, slipping into his parent’s Honda Civic. The yearbook committee, meaning you’d be sitting at a table with head editor Jennie and her group of friends. Friends that are popular and pretty, just like Jungkook. 

Jimin is currently on a flight back from Korea due to a family funeral, therefore leaving a seat empty at your prom table. It was only seat that you cared about, other than Jungkook’s. It’s no one’s fault and Jimin of course is doubly upset to miss prom, but without your best friend you’re not sure if you can survive the night. 

One of the few secrets you keep from Jungkook is the fact that Jennie and you aren’t exactly friendly to each other. You don’t know why, maybe it’s the fact that you don’t run the in same friend group or you always win the debate in Civics class, but Jennie clearly expresses her dislike for you as easily as she expresses her love for Jungkook. 

Which makes you incredibly insecure, but Jennie and Jungkook have been friends for longer than you and him have been together, who are you to intervene? 

Jungkook slips in the driver’s seat, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

Right. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriend, and that should matter more than his friendship with Jennie. 

But the smell of his freshly cleaned lacrosse jersey, his duffle bag overflowing with protein powder and unfinished assignments remind you that you have your world and he has his. A conversation about your insecurities could wait until tomorrow. 

“When’s Jimin’s flight?” Jungkook asks, one hand on the steering wheel and the other tapping on your thigh as he pulls out. 

“He’ll be back two hours into the dance,” you report, albeit glumly as you rest your head against the cool window. 

“That sucks,” Jungkook replies, a bit of sadness in his tone, “he has to miss out on his prom night.” 

You shrug, “Prom isn’t everything, it’s about the people you spend it with.” 

“Well then,” he squeezes your thigh, “I’m glad I get to spend it with you.” 

You only have a few hours to get ready until you meet Jungkook at his house for pictures, so when you get dropped off, you tell him that he doesn’t have to get out of the car to escort you into your home. But Jungkook is insistent, putting the car in park and getting out your dress for you with such delicacy that you’re positively sure there’s no wrinkles in the fabric. Taking the dress from his grasp you wish him goodbye and a promise to meet each other later. 

“Wait,” Jungkook is biting his lip, unable to let go of your hand even though you’re already up the stairs. You’re looking down at him, a rarity considering his tall frame. 

“What’s wrong, Kook?” 

“Uh, I was just thinking,” he’s scratching the back of his head, and you soften. The little quirk he has is a sign of insecurity, being the star player Jungkook is forced to exude confidence to a fault. “Maybe, we could skip the prom thing? You said so yourself that prom is about the people you spend it with.” 

Your eyes widen, clutching your dress tighter. “What? Jungkook, that’s ridiculous. Between the both of us we’ve spent a lot of money on the clothes and the tickets.” 

“Right,” he forces a laugh, and you put a hand on your hip to think it out but you can’t quite place what’s going on. “Sorry Bun, I just know how the finale of our favorite anime airs tonight.” 

“You’re so silly,” you chastise, reaching down to pinch his cheek. Normally he hates it, but you can’t help but melt when he leans into your touch a little more. “C’mon, I know suits are stuffy and stuff, but let’s just do this high school rite of passage thing. Afterwards we can go to McDonalds or something and watch the recording.” 

“You’re right,” his face is red, “what was I thinking? Can’t miss out on a night to see my beautiful girlfriend all dressed up.” 

He squeezes your hand one last time, a little too tight for comfort. With a half smile he waves, going into his car and driving off. 

You don’t have time to dwell on his weirdness (and trust when you say that Jungkook is plenty weird and it astounds you how the rest of your class has no idea) so you fly up to your room to get your hair and makeup ready. Your parents greet you excitedly along the way, telling you there’s a package left for you on your vanity.

It’s a plain cardboard box, already cut and unwrapped by your parents for convenience. The address shows it came from Korea, proudly displaying the name of your best friend on the return address. Inside is a beautiful compact, made of brushed gold and pink metal. The makeup inside is a loose glitter from a brand that you don’t recognize, but since it’s a gift from Jimin, you trust his taste. 

I have to be at prom somehow, Jimin’s note on the box reads, don’t overthink and have fun! 

You snort, reading the sticky note over and over in Jimin’s voice. Looking over the shade, you can’t help but grimace at the cliché name. Wishing Dust. The color is a little too white and silvery for your taste, but you’ll wear it in honor of Jimin. 

The dress, the hair, the makeup all come together little by little. You like the ritual of getting ready, building yourself up to the highest order and feeling closer and closer to the beautiful women in magazines. Surprisingly, your favorite part of getting ready is applying the glitter that Jimin gifted you. The puff enclosed is cloud soft, and surprisingly the color doesn’t look too ashen on your skin. The glitter sinks into your skin like a soft butter, accentuating your collarbones and cheeks as if you are glowing from within. 

You smile at yourself in the mirror. A little part of you wishes you could look like this everyday. You wish you could always look and feel this confident, and act mature and graceful. 

A buzzing on your desk stops your wishful thinking, and you frown at the message that lights up your phone. 

Jungkook: sorry bun, but the civic finally broke down and its on its way to car heaven. Could we meet at the party hall instead? We can take pictures there, jennie mentioned yearbook hired a photographer

Disheartened, you send a quick text back saying it’s fine. Any more explanation on your feelings would reveal your disappointment. You don’t know how you’re going to tell your parents that they won’t be taking pictures with your boyfriend anytime soon. So you suck it in and take solo pictures for your parents and some group selfies. This is just one bump in the night, the rest of it should be smooth sailing. 

But when your parents drop you off at the venue your eyes first land on a beat up Honda Civic. You’re pretty sure car heaven isn’t at the prom. 

The rest of your entrance is a blur as you go through every corner of the venue, searching for your boyfriend. You’re clutching his matching flower in your hand, a beautiful red rose with baby’s breath circling around it, all clutched together in a black silk ribbon. You wonder what kind of flower he bought you. 

But it’s nearly impossible to find him. Not at the photobooth, the appetizer buffet, or in the lobby. It’s not until you’re sweating at the brow and nearing the corner of the venue that you do find him.

Lips locked, kissing Jennie. 

The plastic encasing Jungkook’s boutonniere drops, clanging to the ground. 

Whispers of you circle the air, meeting your ears and confirming all your insecurities. 

“Oh my god, I knew Jungkook was cheating on her!” 

“Wow, how pathetic. She ran all the way to prom alone to see this?” 

“I thought his girlfriend was a smart girl. How did she not know that their relationship was a bet all along?” 

Jungkook and Jennie are on the balcony, looking picture perfect in matching formal attire and flowers. The sun is setting, not taking its time as it sinks deeper and deeper into the horizon. The sky darkens and the air is chilly, much like your heart. 

Jungkook's eyes are wide and in shock as he watches you from the balcony, but Jennie’s are sharp and satisfied. Satisfied, as if the whole thing had been orchestrated. 

While you can’t hear him because he’s so far away, you can see the ghost of your name on his lips. Your ears are ringing, numb to the laughter of the students watching and the pity that others are throwing at you. You feel dumb. You feel like throwing up. In a bout of anger your heel digs into the plastic of the boutonniere, crushing the innocent rose in its clear coffin. 

You don’t make it far out the door when one of your favorite teachers snatches you in concern. 

“Honey, any further and you’ll be running on the highway," Mrs. Song jokes, pulling you away from the entrance. 

You feel like a newborn deer in your heels and incredibly heavy in your dress as Mrs. Song drags you over to a staff bathroom. It's far, far away from the actual party. Mrs. Song doesn't say anything, and just gives you a sad smile as she let's you go into the single stall alone. 

Sitting on the toilet and not giving a care that your dress is probably getting soiled, you bury your face in your hands and finally let the tears flow. Fat, frustrated tears roll down your cheeks without a care in the world. 

"Mrs. Song please, I need to get in there." 

"Now Jungkook, I think you've done enough for today. Go back to the party and don't worry about it." 

You can imagine Jungkook now, he hated it when people told him not to worry.  It only made him more annoyed, fists probably clenched under his perfectly tailored suit and his cute teeth uncharacteristically gritted. He cared to a fault, at least you thought he did. He ruined your night, he made you feel so dumb and silly.

But the longer you stayed in the dim bathroom, you could care less. Thank goodness for Mrs. Song guarding the door. Why would he bother to follow you? It turns out all your insecurities are not in vain, and that you’ve been ignoring a gut feeling you’ve mistaken for your lack of trust. You shouldn’t have trusted Jungkook. You shouldn’t have been so tolerable of Jennie. 

Goodness, you feel so stupid. You hope that there are other bathrooms for staff to use, because you want to coop yourself in here until the last dance. Mascara drips on your sleeves, your hands swiping at your cheeks to stop any tears from staining your dress even further. 

The more you hear Jungkook and Mrs. Song argue, the more you want to disappear. You bury yourself on the floor, uncaring of how dirty the tiles are. Glitter smears across your cheeks and sticks to your hands, and you no longer feel like the thriving young adult you once felt when you walked out the door this evening.

All you can do is cry and pray you can get through the night. And the next day, and the rest of senior year. You don’t want to see Jungkook or Jennie until graduation, when they walk out of the door and permanently out of your life. You wish you could skip the rest of the semester, and fastforward to the life you’ve carved for yourself in your dreams since freshman year. You wish you could be like the woman on the magazine, who has her whole life put together. To be a woman who holds all the confidence in the world and doesn’t have to worry about stupid men. 

Just like the cover. Thirty, flirty and thriving. Just like the models in the magazines. Twenty-seven and in heaven. 

Just once, do you want to taste the feeling of having life on your side. 

March 20st, 2021

Your first thought is that you feel disgusting. 

Of course, falling asleep in a random bathroom stall will make you feel those things. Your dress clinging uncomfortably to your sweating form, lulled to the sounds of Mrs. Song’s temperamental voice and Jungkook’s arguing. 

But for some reason it’s a different kind of disgusting. The feeling is rotting in your throat, as if there’s a tang stuck to the roof of your mouth. You also feel impossibly dehydrated, as if you’ve run a marathon. And for some reason you’re sore? Especially in the crotch, and you don’t remember experiencing any cramps yesterday. 

Your hands come to your body, and instead of feeling tulle and taffeta your hands are greeted with a silky black negligee that hangs across your waist. Panic stings in your bones like a stroke of lightning. 

Eyes snapping open, your breath catches in your throat when you take in the room. You’re on a large plush creme couch, large enough to be a bed. The organza curtains are a shade of bottle green and are opened slightly to let the morning sun in. From your view it seems like this is the top floor of the complex, overlooking the city horizon. 

You feel the covers shift slightly, and you realize there’s a naked man sleeping next to you. You scream. 

The man screams back with an even higher pitch, falling off the couch and clutching the sheets like a lifeline. “What?” he panics, eyes darting back and forth across the room like he’s on a reality television show. “What the fuck? Is there something on my face! Why are you screaming so early!” 

The fact that he’s an adult man and you’re seventeen is even more terrifying, and you feel absolutely naked despite the fact that you’re nearly clothed. But what confuses you more is that this man looks awfully familiar. 

Familiar in the sense that you’ve seen him in one too many television sitcoms to count. This man in front of you looks like Kim Seokjin, the protagonist of your favorite television show: Sky City. He has the same plump lips and pretty face, only aged up. But last time you checked on Soompi, Seokjin is supposed to be twenty years old and filming the next season in New Zealand. Arguably he could be his older brother, but he never acted and you don’t think he’d be the spitting image. 

“Seokjin?” you taste the name on your tongue, “Kim Seokjin?” 

Seokjin relaxes considerably, and he finds it appropriate to return to the couch, placing a tentative hand on your thigh. “Right, were you really that drunk? You got my name right, but it seems that you’ve forgotten that the only name you called me last night was sex god…” 

His plush lips meet the ends of your earlobe, and you squeal at the strange sensation. 

You’ve had sex with this man and you can’t even remember it? Furthermore how can a peasant like you be in contact with a celebrity? What on earth happened last night? Shouldn’t you be calling the police or panicking more? Where’s the pepper spray and sharp knives where you need them? You can’t even find it in you to find a sharp weapon at your once cherished-idol, who’s apparently unfazed and drinking in your body like he has a taste of it every night. 

“What’s the date?” you push him away, looking around for any signs of where you are and how you ended up here. 

“It’s the first day of spring,” Seokjin says easily, stretching out on the couch. “I wonder when the cherry blossoms will bloom. Should we have a picnic with Bogum?” 

“Where’s my phone, I can’t find my phone!” 

Seokjin doesn’t bat an eye as he digs through the couch, pulling something from under him. He waves it in front of your face. “That’s not my phone,” you deadpan. 

“Okay I guess you were actually that drunk,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, forcing the large piece of plastic and metal on your palm. “When you went to the bathroom last night you dropped your old phone in the toilet. We picked up a new one on the way to the next bar. Good thing the new Samsung dropped last month!” 

Since when are phones this large? You carry the strange weight in your hands, confused as to why Seokjin thinks this is your phone. You own a beat up 2G that barely gets any reception in the school basement. But when you turn it on, the screen recognizes your face immediately and unlocks. Wow, since when do cell phones do face recognition? 

A selfie of you and Seokjin appears on the homescreen, looking totally happy. 

Is that you? 

No longer do you have acne lining your brows, or uneven skin texture. Your smile is high and prominent. Your visage is clean and done with minimal makeup, highlighting your beauty. 

The date flickers on the top of the screen. March 20th, 2021: 7:42AM.

You scream again. Seokjin screams again for the heck of it. 

“How did this happen!” you shriek, dropping your phone to step up to the window. You bask in your reflection, mildly impressed and even more so afraid of what’s in front of you. Your body has filled out like an adult, and considering it’s ten years into the future, other things have filled out as well. Experimentally, your hands go out to your chest, squeezing. Yep, those knockers were not there the last time you checked. 

“Well, you came back from work completely drained from a shoot and I just finished filming my Everyday Skincare Routine video with Vogue,” Seokjin comes up to you, blanket tied around his waist like a long towel. “We met at our usual bar and do what we usually do when we’re both stressed: bang it out.” 

You watch as Seokjin’s hands snake around your slick silk, hugging you from behind like it’s second nature. “Is this a dream?” you ask yourself, because it’s not unlikely that you’ve had a sex dream with Seokjin and this is the aftermath dream. 

“Nope,” you yelp when Seokjin pinches your butt, hard. It stings. “This is real life, baby.” 

“Are we dating?” 

You feel Seokjin’s grip tense, and he shoves your innocent question away with a coarse laugh. “You know both you and me don’t do serious relationships. It’s why we work so well together, you know that.” 

“Right,” you reply softly. That doesn’t sound like you at all, and it scares you considerably. 

“So, I gotta go,” you panic when he lets go and starts searching around for his clothes. Your face heats up at Seokjin’s perky ass staring back at you, and your eyes dart to a random spot in the corner. “I got a green meeting with Ellen, and lord knows I don’t wanna face her wrath if I’m late.” 

In seconds he’s fully clothed in a plain shirt and jeans, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Call me beep me, if you wanna reach me,” he sings, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he leaves you in the large apartment. 

The door slams with a hard smack and that’s when you collapse on the couch that feels foreign and strange, breaking into tears. 

The next time you wake up, it’s the next day. It’s a glaringly bright Sunday and for whatever reason you’re still in this aged-up body. Maybe time travel makes the body really tired. This isn’t a dream. You panic for the second time, walking back and forth around the loft that’s apparently yours. It seems like it’s yours, because the bills that linger on the coffee table have your name and the pictures in the one bedroom are of you and your family. 

But the refrigerator in the nook is digital and has fancy ice settings, something you could never imagine owning. Your closet is filled with brand named suits, and with every designer label you pass you mentally rack up the total of just one section. It’s enough to pay for your college tuition if your first choice accepts you. 

Wait. You’re apparently twenty-seven, college is long gone. 

Lying in your bed feels better, surrounded by familiar pictures of your cousins and family. Your favorite snacks are tucked with care in your nightstand, and it makes you feel a tiny bit better knowing that your favorite chocolate and chips will never change. 

What happened in the past ten years? Why don’t you remember anything and are you entirely sure this isn’t some strange fever dream? 

Time ticks slowly as you spend the afternoon, glued to your phone. It’s a 25 Note+ and it’s filled with multiple doohickeys and settings that make you feel technologically inept. You never thought you were bad with technology, but clearly these phones have a learning curve attached to them. 

You try to call your family, but according to the voicemail left they’re on a Disney cruise that you paid for. Your heart aches at the excited voice of your parents. Why are they on a vacation without you? 

The next thing you aim for is finding Jimin’s contact. According to Google Maps, you’re not far from your hometown and you know that Jimin’s always wanted to move to the city so he must be nearby. To your chagrin, his name isn’t on your contact list. Strange, he’s always number two on speed dial. 

Clicking on the internet browser, you go to the online Whitepages and search up Park Jimin. There may be a million ones, but maybe you could get a lead. When a picture and an address show up easily with one swipe, you scoff. The internet has no room for privacy ten years later, huh? 

The most casual thing you own in your closet is a Free People dress, reaching mid-calf with flowing bell sleeves. Heck, you couldn’t even find a single pair of jeans. You don’t care however, as you swipe your keys from the counter (you gape, you own a Tesla?) and race down to the parking garage. 

Jimin’s apartment is on the other side of the city. It’s strange, transitioning from high rises and shiny windows to quaint brick walls and lived-in patio spaces. You feel like it’s a race against time as you make it all the way to his room, knocking feverishly on the mahogany red door. 

“What? Who is it?” it’s clear that his room is cheap, the walls thin as you hear his voice shuffle throughout the room. Why are you shaking? It’s just your best friend. 

The door swings open and you and Jimin drink each other in. His baby fat has melted from his cheeks, revealing a handsome and charming jawline. His hair is no longer a natural black, but has been dyed to a sandy blond that suits his tan. His eyes, wide in surprise, are still a soft brown but not as bright as when he was seventeen. 

“Jimin,” your third round of tears hits you like a truck at the sight of your best friend, and you immediately run into his arms. 

But he doesn’t hug you back immediately. In fact, he doesn’t know what to do at all. Your name rolls off his lips like he’s seen a ghost. 

You pull away, as if you are burned. You flinch at the way Jimin regards you. “Is something wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” he looks at you, crossing his arms, “I don’t know what to feel when your old best friend suddenly shows up at your doorstep after ten years.” 

What? 

“Why would I do that?” you whisper, bracing your hand against the doorframe to steady yourself. 

“Well, after graduation you chose a college at the last minute. Decided to go to a prestigious fashion university in Europe. Shacked it up with some British guys and well, forgot about your past but I guess I can’t blame you.” 

“But I couldn’t have left you,” you know you’re not even talking to Jimin, but in fact scolding yourself for being so stupid these past ten years. “I was crying for you that night at prom. All I wanted was for you to be there and hold me!” 

That strikes a cord. Jimin pops his head into the hallway, looking back and forth to see if anyone is watching. He sighs when your tears turn into sobs, shaking your form. “Come in,” he mutters, ushering you inside.

Jimin’s apartment feels more like home than your apartment does. Cosy and warm with the scent of jasmine brewing on the stove. The pour of tea soothes you slightly as you relax on the worn leather couch. 

Jimin hands you a mug, sitting opposite you against the rickety living room table. “Are you okay?” he asks, showing genuine concern for the first time. 

“I’m,” you roll the muddy liquid in your grasp, watching the tea leaves tumble. “I just came back from the hospital, actually. Hit my head drinking last night and I’m suffering from memory loss,” you clutch your head for good measure, feigning injury.  

“Memory loss?” he gapes, unable to see through your lie. 

“Yeah uh,” you wince, “almost ten years of memory loss.” 

Jimin isn’t a man who thinks ahead, preferring to live in the moment. You figure he’s not going to question your excuse. Your former best friend nearly drops his tea in the process, hot drops burning his hand. He hisses, placing the plain mug on the table as he goes to his shelves, pulling out your class yearbook. 

“Ten years,” he shakes his head, looking like he’s just stepped into a Korean drama. “Is that even possible?” 

“Must be,” you sigh, not wanting to delve into the details of how you ended up in the future, “the first thing I did when I woke up was scream my head off. Then I woke up later and the first person I called were my parents who didn’t pick up, and then I wanted to call you but,” you squeeze the cup in your hands, “I couldn’t find your contact so I searched you up.” 

“Should we call the hospital or something? Maybe you shouldn’t be walking around like this.” 

“Don’t worry, they said the memory loss is only temporary,” you force a smile, knocking your head lightly with the heel of your palm, “I just gotta y’know, catch up a little bit. I thought you could help.” 

Jimin is patient, albeit a little nervous, watching carefully as your eyes glaze emptily over the old yearbook. You’re unfazed at the familiar faces and events that are described to you in detail, unable to recall what happened during the events that followed graduation. There’s barely any pictures of you, so it doesn’t help when he tries to explain as much as he can. 

You stop him at the sports section, pointing a finger at Jungkook being carried by his fellow teammates during the lacrosse championships. “What happened to Jungkook?” 

Jimin shrugged, “Blew his sports scholarship,” your eyebrows float to the top of your forehead, appalled that your former love would do such a thing, “decided to pursue his passion and went to an art school for a degree in photography.” 

So much has changed in the past ten years. 

“Hey, can you please stop crying?” 

“I’m sorry,” you warble, wiping at your sleeve as if the fabric didn’t cost hundreds of dollars, “I must be making you so uncomfortable by barging in. I’ll get out of your life—”

“No, not that. I just don’t like seeing you cry,” Jimin sighs, squeezing your knee, “of course I was upset when you suddenly upped and left town to study in another continent. But I was still happy for you. On the internet you seemed tons happier since highschool.” 

“I can say that’s no longer the case,” you mutter sadly, taking a long drag of your tea. The burn flows down your throat, digging you to reality, “I guess I just woke up and wasn’t prepared to be the person I ended up being.” 

“Well, what can your former best friend do to make it better?” 

Your eyes widen at Jimin’s uneasy stare, as if he’s wondering whether he said the right thing or not. 

“Um,” you bite your lip, “will you go shopping with me? I realized I don’t own any sweatpants or sneakers and I would really like to wear something comfortable right now,” you look despondently on your uncomfortable dress, swinging around the sleeves that seem to snag onto everything. 

“Okay,” he nods easily, “will you also buy me new sweatpants and sneakers? And dinner? I really want a New York Strip.” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, “can I afford that?” 

He chuckles to himself, pulling you up and wiping the tears on your face with a tissue from his pocket. You don’t even care to ask whether the tissue is clean, only focusing on the tender gesture that you’ve missed so much. 

“Honey, you’re one of the co-editors of Ego. I’m sure a couple pairs of sweatpants and steak will barely make a dent in your bank account.” 

You’re flabbergasted. Ego? The fashion magazine that’s on billboards and commercials? That Ego? 

After a couple checks through your bank account, and a triple check with a phone call and trip to the ATM, you’re sure the money is yours. It scares you, but also comforts you knowing that you’ve always been able to make it big. 

You barely bat an eye as Jimin tugs you around the city with a familiarity that has you reeling. You struggle to remember the streets you pass and the signs that indicate what part of town you’re in, all whilst Jimin basks in the fruits of your labor. You don’t give a shit, obviously. It makes you happy seeing Jimin slowly melt and grow more comfortable throughout the day. 

This is the kind of life you envisioned. One where comfort isn’t discarded for luxury, where the two cultures can marry. Jimin busts a gut when he sees you angrily shove your Free People dress deep in your shopping bags in favor of a black Adidas tracksuit that makes you feel like a soccer mom. Of course, he doesn’t know why you’re so aggressive with all your luxurious items, heck you even make him drive your Tesla, but nevertheless each passing hour brightens you up considerably.  

When you two arrive at a fancy steakhouse with a dress code, the manager doesn’t hesitate to chide you and suggest the Applebee’s down the street. 

You retort back that you’re an editor of Ego, and in seconds you’d have this restaurant swarmed with bad reviews. You know nothing about culinary review but you’re sure the manager doesn’t know that, and no arguments are placed after that. 

The evening puts you in higher spirits, and you’re almost convinced that you’re a successful twenty-something catching up with your former best friend. You’ve always been mature for your age, high school can do that to a person, and it makes it vastly easier to keep up with the new decade. 

“So,” you help Jimin get his bags up into his apartment. A little part of it feels like a bribe as you carry all the name brands on your arms, but you chalk it up to being compensation for the last ten years, “who are the people you hang out with now? Anyone I know?” 

“Well, Taehyung sometimes drops by if he’s free. He’s traveling the world now, he actually works with you,” Jimin provides the information smoothly, “only he works in the international business column. But surprisingly, the person I hang out the most with is—”

“Jungkook.” 

Standing face-to-face with your old high school sweetheart disarms you, and you’re sorely reminded that just you’re a seventeen-year-old in a twenty-seven-year-old’s body. 

Jungkook looks tired, and he rubs his eyes a bit as if to make sure he isn’t dreaming. You in the flesh, looking purposeful and confident as you hold three bags on each arm, each piece probably costing more than his rent. He’s filled out, what once was lean muscle and minor definition has turned into full muscle mass hidden beneath a large t-shirt and sweatpants that are two sizes too big. His face is still sweet-looking and baby-like, but his hair is overgrown and waving in front of his eyes without a care in the world. 

“Did I mention we’re neighbors?” you can practically hear the wince in Jimin’s voice, probably regretting that he hid that chunk of information from you. 

Jungkook tastes his name on your lips, and it sounds foriegn and strange coming from the both of you. “Good to see you,” he says, voice low. 

You barely formulate a response, replying with an equally nervous “right back at ya” and then you two resume staring at each other. While Jungkook hasn’t seen you in the last ten years, you saw him yesterday. Yesterday, where you started the day all peachy keen and it spiraled downhill shortly after. It’s jarring, knowing that your body doesn’t fit your conscience. 

“Well I uh,” Jungkook lifts his indicator to leave, a large garbage bag, “bye.” 

Jungkook shuffles out of the small hallway, and you get a whiff of his scent. It’s still the same, fabric softener mixed with his own musk. 

“I,” you start off slow, “maybe I should go talk to him?” 

“No,” he warns. “You and Jungkook are completely different people now, he’s just gonna think you’re pitying him if you go up and talk to him out of the blue.”

“But we’ve always been different people.” 

“You really think that?” Jimin shakes his head, “I know what happened at prom was rough but, I really didn’t think much of your relationship with Jungkook before that. It seemed like you were pretty compatible—”

“Up until the point he was kissing Jennie in matching flowers on the balcony like some kind of romance film?” you scoff, crossing your arms, “right. Super compatible.” 

Jimin sighs, as if he’s chastising a teenager. “Prom happened ten years ago, don’t act like it happened yesterday. People change.” 

You frown, because in your mind it did happen yesterday. 

Sleeping last night was hell. It’s one thing to be completely zonked out of your mind and unsure if you’re in a dream or weird coma, but knowing that you’re going to be stuck here for awhile is painful. Your loft is too big for your tiny body, your mattress cold and empty with just you in it. Without your parents to call and you feeling wholly insecure about your rekindling with Jimin, the only person you can really call is… Seokjin. 

And you really don’t want a repeat of your first night. 

So you suck it up, spend your waking hours in your office and quickly learning your tasks for work. You don’t even know what time you’re supposed to clock in, but from a sticky note attached to your MacBook it seems that you have a creative meeting at 10AM. You allow yourself two hours of sleep before you get moving.

The one exciting thing about your morning is that your outfit choices are virtually limitless. You feel like Cher in Clueless, all your outfits color-coordinated and organized by season. You pick out a springy Chanel number, a pale pink tweed skirt suit that has you feeling equally parts cute and an independent working woman. You even make time to buy yourself a coffee, because that’s what adults do right? 

Your office is gorgeous. Also located in the upper part of the city, the glass desk and high windows fit right in. You have an ideas board filled with various designs, fabrics and models to choose from. There’s a little frilly notebook straight out of the 2000s, all filled with phone numbers and special contacts all at your disposal. You even have your own cold press coffee machine complete with a mini-fridge. 

“You’re never this early, nervous for the meeting?” 

You squeal, nearly dropping your coffee as you take a tour around your office. You fight the urge to gape and point accusingly at the woman standing at your door.

“Jennie?” 

“In the flesh,” she gives you a cool smirk, holding her arms out for a hug. It really throws you for a loop, and you’re left stricken in your spot as Jennie closes the gap and squeezes the life out of you. Her grey pinstripe pantsuit crumples against your softer fabric. “You know you can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“Jennie and you are practically besties,” Jimin sounds a little jealous while saying that, forcing you to scroll through your Instagram page to see the countless selfies of you and your high school rival, “I mean, at least that’s what the internet says. Went to college in Europe together and everything.” 

So it’s true. You awkwardly pat Jennie on the back, and she doesn’t seem to mind when she pulls away and tells you to meet upstairs. You mindlessly follow after her to the conference room, wishing a kind good morning to everyone that greets you. 

Once you make it upstairs, you flinch at the loud screech of your voice. “My favorite editor!” someone in a plaid red suit runs up to you and throws an arm around your shoulders. The editor-in-chief Jung Hoseok smiles brightly at you, leading you to a seat at the head of the table right next to him. You’re cosy with the editor-in-chief? This is crazy! 

“G-good morning Mr. Jung,” you stutter, trying to remain cool. 

“Did something happen to you this weekend?” Hoseok jests, pinching your cheek like a long lost sister. “You always call me Hobi.” 

“Oh,” you force a giggle, “you don’t even know how crazy this weekend was.” 

Hoseok simply laughs and gets himself settled for the meeting.

“I’m so jealous,” Jennie sing-songs, a manicured finger trailing over the back of your chair, “only the best of the best can sit next to the big boss.” 

The comment has you bristling. Are you really friends? Giving her a tight smile, she saunters to another corner of the meeting. On your section of the table is your itinerary and iPad, ready for note-taking. 

“One thing that we do at Ego is consistency,” Hoseok pulls up a projection of this year’s editions, all carbon copies of the same cover. “And while that is admirable, I want to put my top editors to the test and come up with the theme for next month’s issue.” 

Hoseok sends you yet another pearly white smile, and due to the sheer closeness you know that secret smile is only reserved for you. That makes you squirm in your seat, already feeling the pressure building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Take two days off this week to plan. Work out the days you’ll be out of the office with HR, those days you’ll be working in the city, finding ideas and inspiration for the issue. Remember, think outside the box!” Hoseok does a little fist pump, cutting through the air like his life depends on it. 

The whole lot of the group continues to stare at Hoseok, waiting for his next instructions. Then, the adults begin to panic, similar to a high school class that’s been told they have a pop quiz that’s worth half their grade. You sigh internally, you suppose high school never ends. 

“C’mon,” Hoseok urges, flailing his arms around, “get out there! Make moves, make money!” 

But the only moves you’ve made since 2PM are fleeting trips to the bathroom. 

Obviously you don’t have any memory of your degree or experience, so instead of feeling like an editor you feel more like a teenager playing dress-up. You couldn’t even sneakily ask Jennie for help because she deadpanned: “I’m not sharing any secrets, doll.” It seems that being backhandedly mean is a theme in your relationship, so after that you rolled your eyes and locked your door. Thankfully you packed a pair of sweatpants so you can comfortably lie down on the floor while you spread out your workspace. Magazines littered the hardwood, all sultry and sexy looking models staring back at you with the same half-lidded stare and overdone makeup. 

It makes you cringe, thinking back to the other day when you were jealous of these people. Now that you have this life, thriving and full of beauty, is that the only thing you want to show to your audience? How can they possibly relate to models who make triple their salary? What about the authenticity? The ingenuity? 

And that’s when it hits you. 

Scrambling to your computer, you search up a photographer that you know will be completely and utterly transparent. 

My Time Studios: Capturing the raw moment. 

You know exactly what you want for next month’s issue. 

Jungkook does not expect to see you through the peephole of his apartment, fiddling with the threads of your clothes and eyes glued to the ground. He mutters a curse under his breath, jamming his fingers between the metal double lock to swing his head out. He doesn’t even bother to open up all the way, just enough to stick his face out. 

“Jungkook, hi!” he still can’t believe you’re around. Jungkook winces at your tone, high and sounding like a teenager. He thought by now you’d be traveling the world, climbing to bigger and better things. Then again, the upper part of the city is certainly an upgrade. He just thought you’d want to be far, far away from him. “I b-brought you McDonalds.” 

You hold up a greasy bag of fast food, and his nose immediately responds to the smell of fresh fries and a quarter pounder (with cheese, of course.) It annoys him that you still know his weakness, but he isn’t going to go that easily. 

“Why are you here?” he asks a little too sharply, hands gripping the doorknob. 

“I wanted to offer you a job,” you get straight to the point, as if you know your time at his doorstep is limited. 

He scoffs, “You? Want to put my photos on Ego? You know my business extends to weddings and the occasional Bar Mitzvah. Why would you want me?” 

You frown, crossing your arms. He looks down at your attire, a nicely fitted suit on top, but the skirt is replaced with grey sweatpants. Comical, really. “I’ve always loved your photos,” you admit to him, “you know that. And they’ve gotten so much better since then.” 

The furrow between Jungkook’s brows softens a fraction, smoothed by the honesty in your voice. You’re right, you always made sure to tell Jungkook how much you loved his other talents. Namely, the photography, and sometimes his singing. He can still remember how easily you slept in his arms watching Sky City for hours, all at the melody of your favorite song. While his teachers and classmates loved to venerate his position on the team and his ability to garner attention, you encouraged him to work on the things that mattered to him the most, even in secret. 

Nevertheless, that was ten years ago. 

“I don’t need your charity,” he spits, “Jimin might be able to be bought by some designer clothes and an eighty dollar steak, but not me.” 

The pain in your gaze is glaringly evident, and you don’t even try to hide that you’re upset as the paper bag falls against your lap. If there’s one thing Jungkook knows he’s good at, is hurting your feelings. 

“You think this is charity?” you whisper, hurt delicately lacing your voice. 

“Are you kidding? Last month you got Xu Minghao to photograph your spread for Ego. He’s photographed the damn Queen of England,” if you notice that he’s babbling about reading your magazine, you don’t show it in your face, “the point is, I don’t understand why you’re trying to come into my life again. I don’t want to get involved in your fancy dinner galas or anyone else from high school. So please, just go back to your picture perfect life.” 

And without another qualm he slams the door in your face, effectively shutting you out. It doesn’t feel as good as he wants it to feel, clearly. He feels even shitter than before. His eyes glaze over to his rickety coffee table, cluttered with bills and credit card payments that should’ve been dealt with a long time ago. 

He slugs himself over to his couch, throwing his body over the couch that’s way too short. His legs dangle in mid-air, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunset. The bills can wait a little longer. Seeing you was too draining. 

The nap turns into a full-fledged night’s sleep, and by the time he wakes up the sky is dark and it’s the start of a new day. 12:08, the screen of his iPhone confirms. Feeling even crustier and worse than before, his stomach decides to harden the blow and go straight for the gut. He’s sorely reminded of the food you offered him hours ago. 

Quickly pulling on a large denim jacket, he grabs his keys and heads for the 7-Eleven down the park. Nothing like a frozen pizza to fill the gut, fast and cheap. Despite the fact that it’s dark and late, there're still some stray people in the park. A few homeless, some high school stoners who are meeting in secret, and you are typing away on your MacBook. 

Wait, what? 

You’re sitting on a bench in the park, typing away without a care in the world. Shoving soggy fries that he earlier refused in your mouth, you let a couple stray potatoes hang from your lips as your eyes succumb to the screen. You look positively silly, still in a pink blazer and baggy sweatpants. 

He must have been staring a little too long, because soon enough you turn your head, gasping at his figure. You quickly avert your eyes, but don’t make any move to leave the park. That interests him further. 

Shamelessly, he calls your name. His legs get to you in an instant, towering over your tiny figure. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I’m waiting for Jimin,” your eyes flicker to your open laptop, “and working.” 

At least one of those reasons is a lie. Last time he checked, Jimin always sleeps over at Yoongi’s house on this day. He knows it’s a lie, and you know he knows it’s a lie, but neither of you make the effort to correct it. 

“And what could you possibly be working on at 12AM?” 

“Finding a photographer,” you hunch over your laptop, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have much time and none of my usual contacts are good enough. This project is… personal.” 

It makes him want to ask further, he can’t lie and say he isn’t intrigued in the kind of vision you’re going for in your next issue. “But why can’t you work at home?” 

“Don’t wanna go,” you reply casually, “it makes me feel lonely.” 

Lonely? You feel lonely? He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated at the display of nonchalance. Back in high school he always encouraged you to feel confident, but not like this. “Hey, it’s nice that you feel comfortable enough to chill in the park at 12AM, but it’s really dumb. You’re lucky you haven’t gotten mugged from all that money you’re carrying around!” he gestures to your fancy clothes and laptop, “and if you feel so lonely, call up one of your rich friends I’m sure they’ll—”

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you slam your laptop shut, darkening the two of you. “I thought you wanted me to go back to my ‘picture perfect life’, so why do you care?” you get up in his face, standing on the bench so you’re nearly eye-to-eye, “why don’t you pester those kids over there? Tell them to drink their milk and go home,” you scoff, shoving your stuff in your bag. You don’t spare him another glance as you stalk off in the other direction. 

He groans, unable to untangle himself from the mess, “Where are you going?” 

“To a park where you’re not in!” 

Despite the exchange for sweatpants, you’re still wearing shoes not fit for walking. They’re little white pumps, not too tall but not remarkably comfy either. However, that doesn’t deter you from getting the heck out of there, seemingly walking in any possible direction to get away from Jungkook. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” he chastises once his hand clasps around your hand, pulling you around. 

There’s a little resistance, as you try to hide your face to no avail. Jungkook fumbles a little, not thinking you’d be crying. But tiny, shy tears are pooling around your eyes, looking flustered at your display of emotion.

“God,” you mutter to yourself, “I feel like such a kid.” 

That strikes a chord in the twenty-something man. The last time he saw you in the flesh was when you were both kids. Young, unbridled, and stupid. Well, only Jungkook was the stupid one. 

“Do you want me to take you home?” Jungkook offers, feeling guilty about his roughness. 

You shake your head. “No, I told you I don’t want to.” 

“Can I at least call you a cab? Or a friend so you won’t get lonely?” 

“Jungkook, if I had that option would you think I’d be here right now?” he’s trying, he really is. But you’re equally as miffed about this whole situation and at a loss. The two of you engage in a staring contest. It only takes a few seconds for you to crumble, and he frowns when you shiver in your thin blazer. 

Instantly, he rips off his jacket, pulling it over your body. It’s huge on you, swallowing your body and hopefully containing some of his residual heat. 

And finally, he relents. “If you want, I’ll come over and stay until you fall asleep.” 

“Okay,” your eyes widen in instant agreement, pulling something out of your pocket. “Will you drive?” 

His eyes widen at the shiny, minimalistic car key. Your sudden one-eighty has him second guessing his decision. “You drive a Tesla?” he gapes, taking your key like he’s holding the Hope Diamond. 

You got your license in February. One month ago, and only because the instructor felt pity on you since it was your second time retaking it. The fancy car terrifies you, and you’re sure Jungkook has much more experience driving (over ten years worth.)  

You shrug, “Not very good at driving. Haven’t had much practice.”

“Um, the car drives itself?” 

“It does?” you tilt your head, dazed, “wow, technology is amazing.” 

He shakes his head, putting a hand on your back so you can lead the way. You must be tired, because it seems like your head isn’t entirely there anymore. He takes charge, buckles you in and takes a couple minutes to fumble with the car settings. Nevertheless the drive home is smooth (and it takes all of Jungkook’s willpower to not squeal in excitement when the Tesla does in fact, drive itself.) 

You lead him inside your loft like a tiny zombie, throwing your shoes to one corner and throwing your jacket on the kitchen table. 

“Must be hungry,” you can’t even form complete sentences, “there’s food in the fridge, Kook. Sorry if it’s not to your taste.” 

Shuffling away to your room, Jungkook is left to gawk at your apartment. The baseboards of your walls are crusted in pretty pearl designs, swirling around the whole expanse. There’s a television that stretches the wall of the little living room, with a sound and video game system he’s only seen in movies. Your tables are meters and meters of granite, and he wonders how the floor of your apartment can hold all this weight. 

But he supposes it’s because there’s nothing much to hold. No pictures line the walls, only vague looking art to fill up blank space. There’s no touch of warmth despite the heating system under the floor that relaxes his toes. For such a big home, he can only imagine how small you must feel in it. 

Your fridge is just as empty, decorated with a couple of sad-looking salads and some protein shakes. He sighs, grabbing two chicken salads and a banana shake and bringing it to your coffee table. It’s a little two quiet for his liking, so he turns on the television real low just to make the room feel a bit fuller. 

Halfway through one salad he realizes he probably should’ve made you eat as well. Even though these salads aren’t remotely filling, they’re much healthier than some soggy fries. A piece of limp lettuce hangs from Jungkook’s mouth, suddenly feeling guilty for soaking up all of your amenities without inviting you. After all, it is your house. Wiping some sauce from his lips he dusts off his pants, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he makes his way to your room. 

Calling your name, the only reply is the whir of the heater. He only cracks the door a tad, but he sees you slumped against the edge of the bed, bare feet hanging from the end. You barely made it, your clothes strewn across the floor, an oversized t-shirt ruched across your barely covered thighs. Without a thought he quickly scrambles to move you closer to your pillows, and then wraps your body in your plush duvet. You’re out like a light. 

You’re sleeping, so Jungkook should go home. That’s what you two agreed to. He goes back to his late dinner (early breakfast?) mindlessly listening to an infomercial on rare dollar coins. He’ll leave after he eats. 

He didn’t leave. 

Jungkook awakes to a scream, your shrill voice echoing all the way down the hallway into your living room. It takes a second for him to register the empty white walls and the fact that he’s not in his apartment, but eventually it goes back to the point that you’re in distress. He jolts, scrambling off the couch to run to your bedroom. 

“What is it?” he exhales into your doorframe, socks sliding. 

Your hair is in a disarray, shirt rumpled and face scrunched in pain. You shove your phone in his face. “Since when did Iron Man die!” you cry, genuinely horrified at whatever entertainment article you’re reading. 

He slumps against the wall, running a hand over his dry face. “Since Endgame, obviously. That was literally two years ago. Is that why you woke me up?” 

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” 

“Have you been living under a rock or something?”

“Or something,” you frown, throwing your phone across your bed, “I guess I should go get ready for work.” 

Jungkook watches as you shamelessly hop off your bed, uncaring that your shirt has ridden up, revealing the full expanse of your thighs and then some. You pull out a pair of sweats from a shopping bag, nicking off the tag to put them on your legs. 

“Do you have work?”  you ask casually. 

“Uh, no,” Jungkook coughs, crossing his arms. It’s been awhile since he’s had a solid gig. Two whole weeks have been spent doing more personal work which was fine, but at the same time his bank account could beg to differ. “I’m off today.” 

“Oh, alright,” you shrug, “do you know where I can buy a good camera?” 

“Why?” 

“Gonna go take pictures,” you snatch your wallet and keys from your bedside, stuffing it in a fanny pack. He watches you curiously as you zip your bag shut, muttering something about how you can’t believe that fanny packs are back in style. Swinging the strap over your back, you brush past him. “You can stay if you want,” you add pointedly, before you slip into the bathroom. 

Jungkook doesn’t understand as to why he’s slipping into sensory overload. The house is a shell of itself and the antithesis of a rainbow. Maybe it’s the fact that he woke up ten minutes ago or how you look completely peaceful and want to leave as soon as you wake up. Or how shocked you were that Iron Man has passed and you’ve completely missed Phase 3. Or that you’re not even thinking about breakfast or not wishing him a farewell, practically throwing him into your apartment like a second home. 

He wobbles back to the couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as he drapes the fuzzy blankets over his body. He flips through the channels, before finally settling on an old episode of Sky City. 

When you walk out into the living room, you scrunch your face in pain when you make eye contact with Kim Seokjin’s on screen appearance. Oh, how things change. Jungkook knew how much you loved watching Sky City, indulging in the protagonist's attractiveness. 

“Y’know,” Jungkook says over his shoulder, “if you leave me here, I could steal whatever I want.” 

“Go ahead,” you reply flippantly, already slipping on your sneakers. “There’s nothing of value here.” 

What is wrong with you? 

“Wait!” Jungkook throws all his pride at the window, unable to conceal his worry for you. Half your body is out the doorway, and you’re looking at him like he’s grown a second head. His voice takes up the entirety of the room, startling you. “I need to come with you,” he finally settles on, looking serious. “You’re going to buy the wrong camera.” 

“Okay,” you concede immediately, throwing the keys on the couch, “you drive.”

Jungkook must know something’s wrong with you. 

You don’t know how to act around him. Your heart is hurt and your body is a decade older than it was a week ago and everything in your life and mind is a complete wreck. It still aches to look at him, despite the fact that you want him around, all the time. You wish you could know a little more about your adult life, you feel like a proverbial Bambi sitting in a car worth more than your childhood home. It’s a wobbly, shaky road to adulthood, and you’re not having it. 

Jungkook sleeping over is the last thing you thought would happen last night. You didn’t even think he’d relent to coming to your house, since he was pretty hellbent on not being your photographer. 

But now he’s driving your Tesla again, after you instructed him to park the car where you parked it last time. That way, you can go back to the playground you were in the night before. You have a vision for the issue and it starts there. Fiddling around with the expensive camera Jungkook picked out, you feel his gaze burning into your shoulder. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” you ask archly, “I read the manual and everything. Or are you just being a perfectionist again?” 

“What’s wrong with being a perfectionist?” Jungkook shoots back, putting the car in park. As soon as the car stills in the parking lot, he grabs the camera from your grasp like a petulant child. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t break it. Face it, you’re terrible at technology.” 

“Excuse me! I have a Samsung 25+ and a Tesla!” 

“Yeah? So why did I catch you struggling to use your pay feature on your phone when we grabbed coffee?” 

“It’s new,” you mutter under your breath. Everything is new to you. 

With a growl you snatch back the camera, and Jungkook for once doesn’t act like a baby with a sharing complex and relents. Of course, Jungkook manages to calibrate the camera and figure out the color balance before you could. This only annoys you further, wondering why Jungkook is still sticking around after all this time. 

“Alright,” you step out of the car, slinging the camera around your neck. “Thanks for driving me around, your apartment’s just down the street, right?” You dart your hand out, and Jungkook reluctantly hands over your key beeper. Maybe it’s because he seems to love the car so much, that he has a hard time giving it back. “I’ll see you around.” 

“Wait,” is that his word of the day? Wait wait wait. 

“What is it now, Jungkook?” 

He’s never seen you so full of negative emotions. You’ve been waiting for him to tire of you all day, from your clipped replies and unease ever since you two stepped out of your apartment. 

“Um,” he looks embarrassed, scratching the back of his head, “are you really going to take pictures? You always took really blurry pictures in high school.” 

The mention of high school has you icy, gripping the matte black digital camera to hold your feelings at bay. “Yes, I’m going to go take pictures because the photographer I wanted so rudely rejected me,” you revel in the way he shrinks, probably regretful already. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have a deadline.” 

He continues to follow you, all the way to the park. You make your way to a little garden, and start to take some test photos next to the little daisies that decorate the patch of dirt. You practically feel Jungkook breathing down your neck, feeling antsy everytime you click the shutter. Ignoring him is difficult, especially when he makes little noises of discomfort when you presumably do something wrong. 

“Jungkook, are you going to say something?” you seethe, not caring that the heavy camera strains your neck when it falls against your chest, “or are you just going to make me wait.”

Jungkook’s face is scrunched up, and finally he blurts, “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry for what?” 

“For saying your life is picture perfect,” he sputters quickly, looking very sweaty. Jungkook always got sweaty when he did things a little too hard. Playing sports, thinking, campaigning on video games. “I—I didn’t mean it. I don’t know. I guess I was just upset at myself and I took it out on you.” 

“Well why are you upset at yourself?” 

“I’m upset because I—I don’t know, it’s complicated,” he plops down on the nearest bench, and while you follow him, you don’t let yourself sit next to him. If you do, you know your subconscious will want to wrap your arms around him and comfort him. That would probably be the worst possible action to perform. “I don’t really do the whole photoshoot thing. Like I said, I’m just doing some weddings and parties here and there. I shouldn’t have said those things about Jimin and how you’re only talking to us out of charity. It’s my fault for not considering how complicated your life could be too,” he looks down at the ground, shameful, “so if you still want me, I would really like to photograph for Ego. And I would also really like that camera back.” 

Unable to resist, you reach over to give him a pat on the shoulder. “I forgive you,” you reply numbly, thinking he was going to apologize for something else. You suppose he’s forgotten about that fateful prom night, just like everyone else. “It’s actually not for Ego, at least not yet. My boss is pitting us against each other, the best idea wins the cover theme.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll win,” his face eventually breaks into a grin when you remove the camera from your body. “Come to daddy, baby,” he cooes, holding the shiny new camera in his hands like a newborn. 

“Gross,” you twitch, although you’re feeling all the more relieved knowing Jungkook will now be taking the visual reins. “You haven’t had a chance to look at the contract made up, but being paid five-hundred okay?” 

“Five-hundred a week?” 

“No, per day,” you correct, “why wouldn’t I pay you just like I pay the others?” 

Jungkook’s dark brows fly to his forehead. He practically chokes on his spit at the way you put Jungkook in high regard. A blush overtakes his visage, proud and pink as he rushes to get away from you. 

“You don’t even know my concept,” you called after him, chasing the midday sun. 

Jungkook is already in position, fitting the lens between two buildings. The afternoon sun looks like an egg yolk, melting between the clouds. “Well then is it?” he asks, bending down on one knee to get the perfect angle. 

“Well, yesterday when I thought of the idea I just wanted to be reminded of how easy being a kid was,” you don’t even know if Jungkook’s listening properly, given the rapid click click clicks of the shutter and Jungkook constantly moving around to get as many shots as possible. “I realized that not everyone can relate to the models or the clothes we advertise on Ego. Why would I want to see people I actually admire? Like, my friend’s older brother. Or Jimin, president of the drama club. Or even Jungkook, captain of the lacrosse team.” 

“So, nostalgia. The 2000s are back in style, I like it,” he replies simply, tilting the camera towards you, “pose for me.” 

“What? Jungkook,” you frown, holding a hand over your face. He doesn’t relent, continuing to snap you in different angles. 

“Oh! That was a nice one,” he turns the camera to reveal the screen of your furrowed brows, hand over your face, “looks super grunge. Totally a throwback look.” 

“Jungkook, I don’t model. I’m just the one who throws the ideas.” 

“Yeah, but. Wouldn’t it be cool if the readers of Ego could see the genius behind the paper and ink?” he gestures vaguely to your outfit, “and you’re wearing Fila. So that’s like, kind of designer?” 

“I don’t know,” you hug yourself, “I’ll think about it, okay? Let’s focus.” 

“Fine,” Jungkook stops buzzing around you, putting the camera down and following you as you walk back to your car. You don’t think you really need anymore park photos, and Jungkook seems to telepathically agree as well. 

“We need to plan some outfits and some backgrounds. I’ve already arranged a meet up tomorrow in front of our old high school with a couple of models. The school is on a grade-wide trip, so we’ll even have access to the track and field. I was also thinking disposable film? We could scan those.” 

“Alright, who are your models?” 

“Oh, you know. Just friends from school. I wanted it to be as authentic as possible. Taehyung flew back from Hamburg last night, so he said he’ll come. Jimin, obviously.” 

“Well you only had like, two friends in highschool.” 

“And you,” you clip on with a frown, “so don’t dress like a potato sack tomorrow, okay?” 

“I’m not modeling.” 

“Well, I’m still looking for a celebrity model to tack onto so. Don’t look like a chump.” you stick out your hand, while Jungkook pouts at your outstretched limb. If he feels sore that you called him a chump, he doesn’t comment on it when he clasps his larger hand in yours. “Partners?”

“Partners.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me your celebrity model was him?” 

“I specifically told you not to dress like a paper bag. Why did you continue to do so!” 

“You didn’t specify that your model was Kim Seokjin!” 

The current conversation is hushed, hissed between large reflective light panels and a parked car that held all your rented equipment. Currently, Taehyung, Seokjin and Jimin are huddled on the bleachers of your old stomping grounds, laughing at whatever funny video Seokjin has pulled up. They’re all dressed in variants of the same sweatsuit, a combination of Taehyung’s choosing since he’s one of the many color coordinators at Ego. 

But you haven’t started yet, and you would like to get some morning shots in before it gets any warmer. Jungkook is still petulant, pretending to buy time by balancing his tripod. He’s wearing his Birkenstocks, so old they’re definitely the same pair from highschool, and yet another black sweatsuit. 

“Seokjin’s like a big, fat cheeseball,” you assure Jungkook, who’s actually shaking from being in the presence of a celebrity. “No reason to be nervous.”

“That man has literally been part of our Sitcom Sundays for three years,” he gripes, “of course I’m nervous!” 

“Just go to the car. If you want to change I’m sure Taehyung’s brought something that fits you.”

“Well if they see me change they’re gonna see I’m trying too hard,” Jungkook pouts, he actually pouts. 

“I can’t,” you turn around, your Miss Frizzle-esque solar system dress whirling around your waist. The stars twinkle, glittering into Jungkook’s eyes. “Jungkook, do whatever you want. But we need to start in ten! No, five! I’m not paying you to try on Balenciaga and Off-Brand!” 

If Jungkook is shocked by your sudden snippiness or need to get things wrapped up, he doesn’t say anything to it. For once, he’s quiet about his needs and you’re thankful for it. Once he’s gone, you have a chance to breathe. It’s all wholly overwhelming to dive right into the job. Your brain is still in 2011 unfortunately.

“Babe, everything alright?” 

Seokjin appears behind you, having ditched Jimin and Taehyung after he saw you and Jungkook argue. He smooths his hands over your biceps. You’re still unsure over the exact nature of your adult-self’s relationship, but it seems that sans sex you two are relatively close with each other. 

“M’fine,” you mumble tiredly, trying not to stiffen under his hold. You suppose Jimin isn’t going to be the friend you confide into this lifetime. “I’m just nervous. We’re doing all this work and it can potentially go down the drain after this week. What if my idea’s stupid and we’re wasting time? Jennie texted me that her concept is going to be killer and now I’m scared this concept is too aesthetically soft and people don’t care about nostalgia anymore and I feel like simultaneously throwing up and crying—” 

“Whoa whoa, who’s replaced my confident editor and where did she go?” Seokjin decidedly goes with the notion that you’re definitely not fine. He swings his neck back and forth, peering behind the bleachers and over the football field. “My confident editor would never talk bad of herself like this! She commanded a whole crew of fifty within seconds when she did the Kim Taeyeon shoot in Milan! She never cowers under a challenge, the challenge cowers to her!” and in his gallancy you no longer try to shy away, in fact you even giggle at his silly way of comforting you. “And most importantly, she’d never compare herself to a wench like Jennie.” 

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to swipe the moisture right under your waterline, making sure any traces of your crying are undetectable. “W-wait,” you sputter, “you mean, me and Jennie aren’t actually friends?” 

He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “Even now, you’re such a good actress.” 

You let Seokjin continue to hold you as the pieces in your empty mind come together. If Jennie is truly not your friend and you two have been faking it all this time, how serious is it? And if so, are you the competitive type? You know for sure Jennie is, and will she stop at nothing to make sure she gets the spread? 

This fear is combined with an equal amount of sadness. You were a little excited to have a lasting friend from college, but your mother always told you to never believe anything on the internet. You suppose those selfies of you and Jennie on your Instagram are nothing but a facade. 

But at the very least Seokjin’s care for you isn’t fake, and you’re thankful that you have at least one friend in this life. If you didn’t do this time skip, would Seokjin remain your only friend? You try not to think too hard about it, “Thanks, Seokjin. I really appreciate you.” 

“Will you appreciate me tonight then?” Seokjin makes a move to kiss your neck, and the moment is promptly ruined. 

Shoving him away you say firmly, “Touch me like that again and I’ll rip your dick off in front of this whole crew.” 

“I love it when you get feisty,” Seokjin melts, but salutes you like a drill sergeant as he runs back to the men on the bleachers. 

It’s then you feel a presence looming over your shoulder. Tall, dark, and emanating. He’s changed, in favor of some fitted jeans and a plain white shirt, paired with black boots. Jungkook is behind you, glaring over your shoulder at Seokjin. So much for showing off your professionalism. Crap, how much of that did he hear? 

“Jungkook, I–”

“Let’s start,” he mutters gruffly, stepping past you to get to the equipment. 

You slap a hand over your face. It’s going to be a long day. 

However, the hours following are probably one of the brightest hours of your life since you’ve appeared in your future-self’s body. At first Jimin was anxious at your invitation, despite being in the high school plays and being okay at public speaking, he didn’t know he’d have the potential to be a model. A couple test shots and some coaching from Taehyung, Jimin is a natural, his photogenic energy strong enough to compete toe-to-toe with Seokjin. 

You also have to hand it to Taehyung, who has been running back and forth between modeling and choosing outfits for the boys. Jimin and you didn’t run in the same group as Taehyung back in high school, but time changes things and if given the opportunity, you would’ve loved to be friends with him back then. 

By the time you are done for the day and you feel like all the possible shots have all ready been taken, you circle around the school. You previously went inside empty classrooms, posed in the cafeteria, even pretended to reenact your school rendition of RENT in the auditorium. 

Everything is mostly packed up and put into the car by the time the sun is setting, and you just wanted to perfect this one shot. 

The gymnasium looks a lot smaller than it did as a child. As a teenager, you constantly feared getting hit in the face by a stray wiffleball, or throwing up during the pacer test after the 100th lap. But now, it just looks like an old gym. 

“It smells like sweaty balls in there,” Taehyung curses, adjusting the patterned button down by smoothing down his chest. He jabs a finger in the boys locker room, where Jimin comes out with another new outfit. 

“I think the sandwich I left in senior year is still there,” Jimin adds, pulling the collar around his burgundy knitted sweater. 

The back of the gym is decorated in balloons. Overnight you managed to build a balloon ring off of Pinterest, one of your proudest moments as you made Jungkook haul the rainbow colored arc and shove it into the trunk. Seokjin is sitting directly under the arc, decorating a letter corkboard. It’s one of those cork boards all the teachers display in class, often decorated with some witty quote or a basic “Welcome to Mr/Mrs/Miss _____’s Class!” 

Jungkook is setting up the camera on a tripod, wanting to do it the old fashioned way. Aside from the freakout he had in the beginning when he realized he was photographing Kim Seokjin, he’s been quiet and strictly professional throughout the whole ordeal. It’s amazing to see this side of him, as he seamlessly transitions from shoot to shoot knowing exactly what he has in mind for each photograph. His direction is soft but impactful, and the boys have no problems following directions. 

“Okay boys, everyone under the arc!” 

Working like this is a rush you can’t even imagine. In high school the path you were in the process of choosing wasn’t clear cut up until this point, but now you know exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life. 

Seokjin holds the finished corkboard in the middle, a proud Class of Ego in white block letters. 

Jungkook only gets a few shots in before Seokjin bemoans, letting the corkboard fall in his lap. 

“Guys, this picture’s gonna stink.” 

Jungkook’s appalled, “Excuse me—” 

“Because you two aren’t in it!” Taehyung agrees easily, “c’mon, JK. Put your camera on timer mode and let’s have all of us in it!” 

A blush melts on Jungkook’s neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “What? No, that’s silly Tae. I really don’t—agh!” 

The three men are in a controlled frenzy, aiming to get their mission done. Seokjin rounds the camera and makes quick work of enabling a timer and a burst shot. Jimin pulls you by the waist, tugging you ungracefully to the center of the arc. Taehyung is doing a pretty good job of hauling your muscle hunk of a photographer, pressing his shoulders across yours. 

And finally, Seokjin hands you the corkboard. “You should be holding it. After all, you’re the brains behind it!” 

At first it feels awkward, squished between new friends and old friends. First loves and last loves. Despite his warm bicep pressing against you, Jungkook is akin to a sheet of cardboard, arm-to-arm and stiff as a board. 

“Alright people, let’s move it!” Seokjin yells unnecessarily loud, the noise echoing throughout the high walls. “Last couple shots here, and we’re not re-doing it because I’m tired as hell! So look alive and pretend to like each other!” 

The first click of the camera stuns all of you, akin to many terrible school photos where the flash disarms you and your face twists. But that click suddenly gets Jungkook into gear, and you feel him slide a hand over your shoulder, squeezing you toward him so you’re pressed against the side of his chest. He still smells like floral fabric softener, and that makes you smile. 

And suddenly you feel like you’re seventeen again, surrounded with the people you care for the most. 

“So, the tabloids are true huh?” Jimin smirks, waving a flimsy fry in your face. 

“T-tabloids?” you sputter, dabbing the ketchup off your cheek. The greasy burger slips off your grip and onto your plate.  Your expression says it all, it’s painfully innocent and genuinely confused as you attempt to swallow the cheese and lettuce as fast as possible. 

The crew sans Seokjin is eating a very late dinner with you at the restaurant of their choice. They put it to a vote, while you desperately wanted some McDonalds everyone else voted for a more high end restaurant. After all, you’re paying. 

“Ah, don’t try playing coy with us,” Taehyung jests, “the office talks.” 

“Well, whatever you’ve heard isn’t true,” you huff, crossing your arms. “At least, not anymore.” 

“What?” Taehyung bugs out, “I thought you loved your no strings attached relationship with Jinnie.” 

“I guess I did,” you frown, deflating against the plush booth, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I liked back then.” 

You resume eating your burger, trying to ignore the worried look Jimin sends you. He reaches over the table to press his thumb to the little 11s in your forehead, a product of stress. “Does your head still hurt?” he asks. 

Jungkook’s chewing slows considerably. He’s been strangely quiet this evening, opting to order a handful of appetizers and gorging on every single edible thing on the table like a glutton. But at Jimin’s question he turns his head to look at you, “Why would your head still hurt?” 

“She hit her head when she went out drinking with Seokjin last week,” Jimin supplies, “messed with her memory.” 

“Chim,” you frown, gently shoving him off you, “I’m fine now. Pretty much caught up. Just reevaluating my life choices, okay?” 

“How could Seokjin let that happen?” Jungkook asks, putting his fork down. 

“He wasn’t even there,” you shake your head, trying to clear Seokjin’s name as fast as possible. After all, this lie is completely fabricated, a blanket to cover the magical properties your true nature being here has. “I’m fine, Jungkook. Don’t worry about me.” 

He huffs, resuming his meal. “Wasn’t worried,” he disarms, reaching over the table to snatch a mozzarella stick. 

You cover up your disgusted expression by wiping your chin with a soft blue napkin. Jungkook is really out here inhaling the whole table and being a bit of a jerk. 

“Well,” Taehyung claps his hands together, regarding all of you with a closed-lipped smile stretched so wide you’re worried he’ll break. “This is nice. I can’t imagine a time where I’d be reunited with you three. It’s weird. But a good weird.” 

“Ditto,” Jimin echoes, lifting his glass to clink with Taehyung’s. Throwing an arm over your shoulder he remarks, “could’ve never imagined my ‘ol best friend would’ve wanted to pursue fashion.” 

“What?” you glower, pinching his thigh, “I love fashion! I spent months planning my Clueless Halloween costume and our summers cosplaying!” 

“Right, Cher,” teased Jimin, “that yellow plaid suit that made you look like a bottle of mustard?” 

“You little–” 

Taehyung begins to laugh when you start to tickle Jimin in the sweet spots, causing Jimin to curl his leg around your ankle and pull you onto his lap for a hair pull. It’s all in fun and nothing hurts, but you’re so caught up in it you’re sure people are worried about your well-being. Even Jungkook is laughing, egging Jimin on while Taehyung weakly attempts to pull you away. 

If you could rewrite the last ten years of your life, this moment would define the remake. 

“Why are we here?” 

“For research purposes.” 

“Are you sure the actual purpose is because you don’t feel like working in the office?” 

“Jungkook,” you groan, tired of his infinite amount of negativity. “This was our senior trip! Of course I want to get a couple shots in before my big presentation.” 

“You’re risking my baby’s life,” Jungkook cradles the digital camera closer to his chest, swaddling it between its felt case. Ever since you purchased the camera, Jungkook has been unable to let it go. This adoption is both equal parts cute and strange, and you’re a little too scared to ask for it back. 

“I promise, no big rides,” you roll your eyes, “your baby will be fine.” 

The local amusement park is a fan-favorite amongst the city-goers, a reprieve from the hustle and a chance for you to spend your copious amounts of money on overpriced sugar and popcorn. The last time you went here was two weeks ago—in your mind. In Jungkook’s mind it was over ten years ago and he probably doesn’t even remember the time spent roaming the artificial floor and the infinite amount of bubbles that seem to eject from the air to add to the whimsical charm. 

Jungkook isn’t even paying attention, citing it as an artist block because he’s going through sensory overload with the amount of stimuli in the crowd. Screaming teenagers wailing under him from a nearby rollercoaster, the smell of sticky caramel apples pumping through the diffuser stands, and the amount of gaudy color that decorates every single logo of the park. 

He plops himself down on a nearby bench while you wait in line to get some food. It’s early in the morning and a weekday, so you figure this is the best time to get some photographs in without any passerbys. You figure Jungkook will get the hang of it once he has some food in his stomach. 

“A funnel cake?” Jungkook is bewildered when you return with the confection in hand, “it’s ten A.M.” 

You raise a brow, knowing how much Jungkook loves sweet foods. The funnel cake especially, he ate at least three when you went to your senior trip, one for every meal. But you’re an adult, or at least posing as one, and you shrug loftily, plucking a hot piece of fried dough from your plate. “Alright then,” you reply, “I’ll just eat the whole thing.” 

Once the cake touches your tongue, you can’t help but make an exaggerated moan in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook squirming like an earthworm next to you, either from the scrumptious smell of funnel cake or the way you’re so enthusiastically eating it. 

“W-wait,” Jungkook’s stomach growls at the perfect moment, “I want some. But I don’t want to get the camera dirty, pass me a napkin.” 

“I can just feed it to you!” you quip innocently, immediately ripping off a piece and shoving it between Jungkook’s pink lips. You feel a little slick in the finger, saliva briefly coating your digits before you pull away. You swallow, feeling a familiar tingle in your tummy and a sickening heat low in your belly. 

You fight back a sigh, wondering if your libido also did a massive growth spurt in your twenty-seven years of age. 

Jungkook is placated at the touch of food, and you take turns feeding yourself and feeding him while more customers trickle in the park. Confectioners sugar dusts Jungkook’s long-sleeved tee, the white color staining the dark fabric. You reach to pat his chest, ignoring the toneness that still remains from high school. 

“Alright, let’s ride,” you declare, pulling Jungkook up once you’re done eating. 

“Do we have to?” 

“What happened to the adrenaline junkie I once knew?” 

“He realized being an adrenaline junkie doesn’t make money and he should stay on the ground.” 

“Alright, Negative Nancy,” your reply has no bite to it, and suddenly you wished you invited Jimin or Seokjin before Jungkook. Jungkook may have the talent, but he certainly doesn’t have the attitude. You don’t even get why he’s still defensive, after all you thought he apologized in the beginning. It’s not like you’re the problem. 

“Gimmie your hand,” your thoughts cut out when Jungkook offers his large hand in front of yours, palm up. 

“Why?”

“C’mon,” he whines, settling for snatching your hand instead. His palms feel larger, rougher as they enclose your smaller hand. “Now hurry up and walk in front of me. I’m gonna take a picture.” 

You already have a feeling as to what this picture is going to look like, so you scrunch your nose. “That is so cheesy.” 

“It’s for the nostalgia factor, now hurry up and pretend we’re on a date.” 

You roll your eyes but relent, jogging a few steps ahead so you can get into character. This pose used to be a popular one, where the sweet boyfriend would be dragged around by the girlfriend’s hand, tugging him to wherever she wanted to go. It’s super cliche but if Jungkook figures it’ll fit your theme, you’ll do it. Eventually you forget that you’re holding his hand, and point ahead to some rides you want to try out. 

“Oh, Jungkook! Remember that one?” you point to a teacup ride, with guests spinning vigorously through their own seat. “Jimin got so sick he fell asleep in the car for an hour!” 

Jungkook doesn’t reply, so you turn around and face him. Click. Jungkook smirks at his little trick, which makes you rip your hand from his and walk further. 

“Hey, hey,” he chuckles, the first smile of the day. Food really does make him peaceful. “The shot looks good, you look good.” 

“Could’ve just asked me to turn around and pose,” you huff. 

“Then it would ruin the fun,” he replies, “now c’mon, let’s ride the teacups. For old time’s sake.” 

Ten minutes later and the both of you are soon regretting that decision. You’re once again slumped on the bench, this time unable to keep your head up so you rest it on Jungkook’s shoulder while he leans on your head. 

“Haven’t rode that since I was a teenager,” Jungkook moans, holding his stomach. “Remind me not to eat so fast before getting on that kind of ride.” 

You mirror his expression, feeling green. “Is this what late-adult life feels like?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook replies, unbeknownst of how shocked you are at how weak your body has become. “You wake up with back pain, pre-arthritis from all the typing you’ve done over the last decade, and a lot of stress. Definitely not the fantasy you’d imagine from your 20s.” 

“You think you’d be less stressed if you kept your lacrosse scholarship?” 

“Nah, I think I saved myself,” Jungkook shakes his head, “before I could be any more awful than I already was.” 

You refuse that notion, sending him a bitter smile. “Well, look at me. I became awful right after high school.” 

“I didn’t mean you—”

“I know,” you hold up a hand to stop him. The two of you follow a red path up the hill, leading to a simple cable car ride. It’s a slow travel ride, made to get from one side of the park to the other with a beautiful view over the lake. “But you see those tabloid articles. They must be true.” 

“I—I didn’t think they were all true,” Jungkook’s lying through his teeth to make you feel better, but you don’t care. “Why do you sound unsure?” 

You shrug, “Probably wasn’t sober for most of my bad decisions,” considering your friendship with Seokjin and his boisterous drinking attitude, you wouldn’t be surprised, “If they weren’t true, I believe Jimin and I would’ve stayed friends. I can’t imagine why I left my home like that. But I guess it doesn’t matter too much because I came back. And I mean, we’re here together doing work,” you gesture between the small space between each other, “I think that counts for something.”  

The two of you walk in silence for a bit, contemplating. The line to the cable car isn’t long but it’s slow, considering the cable only moves a couple meters a second. The take-off area is a risen slab of concrete, and the cars are continuously moving so you have to hop on one car as soon as another guest exits. 

There’s a little bit of space between it, a centimeter gap that could be nerve wracking if there’s no staff around. You think nothing of it as you fiddle on your phone, waiting for the staff member to let you and Jungkook in on the next car. 

Jungkook enters first, taking great care to cradle the camera in one hand so it doesn’t sway against the car. The car swings a little as well, and Jungkook holds out a hand for you to grab. 

Instead you focus on how the once bright glassy pink is sun-ravished, faded and rusting on the metal door flaps. The color is almost pearlescent, vastly different than the vivid color you saw two weeks ago. You almost want to reach out and touch it, wondering where that quality went. 

“Bun, be careful!” 

The tip of your heel nicks on the stepping stone, slipping like butter as you topple forward. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hauling you into the car just as the metal door locks into place. The hard plastic of the camera digs into your chest uncomfortably as you plop on top of Jungkook, between his legs as half his thighs rest against the uncomfortable seat. 

“Were you not watching where you were going?” Jungkook huffs, blowing his bangs over his forehead. 

Instead of an artful answer you blurt, “You, you called me Bun.” 

His eyes widen at your response, and his grip loosens around your body. His eyes dart anywhere but your face, his cheeks ruddied and stained coral as he moves to remove you from his body. “It was a slip of the tongue,” he coughs, turning on his camera and getting shots of the lake. 

You huff in response, sticking to your side of the carriage. “I missed it,” you murmur to the wind, although you make yourself loud enough for him to hear. 

You try to bury your sour expression in your sleeves, just to hide how absolutely childish you feel. You don’t even care that Jungkook is trying to take pictures of you looking out the view, only trying to eradicate the feelings that are still down deep in your blood. Even the twenty-seven year old Jungkook is charming, albeit in a completely different way. 

The grown, mature Jungkook toots to his own horn. He isn’t concerned about a team or an image, and gave it all up to pursue an art he loves. The lacrosse jerseys exchanged for bulky long sleeves, the sport for a camera, and a mask for his true image. 

“Let’s go,” Jungkook takes your hand again when the ride stops, not letting go until you’re on steady ground. You figure he must think you walk like a toddler barely on her first mile. 

Would Jungkook like you even as an adult? With all this money, this power and this confidence you envisioned as a seventeen-year-old, it still doesn’t feel enough for him. In fact, you feel like a sore thumb sticking out, decorated in silly rumors and expensive clothes that separate you far from your roots. 

“Hey,” Jungkook touches your arm, pointing to a basketball carnival game, “remember this one?” 

“Yeah,” forcing a smile, you follow him to the small crowd that starts to form around the basketball game. The baskets are a short distance from the player, but so high up that it’s hard to tell the shape of the hoop. “I tried to tell you that it was completely rigged. From an angle you can see it’s still oval-shaped.” 

“And I told you it didn’t matter if the hoop was an octagon, I’d get you that prize,” he jerks a thumb to the prize booth, where a blue Piplup plush sits proudly with all the other starter Pokemon. “And I did.” 

“It’s still in my room,” you reply proudly, even though Jungkook is acting almost immaturely smug. “I, I mean it’s still in my room in my parent’s house. It’s probably lonely because my parents have been on a cruise for almost two weeks.” 

He raises a brow, eyes drifting to the booth. “Should I win another one to keep your bed in the city warm?” 

“That sounded oddly sexual.” 

“You know what I mean,” and Jungkook’s rolling up his sleeves, handing you the camera. 

“Jungkook,” you whine when he pulls out a roll of bills from his pocket, as if he prepared for this moment, “Jungkook c’mon—I don’t need any stuffed animals. Ugh.” 

You swear that the majority of your day is spent watching Jungkook blow cash on a low-quality stuffed animal with packaging pellets for the inside. Turns out carnival technology has also enhanced over the years, and it takes both your whining and the clerk’s whining to stop Jungkook from blowing his entire wallet to get one basket in. Eventually the staff relents and lets Jungkook take a Piplup keychain instead, glumly handing it over to you. 

“I like this better,” you chirp, clipping the ring onto your car keys, “now I can bring Piplup everywhere.” 

A small, barely there smile appears on Jungkook’s face. 

The rest of the day melts away like that, and before you know it the sun is slipping into the horizon and you’re being dropped off at your apartment. Jungkook even insists to walk you to your door, because your prizes are heavy. (Yes, he went back for the oversized Piplup.) 

It’s all too familiar, the way the walk upstairs is achingly slow, as if the moment is stretching itself down the hallway. How Jungkook looks so prideful holding the fruits of his labor, following you with a tug of your hand because the prize is too big for Jungkook to see straight. 

At the same time it’s different. The way you wobble around the hallway because you’re a little tipsy from wine flights is noticeable, even cute. How easy it is to not feel nervous when you clutch at his hand. How you two look like a seasoned couple, coming home from an all-day date. 

It ends at the front door, and you crack it open so you can slip your prizes through the crack. 

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you hold up the SD card that held all the precious memories of this week. 

This is where you part ways. You’ll spend the rest of the night editing your presentation, while Jungkook promised to go to a bar with his friends. A little part of you hoped you’d be invited, but you knew that would be impractical considering you have work in the morning. 

“Break a leg,” he says, leaning on the balls of his feet with his hands in his pockets, “you’ll do great. You’ve always been meant to do great things.” 

The investment he lays on you is insurmountable, and you feel yourself flush with simultaneous excitement and anxiety. Unknowing how to calm your nerves, you give him a small “thank you” and put your hand on the knob to slip away. 

“Wait—” 

You blink, a deer in the headlights as Jungkook swoops down and kisses you. 

You’ve received kisses—kisses reserved for a twenty-seven year old, before. Seokjin is an eager lover, and you felt it that fateful morning and even during your photoshoot when he tried to be sneaky and pull you away. Fleeting bites, kisses to the neck that are wet and hot.

Jungkook’s kiss does not feel like that. It feels like home. It feels like coming home after a long day of work, wrapping yourself in an old afghan and a hot cup of tea. The feeling of hot laundry, fresh front the dryer and smelling of floral softener. It tastes like ten years lost in a void, returning to your senses and lighting you up.

He holds you as if you’ll disappear right in front of him. Large hands cup your face, like a precious thing he never wants to let go. Your hands can do nothing but grapple after his, nails digging into his skin. 

“Good night, Jungkook,” you send him a lovestruck smile, a puppy love face. 

“Good bye, Bun,” he replies simply, jogging down the hallway. 

Being twenty-seven starts to feel a little more like heaven. 

Jennie used to annoy you in high school, but now she just down right scares you. 

Her presentation is one straight out of a thriller, with red shadow lights and neon green splattered in the dark room. Her models are intense, her designs are beautiful but overwhelmingly chaotic, and the whole affair is rather grotesque. The headline Fashion Suicide glares at you in a morbid scarlet font. 

Hoseok sends her a tight-lipped smile, and presses a button on his desk. “I need my antacids, Krystal,” Hoseok deadpans. 

Nothing betrays Jennie’s wicked expression, in fact her smirk widens at Hoseok’s fear. 

You on the other hand, are cool as a cucumber when you walk up to the front of the conference room. In fact, you barely have to say anything as the presentation presents itself. Jungkook took the liberty of making a video compilation for you, one that they could use in YouTube and Instagram promotions. 

“This, is preserving our youth,” you declare proudly, letting the video play. The music that accompanies it is very coming-of-age, like a yearbook slideshow of all the pictures you took. Taehyung, Jimin and Seokjin hold their arms around each other in matching attire, looking like friends for life. There’s even some videos of you and Jungkook at the park, playfully arguing at each other. “I’m tired of seeing people who could care less about my life, who I can’t relate to.” 

“This issue is for the unsung heroes—my best friend’s older sibling, the captain of the football team, and the black sheep with a dream.” 

The video cuts to Jungkook, looking ultra cool at the camera while he’s dictating Seokjin’s moves. It was taken on your phone, and you’re zooming in on Jungkook’s serious face before it breaks into a laugh, eyes crinkling and bunny teeth showing at whatever stupid thing Seokjin said. 

And finally, the video fades into a mock cover. The five of you are beaming at the camera, cheek-to-cheek as you hold up the placard: Ego: Class of Youth. 

Needless to say, the issue is yours. 

You ignore Jennie’s icy stare as you leave the room to negotiate with the creative teams on a set schedule. However, it seems that you can’t get a bit of rest when Jennie waits for you in your office.

“Jennie, get off of my desk,” you frown, watching a coffin-tipped nail flicking against a photograph of you holding hands with Jungkook in the amusement park. It hangs on a corkboard, standing up with all the other ideas that you and Jungkook have spent the last week meticulously planning.The black enamel scratches at your smiling face. You are not having this, not after all your hard work and all the meetings that have just been planned. 

Her feet dangle in the air, kicking back and forth as she sings your name. “You’re still such a child,” she sighs dramatically. “In fact, I think your cute little-wittle idea would suit something more like Highlights or Disney Monthly.”

“You’re just upset I did better than you,” you cross your arms.

Jennie’s nail slices your visage in half. 

“You’re right,” Jennie turns a 180 and gives you a bright, candy-coated smile. “Your idea is so good, it doesn’t suit Ego. In fact, I’m sure the editors at Mono will pay a pretty penny.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ugh, you are such a fake.” Jennie giggles, “now, did you send this idea to Namjoon yet? Their publishing date is two weeks before ours, so I’m sure they’re getting to work on this whole Throwback Thursday spread.” 

You can’t believe the words coming from Jennie’s mouth. Before all of this, just how awful of a person were you? How could you sabotage your company on the regular, just to get paid a little extra dough for a rival company? It makes you think about what could’ve possibly changed. Had leaving your friends without a care in the world made you into this lost adult, grappling at the seams for attention? In college, did Jennie coerce you into being manipulative and backstabbing, and because without Jimin and needing confidence in a friend, you reluctantly agreed?

The coffee from this morning starts to back up in your throat, but you immediately tamp it down. No, you can’t be pushed around like this. You can’t keep pushing people around. You don’t want a life like this, and if you ever return to your old life, you’ll damn make sure you’ll create a future without Jennie in the picture. 

“I’m not going to send anything to Mono, and I’ve already fessed up to Hoseok,” you lift your nose in the air, voice impeccably clear for someone who’s absolutely bluffing. But Jennie’s face hits the ground, immediately buying your lie. You suppose you did become a good actress after ten years. Maybe Seokjin taught you a few pointers. “So if I were you, I’d swallow your tongue before words get around. I worked it out but don’t be surprised if a pink slip comes your way.” 

Turns out that no matter what, high school never ends. There will always be backstabbers and freaks and geeks. A mean girl that you subconsciously try so hard to appease, a grade that defines your life, and drama up to the neck. 

“He doesn’t like you, y’know,” Jennie whispers, but the words are loud and clear and you know exactly who she’s talking about. “Never had, and never will.” 

“You’re wrong,” you hold your hands, clasping them together to keep them from trembling, “he likes me.” 

So you leave the office, determined to prove yourself. That kiss last night was nothing short of magical, and it took a lot of strength for you to not drive up to Jungkook’s apartment in the morning in the hopes for another one. You pick up a pizza near his place, filling it up with your favorite toppings on one half and his favorites on his. A bottle of peach champagne is nestled between your arms. In the bathroom while waiting for your pizza, you’ve wriggled out of your tight suit and into a blue hoodie and bicycle shorts. Tonight, you’re celebrating. 

You’re vibrating as you’re knocking eagerly on his front door, excited to tell him the news. You hear a rustle from the couch, and some blankets shifting about. He must’ve passed out after going to the bar, how cute. 

But when the door opens, the vision in front of you is far from cute.

A woman, with cat eyes and a slim figure, tilts her head at you. She’s dressed in a large white shirt, transparent enough to show her lacy black bra and panties. Bruises decorate her neck and thighs, like red and purple gems. Her long black hair swishes, slightly frizzy at the bottom. 

“Can I help you?” her voice is sultry and velvety. “Are you looking for JK?” 

It’s obvious as to what transpired. Jungkook dipped after kissing you and fucked another woman. A woman who’s the complete opposite of you. Someone flirty and sexy and willing to give Jungkook what he wants. You don’t know who you should be mad at. 

“Who’s at the door?” Jungkook calls from the inside, and you nearly drop your bottle at the sound of the rasp. They must’ve had a fuckfest if they’re just waking up now.

Your cheeks are burning. Your heart is aching. And the vile that bubbled up from Jennie’s tirade is now resurfacing. From the way your eyes are watering, you must look like a crybaby. 

“Say, JK,” the woman closes the frame tighter around her small head, preventing you from seeing inside and for Jungkook to peer, “do you have any pathetic ex-girlfriends?” 

“No,” comes the muffled reply, “come back to bed, it’s getting cold without you,” the pizza starts to burn uncomfortably against your grip, “why the random question?” 

“Dunno, seems like you’ve had at least one.” 

At that moment, your savior appears in grey jeans and a beige hoodie. Jimin walks up to the floor, clutching a bag of groceries. It’s not hard to put two and two together as he spots you looking incredibly small in front of the strange woman, trying so hard not to break down. 

Your tears finally fall when Jimin reaches you. “Wrong room,” you mutter under your breath, quickly following your old best friend when he shoves you in his apartment. 

No words need to be explained when Jimin leaves the groceries on the coffee table and he’s pulling you onto his lap. You clutch him like a koala, rubbing mascara and blush all over his clothes as you sob. He pats your back and soothes your hiccups by offering you a glass of water. The stages of your meltdowns are pretty cut and dry, even after ten years. He still encourages you to finish the whole glass. He makes sure you have something to eat. He cuts your pizza into little bite sized pieces and feeds you. He doesn’t pressure you to talk until you’re ready, although he has a hunch as to what’s going on. 

And when you talk, he doesn’t expect a firm, “Take me home,” from you. 

“O-okay,” Jimin agrees immediately, pulling you into a sitting position. “Uptown, right? We can call an Uber or something and order from a restaurant.” 

“No,” you reply firmly, “Home-home. I want to go back to my parent’s house.” 

“That’s fine too,” he squeezes your shoulder, accepting the fob you hold out to him, “it’ll take about an hour, but I think the drive will be nice.” 

So you two sneak off into the sunset, clutching twin slices of pizza as you roll away into your Tesla. Jimin is right, ten minutes into the drive and you’re soothed by his smooth driving and the scent of fried cheese and dough. Your friend has been calm all this time, so you figure this is the right time for him to pop off. Again, this is also part of your breakdown routine. 

“Say, does this thing do calls?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the settings on your steering wheel, “Tesla, call Jeon Jungkook.” 

“Jimin,” you say weakly, although the little malicious side of you wants to goad him on. You don’t bother to fight the best friend territorialism, you just watch as his hands clutch at the steering wheel as the speakers ring. 

Jungkook picks up on the second ring, “Hey!” he says brightly, and it makes your chest pang to know how oblivious he is, “how did the presentation go?” 

“Fuck you, Jungkook!” you cover your free hand on your ear at Jimin’s shrill yell, louder than the speakers that carry Jungkook’s voice. “Fuck you for breaking my best friend’s heart twice!” 

The silence is deafening. It’s scary, like you could slash a butter knife right through the tension. 

Jimin continues, “I can understand high school because you were a real doofus, but this! You fucking lead my best friend on, only to fuck another girl right under her nose! She came all the way to your apartment from a long-ass day at work to celebrate and you ruin that day! I thought you’ve grown for the better but turns out nothing has changed since prom night. You’re still the stupid, confused little boy that doesn’t want to admit how they really feel,” you gasp at the blow, watching Jimin’s gritted teeth as he zooms down the freeway on a mission. “Good fucking riddance, Jeon!” 

Jimin punches the “hang up” button. A couple seconds of heavy breathing, and he turns to you with a gentle smile. 

“So, you want to listen to Taylor Swift’s new album?” 

Your room is lost in time. The Hunger Games novels are stacked on your shelf, looking old and worn. A Glee poster hangs over your four-poster bed, the yellow and red faded and the corners hanging by a thread from the old tape. The sheets are a pale pink, ruffly and definitely not in style anymore. When you sit on it, it creaks uncomfortably. 

You hug yourself, tucking your knees in as Jimin marvels at the room with an equal amount of awe. 

“If you could, would you go back to high school?” Jimin asks, sitting at the edge of your bed. 

With a lazy shrug, you smile at your collection of polaroids that are hanging above your vanity. You’re still hurt, but the pain is no longer rolling in waves. “Maybe,” you reply, “probably would’ve taken you to Europe with me.” 

He chuckles, “Is that the only thing you would change?” 

“If I knew what I knew now?” you tilt your head, “I don’t know.” 

Jimin gets off your bed, pressing a kiss into your forehead. “I’m gonna raid the kitchen and see if we can make something for dinner, yeah? Since your parents are on vacation and your fridge is probably empty, don’t  judge me if there’s only Totino’s pizza rolls and nuggets in the freezer.” 

When Jimin leaves your room, you quietly close the door and lock it. You lean against the cracked wooden door, falling onto the carpet and letting the tears fall. Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like? Evading pain and working too hard and trying everyday to stay afloat? Is adult life always going to be this difficult?  

These past two weeks have been nothing short of a rollercoaster. Major highs and major lows, and after today you thought you reached the end of the ride. However, it’s looking like the ride has no destination in mind, rolling in waves and finding a new hill or loop to catch you off-guard. 

“Are you kidding—how did you know we were here?” Another corkscrew. 

“You’re a turtle on the road, Jimin. Now move out of the way.” 

Jungkook’s voice startles you, and you tense when you see the gold door knob jiggle. Of course as strong as Jimin is, he’s no match for Jungkook. You hear Jimin grumble to curse Jungkook out, and the sound of him stomping down the stairs. 

“Hey, open up. Please,” Jungkook’s voice is weak and strained, and you only hug yourself tighter as the knocks continue. “Or, don’t. It seems like you can listen to me perfectly from here. I can hear your breathing.” 

You don’t say a peep, preferring to let everything fizzle out. Hopefully Jungkook will give up, say a pathetic sorry and be on his merry way. You don’t know why he’s followed you all the way over here, why would he bother coming when the damage is already done. 

There’s a slide of fabric across wood, and you can feel the door shake against your back as Jungkook leans on his side out in the hallway. 

“Back in high school, Jennie proposed that I date you to get back at you for stealing Jennie’s sewing sample and getting the higher grade,” you close your eyes, letting the story unravel. “She wanted to build you up before breaking you down, and back then I was vulnerable and thrived on attention, so I thought nothing of it.” 

You hear a breathy exhale from his side, as if it pains him to continue, “But obviously, it wasn’t true and I only realized it until I was way too deep. I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you. We were so wrapped up in this relationship I even convinced myself it was real, until Jennie said she’d crush you at prom night.

“I should’ve tried harder to convince us not to go. I should’ve told Jennie to fuck off. I should’ve come clean. I should’ve done something,” his fist bangs against your door, the vibrations of the impact thrumming in your back, “seeing you so beautiful in that dress all heartbroken because I didn’t act sooner. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Hearing him pour his heart out is like watching your memories in his shoes. The pieces find homes and paint a picture left unfinished. 

“And then when you showed up at my doorstep, I was so angry. I knew you felt it. But I wasn’t upset at you, I was upset at myself. I felt so fucking guilty. I hated how easy it was for you to let me back into your life. I hated how easy it was to fall for you all over again. I knew how much I didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but you gave it to me and I was too selfish to refuse. I had so much fun, the most fun I’ve had in awhile. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you. I didn’t intend for it to I just, I couldn’t help myself. And then I was so scared that I turned away and made the second biggest regret to date.

“But it proves that we’re not meant to be together. I don’t deserve you,” the last part is hushed, a nail in the coffin, “we can’t turn back the time, but if I could I would change it all. I would be by your side and make your world even better than it is right now. I’m sorry it’s too late.” 

You clutch your mouth, suppressing the cries that muffle through the door. You hear Jungkook get up from your old carpet, turn the other way and head downstairs. 

Your first love just closed the chapter for you. His words show how much he cared for you, but didn’t know how to express it. How immature he was, how he realized everything too late. And now, he wants to set you free. Even if it is a good thing, it still tears you to shreds. 

Moving to your vanity, you pull out the chair and lean your head on the table, eyes poking through your hair. You look awful. The skin under your waterline is puffy and your eyes are red and bloodshot. Your forearms feel greasy, and you lift them up to reveal glitter painting the entirety of your skin. Your eyes dart to the open glitter, the package that Jimin gifted to you that fateful prom night. The compact is broken in half and left on the table, probably a product of your younger cousins fiddling through your old room. 

Ignoring the sticky feeling, you let yourself continue to cry. You feel like you’re stuck in the bathroom of the prom venue, waiting for an opportunity to sneak out and go. 

But you want nothing more than to go back to that moment. As amazing as your twenty-seven year old life is, you’re not ready for it. You don’t want a life without Jungkook, or a life having to constantly catch up and mend your relationship with Jimin. You don’t want to be the backstabbing bitch that tips off other magazines, or the two-faced woman who messes around with others for the sake of pleasure.

You long to go back. You long to live and grow. To be seventeen and have time to grow in-between. 

When you lift your head from your vanity, you’re ten years younger.

You scream. 

Your parents dash to your room with a kitchen knife and a confused face. With a wary smile and a teary gaze you say that it’s only a pimple. Your mother giggles and drops the knife, hugging you and helping you conceal the invisible mark. The hug is so warm and so missed that you nearly sigh in content. You’ve missed them. 

It’s a little strange to think well beyond your years, your brain still reeling from the trip you’ve just had. Your hands smooth over your body, the previous curves and maturity hidden away in your skin. That’s okay, you don’t mind waiting anymore. There’s much more important things at hand. 

If Jungkook isn’t going to realize his mistakes until it’s too late, you have to speed up the process. 

Stealing your parent’s keys and hopping in your Accord, you drive off to Jungkook’s. Hair and makeup not done, and still in your plain shirt and jeans. An hour from now, Jungkook will text you saying his car is down and he’ll meet you at the venue. 

It’s still rush hour, so he doesn’t notice when you park a few houses down. He’s sitting on his front porch, looking out the road. There’s really nothing in front of him, he’s just staring aimlessly, probably nervous about what’s about to go down tonight. You suppress a sigh, engraving the vision to memory. He looks great in his fitted black suit and tie, a little silver pocket square on the breast to match your dress. 

He gets up quickly when he sees you, as if caught in the act. Staring at your plain clothes he asks, “Bun, why aren’t you dressed? Prom’s soon—”

“Jungkook, I want to break up.” 

You see it in his eyes. Vulnerability. No longer do you feel insecure, the future told you that Jungkook genuinely did care for you back then. Or in this case, right now. His usual cheery expression crumples at your feet, and his hands fall at his sides. It feels a little unfair, knowing that you have experience under your belt, and Jungkook’s experiencing these feelings for the first time, unprepared. 

“What?” he wilts, “why?” 

“I know about Jennie’s plan,” you say instantly, unfazed. You give him a tight-lipped smile when realization hits his face. “So I know this whole relationship is orchestrated. The sewing sample fiasco is wrong, obviously. But I’m not going to get mad at you, I know she played you as much as she played me,” you clasp the straps of your purse, stopping you from fidgeting, “we graduate in a few months anyway. We don’t have to see or talk about this ever again. You should go enjoy your prom night with your other friends.” 

The present-day Jungkook is still young and confused. He’s at a loss, looking like he’s on sensory overload as he absorbs all the information. You see his eyes flicker to where your Accord is parked, your prom dress hanging on one of the arm pulls. You never even pulled it out of the bag. 

“Here,” you pull his corsage from your purse, placing the white rose atop the porch. If you try to put it on him, you fear you may never leave. With a determined huff, you turn around in the direction of your car.

“Where are you going?” he asks, clutching the railing of his porch, “what about prom?” 

“I have other plans,” you shrug over your shoulder, “have a good night.” 

You don’t look back, although you feel Jungkook’s stare burning in your head. You take great care in going into drive and punching in a new destination in your clunky GPS. This time you have to do things one at a time, once you get your Tesla ten years from now, you’re sure this process will be much easier. 

Jimin’s family comes out of the airport, looking impeccable as always. Ten years younger, with puffy cherub cheeks and bright eyes. To your surprise (but also all things considered, it’s Jimin), your best friend comes out in a three-piece suit. It’s burgundy, and suits his dark hair well. He places his luggage into your car, hugs his family good-bye and waits for them to depart in their cab. 

“You are all dressed up, and for what,” you chuckle, driving out of the airport.

“Well, when you sent that voicemail that you’d be waiting for me, I changed in the bathroom,” Jimin quips, already fiddling with your radio to play some poppy overplayed music, “but why aren’t you dressed? I thought we were going to be fashionably late to prom. Spill.”

“Hm, let’s talk about it in the morning. I wanna enjoy my prom night,” and you reach over to ruffle Jimin’s soft black strands, “y’know, you’d look really sexy as a blond.” 

He pulls down your mirror, positioning it over his face. Pursing his plush lips, he tilts his head. “Yeah, maybe when I’m older,” he grins at his reflection, “so if we’re not going to prom, let’s go get pizza.” 

So the two of you get pizza. But not before you take your prom pictures. Your parents meet you at the park with their old digital camera, ready for your impromptu photoshoot. Jimin uses an old tarp to cover the car up while you change in the car, shimmying in your sparkly silver tulle dress. Your hair is held up and away from your face, looking clean enough to be presentable as you pose for the camera. The two of you pick yellow dandelions from the grass, matching flowers as last minute dates. Your parents coo and are happy for you, knowing that even if you don’t attend the actual dance, the pictures will last forever and you’ll smile at them for years. 

Eventually you tell Jimin about Jungkook and the whole fiasco (sans the ten year mental time jump.) The reaction is expected, Jimin says he wants to fuck Jungkook up. Surprisingly for him, he doesn’t have to do much to console you. In fact, you sip coolly from your smoothie and say Jungkook will probably let Jimin get a punch in even though Jungkook can bench press his tiny body in half. But you tell him you’re okay, and all you want to do is go home and binge watch. 

Jimin carries the pie in his lap while you pull up your driveway. The smell of toasty cheese and fresh dough fill your car. 

“I want to watch Sky City,” Jimin sing-songs, “Kim Seokjin is God’s gift!” 

You crinkle your nose, “He’s alright.” 

“What! You thought he was so hot like, last week.” 

“Things change.” 

Jimin makes it to your room first, saying he’ll take care of setting things up. He’ll probably steal all the available cushions and make a fort for himself while he puts a picnic blanket on the floor in front of your television. You can imagine him hogging all your stuffed animals, placing it on his side of the carpet while he rifles through your drawers so he can change out of his suit. 

Your parents tell you to take out the trash before you have fun tonight. Careful not to get your dress dirty, you hold it away from your body as you waddle out the front door. You make it two steps into the driveway before the soggy trash bag is whisked from your hands.

“I got it,” Jungkook says quietly, and it takes little to no effort for him to haul the large bag into the waiting trash can. His shoulders are slumped under his white button-up, his suit jacket probably stuffed somewhere in the back of the car. 

“Jungkook,” you reply, dumbfounded, “it’s only eight, prom isn’t even over yet.” 

“I know… but then I realized you weren’t gonna get your money’s worth if you didn’t go. I asked the waitress if she could get me a doggie bag for my date and,” he holds up a stapled bag, presumably the dinner that was supposed to be served, “it’s your favorite.” 

“Thank you,” you give him a small, grateful smile as you accept the bag. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.” 

He bites his lip, stuffing his hands in his dress pockets. “A-and you told me before you left that I should go spend prom night with my friends,” he ruffles his hair, blown out of the pomade and falling into his eyes, “and then I realized that you were right. Jennie and all those people out there aren’t really my friends. They like my rep and they like my attention, but they don’t like me.” 

You shake your head, “Jungkook, you’re very likable. Jennie and her group are just one bad bunch.” 

“But I don’t wanna be liked by my rep. I wanna be liked for the things I love,” he steps a hesitant step towards you, and he relaxes when he sees that you don’t recoil, “I haven’t told anyone this. But I want to drop that sports scholarship. I applied to an art school, and I got in.” 

Suppressing a grin with a bite of your lips, you cheer silently in your head. Things are changing. “I’m so happy for you, Jungkook. Congrats.” 

“And I’m sorry for all the fucked up things I did. Jennie may have manipulated me but I definitely was a big part of it,” Jungkook pulls the words out of the sky, finally having enough time to formulate an apology, “but please don’t doubt for a second that my feelings are fake. I really like you, and I wish we got to know each other under better circumstances.”

“I wish we could’ve,” you echo sadly. “But our futures—” 

“I don’t want to lose you.” 

“I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you.”

You shake your head, frowning at his kicked puppy expression. “I’m considering a fashion school in Europe,” you reach for Jungkook’s hand, squeezing it. Letting him know that everything’s going to be okay. “You and Jimin can visit me during the breaks, Europe has some great spots to photograph.” 

Something in Jungkook’s gaze tells you that it’s not enough for him. He wants to be selfish and hold onto you tighter, but you know that’s not good for the both of you right now. “That’d be nice,” he says vaguely, giving you a pained smile. 

Jungkook rubs his thumb over your hand, relishing in the softness of your skin. “You look really pretty,” he says, looking forlornly over the dress. He can only imagine how ethereal you’d look under the fairy lights that decorated the venue, “I wish we could’ve had one dance.” 

You shrug, “The night’s still young,” you gesture to the space in the driveway, and the lights that overhead the garage. 

The slow Taylor Swift music that plays from his pocket is muffled, but it doesn’t deter either of you as he places his hands on your waist and you wrap his around his neck. You’re wearing your bunny house slippers and Jungkook’s neck is moist from his nervous sweats, but you know that this memory will be engraved in your brain for years to come. 

It feels good to know that from now on, you don’t have to be so concerned about the future now that you’ve had a taste of it. All you want now is to take it one day at a time. At this moment the, the only thing you want to do is focus on how you’re going to hold onto Jungkook for the last time. At least for now, who knows what will happen in the future. 

“I really want to kiss you, Bun,” he leans in, foreheads touching, “but I don’t deserve it.” 

“You’re right,” you tease, “you don’t.” 

He frowns playfully, “Ouch. But fair.” 

Yet you figure you’ve made enough headway these past few weeks, and you deserve to be a little selfish. One last kiss, you think to yourself. Your fingers flatten against the pressed material of his collar, meeting in the middle to clutch Jungkook’s slim black tie. Jungkook bites his lip, looking down at you for permission. With the tiniest of nods, you get on your tippy toe toes you lean forward and you can smell the apple cider lingering on his lips—

“Ohmygod—are you broken up or not!” both of you whip your heads up to see Jimin hanging over your open window, looking absolutely bored. His arms dangle over your sill, wearing a frayed high school jumper. “Either tell him to get lost or invite him over to watch television because I’m hungry!” 

You pull away from him fully, squeezing his biceps. “Want pizza?” 

He shakes his head, “I think it’s a trap. Jimin’s waiting for me to come up so he can rip my head off,” he gives a tentative wave to the second floor, but Jimin just scoffs and goes back inside, “but I’ll see you Monday.” 

“Okay. Good night, Kook.” 

“Good night, Bun.” 

Your heart pinches a little as you watch him drive away. Before, you knew what the end game was between you two. It didn’t end pretty. Now, you’re not so sure. At the very least, it isn’t ending on a sour note. 

Some time later.

“Your majesty,” you give her a practiced smile, taking careful measures not to brush the lady’s shoulders too hard in the fear she’ll whittle away, “emerald is an impeccable color on you.” 

The Queen of England (the McDuckin' Queen of England!) just laughs at you and waves you off. You can’t believe you’re photographing a real queen. This is like the childhood equivalent of meeting Malibu Barbie. You thank every single choice and mistake you’ve made in your entire life that has brought you up to this impeccable moment. She’s a vision, you could cry. In fact, you’ll cry later in the comfort of your hotel room. “Do you think the photographer will take long?” she asks, frowning, “I have drinks with my friends in an hour.” 

You smirk, pleased to know she’s still kicking it in her golden years. “Yeah, just so long as my husband doesn’t get distracted. Fifteen minutes, tops.” 

“I’m not distracted,” Jungkook huffs, pulling away from his tripod. He gives up on trying to stabilize the camera, instead preferring to go freehand for this one. He gives you an incredulous look, hands on his hips, “I have two queens in my viewfinder and I only got room for one. Get out of the shot, Bun.” 

With a playful roll of your eyes, you step away from the lady of the hour to let Jungkook do his thing. He’s right in his element, blurting choreographed poses and telling the lighting people to move at his beck and call to get the perfect angle. You stand a distance behind him, letting him take control. 

“I’m so hungry,” your whisper is low enough to blend between the jazz music, but loud enough for Jungkook’s ears to listen in, “please tell me you’re almost done.” 

“Oui, oui.” 

“Wrong language, Kook. Please don’t offend anyone,” and discreetly, you take one step closer in your Tory Burch flats, “did you get any candids of me and the Queen?” 

“Duh, Bun,” you can’t see his face but you know he’s grinning, “Jimin will faint.” 

"Oh, yes! Thank you, I love you," you gush, reaching over to discreetly pinch his butt. 

He shakes his head, looking over his shoulder to give you a brief smirk, "Show me how thankful you are tonight." 

So silly, you think. It's amazing how well you work together as two separate entities of a photoshoot yet share a brain cell in the presence of each other. In another world, Jungkook said if given the chance, he'd be by your side and make your world a better place. 

Ten years later, it's exactly that and more. 

[arcadejohn127-9]

Heyyy, I hope you’re doing ok! I love ur blog and I know we’re strangers who will possibly never meet but Recently, the little things have pushed me over the edge and close to an anxiety attack I presume but I’ve been using knitting and crochet to cope. It sounds weird Ik, but may u do the brothers and Undateables with an MC who does that and MC just ends up making so much stuff in one day that she gives it away to them. I’m so sorry if it’s weird, pls feel free to choose whether to do it or not but this blog has made me a little happier than before, thank you for reading and being here!

I actually use to do knitting, never finished anything and lost interest but it was really calming and fun. Couldn't keep my attention for long as it was very repetitive and got boring quickly but I always just genuinely enjoyed it despite that?

Stress knitting seems like the most wholesome way to handle anxiety and stress, it helps you focus on something else, you're being productive and having fun aswell as being safe! Though do be careful with the needles

And thank you for being here and supporting me, I'm glad I could make you feel even a little bit happier, a small amount of happiness is better than none! So thank you for making my night with how kind you are! Your habit and anxiety relief isn't weird at all, I don't see how it could be weird tbh

Sorry this took so long, I feel stupid now but I got really stumped on some of them on what to make but now I'm laughing at myself due to how obvious they were

Lucifer:

You made him mug holders and now it's all he uses

"It's very useful, I'll take extra care of it - no need to worry."

He can handle the heat but he must use what you've made

You even made a massive sweater and socks for Cerberus

How you got his dogs measurements is beyond him but it was the most prominent things he uses from your biggest pile

But he was no fool, he knew you

He knew your habits and how you've grown more anxious

He isn't always the most available person with his emotions and with his schedule

But he was always willing to listen to your issues

Mammon:

You made him a money pouch - how could he not be happy??!!

He loves jingling it to hear all his latest 'finds'

What was even better you made him a sweater he got to wear for his modeling job and show off to Everyone

That article was an interesting find

"CHECK IT! everyone loved your sweater! I say we can make a bussiness with this."

But when you come handing him a large bag full of your latest projects he can't help but raise a brow

He's greedy, he loves being showered in gifts

But he knew you, he took note on your emotional

He got pouty but he hugged your shoulders

Reminding you that you can always come to him and he'll make you feel better

Levithan:

You made him knitted wrist support, for his long gaming sessions

He wears them pretty much everyday at this point

Not only are they comfortable and helpful

But you made them! Specifically for him! For him to use! YOU MADE IT!

Has bragged to his gaming friends about it one too many times

"My player 2 is obviously better than yours, does yours knit cute things for you? I thought so."

Also you made him a crotchet plush of his favourite animal crossing chatacter, he prefers the Devildom version of the game but he's a sucker for bright cute things

Anything he could he'd either put in on his desk or on his figure cupboards

But when you come in with a massive pile, strained smile he felt himself panic

You both have anxiety, you were comrades in it! So of course he knew how knitting was part of your coping mechanism

He felt annoyed and worried on why you weren't coming to him but quickly calmed himself down, when he saw he patted your head

Explaining you can always come to him because you're in this together

He definitely stole a line or two from his latest favourite media

Satan:

Crotchet chair cat paw socks was his favourite out of the pile

"They're little paws..... I need these for all my furniture!"

His second favourite is the baggy sweater you knitted for him

He's going to cherish these gifts until he dies

Which could be never

Though even in death he'd be keeping what you've made him

Worried about the massive increase as he knows it's coping for your anxiety

He's read books about anxiety so he has a fair amount of knowledge on it

Insists you can always come to him when you're worried

Asmodeus:

He adored everything you made!

The sweater had little holes in them? He doesn't care and even smirks at the holes

"wanting to expose my beautiful skin~? I don't blame you."

Made a scarf? He'll wear that instead of his usual black one

Just knitted squares or unwearable things? Proudly shows off your work

Is concerned you've been so ridden with anxiety

He wants to help as much as he can, he has teas and bath scents for these kind of things

Just say the word and he'll bring all of it out

Beezlebub:

A crotchet layered burger he can take apart because it's velcro-ed together??!

It's like a real burger!

He tries not to bite or chew on it but it has happened before

Would feel awful if he accidentally ripped it

"I love it, are you going to make more?"

Didn't expect for you to actually make more

As time went on he learned that it helps you calm down from anxiety

So he especially didn't expect you to come in with a massive bag full of your latest creation's

He immediately got worried

You wanted to show them off to distract your mind but he just grabbed your head

Gently moving it so you looked at him

He told you he wants to help and he'll be there for you, no matter what and no matter when

Belphegor:

You made him w blanket - you know how young children are normally seen with baby blankets? Just always carrying them around

Yeah that's him

"You can't make me take it off Lucifer-! This is MY gift from (Y/N) and I'm going to make sure everyone sees it!"

Always showing off the blanket you made him by carrying it around or having it wrapped around him

He loves it! He also loves the pillow covers you made! It helps spice up his pillow collection

But you can't hide your anxiety from him, he goes out of his way to give people it

And soon he found out how kitting was a coping mechanism

He felt a little special you were making him things because it calmed you down but also worried about your mental health

The concern RISED when you were in the attic, placing and organising the big pile you had

He hugged you and flopped onto the bed

Telling you that he'll look after you and you can tell him what's wrong, stress naps are always welcomed with him

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Didn't expect to find such a huge pile of new stuff in his room

He saw mug holders and mits

Horn warmers

And his favourite- a shawl with tassels, he immediately wrapped it around him and refused to take it off

He's going to wear this everywhere no matter his outfit

"Barbatos can be strict but I'll wear this no matter what, if I even see a spec of dirty on it I'll make sure to get it cleaned with delicate care."

But then it hit him, you become more active with your hobby when you become anxious

He immediately got to you, asking you if you're okay

He's ready to charge your whole class schedule if he has to

Barbatos:

You crocheted desserts and he never felt so much warmth and love in his heart

Almost collapsed from sweetness when he found a knitted pair of gloves in the big pile of your creation's

Appreciates the gifts alot

"these are marvelous, I look forward to see what else you make."

Brings you calming teas as a thank you, understanding your anxiety must be high

Offers a shoulder to cry on and happy to take time out of his schedule to listen to your worries

He asks you to teach him so he can make things like you

He wants to repay you for all the things you've given him

Solomon:

Has a whole room dedicated to everything you've ever made and given him

Whenever he has guests he likes to take them to check out your creations

"Come and admire my collection, My apprentice made these, aren't they neat?"

The potion sacks you've made are extremely useful

Aswell as the coldrain mat

Can sense your anxious energy in the newest creation's and gets concerned

He'll invite you over to talk about what's wrong

Let's you to take your time incase you're comfortable to talk

Simeon:

His favourite amongst the massive pile was a cute crotchet octopus

It was nicely stuffed and felt so nice to rest his head on

Others that peaked his fancy were the long wrist warmers you made, the way you made it made it look like lace

Aswell as a shawl and the very well made bag to store his books in

"You're so thoughtful, I'll treasure them all."

But he noticed just how worked up you've been and knew your anxious habits

Sat you down for tea to ask what how you're feeling and if could help

Also offers to be a guardian angel and make sure you don't get so anxious

If he can he'll wear an entire outfit made out of your knitting

Luke:

Is in awe how much you gave him

Almost died with Happiest when you knitted him a new hat

The crotchet wings you made just made him bounce with joy

He loves everything!!!

"I'm going to wear everything you've made and carry the little crochet puppy with me everywhere! I promise I'll take good care of him!"

Though will always check in on you

Once he's learned you do it more or only when you're really anxious he'll want to do everything he can to help

Has looked up guides on how to help people with their anxiety and panic attacks

He's going to be your guardian angel!

[yourmcu]

Mesmerized (ii)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Request:

@lostaurorax​ said:

hii!! i love ur writing i was wondering if u could write a natasha x reader fic were reader is part of the guardians of the galaxy and they come to the compound and natasha is just starstruck but reader plays kinda hard to get and then just a bunch of fluff !

Word count: 2,551

A/n: basically a day out with Natasha. you like having her around. she likes having you around. Part 2/? (more notes at the end of the fic!)

Warnings: mostly fluff, but ending’s pretty angsty (help), some thor fluff in the beginning, jealous!nat if you squint

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

gif not mine!! credits to the owner^^

After Natasha left your room she immediately goes straight to hers. She barely falls asleep.

She stares at the ceiling, absorbed in her own thoughts. She tries to shake away the heat rushing to her face whenever the moment you kissed her on the cheek replays on her mind. All it took is someone like you to get one of the toughest people in the compound turn into mush.

She never believes in the ‘love at first sight’ bullshit because, well, it is bullshit. It’s impossible to love someone you just met. But who knows, right? You might just be an exception.

No, Natasha frowns. I just like her... a lot. It’s different.

The next morning, her run consists of her planning out the date day with you, where she’d take you first and stuff. She stops by the front gate of the compound, suddenly worrying. She wants to impress you. But what if you don’t like what she had in store? What if you think she's boring?

You're the type of person that almost likes everything and you’d express it kindly if you don’t. Boring you should be the last thing on Natasha’s mind.

Natasha walks into the kitchen to hydrate herself but halts once she saw the mess you and Thor had all over the counters.

“Wait, hold on- no, that’s - oh god, Thor, that’s too much batter!” You smack him on the arm and laugh, tilting your head a bit to figure out how you’d get the large pancake out of the pan.

“Oops,” Thor says sheepishly, turning around to put the bowl back on the counter, noticing Natasha’s confusion. “Oh don’t worry, Natasha, we’ll clean up after we’re done.”

The mention of the redhead makes you turn as well. “Good morning, Nat.” You beam. Normally, Natasha would sent a glare to anyone who calls her that, someone who isn’t a close friend, but with you... instead of a glare her eyes light  up. Giving you a small smile, she greets you back.

“I thought you were going out?” She questions, passing by you to reach the fridge.

“We were, but IHOP’s closed, under maintenance they said,” Thor sighs and you hum in response. “It’s quite alright. I heard you guys are going out anyway-”

Natasha lowers the water bottle from her lips, staring at him. “You heard?”

You spin around to clean up after turning off the stove. ‘I didn’t tell him anything,’ you mouth to her, which makes her think Steve somehow knows of it already.

Thor lets out a laugh, grabbing the whole pan and twiddling his fork, “you two have fun.” He winks and walks out of the room.

-----

“They were so cute,” you look back at the newly engaged couple near the window of the restaurant. “And really, you didn’t have to pay. I can pay you back.”

Later that afternoon the both of you headed out. Natasha parked her car somewhere and since it was a nice day, not too hot or anything, you both strolled around the city to find a place to have brunch.

“Y/N, it’s fine. I’m the one who asked you out.” Natasha chuckles, remembering the way you pouted in there begging her to let you pay at least for your own food.

You huff, smiling. “Fine. But I’m getting you back.”

So far you were having a good time with her. You got to know each other more, she told you stories about some of the team’s missions from other countries which were relatively rare, her first encounters with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, and in return you told her some about your out-of-this-world missions with the guardians.

And no you didn’t tell her about the history of moon rocks or some shit, nor did you promise to bring her back some. Who even collects those nowadays? Natasha was more interested about your early life, on Earth, which you were thankful for. You were taken away from your father (the only parent you preferred and loved) who was pure human one day by your alien-freak of a mother which you inherited your fire powers from.

You don’t like talking about it. But with her you're surprisingly comfortable.

Natasha smirks. “So we’re going out again sometime?”

“Of course we are.” After two seconds of pure confidence you wish you didn’t say that out loud. “Well, you know, I won’t force you to something you don’t want it’s - it’s your call.”

You're in the middle of telling her about your favorite bar and diner, the one your father always takes you as a child and you even paid a visit there the last time you were on Earth.

“Huh. Isn’t that the one that just closed?” She recalls

“No, really?” You drag out the ‘no’, sighing. “They’re the best. They make their own iced tea and beer and stuff... and - oh!”

You feel something rub against your ankle: a fluffy dog who's looking up at you with its tongue out and its tail was wagging wildly. Natasha raises her eyebrows, her eyes trailing to the abandoned leash behind it.

“Hey there,” you kneel down to pet it with caution just incase its intention is to bite you. But it seems to be happy and tame. “Look, Nat, s’adorable.” Natasha chuckles briefly and starts looking around for a person who looks frantic and is finding, calling a dog. 

“This fella belongs to the animal center.” You caress the dog behind its ear while you read the information on its collar.

It isn’t that far, it seems like the dog just escaped as well because the guy running the center was unaware of its absence.

“Thanks!” Said guy smiles in appreciation, reaching out to take the leash out of your hand. Natasha’s mind is focused on how the guy looks at you for the first time. It's the exact same look she gave you that night. Mesmerized, as if it was love at first sight. She doesn’t miss how his hand brushes yours, completely intentional. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t returned him. The pups here just grew out of their mom’s milk and are very hyper. It’s a lot of work.”

You're completely oblivious to this, you’re just glad the dog is back to where he belongs.

“No problem, he’s very sweet.” You smile politely. “Are they up for adoption? It would really help you out if they were, you know, and this one here is well behaved.”

At this point Natasha’s just eyeing the guy like he’d pounce on you any minute now. He’s definitely into you and she doesn’t like it.

“You’re welcome to stop by anytime,” he grins, ignoring your suggestion. “Can I have your number?”

“Oh, I don’t have a phone...” you trail off.

“That’s right, she doesn’t.” Natasha steps in and she catches the guy off guard and surprised that the Black Widow is actually with you the whole time. Natasha intertwines her hand with yours, pleased with his dumbfounded reaction. “We’ll be on our way now.”

You didn’t expect that but you weren’t complaining. Her hands were soft, and it brought this comforting feeling you couldn’t explain. But you clear your throat once the both of you are a few blocks away from the center.

“Sorry, he gave me an off vibe,” Natasha mutters and removes her hand from yours.

“Don’t be, I appreciate you looking out,” you smiles. Her car was getting into view now. “If it helps you sleep at night though, he wasn’t my type.” You joke.

Turns out you weren’t completely oblivious.

Natasha merely scoffs, getting in the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

After the dog incident you both drove around different parts of the city. You went to a different mall to stroll around, commenting on anything you both saw that would somehow lead to a stupid story that happened at some point in your lives.

A local artsy bookstore, not gonna lie Natasha liked reading a good book when she had the time. So did you. It was nice to know that she’s the type of person who liked reading. Quill always got annoyed with you whenever he saw you reading silently in the ship (but when was he not annoyed with you?). The only ones that was willing to try and read back in space were Mantis and Gamora, bless her soul.

“These are good,” you mutter to Natasha. “All my books are on the ship, I think, but if I get to them I’ll let you read my favorite one... if you want.”

Last stop of the day. Natasha claims it’s a surprise.

“I don’t do well with surprises,” you whine, holding back a smile. “Just tell me.”

“No. And besides, we’re already here.” Natasha chuckles.

Your eyes light up on how stunning the scenery was. An edge of the cliff and below is a beach that doesn’t look like it’s visited by people everyday. The beautiful sunset, the sky made up of purple, orange and almost pink magnifies the calmness of the waves crawling gently to the shore.

“I always come here whenever I need to,” she says silently and exhales, walking over to you. “It’s the perfect place to go whenever those idiots get on my nerves.” You laugh lightly at her reasoning.

Natasha pats a spot on the grass beside her. She holds her gaze on you as you sit down, sighing. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” she manages to stop staring at you and look up at the sky instead. It's getting darker by the minute, the orange and pinkness started to fade as the sun went down, all of it replaced by light purple, darker shade of blue.

You're used to different colored skies. It would always vary and depend on what planet you were on, plus you always see those stars shimmering up above, so your focus is on the water and the waves. The way they move calms you.

“Thank you for today,” you murmur. “I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t expect any of this happening.”

Natasha hums. “I hope I wasn’t too boring.”

“Of course not, I think you’re very interesting and you’re fun to be with.” You say genuinely.

Once the sun is fully down and the moon had taken over the sky, the both of you get up to head back to the compound. “Eating out here would’ve been nice but Steve’s in charge with dinner, he wouldn’t be too happy if he knew we already ate.” The car ride back is silent, but the good kind. A content, comfortable one.

Okay so, your stay took more than a few weeks. 

You grew close with the amazing group of people, plus your good relationship with Natasha just kept growing and... just got better.

Thor stayed too because he didn’t have a choice, but he didn’t mind. Rocket left one pod for both of you to use that’ll send you to wherever Quill’s ship was up there. 

You and Natasha went out when you had the chance, taking turns treating each other to stuff. You learned that Thor included your books when he packed you a bag, and now Natasha was borrowing one of them.

Sometimes you’d join them on missions. You did a great job every time, not wanting to be a burden to a team you weren’t officially in. Sometimes you’d join Steve into a sparring session at the compound’s gym.

Speaking of which, he’s treating both you and Natasha as if you’re dating.

“Would you look at that, your girl managed to give me a bruise. She’s a keeper.” Steve tells Natasha.

“You totally deserve that.”

You also started sparring with Natasha. And Tony caught on with the whole ‘dating’ thing from Steve.

“Oooh, am I interrupting something here?” Tony smirks. He's going back and forth visiting the compound and coming home to his wife and daughter at their cabin. It's working out though. “I think the mat’s unsanitary. Take this to the bedroom.”

“Oh shut up, Y/N was just working on her tackling.” Natasha grunts, leaving you sprawled  on the mat, exhausted. “It’s getting sloppy. We’ll go again in a minute.”

-----

“Y/N,” The devastating tone of Natasha’s voice makes you look up. “Quill’s calling. He’s looking for you.”

“What?” She doesn’t answer but instead motions you to follow. In her office is a hologram of your fellow half-human and he looks distraught.

You step in front of the hologram so he can see you. 

“What happened to a few weeks, L/N? It’s been almost three months!” Quill says. “Look, come back, bring Thor with you. Our distress signal goes off almost every day and we can’t keep doing this without both of you.”

“Alright, how much time do I have before you lose your cool?” You reply sarcastically, but you're also worried and didn’t want to leave. You know better than to argue with the guy.

Natasha doesn’t want you to leave so suddenly. There’s limited communication between you and her once you go back up there. She grew attached to you.

Quill gives you an obvious look. “As soon as possible! Just - just get back here, please?” Then he abruptly ends the call.

You roll your eyes and left the room to pack, barely noticing Natasha hunched over, visibly sad and anxious that you’re leaving.

She loves you, and now you’re leaving without that knowledge.

You told Thor about it when he passed by the open door of your room. He didn’t look thrilled to be leaving so suddenly. After packing everything up (on his part it wasn’t that much) he offered to carry your bag for you as you said your farewells.

“Sorry guys, duty calls,” you sigh, hugging everyone. “Seeing as Tony’s not here just tell him I’ll miss him or something.”

“Will you come visit soon?” Wanda asks as she pulls away from your hug.

“Definitely.” You turn your head when Steve nudges you, nodding his head to the direction where Natasha is shifting, pacing, avoiding any eye contact.

You walk over to her. She tries holding back tears as you did. She grew attached to you and now you’re leaving. “Hey Nat,” you cup her face, trying to get her to look at you. “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna leave either, not right now, but-”

Natasha kisses you, pulling you close to her as much as possible. Tears fully streaming down her face. She’s never felt this way before, about anybody, for a long time.

But let’s face it, you both know you loved each other. Maybe the both of you just knew that if you got together, it’ll be extremely hard for your relationship once you left. The long distance relationship thing. Even if you aren’t, it's already too painful for Natasha, like she's caught off guard or something. None of you knew that today's your last night on Earth.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Natasha whispers after pulling away.

You smile sympathetically, wiping her tears away with your thumb. “You know I’ll come back, right, pretty girl?” Natasha exhales shakily and pulls you into a hug.

“You better.”

----

I found a song for this fic-series whatever, please I’m so proud of myself the song reminds me of this story

I’M ANNOYED THAT I HAVEN’T PUT IN MUCH ABOUT THE READER’S FIRE ABILITIES IN THIS ONE BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY ANYWAY (they’re on a date she wouldn’t need it for anything)

[karlheisenberganyone]

This is my first post so I’m sorry if it’s bad lmao but yeaaa, this is kinda my first smut post ya knowww- but yea if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also I’m only doing this cause I’m bored asfffff 😫😫 also I might only post smut cause that’s what I’m best at cause I’m one hörny bish lmfao. So yea no one under 18 read I guess.

SMUT UNDER THIS PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Karl Heisenberg x female reader smut 18+

“Only for a bit”

Warning: cursing , kinkyyy, getting tied up, choking, pet calling (sweetheart, kitten) you also using names like sir. Just sexy stuff 😩

Enjoy <3

You were one of the 4 daughters of Lady Dimitrescu. You, Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra were treated very well, with rich delicious wine and goods. You were different from them though. All 4 of them were vampires, but you, you are an ordinary human being. Instead of eating human meat and drinking human blood, you ate normal animal meat and drank fine wine or water. It wasn’t difficult living with this family, you actually really enjoyed it. You had a wonderful mother and wonderful sisters. You felt loved and accepted in their family. You have lived with the Dimitrescu’s since a very younge age. You were brought into the family by Mother Miranda, who apparently found you in the abounded village a few miles away.

Today there was also a very important meeting being held up, and mother insisted you came over to accompany her, which you happily accepted. You were now In your bedroom, getting ready, but stopped when you heard a knock. “Sister, mother told me to bring you this dress she got made especially for you” you heard Bella say behind the door. “Oh ok, thank you very much and tell mother I’m very grateful” you said opening the door and taking the box with the dress in it. “I will, also mother wants you ready in 20 minutes” Bella said disappearing into a swarm of flies. “Ok!” You said loudly but not too loud.

You opened the box to see a gorgeous emerald green dress, with a bunch of gold swirls on the front with green gems. You slowly and carefully put the dress on and then go style your hair. You weren’t really used to these long dresses, and looking very elegant. After 20 minutes, you walked down the stairs in your heels, slowly to not fall over and make a scene of yourself. “You look absolutely stunning, as always dear” you heard your mother call out to you. “Thank you mother, and I’m very grateful for this dress. Bella told me it was specifically made for me” you tell your mother with a soft smile. “Only the best for my sweet beautiful daughter’s” your mother replied back with a soft smile. “So are you ready dear?” Your mother asked turning to look at you. “Yes mother” you said, taking your coat off the hanger and same with mother.

It was early autumn, and it was getting a tiny bit chilly. You walked down the paths, walking past many trees turning all different colours to show it was autumn. It truly was a gorgeous sight to see. After a few minutes of walking, you get to your destination. Mother opens the front door to find Donna sitting peacefully, greeting you and mother, while her doll running around laughing maniacally. Moreau was quietly lighting the candles to bring a bit of light inside. And Heisenberg no where to be seen yet. After all you were 30 minutes early. Mother sat down in her regular spot, talking to Donna about how she has been and catching up. You, you went to talk to Moreau about how well he has been. After 10 minutes of sitting down and talking to Moreau about video games he has, the door was harshly opened by a heavy boot, belonging to no other than Heisenberg. Everyone brings their attention towards the man himself, looking at his toothy white smile, greeting everyone by tilting his hat a bit and walking towards his seat. “So the dog decided to come over” mother started. “Oh shut up you bitch, I always come here for meetings, usually a bit late, but today is different!” Heisenberg said glaring at her through his glasses, and then looking at you, you looking back at him with an angry expression. “What are you frowning at kitten?” He asked you. “I do not like it when someone calls my mother in appropriate names” you said with a harsh and calm tone. “But your “dear mother” has called me a dog so I have full right to call her a bitch” he said putting his hands over he chair, and crossing his legs. “Not like she isn’t right” you mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear you, and your mother laughing quietly.

“You wanna fight or something kitten?” He asked you leaning forward now. “No, I just don’t like my mother being called harsh words that aren’t true” you said glaring at him. But when he was about to argue, Mother Miranda has arrived, leaving Heisenberg to close his mouth and groan loud enough for you to look at him.

After about an hour or so, the meeting ended. “Y/n, dear, please do me a favour and walk home. I must talk to Mother Miranda about something very important, and I won’t be coming home any time soon” mother said. You give her a reassuring smile and a nod, putting on your coat. You weren’t scared of walking home, because you knew how to fight. You could kill and fight with no problem, after all you do live with vampires. You walked out the door, and first thing you smell is the strong smell of cigar and whiskey, telling you Heisenberg was right there, and you were right. You turned your head towards him watching him smoking his cigar with a “really, here?” look. You shake your head a bit and start walking home, but before you could go you heard him talk. “I didn’t let you go anywhere kitten did I?” He asked you, you turning around to look at him. You took a deep breath and said “no.1 I ain’t no kitten so stop with that kitten shit, and 2nd of all you ain’t my parent so I can do what I want” you said with a little smile and started walking off home.

But Heisenberg didn’t give up easily. He started following you. You turn around rapidly. “What do you want?” You asked. Heisenberg just watched you. You could feel him eye you up and down even with those glasses on. You sighed out loud and started walking again, not caring that he was right behind you anymore. “You know what kitten, come with me to my factory, I wanna show u something” he said suddenly. You turned around once again and looked at him. “Why would I go to your factory?” He sighed “Come on pet, do ya have anything betta to do? No, so come over to mine. At least I’ll have some company”. The thought of you and Heisenberg being together alone made you kind of excited. You liked this man for a bit and loved teasing and annoying him, and he loved doing the same thing.

“Fine, but only for a bit” you said, letting him go in front and lead the way. It was a small walk and you got there real quick. “So here we are, my dear factory” he said showing off his mechanical creation’s. After giving you a walk through the factory, you asked why he invited you over. “Well I had a few questions” he answered, and now ur curiosity wanted to know what he had to ask. “You look curious kitten, would ya like to know?” He asked which you responded with a nod. “Well kitten, why did you chose to listen to me and come over?” Was his question first. “I dunno, I was bored so yea” you responded. “2nd question, what’s your type?” You looked at him with a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know that?” You asked. “You really wanna know kitten?” He asked lowering his voice a bit, which makes you shiver in pleasure. “I would like to know, but is it worth it?” You asked. “Well you will have to wait and see” he said. “Come over here” he said taking his glasses off and hat, and you obeying him and come near him. You could see the lust and need in his eyes making you feel warm and tingly.

“I would like to know why you want to know my type, Heisenberg” you said getting closer to him. “You really wanna know dear?” Seeing the lust in his eyes. “Yes I do” you said, a teasing look on your face. “Cause I wanna see if I’m of any of your standards dear. I wanna see if I can claim you as mine” he said coming closer to your ear, whispering in a deep raspy voice, which made you feel wetness come over. “And what would you do to me if you were of my standards and could claim me as yours?” You asked, teasingly wanting to know his answer. “Oh I’d do a lot to you kitten~” he purred into your ear. “Could you tell me what exactly?” You asked. “Right now, I’d like to rail you right here right now, make you scream my name until you can’t speak no more, listen to your moans like some music, fuck you so hard you start shaking, tie you up and make sure you can’t fuckin escape and make you endure the pleasure” he said making him squirm under him, making you feel like a hot mess, with only words. “Can I touch you?” He asked. You nod, immediately, begging for some friction. He slowly put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him, and then taking your chin in one of his hands, and giving you a fast kiss, which soon turned into a heated make out session, his hands travelling around your body, while yours on his shoulders. Picking you up, he places you on the table behind him, throwing everything on the table onto the ground, placing you on top of it not stopping the kiss.

He soon started taking your dress off, unzipping it from the back, slowly to not make no damage. The kiss getting hotter and more heated, tasting the mix between cigar and whiskey, making your knees weak. After taking off the dress, he starts trailing kisses and bites down your jaw and kneck down to your exposed chest. He looked at you with a questionable look, and you gave him a quick nod to show him it was ok. After pleasuring you with your tits, and not getting a lot of moans out of you, it didn’t satisfy Heisenberg.

He laid you down onto your back and took of your panties. He gave you another look, and you nod. He slowly looks at you panties. “I haven’t even touched you that much, but look how fuckin wet you are kitten! And because of me and only for me” he said spreading your lips. He lowered himself biting at your thighs earning a few needy moans. It took him ages to finally give you a bit of pleasure by spreading your lips, and him finally using his mouth and tounge finally licking your clit, making your back arch and moan his name. That made Heisenberg go faster and add more pressure, which made you a moaning hot mess, for him and only him. “You taste fuckin delicious kitten” he said in pants. He then brought his 2 fingers, and slipped them inside you, curling them, making you feel more pleasure. When you felt your orgasm coming, Heisenberg stop what he was doing making you whine . “Come on, Heisenberg, I wanna cum so badly, please lemme cum” you moaned. “But kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He said taking his shirt off, boots and then undoing his belt.

When he undid his belt, and unzipped his pants, you could see his hard erection, making you wetter. “Enjoying the view princess?” He asked while taking his dick out. You just gave him a needy look and that gave him the hint to put it in. But before that you saw metal scraps flying past him taking your hands and pinning them at the top of your head on the table, making you unable to move your hands. This distracted you, so you didn’t notice Karl moving forward getting in place to rail you. He pushed in, which made you wince in pain letting him enter you bit by bit. You didn’t notice how big he was, feeling him fill you to the brim. “Is that all you can take kitten? Well fuck you still have a bit to go. You are so tight for me baby” he said moaning breathily.

“I cant take anymore Heisenberg, it’s too much” you moaned your legs trembling. “I’ll make you take all of it” he said pushing the rest of his length deep inside, making you arch your back in pleasure, making you gasp hard. He let you adjust to his size for a few minutes until he started moving his hips. At first he went with a slow passionate pace, but seeing you arch your back moaning for more, he picked up speed and strength, taking his dick nearly out, and slamming back in, making you gasp and moan. “Kitten, I want to hear you loud, don’t hide any of your sweet noises” he said breathlessly. You gave him a light nod before him slamming himself into you again, making you nearly scream his name out, him hitting every perfect spot.

He took one of your legs, onto his shoulder, making him go deeper into you, making you a moaning mess. He then took his glove off, by teeth and started rubbing your clit, building another orgasm inside you. “Already another orgasm pet? You have to beg for this one a lot harder sweetheart” he said rubbing your clit harder and slamming harder into you. “P-please sir please let me c-cum, I’ll do anything, please let me cum, please” you begged in between moans. “Tell me how good I make you feel” Heisenberg same slamming into you faster, watching your face curl into pleasure. “You make me feel so good sir, please haah your dick makes me feel so good sir, you are so good sir” you said with tears in the corner of your eyes.

“Good girl, so fuckin good for me and only me” slamming hard into you, your legs trembling nearing your orgasm. “Karl I’m about to-“ you slightly screamed, but Heisenberg stopped you by wrapping his hand around your neck, his other hand still rubbing your clit, making you cum hard on his dick, squeezing him, making him go harder, chasing his own orgasm moaning fuck and your so fuckin tight. And then he slammed one more time, spilling his seed deep inside you, filling you up. After that intense orgasm, Karl fell on top of you trying to support his weight with his hands on each side of your head. He let you go off the metal scraps, and you put one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. “Fuck, I should’ve done this sooner, don’t ya think?” He asked slightly laughing. “You should have, but better now than never” you said and with that he lowered down to give you a soft passionate kiss, making you melt right under him.

“You should go home kitten.. you can maybe stay a bit longer next time” he mumbled softly, not wanting to let you go, but also not wanting you to get in trouble and hurt. “I should” you said getting up, cleaning up and dressing up. He just put on his trousers and belt and watched you while lighting a cigar in his mouth. You were about to head out until Karl took your wrist and kissed you a goodbye kiss. “I’ll see you again kitten” he said with a grin letting you go and opening the door for you. “Next time then. Bye bye” you said and he just waved. What a crazy day you told yourself walking home aching but happy.

[yikesharringrove]

Hi! I love your blog and i check daily for updates because your fics/drabbles make my days! I wanted to request (if you're up to it) something with steve going deaf after the concussion in s2? Thank you so much! I hope you feel better soon and have a great day❤

So, I’ve broken my eardrums several times and that causes temporary hearing loss, so I based what Steve experiences on that as well as some stuff I read written by folks that lost their hearing.

I also wanna rec this fic, which has a similar idea, but Steve begins the story hard of hearing, so I tried to make them different!

Read on Ao3

-

Billy doesn’t know what happened when the kids drugged him and left him there.

All he knows is that he was startled awake by the sounds of Maxine driving his own car and the kids fucking screaming.

Something about Harrington being bitten?

And they dragged Steve out of his car, and he was bloody, and unconscious, and had a big gash in the back of his head.

Billy helped them bring him to the couch, using Steve’s jacket to pillow his head, trying to staunch the bleeding from the wound there.

“Why the fuck didn’t you take him to the hospital?”

Everyone was quiet as Steve groaned, shifting slightly.

His eyes fluttered open.

They were hazy and unfocused, looking slowly around the room.

“Hey, buddy. How are ya feeling?” Steve stared blankly at Dustin.

“I, what?”

Steve felt like he was underwater.

The world was moving too slowly around him, everything was hazy and muffled and he didn’t know which way was up, which part of his body hurt more.

He barely remembers being in those tunnels, the ‘dogs rushing them, getting tossed against the cave wall.

And then, nothing.

Nothing but blue eyes and rough hands.

And Dustin asked him something, but he was too far away, or maybe he was being quiet for once in his life, but Steve just heard ay-u are-a ee.

And then Billy said something, and Steve could pick up osital before Billy was picking him up like he weighed nothing and putting him back in that car.

And Steve could sort of make out the sound of the engine through his underwater brain.

But it didn’t sound anything like it did that first day when Billy roared into the high school parking lot, didn’t even sound like when Max was driving earlier.

And Billy fucking knew something was wrong.

Every time he spoke, Steve didn’t acknowledge him. And he would chalk it up to Steve just fucking hating him, but he figured he’d get some kind of response, even if it was just a glare.

He took him to the emergency room, helping him out of the car.

“My friend hit his head. He’s bleeding and he’s really spaced out.”

-

Steve let the nurses and the doctors examine him.

He felt like he was only going deeper under water.

“I’m sorry, I can’t, I can’t hear you.”

He couldn’t even hear his own voice.

The nurse’s smile slid right off her face.

And then there was another doctor, and he was wheeled into a new room, and had to lay very still in a large cream colored tube.

-

“Harrington?”

Billy hadn’t been allowed to accompany Steve back. No familial relation, and all that.

But he was getting regular updates as they performed new tests.

Last he heard, Steve was being taken for a scan, which Billy didn’t like the sound of.

“Our imaging has presented us with the cause of his loss of hearing. It appears that-”

“Sorry, loss of hearing?” And it made sense, it really did, but it also sent a fucking chill down Billy’s spine. Moreso than the unexplained animal bite that was oozing blood and puss from Steve’s leg.

“Yes, it appears Mr. Harrington has suffered a severe enough concussion we have classified it as a traumatic brain injury. Due to the location of the blow, his auditory processing has been affected. We believe he has lost approximately 90% of his hearing.”

“But this is like, just temporary, right? He’ll be fine?”

“It’s rare to lose hearing due to damage to the brainstem, so unfortunately, we don’t know.”

“You don’t, you don’t know? He could be fucking deaf forever, and you don’t know?” She gave him an unimpressed look, stared him down until he deflated, mumbled a sorry.

“Look, his injury is uncommon, not unprecedented. We hope for a full recovery, but at this point, it’s unlikely.” She gave him a half smile as he thanked her, and turned on her heel.

-

They gave Steve a notepad.

He didn’t like talking.

Felt like he sounded stupid.

Couldn’t hear himself to know otherwise.

And of course, he didn’t know sign language. Never had put much thought into learning it.

The nurses would give him pitying smiles, would write down their questions for him. They mostly kept to yes or no’s, allowing him to nod or shake his head.

Does it still hurt? Has your hearing improved? Do you need more pain killers?

He slept through the rest of the night, but he chalks that up to the morphine they pumped him with, the adrenaline draining from his body.

The next morning he woke up to a sweet looking nurse, writing him a note that he had visitors, and he was welcome to tell them no.

He sighed, and nodded, giving a vague come in gesture.

It was Joyce and Hop.

And Steve realized he was relieved the kids weren’t there.

Joyce scribbled something on his pad.

They told us everything. I’m so sorry, Honey.

And Steve stared crying. Started sobbing, because Joyce’s hugs were warm but her soft voice was gone.

-

Billy had never left the emergency room.

He had curled in one of the uncomfortable chairs, and dozed off until morning, when the Police Chief rolled in with the gaggle of kids and a short woman that gave him a shockingly tight hug, and thanked him for taking care of Steve.

“He’s deaf.” Billy’s throat felt raw. “They told me last night. Scanned his brain and the injury was real bad. They don’t know if he’ll ever hear again.”

“But they, there’s nothing they can do?” Dustin was pale.

“Not really. They said, it’s rare for how he was injured to result in hearing loss, so they just don’t know.”

The chief took that woman back to see Steve, told the kids they didn’t know if he was up for visitors just yet.

Dustin had an odd look on his face.

He set his jaw, rolled his shoulders back, planted himself in front of Billy.

“Take me to the library.” Billy raised an eyebrow.

“Not a chance.”

“Take me to the library.”

“Kid, no.”

“Yes! I need to do research! If I learn sign language, I can help Steve so we can communicate!” Lucas stood behind him.

“Take us to the library.” When Maxine stood as well, Billy sighed.

“Fine. Get in the car.”

-

Apparently Nancy and Jonathan broke into his house.

Nancy still remembered where he kept the spare key.

She had an odd look on her face as she passed Steve some sweats, a clean shirt. Jonathan scribbled a note and gestured to the bag he placed on one of the chairs.

We brought more clothes, didn’t know how long you’re staying.

He didn’t know either.

He told them thanks. One word was easy enough, and he’s pretty sure he saw Nancy’s eyes go a little teary at the sound of his voice.

-

Billy ushered the kids into the building, going over to chat with the librarian.

He had spent a decent amount of time here since moving to Hawkins. They had a decent selection, and plenty of the classics he liked to read.

He was too tired to flirt, but kept polite conversation as the kids rushed around.

“We need all the books you have on American Sign Language, deafness, and anything else on the subject.” She gave Dustin a pointed look.

“Mr. Henderson, you have five books checked out, as well as five you stole-”

“I’ll bring those back. This is urgent.” Billy put on his best tragic look.

“Marissa, the kid’s best friend has a, well he’s just gone deaf. Had a terrible accident. They just wanna be there for him, you know?” She looked at him. Her resolve was slipping. “You know, use my card for ‘em. You know I’m reliable.”

He checked out very few books, opted to read them in the library instead.

She sighed.

“I’ll show you what we’ve got.” And she grumbled all the way to the stack.

-

Steve was staring out the window when he received a note about more visitors.

He knew he’d have to face the kids at some point, he was just hoping to put it off.

He smiled as warmly as he could when they came in, his eyes going wide when Billy trailed in behind them.

He looked like shit.

Dustin scribbled something on the notepad.

Billy took us to the library and we got books on sign language and we’re all going to learn together so that we can all still communicate.

He wrote like he talked, run on sentences with rushed, sloppy, handwriting.

Everyone was staring at him weird, and he realized he had laughed. He took notepad scribbling on it quickly.

Thank you guys. Means a lot. Dustin smiled at him, nodding. He cast a glance over to Billy, leaning against the wall, staring out the window. Dustin took the pad.

He hasn’t left since he brought you here he slept out in the waiting room and took us to the library to get all the books AND let us check them out on his library card.

Steve nodded, clearing his throat. Billy’s jaw tightened at the sound.

“Billy.” His head whipped around, his eyes wide at Steve’s voice. Not too loud. He held up what Dustin had written down. “Thank you.” Billy just nodded at him.

-

The kids were picked up one by one, giving Steve tight hugs before they left.

Until it was Max asleep in a chair, Billy sitting in the other.

Steve watched as Billy took off his jacket, draping it over Max like a blanket.

He gave Steve a tight smile. Steve picked up the pad.

Why have you stayed? You didn’t have to.

Billy shrugged. Worried about you.

Steve flushed.

I’m okay.

Billy gave him a look.

Well, I will be. Billy gave him a little half smile. You really took them to the library?

The little mouthy one bullied me into it.

Steve laughed. Billy tried to stifle his own smile.

Love the image of Dustin bullying you into doing something.

Yeah well, it was humiliating. Steve smiled at him again.

So, are you learning sign language too?

Just the important shit. Princess, Pretty Boy, pain in my ass. The three P’s. Steve laughed again.

Right. Important shit. Remind me to learn asshole and piece of trash.

Steve had never really taken much notice to the way Billy laughed. But now that he couldn’t hear it, he studied Billy’s face. His eyes scrunched up, and had his teeth always been that white, and that straight? His Adam’s apple bobbed when he laughed and Steve didn’t even think, reached out and pressed his fingers softly against his throat, his palm flat on his chest.

Billy went still. Steve recoiled.

Sorry. Wanted to see if I could feel your laugh. Billy smiled sheepishly at him, taking his hand and bringing it back to his throat.

Steve could feel the vibrations in his throat, the way the air made his neck shift, his Adam’s apple moving.

He didn’t know what Billy was saying, just liked the way his lips moved, the way he could feel the words in his fingertips.

-

Steve’s face was soft as Billy spoke, his eyes big, his fingers soft against Billy’s throat.

“I guess I can say this now. Since you’re not ever gonna hear me say it, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I said to you, did to you. You just, you scare the shit outta me, Pretty Boy. I’m not, not allowed to feel this way about you. About, about any boy. Neil’s made that really fucking clear. But I saw you, and I wanted to be near you, to hear you laugh, be the, the cause of all your damn smiles, and I’ve made you laugh twice today. And that’s the best damn feelin’ in the world.”

Steve’s eyes flicked up to his face when he couldn’t feel words anymore, and those soft fingers retreated again.

Steve took the notepad.

Billy liked his handwriting.

I like the way it feels when you talk. He smiled all bright and Steve Harrington pretty. Never thought about feeling someone speaking like that before. And then Billy’s heart sank. What did you say.

Talkin’ shit on you.

That’s rude. I’m a deaf person now. That’s bigamy.

I’m going to assume you meant bigotry. Steve flushed.

Yeah, whatever.  Steve was all huffy. It was adorable.

Sorry, I’ll only talk shit in sign once we all earn it.

Thank you. I appreciate it. Steve reached out, slapping playfully at Billy’s chest. Billy had the overwhelming urge to take his hand, kiss his knuckles.

He was too scared.

When do you get out of here? I got an idea.

-

Billy was there to pick him and take him home.

Steve had been in the hospital for over two weeks, as they wanted to monitor the injury.

He had completely lost his hearing, and had given up hope of it returning.

But Billy had been by everyday, usually bringing Dustin and some of the library books, and they had all mastered the sign language alphabet, and had all learned a few words.

Steve had a few bags of things people had brought to him, everything fitting nicely in the trunk of the Camaro.

Billy had offered to drive him own, wanted to see something.

He made a beeline to the quarry, finding a spot overlooking the water.

He took the pad from Steve’s lap, writing I have an idea, tell me when you can feel it.

He rifled through the cardboard box in the backseat, holding up the tape for Steve to see.

It was KISS, Dynasty.

Steve made a face.

Billy rolled his eyes, pushing the tape in. He turned up the bass, cranking the volume.

The first song, I Was Made For Lovin’ You, had one of Billy’s favorite bass lines ever.

He turned up the bass some more, until his speakers sounded like shit, the song completely distorted.

But Steve’s eyes were wide, his hand on his chest. Billy stole the pad.

At concerts, sometimes you can feel the bass in your body. I thought that might work for you. Can still listen to music. I got a lot of bass heavy stuff.

Steve’s bottom lip trembled.

He sniffed, wiping at his eyes.

Billy doesn’t know what he had done wrong, if maybe it was insensitive, this whole music thing.

He went to turn down the music, but Steve grabbed his wrist. He took the notepad.

Thank you, Billy. You’re really nice. Not listening to music anymore was really making me sad. This was a good idea.

Steve smiled at him, his eyes still wide and gooey wet.

Billy didn’t think about.

Just put one hand on the back of Steve’s neck, and pulled him forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Steve was stiff against him, and Billy was about to pull back, scribble an apology on the pad, put then Steve sighed, and melted against Billy.

They pulled away from one another, and Steve was biting his lip, made Billy kiss him again.

Been wanting to do that for a while. Billy had tossed the pad onto his lap. Steve scoffed at it.

Why didn’t you?

Too scared. Steve just looked at him. The song clicked to the next, the steady kick drum of 2,000 Man made Steve’s hand flutter back to his chest. You like this one?

This album is good. Now that I can’t actually hear it. Billy shoved him. Steve huffed a little laugh.

Dick.

[trvelyans-archive]

i am on my hands and knees begging for u to tell me about lila and margot 🙏

jasmine.............. thank you for this gift

under the cut because i expect it’ll get very long <3 :) update after i finished writing: it is, in fact, very long and also took me over an hour. so. take that as whatever sort of warning you might want.

let’s start with margot !

she was born to a couple of really young parents who..... did not want to be parents. at all. they were still in the party-and-get-drunk phase of their life and didn’t want to have a kid to worry about, so a large part of her childhood was spent couch surfing between relatives, mostly her grandfather.

they were really close! he would help her with her homework, they would cook together, he would let her drink underage so that she was well-versed in beer by the time she was like. idk. 16 lol. but she felt closer to him than her own parents, who were good when they were around but. they mostly weren’t around <3

when she was 19, her grandpa starting showing pretty serious signs of memory loss and whatnot and eventually had to be moved into a home. she was living with him by that point, so she had to continue to spend a year or so of her adult life couchsurfing. it didn’t help that she was in school full-time to get an engineering degree of. some kind. i think mechanical engineering. idk. and didn’t have a job, so to pay back her roommates she took up a majority of the housework as well as picked up odd jobs on the weekend. her grandpa’s health continued to decline through this time so she didn’t actually mind being busy because then she. didn’t have to think about it at all <3

and then.............. when she was 20......... her boyfriend of a year  suggested that she not only move in with him but that they get married and margot, who has never had stability ever in her life, jumped at the opportunity !

after she graduated, she found it incredibly hard to find a career (even though they were in the same program and He had no trouble finding one), so she was back to not working but her husband didn’t mind and he supported her whole-heartedly. during this time she started running and then eventually started going to a gym with a couple of her female friends from their neighbourhood! she would also spend a lot of time at her grandpa’s but his health was still rapidly declining. eventually her now-husband said that she should probably stop visiting him and margot was like “.... ok i guess”

And then. :)

she kept spending time outside of the house and started taking self-defense classes with a few of her friends and her husband was started to get very antsy. he wanted her to be at home, told her that he didn’t like her going out at night or, eventually, at all, and would find ways to keep her home every night so she didn’t go out. during this time he also started getting. um. very manipulative. he was easily triggered into starting arguments. so she increased the frequency of her self-defense classes and, eventually, they became Very Useful in an argument with her husband. so. we hate him :)

after that she filed for a divorce, moved away and changed her name to her late grandmother’s last name. she started working at a gym in her new town and eventually decided to open her own ! she had gotten the building about 2-3 weeks before the outbreak hit and didn’t have any furniture or equipment of any kind, so she met up with 2 middle-aged women from her old gym and they travelled together until one of them was bitten in a fight with walkers and dragged into a big crowd of them to be eaten and the other one was bitten and margot had to shoot her when she got zombified and tried to attack. :(

that’s where i have left off for now but i am going to develop her More the more i watch the show !!!

okay. backstory over. now for the fun bits:

her faceclaim is mackenzie davis specifically in terminator (without the. lines on her arms and whatever idk what those are) and this picture is the most margot-vibe imaginable.

the haircut was an incredibly recent choice but it came in handy during the outbreak because she didn’t have to worry about keeping hair out of her face. girlboss !

she is 6′2 :) her and her husband were funnily enough the 2 tallest people in her graduating class

she spoke occasionally to her parents after graduating and moving away but they fell out of touch a year or so before the outbreak began and she......................... unsurprisingly doesn’t miss them at all

she has 1 keepsake and it’s an old keychain of her grandpa’s and if anything happens to it. she will kill everyone in any room and Then herself !!!

she likes to where tank tops to show off her big arms. is this very ergonomical in the apocalypse where zombie bites can kill you instantly ? nope! will she do it anyway to intimidate people ? yup!

she Cannot cook. at all. she lived off of take-out and microwavable meals for the first 20 years of her life and then she always had someone else making food for her until she moved away on her own when it was back to takeout.

on the topic of food :) her fave foods are mac and cheese with breadcrumbs and meatlover’s pizza !

she will do literally anything for a good beer. anything. she keeps an eye out for them every time she goes scavenging in buildings and will try to get at least 1 bottle per trip. girlboss !

she cannot sing. in fact she’s not just average, she’s Terrible. she can, however, play mad guitar because her grandpa taught her.

now onto miss lila :)

she was born in a town a couple over from rick’s and was the younger sister of 2 ! she had a really great family and a very very happy childhood :) her dad was a wildlife rehabilitator and her mom was a landscaper who took a lot of pride in their nice big backyard and garden and Land where they. you know. rehabiliated the wildlife and what not

she worked a lot with her dad and mom at their wildlife centre and also helped her mom garden a lot (their house was on the same property as the centre so it was a nice big plot of land). she took a lot of interest in rehabilitating animals and it sparked a very early childhood interest in Caring for things (namely little wild critters) which extended to her helping out little kids on the playground when they got scraped knees and things. she always had a package of bandaids in her backpack from second grade on. an angel <3

in her final year of high school she had a very quick fling with a boy from her high school that ended… poorly. and then she got pregnant! which she. Did not expect. nor want. nor need in her life because she was planning on moving to atlanta to go to medical school and kickstart her career. her sister, who had recently dropped out of school and lost her job, decided to Take One for the team and claim the baby as hers so lila could go to medical school and stuff. their parents promised to take good care of her and they all made a plan to hide lila’s pregnancy from their town (although i’m sure literally everyone knows anyway) and then she moved away in the summer after giving birth to go to school

she quickly finished up her nursing program but was out of job for a few years until she got a job offer to be the nurse at king county elementary school aka the school were one Carl Grimes goes to school. she moved there in may and one night, when her car Squealed to a stop in front of a dog who had run away from his home and was being chased by. Um. a certain sheriff’s deputy who was intending on bringing the puppy back home <3 they got to talking and. Well. the rest is history…..

she was a very beloved member of the staff and kids would often fake sick just to come to her office and get a sucker and she grew esp close to the grimes family :D after a couple of years living in king county she got a job to start working at some fancy prep school in atlanta and decided that actually she might want to. You know. start being a mom now that she was finished with school and had a career. so she moved away from king county at the end of the next school year and was unfortunately in atlanta when it was bombed by the government at the start of the outbreak so she and her daughter and sister all died :) and that’s that !

some fun facts because that was a very depressing end to her story:

she always has suckers in her office at school and her favourites are the watermelon ones.

she can often be found gardening in her backyard or watching the birds in the trees like a little nature baby !!!

she is very meticulous about planning. she Does have a daily agenda. she Will kill you if you touch it. shane likes to leave her little notes in it for her to find when she’s at school. sometimes they are not Just cute. she usually erases those.

she likes collecting ugly thrift store paintings of animals and hangs them up in her dining room and she Does think they are incredibly funny.

she is a vegetarian !!! very unwavering about it. shane finds it annoying because he’s good at cooking steak but she just has a salad and then they’re both perfectly happy <3

sends basically everyone she knows a Christmas/holiday card every year. even the teachers at the elementary school who don’t like her and or barely talk to her !!!

she is a terrible maker of tea and usually forgets about cups before she’s even halfway through them (thank god for her). makes everyone tea when they come over except shane (stupid ass) because he doesn’t like it and usually people just politely swallow it even though it’s too steeped or. sorry idk how tea works. she just Makes It Bad ok

she perpetually forgets to do laundry. Most of her non-scrubs have dirt stains or dressing stains or whatnot (except for her Really nice clothes) which is why she tries to buy a lot of patterns. makes things easier to hide <3

and that’s it for now !!! i have so much other lore for them but i will stop here for now :) thank you very much if you read this also i’m very sorry i have twd brainworms i cannot help it. anyway ok that’s it thanks love you bye

[blackvelvetwriteson]

𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

                                                     (  ~ Inasa Yoarashi x Gender Neutral                                                             Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Fluffy Fluff!                                                                  

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: There really are none today! Just a fluffy (almost) holiday story!

SUMMARY: Inasa and Reader-Chan spend a nice night at home together after Pro Hero Gale Force makes it back home from work early.

WORD COUNT: 4349

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

It was a beautiful thing to be apart of; a small loving family with one of the lesser known pro heroes Inasa. He always seemed so jovial and excited, all of the kids he came across day to day seemed to LOVE him. He was personable as well as an efficient hero and every single day he came home to YOU, the love of his life, excited and animated. Since he was so much bigger than you, he always had no problem with scooping you up into his strong arms while nuzzling into you, blaring his excited words into your ear.

     “I’VE MISSED YOU SO DAMN MUCH TODAY! I DON’T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU,” he always greeted you while dusting millions of happy little kisses over your cheeks and forehead. You always hushed him, respectfully, and you let out your small laugh.

     “Remember inside voices Inasa,” you say quietly while running your fingers over his cheeks and giving him a soft, well deserved kiss.

The house was warm and cozy, the oven on, the fire in the fireplace crackling, the show on TV being used as white noise. The oven beeped and he perked up a little as he set you down, the little bit of snow that was over his body now melted leaving his clothes dampened.

“Relax, baby,” you say quietly as you check his temperature noting that he had a small sniffle. “It was just the oven. I didn’t expect you to be home so early… I was trying to surprise you with cookies and hot cocoa now that it’s cold outside… But you kinda foiled that,” you say with a small sort of disappointed chuckle, rubbing your arm and looking away. His eyes were wide and he cupped your face gently making you look at him. 

“Awh babe… Don’t beat yourself up about it! If I’d had know then- Uhm.. Well.. I guess that would’ve foiled it too now wouldn’t it,” he said as he gently booped your nose. “Don’t worry about it! I like helping whenever you’re baking anyways! Remember? You’re my little cookie… So… Or I mean it can change to cupcake…. I just want a nickname for you that’s just as cute as you. I can’t go disappointing now- not when I’m supposed to be your hero anyways!” He smiled and he looked into your eyes as you teared up a little. He gasped a little and scooped you right up again, sitting on the couch as he cuddled into you.

    “Don’t cry, please don’t cry… You’re okay! I-I’ll make it better! I’ll um… Go shopping and stuff and sort of kill time! It’ll be like I was never here so you can continue with your surprise!” He tried but it didn’t work. You buried your face in his chest and he practically swallowed you up in his hold. 

“I just wanted to do something nice for my hero,” you whisper softly as you cling to his shirt. He looks down and kisses your forehead gently. 

“Aww baby,” he said quietly like he usually did when he saw you like this. “Shhh… You always do nice things for me… Let me help you! I don’t mind helping out a little… Especially because, well, I love you and that’s what heroes are supposed to do right? Help?” 

      You sniffle and hum softly as you look up at him, your fingers gently tracing circles into his chest. “Yeah.. I guess… But just know that I’m GOING to surprise you sometime soon before you get your holiday time off!” You try and put up your protest but it only makes Inasa smile that handsome smile of his, small barely noticeable dimples cratering his cheeks as he gently took you by the chin and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. Immediately, your protest and pouts die down into soft whines against his pretty, soft lips. He pulls away slowly and gently licks your lip, his voice seemingly dropping a little though his tone was still airy and soft just for you.

     “Are you done, sweet thing?”

You couldn’t help but to nod and stare at him with doe-like eyes, wide and glassy and absolutely adorable to him. Sweet thing. That was his nickname for you.

“Good. Thank you. Now, we can both surprise each other as much as we want… I don’t mind. I don’t. But the best thing, for me at least, is coming home to see my adorable sweetheart laying on the couch, smiling at me when I come home from a long day of doing what I love. Or… I don’t know. Reading a book with my love… Or giving you a massage… Or watching a show with you while you read a book next to me. I don’t need all of your surprises and sweet tricks, okay? They’re really nice- truly! And I’m not asking you to stop. I could NEVER do that because I love surprising you too. Okay?” He gently brushed your hair back, his sweet smile thawing you out as you nod at him.

     “Y-Yeah… Yeah I understand… But, babe, before you help me with anything, you need to help me by going to change first,” you giggle as you slide out of his warm hold, a small shiver running down your back from the sudden unfamiliar warmth blanketing your body.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he laughed as he stood up and gently slapped your ass as he walked past, the heavy tapping of his boots sort of echoing as he made his way up the stairs. You yip quietly and grumble with a flushed face as you walk over to the kitchen, grabbing your apron and tying it, stretching a little before you looked at the recipe on your phone, collecting your ingredients to make cookies. You sift the flour and the sugar, humming to yourself, swaying your hips as you continue to add in all of the dry ingredients. 

Meanwhile Inasa came downstairs clad in black joggers and no shirt just watching you for the moment a look of pure adoration in his nebulous, beautifully dark eyes. “Don’t you just look amazing,” he breathed to himself as he came up behind you with a little bit of pep in his step. He hugged your waist with his strong arms and he gently kissed your neck, nibbling your shoulder a little as he watched you mix the ingredients. “What’re we making sweet thing,” he said softly into your ear.

“U-Um n-nothing m-much… J-Just um.. Some cookies, babe,” you said softly as you show him the recipe. 

“Butter cookies? Yes! They’re my favorite!” He squealed softly as he nuzzled into you before turning to the fridge grabbing out some butter. “But-ter missing a little something,” he said keeping a straight face as you stop your mixing to look at him. You giggle softly as you look at him standing there noticing that his hair grew a little. It was just enough to be noticeable. You shake your head and laugh quietly at his stupid joke while he snorted and tried not to break out into his own giggles. 

“You’re so dumb,” you say gently as you push him and he just pulls you in closer with his free hand, his hand on your ass giving it a nice squeeze before he glanced over at the recipe again. 

“I’d say something to combat that, but I mean I guess it’s the truth,” he said with a soft laugh before shrugging a little. “At least I’m a helpful hero, right?” He laughed and kissed your forehead gently.

“I didn’t mean it like tha-“ He shushed you by putting his finger over your lips. You kiss his finger and chuckle softly before going back to the dry ingredients. 

“I can get the wet ingredients done while you prepare the baking sheets okay? And I’ll start the water,” he grinned as he already started by putting the butter in the microwave to soften it a little. “What’s for dinner my sweet little thing?”

You blushed as you finally picked up on what his nickname was for you and you slowly walk over to the fridge. “It’s already made. I figured it was getting late and you’d want dinner as soon as you came home tonight with… A nice massage afterwards…” You blush a little and rub your arm as Inasa gazes out the window waving to the strangers that were walking their dog outside of your window. 

“See, you always know what to do babe,” he said with a small laugh as he focused and mixed all of the ingredients together, his eyebrows knit with determination, his eyes slanted a little as he focused, never having had a strength or passion for cooking or baking. “But…” He breathed out quietly before looking up at you with that handsome smile of his again. “You’re going to be the one getting massaged tonight. You’re not allowed to say no. I just want to take care of you tonight, love,” he said as he walked over to the dry ingredients, mixing both sets together slowly so he didn’t throw the batter. You pout a little but don’t object, grabbing sleek cookie sheets out and spraying them down with olive oil so the cookies wouldn’t stick. You look over at your man just watching him fold the ingredients together, his expression focused. You walk over to him and laugh softly, gently kissing his clammy back before squeezing your way under his arm and in front of him.

“You’re really stiff moving babe. It’s not gonna bite you, *hero,”* you tease him as you gently take the mixing tool away from him, your wrist loose, your expression calm before leaning your head back against his chest, his hands holding the bowl in place. He looks down at you as you meet his gaze and you smile at him with a soft blush. “Why are you looking at me like that…?”

“Like what,” was his answer before kissing your forehead, one of his hands gently wrapping around yours and you both finish mixing the batter. He took some on his finger and he held his meaty finger up to your lip looking down at you. You smile and gently suck the cookie dough off of his finger causing him to blush a little. You look up at him and he looked back away, his eyes glittery now.

“Did… I do something wrong?”

“No of course not, you couldn’t have,” he replied as he took out two scooping tools handing one to you. “After you my sweet little thing,” he said with a soft grin as he started to scoop dollops of cookie dough out of the bowl and drop them on the cookie sheets. 

    You both take your turns dropping little lobs on the cookie sheets, but he never loses contact with you. He gently holds your waist with at least one hand as he does so, always staying behind you, his foot right by yours so you know he’s there and so you don’t trip over him or move too far away from him. When you bent over to put the cookie sheets in the oven, he couldn’t help but to grab at your ass and pull you into him, looking down the curve of your back at the back of your head and your shoulders too. You yelp out and one leg jolts up out of surprise and he just snickers at you. After you set the timer, he scooped you up and placed you on the counter, standing in between your legs, his hands resting on either side of you. You gently wrapped your legs around his waist and gently run your fingers up his forearms, then his biceps, then the sides of his neck, one hand feeling down his chest and then over his abs. “Someone’s been putting in a little overtime,” you say quietly meeting his gaze which was overflowed with nothing but love and adoration for you and you alone. The way that he looked at you shot butterflies through your stomach and you couldn’t help but to whimper softly.

“Y-Yeah I’ve gotten some training done so I could be the best hero for everybody… I don’t care about being the number 1 hero… I mean, it’d be nice, but… We all do our jobs the best way we can to make sure everyone stays safe… I just want to be the only one who’s doing that job for you… I want to be your number one hero,” he said softly, grabbing one of your hands and holding it up to his face, pressing his cheek into your palm. You didn’t understand it; how could someone be so hot but adorable at the same time, respectful and professional, manly and soft at the same time, the juxtaposing roles fitting him so well. He spoke so loudly to other people but with you, sometimes you had to ask him to speak up, but at the same time he was still the excitable man you fell in love with, always ready to help someone else, always ready to put others and yourself before he took care of *himself,* always ready for an adventure or to use his imagination. 

“You know I love you so much right,” you ask him quietly as your thumb gently strokes against his cheek. “I love everything about you… You’re so beautiful to me,” you said quietly as you gently kiss the tip of his nose. He was flushed but he couldn’t really help that, he loved you too. Everything about you; he was an easy man to please when it came to you. You didn’t have to be all dressed up; he just wanted you WITH him. He loved it when he came home and saw you asleep with some infused water or lemon tea next to the couch than If you were in a pantsuit looking as stressed as ever. He adored it more when he saw you in joggers and a random shirt of his when he came home rather than makeup and fancy clothes. He loved all of your pimples, scars, and blemishes. He loved your backstory and how strong you are to still be there with him. He loved that he had such a sweet little thing to take care of, and he loved that this person was you. He couldn’t help but to kiss your palm before he kissed *you* gently. For the most part, he was pretty vanilla. He was only really into dirty talking but he couldn’t handle hurting you, even if you told him that it was okay. 

He softly hummed against your lips, his eyes a little narrow before closing right after yours did. He gently slid his tongue into your mouth and he groaned softly before slowly pulling away. His hand was rested on the back of your head while the other rested on the counter beside you. You were taken by surprise at this sudden action, but you didn’t complain, butterflies erupting in your stomach every time he kissed you. You whimper softly against his lips as he pulls away and then you open your eyes to find him smiling softly. His eyes were still closed, his pretty pristine white teeth illuminating your home even more than the lights against the snow outside as the gloaming fell into twilight. He looked so serene, so peaceful and absolutely beautiful, even as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip just to taste the remains of your flavor on them before he slowly opened his eyes to look at you.  

           Another wave of butterflies torrented your heart.

     You couldn’t help but to smile at him, your hands now rested on either side of his face as you both took in the other’s beauty. You both never had to keep a continuous conversation to connect with each other and you loved that about him. You were just fine with him admiring you while you just silently and— not so— secretly adore him. The oven beeped suddenly making you jump, but his eyes were still fixated on yours, his smile growing more before he snapped out of it. He held your waist against the counter and he laughed quietly, gently kissing your cheek before grabbing an oven mitt even though he was sure that his quirk would be just fine for the task but he didn’t want to chance it.

“Don’t move baby, I’ll get them for you,” he said quietly. He gently opened the oven and recoiled at the heat that blasted in his face, quickly recovering and pulling out the cookies, gently setting the sheets next to you but not so close that you could accidentally burn yourself on them. They were perfect. A little sunken in the middle, flaky, golden around the edges and the scent that wafted through your house was homey and comfortable. Inasa grinned at them pleased with the both of your work, happy that he didn’t ruin anything. “Why don’t we let these cool down with some dinner and a movie, hm? We can watch, any movie that you want,” he said as he stood back in between your legs, gently running his hands up your sides, taking advantage of the small of your back, the weakest part, just to pull you closer.

“I think that’s an amazing idea,” you say as your eyes flutter closed and you bury your face in the crook of his neck while he softly cooed at you. “Can it be a Christmas movie?”

“What kind of question is that? I *love* Christmas, besides… There’s snow on the ground… People have already put up their decorations… Yeah! Let’s do that! Besides, it smells just like Christmas in this house tonight… Only something’s missing….”

You look up as he starts to walk away and look around. “Well yeah… We don’t have a Christmas tree yet… I-“ you were cut off as he pulled a lighter from his pocket with a grin and he’d began to light the yankee candles that were spread through the house, dimming the actual lights. It was literal heaven, the scents along with the scenery of your house and the comfort of enjoying it with your man who happened to have the next day off. The warmth of the cookies pushed against your legs making you shiver as you slid off of the counter. You met him halfway and hugged him gently while he, once again, flashed you a hearty smile. The TV played a Christmas song as an ad break before the holiday movies started and he smiled down at you, gently resting one of his large hands in the small of your back while he took your hand with his other hand. You looked up at him, very confused, but even still you let him lead you with slow sways in the living room. “W-What’re you d-doing?”

“It doesn’t need to be December and we don’t need to have a Christmas tree or a mess of lights strung up everywhere to get that Christmas feeling sweet thing,” he hummed softly to you as he spun you and chuckled softly. “It always feels like Christmas when I’m with you… When I come home and you smile that beautiful smile of yours at me… I’m your hero, I see it in your eyes every single time you look at me… With so much love… And I don’t have to worry about much… Not with you. I could have saved… A million people but the only one that holds the weight of my heart is YOU,” he explained, his voice soft as he pulled you closer. “It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to have a heart to heart even though none of our encounters are heartless, but baby I eventually want a family with you… You know that right? Maybe a pet… Maybe a kid or two- I mean I love kids! And kids seem to love me… At least I hope they do,” he teased as he gently scratched your back. The way you looked up at him as he spoke was unmatched; a beautiful twinkle taking over, your cheeks a pretty lively pink, your lips barely parted and your breathing shaky and shuddery.

“The point is, I want to spend the rest of forever with you… I don’t understand why people romanticize things that aren’t romantic and then like.. Discredit actually romantic things… Like I could get used to this. I could get used to making you flustered just by talking about how I want to grow old with you… Or helping make cookies and dinner and then washing the dishes after… Things like that. I’ll never stop talking about it baby, never. You’re my sweet little thing, and you always will be. I understand if you don’t want to dance, but just for tonight baby, please just dance with me…” He spoke quietly, his eyes glistening with happy tears as his smile grew and radiated onto you. You gently take his face in your hands, stare into his eyes for a moment, and then press a tender kiss into his lips, his hands rested at your waist holding you close. You couldn’t help but to notice his quivering breaths and shaky bottom lip, so you bit his bottom lip just to hold it in place which gifted you with a soft whine from him. You slowly pull away and watch how he stares at you, how he was so overtaken with happy emotions he was about to cry. 

“I could dance with you forever if you’d let me,” you say quietly as you slowly lead him back into your guys’s small dance. “You’re the only one for me… The moment I met you… Even… Yelling your little lungs out- I don’t get how you do that all the time-“ you tease him and laugh right along with him. “But… I knew that I wanted to be with you… I didn’t care what anybody else had to say. I didn’t like how my family said it wouldn’t work out… You’re so sweet and kind and gentle and… Oh how did I get so lucky,” you say softly, tenderly wiping a stray tear that fell from his eye with your thumb. Your family always told you to pick someone more for size for you because he was a pro hero. Your family always hated pros and the idea of you being with one because of rumors that they were abusive, but Inasa- instead of closing you down into a box like your family- he made you feel that you were just as good if not better than any pro hero around, even himself. He always made sure to give you affirmations and to make sure that you mentally took care of yourself, even being a civilian teacher. Unless he had to, he never left you in the dark about his work that day. You had no complaints, no bad days, and no secrets… But your family didn’t care and so they cut you off for it. 

  “It’s not luck, sweet thing,” he said softly, gently kissing your forehead as the song ended. “Call it fate,” he said softly with a wink just wanting to hug you as announcers talked about the annual toy drive and gave a shoutout to Inasa because he always came in clutch when it came to the kids of the community, whether it be toys, or housing, or opportunities to teach- via you- or just hygienic products and clothes. He really was a hero fit to serve his community while the higher names sort of rejected it. 

You clapped a little and smiled at him as he was given the shout-out and he bit his lip nervously. “My passionate little hero,” you whispered quietly before he picked you up and hugged you tight against him. You squeaked quietly and clung to him as he walked back into the kitchen and moved the boiling water off of the burner. “I’m assuming it’s this udon that wasn’t here when I left this morning,” he asked as he rose his eyebrow and took out the two bowls. He put them in the microwave to heat up and you just cuddled into him and hummed softly. 

  “You’d be correct, Inasa,” you mused as you gently kissed his neck. He took the two bowls out of the microwave and walked to the couch as you clung to him and he sat down, finally on the couch, keeping your legs in his lap as he spread the throw over the both of you, handing you your bowl as “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” started to play. You snuggle in close to him and look as if you’re already about to fall asleep. 

  “Itadakimasu,” he mumbled softly, pressing a soft kiss against your head, and then taking a bite, completely relaxing into the couch. “You’re such an amazing cook, you know that,” he laughed softly, halfway watching the movie, halfway keeping his attention directed to you.

  “Well… I mean if you say so,” you mumbled quietly, burying your head into his bicep. He chittered quietly at you and pressed another soft kiss against your lips, your stomach turning in flips all over again. It was just something about him that made you turn into melted wax, the way he talked and was passionate about hero work, but also how he devoted himself to his community and you. Suddenly the conversation you had earlier held weight in your mind; the future, your family, everything. You wanted the same thing as he did but you figured you’d leave the conversation buried until later when you guys had your nightly talk. It wasn’t Christmas yet, but the feeling he gave you, the security that he instilled in you… It almost brought you to tears… You took in his soft familiar scent and continued to eat your food pleased that you had such an amazing man to call your own.