#you really think that in 10k years this topic never came up?

[lightdancer1]

And frankly I don't care what fanon says:

We have seen how Death and Dream interact. She never has a problem calling him on his shit, and the serious shit. I really don't think that Death and Dream discussing Nada in the Season of Mists was the first time it ever came up.

The surprise here would not be that the topic came up, but 1) that Death and Desire, who have a relationship at least as hostile or moreso as Desire and Dream agreed on something of importance and said so in a short span of time, and/or 2) that Dream actually was willing both to listen and to act on it. And here, at least, is one case where the fishbowl would probably make a difference in Dream being willing to hear this and to admit he made a mistake instead of spitefully doubling down and lashing out about it.

I can't see Death staying completely silent about it for 10,000 years. I can see that where she and Dream had some major arguments would have been this and that Dream wouldn't have taken it well in the past. Dream acting on that, Dream admitting he was wrong, is a key turning point in his fate and where he first begins to face the dual choices of changing or death.

[frociaggine]

Idk I think we should also consider how the name feels on them? Like Mia is a beautiful name, it’s so unbelievably light though….. Matilda or Miriam though. Matilda is very popular now. Mercymorn is not a real name I think so he straight up made it up for her specifically. I bet it was something like Marceline and they called her Marcy. Also probably means that she was somehow special to John. Hmmm.

Also, I kinda think that Augustine’s real name would be something short and boring, like Alan. But that’s because I have this horrible suspicion that when John tampered with his friends memories after he resurrected them he accidentally (not) made them into sort of caricatures of their original selves. 1) they act very differently in his memories, waaay less theatrical and less refined and it cannot be just the 10000 years, 2) that’s just how memory and personhood works, 3) this one is very hard to explain but Mercy, Augustine and Gideon just feel to me like people who have very limited ways of expressing themselves. Like Mercy and her “yuck ugh”? I’m sure M- used to say that, yeah. I’m sure that’s what John remembered about her. But I don’t think she speaks like that in his memories. Same goes for Augustine. I don’t know how to explain it. The og Lyctors are supposed to feel like people burdened by their own selves, yeah, but when I realized that John picked and chose their memories I was like. Oh! So that’s like if you only had to express yourself the way your friend sees and remembers you. Because then all three of them make sense. Like imagine that you have real feelings but you have very very limited actions to express yourself because you are designed to reflect Johns memory about your own dead self. Like. That sucks!!! Gideon Prime especially has this thing about him. And even Pyrrha although to a lesser extent and she def has some of her og memories.

I kind of have a headcanon that BOE might know their real names but only because they were remembered as heroic scientists that helped them save humanity but Sadly Couldn’t Be On The Ship or something. I think it would be very funny.

I love how everyone in the fandom has their original name headcanons but we all agree that they were boring (except Pyrrha)

Also I LOVE all the thoughts on the relativity of memory and how someone appears to another's eyes is never who they really are, and how that translated to the backstory mindwipe. I don't believe John picked and chose their memories with any finesse, just because 1) he does things very intuitively; 2) picking and choosing which memories to keep for an entire group of people who all knew each other AND knew you too is logistically complicated? what if there are inconsistencies etc; and 3) I doubt he wanted to risk accidentally messing it up.

I think their personality was informed by their souls—that are definitely a thing in TLT!—and they definitely didn't feel "caricatures" in HtN (to me!), just very tired very bitter people. But I can absolutely seeing John consciously or unconsciously shaping their personalities just bc he expected them to behave in a certain way that mapped with what he remembered, even if it wasn't necessarily how they'd have behaved if he hadn't been there.

Personally, I doubt BoE know much of anything about the end of earth. This is a whole different topic but tldr: it's been 10k years; they know the names that have been passed down the generations, but they don't have any context for where they came from. Language has evolved, and IMO what Wake said to John in HtN is more speculation and guesses than based on facts (she repeatedly talked about only one bomb; I think that was deliberate on Muir's part)

I think often about John becoming the flood myth for generations of human refugees fleeing earth — a wrathful deity, a vengeful enemy etc! — and IMO what little BoE know (or think they know) survived as hazy mythology and there's a lot of debate around it and probably no actual documentation.

(I AM ONCE AGAIN THINKING ABOUT THE CULTURAL PECULIARITIES OF THE BOE PLANETS... what if I did a Nona reread and went on a long post spree)

[people-wxtching]

DID YOU KNOW that a majority of the stars we look at in the sky aren't actually dead?? while its true that we're seeing images of them from like 10K years ago, but they have such absurdly long lifespans that actually only a few in the entire night sky are actually dead. its pretty cool!

(btw, this is a fun anon so vry sorry if it came across as mean qwueaskhjdahk) (i personally still go with the whole 'star graveyard' thing because its soo much more poetic. but i think its pretty cool this way too. we'll never know whether the star we're looking at is one of the ones that are dead or alive. the world is kind of like that too, i think? idk haha)

anyway soso sorry for just ranting in your inbox um. hi hows your day?

yeah I did know that actually! some of them are dead but quite a few aren't and that's pretty cool! I might actually end up doing something related to this for a project I need to submit actually, it's a pretty interesting topic

also I feel this has something to do with the title of my blog in which case, just so you know it's just a lyric from a song lmao dw

no no dw it didn't come off as mean at all! it was a really interesting ask; I love talking about space

and don't worry about ranting in my inbox! you can go ahead and rant even more if you like! I'd love to hear from you. my day's going okay for now, what about you?

[jcwriting]

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep.  Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense.  It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

LINKS:

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[hollyhomburg]

Hi there!

So I've been someone who became an army around this time last year and decided that I desperately needed some good bangtan fics. From memory, BILY was one of the first fics that I came across and got so excited for. This was when you had only just released the prologue. I decided to keep following up on this because I thought "whoever this writer is, they must be super dedicated to writing out this story if the prologue that they released was around 10k words (if I remember correctly)". It was also, at the time, an interesting mafia concept that I found to be quite refreshing. Fast forward to now where it is very clearly not the mafia fic I had imagine it to be, I felt like it was time for me to finally send something.

BILY is nothing like I had expected it to be, but became so much more than that. I absolutely adore the way in which you write, each character, each emotion and thought. You explore all these different themes and topics that I myself haven't experienced before. It's so therapeutic and comfortable to read, yet also thought provoking and provides new perspectives at times. It has taught me a lot about different things and made me reflect on these topics even if I hadn't particularly thought about it before.

Sincerely, thank you for writing such an amazing, insightful and beautiful story. You're a spectacular writer with an ability to create such a vivid world, compelling storylines and incorporate such human emotions into your characters. Looking at the comments and asks other readers leave behind I think I can confidently say that we all really enjoy your writing and would wait however long until you're ready and happy with releasing a chapter.

From a reader who lacks the braincells to come up with theories and unearth everyone's secrets but will happily watch in silence and support you.

Congratulations for writing 30 amazing chapters. I hope you have an amazing day and can't wait to see what's going to happen next.

^.^ anon (because people sign anon messages like this right?)

YEAH- so this is a valid critisizim of bily that it really doesn't fit very well into the 'mafia fic' genre, but i think that there is a lot of overlap- bily is a queer story, but it's also enemies to lovers and slow burn, it's also a spy fic and an assassin fic, like- it's very very hard to tag shit as a fanfic writer- you sorta have to just go with what fits most of the time. i think that the best genre title i could think of with bily is hurt/comfort and suspense because that seems like it's 90% of the story

but i digress!!! your comments are absolutely lovely, and you're right- i do care about bily an offal lot, it's funny, writing stories has never possessed me for so long, I've been writing bily for the better part of a year- and i don't think there has been a day where i haven't thought about it? but regardless I'm glad I'm offered the opportunity to spread the love around <3

there has been alot of thought discussion in bily, from like- physlosophies of love to recovery, I'm happy that i can share all the tangled ideas with you (i hope to make them focused a little more in the next few chapters- idk why i feel like I've derailed the story recently- maybe it's because it doesn't seem like so many people have been reading them recently). hearing that people are willing to wait is certainly reassuring regardless

i hope that the story will have something for everyone in a way. the people who want the fluff have the fluff chapters, the people who want the secrets will pour through it to find the hints and the people who want the smut will have that to look forward and build too. i wouldn't worry too much about it.

you will be little kitty anon! it's fated!!! there you go! thank you for your lovely comment! we've got so many more chapters to go!

[princehrry-writings]

Y/n's a witch and Harry's her soulmate

I'VE LITERALLY BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR 2 MONTHS!!!

lanfvksbkvjbs I hope you guys like it because I poured my whole soul into this!!!! I wanted it to be over 10k but I felt like I was just dragging it on and the ending isn't great but it's ok.

I switch between present and past tense without meaning too- oops :)

wordcount: 9911

warnings: uhhh, swearing, google translated latin :) catcalling and unwanted male attention (with a bad witch moment... see what i did there😏), a little bit of violence, very lightly edited lmao

She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Was this another witch? No, she would have felt that energy differently. So he had to be a mortal. But why did it feel like she had just been set on fire in the best way possible.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

or

Harry walks into Y/n’s shop one day, sees the brooms sweeping by themselves and gets a little curious.

.

.

.

“Althea, get your claws out of there. You’re gonna get hair in the muffins!” Y/n shrieked, quickly shooing the troublesome feline away from the open bowl of batter sat atop the counter. The cat just meowed at her, unbothered by her person's shrieking. Thea was quite the diva. She couldn’t give a flying fuck even if she tried.

“Oh Stars, look what you’ve done!” Y/n continued, cleaning up the trail of paw prints left in the flour on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of the kitchen when I’m baking Thea! Why don’t you ever listen!”

Y/n has been a little strung up lately. That’s probably the understatement of the century. Maybe if she hadn’t been put in charge of the shop for the first time by herself while her mother went to gather supplies and place orders for said shop, she wouldn’t be so stressed. She’s only 22 years into her eternal lifetime. She’s yet to learn the virtue of patience, her mind never ceasing to run with ideas and thoughts and feelings.

Her mother always griped about how she needed to take a deep breath and let go of the tension in her shoulders because now that she had stopped ageing- she had all the time in the world (literally) to do everything she was worried about. Y/n would argue that she’s not worried so much as eager. She’s just very excitable.

“Why do I even bother yelling at you anymore.” Y/n grumbled, flicking her wrist in the direction of the broom closet. The broom and dustpan came floating out and got to work sweeping up the bits of flower seeds and petals that had dropped off the table instead of into the mortar like she had planned.

Y/n’s never been known for her cleanliness.

Out of the blue, the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood at full attention, a warm shiver shooting down her spine. What the hell? She thought to herself. Thea didn’t seem bothered by whatever energy was coming closer so she knew it wasn’t any danger, but it was something. Y/n flicked her wrist once more, quickly sending the broom away and going to hide behind a wall where whoever this was couldn’t see her.

The little bells above the door chimed, alerting anyone inside that someone had just arrived. In walked, who Y/n thought to be, the most beautiful boy she thinks she’s ever seen. Chestnut curls shielded by a knit beanie, sea glass eyes, broad shoulders, a kind smile on his face. He looked as ethereal as she was.

She felt the earth shift under her feet, her heart speeding up slightly in his presence. He was magnificent, she thought. The shiver she felt was steadfast and unchanging, finding a home in the goosebumps covering her whole body. She had never felt like this before.

The witch watched from behind the wall as the man gazed about the shop, his hands rested behind his back. In a pair of black jeans with a rip in the knee and a white tee shirt with a cardigan thrown over it, he shuffled about.

Y/n took a deep breath, collecting herself before making her presence known. She walked out from behind the wall, stepping behind the main checkout counter and clearing her throat lightly.

“Welcome in! I’m Y/n, let me know if you need any help!” She said, trying not to cringe at how scripted that sounded.

His head popped up, eyes connecting with hers and that’s when they both felt the energy in the room grow. Thea came sauntering out of the kitchen area in the back, Y/n made a mental note to check the muffin batter for cat hair later, no doubt at the electrical charge of the room.

She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Was this another witch? No, she would have felt that energy differently. So he had to be a mortal. But why did it feel like she had just been set on fire in the best way possible.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

There was a pause, where neither of them wanted to move, in fear of this moment passing and never getting to feel like this ever again.

It felt like having a picnic on a warm summer day, where it’s not too hot but just right. It felt like the first breath of fresh Spring air, like hearing a baby giggle. She felt fuzzy and warm. Like she was wrapped in a hug. Y/n felt… peaceful. She felt all of her anxiety about the shop melt away, as if it had never been there.

Harry smiled at her, a pink tinge coating his skin, and pulled his eyes away (he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by staring), continuing on with his peruse of the shop. He had no idea why he was here, truly. Didn’t realize where he was until he pushed through the door. He doesn’t even know what any of this stuff is, he’s just looking so it seems like he knows what he’s doing.

He felt something brush his ankle, looking down and seeing a fluffy snow white cat with striking green eyes (just like his!), and cooed at her.

“Is it alright if I pet her?” He asked, looking back up at Y/n. He would take any chance he got to look at her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. With her shiny hair and kind eyes, a smile that made you want to hug her. She looked so welcoming. He felt… oddly peaceful.

“Yeah of course! She’s my little attention whore, aren’t you Thea?” Y/n giggled and Harry thought his heart would stop right there. Her little giggle was the most glorious sound he’d ever heard, he decided.

She got up from her little stool behind the counter and floated over to him, using her cat as an excuse to get closer. She just couldn’t figure out why she had such a pull to him. It didn’t make sense to her. Maybe he was a witch and was just masking his energy really well, maybe he was some sort of other creature, or maybe… no, that can’t be it.

Well…

Maybe… he’s her Flame. Her Twin Flame… Her Soulmate.

No. There’s no way. It’s so rare for witches to find their flames. And especially at such a young age. Y/n’s parents didn’t find each other for almost 75 years, and here she is at just 22, stumbling upon some magical happenstance where her Flame just saunters into her family’s shop.

Harry scratched behind Thea’s ear, a motor-like pur erupting from her little belly. She nuzzled into his touch, and then sprung up onto his shoulder from the table, startling the man. Y/n giggled at the look on his face, reaching up to scratch just above Thea’s tail, her favorite spot.

“She does that when she likes someone.” Y/n explained. A blush appeared on his face at this.

She likes him.

“So was there anything in particular you were looking for?” Y/n continued, hoping to make more conversation with him. Her fingers are buzzing, wanting to reach out and hold his hand or touch his arm, anyway she can get her hands on him really, but she knows that would be inappropriate so she refrains (however difficult it may be).

Harry was in the same boat. He felt the need to wrap her up in his embrace and never let her go. It was the strangest thing he thinks he’s ever felt.

“Honestly, no. I don’t really know what any of this stuff is… I didn’t even realize when I walked in but I didn’t want to look like a psycho just walking in and out of shops randomly.” A shy smile displays on his features.

Y/n chuckled. This furthers her hunch that he is, in fact, her Flame. Getting a random urge to come in here could only mean that the invisible string tying them together was leading him to her. Pulling them closer and closer everyday until this very moment, when they were fated to meet. Written in the stars to know each other, whether that be for love or friendship only time would tell.

She really hopes it’s love.

“Ok… We’re kind of just a general shop. We carry crystals, herbs, spices, oils, candles, and my mother does a lot of crafts, so we sell those here too.” Y/n went on to explain, Harry’s eyes flitted around to all the things she mentioned. He saw glittering crystals, by themselves but also made into jewelry like rings and necklaces, he saw bundles of different flowers and vials of liquids he assumed were the oils she mentioned.

“What is all this stuff for?” He questioned. He had never heard of anyone suddenly needing Oxeye Daisies or black onyx crystals, but he’d never been one to judge.

Y/n paused, thinking of the best way to explain everything. Practising “witchcraft” wasn’t an unusual topic to humans, but they didn’t know that witches with magic that was (semi-inaccurately) portrayed in movies and tv shows actually existed.

“Uhm, anything in the shop can be used for a number of things. Apothecary, gardening, herbal remedies, manifestation.” She explained. He nodded along with her words, doing his best to focus on what she was saying rather than just her. His body was tingling the closer she stood. He never wanted this feeling to go away.

Whatever this feeling was.

Harry looked around, his sights landing on a shelf full of colorful candles. His eyes lit up, trotting over to them, picking up one that was a light lavender color. He didn’t know he was drawn to this one in particular, but something had pulled him to grab it. Something was telling him to buy it, bring it home, and burn it on his bedside table, right next to his head every night.

It was Y/n’s favorite color.

The girl's cheeks burnt when she realized this was the one he had picked out. The occurrence might seem random to anyone passing by, anyone who didn’t know two halves of a soul had just been reunited with one another after being apart for however many years. But Y/n knew, and hopefully Harry would know soon.

She didn’t want to scare him though. He would think she was crazy. Imagine a random stranger that you’ve never seen before in your entire life tells you that you’re meant to spend the rest of your life together. He would run away screaming.

So she has to start slow.

“Think I might get a few candles…” Harry trails off, looking around at all the different shapes and sizes of colored wax sitting before him. Y/n smiles at this and nods, letting him know she’ll be at the counter if he needs anything.

Please need something, she hopes to herself.

He didn’t end up needing anything, but he ended up purchasing 3 candles, all of them being that same lavender color.

* .

. * .

It was a few weeks later when Y/n felt a familiar tingle run down her spine. Harry must be near, she thought.

She had spent the last fortnight and then some moping about the shop and her flat, hoping her Flame would turn up again. Her mother, Asteria, had been ecstatic when she heard that her daughter had found her Flame, and empathised with her pain, understanding that he was a mortal and it was difficult to form bonds with them quickly. The woman always found it interesting how the most indefinite creatures took the longest to form their bonds. But then she remembered they had no knowledge of Twin Souls and often settled for one not fated to them.

“Mama, he’s close. I can feel him!” Y/n cried, tidying her appearance in the reflection of the window. She hopes to the Stars that he’s coming to see her and not just passing through.

Waving away the brooms fluttering around the shop, she busies herself restocking shelves. Asteria had just finished a new batch of candles that needed shelving. The mother had been trying new recipes lately and was excited to see how they would fare.

Y/n almost misses the little chime of the bells signaling that someone has just entered. If it weren’t for the energy in the room skyrocketing and all the hair in her body standing at attention, she wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Turning, her gaze falls upon a familiar set of sea glass eyes and chestnut curls that have enchanted her mind every passing second since the first time they met. She tried her damndest to hide her grin, but had to turn away so he wouldn’t be able to see it.

Harry looked around the shop before his gaze fell upon the girl he hadn’t stopped dreaming about since he last was here. There she stood, back turned to him, with her shiny hair and adorable outfit. In a lavender colored sundress, hair pulled back by a white scarf, she fussed about the candle shelf that Harry had searched the last time he came.

Everytime he burned that candle, he thought of the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the different items in the shop and how she smiled at him when he asked her a question.

Harry had never been one to jump into things quickly. He was the kind of guy that liked to get a feel for a situation before he really dived into it. But there was something about this girl that made him want to jump in head first, fearless. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her, daydreaming about little scenarios that he wished would happen between them.

He knows he sounds crazy, but he has a crush on her. And he’d only met her once! That is so not like him at all.

Y/n turned once again, sure that she had calmed the burning in her cheeks, greeting Harry as if she hadn’t thought of him in weeks.

“Welcome in,” she says, wondering if it would be weird to him if she remembered who he was, she decided she doesn’t care, “Oh, hi Harry!”

“Hello Y/n!” He smiles. Y/n felt her heart stutter in her chest when her name fell from his lips. As if she was floating (she had to check to make sure she actually wasn’t), she followed the sound of his voice, going to stand before him. Her first instinct was to hug him, and she was very sad that she had to stop herself.

“What brings you back?” She asked, itching to reach out and hold his hand. His gaze flits around for a few seconds before landing back on her face, a rose tint now on his cheeks.

“I- uh, I don’t really know. I just felt like I needed to come back…” He stuttered. A smile graced her lips, causing an identical one to grow on his own. Asteria watched from behind the counter, beaming at the couple.

“Y/n dear, who’s this?” The witch called. Y/n snapped out of her love-drunk haze, looking to her mother.

“Mama, this is Harry. He came in a few weeks ago while you were away.” She answered, giving her a look that said “please don’t say anything.” Asteria had a tendency to butt into her daughter's life, and Y/n needed to figure this out on her own.

Thea came flouncing out from whichever corner she had burrowed herself into and nosed at Harry’s feet before launching herself onto Y/n’s shoulder and staring at Harry from her new height advantage.

“Well look at you Thea, sittin’ all pretty up there!” Harry reached out to scratch behind her ears. Thea began purring loudly, louder than she did when Y/n petted her (Y/n did her best not to roll her eyes at her attention whore cat). The one thing the girl loved about this was now she had a reason to step closer to the boy before her. He smelled like citrus and woods, with a hint of weed (she’s not judging, she just wouldn’t peg him for a stoner so it’s a little surprising). She let it take over her senses until all she could think about was HaryHaryHary, having to stop herself from purring just like the cat.

“Well, whatever led you back here, it’s nice to see you again!” She blushed, deciding to let her affection for him shine through lightly. Y/n realized she didn’t really want to waste time dancing around mortal niceties. She didn’t want to scare him off but she wouldn’t feign disinterest. The witch wanted to make it clear she was smitten with him. So this was her way of starting slow, letting her blushes be seen, maybe resting a gentle hand on his bicep if he says something that makes her laugh, letting her longing gazes be caught before she looks away.

Like she said before, she’s going to start slow.

“I am too…” Harry wondered if maybe she felt the things he was feeling too. If she couldn’t stop thinking about him the way he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wondered if it would be weird to ask her out. See if she wanted to get dinner with him, or have a picnic in a park on a sunny afternoon while he stared, as uncreepily as he could, at her bright smile and star-stricken eyes.

Very quickly, like it almost didn’t happen, Y/n saw a blush pink haze surrounding the boy. He was feeling love. The heat in her cheeks rose, fluttering of her heart increasing.

Now she knew for sure, he was her soulmate for love- not friendship. Thank the Stars!

* .

. * .

The next few weeks, Harry would come in every few days just to see Y/n. After realizing that she might be feeling the way he was, he wanted to make it clear to her that he was smitten. So he’d come in after he got done with whatever he’d been doing that day, bring her flowers or a blue-raspberry red bull italian soda (he saw her drinking one one day when he came by) and they would talk and sometimes he’d bring food if it was late and they would eat at the counter in the back kitchen. It became a routine, and he started showing up almost everyday. On slower days, she would close up early, so as not to have a single distraction from her Flame.

The two would talk about the most obscure things, not giving a rat if others heard them cackling at each other's jokes and misspeakings (Y/n stumbled over her words quite a bit when she was tired, he came to realize. He thought it was adorable).

In return for the beautiful flowers and the delicious drinks he’d bring her, Y/n would give him little spell jars or charmed items to make his life easier. He didn’t know they were spelled or charmed, but he thought it was cute how she gave him a lavender colored pen and told him he would think of her every time he wrote anything down (she had charmed it to always spell things correctly) or a little jar filled with lavender and chamomile buds, a few drops of lavender oil and a small amethyst crystal sealed in white wax to help quell the anxiety he’d been feeling with his job lately.

He appreciated them more than any material thing she could have purchased for him. He liked that she wanted him to think about her or that she wanted to do away with his ailments. He came in with a cold once and she spent the better part of an hour fussing over him, telling him all these little tricks to clear his sinuses and giving him different blends of herbs and spices that should clear this up in no time! He thought she was very adorable, worrying over a little cold and wanting to make him better.

Harry found that each time he left her, the force that pulled him to her grew stronger. He wanted to be in her presence more and more every time he walked out the door of the shop. The boy still didn’t really understand what it was about her, but he’s long since stopped asking questions and was just rolling with the punches.

Speaking of things Y/n did that Harry thought was cute- the things she said enamoured him, rendered him so speechless sometimes all he could do was sit there and look at her, (ironically) wondering what magical force brought her to him. He had no idea that the Universe herself was the one who chose his favorite girl.

“Oh Stars Thea! Get out of the nettle! It makes you sneeze, silly cat!”

“Stars forbid you ever listen to me, mother.”

“Althea Rose get your furry ass away from that hot wax before I feed you to the hellhounds!”

He loved how she was always saying Stars where he would normally say Jesus Christ. He never was one to be into religion but it was just something people around him said.

As the weeks went by, they began to sit closer and closer to each other. What started as across the table from one another, began to turn into her at the head and him on the corner next to her, then both of them sitting on one side but a bit of space between them, and then side by side, thighs touching, on the bench seat. Eventually, Y/n would lay one of her legs over his and he would rest his hand innocently on her skin, his thumb absentmindedly brushing back and forth, tapping his fingers to an imaginary beat as she told him a story about a kooky customer that came in.

That was another thing he loved that she said a lot: kooky.

Their goodbyes had grown more and more affectionate over time as well. From a little wave and a shy smile to a little hug, to a bear hug with a kiss on the temple from Harry.

Things were moving very swimmingly. Y/n was happy with the progress the two had made in getting to know each other. She had learned that he worked at a marketing firm but his passion was music, that he was in a band when he was in high school, and he’s from a village in Manchester.

Harry learned that Y/n has a degree in herbology and really likes the woods, and the show The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (despite the inaccurate depiction of witches, she thinks the characters are pretty).

Y/n has been trying to figure out the best way to tell Harry about her… lifestyle. It’s going to be a big shift in his reality and she worries that she’s going to overwhelm him. Her parents didn’t have this problem because they were both witches, but she had been fated to a mortal, which she’s not complaining about because loves Harry and all his human afflictions (loves!), but it’s quite a task keeping him in the dark until she’s ready to shed light on everything.

Especially on a day like today.

Her mother is out again, leaving her in charge of the store, again! And as previously mentioned, Y/n gets a little strung up when she’s left in charge. She’s forgetful, her mind flying all over the place. Her messiness gets worse, leaving different things all over the place (she somehow left a grimoire in the refrigerator at home), losing things… Basically, Y/n’s not doing so hot at the moment.

A busy spell had just finished, she had like 7 different customers in at once, all of them needing her for different things and all the chamomile and lavender oil rubbed behind her ear in the world couldn’t calm the anxiety flowing through her at the moment. She’d been so strung up that she hadn’t noticed the warm golden shiver running down her spine or all the hair on her body raising to attention or the jingle of the bells on the door when Harry walked in.

Walked in to see… the brooms sweeping up by themselves? And different pots and pans flying back into place… with no one carrying them. And Y/n muttering words he didn’t understand while her fingers wiggled, making the pestle inside what he learned to be called a mortar, moving by itself.

To say the least, Harry was very confused. And a little scared. Was he dreaming? Did today even happen? Was he still at home lying in bed?

The only thing that makes him realize he’s not is the shriek Y/n let’s out when she sees him standing frozen in the doorway, eyebrows pulled together in confusion (and a little bit of terror), mouth agape like he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. All at once, every moving item ceased and dropped, including the pots and pans which made a very loud noise, scaring Thea so much that she did the loud “meow!” that you only hear cats do in movies, and Y/n let out a quiet“Shit!”

“Harry…” She muttered, standing up slowly and treading towards him.

“Um… Y/n. What- what the fuck… was all of that?” He stuttered, and she continued to walk to him.

“Love, why don’t we go sit down and I’ll explain everything to you!” Y/n said slowly. She had taken to calling him Love lately, not being able to stop herself. They had yet to really “confess their feelings” to the other, but it was like a silent thing that no one said but they both just knew. So the name didn’t surprise him. Actually in the midst of all this craziness (and how his whole world had just seemed to be flipped in a matter of 5 seconds) he was clinging to the familiarity of the pet name.

He nodded, his eyes glazing over as he tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Y/n waved her wrist, everything that had dropped seeming to come to life again and be put back into their rightful places. Harry stared in amazement. Seeing it for the second time really drove the nail into the coffin that holy shit this is really happening…

They sat down side by side on the bench where they normally did but Y/n didn’t put her leg over his like they had grown used to. She missed the contact but figured a little space while she explained everything would be best for her Flame. Harry didn’t agree and tugged her closer to him. She didn’t fight it.

“Ok,” She sighed, cracking her knuckles as she took a deep breath, “Harry… my darling Harry. I need you to keep an open mind while I tell you all of this ok? It’s gonna be a lot for you to take in and I don’t want you to get a headache.” He nodded, and she took his hands in her own, running her thumb over his palm and channeling positive energy between the two of them. She saw Harry relax a little, letting her know it worked. He was ready (as ready as he could be) to hear what she had to say.

“Love, I’m a witch.” She says, letting it sink in for a moment. Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. Y/n wonders if he’s even breathing. The strong pulse thumping in his wrist is a steady reminder that he’s ok, just shocked. (Very, very shocked).

“I come from a very long line of very powerful witches. I have magic, kind of like you see in movies and tv shows except I don’t worship the devil or eat children. None of us do. We’re usually very gentle creatures, unless we’re put in danger. Witches don’t use magic to hurt others, quite the opposite actually.”

“So… you cast spells and stuff?” He asks quietly. She breathes a laugh through her nose, nodding her head, continuing to channel him by rubbing her thumbs over his palms.

“I do, that’s what you saw me doing at the counter. I was actually strengthening the anti-anxiety jar I gave you a few weeks ago, because you told me you had a big project coming up and I didn’t want you to get too stressed out.” The girl said.

Harry couldn’t really focus on one thing for too long, letting his gaze flit around the kitchen area. He felt oddly… calm.

“Why do I feel so calm right now? I feel like I should be freaking out a little bit more than I am…” He voiced, finally looking into her eyes.

“I’m channeling you… look.” She said, pointing her gaze to their hands. He sees her thumbs rubbing gentle circles into his palms and looks back into her eyes.

“You’re casting a spell on me right now?” Harry wonders out loud.

“Channeling isn’t necessarily a spell, I’m just focusing and directing positive energy onto you right now, to help keep you calm. Like I said, I don’t want you to get a headache or pass out on me. I can stop if you want me to though!” She added quickly at the end but he shook his head.

“No, don’t stop…” He almost cried, pulling her closer to him.

“Ok, I won’t. It’s ok!” She shushed him, letting one of her hands float to his cheek, brushing over his cheek bone and pushing a fallen curl out of his eyes, before her hand found his again.

“Was it a spell that made me want to come in here that first day?”

“No baby, that’s actually a little different. This might be a little much so you gotta bear with me ok?” She explained and he nodded, heaving out a heavy breath.

A beat of silence passes and Y/n lets her eyes lock with his.

“We’re Twin Flames… or what you would know as Soulmates. We were fated to be together. That’s why you felt a pull to come in here. We were… destined… to meet each other.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/n feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest. She knew he was going to find out someday, but really didn’t expect that day to be this one. This crazy long day where everything had seemed to just bubble over and explode. She should have known something was going to happen when this morning, the flame on the candle she had lit for Harry on her altar was taller than it ever had been. She had written it off to him just thinking about her or something (if this was the case, it would be to the ceiling all day everyday because he never stops thinking about her), but she should have known. And now, here she was, terrified that Harry was going to walk away from her. She would understand if he did, it’s a lot to take in, and having your whole world flipped on its head is a bit much.

It would still break her heart though.

“So… this is normal?” Harry broke his silence.

“Is what normal?”

“That I want to be around you all the time? That I think about you all the time? What I’m feeling is normal?”

Y/n’s face softens. He’s so cute, she thinks. She could just wrap him up in a little bow and keep him all to herself for the rest of time.

“Yes, baby. It’s normal! I’ve been feeling the same things as you ever since we first met!” Harry’s mind is a little clearer now, so he picks up on the new pet name. Baby. He likes it, he decides.

“You feel this way too?” He looks like a little puppy right now, Y/n could just cry. She nodded her head, scooting impossibly closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. It seemed now that he was even calmer than he had been before, even without her channeling. She stopped for a second to test his reaction and he was ok. He didn’t tense up, eyes didn’t well in tears, didn’t lose consciousness. So she moved her hands to cup his cheeks now, feeling him lean into her touch.

“You’ve been the only thing on my mind since before you even walked through the door that first day. You’re in my dreams every night, I see you every time I close my eyes, I’m completely taken with everything you do.” Y/n confesses, feeling a weight lift off her chest.

“I know it seems fast to you, as a mortal. Your kind usually takes this kind of thing slowly, really learns a person before you become vulnerable. Out of fear for being judged or whatever it might be, but I would never judge you. I want you to know it’s ok to let your guard down with me. Whatever you're comfortable with! I don’t want to overwhelm you in any way, and I know all of this is so so much to take in. I just want what’s best for you, my Love.”

It’s not lost on Harry that she adds my before Love. He feels his heart flutter.

“I’m taken with everything you do too. Absolutely everything.” He whispers, if he speaks too loudly the moment might be lost.

They stare into each other's eyes, feeling the energy in the room grow. Flames from the lit candles around the room grow tenfold, reflecting the rising energy. Harry has half a mind to break his gaze from the girl before him, seeing the tall flames before bringing his eyes back to hers. He sees her gaze drop to his lips repeatedly. He doesn’t think she even realizes that she’s leaning in to him, but he’s not going to stop her.

When she’s so close he can feel her breath fanning over his face, she pauses, looking back up to his eyes, silently asking for permission. With her hands still cupping his cheeks gently, she closes the distance between them, pressing her lips delicately to his. Harry places his hands in two places: her waist and her neck. He pulls her in closer, pressing their lips together more firmly. A wildfire spreads from head to toe on both of them. It seems as though time has paused for this very moment, and again the earth shifts. A piece of the universe has just been restored, two halves of a soul reunited.

Harry’s fingertips send sparks flowing down her spine, she hums against his lips. The kiss is simple, just two people getting to know each other, learning the other's body, but it’s long. It’s not just one peck. Harry presses his lips against hers multiple times, slotting her bottom between both of his.

When Y/n pulls back to catch her breath, Harry chases after her, not ready to end this moment yet. She chuckles and grants him a few more kisses until she really is about to pass out because she needs to breathe. Pushing him gently, she breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against his, keeping her eyes closed.

She so badly wants to let the three words sitting on the tip of her tongue go, but doesn’t want to overwhelm him with too much all at once.

“Do you feel that?” He whispers, pulling her to sit astride his lap. She moves pliantly, letting him take control of the situation.

The air feels charged, thick, like it should be hard to breath but it flows, smooth as water, into their lungs.

Y/n’s head feels heavy, like she’s high on every drug there ever was, her mind fuzzy, unable to think outside of this moment. Outside of this little wrinkle in time where Harry is the only other thing that exists.

“Yeah,” She whispers back, reconnecting their lips, slotting them together over and over until their lips are puffy and red. Harry slides his hands around her waist, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, not even a slip of paper would fit.

Pulling away, Harry heaves in a deep breath, squeezing Y/n’s hips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…” He says, nudging his nose against hers. She smiles, letting his affections wash over her, warming her eternal soul.

“This doesn’t freak you out?”

“Oh, I’m so freaked out but I'm kind of just going with it, living in the ambiguity and all that shit.” He heaves a laugh through his nose, pressing kisses to her cheek and down her neck, smoothing his hands up and down her back.

This was the best possible outcome of the situation, if Y/n had to be honest. It could have gone so many ways. Harry being freaked out but rolling with it… she’ll take it.

“How about we make dinner and you can ask me any questions you have?” She suggested and he nodded.

So they did just that. But Y/n closed the shop early and they went back to her place. Hand in hand they walked the few blocks, side glaces of reassurance and little squeezes of the hand, letting the other know they were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, with Thea in her little travel backpack (that she was absolutely in love with surprisingly).

They came upon an unsuspecting alleyway. Harry thought they were just passing through as a shortcut but Y/n stopped walking in the middle of a blank brick wall and muttered a few words she didn’t understand while waving her hands. He started to realize maybe this wasn’t just a shortcut.

Before his eyes, a door appeared. His brows shot up in surprise (he’s gonna get worry lines on his forehead if he doesn’t stop doing that, he realizes). Y/n looked over her shoulder at him, trying to hide a smirk but the look on his face was too good.

“Pretty wicked huh?” Harry didn't say anything, just chuckled and nodded, following her when she opened the door and a set of stairs appeared. Walking up the dimly lit hallway, they come to another door with the cheeky The Witch Is In sign.

“Cute.” Harry smirks at her and she laughs, opening it and letting him walk through first.

“Make yourself at home! I’ve got records on the shelf over there, you can pick one if you want. I’m just gonna feed Thea and get her all settled and we can get to making dinner.” Y/n explained. Harry ventured off into her living room, seeing the shelf she was talking about and browsing through. There were many different artists from Fleetwood Mac to Taylor Swift to Weezer. He picks out Hozier's self-titled album and puts it on, the beginning of Take Me To Church crackling through the speakers.

“Good choice,” He hears from behind him and smiles, turning around to see the girl he was apparently destined to spend the rest of his life with standing before him.

“Jackie and Wilson has been stuck in my head the last few days so,” He said, sauntering over to her and snaking his arms around her waist.

Taking a look around, he sees many different trinkets and items similar to what was in the shop. A lot of jars filled with different things, candles of all different colors, crystals, a broom (he didn’t realize witches actually had brooms but ok), among other things that he didn’t know the purpose of.

“Wait… how are there windows in here? I didn’t see any outside.” He asked, pulling back from the hug and looking at her.

“Well, there aren’t any windows in the alley. But there’s also a glamour spell on this building so nobody can see my apartment. That’s why you can’t see the door until I do the little thing you saw me do.” She answered. A sheepish smile broke onto his face.

“Oh,” he said and she laughed from her chest, petting a few fallen curls back from his forehead. She could get used to this, she thinks as she stares into his eyes, green as the forest and wide with wonder at everything he’s discovered today.

Who knew the girl he was falling in love with would be a witch… with actual powers.

* .

. * .

“Wait so, if no one can see your front door… how do you get mail?” Harry asked, reaching around Y/n for the salt.

“At the shop,”

“Oh,” He says. She laughs, kissing his cheek and continuing on cutting up veggies for the salad they're making.

“Have you always been able to do magic or was it something you grew into?” Y/n thought back to when she was little, remembering how she struggled to harness her powers for a few years before she started getting the hang of things.

“I always had powers, but imagic isn’t something you just wake up and know how to do so it took a while for me to really settle into and control. Magic is a skill, same as reading and writing, so I had to be taught and I had to work on it. Does that make sense?” She pauses while she explains, looking into his eyes. Harry nods, but his light hearted curious expression turns into one of embarrassment and she doesn’t understand why.

A rosy red color surrounds him, telling her he was feeling… embarrassed? Why did he feel embarrassed?

“Baby? What’s going through your head?” She asks, wanting to help him feel better.

She doesn’t like when he’s feeling anything other than happy!

“I just… I feel like I’m asking you so many questions about all of this stuff and it’s just tough to wrap my head around I guess.” She puts the knife down and sets her hand on his wrist, stopping from what he’s doing. She places her other hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to face her.

“Harry, this is a lot to take in, yeah? It’s not something you can just find out and move on from. It’s gonna take time to process. You’re gonna feel a lot of emotions, and that’s ok! I would be worried if you weren’t feeling a little off, as much as I hate that you’re not feeling 100%.”

She places a series of gentle pecks on his lips, doing her best to soothe him in any way.

“Ask all the questions you want! You don’t have to worry about being judged or saying something wrong, you have a right to be curious.” She feels him relax in her hold which in turn makes her relax.

“Thank you for being patient with me,”

He’ll get used to this, he thinks. He’ll get used to the fact that real witches actually exist, he’ll start to understand the words she mutters when she waves her hands, he’ll get it eventually. But right now, he doesn’t really get it, he’s not really used to it. But she’s worth it. She’s worth more than everything.

“I think you’re the one thing I know how to be patient with,” Again, she wants to mutter those three words on the tip of her tongue, but he’s already been through so much today, she doesn’t want to overwhelm him any more than he already is. So she’ll wait, because one day (hopefully soon) he’ll be ready to hear them.

“Can you do a spell? I kind of want to see how they work…” Harry asks after a moment of them just enjoying the silence that only really comes when two people understand each other.

She chuckles and nods, telling him she will show him a few spells after dinner. He agrees and they go back to making their meal, dancing around each other and laughing just like they always did and it felt good. Felt like this would be ok. Y/n was still scared because he could still decide to leave, that this was too much for him. That she was too much for him.

But for right now, things were ok.

* .

. * .

“Amoris et lux sum ego ipse, et carorum beatum facere potest, per potentiam solem et lunam, ut superius, et inferius.”

(I am love and light, I bring happiness to myself and my loved ones, By the power of the sun and moon, as above, so below)

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything weirder in his life...and his college roommate freshman year was a conspiracy theorist.

As Y/n spoke the words, she stirred a brew of tea infused with different herbs clockwise. He watched from beside her as she did this, his hand placed on her thigh so that his energy could be used in the spell along with hers.

Before she said the spell, she told him to set an intention and he had no idea what that was so she did a little lesson after reassuring him that his question was valid. (He’s still feeling insecure about not understanding anything she was talking about.) She told him to “close your eyes, take a deep breath, and clear your mind. Think of something you want in life that isn’t material.”

His immediate thought was that he wanted to spread kindness and love in the world (Y/n did her best not to tear up at her Flame’s pure intentions) so she nodded, telling him to think about that and only that, and set her intentions to the same thing so the spell would work. Mixing lavender, rose petals, and chamomile in a large mug, she pours in hot water to steep the herbs and, as previously mentioned, stirs it clockwise (something about clockwise being for manifestation), , rubs her palms together and snaps her fingers, and snuffs out the candles she had lit.

When all is said and finished, Y/n pulls Harry into a sweet kiss, and then has him take a sip of the tea telling him be careful my Love, it’s still hot. He kisses her back, taking a sip of the tea (he’d never been one for lavender things but this was actually really good. He wonders if it has anything to do with the fact that Y/n made it).

“So we just drink this and then what?” He asks, handing her the mug.

“We sacrifice an animal,” She says, not skipping a beat and taking her sip. Harry chokes on his spit, gasping for a breath of air before the girl bursts into a fit of giggles.

“I’m just kidding, baby. That’s it. That’s the whole spell. You just have to honestly believe it for it to work.” She says and he heaves a sigh of relief.

“Don’t joke like that!” He whines, more giggles escaping from Y/n’s throat.

“I’m sorry bub, I won’t do that anymore.” She says, still fighting off laughs. They continue to sip the tea, Y/n telling Harry about different things she did during the day.

Harry looked upon her as if she hung the moon just for him, and was telling him all about how she did it. Without even realizing it, he started to feel warmer and like a buzz was coursing through his veins.

“I feel weird…”

“What do you mean you mean you feel weird?” She voiced, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead and then feeling his pulse. Both were normal.

“I feel warm and like I’m buzzing… Kind of like I’m high…” He explained and she nodded her head, a small sigh of relief escaping her.

“That’s the spell working baby. You’re ok!”

“Oh, ok. It just worried me a little,”

“You’re ok! I want you to tell me when something worries you or feels different or off.” She says, and places a hand on his thigh. Harry agrees and they continue with their conversation.

When they both took their last sips on the tea, they cuddled up on the couch, an incense stick and candle lit on the coffee table.

Y/n sat, manipulating the smoke and flame simultaneously while Harry watched with a wide eyed gaze. She had explained how this was something he would be able to learn if he wanted to, and that she had been practicing for years to be able to do both things at the same time.

“I started when I was… I want to say 5. It’s a simple skill that promotes concentration. You have to stay extremely focused to even manipulate one element at a time. It’s only been these last few years that I’ve been able to concentrate enough to do both.” She explained, taking a break. As much as she loved showing Harry all these different things, it took a lot of energy out of her and it had already been a dreadfully long day.

“How about we go to sleep and I’ll show you more tomorrow? I’m pooped!” Harry hums an agreement, lifting his head from her lap and letting her lead the way to her bedroom.

Light lavender walls adorned with shelves full of plants and different nicknacks, and a desk with more candles, herbs, and other eclectic items sat atop it.

“What is all of this?” He sifts through all the things on the desk, not touching as Y/n had explained to him at some point today, I know you don’t have any ill intent, but a lot of this stuff absorbs other people's energy which can mess up what I use it for, so look and don’t touch. If you want a closer look, I’ll pick it up. There are different colored stones of varied shapes and sizes and many candles. One in particular catches his eyes. A green one with a very tall flame with something carved into the side of it. “What’s up with this green candle?”

“This is my altar, and the green candle is the one I have lit for you. I’m assuming that because you’re here, it’s going a little crazy. Nothing to be afraid of! I’m actually going to put it out since you’re here with me.” She explained quickly, reaching towards the flame with her finger and snuffing it out.

“Wait, you had a candle lit for me?” His eyes rounded, a shy smile coming onto his lips. An identical smile graced her features as she turned to look at him.

“Yeah, I’ve had one lit for you since the day we met. I made a sigil and carved it into the side and keep it lit day and night as an extra layer of protection for you.” She explained. Harry felt his heart melt at this.

She couldn’t get any cuter, he thinks.

A candle lit for him… to keep him safe. That’s adorable.

He leans in and places a gentle kiss on her lips, brushing the little hairs away from her face.

Y/n led him further into her room where her ensuite bathroom was, giving him a tooth brush and letting him know he could shower if he wanted to. When he came back into the room after getting ready, Y/n laid out on the bed in a sports bra and shorts. He just wore his boxers.

Climbing into bed next to her, she cuddled up to him right away, his arm finding a home around her body and her head laid on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“Been dreaming about this moment my whole life,” Y/n mumbled, cheek smushed against his skin, making her look all cute and cuddly. Harry had to hold back a coo at the sentiment.

“Me too Moppet, me too,” He sighed, and they both drifted off into warm, fluffy, dream-like states, wrapped in the safety of each other's arms.

* .

. * .

Walking down the street at night isn’t the best idea for normal women, Y/n had learned over her 22 years of life. But Y/n is not a normal woman. She’s a witch.

And while most women carry their keys between their knuckles and have tasers or pepper spray or mace at the ready, Y/n didn’t really need that. This was one of the only instances where she would use her magic to harm anyone. Like she’d said before- only when she’s put in danger (or someone else around her is put in danger).

So when a prick who reeks of whiskey starts tailing her, she waits for him to take the first blow. Waits for him to get a little too close, so she can turn around and unleash her wrath on him. All the while making it seem like it’s not her doing. Like causing a brink to fall off the roof above her and hit him in the head. She wouldn’t actually do that but a witch could dream.

No, she’ll trip him up without turning around and if he still insists on gaining her attention, she’ll spin around quick, flick her wrist and send him into an unconscious daze and let him sleep off his inebriation on the lovely warmth of the concrete sidewalk.

That’s exactly what she does.

“Hey sweetheart, where you goin’?” He slurs, beginning his trek behind her. She’s unresponsive which leads him to believe she’s playing hard to get because his fragile little man ego can’t fathom that a woman would ignore his attention.

“Oh c’mon baby don’t be like that!” He speeds up, already wobbling but this only serves to make him clumsier.

She does her thing, flicking her wrist in his direction (discreetly) so he trips, but this doesn’t stall him. He reaches out, effectively grabbing her arm. She whips around to face him, cheeks growing red hot with anger. Ripping her arm out of his grasp and twisting his arm around, she gets close to his face.

“Touch me again, I fucking dare you!” She snarls, doesn’t even realize her grip is burning into his flesh- her magic gets a little crazy when she’s mad. Releasing him (tossing his arm away from her in a rough manner), she flicks her wrist once again and mutters a quick “et obliviscere somnum*”, watching him fall to the ground, unconscious. She looked around to see if anyone was watching the scene go down but no one was sober enough to pay attention to some drunk bloke harassing a young woman.

*(forget and sleep)

She shakes off her frustration as she comes to a stop in front of an unfamiliar building. Where her Flame lives.

She had agreed to let him make her dinner at his house, so she packed an overnight back and made her way further into town. He had given her an address and while, yes she did use it, she also let their bond lead her to him. She just kind of knew where to go, it seemed. Harry had expressed that he felt something similar the first time he went into the shop, though he didn’t understand why he wanted to walk in- just felt like he had to.

Making her way up the stairs, she let’s Harry know she’s there, beginning to feel the familiar tingle rush down her spine. She hadn’t seen him for a week and a half since he's been busy with a project at work- a client wasn’t happy with all the work he and a coworker had done so they had to quickly re-do an entire proposal to meet the client's deadline. Needless to say- the little anti-anxiety jar she made him was coming in real handy lately. Y/n had also had him put citrine and amethyst points on his desk while he worked to help him focus and stay calm so he didn’t stress too badly.

She always had a little something to make his life easier, whether it be a stone, or a jar of different things (a spell jar, he’d learned), or whatever it may be- she always had something to help.

When she made it to his floor, he was standing there waiting for her with open arms. She ran to him, jumping into his arms and holding onto him tight.

“I missed you, my wild girl,” He muttered into her neck, spinning her around. Her face flushed without fail, her arms wrapping tighter around him.

“Missed you most,” She sighed, nuzzling into him.

“Don’t think that’s possible.”

She hummed in disagreement while he walked them inside, Y/n still wrapped around him like a koala bear. His house smelled of peach and mango. It’s sweet- just like him. The thought made her smile.

Giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek, she pulls back to have a look at his face, seeing he’s smiling like an idiot. It warms her heart to see him smile, butterflies breaking out of their cocoons and fluttering about her tummy.

“What’re you smiling for?” She voices, giggling at him.

“M’ happy you’re here,” He sighed, “Don’t like not seeing you.”

“I don’t like not seeing you either,” She frowned, petting his wild curls back and placing little pecks all around his face.

His cheeks flushed at her affection.

Harry set Y/n down on the kitchen counter, standing in between her legs, hands resting on her hips. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers lightly, before slotting them together, fully indulging himself in his girl. She responds immediately, letting her hands rest around his neck.

She will never not be amazed by how soft his lips are. Kissing him feels like floating through clouds, like laying down in bed after a long day on your feet. Kissing him is like the first breath of warm summer air after the longest winter. Kissing him feels like coming home.

Y/n’s heartbeat picks up as the kiss becomes more needy, leaning into him further. Harry pulls her closer, his hands ghosting up the bare skin under her shirt and fiddling with the band of the bralette she’s wearing. A gasp escapes her lips when he pulled the fabric up, letting it snap back to her skin causing a smirk to grow on his face- struggling to keep up with her lips.

He kisses her breathless before pulling away, watching as her eyes flutter open and she heaves air into her lungs, her cheeks flushed and supple.

“Don’t want the food to burn,” He smirks again, hands falling away from her body, moving the pots and pans on the stove around to the counter so he could plate their dinner.

“Asshole,” He hears her mutter.

Harry could get used to this, having Y/n around. Being able to come home to her, make them dinner, make out in the kitchen, fall asleep together. He can’t believe he ever thought he loved anyone before she came along. There was just no way. Y/n came into his life and took over every aspect and now he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. He hopes to the Stars he doesn’t have to.

Yeah, she’s got him praying to the stars now.

[mychemicalficrecs]

hi, i recently discovered your blog and i think it’s awesome!! i was wondering if you have any MCR fics that take place in the Paramour Mansion (that haunted place they stayed at while recording tbp, ya know?) any ship is fine really :) <3

Sorry for disappearing probably immediately after you found this blog, but I've got some fics for you at least? :'D Also thanks!

Some of these fics deal with heavy topics, please take care <3

The Paramour Mansion

Hour of the Wolf by jetblackmirror, Gen, 2k, Teen and Up. I can't wake up.

In The Walls by thesamefire, Gen, 72k, Teen and Up. When My Chemical Romance move into the Paramour, they get a lot more than they bargained for. All they want to do is write an epic album, but Mikey is falling apart and Gerard isn't sure what to do about it—or about the fact that they're trapped inside the house with no escape from the increasingly strange and terrible things that are happening to them.

Aquae by ourgossiplips, Gen, 1k, General. The Paramour is a living thing. Sometimes, when he’s asleep, Gerard can hear it breathing. In, out, in, out. It’s soft, it’s silent, and he wonders if he’s the only one who can hear it (if he’s going crazy).

Terror by letsrunawaytogether, Frank/Gerard, 2k, General. Gerard has another nightmare during the band's stay at the Paramour Mansion, but when he can't go back to sleep, help comes in the form of Frank Iero.

i only meant to do this to myself. by justlookthroughme, 273 words, Not Rated. Mikey is falling apart. Gerard just wants what's best for his brother. No one realizes Frank is halfway gone.

The Reverent Stillness in Your Throat by kiemitsu, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Not Rated. “I wish,” Gerard started, searching slowly for the right words, “I wish it were that simple for me.” “What?” “Your guitar,” he said, nodding to the guitar as he spoke, “I wish someone could just, I dunno, strum the strings and make me sing.” There was something like shame, like guilt in his confession. It was like he lost his heart to sing watching Mikey disappear behind the door. He hung his head, closing his eyes against the memory. Frank took the guitar from his lap and propped it up against the couch next to him, the pick still in his hand. He lifted Gerard’s chin with his fingers, searching for his eyes through his hair. “I could make you sing,” he said.

Beasts In Repose by Go0se, Gen, 10k, Teen and Up. They'd all heard the mansion was haunted, but the curse came as a surprise.

Famous Last Words by SaskiaK, 21k, Mature. The Paramour Mansion is not for the faint-hearted. Mikey recalls some of events that almost tore him apart

i'll never let them hurt you (i promise) by hidefromeveryone, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Mature. Mikey has left the Paramour Mansion, and the ghost of him is left behind. No one is dealing with it well, especially not Gerard.

Paramour by Merkey666, Mikey/Pete, 8k, Mature. Mikey is forced to leave Paramour due to health issues. Instead of going to rehab or anywhere else that would be a good idea, he goes to someone he hasn't spoken with in years. And yet Pete welcomes him anyway.

Night Terrors by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 717 words, Teen and Up. inspired by Sleep

Through It All by demolitioncorpses, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Teen and Up. After having a vivid dream of Frank's death, Frank coaxes Gerard through his panic attack. The two soon discover there may be more truth to specific events in the dream that could reflect reality.

Be With You Tonight by orphan_account, Gerard/Mikey, 906 words, Teen and Up. As long as Mikey has Gerard, everything will be alright.

Mansion Mania by gerardsjuarez, Frank/Gerard, 26k, Not Rated. “I - I saw a woman! In my room!” He panted, “She was staring at this portrait of - of… I think it was of herself! Oh my God, I hope she didn’t possess me.” “Ray, chill out.” Bob came to the defenses. “No! You guys gotta help me get that picture of her outta my room. I think that’s what she was after.” He pointed at the object in question. Gerard leaned forward to look at the portrait. It was a pretty woman with a 20s style haircut, black hair, and bright blue eyes. She wore a dinner dress in a bright shade of red. She appeared to be staring into his soul, the shiver down his back told him. Everyone silently agreed that the painting had to go. It was Bob and Gerard who moved it to a vacant room. He stared at the painting long after Bob left to join the others. On the frame, a date and name were engraved just under the woman. “Emily Richard, 1925.” He read aloud.

cover me in gasoline by folieahdude, Frank/Gerard, 1k, Teen and Up. Art’s been sucking the life out of him. Frank notices it in the purple circles around his eyes and the way his breath hitches every time he finishes another lettering and glues it to the wall. It’s sucking the life out of him and yet— yet, it’s what’s keeping him alive.

The Paramour by HeavenlyMess, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Teen and Up. The band has just arrived to the Paramour Mansion, and they heard the stories... so they try to communicate with the ghosts, and it goes wrong...

[krappykawa]

ಌ i mildly like you more than like (p.1)

— in which an incessant fan girl, a kiss, and a little bit of denial makes oikawa tooru realize he might mildly like you more than like

description. you’ve been in love with oikawa tooru for longer than you can remember. having known him for the better part of nearly 11 years, you’ve come to accept that you’ll never be more than a best friend to him. but with the help of a few irritatingly persistent fangirls and a kiss that was only meant to drive them away, a tale of unrequited love might just prove to be something more. 

warnings. language

word count. 4.2k

oikawa tooru x f!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, some angst

parts. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

author’s note. i started writing this a few weeks ago and it was originally just going to be a one-shot but it got almost up to 10k words so i just decided to split it up HHSKFJ

Oikawa Tooru has perhaps one of the strongest drives when it comes to hard work. 

His tenacity is a thing of nature, something that awes you time and time again, no matter how many times you’ve seen him pick himself up before. It might be one of the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. 

But despite how in-tune he is with his senses on a mental standpoint, his Achilles’ heel lies with his inability to pick up on the signs his body gives him when it's had enough. Well, he can, but he just chooses not to listen. 

His first encounter with a crack in that heel came in his first-year, where you had to stand on the sidelines and watch as he fell to the ground during a game with a resounded sweep of gasps around the gym. That injury benched him for more than half the season. 

It was from that point on that you and Iwaizumi decided that if Oikawa wasn’t going to take care of his own body, then it would be up to you two to make sure his head is still above water. 

So it doesn’t surprise you when your phone flashes with a text message from Iwaizumi during one of your shifts at the bakery. 

1 new message: iwa (´,,•ω•,,)♡

Received: can you come pick up shittykawa

“Tooru?” 

A figure sits slumped against the benches in front of Aoba Johsai high, his eyes closed as he lays back. There’s something beautiful about the way that he looks almost ethereal in this relaxed state, the most relaxed you’d seen him in months. When he hears his name from your lips, he slowly blinks and sits up, the aura of relaxation falling from him. 

You almost regret having said anything in the first place when he puts up his guard the moment he sees you.

“Y/N-chan!” An easy smile falls between his lips, one that could’ve easily fooled anyone else. He always was very good at portraying happiness and contentment, especially when he’d been followed everywhere by people that only really want to see Oikawa Tooru, popular ladies’ man with charm that could make your mother swoon. 

But you’re one of the select few that knew him before he learned that his charm was a crucial asset in his arsenal. You knew him at his highs and his lows, so the convincing smile on his lips doesn’t convince you in the slightest. That’s because you notice the way his arms seem to sit limply in his lap and the way his eyes convey fatigue rather than joy. You also know that Iwaizumi called you here for one thing. 

“Don’t Y/N-chan me. Iwa texted me.” 

Oikawa’s facade seems to fall at that, replaced with a troubled expression. He brings his right hand up to wipe at his face in frustration. “Listen, I don’t know what he may have said, but he’s exaggerating. I’m fine.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He can’t seem to meet your eyes. “Well, that’s a lie considering that you’re out here right now and not in that gym,” you say matter-of-factly. 

“He physically dragged me out here!” Oikawa whines, throwing his hands in the direction of your school’s gym. 

A bemused chuckle leaves your lips as you move to sit beside him on the bench. Oikawa moves his bag to give you more room to sit, but you don’t move any closer. “And when has that ever stopped you?”

Oikawa getting kicked out of practice by Iwaizumi and even on select days, by their coach, is not an unusual occurrence. Iwaizumi has forcefully dragged Oikawa out of the gym before. Each and every time, Oikawa just marched right back in, despite Iwaizumi’s rage and his coach’s warnings. Even when his extra practice hours cause detrimental effects to his knee, Oikawa never seems to back down. 

It was something both you and Iwaizumi had grown used to in your years of friendship with Oikawa -- his incredibly stubborn determination to somehow work himself to the point of bad health. 

That’s how you know something different has happened today, because Oikawa is sitting out here on a bench rather than arguing with Iwa about how “a few more serves won’t hurt him!” (though they most definitely do, and Oikawa never seems to learn). 

You turn your head to look at him. He’s quiet now, though he still doesn’t meet your eyes. His gaze is instead focused on a dog that’s running in the park opposite the school. You know that he’s avoiding confirming your accusation. 

When it doesn’t seem like he’s going to talk anytime soon, you sigh. “All I’m saying is that if you really believed that you were fine, you would be using all your blood, sweat, tears in order to find a way back into the gym. Especially since the qualifiers are coming up.” You lean back against the bench as well, letting your eyes watch the dog happily run with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. “But instead you’re here, sitting on a bench in the afternoon. And from the looks of it, you had no intention of heading home.” 

He still doesn’t turn to look at you, the only indication that he even heard you is the mild tick in his jaw. You try not to think about how perfectly sculpted his side profile is.  

When he finally does speak, he still avoids your accusation of his fatigue and instead asks, “Why did Iwa-chan call you here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be working at the bakery?”

You shrug. “Business was slow. Besides, my boss likes me enough to let me go early today. He said I’d have to work overtime this weekend though.” 

At that, he finally turns to look at you. In the split second that you glance at him, you catch the guilt in his gaze before he looks away again. “You shouldn’t have come. You already overwork yourself being the only decent baker besides your boss that works there.”

A smile spreads on your face, your tone teasing. “Oikawa Tooru wants to talk to me about overworking myself?”

“I’m serious. You work too hard at that bakery for the measly amount that they pay you. Don’t think I don’t notice the way you try to cover your under eye circles with makeup.”

You feel your stomach jump, the familiar feeling causing your lips to tug upwards lightly. Tooru has been one of your best friends ever since you moved into the house across from his when you were seven years old. You hadn’t known when it happened, but you had come to school one day last year and just suddenly knew that your feelings were no longer limited to platonic when it came to the brown-haired volleyball captain. It’s in moments like these where you wonder how he hasn’t managed to figure your feelings out, considering how observant he is of everything else about you. 

“Yes, well I’m sorry that we can’t all look like we spawn from a god like you do. It’s seriously unfair how you can still look like that when you get even less sleep than I do.”

There’s only a hint of teasing in his voice when he says, “You think I look that handsome?” He turns to face you again, and this time there’s a blink of surprise lurking in his chestnut eyes. Especially now, with the sun casting golden glows on his hair and skin, he looks beautiful to you. 

Painfully, it reminds you about how unrequited your feelings are. Not that Oikawa has ever outright rejected you or even acknowledged knowing anything of your feelings, but him reciprocating your feelings didn’t even cross your mind as a possibility most days. Not with the group of girls that are always vying for his attention; not when his ex-girlfriend was what everyone thought was his perfect match; not when he hadn’t even attempted a committed relationship since Yua-san broke up with him all those months ago.

“Y/N?” His voice drags you out of your train of thought. You realize that you had been staring at him this entire time. 

You play off your thoughts with a roll of your eyes and turn your head back towards the park. “No,” you lie. “I just hear comments like that from your fan club all the time.” 

He nods lightly, his eyebrows creasing. “Right. Right, of course.” You’re about to ask about the odd tone in his voice when he speaks again. “You never did answer my question. Why did Iwa-chan send you here?”

“He wanted me to make sure that you actually went home instead of finding somewhere else to practice,” you say. A chuckle escapes your lips. You’re happy for the change in topic. 

“I am not that hard-headed!” You raise a brow at him. He pouts. “Fine. Maybe a little.”

“A little?”

“Oh come on, Y/N. Now you’re just being mean!”

“Yeah well, it’s payback. You’re a real pain in the ass.”

“In your ass, I hope.” 

You try to keep the blush from your cheeks as your mind takes you in a completely different direction. Suddenly, the space between you two seems too small. “You might want to rethink what you just said.” You try not to stare at his mouth as it falls open, your mind still invading your thoughts with images that you should not be fantasizing about when he’s sitting right beside you. 

“Wait.” Oikawa’s eyes go so comically wide that you almost forget your own embarrassment. “Jeez, that did not come out in the right way. Not right at all.” For what seems like the millionth time, he looks away from you, though this time it seems to be out of his own mortification over what he just said. There seems to be a blush to his cheeks, but you very well might have just imagined it. 

You let out a laugh, your arms coming up to clutch at your side. “I cannot believe that you’re supposed to be the big hotshot volleyball player that every girl has a crush on. There is not a charming bone in your body. I refuse to believe it.”

Oikawa lets out a small chuckle. “I don’t have to charm you when you already love even the uncharming parts of me. But if anyone asks, I am completely perfect. There are no uncharming parts to Oikawa Tooru. Don’t you dare spread false rumors, Y/N-chan!”

An amused snort leaves you at his last three sentences, but you decide to respond on the first part of his words. “Me? Loving you? Very unlikely.” You tease, trying your hardest to keep a straight face when Oikawa begins to pout. 

“If you don’t love me after all these years I will actually start crying right now and then those girls that follow me everywhere will come for your blood for making me cry.”

You chuckle again, catching yourself before you roll your eyes again. Next to you, Oikawa has his arms crossed with a convincing pout sitting on his lips that makes him look like a child. You smile despite yourself. “Okay, okay keep the dramatics to a minimum.”

“Then say it.”

“Say what?

“Say that you love me.”

You feel a small pang as you plaster a smile on your face. “I mildly like you more than like,” you say, not really sure if you’d be able to say those three words to him at this point in time. Not when you know that they’re true.

Oikawa’s pout deepens, but you’re adamant on not saying more. 

“That’s all you’re getting from me, Crappykawa.” Suddenly you find yourself amused at the way you managed to sound exactly like Iwaizumi. It hadn’t occurred to you that you’d spent so much time with him.

“Call me pretty and I’ll drop it.”

“You’re so needy sometimes, you know that?”

“Very much aware, Y/N-chan. As if you and Iwa-chan would ever let me forget.”

An eye roll comes easy to you and this time you don’t try to stop it. At this point, an eye roll is almost like a natural reaction to anything Oikawa says. “Fine. I’ll admit you’re not bad too look at.”

“Not great, but I’ll take it,” he concludes. “I can slowly feel the crack in my ego being restored.”

“If you want to be complimented please go seek out the never-ending stream of girls and guys that come your way hoping for even an ounce of your attention.” You hope that he doesn’t notice the mild bitterness in your voice. “I’m almost positive that they’ll be willing to tell you just how pretty you are and how everyone in the world should be in love with you.”

“They should be, shouldn’t they?” Oikawa bemuses.

A laugh leaves your lips despite your efforts. “You are insufferable sometimes. I don’t understand why I’ve kept you around for so long.”

“There you go with the insults again,” he tskes. “Have you and Iwa-chan been spending time together without me?” 

“Iwa and I are friends you know?”

“Yeah but you’re supposed to be my best friend,” he pouts. 

“You already said that line to Iwaizumi yesterday when he opted to carry me instead of you.”

“Yeah, well … I met you before he did!”

“Because you threw a volleyball at my head!”

“It was an accident!”

Laugher spills from both of your lips at the memory. It isn’t until Oikawa’s hair brushes upon your shoulder during his laughter that you realize that the space between you and Oikawa had increasingly gotten smaller. He’s so close that your thighs are only centimeters apart. 

As your laughter dies down, Oikawa’s bubbly personality begins to slip once more and the fatigue on his face becomes more evident. Eventually, he rests his head on your shoulder. You feel your stomach flutter pleasantly at his proximity. Even now, you can smell the cologne he regularly wears, the one you helped pick out back in first-year that he’s worn ever since. 

Once the silence lasts for a few moments, you finally attempt to ask him about practice once more. “Are you finally going to tell me why you didn’t fight back when Iwa threw you out of practice?” 

He sighs. “I guess you can say that I’m a little bit tired. Plus my knee hurts like all hell has reigned down.” His voice is so much different from just moments before that it’s hard to believe that they come from the same person. 

“You’re exhausted,” you say. It’s not a question, but more of a definite statement. 

“More or less,” he responds quietly. 

This time, it’s you that sighs. “Just … be careful. I get that you want to beat everyone and go to Nationals, but you’re no good to your team if you fuck your knee up so badly that you can’t play.”

“This year is our last chance,” he mumbles. “I just don’t want to look back later and wish that maybe I’d practiced just a little more.”

“You can’t beat anyone if you’re sitting on the bench from an injury that you got from overworking yourself.”

Oikawa winces at the tone in your voice. You almost feel guilty. Almost. 

“You’re going to work yourself to death. Iwaizumi and I aren’t just going to stand by and watch you dig your own grave,” you say softly. “For his sake, at least. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’ll try,” he says. For some reason, you believe him.

The two of you sit there in silence once more, the wind blowing lightly on your hair and the sounds of a busy town echoing around you. You wish that you could bottle this moment up and keep it with you forever, even if it’s only a testament to how much Oikawa values you as a best friend and nothing more. 

The thought makes your stomach drop in the slightest bit. It’s usually easy to contain your depth of feelings for Oikawa when the air around you two is lively and joking, but you’ve found over the years that quiet moments like these are the ones that really tear at your heart. 

He’ll never know the extent of your feelings for him, and you’re too afraid to wonder what would happen if he did know. 

Oikawa turns his head only slightly to look up at you while still continuing to lean on your shoulder. “You okay?” 

You give an almost imperceptible nod. “We should head home. I don’t know what Iwaizumi might do to you if he finds you out here after practice ends,” you say. 

Oikawa nods and detaches his head from your shoulder. 

The two of you have only walked a couple of meters when you hear a group of girls squeal from not too far away. Oikawa tenses from beside you. 

“Your fanclub found you,” you say.

“I’m aware.”

He doesn’t make any move to look back at them or stop. Instead, his pace seems to speed up. 

You furrow a brow. “You don’t want to talk to them? Thought you loved their attention?”

“Ouch. You really know how to wound a man, Y/N-chan,” he says with a small smile on his lips. You take notice of the weariness in his features. “But while I do enjoy them feeding my very justified ego, I am far too fatigued to deal with them.”

You nod and continue to walk beside him. The less interactions he has with his fan club, the better your mood will be. Besides, you weren’t going to fail Iwaizumi by not doing the one thing he asked you to do and not take Oikawa home. 

A giggle reaches your ears once more, and you sneak a glance behind you. The girls are talking amongst themselves, but still obviously walking in the direction you’re headed in. 

“Well, what do you wanna do? Cause they’re coming.”

Oikawa sighs and you notice a tick of irritation in his clenched jaw. You can see a million thoughts going through his mind, but before you can ask him about them, he reaches out to grab your hand.

“Is this okay? I’m just hoping that they’ll leave me alone if they think that you and I … uhm.”

Oikawa’s hands are long and calloused, but they feel nice as his fingers intertwine with your smaller ones. You try hard not to let the little gesture get to you. “Yeah … yeah of course.”

The two of you fall into silence again, mostly due to his fatigue and your inability to form coherent words that don’t have to do with his hand in yours. You’ve held hands with Oikawa before, but it was never with the intent to make you two look like a couple. You wish more than anything that he would break the silence before you blurt out something that you don’t want to. 

Your wishes are answered when Oikawa asks, “They’re still following us, aren’t they?” Oikawa still doesn’t look back as he says it.

In your short reverie you had forgotten about the girls behind you. You sneak another glance at them and find that Oikawa’s assumption is correct.

“Yeah, they are.”

Oikawa makes an incoherent noise. “Y/N-chan, could you be a dear and describe what they look like? I have a feeling I know who exactly they are.”

You turn back again, and really take a good look at them. They’re pretty. Really pretty, you think. You wonder for a second what they could’ve done to make Oikawa so adamant on not speaking with them. 

“There’s three girls. One with cropped red hair, one with long blonde hair, and one with brown hair in a high ponytail.”

“Oh, it’s them again. I don’t know what to do to get them to leave me alone at this point,” he sighs. 

“Who are they? What’s going on?”

His grip on your hand tightens. “Ichika-san and her friends. She sent me a love letter about a month ago. I tried to let her down easily, but it seems that she has yet to give up.”

“This girl is your stalker?”

“Not quite. At least, I hope not.”

The noise from behind you two gets increasingly louder. A giggle echoes on the mildly empty street and you catch Oikawa’s name being whispered between their conversations. Now that you’ve found out about what they’ve been putting him through, your annoyance spikes. 

“Not to sound paranoid or anything, but I’m not keen on these girls finding out where you live.” 

Oikawa is quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed in indecision. It seems that he makes up his mind when he turns his head to look at you. “Kiss me.”

Your step momentarily falters. 

“What?”

He shakes your intertwined hands. “We’re already holding hands. They might get the memo if we …”

“Oh.”

“I .. I mean only if you want to. You don’t have to. I just figured that .. nevermind. It’s a spotty plan. They might still not leave us alone and --”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” You weren’t going to pass up a chance at kissing him, even if it’s only for a diversion. This doesn’t seem like such a bad idea anyways — you’d long since given up on him reciprocating your feelings, and this way you can kiss him while saving yourself from the possible embarrassment of rejection. 

“You will?”

“Where’s the harm? It’s just a kiss right?” You can barely hear yourself talking over the beating of your heart. “Besides, it could work.”

Oikawa shoots you a grateful smile. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready then.”

You try to shake out your nerves and instead focus your time in looking at your surroundings. The sound of giggling is still in close range when you spot a tree nearby. It’s still pretty out in the open, but not so much that you and Oikawa might draw stares, at least not from anyone that isn’t a part of the group of girls behind you. 

Gathering enough courage to not insanely mess this up, you tug on Oikawa’s hand to drag him with you in the direction of the tree. You make sure that you’re still in the line of sight of the three girls when you snake your arms around Oikawa’s neck and pull him down. 

His lips are softer than you imagined, and you’ve imagined kissing them more times than you’re willing to admit. Pleasantly, he tastes like oranges, which you don’t quite understand, considering that you can’t seem to remember him ever being fond of oranges. But then again, you can’t quite think of anything besides the feeling of his lips on yours.

Your lips move fluidly against his, soft but not entirely without passion. It takes everything in you to not kiss him with the force that you want to be kissing him with. 

Hands come down to grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him, gently placing a hand on the small of your back. You run your hands through his hair and wonder to yourself why you hadn’t ever played with his hair before. If you ever make it out of this with your senses still intact, you’d make playing with his hair a part of your regular routine.

He makes a small noise against your lips when you make the mistake of pulling a little too hard on his hair. His grip on you tightens. 

You don’t know how long you two stand there, lips locked with each other, but Oikawa doesn’t make any move to pull away. Instead he deepens the kiss by running his tongue against your bottom lip and pulling you even closer. You stifle a noise that threatens to come from deep in your throat. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek and tips your head so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth. He has fantastic lips, you think. 

It’s only until you feel the air in your lungs begin to dwindle that you force yourself to pull away. The kiss lasted for longer than you expected, and by the way you pant with every breath, it feels like a kiss that the rest of the world should not have been privy to. 

You keep your eyes closed for a moment more, wanting to savor the moment for just a little longer. The moment you open your eyes, you’ll have to come back to the reality that this was just a one-time thing. You’ll have to come back to reality and remember that this kiss likely doesn’t mean anything to him. 

Slowly you open your eyes, and find that Oikawa’s already staring at you intently. His breathing comes out staggered, and his eyes have turned a few shades darker. What used to be a soft chestnut brown looks almost close to black. In them, you notice a flicker of an odd emotion that looks too familiar, but you don’t want to hope for anything. 

You slide your hands down to his chest. His hands are still planted on your back and face, touching you both gently and carefully. “Did it work?” Your voice comes out small.

He seems to wake up from his trance then, and turns to look in the direction that the girls were before. You look behind you to see one of the girls running away with her head in her hands. Her two friends follow after her in an attempt to console her.

“I think it did,” he says. And what he says after is so quiet you almost believe that you imagine hearing it. “In more ways than one.”

part two will most likely be up on thursday next week :)

[atsukashii]

❝remember me❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS: ➛ you bought something forbidden from the universe, and now you must pay the consequences of buying yourself a soulmate

» CHARACTER PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x reader

» WORD COUNT: 10k

» GENRE: guardian angel au, ANGST with no happy ending

» WARNINGS: major character death, blood, violence

« masterlist || ao3 »

From the moment your eyes had first met a pair of red vermillion ones, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had seen them before. That you had witnessed a volume of different emotions swirling inside those irises before, but you could never put your finger on where you had seen them. 

In fact, your fascination with his eyes wasn’t even on the top of the list when it came to your unusual relationship with Katuski Bakugou. You had met as children through your parents and had bared witness as he grew from a confident boy into a sometimes arrogant but determined man, ready to take on the world and bleed for it. To his brash and explosive nature, you were the quiet calm that washed over his bones, soothing his balms with just your presence. His quirk caused destruction if not used properly, and yours healed. You wouldn’t classify your relationship as friends when you were younger, it always seemed to run deeper. 

You often knew what he was thinking before he even moved to do it. You knew his tendencies, his mannerisms, you knew him inside and out, and he knew all there was to know about you. Katsuki Bakugou knew what set you off, what made you tick. He knew you almost as well as you knew yourself. You were polar opposites in every sense of the word, yet somehow were constantly drawn to each other.

And as you grew, your relationship with him evolved as well. 

Entering U.A. had been a turning point in both of your lives. He had been hailed as a hothead, arrogant, and you the protege of the famous recovery girl for your incredibly strong healing quirk. The two of you really couldn’t be more different.

However, you were still drawn to each other by a force that you couldn’t explain. Always conscious of the other person's whereabouts, of their thoughts and their feelings. You both were on a different wavelength than all the other students.

Often, the two of you were mistaken to be dating, and you never bothered to correct someone when they mentioned it because what you felt for Katsuki Bakugou, it was definitely love, but it was something else too. 

Rolling over on your bed, you look up to the ceiling and rest your arms above your head. Another sleepless night, one of many recently, where you have been pulled from sleep by dreams so vivid they tugged at an empty space in your memory with such tenacity, you woke to a sob begging to leave your lips. You want to sleep, you need the rest, knowing that tomorrow you have a day of full training with Recovery Girl. But it just doesn’t come. 

Giving up, you rise from your bed and walk towards your balcony, swiftly opening the door with a silent hiss. The full moon casts the world alight outside, and you sit onto the old chair you had forced your friends to help drag up here in your first year. With your blanket from your bed, you settle into the chair and let your eyes close as a gentle breeze washes over you. Maybe, just maybe out here, you can get some sleep. 

A man's laugh echoes around you, so happy and full of life, you spin in your spot trying to find the source. But the noise teases you, becoming so loud it begins to make your ears ring. The noise pounding harshly against your eardrums, as if to engrain the sounds into your mind. Covering your ears with your hands, you fall to your knees, expecting a sharp pain from the fall, you close your eyes, but there’s nothing. The sound is gone, there’s nothing but a gentle breeze that brushes across your cheekbones. Opening your eyes, the bright light covering everything around you has faded until you’re standing in the middle of a field, a very old Japanese style house sits far in front of you, the lights on and laughter coming from inside it. Cautiously, you weave through the grains of wheat, following a tug in your chest and a voice in your head that says ‘Yes, go there, that is what you seek.’ 

When you get close enough to hear the quiet music, you pause in your steps, looking at the two faceless figures inside the house. They stand in the kitchen, one dancing around whilst the other just laughs. You don’t know who they are, but you’ve never seen two people so happy. Dancing and laughing whilst preparing food, it felt so dreamlike, yet something screamed at you that this was real. 

Your warring thoughts quiet as something gently flutters in front of your eyes before landing on your nose. Turning your head to the sky, falling snow begins to cover the world in gentle flurries that make you immediately feel at peace. The clouds block out the moon and every bit of light, until the world is wrapped in darkness and all you can hear is the laughter from the people as you fall. 

You open your eyes, your chest heaving as your brain becomes foggier than before. A sob is threatening to bubble from your lips, and you sit up from your position as if that will help. You rub at your chest as you bite back the cry from your lips. Your heart aches as if you’re mourning the dream, but you can’t make out why. 

“You’re going to catch a cold out here dumbass.” Your eyes move from your feet to the vermillion red pair on the balcony next to yours, and you let out a shiver at his gaze.

“Well at least I got some sleep out here. I couldn't get any inside.”

“You weirdo.” he grumbles, but you know Katsuki is watching you carefully. “Are you having those dreams again?” 

“Recovery girl thinks it may be a side effect of my quirk. That by healing people, when they are at their most vulnerable, I somehow gain access to a bit of their mind or soul, or something like that.” You explain what you had told him time and time again after you had let it slip that you were unable to sleep because of vivid dreams. 

“That would explain how realistic the dreams are, but it still makes no sense.” 

“What time is it?”

“Two thirty-three.” Katsuki answers and you let out a groan. You had only managed to sleep for an hour. Fantastic. For a moment you stand in silence on your balconies, just taking everything in and appreciating each other's presence.

“I’m going to say this just once, so listen close. Do you need help?” To anyone else, you suppose it would come across as Bakugou being rude, but as you look at him, and see the genuine concern buried deep in his eyes, you know his intentions are anything but malicious. 

“Would you?”

“You don’t even need to fucking ask.” With effortless grace, Bakugou places his foot on the railing before clearing the gap between your two rooms, his feet quickly touching the floor of your own balcony. Without waiting or you Katsuki trudges inside, expecting you to follow, before climbing into your bed. You follow suit with no hesitation, cuddling up to the blonde’s side and resting your cheek to his chest, appreciating the way it rises and falls with every breath. 

“Thank you Bakugou,”

“Just don’t fucking mention it.” He replies, closing his eyes and letting you sleep against him. Since you were children, you were constantly plagued with the inability to sleep. However, Bakugou seemed to be a remedy for that, where you would only nap when on playdates, and when you were old enough to approach the topic with him, he had taken it with no anger or annoyance. He truly was a different person with you. Everyone had noticed but never mentioned it with fear of facing his wrath. And you are glad because to try and explain the connection that the two of you seem to share, you simply can’t, and you don’t think you will ever be able to. 

“We have a briefing tomorrow, apparently the rise in villain activity has the teachers freaking out. They’re bringing us to explain what's going on.”

“Do you think we will have to fight?” You manage to bring yourself to ask. Whether he notices the nervous tremor in your voice at the idea of your friends going into war or not, you aren’t completely sure, but Bakugou gently plays with a strand of your hair as he stares at the ceiling. 

“Yeah, I do. Not that you’ll be the one beating up the bad guys.” He says, but he doesn’t deny the fact that you wouldn’t be on the front lines. Because if a war was to break out, you will be. With your healing quirk as strong as it is, you could be the turning point between winning and losing a fight. 

“I hope that it's all not real.”

“A part of me hopes for that too.” Bakugou admits. He looks down at you and gently cups your cheek, knowing you are unable to hide the fear on your face, and even if you were able to, he would see it. He always does. 

“I’m scared Katsuki.” There's a vulnerability in his eyes as he slowly tilts his head and places his lips to yours in a whisper of a kiss. Immediately shocks erupt across your skin making every single hair on your arms raise in alarm. You head dizzies and you gently grip his shirt to steady yourself to the moment. When he pulls back and you get another glimpse of those ruby eyes, shock rolls through you at the expression in them. There’s fear in his eyes, and you’ve never seen it before. 

“Me too, but nothing is going to happen to either of us. I won’t fucking allow it.” He grumbles before rolling onto his side and bringing you closer. Somewhere along the way, the two of you fall asleep, and then rise again when the noise of people coming from the common room is too hard to ignore. 

                        +   +   +   +   

The mood was somber as everyone disbanded from the meeting room. Instinctively, you reach for the person beside you and grab their hand. Bakugou doesn’t question it as he threads his fingers through yours, and gives your hand a squeeze. 

Tomorrow, they would organise a offensive strike against the currently known base of the League of Villains. The outcome was expected to fall into a full on war, which is why it was crucial to make the first move. You had felt the confidence radiating off the pro’s in the meeting, as if to hide their nerves from the students who will be taking part in the mission as well. The world would be different after tomorrow, and you weren’t completely sure if you were ready for that outcome.

Looking up, you see Katsuki watching Endeavour speak with Aizawa down the end of the hall, his careful gaze picking up every small movement and action. You must have watched him long enough for him to notice, and he turns his gaze to you. 

“Why are you staring at me?” He growls at you, but there's no true bite. You don’t really have an answer for him, so instead you voice your unease. 

“Everything is going to change tomorrow, isn’t it?” The words don’t make the pressure on your chest any easier to handle, if anything, they cause your thoughts to cloud as urgency fills your blood. 

“Probably. We’re going to take out those fucking bastards and the world will be better for it. We’ll be fine angel face.” He says looking down at you before dragging you out of the building and back towards the dorms.

You hope Bakugou is right, but something inside you screams that nothing good will come from tomorrow. And even though you won’t be taking part in the combat, you will be there on the front lines supplying support and healing who you can. 

One more time, you glance up at Bakugou and decide that you will do everything within your power to help make sure that everything goes right tomorrow.

                                  +   +   +   +   

You’re in hell.

Your bones groan under the pressure as you place your hands against the pro hero’s shoulder/ The wound instantly begins to close, and you ignore the emerging burning pain from your own shoulder as you use your quirk. You have trained to be able to withstand large amounts of pain, and your healing quirk was stronger then a lot of others, making you a saviour to the school and today. 

“Y/n, we need your help over here!” You turn your head at Izuku’s voice and gasp as you see him carrying an unconscious Shouto over his shoulder. You get up from the now healed man and race to your friends. You notice what he’s cut up quite badly, but by simply placing your hand on him, you can see the broken ribs, one threatening to pierce his lung. 

“Lay him down.” You say, stepping back. Once Midoriya places Shouto on the floor, you put your hands on his chest and begin to use your quirk, a faint light emitting from your hands as you do so. You take the time to look over Izuku for any injuries, but other than some cuts and bruises he seems to be okay.

It’s only when Shouto lets out a groan and opens his eyes that you let yourself breathe out a sigh of relief. Izuku watches you for a moment before speaking and basically reading your mind. 

“We were taken by surprise from a stray group of villains. Kacchan and I managed to apprehend most of them, but one with a strength quirk basically threw Todoroki through a building, so we decided it was best to fall back for the moment.” He explained and Shouto suddenly let out a groan from between you, opening his eyes and you immediately let out a breath of relief. However it doesn’t last long as his hoarse voice breaks the peace. 

“Where’s Bakugou?” He asks, and your heart drops through your chest. That's right, the three of them are supposed to be in a group. You look from Shouto’s worried gaze and back to Izuku who spins around the makeshift medical hospital. But you already know, he’s not here.

“He was right behind us, I swear-” You don’t even stop to think of what you're doing, your body just begins to move on your own. Ignoring the multiple protests, you sprint out of the building, mentally tugging on that connection deep inside your chest, until you can almost hear it. 

This way. This way.

Hurry.

You have never questioned the feeling once in your life, and you don’t start now. Your legs scream from the overuse of your quirk as you run through rubble and across collapsed structures. But not once do you stop. You have to find him, and something tells you that you need to do it quickly. There's suddenly an explosion from what feels like right beside your head, that has you being thrown back multiple feet. You hit the ground hard and for a moment, the words spin. Your ears ring as you blink your eyes rapidly, trying to focus your balance again. 

Get up. Get up. With shaking hands, you push yourself into a sitting position and try to stop the world from spinning. You try to stare at something to focus your gaze, but a flash of black and orange catches your eyes instead. Standing only a few yards away, is a very bloody Bakugou, with a snarling face and small explosions popping from his hands. 

You can’t make out what he’s saying, but you can see that his leg is very broken, and his hands… he’s overused his quirk so much he’s bleeding. There’s a rumble from beneath your feet, and you watch in horror as the building behind you both begins to crumble, and standing directly in its wake, unable to move, stands Bakugou.

Horror pulses through your veins at sight, and you are on your feet in seconds. One second, you’re running towards the blonde, and the next your feet aren’t even touching the ground and you’re moving faster than you ever thought possible as a dull pain explodes from between your shoulder blades. You reach Katsuki in seconds, grabbing him as you fly past where the building will fall, feeling the gust of air and dust as debris begins to hit the ground where he once stood. By the time you crash into the ground, you’re out of the destruction zone, but not yet out of danger. 

Groaning at your aching body as you open your eyes again, you can’t see anything because of the dust whipping around through the air, and white feathers. You follow the trail of feathers until your senses acknowledge the weighty wings now emerging from either side of your spine. You have wings? Your thoughts are cut off as you finally see the person on the floor a few feet from you. “Bakugou?” You croak. You can barely walk, but you force your legs to move towards the lying figure. He groans at his name, but that groan quickly becomes a cough that splutters ruby droplets onto the grey floor next to him.

“Katsuki!” By the time you reach his side, you don’t know where to look first, or where to heal first. A large wound cover’s his abdomen and you know deep down, it's fatal. But you can stop it, you can save him. 

“You’re not dying on me okay, Just- just keep looking at me okay?” Tears stream down your cheeks as you try not to sob. With a painful cry, he opens his eyes and you give him a soft smile as those red vermillion orbs you love so much meet your own. 

“That’s it, just keep looking at me. It’s all going to be okay.”

Do not fail him. Not again.

Placing your hands against his wound, you feel his warm blood cover your fingers, but you push your quirk into your hands, diving deep into the pit of power inside your chest as fast as you can. Normally, quick healing can cause you to pass out, but you don’t care about repercussions as you look down at Bakugou. You know without a doubt that he is the love of your life, that the connection you have to him basically made it that way, but your heart did the rest. He’s the love of your life, and you won’t let him die. Not when you can do something to stop it. 

Slowly, his wounds begin to stitch back together, and the bleeding begins to slow. With a painful growl, his red vermillion eyes look up at you, pure shock swirling inside them. 

“Y/n?” The light slows from your hands and for a moment you’re blinded. “What did you do?” You feel nothing at first.  

Then the pain hits you like a sledgehammer. You cough as you fall forwards, your body collapsing beneath your weight. A hand catches you as you fall, stopping your descent for a second. You are turned so you can see the sky, and a dirty, bruised and battered Bakugou kneels over you. 

“Y/n!” He’s shouting at you, but you can barely move to reply. More blood leaves your mouth, the taste of copper being the only thing you can taste. You’re so weak. So weak. Bakugou holds onto you, frantically looking over you, as if trying to find a way to fix you. But he can’t. This is how it’s supposed to be, the voice inside your head says, and for some reason you feel content with the outcome. You may have sacrificed yourself, but to let Bakugou live. It was meant to be this way.

“You fucking idiot. You-you MORON! Take it back! Take it back!” He shouts at you, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you manage to croak out. 

“Its not fucking okay! I’m not letting you die. I’m not letting you go,”

“Katsuki,” you look into his eyes, his hands shake as he takes you in. “This was how it was supposed to be.” You aren’t sure what compels you to say it, but it feels right. You know he has the same sense, because Bakugou vehemently shakes his head and snarls at you. 

“Angel face, you’re not dying on me, you hear me?” He’s crying, gripping the front of your hero costume so tightly,

“I love you.” Your words break from pain, but also from sadness, fear. You are dying, and there is no way you would come out of this situation alive.

You are going to die.

“I will find you again, in the next life. I swear it.” You hiss out as the pain in your abdomen worsens. Without looking down you know that the wound that was once open on his stomach, now emerged on your own. It was the side effect of your quirk, healing others at the expense of your own pain. 

“Please,” You’ve never heard him use the word, in all the years you have known him. And you can count on one hand how many times you have been a witness to his tears. But here he was, sat next to you, tears running marks through the dust on his cheeks, sobbing at you. 

“Don’t leave me. I love you. I need you. Don’t go, not yet.”

“I love you Katsuki,” You smile as you close your eyes and feel yourself take your final breath. You feel the shortness of breath, the air pooling inside your lungs before it expels. And part of you wants time to stop, just so you can experience another second of life, another second to see Katsuki, another second to hear him say your name. But as you let out your final breath, you’re content, because this was how it was meant to be.

A gruttal noise ricochets around you, followed by a scream so loud and heartbroken your eyes snap open. Only you’re no longer in the crushing grip of the man you love. Somehow, you’re standing to the side, watching Katsuki clutch your lifeless body to his chest, screaming. Your eyes sting as you watch him break down. You’re sobbing as you see the moment that Izuku and Shouto arrive on the scene, followed by a variety of other heroes. You’re on the floor as you watch them try to take your body from Katsuki’s hands, but the man practically explodes when they try, so they leave you both there. 

A figure appears behind you, how you know that, you’re not completely sure, but you know someone, or something is there. “Did I do something wrong?” You ask the air.

“No, you followed the path that was placed before you.” a voice that is everything and nothing all at once replies. It sounds as if its inside your head, but also everywhere around you. Turning around slowly, you find the source of the voice being a glowing silhouette of a figure. 

“How did I know what to do? How did I manage to get to him intime?” How the fuck did I grow wings? You wanted to be mad, but everything around you held an air of serenity that you couldn’t physically make yourself become mad. 

“You were one of my children once upon a time.” The voice says, and even though you can’t see their eyes, you can feel their gaze on the wings still behind your shoulder blades. “And you bartered for something that you had no right to claim. And now you must endure.”

“Endure what? What did I do to deserve this!” You hiss, looking at Katsuki, rocking you against him, his shouts still meeting your ears. “What did I do to make him have to live through that!” Your yell breaks from your chest broken and angry as you point to the scene in front of you. Turning around back to the figure you are prepared to release yourself upon it when suddenly it's right in front of you, golden liquid swirls in its eyes and you can’t look away.

“You have to see first.” Hands are placed either side of your face, and instantly grief so painful hits your chest, physically knocking you back and pulling a cry from your lips as your world goes black. 

                                             +   +   +   +   

“Don’t you find this boring?” You ask, looking through the small portal to the world below you. The person next to you sighs, and you turn to them, almost taken back that they look like a male version of you. The same eyes and hair. He was your older brother, your brain fills in. 

“Our job is an honour y/n,” he points out, his eyes narrowing on you slightly.

“I know that, I just wish we could do more you know.”

“When you get your client, you will.” He says smiling, gently patting your head as he stands up. “It should be any day now.” You stand up and smile at your brother.

“I will be the best guardian that ever lived!”

“I have no doubt about it cherub.”

                                     ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

So this is what the human world was like? You wonder as your wings fly you past a war torn town to where the tents stand high over the dirt. It smells like death. The small bond in your chest that binds you to your client pulls you down an alley between tents until you’re standing at the entrance of what you know is a makeshift hospital. With no hesitation you walk in, weaving through nurses and patients alike until you find the curtained off room you’re looking for. Inside there's a sharp yell and followed by a stream of words that make you blanch. Mother have mercy, he had the mouth of a sailor. Deciding to wait until the nurses left the room, you slinked inside and pulled the curtains closed behind you.

The man on the bed instinctively looked up and glared at you and for a second it rocked you. He could see you. Wait, of course he could, you were his guardian angel, he was the only human on the planet able to see you unless you willed it so. 

“Who the fuck are you? And why are you in my fucking room?” For a second, you just stared at the man. With his ash blonde hair, he almost seemed as angelic as you, however those red vermillion eyes had your breath hesitating for disperse from your lungs for only but a moment. They were beautiful.

Realising he was still waiting for your response, you straightened your spine and walked to him, shoving your hand out towards him and let your wings spread out behind you. 

“I’m Y/n, your new guardian angel.”

                                      ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

“So you were sent home from the war?” You ask, sitting on the front porch of his old house, swinging your legs as you watched Katsuki work. 

Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, Katsuki turns to you and frowns at your question. He’d given up on trying to ignore you by this point, upon realising that you wouldn’t leave, so he would humour some of your curiosity. You had tried to breach the reason that you were called upon him in the first place, but he hadn’t yet told you, and as you looked blatantly at his glare, you knew today wasn’t going to be that day either. But it never hurt to try. 

“I was discharged.” Was his familiar response, as he lifted the too over his head and brought it down onto the soil once again. 

“Same thing. So you went from being a general in the army, to being working out here… On a farm.”

“It was my mentor's farm.” Katsuki barks at you, instantly on the defensie. His tone has you raising your hands in the air in peace.

“Hey, I’m not judging you. It’s literally part of my job not to.” You joke, hoping to earn a smile from the man, but all he does is turn away and keep working. You knew a little about why you were sent to be Katsuki’s guardian. He was a rare case, where he had already had a guardian angel, one that had requested a transfer. It kicked up such a fuss amongst the guardians that they assigned you, a newly fledged guardian to him, as if handing off a used toy. Sometimes, you would look at the blonde and think just why his previous guardian made such a decision. Sure he was brash and could be an asshole, but you didn’t have to be a guardian angel to see that he had a good heart. But what had he faced in that war? How had that changed him? What demons did he now carry? That was your job, to watch over him, and give him quality of life until his time was up. You weren’t supposed to completely interfere with him, but he looked so incredibly emotionless all the time, you had to do something. 

Standing up from your spot on the porch, you hop down onto the grass and walk towards him. Grabbing the hessian sack containing the seeds by his feet, you look at Katsuki who is now watching you carefully.

“Well if i’m going to be eating your food, I may as well help right?” You say, smiling from ear to ear in encouragement. Please don’t lock me out, I want to help you. Please let me help you…

“Tch whatever, just don’t get in my way cherub.” He hadn’t meant the nickname to stick, but from that moment on it had. It was familiar to you, for its what your brother had called you, but when it came from Katsuki, it seemed to hit your heart differently somehow. 

“I promise!” 

                    ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

“Were you always a cherub or did you have a life before or something?” You’re laying on the roof of the old house, looking up at the dark sky, stars flickering across it, familiar constelations glinting at you. 

“I’m not sure.” You answer honestly, which has him turning to you. 

“What? You don’t know?” He sounds so offended by your words, so you scramble for an explanation. 

“Well, I have a brother. I know he’s my brother, but I don’t know who my parents are. I don’t know if I was always an angel, or if I was something more before…” Your voice trails off as you look at the sky. Was it possible that you could have been human before you were an angel. You were young compared to some other people of your kind, but you never counted birthdays, so you weren’t even sure how old you were. The idea of your existence suddenly seemed too daunting to fully contemplate, and your eyes sting. If you had been human… did that mean you had a family? A mother and a father? Maybe some siblings? Does that mean you had died… Tears leak out of the corner of your eyes and suddenly Katsuki sits up.

“Shit, are you crying?” His question has you rubbing the salt water from your cheeks and looking at your tear covered hands in awe. You had never cried before… so thats what it was like… 

“I- fuck- I didn’t mean to make you cry y/n,” Katsuki is watching you carefully, with actual guilt on his face. The unfamiliar emotion shocks you still for a moment, before you smile softly at him.

“It’s fine, I just never really thought about it before I guess… you had never questioned your existence until this point. It was weird and overwhelming, to suddenly question something you had believed your whole life, something you knew to be true, but not quite having the whole truth. What was once something you had never paid mind to now felt like a cavernous hole in your chest that screamed to be filled with something.

“You were probably just as annoying as a human as you are now, so I wouldn’t get that excited.” A laugh drips from your mouth as you tilt your head back. Never before had you felt so many mixed emotions at once, sadness and happiness contradict each other inside your chest, and you couldn’t do anything but laugh, and offer the man next to you a tear covered smile. 

“You’re probably right. Maybe I was a crap human.”

“I doubt it.” Your head snaps back to him in slight shock. Although Katsuki had been warming up to your presence, he was yet to be so open about it. “You must have done something right to become someone's guardian angel. So rest easy cherub, there's no way you could have done anything bad in your past life - if you had one.” Katsuki says, laying back down on the roof and averting his gaze back to the sky. You can’t help but watch him for just a moment more. Compared to when you two had first met, he seemed a lot more relaxed and at peace out here, in the middle of nowhere working a farm, then he had been elsewhere. It made you happy, and somewhere deep down, you knew you should have simply felt indifferent about it. But things were changing, you were changing, and you didn’t want to stop.

                        ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Katsuki had been out working when someone began pounding on the sliding doors. From your seat on the back porch, you placed down your book and stood up. Glancing out to the fields, you could see a silhouette in the distance and knew Katsuki would take to long to get back, and the person sounded like they needed help right now. You took a step towards the front door but paused when you realised what you were doing. You were seriously about to break one of the sacred laws without a second thought. For letting someone else that wasn’t your client was a taboo, one that people only crossed if absolutely necessary. You’d been warned against it multiple times, yet here you were about to break it with no hesitation.

What was wrong with you? When did you become so laid back that you forgot your own laws? 

More pounding emits from the other side of the screen door, and you can vaguely see the shadow of the person. Your couldn’t help them. You weren’t here, you weren’t even real. 

You. Were. Not. Human. 

“Please, I need help! My daughter is incredibly ill and I don’t know what to do!” This time you don’t falter when you reach and yank open the sliding door. For a moment, the woman looks over you with glazed eyes, but it's quickly broken when the little girl in her arms lets out a whimper. 

“Please, can you help her? I don’t know anything about medicine and the village doctor is a few hours away.” The woman begs with tears in her eyes. The concern in her eyes pulls at something inside you, and you quickly move to the side, ushering her into the house. 

“Come this way, I’ll see what I can do for her.” You say, sliding closed the door behind her and leading her into the main lounge, an area big enough to lay her down comfortably. 

“Thank you so much,” She sighs, placing her daughter down on the bedding on the floor you had pulled out earlier in the day.

“Don’t thank me yet.” You reply. “I don’t know much about medicine from around here, but all I can do is try.” Kneeling down next to the young girl, you close your eyes and let out a shaking breath. There’s a dark aura around her when you open your eyes again, bleeding from her chest, a sight you have come to recognise as death. The little girl was dying. 

Briefly unsure as to what to do for her, you raise your hands over her and gently place your hands on her arm, letting out another shaky breath. You had only ever heard of it in rumours, and seen it briefly when your brother had healed a cut on your leg, but it was worth a try.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you pictured your essence bleeding into the little girl's arm, going into her bloodstream and pushing out the darkness that beckoned her. For a moment, there was nothing other than the gentle rustle of the trees against the old house. But then, a light began to emit from your hands that was so bright you could see it behind your closed eyelids. 

And when you opened your eyes, you saw the golden light streaming from your hands into the little girl, who’s eyes finally began to flutter. By the time it dimmed to nothing, her eyes opened and a sob ripped out of her mother.

“Mother?” she whispered, her voice raspy with sleep. The mother lunged for her, pulling her into a chest with a relieved cry. Holding her tight to her chest, she looked over her daughters head to you and cried. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” You didn’t quite know how to respond, so you simply nodded at her, yourself struck with awe. It was only once you had stood up and moved to give them some space that you noticed Katsuki in the doorway, his brows furrowed and a look on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“How did you do that?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the mother and daughter on his floor. You let out an internal sigh at the fact he wasn’t mad that you had invited them into his house without his permission.

“I’m not sure to be honest.”

“That was incredible.” This time, you gape at him as he moves towards you and cups your cheeks. “That was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.” Katsuki says honestly, and you forget how to breathe. 

“Katsuki…” He ignores your words and looks at the mother on the floor with a fierce glare. You’re about to reprimand him when he folds his arms across his strong chest. 

“If you ever speak to anyone about what happened here-”

“I won’t. I swear.” The mother said, smiling as she stood up. As she passed you she bowed deeply, still holding once again sleeping, but healthy, daughter in her hands. “I will not forget this miracle. Thank you so much for saving my daughter.” And then she’s gone. You stand still, stuck in place by her words. You’re relieved that you helped her, but you know part of you should be worried. You can’t seem to make yourself though, you’re elated, and want to jump around in joy. You had saved that little girl's life.

“You let her see you.” Katsuki says from behind you, and you turn to face him, but he's not looking at you. Standing on the porch, he’s looking back out at the fields and rubs his temples. Maybe he was mad.

“I wasn’t going to help, but when I heard her daughter was sick-”

“And what happens if she goes and tells everyone in the village that some random stranger healed her daughter… with some sort of magic? WHat do you think will happen then y/n?!” You were wrong, so wrong. Katsuki stands in front of you, absolutely livid, and for the first time since you've met him, you can’t read him.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think it through…” You conclude, embarrassed suddenly at your impulsive behaviour.

“What happens if they come here searching for you? They will try and burn you at the stake for being a witch y/n!” Katsuki yells, and you flinch.

“I’m sorry!” You shout back, letting your own frustration at his current attitude make itself known. “You’re right! I didn’t think. Instead, I heard that a little girl was sick, was dying, and I decided to help her. I’m sorry if that's too much for you, but that's not your decision to make Katsuki.”

“You’re damn right it is my decision! You’re my guardian angel, I cant fucking lose you.” Your breath catches at the slight tears building in the corner of his eyes as he points an accusing finger at you. “I can’t lose you y/n.” his anger suddenly drops until he stands there, arms limp by his sides, not daring to look at you. Hesitantly, you step towards him and gingerly reach out for one of his clenched fists. Your heart pounds inside your chest as you feel his warm hand in your own. You’d never really touched him before, not like this at least. Ahd as you drag his gaze to yours, you know that you’re breaking some major rules by doing what you’re about to do, but something also tells you that you had already broken the rule a long time ago. 

“Katsuki,” He finally looks into your eyes, and you find yourself struggling to find the words you want to say, but luckily he complete’s your thoughts by pressing his lips to yours. Sparks shoot down your spine as he threads his free hand into your hair, and every single cell in your body feels as if it has been set alight. This was wrong, on so many levels, but how could this be wrong when being this close to him felt like the most right thing in the entire world?

You clutch his dirt covered shirt in one hand and gently push away from the kiss, resting your forehead on his chest. 

“I can’t-” He grips your chin at your words and stares into your eyes. With so much conviction, Katsuki’s words thread into your heart, permanently scaring his name into your flesh. 

“I love you cherub. I don’t care what power I have to destroy to keep you, but I will do it. I’d bring down heaven just for you.” It was as if you had been waiting your entire life to hear those words, from him. 

“I am yours, Katsuki Bakugou. And you are mine.” You whisper up at him, delighting in how bright happiness shines in his irises. 

“Always.” 

“I love you, Katsuki.” And this time, you meet him halfway into the embrace, crushing your lips together, and letting him raise you in his arms, and carry you to his room. 

                         ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

You got four years together, full of happiness, half asleep smiles, starlight whispers and stolen kisses in the fields. 

Then the soldiers came knocking. 

You had hidden yourself without a second thought when there was a knock on the door of your house, and Katsuki had answered it with a calmness that left his body the second the door opened. The men practically shoved a piece of paper into your lovers hands and left, to leave you to deal with the consequences of their actions. 

“Katsuki?” Your voice seemed to bring him out of the stupor he was in, and had him turning to you with furrowed eyebrows. He read the paper once, then twice, before crumbling it between his fingers and throwing it into the fire. 

“What’s wrong?” but you knew. You knew they were taking him away again. 

“I’m being reinstated.” Was all he said before walking through the house and straight out the back door. 

“Katsuki!” You call out, quickly scrambling after him into the darkness. He stalks through the fields like a man on a mission, and you force your shorter legs to keep up with his pace. 

“Katsuki! Everything will be alright-”

“Alright?” He barks, turning around on you with anger flashing through his eyes. “What about this is alright Y/n? They’re making me leave everything to fight in a pointless war, leave you behind. What about that is alright?” His voice threatens to break, and you take advantage of his moment of stillness to move closer to him. 

“You’re right, nothing about this situation is alright. It’s a nightmare come to life, but its our reality.” You say, placing your hands on his cheek, causing Katsuki to close his eyes and lean into your touch. “I don’t want you to leave, but we both know…” Your voice breaks on the word, but you hold back the sob threatening to break free. “You have to go.” The tears building in your eyes break free and roll down your cheeks in a never ending wave, and no matter how many times Katsuki tries to rectify it by wiping them with his thumb, they don’t stop. 

“I don’t want you to go. I want us to stay here. I want to live here forever.” The words force themselves from you as the realisation that he’s leaving finally sinks in. He was going off to war, and there was a chance he would never come back. He could die. 

“I want to live here forever too.” He says, and you look up in slight shock. He was crying, and the only reason you could see the sight was due to the moonlight making them sparkle as they rolled down his cheeks. “I want to marry you, have children with you, fight with you, argue with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to love you here, forever. And when the day comes that we do pass on, I want to do that together too. But when I go, please do not follow me. Stay here, wait for me. Please.” You're sobbing by the time he’s finished, your heart breaks so fiercely that you fall to a heap on the floor, clutching each other so tightly as if it were the very last time. 

Katsuki Bakugou was made for you, and you were made for him. And nothing was going to keep either of you apart. 

The days moved quickly after that, each second spent in each other's presence, as if trying to engrave one another to your minds so you couldn’t go a second without thinking about each other. It would most definitely make parting harder, but you couldn’t care. After many arguments, you had eventually agreed to Katsuki’s request to not follow him to war, so instead you concocted a plan of your own. You would go back to headquarters, and you would ensure that you would never be parted from him again.

It was just a myth, or at least that's what you had once believed, but you now knew it was true. It had to be. Claiming your own soulmate was a big risk, and held a heavy price, but you knew you could do it. Because for Katsuki, for the life he mentioned for you both, for this life, you would do anything. 

                      ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The moment you had arrived back in headquarters, you knew something was wrong. But for the first time since ever here, you didn’t care about your job. You didn’t care about the taboo’s, you didn’t care about being a great guardian angel, you just wanted to be great for Katsuki. And you were going to make it happen. But other people had plans that outweighed your own. 

The moment you had stepped inside the library, your vision went hazy and your knees hit the floor, a dull pain throbbing inside your chest. What was going on. Your hazy vision finally focused again, and you found yourself standing in a room, surrounded by guardians residing on grandstands, and before you stood your brother and a silhouette of white light. But it was to your brother that you looked, and almost winced at the horror and disbelief in his eyes. 

“What have you done y/n?” He asked, his voice breaking on the last word. He looked at you like you had stabbed him in the back, and in a way, you had. You had broken the laws of your people for a man, you had betrayed your family for a human. But it was worth it. 

“Y/n, you have been accused of breaking the laws of guardianship with your client. How do you plead.” Said one of the three guardians on the stand behind your brother. You were on trial, you realised. One that you knew would end in your life either being taken, or being banished. You hoped for the latter, that you could deal with. 

“Guilty. As are you.” Your words cause whispers to erupt within the crowd and you turn to the figure of light and glare. 

“You say you create us in the image of yourself, to help humans, to guide them. But by doing so you have made us slaves to your course. We will never know true emotions, we will not experience life, we do not experience love.” Tears are streaming down your cheeks, but you don't care. Let them see the true span of emotions that they never get to experience. Let your words cut them deep. 

“You plead guilty to the charges of breaking lawful conduct with your client Katsuki Bakugou. For this crime, you will be punished with eternal banishment-” Another guardian announces to the room. 

“You can try to take from him, but you will not succeed.” Your yell silences the room, even the slightest whisper quiets at the sound. “My life is his, and his is mine. Until light fades and darkness dies, I will be his and he will be mine.” The words roll off your tongue as if they were made just for you, and for a second you see the silhouette of light flicker, before a sharp pain physically pushes you to the floor. You scream out as your chest burns, as if someone had fisted your heart and set it alight.

There is a moment that you truly believe the pain will kill you, that it will overcome your body and burn you to ash, but as quickly as it appears, the pain dissipates, leaving a thread behind, a thread that throbs harshly inside your chest. A thread that you knew if you followed, would tie you to the love of your life. Holy shit you did it.

“What have you done?!”

“She just bought herself a soulmate,” it's your brother's voice, but you can barely hear him over the sound of your blood pumping through your ears. You raise a hand to your chest as something pulls, feeling as if it tugged upon a rib, and then you're met with such grief it forces your hands to the floor. What was happening? There's a hand at your chin and you look up into the light silhouette and want to cry out at the projection it shows. 

Bakugou lays on the ground, lifeless, covered in dirt. Blood gushes from under him and you let out a howl of a scream. 

“You took something that was not for you,” was the last thing you heard before you collapsed onto the floor and everything went black.

Please not him, not Katsuki. 

                      +   +   +   +   

With a sharp breath, you open your eyes, and fall to the floor as tears stream down your cheeks. The past hits you over and over again, forcing sob after sob from your mouth, as you clutch the surface beneath your hands, trying to ground yourself, but to little effect. 

By the time you have calmed somewhat, your body is completely numb, your brain a cloud of fog continuously rolling in and never dissipating. 

“Was this the price for tying my life to his?”  you ask, knowing that the silhouette of light stil resided in front of you, but you didn’t dare to look up at it. 

“You cannot simply buy a soulmate, or tie your lifeline to his. You are immortal. Forever roaming, never planting your feet purely on the ground.” You clutch your chest, feeling the tether as if it were a string tugging on one of your ribs. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go… You turn around and look at the person, the man or woman you can’t tell, it's just a silhouette of blinding light, yet it doesn’t hurt the eyes.

“You mean to say…”

“Yes, you are immortal y/n. You will never die.” and then the being is gone, but his words never leave your mind. 

Because it was right. You don’t die.

For years, you watch the world recover and move on, being unnoticed by all, forever to roam aimlessly as you witness everyone you love grow older.

It's a blessing and a curse, watching your friends all graduate, to grow into their full potential and become the heroes you always knew they would be. But what is hardest is watching Bakugou grow old.

You watch him become the number one hero, you watch him how he regresses and cuts people out of his life in his twenties, and are relieved when his friends help to pull him out of it. You are with him every day, hanging around his apartment, following him on missions, your wings allowing you to keep up with him as he moves quickly. It’s a blessing, even though he doesn’t know you’re there to witness every breakdown, every hardship, but also every success. 

It's a blessing until one day, he meets a woman with a smile like sunshine that stops him in his tracks. You find yourself screaming into the silence, at nothing, trying to do anything to get him to notice you. To remember you. To not forget you, or the previous life that you two once shared.

But this was your punishment, you had bought yourself a human soulmate, one that couldn’t feel the bond as you did, and would most likely never know you existed. 

You watch him date, you watch him have a child, but he never marries the sunshine woman. Instead, she passes away in a freak car accident when the child is barely a few months old. You feel the second she passes the moment it happens, and suddenly she’s in the apartment with you, watching Bakugou try to calm his daughter with no avail. With a sad smile, she turns to you and you’re so shocked you only gape at her. She’s the first person to see you in twenty years. 

“He speaks of you all the time.” She says, looking back at her family once more. “I knew I would always be second in his heart to you, and I was okay with that. I am. He never got over you, and I don’t think he ever will. But he was right, you’re watching over him,” this time she turns her eyes back to you, and wipes the tears from her cheeks. 

“Take care of them, please?” You only get the chance to nod before she's gone. 

Time moves faster it seems towards the latter part of life. You get to watch Katsuki’s daughter grow, and watch him struggle to balance hero work with being an only parent. But your friends Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero step in to help out their little angel, as they call her. The name makes you want to cry every time. 

You watch Katsuki Bakugou live his life to the fullest, you watch him be a phenomenal father, you watch him get injured, and beat villains. You watch him and your friends grow old without you, until you’ve said your final goodbyes to them all, until it's just Katsuki, surrounded by his loved ones on a hospital bed,  grey haired and tanned skin wrinkles from his retirement days spent out in the sunshine. You see his final goodbyes, and you watch that black aura completely leave his body, and then for the first time, you visibly see that tether. 

A string of golden light, the same shade as the one emitted from your hands a lifetime ago when healing a little girl. A bond that stretches across space and time, permanently tying you to the no young ash blonde standing in front of you. He looks the exact same as he did the day you lost him. Katsuki looks down at his hands before looking at you as the world around you begins to dull. 

“Y/n?” You smile at him, letting tears roll down your cheeks as you run to him. “Y/n!” A cry leaves your mouth as you hear him say your name, it had been so long since you’d heard it.

You stop just before him, and hesitantly reach out. You hadn’t felt another touch in a lifetime, and to see him now, to have him here, it seemed too good to be true. However any doubt you carry isn’t held in Katuski, who quickly pulls you into him, a strangled noise coming from his mouth as he directs his lips to yours. You cry against him as you feel his warm touch beneath your fingers, and you know this is real. He’s here.

“Cherub,” he whispers into your hair, and you bury your face into his chest, gripping his back tightly enough to hurt, but he doesn’t say a word. Tilting your chin with a hand, you find yourself looking into the same red vermillion eyes that existed in another time, another dimension, a pair that loved you just as much as they did now. 

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t-- I couldn’t save you before.” Words bubble out of you before you can stop them. There are so many things you want to say, but not enough time. Because you know that this won’t last forever. 

“Cherub, I’m glad you weren’t there. But you sacrificing yourself for me is another thing because I-” his voice breaks on the word. “I missed you so much Y/n, every fucking day. I wanted to die without you…”

“I made sure you wouldn’t,” your words make him rear back slightly and look down at you again.  “I made a deal, that if you died I would die too, because that would mean I failed my job as your guardian. I made you my soulmate.”

“What was the price?”

“I don’t know.” You say in reply, but now, you think you have the vaguest idea. You bought yourself a soulmate, something that shouldn’t really exist, so now, you would have to wait until the universe decided you had paid enough time until you can reap what you took. 

“How are you here? Did I…” Katsuki finally asks, looking around at the world still moving on without him, but his embrace doesn’t loosen around you for a moment. As if he too is too afraid to let you go. 

“You’re ready to pass on,”

“What about you?” You blink at him and hold onto his biceps. “When I tied myself to you, it was something deeper than I expected, I bought myself a soul to match mine, and I have to pay the consequences from such actions.” an archway opens in front of you both catching your attention, and you shift your gaze from it to your soulmate. You place your hands on his cheeks bringing his scared eyes to yours once more.

“You won’t remember me in your next life,” Katsuki instantly utters a complaint but you shut him up with a hand. “I will be with you, always. I will protect you until my dying breath, and that's all I can do until I pay back for what I took.” Fresh tears well in his eyes as you both feel the pending goodbye begin to loom over you. Your time was coming to an end. 

“How long?” He asks, pressing his forehead to yours and taking in everything about your face whilst he still can. 

“I don’t know, but a few more lifetimes.”

“So I’m just meant to forget you?” He cries, his voice hoarse from crying, and clutches your cheeks tightly. 

“I- I don’t want to. I love you, I never stopped.”

“I know you did, and not a second has gone by that I haven’t loved you with every fibre of my being. But please try and be happy, at least until I get there.” You say, giving him a final soft smile, but as much as you try to portray confidence, the tears of sadness flooding your face you know do the complete opposite. You’ve been so lonely without him, and now, you’re about to lose him all over again. 

“How am I meant to be happy when you’re taking the source of my happiness with you?” He whispers brokenly, and your heart clenches painfully inside your chest. 

“I will always come back to you Katsuki.” The light from the archway begins to glow brighter and brighter, becoming too bright to look at, so instead, you focus on your soulmate and kiss him one final time, putting everything you had into the embrace, and Katsuki returns it tenfold. When you finally pull from him once more, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his. 

“I will find you again, nothing will keep me from you cherub.” 

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[thefallenbibliophilequote]

The Last Word- part 1

Bucky x reader

Summary: you and Bucky never get along, it’s not that you hate him- it’s just that he always finds ways to get on your nerves. You’ve had enough of it. But, funny thing about feelings, they often tend to intertwine with others in ways that you can’t really expect.

Word count: 4,318

Warnings: language, Bucky being an adorable idiot

A/N: this started as an entry to a challenge, but it got out of hand so I posted an excerpt from the full fic for the challenge. And wrote this mini-series just for me, because a 10k entry to a challenge would be too much and I really felt like this fic should have separate chapters. So I managed to make it so it feels right for me.

A/N 2: I really hope you like it, if you wish to be tagged in this series let me know!

read preview here

Part 1

You wouldn’t say you were stubborn, you weren’t- you just refused to back down when someone posed a challenge, or tried to be a jackass. That jackass position is currently taken by none other than the Winter Soldier, he seems to like that job, fits him perfectly. You two could never get along, it was his fault.

It’s not that you hate him- it’s just that he always gets on your nerves. He always tries to one up you and he always does whatever it takes to annoy you just because he’s bored. Over 100 years old and he still acts like a total child.

It wasn’t like that the first time you met him though.

The first time you met Bucky, you were a new recruit. It all started when you were testing your powers and you accidentally teleported yourself into a SHIELD facility that happened to be on the TV at the time. In your defense- you got better at that! After they made sure you weren’t a hydra agent, they wanted to recruit you.

Apparently you caught Captain America’s attention, because soon enough he wanted you to join them and practice with Wanda.

You first met Wanda, a total sweetheart even with the immense power she has. Steve and you agreed to test your powers first, in order to see what you will need to work on.

You, Steve and Wanda were in the training room, it was bigger than your apartment. You began with the basic- maneuvering while fighting.

“Can we take a break please?” you panted, your breath heavy after your latest test with the lovely supersoldier.

“Not yet, I still need to check your response to Wanda’s abilities. I want to know the limitations of your abilities.” He said to you, barely even breaking a sweat. “Why didn’t they train you in S.H.I.E.L.D?”

“They said that I should first become a fighter and then they’ll let me use my powers.” You replied bitterly, you shouldn’t fight without an ability you have, it’s not unfair to use it.

“Sounds about right,” Wanda added “that’s why we have to run all these tests. After this we can go get lunch.”

Wanda sent a surge of power towards you, you dodged it and aimed to teleport yourself to the other side of the gym.

A second later instead of landing on the gym floor, you stumbled onto something firm, but it didn’t feel right. You opened your eyes to see blue eyes studying you.

Bucky was in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, Natasha and Sam sat on the isle stools. He was walking to sit with them when suddenly a body fell onto him seemingly out of nowhere, knocking him to the ground. He immediately studied the girl on top of him, seemingly harmless but still a stranger in the avengers tower. When she opened her Y/E/C eyes, it only lasted a second before he switched your positions and he knocked you to the ground.

You blocked his attack and pushed him to the side, as he was about to capture you again, you teleported into a standing position, a couple feet away from him. Taking out the knife from your thigh and threw it at him, pinning him to the cupboard behind him as he got up. That’s when you took the scene around you.

Three avengers in front of you and you just threw a dagger at the Winter Soldier. Shit. Before they could advance towards you, Wanda and Steve came rushing into the room.

“Y/N, where did you go? How did you get here?” Wanda stood beside you.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry I just-”

“Steve do you know her?” Bucky pulled the dagger out, looking at his friend, before returning the gaze to you, an apologetic shy smile on your face.

“Meet Y/N she is our newest member,” he looked at you then, you felt like a kid getting scolded. “She was supposed to stay with us in the gym.”

“I really don’t know what happened,” you said to Steve and Wanda, before looking guiltily at the avenger in front of you. “Sorry for throwing a dagger at you.”

“Sorry for attacking you,” a small smirk grew on his face “but you had it coming when you knocked me to the ground.”

“Well it’s not my fault that you stood in my spot.” You countered.

“Nice shot by the way.” His blue eyes were way too piercing for your liking, he handed you back the dagger. You threw it to pin his shirt to the cupboard, no actual harm to his hand.

You nodded before Wanda caught your attention.

“What are you doing?” she reached her hands to your head. You stepped backwards a little.

“I want to look into your mind, you’ve never seen this part of the tower before- have you?”

“No, I haven’t.” you realized as you looked around.

“Mind filling us in?” Sam looked at you, this must have looked bad. Not the best first impression you had wanted to have on the Avengers.

“I teleport, I can’t quite control it yet, I thought I understood it but I guess not.” You fiddled with your hair, putting it behind your ears.

“Which is exactly why we need to get back to training, clearly we need to figure out how you managed to get here” Steve started to lead you back as you sighed.

“Come on Steve, she stood her ground against me, give her a little break.” Bucky spoke up. “She clearly knows her way with daggers too. Do you want to have lunch with us Doll?”

“Oh yes please, I’m starving.” You agreed and smiled at Bucky.

“That could be it.” Wanda chimed in.

“That could be what?” Steve replied, giving in and walking with you to the table.

“If you thought about food, your mind wanted to come here, maybe that’s how your powers work.” She explained, but you shook your head, sitting down as Bucky sat next to you. You decided to ignore that.

“But look at that first time I teleported into a S.H.I.E.L.D facility, I didn’t want to go there, I just wound up there because I saw it. I’ve never teleported into a place I didn’t see before.”

“You could try it out, I bet you never considered you could do it before.” Bucky took a sip from Sam’s forgotten coffee and got a stern look in return. “What? She spilled my coffee!”

You grimaced, remembering the mess on the floor, before you could apologize, Wanda put her hand on your arm and you saw her eyes go red for a second and when you looked around, the floor was spotless.

“Thank you.” You whispered to her.

As the rest of the group settled into an easy conversation, Wanda made you lunch which you savored, who knew the Scarlet Witch could cook?

Afterwards, you Steve and Wanda decided to go back to the gym, before you left Bucky called you.

“You still owe me a coffee, doll.” He smiled, eyes gleaming with what seemed like mischief.

For some reason, the nickname made your brain stop working completely, so all you could do was nod to him with a small smile before you turned and hurried a bit in your step towards the gym. Hopefully the heat in your cheeks will go unnoticed.

“Jesus Barnes, keep it in your pants.” The black widow commented after you left the room, shaking her head as Sam snickered.

“What can I say? I like a girl who can throw a dagger.” He smiled.

“I know how to throw a dagger too.”

“Okay, I don’t like any girl who can throw a dagger, maybe it’s her.” He shrugged; he sure would love to figure that out.

Now however, things were very different.

Bucky got on your nerves like no other. You were going at it again after one tough mission. All the avengers were in the meeting room for a post-mission briefing, and it didn’t go well.

“How is it my fault that you decided to follow me, when I specifically told you not to?” you yelled back at Bucky, fuelled with the accusation.

“You were so fucking stupid out there in the field, why did they even let you be there? You almost died, and almost got me hurt!” Bucky yelled from across the table at you. The two of you pushed your chairs back as the rest of the team sat there groaning.

“That’s your fault for following me! I don’t need a babysitter! Besides, almost doesn’t count, I didn’t die and more than that, I got the formula that we needed!” you gestured to the vile sitting on the table to prove your point.

“You were stupid and reckless, you got stabbed and you could’ve ruined the whole mission! I would’ve been the one that had to carry you if you got shot instead of focusing on the mission!” he argued, your stomach was bandaged up but it was fine.

“I’m sorry, but this is MY stab wound and it’s barely a stab, more like a glaze of a knife really, that hydra agent was really unqualified.” You let yourself go off topic, but really- what were they doing recruiting dumb people like that? “And besides that, I didn’t ruin the mission, I wasn’t reckless- it was a risky move but I calculated it and to prove it to you, I won us the mission!”

“I could’ve done it much more smoothly, if you just listened to the instructions for once-”

“You think you could’ve done it smoothly? Yeah, sure because sneaking in with a glowing arm is better than teleporting in there!”

“Okay you two kids need a timeout; this is giving me a headache.” Tony complained, “Y/N it was risky but you got us what we needed, next time consol us. Barnes, let it go, she got stabbed.”

“It was barely a stab.”

“Getting stabbed isn’t an excuse to get out of trouble.”

You and Bucky said at the same time, then you looked at each other, you just scoffed. “I got shot at last week- it didn’t stop Steve from lecturing me”

“Oh boo freaking hoo you got shot at, deal with it.” You mocked, tony gave you a stern look and you sat down, only to get up a second after as Bucky was too cocky for your liking.

“It’s Steve- all he does is give lectures and throw a Frisbee.” Tony dismissed it and ignored Steve’s glare.

“Boo hoo? What are you a child?” the bastard smirked, knowing very well how he got on your nerves. “Besides- I did deal with it, I’m a supersoldier, and I can handle a little bullet- unlike you, that is.”

“You just have to have the last word at everything, don’t you?” you scoffed at him, hated that he got to you so easily but you were not going to back down to that little shit.

“Yes.” He replied, but before you could retort back at him, tony interrupted again.

“Can you two just hate fuck all of this shit out, so we can get on with this briefing so we can get this over with, now shall we?”

“Absolutely not!”

“You wish!”

The two of you answered, you glared at the soldier in front of you before directing it to give a mean stare to Tony.

“I will beat you, you know.” You whispered to him as you sat down in your chair.

“Oh doll, you’re no match to me.” He sat down, “I’ll always get the last word, just wait and see.”

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that felt familiar to you that you really didn’t like. The game is on.

You and Wanda sat in your room, just after a huge shopping spree at the mall(with sunglasses and baseball hats of course), your arms were sore, red lines covering them from the amount of shopping bags you carried back to the tower. Now the two of you were trying on your new outfits, your favourite music blaring.

The music stopped and you turned around to see Natasha next to the speaker, smirking as she closed the door behind her.

“Now, how much did the two of you spend on all these?”

“Probably too much, but it’s worth it.” You smiled at her, spinning around in your new mini dress it twirled as you did; it was beautiful but casual enough that you can wear it daily. The beautiful light purple of it caressed your skin perfectly.

“It fits you perfectly, I’m sure Barnes will go mad when he sees you in it.”

“Come on Nat, we talked about it. I don’t like him in the slightest, he doesn’t like me. I know you’re a superspy but you’re wrong about this.”

“Oh come on Y/N,” Wanda joined in on the conversation. “You have to admit that there is a sort of spark between the two of you. You can’t deny that forever.”

“Oh are we really doing this right now?” you groaned “fine but just so I don’t lose my sanity, at least what’s left of it, I need some tea.”

The next second you were in the kitchen, in front of the mug cabinet, looking for your favourite mug when you spotted it on the top shelf. Fucking shit, you rose to your tiptoes to try and reach it.

“Looking for something?” the voice of Sam startled you. You turned around to see Steve, Sam and-

“You put it up there didn’t you?” you accused the soldier who was now staring at you. You raised your eyebrows as Steve nudged his friend.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about doll.” He gave you a sinister smile, before his eyes lit up. “But I’m sure you can reach it on your own, unless you want some help, or a stool perhaps?”

You could feel your cheeks flaming as he walked towards you to offer help, what a gentleman.

“My size is perfectly normal, it is you who is ridiculously tall because of some stupid serum” you stuck an accusing finger at his chest. He just smiled sarcastically at you. His eyes fixed on you as he took your mug off of the shelf. You reached for it but huffed when he turned around to make himself coffee. In your mug. He knew damn well that you don’t drink coffee. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making myself a drink”

“That’s my mug, give it back!” at that, the machine started pouring coffee into your tea mug. You audibly gasped, and looked at him as he raised it to his lips. He took a sip and sat in his chair. Now, the next thing you did was a little petty, but sometimes it’s necessary.

The minute he put the cup on the isle, you walked to him with a smile and grabbed it.

“What are you-” before he could finish the sentence you teleported away with a mug full of coffee, and a satisfied smile on your face as you sat on the chair in your room.

The two girls in the room looked at you in question as you took a sip and scrunched your face at the bitter taste.

“What have you got there?”

“Coffee”

“Don’t you hate coffee?”

“It’s awful.”

“Then why are you drinking it?” Wanda tilted her head.

“So Bucky won’t get to drink it.” You answered and took another sip.

“Have you thought about maybe pouring it down the drain?”

“Nope, I’m going to drink it.” You took another bitter sip, “spite runs the world.”

“We really have the work cut out for us, don’t we?” Natasha looked at Wanda who sat on the bed beside her, she nodded and you shook your head at your friends.

“Just say what you want to say, but my answer won’t change.”

“Do you really think this is all hatred without an ounce of attraction?” Wanda tried, you appreciated her being gentle but they were wrong. Maybe at the start- when you two first met, you did feel some type of way toward the man, but things were quick to change.

“It really is nothing but that. Look, there is nothing in our behaviour that suggests otherwise. I really don’t understand why you guys think that we are secretly in love, you should be trained at reading people well. Oh how the mighty fall…” you put an overdramatic hand on your forehead, drenched in sorrow.

You quickly opened your eyes to dodge a pillow throwing your way by the widow, okay maybe you had it coming with that one.

‘It’s a lost cause with her, Nat. she will come to us when she is ready.’ Wanda sent a thought to Natasha.

'She really is blind, yet she has the nerve to accuse us on not reading people right.’ The redhead shot an eye roll at Wanda who was quick to change the subject then, claiming you have a lot of clothes you have yet to try on.

“All I’m saying man, is that you don’t have to yell 'on your left’ every time you pass me by.”

“I am only warning you about me coming your way.” Steve had a shit eating grin on his face.

The other supersoldier sat there laughing alongside his friend. It all stopped when suddenly you showed up, in a pretty little dress, riding up slightly as you tried to reach your mug. All thought escaped from his head.

“You put it up there, didn’t you?” Steve then nudged his arm and his eyes rose back to yours, taking a moment to get his composure back.

“I don’t know what you are talking about doll. But I’m sure you can reach it on your own, unless you want some help, or a stool perhaps?” he walked towards you, smiling as he saw your cheeks blush.

He could barely hear what you said as he stood in front of you, barely an inch separating your chests as you stuck your finger in the middle of his. He just smirked as he took your mug and made coffee for himself. He took a sip and went to sit back in his chair, almost laughing when he heard your gasp.

His victory was short lived though because the next thing he knew, you flashed a beautiful smile at him and then disappeared with his coffee. He continued looking at where you were, a small smile playing on his lips.

“So, I’m glad to see you’re having fun with your little girlfriend.”

“She is not my girlfriend, come on stop with that nonsense.” Bucky groaned.

“You went all heart eyes when she teleported here, you must really like purple huh?” Sam teased.

“I don’t know Sam. It could be the purple, the dress… the girl.” Steve joined in. he always loved teasing Bucky, but he was also hoping his stupid friend would just admit to liking the girl.

“I don’t like her; she is so annoying, so stop wasting your time on this!”

“That’s not what you said about her the first time you met her though.”

“What did he say about her?” Steve questioned, this new piece of information catching his attention.

“He was all heart eyes, calling her his doll, saying he liked her with her dagger…”

“Sam that was a long time ago, things change.”

“I don’t know Buck, a lot of things change in our lives, but do you really think that changed?” Steve offered, the 21st century was different and new to both of them, but he knew Bucky through it all and he knows him too well to let him throw this chemistry away.

Bucky in turn, huffed and left the kitchen.

It was definitely a party for something- you were sure of it. It’s just that Tony usually made up things to party for. But with your day to day job it was a nice break.

You were in your room getting ready for the party when there was a knock on your door. Steve came inside and sat on your bed.

“You look lovely Y/N!” he is so polite, you loved it. Looking down on your fine dress, it was a navy blue dress with a high-low skirt, it cascaded on your legs, you felt confident in it, but it is always nice to hear it from someone else.

“Thank you Steve, I see that Tony finally made you wear a tux?”

“His nagging became too much” he groaned in a laugh.

“What happened to mister stand like a tree and say no, you move?” you imitated him as you put on your silver earrings.

“Huh, I guess tony has a talent.” The two of you laughed.

“So what did you want? You must have come here for something.”

“I just wanted to talk to you. You know, back in the day Bucky would drag me to festivals and parties to dance and be with the dames. He is a real charmer.”

“Was” You huffed, but he just continued talking.

“One time he convinced these two girls to come with us to this science exhibit. They didn’t really pay attention to me, but they were hooked on his every word, especially this dark haired girl- I think her name was Clara? Well she married some doctor in the war, but nonetheless she gushed about Bucky one day when we saw her, it was after the serum thing.” He seemed to get lost in thought.

“Steve? That’s a very nice story and all but if Natasha sent you to try to make me like him then I’m sorry to tell you but-” you put on your heels and tied them.

“Natasha didn’t send me, I came here alone-”

“Title of your sex tape”

“You know no one finds that funny” you knew that. You shrugged, they all just groan when you say that but you couldn’t care less. He just shook his head, “Anyways, I’m here because I care about Bucky. He is my best friend and I want him to be happy and I know that you two can be happy together.”

“You don’t know that Steve, you just want it to be true. Why don’t you set him up with some girl? All those agents are basically drooling when they see him around the tower.” You sighed, “Maybe in some alternate universe where I like him or he likes me, maybe then we could be civil with each other. But I don’t like him, and he doesn’t like me. Call it a mutual agreement. You’re a good guy Steve, but don’t push this because it just won’t happen.”

With a comforting hand on his shoulder, you got up and got Steve out of your room so you could finish getting ready. You shook the thoughts about the conversation out of your mind, absolute nonsense, you shouldn’t let it linger and cloud your thoughts.

The party was loud, and you found yourself talking to a cute agent when he suddenly turned red, eyes wide, and muttered a quick apology before scattering away, leaving you confused.

“Well well well, are you planning on getting a victim tonight?” that low voice made you mentally curse as you turned around.

“From what I hear you were quite a charmer back in the day, don’t know where all that went though, so if anything you are collecting victims with every person you talk to. Poor people really.” You nodded your head in faux sadness.

“I am a charmer, if I wanted to, I’d charm you but you are just not worth it doll.” He sipped from his drink, it didn’t affect him but the habit was still there.

“Yeah right, all talk and no game, I haven’t seen a single doll coming your way. You’re thinking too highly of yourself I’m afraid.”

“Nah I’m doing just fine. I don’t see you getting any though.” He smirked at that and downed his drink, setting it behind you on the bar and taking a new one from a passing waiter, not moving from his place in front of you.

“I would be, but you scared him off! You with your murder stare” you yelled at him.

“I did no such thing! It’s your fault for choosing poor no backbone guys.”

“You’re a dick, Barnes.” You shook your head at him. Was your face hot from the drink or from your anger?

“Whatever you say doll” his cheeky grin never wavered from his face.

“Oh fuck off!”

“Language” You both looked at Steve who was sitting in a chair, on the bar, a little bit away from the two of you.  The two of you burst out laughing at that, as he tried to explain.

“It was one time guys, come on. It just blurted out!” his face was bright red.

“Title of your sex tape!” you said and looked at Bucky as the two of you laughed even harder at your friend. From the laughter Bucky put his hand on the small of your back. You pretended not to notice.

The party started to calm down when this one girl who Bucky talked to during the night wrapped her hand over his right bicep.

“So, what do you say, we can take it back to my place? You can tell me all about your special missions.”

He laughed and looked behind her as you sat with Tony and Pepper.

“Nah, I think I’ll stay here instead.” He nodded to her as she huffed and went in her purple gown towards the elevator.

“What happened to that girl who was flirting with you, Barnes?” tony asked as he sat down with them. He looked over Tony’s shoulder as you talked to Pepper.

“I guess she just wasn’t my type” he sighed.

tags: @callmeluna @sstanbarnes @buckys-other-punk @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ 

[jbbuckybarnes]

We need to talk...

I knew that this topic of interactions will come up again, because it has never been talked all the way through, so I had this drafted for a while. So much of this old draft still resonated with this permanently unfinished discussion that I just had to edit it and post it, because I feel like it has to be said and put into one post. We can’t keep starting this conversation and then make it so dramatic that there is no conclusion or compromise. The only reason this time is more mellow is because people have better standards for this stuff due to a pandemic going on. This is written for the MCU fandom, but I’ve seen this go down in different fandoms, so here we go:

Things that are NOT at fault for readers not interacting:

The Readers. Should be clear after asking them again and again. And nothing changing. The readers at large are not at fault for a couple people being demanding or hateful. Neither are they at fault for this website and other social medias automatically putting writers at a disadvantage. They do their best with the time they have in their life (just like writers). And after asking them over months to try and reblog more and not much changing, it should be obvious that it isn’t where the problem lies. At least not 95% of it. NOW:

Things that ARE at fault for readers not interacting:

Pushing them, thinking they owe you stuff, while you tear other writers down saying that nobody owes them stuff. That happens time and time again. To me, to friends, to writers I check in with. Don't expect community to come to you when you don't come to them.

Not putting anon asks off when demands and hate get too much. It’s literally THAT easy when people get nasty. It’s sad for the nice anons, but they will understand. Save your mental health! Save the mental health of people reading that hate on their dash. I don’t know how many people constantly answering to hate I have unfollowed and I’m sure people have unfollowed me for doing the same.

Ego and hypocrisy. You can't say numbers aren't a problem and then say they are. In the same post. AND then also deny it later in some of the cases we’ve seen in recent months. Yes, that happened. In several fandoms where this topic comes up semi-regularly. And that might also be the reason people are tired of this stuff and speak out against it.

The fact Tumblr is only used approximately twice a year by most people. And has a shitty tag system. And a shitty algorithm. You are at an automatic disadvantage.

The fact some of you can't understand that 3-5% of your following interacting is a good and normal rate on pretty much all social media. The bigger you get in followers, the bigger the gap gets between followers and interaction (and demand and hate). There are literal statistics on that. 1% interaction at 10k is still good for a platform you have no power over!

The fact some of the people here call anons *haters* for pointing out that you interact w the same 10 people, making that speace seem excluding, when it's literally true what those people say!? Nothing wrong with only support the same 10 people on your blog, but then don't say that you practice what you preach (cause you don’t). You can’t demand more interaction when you don’t interact more yourself. That is how it works, for anyone, not just people of a certain follower count. If I reblog more fics, my blog gets more clout. Logical conclusion. Works for everyone. You have no time for that? Then don’t expect more back. It’s called SOCIAL media for a damn reason.

Telling people asking for Tumblr advice to interact more to make new friends but being the most defensive/indifferent person once they talk to you in DMs. Yes, that keeps happening and I know it from either my own experience or from others sharing their experiences with me. It’s kinda sad. It’s more of a minor factor in people not interacting, but I’ve seen it enough to mention it.

Making shitposts and personal posts all day and then saying you don't have the time in your life to interact w peoples' writings. Like, drabbles exist on almost anyone's masterlist. 5 minute read, easy support for a writer that might be losing motivation. Not every work has to be written like a novel to be great as hell or “quality proven.”

Oh, and there hasn't been a MCU movie in a while, making most of our readership probably currently not care about the fandom as much. Especially after Endgame ended up being a total opinion splitter.

Bonus: The misunderstanding that pushing shy readers to interact does the exact opposite. Not to start about the fact that we are in the middle of a pandemic at the moment. That means they may not have time to read and you may not have time to write. Normal. Logical. The same reason lots of people currently don’t publish. Don’t expect anything predictable and controlable out of current times.

Bonus: Check how you connect interactions to self worth and worth/fun of your writing hobby. Define what success means for you in this space, otherwise you will never be satisfied. It won’t matter if a post has 1k reblogs, you’ll always want more, because you chase an infinite metric.

Bonus: Maybe take a month to concentrate on community, getting outside of your bubble that you deny but very likely have (I’m not excluding myself from this), and actually improve interactions. Some people seem to have forgotten that when you interact with other writers, they probably interact back. Surprise! Your followers already know your tried and true fanfic friends, they want some new stuff without searching for it. Basic Marketing knowledge, know what your audience wants. If you do this for the interactions you gotta look at it from a marketing standpoint and not a pure passion standpoint. Oh: And maybe they find you interacting in the notes of someone else’s post and become an active follower. Win-Win-Win situation.

Bonus: Community is a loop, a net of interactions. Some people here have clique behavior, sound defensive and/or simply don't practice what they preach. That is not me or anyone else hating on specific blogs (I’m also no complete exception), it’s people trying to tell you that you can’t ask for shit you don’t practice yourself. Nothing wrong with supporting your friends only, but then don’t go around expecting new people to find your stuff. It’s literally THAT simple. You can’t have both!

Bonus: Ignoring some of the ride or die readers that are already there. Some of the people on here wish they had that and it’s deadass taken it for granted by some. Meanwhile I'm sitting here with Serotonin levels like christmas when someone I know reblogs my stuff and my fic gets some clout. Imma repeat myself: If you do it for the numbers, you gotta look at it more like marketing and less like pure passion.

And again: You are on a social media platform that will always put you at a disatvantage. That is not the readers' fault. It's how social media works at this point. If you want as much interaction as you can without putting in more interaction work yourself, simply share your works on here, AO3 and Wattpad simultaneously. Problem solved.

Bottomline: If you want more love on your work you gotta go beyond what you currently do, since it’s clearly not working for you. Reblog stuff from people you don't know. I don't give a sh*t if it's a 5k or a 100 follower blog. Hell, there is the whole 366 reblog challenge and some of you deadass went on reblogging the same people when that’s not really what this was made for. I, personally, haven't run out of new people to reblog, so this shouldn't be hard. Actually take time to talk to people in DM's, it takes 10 minutes in the evening to write a few people a message asking how they are or sending a cute gif. If you want stuff, you have to give it. Not leave it. People have come to me before, telling me "the community doesn't owe you stuff", no, they don't, but they do owe if they wanna be owed something back or even demand to be owed something back. Community is about back and forth. You give, you get. It's work, cause it's a big hobby. If you don't have time, that's cool, but then don't be sad about lower interaction. It’s logical that low activity from you leads to low activity from others in the long run, unless you do something worldshakingly new. You don't wanna look beyond a circle of friends or your go-to writers much? That's fine, but don't be upset about barely new people interacting cause they feel excluded or simply don’t find your work because of the same people seeing the same people reblogging the same works. What's not fine is not seeing how readers are NOT THE PROBLEM.

I haven’t talked to a single person about this that DIDN’T find the posts surrounding it demanding and completely ignoring the arguments some others had...repeatedly. Every single time it came up. Not just once but time and time again, whenever this topic comes up. You want interaction? Interact. You don’t want hate? Don’t give it a platform. As harsh as that sounds, I’ve never felt better on this platform since I put anon asks off, even when I miss the nice anons. They probably understand. PS: Again, this was written a while ago and edited to fit into a more general context now. I hope people can discuss this in a civil, non-judgmental way, because that is how I tried to write this. This is not again a specific person or group, it’s pinpointing what I see repeating for two years on this platform now, in all corners. I’d also like to mention that we are still in a pandemic and lives have never looked so vastly different, so you can’t demand anything normal in this very not normal time. Even if you do it all right, your interactions dropped in the pandemic cause people likely stay away form this platform for mental health reasons. There is so many layers to look at, these clearly aren’t all, but I hope it makes some people think about what and when they complain. Numbers will never satisfy you, they will always leave you wanting more if you don’t know why you do what you do and for what. Anyway: Be nice to each other and me in the notes in case this gets shared! No drama please! Ignore any grammar and typo mistakes, lol. Love ya!

[mercurytrinemoon]

Me chaotically pondering on not being master of your own fate aka why even bother with anything but spoiler alert: it’s pretty comforting actually

I was watching The Astrology Podcast episode on zodiacal releasing with Chris Brennan and his guest Leisa Schaim and they mentioned how when they first learnt about this technique, they had this internal crisis around free will vs fate and things like that. Because modern western astrology treats everything from more of a psychological viewpoint. And this is actually one of the issues I have with modern astrology: it offers something that it later on dismisses with the free will cop-out. Which, if you think about it, can as well mean that you can shove the entire thing up your ass.

Traditional astrology (and as far as I know, vedic as well) is more straight-forward with telling you how it is: “nah, you’re going to be miserable up until you’re 40 and you’ll get married a year later and your wife is going to be awesome but she’ll die before you and your career is going to take off when you’re 50 so don’t even bother earlier in life” lol. My example is pretty extreme but I actually dig this approach a lot more because I always liked the idea of things being predetermined; things being fated. To be honest that soothes me a bit, knowing that whatever is supposed to happen, is going to happen. Like, imagine you REALLY want a certain job, sure, you can work hard to heighten your chances of getting it, but doesn’t it calm your nerves knowing that if it’s meant to be, then you’ll get it anyway??? You don’t have to stress about it. 

And it makes sense considering I like to look for certain signs along the way. Or thinking that everything you do in life has purpose and there’s a reason in timing? I’m sure everyone has at least one thing in their life where they go “damn, I wish I did this earlier or did this instead” or something like that. Well, maybe it was supposed to be like that? Maybe I was supposed to try out 10 different creative fields in my teens and 20s to finally came back and stick to music? Even if it means I’m never going to be nowhere near as great at guitar as John Mayer is? Maybe I was supposed to start studying astrology later than I wish I did? Maybe I was supposed to miss out on that one opportunity because if I took it then, I would blew it to pieces? Because I wasn’t mentally ready for it? And I have to wait a bit to take it the next time? Maybe Lady Gaga was supposed to be rejected by all those recording companies because those would ruin her carreer? Isn’t that reassuring? 

I really liked one example from the podcast where they talked about a guy who had an idea to pursue illustration. He quickly gave up because he thought nothing is going to come out of it. Years later he was hired at an animation company and now he has a successfull carrer. So eventually it did work out and this is what was suppose to happen. And you could clearly see it with the zodiacal releasing technique (and probably some others cause they usually overlap)... But even without the astrology aspect, it’s a great story.

It kind of also ties into my issue with manifestation. Fans of law of attraction are going to hate me for this so a lil warning. But I always thought that if someone wants to manifest something, it shows interest with that topic in the natal chart, which also means that there’s a possibility of achieving it. So, you didn’t manifest anything, you just were already predisposed to having it. 

Not to discredit law of attraction completely, I did notice it working on a small level. But, let’s be honest, if it was that easy to manifest, the world would be a total mess. And people who are like “I manifested 10k dollars in a few days” who act as if they just found it on the street... Gimme a break.

Obviously not every small thing is set in stone. There are accidents that can be prevented. You’re not doomed or anything. Although, interesting fact, there was this famous Polish astrologer, Leszek Szuman, who calculated people’s dates of death, wrote it down, sealed in envelopes so that others would see if he was right AFTER they die. Anyway, the thing is, he was correct with all of them. But, if I remember correctly, he gave a several potential dates. So yeah, I’m gonna end on this pessimistic note lol.

K bye

[retronator]

The last 10 years of pixel art

Retronator the blog is exactly 10 years old right now (+ an hour or so more since I can’t seem to stop editing this post)!

I want to take this opportunity to look back at the teenage years of the 21st century and reflect on how the pixel art scene has grown over the years. I only promise a personal perspective, pieced together from my faulty memory and a bit more reliable archive of 1,700 posts on this blog.

2010

Social media sites emerged already in the late 2000s (Facebook launched in 2004, Twitter in 2006, Tumblr in 2007), but it took quite some time before they caught on, especially outside the US. I joined Tumblr in July 2010 and there were relatively few pixel artists active on the site. @jinndevil​ and @unomoralez​ go the farthest of those that I followed. The first post I reblogged was a Back to the Future piece from @megapont​ (via some blogpost share, since Megapont duo didn't join till 2013).

What was huge on the network however was sharing retro-gaming artworks by blogs like @it8bit​ and @gameandgraphics​. This included many pixel art pieces and it helped grow a community of fans that adored both old games and pixels.

2011

I'd put 2011 down as the start of the hi-bit era of pixel art games, championed by the release of the iconic adventure game Sword & Sworcery. Pixel purism of the initial pixel art movement was left behind by mixing pixels with high-res special effects like soft shadows and vignetting. Also, spaghetti legs started their fad period.

Artists such as @probertson​, @drewpixel​, and @merrigo​ started their days on Tumblr, gathering huge audiences over the years. Meanwhile, Retronator grew to a whooping 100 followers by the end of the year.

2012

Tumblr's fan spirits were going stronger and stronger, to which I threw my own logs on the fire by releasing Tribute, my biggest and most popular piece of fan art I created so far.

The highly anticipated FEZ got released (to critical acclaim and other more controversial consequences), further bringing pixel art in front of the mainstream gaming audience.

From newly-followed artists, @johanvinet​ was damn inspiring with his smooth animations. Anything GIF did immensely good on the Tumblr dashboard.

2013

This was THE year for Tumblr. So many new artists joined, it was hard to keep track. Anyone from established names like Mojang's art director @jnkboy​ and @konjakonjak​ of Noitu Love 2 fame (later Iconoclasts) to pixel art beginners such as @waneella​, now one of the most well-known illustrators in the scene.

The push for modern art direction with pixel art games wasn't stopping either. Not that amazing, more traditionally styled titles (with fresh color palettes) weren't present, as Chasm's debut on Kickstarter showed, but it was Hyper Light Drifter that really stole everyone's heart (machine) on the same crowdfunding platform. Gradients and smooth dynamic shading became unapologetically part of the pixel art (gaming) vocabulary from then on.

When Papers, Please got released at the end of the year to universal appraisal, a new example was set for showing that pixel visuals don't necessarily need to be the most polished, technically-impressive pieces of artistic expression, they can also be simple—the majority of detail-filling can be offloaded to the player's imagination.

2014

Pixel purist ideology was a highly debated topic. Dan Fessler, the background artist on Chasm, did a strong push against the tighter set of constraints which said you should only use 'clean' tools such as the pencil and color fill to complete your artworks. Dan instead only cared about clean results, pioneering in the process the technique of HD Index Painting that used the depths of Photoshop layer magic to get otherwise identical results. And there were plenty of others right around the corner that wouldn't even care about keeping the results married to traditional pixel art ideals.

Still, the majority of pixel art at this point was very orthodox. I started the Artist Feature series that showcased my favorite artists and none of them did anything controversial (nor they needed to). The biggest break from the old days was mainly highly increased color counts that allowed for subtle transitions without dithering, and free color picking without creating predefined color palettes. Octavi Navarro started his highly iconic @pixelshuh​ scenes, and the completely unknown @8pxl​ started her journey towards experimentation with pink sky gradients.

Even more importantly, Pixel Dailies were born on Twitter, following Ben Porter's 365 days of doing pixel art daily.

2015

I called 2015 The Year of Pixel Dailies in the end-of-the-year article in my newly started Retronator Magazine. The Twitter community really exploded this year, bringing in many new artists to the medium, with Pixel Dailies serving as a platform to raise visibility to everyone, old and new. I found out about @weilarddrake​ and @orange-magik​ this way, Slynyrd, @iceztiqarts​, @igorsandman​ … Other freshly-discovered people on tumblr were @kirokazepixel​ (one of the most prolific artists on the scene), @faxdoc​ (his learning journey was inspiring enough for its own article), and Talecrafter with @deathtrashgame​ (starting a whole new style of aliased, low-res painting without caring about individual pixels).

The discussion whether pixel art could survive past its nostalgic roots was still in the air, stirred by opinions such as A Pixel Artist Renounces Pixel Art. History is proving them wrong however, with pixel art stronger than ever in 2020. It's not a visual language people born after the 80s couldn't understand.

New-school voxel art pieces started trending with the advent of Magicavoxel, pioneering the development of pixel art's sibling in 3D. The first pixel art convention Pixel Art Park was held in Tokyo. And (important for me personally), I came up with Pixel Art Academy, an adventure game that would take my ambitions in pixel art education into the future.

2016

After 9 years in development, Owlboy released! Also Hyper Light Drifter! And Stardew Valley! And Kingdom! Pixel art games were not dying, they were on the rise.

Edge (the popular British video game magazine) published a special 200+ page issue called Art of the Pixel. It featured contemporary artists outside the gaming context, championing the aesthetic's transition from its video game roots into its own art form.

Pedro Medeiros of @studiominiboss​ started his famous series of GIF tutorials, subsequently encouraging many others to share their knowledge in the popular square format. Tumblr still saw new artists joining the platform, such as @motocross-arts​ and @apolism​ (two thirds of the Japanese trio The Ultimate Pixel Crew), while others like @6vcr​ started their first pixel explorations that year. @brunopixels​, an old-schooler on the platform like me, sparked the Octobit movement, a pixel art alternative to Inktober.

2017

Further new names on Tumblr included @guttykreum​ (outdoorsy perspective pieces) and @scrixels​ (one of the most consistent daily posters with over 1,000 artworks by now).

The annual Shibuya Pixel Art Contest joined Pixel Art Park at promoting the art form in Tokyo, Japan (and worldwide really). Lospec became the new go-to resource site for pixel art, picking up the mantle from PixelJoint and Pixelation that—while still active—stagnated technologically and feature-wise.

More than anything, pixel art games were everywhere. Maybe it only seemed to me this way since I was able to go to the Game Developer's Conference as press and had the chance to interview many many people in the scene, leading to over half a year of daily content on this blog. Indie games felt stronger than ever with so many of us full-on realizing our dreams of creating our own games professionally. The one that left the biggest splash on the scenes was no doubt The Last Night, announced front and center in-between AAA titles during Microsoft's E3 conference. The brothers Soret pushed the art direction even beyond the hi-bit era moniker, fusing 3D, shaders, and modern cinematography with pixels in an iconic combination that, like Sword & Sworcery's spaghetti legs, was so atmospheric that it couldn't be resisted by future imitators.

2018

Another game that pushed technological boundaries was Pathway, finally stepping into full light in 2018 and releasing one year later. I still think it has the most advanced pixel art graphics engine to date, using voxels and other tricks under the hood to deliver a completely dynamically lit environment while retaining the pixel-perfect 3/4 view aesthetic. Pixel art games were firmly part of mainstream gaming by now, with Celeste winning many awards alongisde pixelish Return of the Obra Dinn, further cementing the presence of pixels as an ever-evolving medium capable of expressing very different art styles.

I decided to focus solely on developing Pixel Art Academy in 2018, putting this blog on relative hiatus with very sporadic updates towards the end of the year. But I never let it die. I thoroughly enjoy writing about the scene and my interest in the art form only grows with time.

2019–2020

Ironically, the closer the years are to the present, the less I remember what things stood out most. Maybe it's because my brain hasn't had the chance to automatically prune my memories yet from the overload of information that is the interwebs these days. Pixel art seems so out there, so much of my everyday life, encompassing me on Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, Facebook, Reddit, DeviantArt … Even on TikTok you see kids zooming out of their freshly pixelized Minecraft photographs they call pixel art. The medium is alive, and more than ever.

As for the Retronator blog, from its zero followers exactly 10 years ago, it grew to 100 after a year and a half, 1000 the year after, 10k when it was 5 years old, and 30k just last month. Tumblr is still the platform where most of you follow my pixel art reports and I don't intend to stop anytime soon.

Here's to the next decade! Thank you all for reading. <3

[adonis-koo]

tease

| 3 |

↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,  

Word count: 10k

Previous | Next

Tags: brief female masturbation, light sexual content, nothing really graphic , Slight dry humping, heavy sub/dom overtones,

Song mood

Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter present them.

----

“So the good news is Seulgi did get the job! I’m really happy for her, I just can’t help but be concerned about the sleazy guys she’ll encounter though…” You were chipperly talking over your set of pancakes before glancing up, your expression dimming slightly to see Hanjae on his phone, not looking particularly interested in whatever you were talking about.

Sighing you swallowed your next bit harshly, quietening down, were you droning on again? He always said you had a bad habit of rambling. You didn’t want to be boring.

Licking your lips you peered back up at him before humming out, “Who are you talking too?” Maybe he’d be a bit more interested in talking about what he had been up to the past few days?

“Does it matter?” Hanjae rose a brow sharply, looking up from his phone making your pupils widened slightly. Oh...you didn’t...you didn’t mean to…

Fidgeting under his brisk gaze your lips quivered into a frown, “O-oh...I didn’t mean it like that, I...I was just wondering…”

Hanjae only pinched the bridge of his nose though, sighing as he set his phone down looking exasperated. A pit set in your stomach as you glanced down at your half ate set of pancakes, your appetite gone as you frowned, you didn’t mean to upset him. Or make him put down what he was doing. You wanted to do damage control but more days then less you always seemed at a loss of what to do or where to begin.

“Look it’s great that Seulgi got the job but it’s just…” Hanjae waved a dismissive hand before his nose scrunched up in that familiar disdain. “It’s a strip club Y/n, don’t you think it’s a little desperate?” Desperate, you fucking hated that word.

“What do you mean?” You didn’t even know why you were asking to begin with, Hanjae was very traditional and it wouldn’t be hard to guess why he didn’t like strip clubs, but still. Wasn’t that being a bit harsh? He didn’t know any of the strip workers personally, they all had a reason to be there.

“They’re selling their bodies for money Y/n, how is that not desperate?” Hanjae laughed a little at his own words before leaning back in his seat, clearly amused by himself, “I just thought Seulgi had a little more self respect but she does enjoy proving everyone wrong doesn’t she? What? What’s with that look? Don’t tell me you actually support her Y/n.”

Finally you set your fork down, trying to not let your frustration show as your frown furthered, “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t support her Hanjae? Look that’s her life, frankly it’s none of your business what she does and where she works...I..I’m sure being a stripper takes a lot more work than any of us even realize.” You had fumbled in your wording because hearing him say that had hurt. It hurt because it was indirectly aimed at you as well, it would have been had he ever found out you were working alongside Seulgi.

You didn’t like keeping secrets though, you wanted to be open with Hanjae in every aspect of your life. You wanted to give your heart and even more to him but...you were scared. Even with your relationship going on for a little over a year, you were too scared because ultimately, would he accept it? You were beginning to feel like a burden more days then less if you weren’t in bed with him.

But you didn’t just want to be his go too when he needed a quick fuck...you wanted him to give himself just as much as you were but...you understood that was probably asking too much. Not everyone gave love so passionately, or as willingly as you did.

“Work?” Hanjae began laughing as if you told the world's funniest joke, his smile bright and energized as he slapped his leg, “What’s so hard about flashing a crowd of people? It seems like a cop out to getting out of working hard at an actual job to me. What’s got you so defensive though? I didn’t realize you felt so strongly for strip workers.”

Your gaze stayed on the table, nibbling your lower lip as you thought about your next words carefully, “...I just don’t think we can judge when we don’t know the situation, or why they’re there you know? So what if they strip? That doesn’t make them any less of a human being then you or me.”

It was the truth, you didn’t appreciate Hanjae’s dehumanizing and condemning overtones for the topic at hand. You had always felt this way regardless, but being a worker yourself put things into a whole new light.

“Yes, yes you’re right,” Hanjae rolled his eyes as he sighed dismissively while leaning back in his seat, “You know how I feel about it though, no matter how bad a situation is, people can always find a decent job if they really look.”

You sat on his words, not wanting to argue because sometimes, there wasn’t an option. Sometimes there were no decent jobs to take. You had picked back up your knife to cut into your pancakes when you realized.

He avoided your question.

Watching him pick back up his phone as he resumed his conversation with whoever he was talking too. You didn’t have a single right to feel jealous given what you had been up to the past few days. But you didn’t actually cheat on him. You didn’t want to cheat on him. More then anything you were beginning to feel frustration bubble in your stomach. If you were beginning to feel unwanted, and he didn’t want you. Why were you still together?

You hated feeling like this, like you were unwanted. You wanted to be someone’s number one, the first thing they thought of when they woke up and the last when they go to sleep. You wanted to be the air they breathed and the reason they smiled, you wanted to be intoxicated from it.

It wasn’t realistic, that’s what Hanjae had told you, love was supposed to be practical. It was hard work, it was just a way of making sure you wouldn’t die alone. Or at least that was his idea of it.

Before you could even stop yourself the words had slipped from your lips without a second thought, “Hanjae...I think we should take a break.”

“What?” Hanjae asked in surprise, his mouth dropping open in shock as he paused from whatever he had been typing. He looked completely side swiped at your outburst and briefly you felt bad for causing it, “Y/n...where is this all coming from? What do you mean take a break, we don’t need too.”

“I…” you swallowed thickly, unable to hold his gaze as you played with your fingers, “I need a break Hanjae...I’m just...I’m so confused right now. I...I don’t know what I want anymore and...and…” your words were starting to get choked up and the guilt from Jungkook had begun to creep up as your eyes began to water. You were so lost on what to do, you didn’t want to commit infidelity, but Jungkook was so captivating you could already begin to feel your will crumble against him.

It wouldn’t be the case if you had a strong relationship with Hanjae, if you felt loved and reassured that you were wanted, that you were needed. But Hanjae didn’t need you. And it begged the question, did he love you? Did you love him? Outwardly you could easily say it, but internally, deep down you were still holding out on reservation from sensing his reservation as well.

You had been in a relationship for a year, but wouldn’t it just be easier to cut ties and move on? Right? Or was this just an excuse to not feel guilty over Jungkook? You were so confused, you only wanted to be loved, and to do the right thing.

“No.”

Your brows furrowed as your gaze shot up with a sniffle, wiping your eyes as you watched Hanjae’s expression hardened with a sour note as he scoffed, “You don’t need a break we’re just fine Y/n, there’s nothing to be confused about or to figure out on your own. End of discussion.”

Your lips were opening and closing as you gaped like a fish out of water at his harsh words, desperate to get a say in now that you were positive you needed a break to figure out how you felt, “B-but…”

“I said no. There’s no reason to take a break, stop being so dramatic,” Hanjae snapped back, arms crossed over his chest as he rolled his eyes before sighing, “Look I’m going over to Joy’s I'll see you later okay? And drop the break thing, I don’t wanna hear about it when I get back.”

You couldn’t find the will to reply as he got up from the booth, ruffled as he made his way out of the diner.

It wasn’t until the door had shut behind that you finally let the tears burst from your eyes, an ugly sob escaping your lips that had people turning their heads in pity in your direction. Even the waitress had made a point to not stop by your table until you had cried all the tears you could.

—-

Your hands were shaking and your anxiety had been spiked the whole way to Cherry Bomb. Jungkook would be working the floor tonight, which meant it would be your first night of work. You were terrified.

That was the easiest way to put it. Seulgi had instantly spotted you in the crowded hallway looking like a lost puppy before dragging you towards the dressing room where all the other fillers and trainee’s got ready.

That’s where you were currently, feeling completely exposed in what had been thrown at you. You were a stripper now, if you felt exposing in such a short skimpy dress and fishnet stockings, you could only imagine how you’d feel when you’d be on stage. God why did you ever think this was a good idea?

You had just finished applying your lipstick as Seulgi gave your shoulder a squeeze, “It’s not too late to back out Y/n, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I didn’t come this far for nothing Seulgi- Besides I already signed the contract I have to at least do this for a week before bailing.” You weren’t sure if that was actually stated in the contract, but that was your own personal goal at least.

If you could last at least a week, then surely you’d be able to manage longer right? Just aim for a week at a time. Seulgi wasn’t so set on your plan though as she curved a hesitant brow, “And what about Hanjae…?”

You let out a small whine, finally turning to face her, she seemed a lot more comfortable then you in her tight miniskirt and cropped tube top, the heels you both wore, were the dead giveaway that you were strippers. Stripper heels, because only people like you would ever wear such tall shoes, you were almost scared you’d break an ankle in them.

“W-well….” You thought about telling her what had happened earlier that day before deciding against it, there was a time and place for everything and right now, right before you went on your first day of work just wasn’t it, “I don’t know, I mean I’ll deal with it when we get to that point right?”

Seulgi’s lips twitched into a frown before sighing altogether, shaking her head as the door to the room swung open Hoseok standing with hair styled up and it was like the room had become all the more radiant in his presence, “Seulgi are you ready?”

She nodded eagerly before giving you one last look and a thumbs up before standing up and making her way out of the room following behind her mentor. Sinking back into your chair you gave a groan as you massaged the temple of your head. Jungkook would be with you the whole time, there was nothing to be worried about, right?

God this was going to be a long night, you already had a problem stuttering and fumbling in all of your words anytime you were nervous, when you were anxious though? You were already cringing at the idea. Taking one look in the mirror your lips quirked into a frown again. You hardly looked like yourself.

Your face was caked in layers of makeup and your hair had been styled in waves, contrary to the way you normally looked. Plain, that’s how you looked on a day to day basis, or at least that’s how you felt. Tugging against a strand of your hair as you waited for your mentor to arrive. He hadn’t forgotten you, had he?

“So what did a cheap whore like you do to get the kings attention.”

It took you a good five seconds to register that the snide sentence had been aimed at you, confused you straightened up as you glanced over your shoulder, moving your body slightly to get an easier look at the three fillers lounged out waiting to go on stage.

“Um..pardon?” Your lips quivered slightly as you raised your brows, confused as to why they were even talking to you in the first place. Weren’t you supposed to be a bottom feeder? Were you even worth their time? Apparently so as the one in the middle sneered at you, “I doubt you can even give good head so what did you do? Hm? Jungkook would never waste his time on someone like you.”

You had opened and closed your mouth several times making them all laugh mockingly at you, but you were honestly rendered speechless. You hadn’t even done anything and they were already taunting you? Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Your eyes were already threatening to water though, “God how pathetic.” She rolled her eyes before turning in her chair clearly done with you.

You could feel your hands shaking as you swallowed back your tears, now was definitely not the time to be crying. You had jumped in your seat at the sound of the door opening, “Y/n lets go,” Jungkook called from the door, he paused though at the sight of your expression, lips quivering with teary eyes while trying your best- though failing, to hide it.

His eyes shot towards the other three in the room who had all sent him flirty smiles, you had expected him to return it. But he didn’t, except for a clenched jaw and withering glare that had them all quickly returning to their original stance.

You had meanwhile scurried from your position, fumbling to put on your heels as you tried as carefully as you could to walk towards him, feeling way to tall for this to even be okay. To be fair you still weren’t as tall as Jungkook but you were near eye level with him which was probably even more unnerving then having to look up to meet them.

Jungkook had instantly wrapped an arm around you making sure you wouldn’t fall as he shut the door, “What did they say to you?”

Your lips quivered again, crossing your arms as you blinked back the tears that threatened to return, “It’s fine Jungkook, it’s like you said, nobody is going to go easy on me. Lets just go.”

Jungkook didn’t look ready to let it go but for your sake with it being your first night he decided to ignore it for now.

“They’re lucky I was late,” Jungkook huffed as he clasped both of your shoulders, eyes scanning your body up and down making you flustered, but the look in his eyes was more set on your clothes then how tightly they clung to you, “Alright, lookin’ good babygirl. Remember you’re staying with me the whole night, most clients are ironically respectful so don’t worry too much about creeps. We still have them but I doubt anyone’s gonna think twice on it with me around. Let me do the talking and just follow along until you feel a little more comfortable, got it?”

“Yeah…” You nodded meekly as he gestured you to follow, and briefly you missed the warmth of his body being so close to yours. You barely knew him, but you wouldn’t lie, the effects of your relationship as mentor and trainee had helped enough already. He felt safe in such an unfamiliar environment.

Maybe he could sense your disposition as he paused outside of the door that lead to the main floor, Jungkook bit his lip as he sighed, “One warning though: and don’t overthink it. But clients to get...possessive over me. If any of the girls glare at you, just ignore them. While I'd be more than glad-” His smirk was brief before falling, “Unfortunately anyone touching me is practically dead to the girls so for your sake, we need to keep some distance while talking.”

“Well it makes sense…” You murmured tugging on a strand of your hair while nodding, taking a deep breath before asking, “Anything else?”

Pressing a hand against your back as Jungkook opened the door, he let his lips drag against the lobe of your ear, “Smile babygirl.”

Giving you a gentle pushing as he closed the door behind him. He had guided you to the bar for a drink first, as it was tradition for all the strippers to have at least one drink while working the floor. Except Jungkook had explicitly told you it was against policy to actually get drunk, so generally one was the limit for himself.

With your drink in hand Jungkook had nudged your shoulder with his, “Now the first thing you do is scope out a good table, and by good I mean a bored one. Hoseok is taking the left side of the crowd tonight and Seokjin is taking the middle so we’ll go right. There’s at least always three floor workers that split the floor, if there’s more they thread through each section. Look at that table, mixed party, looks like there's a bit of tension between them. That’s where we come in.”

“We’re going over to a table that’s already tense between them?” You furrowed your brows not understanding why you’d have to put yourself in an uncomfortable situation when you were already uncomfortable as it was.

Jungkook gave a small breathy laugh at your frown as he answered, “Mhm, we’re there to lighten the mood. It works most of the time don’t worry. We chose when to go but generally it’s in good taste to at least sit with them through one performance on stage. Now come on, trust me it’ll be fine.”

You sighed but complied as you both walked over. Jungkook really was your opposite, his smile oozed charisma that could win almost anyone over instantly, the table had been extremely tense and you could feel it with every breath you took. But luckily Jungkook seemed to know the right thing to say at the right time, had he always been this good? Or maybe he was just good with people? All the girls at the table had naturally swooned over him, giggling shyly while attempting to flirt with him.

You on the other hand could barely look up from the table, your face getting hotter by the second from the guys. There were only two, but they had instantly perked at the sight of you. Honing in on you alone, Jungkook wasn’t standing for it though and mainly held the reins of the conversation, first introducing you as his trainee and that you were there explicitly to gain experience. You didn’t really understand his tone and why it had such a cryptic meaning.

Eventually you did chime in a time or two, not that any of the girls really cared, all eyes were focused on your mentor.

Your hands had shook the entire time as they tightly clasped together in your lap, you had made sure to stay apart from Jungkook, your shoulders a good distance apart but eventually you felt a much larger hand grab hold on yours. Eyes flicking to Jungkook though he kept talking, his thumb though gently brushed over your hand to try and ease your nerves.

Prying your clasped hands apart to hold one from underneath the table. You had glanced down at the way his fingers tangled in yours, the calloused pad of his thumb soothingly stroking against your skin. You hadn’t even realized the silent breath of relief you had taken as you relaxed against his touch.

The night ended up being not too terrible after that.

----

The last few days had been extremely tiring to say the least, your schedule was crammed to the brim and you were surprised you even had time to breath anymore. Let alone spend the night with Hanjae.

But things with him hadn’t exactly improved either. You still felt like taking a break would immensely help you clear your head and figure it just what you wanted. Was Jungkook just something you liked the idea of because your boyfriend was collapsed asleep once again tonight while you laid awake and frustrated.

Did you still want to be with Hanjae even though he only ever seemed to call you to sleep with you?

You sighed before glancing up at the ceiling. Your eyes were heavy and the lack of sleep was taking over but your body was protesting with every blink of your eye.

You were so confused, why wouldn’t Hanjae just let you have time to yourself to figure everything out? It didn’t necessarily mean you’d be breaking up.

Sighing you let your hand move down your body, it was going to be a sleepless night anyways, you might as well get some enjoyment out of it. You had began stroking down your slit, left over arousal coating your fingers as you made your way up to your clit.

Pushing against the bud softly as you shifted, trying to keep quiet as you let out a soft gentle moan while hitting the sweet spot of your little bud. You’d just have to be patient tonight if you wanted to come at all without waking Hanjae up.

You alternated between soft strokes and rough ones as the feeling your core began to build more pressure.

You could feel your orgasm getting closer and the neediness of your hips taking over as they bucked as your fingers sped up faster. You hadn’t realized the lewd sound your body had been making until you felt the weight beside you shift accompanied by a groan.

“Ah jesus I thought we talked about this Y/n.” Hanjae sighed with a sleepy voice. You had jumped though, hand quickly leaving your body despite its pleas for your release.

All you felt now was embarrassed as he continued, “That’s so gross, if you have to do it go in the bathroom baby.”

It had meant to be playful but you knew Hanjae wasn’t kidding and that’s when you felt shame cast over you. Add a dash of humiliation in the process and you were just about complete emotionally.

You gave a strained laugh as he ruffled your hair before rolling his back to you but you felt a sob catching in your throat.

You hadn’t even registered getting out of bed, gathering your clothes from the room as you silently left. Getting changed in the hallway as you frustratedly shoved away the tears that trickled down your cheeks.

Lacing up your shoes before deciding you couldn’t do it tonight, you couldn’t face him in the morning and whether he liked it or not or thought you needed it or not. You were taking a break. A break from him.

It was already set in your head as you walked down the sidewalk unsure of where you were even going. You knew it wasn’t smart, wandering the streets at this time on your own, it would bring nothing but trouble. But you needed the cool night air in your lungs and a strong need to clear your mind.

Somehow or another that’s how you ended up at the front door to Cherry Bomb which was in full swing. You weren’t even halfway dressed to go in, but working here made it feel a lot different and honestly? You weren’t even sure why you were here.

Cherry Bomb wasn’t going to solve any of your problems yet you pulled the door open anyways, slipping inside the establishment where the lights were almost always in a Cherry red hue and the music blared loudly. You could already feel some stares at your casual attire but you ignored them as you made your way through the crowd and towards the bar.

Taking a seat as you waited to be tended it was Yoongi this time who noticed you as he tilted his head, “Long night?”

“Too long, just get me a strawberry daiquiri.” You sighed as you leaned your hand against your head. Jungkook should be on stage tonight, or maybe he already performed?

That or he’d be in his dressing room getting prepared. But you hadn’t come to talk to him. No if you told him your problems you were sure he’d only make it worse. Unintentionally, but worst nonetheless.

“So what’s up?” Yoongi set your drink down as he curved a brow, you had instantly plucked it up before downing a mouthful, sighing as you looked at the pink liquid. You couldn’t even see its natural color from the LED lighting.

“Nothing, I’ve just been confused. I can’t tell if my boyfriend really loves me anymore or not. Or if I love him.” You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the shaggy, black haired male as you frowned.

Yoongi only clacked his tongue though, not as in despair as you over your dilemma,“Well you aren’t if you have to ask yourself in the first place. The better question is why are you still together.”

You thought over his words before shrugging with a sluggish exterior, it’s not as if you hadn’t tried talking to Hanjae about it, “My boyfriends determined for us to stay together, maybe he does love me?”

“Or he just has someone to sleep with daily,” Yoongi replied making your eyes shoot up in surprise, he only shrugged reserved though, “Not the first time I’ve seen someone only keep a girl around just to fuck with. I don’t know Y/n, this guy doesn’t really seem like he has your best interest at heart.”

“Maybe.” You agreed with a hum as you glanced toward the back room, “Hey...are we allowed to use the backrooms at night?”

Yoongi furrowed his brows before letting a knowing amused smile play on his lips while nodding, “Yeah as long as they’re not in use, strippers come in all the time to blow off steam. Room three is the only on in use. Everything else is up for grabs. Go for it.”

You nodded at his encouragement as you gave one last drink of your daiquiri before standing up and making your way towards the hallway.

You might as well make use of being here. The hallway was different at night, the cherry red gave it all sorts of sexual overtones but you had pushed on regardless towards the back of the hallway to an empty room.

The pole vacant and the lights off until you turned on the LED’s to a purple hue, you’d never get use to stripping if you didn’t start somewhere. Even if it meant being on your own the first few times, and that was okay. You weren’t sure you’d be able to do it in front of an audience before at least trying on your own once.

The thought made blood rush to your cheeks but the room was empty, and no one was scheduled to use it, right? You convinced yourself that was the case as you hooked your phone to the speakers bluetooth, scrolling through your playlist before pausing over a song.

It wasn’t a strip song, but it would work. You hit the play button before setting it down making your way to the stage.

You had leaned against the pole, listening to the music for a moment, feeling so many emotions bubble in your chest at the lyrics reflection on your situation. Did you even wanna strip? You didn’t feel sexy at the moment, you barely felt human.

The reason you chose dance as your major though, was because it was your escape from the world. It was difficult, and forced you out of your head that you constantly were buried in, it made you live as close to in the moment as your mind would allow.

Dancing was always your go to when you were upset, maybe that’s why you were here. Because, stripping and dancing, they weren’t that far apart were they? You had let your hand begin to trail against your other arm, dragging up your skin before palming your neck and down your chest.

Why were you even with Hanjae still? You supposed, you really were a creature of habit and comfort, Hanjae was comfortable, he was safe. You knew what he was like, and how he worked and what you had to do to adjust to it.

You had barely processed your back pressing against the cold metal pole as you slide down the surface.

But was it even love anymore, if you were having to change yourself so much for him? Yoongi’s words rang in your head, were you in love if you had to ask yourself if you were?

Pushing yourself up the pole you had let your hands push under your shirt forcing it to rise, flashing the skin of your stomach.

Would you ever be good enough in his eyes? Good enough to not have to change, to just be accepted for who you were? But now thinking about it, you had that problem with a lot of people. Everyone told you that you weren’t extroverted enough, you weren’t mature enough, you just weren’t enough.

You could feel your lips begin to quiver and frustrated tears begin to blur your vision but you were determined to keep dancing, moving away from the pole as you rolled your body, turning your back towards the pole as you pulled the shirt over your head.

Forcing yourself to become composed again as you let your body roll while letting your hands drag over the open skin of your waist. The air was slightly cold and nipped at your skin, you felt exposed. But you were exposed for yourself in an empty room.

Fitting given you never seemed to be enough for anymore. You felt the bitter smile pull on your lips as you turned back around to face the front of the stage. What did Jungkook even see in you? Thinking you could actually be a stripper someone would want to watch?

You felt dumb now more then ever at the idea, if you weren’t good enough for even your boyfriend, why would you be good enough for a bunch of strangers? Your hands had tangled frustratedly in your hair as you had walked further down the stage, hips swaying on their own before you felt spite pang through you.

What was it with people and assuming because you were shy you couldn’t be sexual anyways? You might not have been as open about it, but you could still be appealing.

Your hands had suddenly dragged down your body to unbutton your shorts as you sunk into a slut drop.

You felt like you were being dragged in two opposite directions, one telling you everyone was right, what was the point in trying if nobody thought you could do it anyways. And yet the other part of you was a spiteful bitch that wanted to prove them wrong, just for the sake of proving them wrong.

You couldn’t fucking stand people assuming so much about you. You rolled onto your back letting your hips thrust fluidly into the air, back arching high as your hands began to push your shorts off.

People could say whatever they wanted about you, but you were going to prove them wrong. Every single one. Your hands had dragged against your thighs to your stomach all the way to your hair before letting your back rest against the ground.

The song had come to an end but the music continued as it shuffled your playlist. Closing your eyes you sighed, the cold nip in the air covering your whole exposed body but all you felt now was tired. You did feel a little better, your head more clear and your goals set in front of you.

This wouldn’t be easy, but you could do it. Opening your eyes you sighed as you sat up, running a hand in your hair as you sighed, the exhaustion hitting your body finally.

It must’ve been nearly, four in the morning and you could feel it in your body as you yawned. You had intended to get up and get dressed. Except for the slow clap that you could hear over the music playing.

Your blood ran cold despite the heat in your face...someone had been here...for how long?

Flustered, your lips parted sheepishly as your head shot towards the applause of a single pair of hands that had been previously leaned against the wall. The dim neon lights of the room had previously shadowed Jungkook’s body, in fact, had he not bothered to reveal himself.

You probably would’ve left none the wiser. Somehow, past all of your humiliation, you weren’t surprised he decided not to give you a peace of mind.

Jungkook had the most predatory smirk on his face that made you instantly curl away as you flusteredly covered your face, feeling too exposed and vulnerable at the moment to even think about looking at him, “Well don’t get shy on me now.”

His voice was too close and too playful for you to even be able to respond as you heard him laugh. If you weren’t humiliated before hand, you certainly were now. You knew it was inevitable, but you didn’t want Jungkook to see you in this light, or at least not giving it your best. Your dance was hardly a strip show and you knew you definitely didn’t look the part either.

And maybe that was why he was laughing at you.

Your lips trembled and you could feel tears pricking at your eyes, if he lost faith in you, then you really must’ve been a lost cause.

“Woah, hey, hey, hey.” Jungkook’s voice had dropped whatever amusement he held at the sound of a sniffle from you, he had been at the front of the stage before climbing up to take a seat next to you, “Why are you crying?”

Your knees had curled closer to your chest and you could feel his large hands wrap delicately around your wrists as his voice softened, you only shook your head as his thumbs stroked against the skin of your wrists, “Was it really that bad?”

He didn’t reply for a second, making you feel like his silence just confirmed it, when in reality he was confused as to why you were asking that before it clicked, sighing softly Jungkook hummed, “Babygirl I would never laugh at you, I just thought it was cute that you’re shy after giving a whole strip show.”

“That was hardly a strip show,” You muttered from beneath your hands, your nerves being soothed by the gentle stroke of his thumbs on your wrists, patiently waiting for you to remove your hands from your eyes, “You and I both know that.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook agreed softly, “But you have to start somewhere Y/n, don’t be so hard on yourself. If it makes you feel any better, you were still better than half the girls I’ve seen.” You could hear the smile on his lips as he shook your wrists a little playfully, “A lot of them just end up doing that weird back thing instead of twerking, kinda looks like they’re having a convulsion while throwing up…”

You found yourself laughing softly along with him as the smile he had been searching for return to your lips. You peeled your hands from your eyes as you wiped them, finally glancing up towards Jungkook, his face just a few inches from yours as you murmured, “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

Jungkook only tsked, grabbed your hands in place of your wrists as he squeezed them to have your full attention, “I’m a lot of things baby, but I’m not a liar,” something about his words had made your chest flutter a little, his eyes were deep and his face was sculpted by the dimmed lights but the sincerity he held still shone brightly, “I can’t lie and I’m not going to start anytime soon, so believe me when I say I’ve seen some really bad dancers. Trust me.”

“Okay…” You resolved with a simple murmur, there was that word again. To trust him, it was more difficult than you had initially thought it would be. You felt so exposed and vulnerable with him, and not just physically, but emotionally as well. So many people had belittled you to the point it wasn’t just easy for you to be so open with him.

“Now,” Jungkook kept your hands in his, the warmth buzzing against your skin and the callous of his finger tips stroking your palms, “What are you doing here? You know I’m not on floor tonight, what happened?”

Your lips quivered into a pout as you awkwardly looked away from him, unsure of how to reply. And a part of you still resisting opening up to him, the squeeze of his hands making him gain your attention again, “I can’t help you if you won’t let me Y/n.”

“There’s nothing that you can really do for me Jungkook...at least on this…” You frowned as your gaze flickered between him and away, “I’m just...taking a break with Hanjae, that’s all, I need to clear my head and figure some things out.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed for a second before he replied, “Hanjae...as in your boyfriend?” his expression twisted into one more of an unimpressed look as he continued, “Was that dumbass the reason you’re here? What did he do?”

You leaned away slightly, feeling a bit overwhelmed by how guarded he was, and furthermore the whole reason you were here...the entire situation made you flush at just the idea of telling Jungkook, “Yes he is, but the problem isn’t just one thing, it’s multiple and has been going on for awhile, I guess it’s just come to ahead for me is all. Hanjae isn’t aware we’re on a break yet but he’ll know in the morning.”

Jungkook only bit his lip for a moment, backing off slightly as if realizing he may have been coming on a little strong, “You know, I don’t really get you...He’s clearly making you more upset then happy, why are you still with him?”

You thought on his words for a moment, he did have a point. Hanjae more days then less was the source of your more stressful thoughts then joyful ones, but there was still good times too. They weren’t all bad, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” You shrugged before sighing, unable to hold his gaze.

“Well babygirl,” Jungkook straightened up slightly as he sighed, “Take it from me, guys who make your eyes more wet then your pussy aren’t worth your tim- ow!”

You glared at him while smacking his arm, and despite his complaint he was already laughing at your red cheeks, “What? I’m just being honest, if you follow that motto you can’t go wrong.”

You looked at him incredulously despite the smile threatening to pull on your lips, “Do you ever think without your dick?”

Jungkook gave you a lazy smile in return as he held his hands up in defense, “I’m but a man babygirl, we’re simple creatures. Now get dressed before I really start using my dick instead of my head...Unless…”

“No I’m good,” You had instantly scooted away making him laugh, that playful smile on his lips that made you notice the dimple on his left cheek that made his smile all the more endearing, “Why are you here anyways, shouldn’t you be on stage?” You had began crawling around, grabbing your clothes, all too aware of Jungkook’s eyes eating away at your exposed body as he leaned back on his hands.

“Finished my last dance not too long ago, the table I lapdanced for said they’d pay for a private show, kinda pushy though for it to be tonight so I came here to set up the room before I brought them in.” Jungkook replied shrugging, “So when I saw this room was in use despite not being scheduled I just wanted to see who was in, I really didn’t mean to stay the entire time but what can I say baby? You have such a nice body, it's a shame you don’t show it more.”

You scolded with red cheeks as you glared at him, making him give you a cheeky smile as he sent a wink your way. You had already pulled the shirt over your head as you replied hotly, “To keep thirsty fiends like you away.”

Jungkook’s smile twisted into a lopsided smirk as he lunged for you making you squeak, keeping you beneath him despite the struggle as he replied, “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it,” His hands were already roaming beneath the shirt you had just put on as your face turned red and your body was flaring up, “Look at you all flustered and shy and yet you still aren’t telling me to stop,” Jungkook had a cocky smile on his face as you whined, refusing to even look at him as he squeezed the skin of your waist, “You know that’s all you have to do right? Just say it Y/n, tell me to stop and I will.” He gave you another minute as you still wiggled beneath him, your face hot red and your words stuck in your mouth as he leaned in, grabbing your chin to force you to look at him, “But let’s face it, you don’t want me too, do you?”

“Jungkook...” You whined feeling embarrassed by his words, partially because he was right, you didn’t want him to stop and your body was more than willing to listen to his every demand. But you had also just decided on taking a breather from your relationship, your boyfriend not even aware of it himself.

Jumping into something else so fast was both reckless and inconsiderate of Hanjae, no matter how much he upset you, he didn’t deserve that. But feeling Jungkooks hand’s run up your stomach had you drowning in all of your unkempt hormones as you whimpered.

“Are you gonna let me take care of you baby?” Jungkook cooed out, his voice like liquid honey as he continued petting you, hand’s becoming more rough in his strokes that had your body shuddering, “I’ll eat that pretty pussy right now babygirl, just say the word.”

You were rubbing your thighs together with a whimper, your mind was still hesitate but your body was determined for you to just cave in and say yes, and the idea of his tongue attached to your clit was making your hips tremble at just the idea, “B-but I just decided on my break with Hanjae…” you fumbled out, whimpering at the squeeze of his hands on your hips fiddling with the band of your panties.

“Mmm, but let’s face it baby,” Jungkook hummed out, that smirk on his face that you were beginning to become all too familiar with, “If you really loved him, you wouldn’t let me be on top on you right now. You don’t strike me as a cheater Y/n, which can only mean one thing, he just can’t satisfy you,” His thumbs pressed harder into your hips as he continued, “Emotionally, affectionately, sexually. The whole nine yards baby, that’s what I meant before, why stay with someone you’re so miserable with?”

Jungkook seemed to have come down from his lust filled haze as he got off you, kneeling down as he shrugged, “But hey, I’m not here to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want too babydoll, that’s not what I’m about. If you need time to clear your head then that’s what you should do,”

You had glanced at your lap fiddling with your fingers while lingering on his words before finally grabbing the discarded pair of shorts beside you, pulling them on as Jungkook stood up before offering you a hand, “But seriously,” he hummed, “If he can’t provide both emotional and sexual comfort to you, then you should cut your losses. Doesn’t look good on his part when I’m the one sitting here with you instead of him.” His words, had a sharp edge towards the end making you furrow your brows slightly as he helped you up.

“Maybe I will end things...I don’t know, I just need time to process everything that’s happened.” You hummed reservedly as you fiddled with your fingers again, unable to properly look at him after what just previously transpired. After what he just said he’d do to you on that stage floor.

“Then that’s what you should do baby, I’m not one to dictate. I’m just making an observation,” Jungkook clacked his tongue before letting his fingers capture your chin, his touch more gentle then previously as he made you look at him, “My offer is still on the table though, if you do end up leaving him.”

“Jungkook!” You scolded shoving him slightly making his familiar laugh return in amusement at your red cheeks and flustered glare. He pulled his hands away in surrender before honing in to ruffle your hair.

“I told you I’m an honest guy, in fact, eating you out on stage is gonna go on my bucket list now,” Jungkook was practically howling out laughing at your glare furthering before his expression softened slightly, a small smile on his lips, “Go home babygirl, get some rest for tomorrow okay? I’d walk you back if I could but I still have to get this private show done, so just try and stay safe, okay? Text me when you get in.”

You waved your arms about, feeling more flustered at his words now than before as you replied, “Okay mom. I’ll be fine Jungkook, don’t worry.” You had began to make your way off stage, grabbing your phone while disconnecting it from the speaker.

Jungkook only sighed rolling his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair, “Easy for you to say baby, easy for you.”

----

Waking up the next day, had not been fun in the least. Every sense in your body was groggy and tired and your eyes were heavy, wanting nothing more than to collapse as you dragged yourself out of bed.

You had almost fell asleep in the shower but continued getting ready before heading into Cherry Bomb, how did everyone stay so chipper on so little sleep? You felt like a zombie and probably looked like it too while opening the door to the private room to reveal all of the soloist’s, Some conversing while others were on their phone.

Rosé was currently on stage practicing her routine, you felt in awe watching the confidence that oozed from her as she moved. You could only hope to be that good one day. Stretching your arms over your head as you yawned the tiredness waving through your body as you closed your eyes.

The hands that wrapped around your waist had your eyes shooting open as you jumped while Jungkook smirked, “You just got here babygirl, you can’t be falling asleep on me already.” he had tugged you closer to him making you try and feebishly pushing away, it was just too early in the morning to be this flustered already.

“It’s seven in the morning Jungkook! I didn’t fall asleep until four thirty last night!” You whined out trying to escape his grip, his hands only tightened though as smirk coiled further, at least one of you was bright eyed and bushy tailed that morning.

“That’s good baby, that’s probably when you’ll be going to bed most days anyways so might as well get used to it now,” Jungkook gave your waist a squeeze as you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as he lead you towards the side of the room to begin practice, “C’mon don’t give me that look, let’s get to work.”

The morning was, just as any morning, tiring. Jungkook had been focused mainly on your movement today as it had been apparently lethargic though when you ran on four hours of sleep, could anyone really be surprised. You had rehearsals later that day for one of the college’s theater shows, you often were used as a background dancer for a lot of musicals and you knew you’d have a long day ahead of you.

You always had fun with the theater majors but you were particularly dreading it today with how little sleep you had gotten, it was close to ten when practice would officially be over for you but Jungkook, had paid the time no mind as he squeezed at your waist making you jump, “Come on you’re a dance major I know you can roll your hips better than that baby.”

“Is this really necessary though?” You whined out, refusing to look at him as your cheeks reddened from embarrassment, as if your morning could get any worse Jungkook just had to prove you wrong as you shifted in his lap.

“Sorry babygirl but lap dancing is apart of the job, you can’t escape it forever.” Jungkook tsked as he let his hands move to your hips, making them squirm in sheepishness, “And if you can’t lapdance me then there’s no way you’ll be able too with a stranger; eyes baby.”

You had let out a whine as you felt his hands squeeze at your hips making you jump before obediently bucking your hips, “Come on think of if like riding dick-“ despite your reddened cheeks you had opened your mouth only for him to cut you off, “And don’t tell me you haven’t rode dick or we’re changing that right now.”

You had promptly closed your mouth again before pausing, you and Jungkook both just stared at each other for a minute, his expression saying he really would go through with his words, but you on the other hand was ready to call bullshit.

Squinting your eyes into a glare you finally replied, “That is such bullshit.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to give you an unappreciative glare, obviously not liking the unexpectedly bratty response he had just received, “Oh you think I wouldn’t?”

You watched the glint in his eyes darkened but your own sour expression didn’t falter as you curved a brow scoffing, “We’re in public.”

“Like that would stop me,” Jungkook leaned in closer, you were suddenly well aware of his tight grip on your waist sliding down to your hips as his voice deepened, “It hasn’t before. I should put you over my lap right now for questioning me.” You had jumped at the feeling of his hips suddenly bucking up against yours before grabbing hold of your squirming hips to force them to messily grind his hardening length.

“Not such a smartass now huh,” Jungkook mocked as you whimpered, your face bright red and unable to look at him, choosing to stare more towards his chest as your forearms pressed against his shoulders, “Are you done being a brat?”

Your body was on fire at his manhandling as he made your hips drag down his length making you jump at the feeling of it pressing against your clit, you couldn’t even speak as another whimper bubbled in your throat as he growled, “Don’t ignore me.” You could feel his hot breath along your face but didn’t dare meet his eyes,”Or else I’m going to make your first time with me a lot more memorable than necessary.”

You hadn’t realized Jungkook really did have nerves of steel to be opening grinding you in a public room while openingly talking about fucking you with no problems of an audience. He really was comfortable with his body.

“Are you going to behave?” Jungkook growled out again, his hands squeezing on your waist making you whimper at his harsh touch that left your body aching for more, “Use your words.”

“Y-yes…” You stuttered out quietly, obedience filling your every core being as your hips quivered at his pause, resisting the urge to ride his thigh.

Jungkook had replaced his tight hold with long firm strokes against your waist as he purred amused, “Good girl, now keep going on your own.” You almost choked at the praise making your hips work on their own as they needily dragged against his. Jungkook had gave an approving hum that sounded like a disguised moan as his thumbs kneaded against your hipbones, “Mmm that’s more like it. That’s good enough for today, go any farther and I won’t be able to quit.”

His words almost made you whine in objection but you didn’t dare voice it at the idea he’d genuinely take you serious and keep going. And despite how much your body craved it your mind had wandered to your conversation the night before. You did need time before you could let things go further with Jungkook.

And furthermore was that a good idea? He was your mentor after all, how would that affect your relationship with him? That in itself made you sigh, whether it was in relief or disappointment you weren’t sure.

Jungkook had let out a snicker as he gently stroked at your sides, “Not too bad baby, just gotta work on that pretty little face of yours, can’t have you looking so submission in front of others guys they won’t be as kind as me.”

“Kind?” You huffed under your breath. In what way was Jungkook at all kind in the moment before?

Jungkook had only let the smirk coil on his lips further as he cupped your chin, forcing you to look up at him as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I have self control babygirl, not too many guys can say the same.” Just that playful smug look on his face had you both pouting and scolding.

Was there ever a moment he wasn’t flirting with you? His level of confidence truly was unmatched by anyone you had ever met in your life. He only laughed at you as you pried yourself from his grip as you fumbled to get out of his lap while standing up, “What do you want a sticker for doing the decent thing?”

“Maybe I do baby, you can put it right here with your mouth,” Jungkook had the dumbest grin on his face as he tapped his neck making you scold, finally turning away from him as you buried your face in your hands, why did god do this to you?

“Oh you poor thing,” Rosé cooed out sympathetically as she walked over, “You tease her too much Jungkook.” she huddled you into her arms as you whined but said nothing, letting her chin set on top of your head while babying you, “She’s delicate.”

You could hear Jungkook let out a snort, probably leaning back in his seat while replying, “I’m breaking her in, you think I’m about to let another guy in this seat while she’s still this shy?”

“Yeah but it’s one thing mentoring her, it’s another going full dom, poor thing looked ready to melt.” Rosé pouted out as she ran her fingers in your hair. You found yourself relaxing into her grip, her sweet vanilla body washing comforting you. She had such soothing aura it was difficult to not relax under.

“Well I can only do so much,” Jungkook shrugged before the smirk coiled onto his lips, “Before she’s gonna listen to her instincts and be a good girl. If she can survive me being like this while lapdancing then she won’t have a problem doing it for stiff necked guys with blue balls.”

Rosé only clacked her tongue before breaking your coddling, “I don’t understand the method to your madness but as long as it’s working I won’t judge.”

Jungkook stretched out before standing up, “There’s nothing wrong with having fun while working, ain’t that right babygirl?”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You crossed your arms while closing your eyes, feeling your cheeks light up again while sighing at that dumb cheeky grin his lips seemed to always wear. He really did love teasing you, didn’t he?

You supposed all teasing aside, the nature of your relationship with Jungkook was ironically enough very playful, there was rarely a moment he wasn’t joking or goofing around trying to get you to smile and relax, it was at the very least, appreciated

Jungkook had a knack for being able to tell when you got too uncomfortable or when your nerves started taking over, some moments you wondered if he really was a mind reader. Just like now as he stretched out his neck before beckoning you over, “C’mere babygirl, we have one last exercise we have to go over before you’re free to go, pretty important one too.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, wasn’t all of his training important? You had walked up to him regardless as you hugged your arms around yourself with curious eyes making his lips pulled upwards, “You’ve been making good progress, and while I wish I could keep you in here for longer we both know I can’t. You’ll be put on stage Saturday so we have to catch you up in choreography. I haven’t been worried about it sense you’re a dance major but you’ll be working with the fillers come Wednesday to finish it.”

“Wednesday?” Your eyes widened as panic spread through your veins, “But that’s a day away.”

Sure you were good at picking up choreography quickly, he was right in that assumption, but you were by no means going to be good at adding sexuality into it.

Jungkook shrugged loosely, nowhere near as panicked as you as he replied, “Mhm, and you’ll be just fine. The only problem you’re gonna have is what trouble they’ll give you. Like I said, filler’s can be bitchy but that’s about it. Just focus on yourself, okay?”

Your lips quivered into a frown as you glanced up at him before wringing your hands together, a habit of yours when you were overthinking, “I guess…”

“Hey,” Jungkook replied, grabbing your hands to get your attention again, “No ‘i guess’ okay? I wouldn’t be putting you out there so soon if I didn’t think you’d be okay. Trust me, remember?”

It was always those words, to trust him. It was a lot harder then you really thought it’d be, sighing you let your shoulders drop as you nodded, “Okay....I just,” you inhaled sharply before looking up at him again, “You really think I’ll be fine...?”

Jungkook only gave you a dumb, bunny like smile as he gave your hands a squeeze before letting them go, “One hundred percent babygirl, you might not think that but I know you’ll do fine. Now come on, let’s get started on this choreography.”

----

“What’s the problem?” You sighed, waving your chopsticks around as you sunk into your seat. Currently having midday lunch with Seulgi- who had been ironically enough doubting the decision you had made to make this journey with her.

Seulgi puckered her lips, taking a drink of her soda before sighing while setting the glass back down, quiet for a moment as she looked at you before exploding in words again, “This is just so unlike you Y/n! I mean, you a stripper? I just don’t want you to be hit on by creeps, or booed on stage or-” She waved her hands about exasperatedly before cutting herself off as she sighed solemnly, “The world really doesn’t deserve you Y/n, let alone the strip world.”

“I’ll be fine Seulgi, this is something I chose to do,” You reminded her as you glanced out the large window to the dull grey sky, it was a perfect cozy day to stay indoors and get cuddled up in bed but you still had three classes to attend and a four hour rehersal, the day was far from being over, “You’re always telling me to step out of my comfort zone, and I am. I think it would be good for me.”

Seulgi clacked her lips in thought before finally shrugging, “Well you are right, I do think it would be good for you. But isn’t babysteps like a thing of something? I mean what if Hanjae heard about this? He’ll flip his shit Y/n.”

“Oh he’s already flipped his shit,” You cringed as you gave her a tense smile, making her jaw unhinge as she raised her brows, wanting further explanation as you quickly clarified, “I texted him this morning saying I was taking a break from the relationship. I tried earlier this week but,” You sighed as you sunk back into your seat again, “He wasn’t having it, anyways he’s been blowing up my phone all day about it.”

“Holy shit,” Seulgi breathed out before howling out laughing, she had never liked him to begin with, always saying you could do better than him so naturally, she was gonna be supportive of your decision, “Have you responded?”

“No,” You shrugged making her slap her knee in joy as she continued laughing, even going as far as to wipe an invisible tear of joy from her eye, “He’s just been so controlling and- I don’t know, maybe it’s for the best that we both go our separate ways, I’m not really feeling sparks between us anymore and I can tell he probably isn’t either...he went to go hangout with Joy the day before I texted him about taking a break.”

Seulgi’s face twisted into a scold as she sneered, “That motherfucker! Hangout my ass, good on you babe he doesn’t deserve a drop of your time. The real question is are you going to end things for real?”

You thought about her words for a moment before shrugging, you certainly didn’t miss Hanjae’s presence, but obviously the same couldn’t be said on his end as he had been up your ass the whole day thus far, several missed called, three voicemails and eleven…yes eleven texts, “Probably,” You finally concluded, “I just don’t know if he’s gonna let me.”

And that was your biggest concern, Hanjae had downright refused you when you mentioned taking a break, if you said you were breaking up with him? You couldn’t even imagine how volatile his reaction might become.

“Oh my god.” Seulgi muttered, you were confused at her words at first, mainly because they weren’t directed towards you, her eyes spaced off behind you as you heard a distinct clatter of bells that were tied to the door knob.

Turning around to follow her gaze your face paled at the sight of the very person you were talking about with a hellbent expression stomping right to your booth as you curled into yourself, your gaze hardening as you glared into the table.

You downright refused to even look at Hanjae as he stopped in front of your table, fury melted into his eyes as he snapped out, “Why the fuck have you been ignoring me?”

----

Note: I’m so excited to finally have this up!! I hope you guys are enjoying the story thus far and let me know how you think the plot is progressing and what your thoughts on JK and MC are or with other characters!! I should be back to updating about once every other week so stay tuned and thank you guys so much for your kind words I always love your feedback!! <3

Taglist: @loveherpersona @megladon1616 @pearlneedstosleep @sincerelyjeohn @jungkookies-golden-noona @ironically-indifferent96 @epiphany-playingwithfire @maboiisuga @kookphoria91 @taehyungiev13 @134340ismybitch @appreciatethefoolishness @hanhannguyen98 @lurkerarmy @lovelyjkook @repeating-seesaw-game @serendipity-secrets @kimvantaee @forevermoremagcon @timestandstillalittle @yanmi1

(Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

I've never send you an ask before, but this is very important that you know how much it meant when I found your channel at the start of this year. To see someone my age who looks like me (I'm Brown, but with lots of acne, and curly hair like yours) meant so much to me coz all the authortubers are just supermodels. Love my beautiful queens(!!) but it was also the biggest reason I couldn't start a YT channel. I hope I'm not offending you, but you're voice is so soothing, and you're so talented 1/2

Seeing you in the last couple of months, be as confident as you are, did make me a little self confident too. I wanted to make a Preptober video today, but when I watched it back, all the acne and everything made me feel so bad. Can you give me some advice on how to me more comfortable in my skin, how to be confident enough to film a video, edit and upload it wihtout beating myself up si much. (Again, I hope I have not offended you) 2/2 Love, rev

Oh my <3 this is such a kind, beautiful message, thank you! I talk about the struggle to accept myself in today’s vid, so this is a topic I’ve been thinking about the last few days!

I feel like we’re on the same wavelength here because we’re both brown, have acne, and have curly hair, and oh my! these are three things that I’ve struggled to accept in the past, but that I’ve grown to love. My face wasn’t on the internet at the time of my worst years with acne, but from about age 11-16 I had really horrible breakouts. My skin scars easily, and since it is darker in colour, the scars just end up as dark spots. I remember I used to be so upset that my entire forehead as a young teen was a different colour than my face because of how scarred it was (that was my perception at least). So I feel you, and truly understand the adverse affects these kinds of things can have on your self-confidence, and I wish I could tell you a definitive answer on how I came to love the things I never did love. Growing up not looking like the super white media was not! fun! and I straightened my hair almost daily from the age of 8 until I learned how to style my curly hair last year.

I do have a few tips besides the obvious be kind to yourself!

- Learn how to love the things you’re uncomfortable with.

I mean this in a literal way. I wasn’t comfortable with my curly hair because of how frizzy it got. It was frizzy because I never knew how to style it and combed out all the curls lol! Once I learned how to style my hair, educated myself on haircare, and really created a relationship with it, I absolutely adore it! I’m not saying you have to cover up anything you’re uncomfortable with to feel better--not at all, and I actually stray away from that. I’m saying to get connected to the things you’re uncomfortable with by learning more about it.

The world is so white and so literally everything you’re taught especially if you’re in North America is codified from a white lens. For example, I get these dark spots on my chest & stomach (I think they’re fungal, but don’t know the proper name) and when I was younger, I was really confused and concerned about them because I didn’t know what they were and this was not explored in white media. When I asked my mom I found out they’re just really common for people of my ethnicity and totally normal and fine and just because the Walmart models don’t have them, doesn’t mean I have to get rid of them (and I actually now think they’re so beautiful)! It’s kind of amazing to me how learning a little bit about something that slots me farther away from society’s “normal” makes me feel confident about it and the more I realize that I’m not “abnormal” AT ALL.

- Engage in some diverse communities

Authortube is! so! white! Is there even an authortuber of colour who has over 10k subs? I did a little data study on this for myself over the summer and I believe (this is not fact because obviously I just have to judge on what the authortuber has said!) about the ~top 15 (give or take) channels are all white! And mostly white women. So I understand how uncomfortable it can feel to hop onto the internet as a smaller creator in a white dominated field. My recommendation here? Do NOT let that stop you. I know it can be uncomfortable, but the world needs diverse creators like you. This community needs diverse creators and this community needs to do BETTER to amplify our voices.

Because authortube is so white, I don’t often engage/watch vids in the community because it makes me a little uncomfortable and that is something I’d like to change by watching more diverse authortubers. Not going to lie! Sometimes this is hard because the community is so white dominated and even I need to do a better job at this. If anyone has any faves please put them in the replies!

I mostly watch YouTube outside of authortube. Some of my faves that I watch frequently (non exhaustive):

- abetweene

- Anncy Twinkle

- bestdressed

- Divas Can Cook

- emmymadeinjapan

- HeyParis

- Honeysuckle

- imuRgency

- Jackie Aina

- Karina Gomez

- LongHairPrettyNails

- Marion’s Kitchen (I am not lying any recipe I make from this woman is HEAVENLY just made soup from her yesterday)

- Vee Kativhu

I’ve been watching YouTube for about ten years now, and some of these names have been in my subs since then, so I think seeing diverse YouTubers doing their thing was really helpful in me feeling comfortable to also be on camera!

My last tip for you would be:

- Take the plunge

It will be uncomfortable the first few times you make a video for so many reasons, but once you get over that initial hump, it is so much better. It took me a few months to feel brave enough to make a face-to-face video and a lot of those videos never got uploaded--and that’s okay! It’s okay to feel insecure and lack confidence. I am not a very confident person so it amazes me that people think I am. I am actually super insecure about so many things! But don’t let those insecurities hold you back. What would you get from not doing something you really want to do just because you’re worried about others, including yourself, will think? You don’t get anything besides that awful feeling. What would you get from taking the plunge? Maybe some embarrassment, or some insecurity, but you’d also prove to yourself that you can do it--and that will trump all insecurity in time. If you’re uncomfortable with a new decision you made (of course outside of unhealthy reasons that would make you uncomfortable), you’re living life right. Be uncomfortable! It is okay! You will be okay!

If you do make a channel, please let me know and I’ll sub immediately! You are not alone in this journey, and if you need anyone to chat to, my DMs are always open. <3

[veganmamaroo]

Shortaki Week 2020: Day 5 - Pinky Swear

What happens when Gerald and Helga have to do their Uniquely You project together? Hint: it leads to good old-fashioned Shortaki goodness! It’s set right before the Season 2 episode “Best Friends.”

Also on FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13657713/1/Shortaki-Week-2020-Day-5-Pinky-Swear

Title: Pinky Swear

Word Count: 10k

This fic is set right before the Season 2 episode “Best Friends,” where Arnold does a Uniquely You presentation with Rhonda and Nadine, and also plays the middle man in helping the two friends reconcile.

 In the episode, there is a quick passing conversation between Arnold and Gerald that goes something like this:

 Gerald: Glad my presentation is over. Being “Uniquely You” with Helga? Man, that was humiliating!

 Arnold: Yeah, it was. I’m glad I got Rhonda and Nadine as partners. They always get along.

 This fic is about Gerald and Helga’s presentation. How does this glossed-over presentation fit into Day 5 topic of “Pinky Promise” in Shortaki Week 2020? Read on to find out!

  ________________________________________________________________

 The final bell rang, and it couldn’t come soon enough. It was Friday afternoon, and Helga had had quite enough of P.S. 118’s nonsense for the week. She couldn’t wait to get home, throw off her shoes, prep for the Wrestlemania episode airing that night, and pig out on pizza and pork rinds.

 “Hey Helga!” She heard a voice call out from behind her. Her signature stomp down the hall came to a stop, and she growled to herself in anger. She knew exactly who it was, and what that person wanted to discuss. She really didn’t want to talk about it now, but knowing how stubborn he was, he was going to get what he wanted. Fine. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

 She turned around with a threatening, “What?!” to see a reluctant, and seemingly exhausted, Gerald walking toward her. As he got closer to her, he rolled his eyes and said, “Come on, Helga. You know what we have to do. Let’s just get this over with.” His eyes were slightly pleading for her compliance.

 She outwardly scowled at him, but inwardly, she took a moment to observe the situation. He seemed just as miserable to be teamed up with her for this stupid Uniquely You project as she was with him. Okay, at least they had that in common. That, and they both had a deep place in their hearts for one utterly selfless, endearingly bold, loyally optimistic, compassionately warm football-headed love God. Not to mention their appreciation for sweet, rational, intelligent Phoebe.

 Sheesh, she had more in common with Tall Hair Boy than she thought.

 Maybe that’s why it was so hard to be around him.

 She rolled her eyes obnoxiously and sighed heavily, trying to display outright distaste of his presence. “FINE, Geraldo,” she sneered.

 Gerald looked like he was trying to keep his cool, but with Helga, civility was challenging. He crossed his arms defiantly and said, “So, do you want to meet at your house? Monday after school?”

 Helga suddenly felt her breath hitch and heard her heartbeat in her ears. Her thoughts went to the shrine of her beloved in her closet. She could picture it now: Gerald in her room, excusing himself to go to the bathroom, opening the closet door before she could stop him, his body becoming frozen in his shock, jaw to the floor, him starting to say, “What the...?”, the very fabric of her life quickly unraveling, the world exploding...

 Come on, Helga ol’ girl. Get it together. Come up with a quick excuse to avoid him coming over before he gets suspicious. “You can’t!” she said abruptly. Well, THAT was smooth.

 He didn’t seem to notice her panic. “And why not? You don’t have a little sister that derails everything.” He put his hands on his hips.

 “You can’t because... because... our bathroom is being renovated!” she blurted out, relieved that she was able to come up with something believable on the spot. Feeling more comfortable, she started settling into the lie. “There’s dust everywhere, noises going on until 8 in the evening, we’d have to share a bathroom with Big Bob... trust me. You don’t want to do it at my house.” She waited on bated breath, hoping he would buy it.

 Gerald sighed, his eyes weary. “Alright Pataki. Fine. My house it is. Monday after school. You can come around 6:00, after my family eats dinner.”

 Helga inwardly high-fived herself. Her secret of loving his best friend would live to see another day.

 Gerald continued, “But be warned. My sister is a pain. And my brother, well, he’s a pain, too. Hopefully they won’t distract us so we can get this all done in one evening.”

 Helga waved him off and said, “Yeah, yeah. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she began as she started walking away, turning around and walking backwards, “I have a date with Phoebe, Wrestlemania, and pepperoni pizza.” She turned back around and headed for the double doors that lead outside.

 Gerald’s demeanor lightened up immediately at the mention of Phoebe’s name. “Tell her I said hi!” he shouted after her.

 “Moron,” Helga uttered under her breath and she slammed her hands into the metal bar door handle, opening the door with a loud crash.

 Recalling the conversation, Gerald stood there, shaking his head with a small smile of disbelief. “Mmm mmm mmm! Doing a project with Helga Pataki. This is really going to suck,” he said to himself.

 ————

 Monday at 6:00pm, Helga was knocking at Gerald’s door. She felt a little flit of excitement in her stomach, knowing that she was about to be in a space that Arnold often occupied when they weren’t at school together. While in Gerald’s home, she planned on taking some mental notes of how Arnold spent his time there. She would relive those memories in her mind in front of the shrine later, she then decided.

 The door opened. Helga was expecting Gerald to open the door, so she was surprised that she had to look up higher to meet eyes with someone taller and older. Probably his older brother. “Yeah?” the teen answered.

 “Um, is Gerald home?”

 He grinned devilishly. “Yep. Hey, Gerald! Quit pooping and come to the door! Someone is here to see you!”

 Helga chuckled as Gerald appeared at the door in haste, trying to push his brother out of the way. “Jamie-O!” he said in a whiny voice that Helga had never heard from him before. “Seriously? I wasn’t pooping. I was helping Mom with the dishes.”

 “Sure, you were,” Jamie-O said as he grabbed Gerald, putting a wrestling move on him that left Gerald with a twisted arm, yelping in pain.

 Helga, thoroughly entertained by this exchange, couldn’t believe how great her short time at the Johansson house was playing out already. Here she was, seeing Gerald get knocked down a few pegs, without having to put forth any effort whatsoever. She liked his other brother already. With a laugh, she said, “Seriously, Gerald? You don’t know how to dodge an arm wrench to a vertical wrist lock? Man, what a wimp.”

 Jamie-O laughed at what Helga said, looking at her with an impressed expression. He let go of Gerald, with Gerald attempting to recover. Jamie-O said to her, “Hey, I like you! A friend that isn’t afraid to tell it like it is. Nice to meet you...” motioning toward her with an outstretched hand, asking for her name.

 She smiled proudly, accepted his outstretched hand with a firm handshake, and said, “Helga G. Pataki.”

 Gerald, still disgruntled and straightening out his shirt, butted in. “Ugh, of COURSE you two would get along.” Staring daggers at Jamie-O, he added, “And we’re NOT friends.” Not even looking at Helga or formally inviting her into the house, he turned around, started stomping up the stairs, and said, “Come on, Helga. Let’s start the stupid project.” Deciding not to push Gerald further, Jamie-O and Helga shared a humored wide-eyed grimace at each other before she entered the house and followed Gerald up the stairs in silence. While climbing the stairs, Gerald shouted over the banister, “Mom, I’m gonna be in my room with Helga doing our project!” Helga heard a faint, “Okay, sweetheart!” come from downstairs somewhere.

 As she ascended the staircase, she looked at the photos adorned on the adjacent wall. Photos of a happy family of five lined the wall, with a new photo to see every few steps. She would never admit it out loud, but she felt a pang of jealousy seeing Gerald in photos with his family. Despite Jamie-O being a jerk to Gerald, the home reeked of love and closeness, a stark and obvious difference from her own home.

 She followed him into his room. As she walked in, she felt like she knew this place. She realized it felt so familiar because it very much reflected the personality of its occupant: bold colors and posters of celebrities, athletes, and characters she overheard him yammering on about when she was eavesdropping on his and Arnold’s conversations were all over the walls.

 Gerald threw himself on his bed face-up, clearly needing a moment to compose himself. With a sigh, he covered his eyes with his elbow and said, “Be glad you don’t have an older sibling.”

 Helga gave a small, knowing laugh. Since Gerald was basically a dog with a tail between his legs at the moment, her guard was down. She didn’t feel the need to give a retort or maintain her reputation, for the moment, anyway. She leveled with him instead. “I actually do have an older sibling, and she’s the worst.”

 Keeping his elbow up, he suddenly lifted his head and peered at her with surprised eyes. “Really?” he asked. “Why did I think you were an only child?”

 Helga shrugged her shoulders and started slowly pacing room, eyes on the many items on the walls. “She’s ten years older than me. She doesn’t even live at home anymore, but it’s absolute torture when she visits.” She stopped her pacing and returned eye contact with him. “Does your brother wrestle you like that often?”

 Gerald sighed, threw his head back on the bed, and returned the elbow over his eyes. “All. The. Time. And I hate wrestling, so I don’t know how to fight it. Man, I can’t even walk down the hall without his stupid surprise attacks.”

 An idea began to brew in Helga’s head. “I could teach you a few defensive moves to get him off your back,” she said casually.

 Gerald, surprised and eager, propped himself up with his elbows. “Really? You would do that?”

 With an air of power, returning back to her slow pace around his room, she said over her shoulder, “For a price.”

 “Of COURSE,” he spat, sitting up, with his legs dangling over the side of the bed. “And here I was, foolishly thinking that you were actually being nice for once.”

 Retort engaged. She spun around, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Hey, I can be NICE.” Realizing the irony of her stance, she put down her finger and relaxed her shoulders. “I’ll teach you some moves, and in exchange, we do this project my way, on my terms,” she said, pointing her thumb to her chest. “I choose the topic and how the presentation is going to go.”

 Gerald squinted his eyes with suspicion. “And what exactly would that look like?”

 Helga tried her best to suppress her evil grin. “The topic is wrestling, with me demonstrating some wrestling moves on you. Me in the dominant position, of course.”

 Gerald groaned. “See, I knew you couldn’t be nice. You’re going to make me look like a fool.” He attempted to reason with her. “Is there anything else you’re interested in? Anything besides wrestling?”

 Helga pondered that for a moment. What interests of hers would she feel comfortable putting on display for all her classmates to see? Ballet? No. Poetry? No. Her obsessive infatuation with Arnold? HECK NO.

 She returned from her thoughts to respond to him in a mockingly lighthearted tone. “Nope. We’re doing wrestling. Do we have a deal?”

 Gerald mulled it over for a second. He sighed with his eyes closed, as if he was about to say something he might regret. He looked at her. “It’s a deal as long as we do moves that keep me on my two feet. Nothing on the floor, and nothing in the air.”

 Helga nodded. “Fair enough. Deal.” She extended her hand to make it official, and Gerald met her hand. It was a solid, one-shake handshake. In a serious tone with a touch of smugness, she said, “Okay, let’s start with how pathetic it was that your brother got you in a wrist lock without even trying.”

 For the next 30 minutes, Helga showed Gerald some defensive moves. She asked Gerald which moves Jamie-O frequently put on him, and provided some ideas of how to break free from those holds. She even let Gerald practice the defensive moves on her, slowing down the pace step-by-step, allowing Gerald to get his feet wet with it. She took the lesson seriously, and felt that familiar passion she felt for her hobbies shine through. In fact, she realized that this was the first time she had ever practiced these moves on another human being, as no one in her social circle was into wrestling like she was. She was enjoying herself, with Gerald Johansson, of all people. He was listening fully and absorbing her lesson well.

 When he managed to escape Helga’s attempt to get him in a wrist lock, she looked at him with an impressed expression and said, “I think my work here is done.”

 Gerald smiled, obviously proud of himself. “Wow. That wasn’t so hard!” He stopped, realizing the shift between them. “Uh, thanks, Helga. That was... really cool of you to show me that.” He smiled to himself and said, “Now THERE’S something I never thought I’d say.”

 Helga confidently put her hands on her hips. “Like I said, I can be nice. For the right price.”

 “For the right price,” he echoed with a smirk. He went over to his mirror, checking his high-top fade, making sure his hair still looked fly after practicing wrestling moves for a half hour. Still looking at himself, he said, “I wish you could be that nice to Arnold.”

 Helga’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Arnold’s name. Recovering, she laughed and crossed her arms. “HA! Please. The ol’ Football Head deserves it.”

 “What?” Gerald spun around, shocked that she was using those words to describe his true-blue best friend. “Arnold is the nicest person there is. What does he do to deserve anything but kindness?”

 Helga froze. Her body felt the familiar sensations that always came with anyone going anywhere near her secret love for Arnold: tight throat, rapid heartbeat, stuttering, babbling, and shifty eyes. She tried to play it cool. “W-Well, y-you know, he’s... always butting into people’s business!” was the best thing she could come up with.

 He gave her a deadpanned expression. “To help them.”

 “Well, it’s annoying!”

 Gerald shook his head at her childish response. But suddenly, his face lit up, as if a lightbulb went off in his head. “For the right price... you’ll be nice...” he said quietly, half to himself, half to her.

 Relieved that Gerald distracted himself from prodding Helga’s intentions any further, she raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. What about it?”

 Gerald gave her an intense stare. “What if I asked you to be nice to Arnold for a week? What would I have to pay to make that happen?”

 Helga scoffed. “Why do you want me to be nice to a dopey little football head?”

 Gerald broke eye contact and starting pacing back and forth. “His birthday is next Monday. I’m strapped for cash, and I’ve been going crazy trying to think of what I could do for him. But this,” he said, as he slapped the back of his hand into his other palm, “THIS could really make his week.” He stopped pacing and looked at her. “So, name your price.”

 Helga tapped her chin in thought. She had a reputation to protect, and being nice to Arnold for a whole week could compromise that. Jeopardizing her reputation carried a hefty price tag.

 On the other hand, lending Arnold a kind hand for a week could benefit her, too. It could show Arnold that she’s more than a tormentor. She’s passionate, funny, witty, and intelligent. Who wouldn’t want a girl like that? This could be push she needed to make Arnold finally see that Helga G. Pataki was the perfect girl for him.

 She wouldn’t show her cards, though. She decided to play hard to get. “I’ll be nice to Arnold if you do my homework next week. That includes projects due next week, too.” She crossed her arms triumphantly, smirked, and did a quick eyebrow raise, as if to say “take that.”

 Gerald deflated. “You mean, I’d have to do your History of Hillwood essay due next Friday, too?” It was a demanding project. It required you to find someone who has lived in Hillwood over 30 years, interview them, and write a 3-page paper about how much things have changed over the years.

 “Yep,” she said, emphasizing the p sound at the end of the word. There’s no way he’ll take the bait, she thought.

 After a few moments, he relented. “You drive a hard bargain, Pataki, but I’ll take it.”

 She uncrossed her arms and her jaw hung open, surprised that he didn’t even try to negotiate terms with her. Wow, he must be desperate, she thought. What a sap!

 “Wow, really?” She said immediately out of shock. “I mean, alright, Geraldo. But we gotta set some boundaries here. I don’t want to be TOO nice. Can’t have Hair Boy falling in love with me or anything.” Reverse psychology. Can’t have him suspect anything.

 “Fat chance,” he said with a laugh.

 His response hurt, but there was no way in heck she’d ever let him see that. “For starters, I’m not going to go out of my way to be nice to him. If the opportunity presents itself, fine.”

 Gerald nodded. “Fine.”

 “And,” Helga continued, “he CANNOT know that we have this agreement.”

 “Wait, what?” Gerald said loudly. “But how else will he know what I’m getting him for his birthday?”

 “Ugh, do you need a pat on the back for your good deeds?” she asked in annoyance. She was no stranger to being charitable in the shadows, and it irked her that other people needed validation for their acts of kindness. “And do you know how mortifying it would be for the class to know that I was being nice to Arnold because you asked me to? NOBODY is going to know about this except you and me.” She pointed to him and then thumbed her chest.

 Gerald groaned. “Alright, alright.”

 Helga was insistent. “Promise me. No. PINKY SWEAR that this will never get out. If it does, Old Betsy will be paying you a visit, along with a surprise wrestling move that I KNOW you can’t defend yourself against.” She held out her pinky finger toward him.

 Gerald shot her an irritated expression at her verbal jab before extending his pinky finger, locking with hers for a beat. “Fine, I pinky swear.”

 Helga did a single nod and said, “Okay. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to be nice to Arnold. My last day will be next Monday, his birthday. That’s when you’ll begin doing my homework.”

 Gerald nodded in confirmation. “Right.”

 Helga was on her way out the door when she turned around and said, “Oh, and I’ll come up with the whole Uniquely You project. All you have to do is show up and be my warm body while I put you in a headlock in front of the whole class.” She smirked, gave a two-finger salute, and walked out of his room.

 Gerald sat with a deadpanned expression. “Mmm mmm mmm! How does Phoebe put UP with that chick?”

 ———

Tuesday

Tuesday morning arrived, and Helga decided to leave early and walk to school instead of taking the bus. She was feeling a little nervous and was trying to walk it off. She didn’t want to blow this. Being nice to Arnold was out of character for her, so she was going to have to spend the remainder of the week on her toes. Besides, Arnold usually took the bus to school, to she figured she could avoid him if she walked. In fact, that was basically her plan for the week: try to avoid Arnold as much as –

 “Oof!”

 “Ow!”

 She collided with something, or someone. That’s what you get for stressing so much and not paying attention. Get it together, Helga! Sheesh! She found herself on the ground, feeling discomfort in her chin and chest, where the brunt of the collision occurred. She shook her head, came to, and found her bearings.

 And there he was.

 On the ground, right in front of her.

 Those beautiful green eyes, brighter than normal in the light of the sun, staring wide-eyed at her, giving her his undivided attention. His unruly, yet incredibly sexy, blonde hair, a little more disheveled than usual after their collision. His shocked, yet concerned expression, which sent a shiver across her chest and down her arms like a small shock of electricity. Oh, my love. I have knocked you out of your reverie, distracted by whatever images conjured up that adorable little football head of yours, thoughts lucky enough to hold your attention to take you away from the present world around you. What I would give to be even a minuscule musing in your daydreams. Ooh.

 Her eyes panned slightly behind him to reveal Gerald, who had to have been walking alongside Arnold. Gerald stared at her with anticipation, not knowing what to expect come out of her mouth with their recent deal.

 She was on display. Okay. You got this, Helga ol’ girl. Just... be nice.

 Arnold spoke first, starting to stand up and dust himself off. “Helga, are you okay? I’m so sorry.” He extended his hand kindly, attempting to help her up.

 Normally, she’d scoff, ridicule his tendency to daydream, ignore his extended hand, and throw an insult his way before stomping off.

 Instead, she found her hand taking his. His hand was soft, and it even felt kind. She inwardly swooned as he quickly pulled her up. Her eyes flitted at Gerald for a beat before responding with, “That’s okay, Arnold. I’m sorry, too. I guess we were both a little distracted, huh?”

 His hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess so.” His face suddenly showed realization, confusion. “Wait... what did you just call me?”

 Ha. He realized instantly that I didn’t call him a football-headed klutz for once. “Um, Arnold? That’s your name, isn’t it?”

 Out of Arnold’s field of vision, Gerald smiled smugly behind him and nodded his head at Helga in approval. He was loving this. She made every effort not to roll her eyes at him, let alone sock him in the face.

 Arnold just stared at her with wide eyes for a second. She honestly didn’t know how he was going to react to this change. Was he going to be in shock? Was he going to shrug his shoulders and move on? He surprised her by teasing her in a friendly manner. “Uh, yeah.” He chuckled to himself for a second. “I was starting to think you had forgotten it,” he said with a smirk, his eyes meeting hers.

 She rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, yeah. I know your name.” As she started to walk backwards toward their P.S. 118, she said lightheartedly, “Keep your head out of the clouds, would ya? You’re gonna poke an eye out.” Before turning around, she shot a quick eyebrow flash and smirk at Gerald as if to say, “Ha! Told you I could do it,” turned around, and let the two of them watch her walk away. She played it cool, but her heart was pounding.

 Behind her, she faintly heard Arnold say to Gerald, “What was that?” She heard Gerald respond with, “I don’t know, man.” She smiled to herself and inwardly giggled, picking up her pace to create some distance between them, exhilarated by the exchange she just had. She did it. She was nice to Arnold, and the world didn’t blow up.

 Don’t get ahead of yourself, bucko, a voice inside her head said. Being nice to him with no one else around but that doofy Tall Hair Boy, who is in on the secret, easy. Doing that in front of your dimwitted classmates? Might be a little harder to navigate.

 She decided to ignore her inner voice and revel in her elation, for once.

  ———

What do you even do with yourself if you’re not launching spit balls at the love of your life in class?

 She had to cut that ritual out of her life this week, as she knew that he hated her spitballs of fury/passion. She realized that, without busying her hands with tearing and rolling tiny bits of papers into spit balls, she felt awkward. As she listened to Granola Boy drone on and on about cruciferous vegetables, she tried drumming her fingers, twiddling her thumbs, and even braiding her hair. It all felt off.

 “Are you okay, Helga?” a meek whisper next to her said. It was Phoebe. Sheesh, was it that obvious?

 “Yeah, I, uh, am feeling a little jittery this morning, that’s all.”

 “Okay, Helga.” She went back to listening to Mr. Simmons’ lesson intently. Phoebe wasn’t the type to chat in the middle of a school lesson. She’d probably pry a little more during lunch. She imagined Phoebe trying to lead Helga in some hippie-dippy breathing exercise to calm her nerves. She smiled to herself. Her and Phoebe were like night and day sometimes.

 She found that the rapture she felt that morning from her exchange with Arnold was fading fast. Without her throwing spitballs at him, he didn’t have a reason to turn around and look at her. And he didn’t.

 She was eager for lunch to start so she could get her mind off Arnold and those gorgeous tufts of blonde, spitball-free hair of his.

 ———

The lunch bell rang. Arnold was having a good day. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but for whatever reason, he felt really focused. He listened to Mr. Simmons’ entire lesson on cruciferous vegetables with unanticipated enthusiasm. He had to admit that it made him want to reach for some broccoli at lunch time today.

 Out of unconscious habit, he tipped his head downward and started shaking his thick hair with his hands. When he looked down at the floor, it dawned on him that something was amiss. The floor beneath him was clean. Wait... where are the spitballs? he finally realized. He sat up and looked around his seat, wondering if it was in a different area. Nope. The floor all around him was free of spitballs. He ran his fingers through his hair one more time.

 “Did you drop something?” Gerald asked, bringing Arnold out of his thoughts.

 Arnold looked up. Behind Gerald, Arnold’s eyes fell on Helga, who was on her way out of the classroom. He hoped that she would make eye contact with him, which could give him some sort of clue as to why she didn’t pelt him with spitballs today. However, she didn’t even look at him. She left the room. Arnold sat there, bewildered.

 Remembering that Gerald asked him something, he responded, “No, I guess not,” distantly. He got up out of his desk, and the two headed for lunch.

 ——-

 Helga grabbed her tray and started dragging it across the lunch line table. She was in a deep debate with Phoebe, who was standing in front of her, about why it would be much better to be 50 feet tall than 50 millimeters tall when the tapioca pudding caught her eye. It was the last one. As she went to reach for it, she bumped hands with the person behind her who was also reaching for it.

 “Oh, sorry, Helga. You’re in front of me. You take it.” It was Arnold. Her heart began to beat faster upon hearing his sweet, tender voice say her name. Man, why does he DO this to me?

 Her thoughts went back to the last time this happened. She had ended up purposely spilling the pudding all over his shirt. She and all her classmates laughed at him while he frowned and headed to the bathroom to clean up.

 She winced at the memory. That was a crummy thing to do to her beloved Football Head.

 Here was a chance at redemption.

 She took the tapioca pudding in her hands and, faking him out, placed it on his plate for him. “Nah, that’s okay. It’s yours,” she said.

 He looked up at her. “Really? Are you sure?”

 Such a naive little twerp, she thought affectionately. Never change, my love.

 “Yeah, I’m sure,” she said. “I ate way too many pork rinds this weekend, anyway. Still trying to balance myself out. Maybe I should listen to Simmons and get myself some watered-down cauliflower.” You sure are chatty when you’re being nice, her inner voice noticed, leaving Helga to feel sheepish.

 Arnold laughed, making her heart flutter and her inward embarrassment dissipate. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He paused for a beat. “Thanks, Helga. That was nice of you.”

 “Don’t mention it,” she said, as she paid for her food and quickly left before the awkward silence settled in.

 Phoebe was waiting for her, tray in her hands. As they walked to find a seat, she said, “That was nice of you to give Arnold the tapioca pudding.”

 “I SAID not to mention it, Pheebs,” Helga shot back.

 “Unmentioning!” Phoebe sang, without skipping a beat, as they sat down.

 Helga reflected on her second encounter with Arnold that day. He thanked her. And he laughed at something she said. This was the best day she’s had in a long time.

  ——

 The rest of the day went without a hitch. She found a new way to channel her energy away from making spitballs in class: doodling little football heads in her notebook. It was a lateral move, but hey, at least it didn’t infuriate poor Arnold and stayed within the guidelines of the deal with Gerald.

 As originally planned, she tried to avoid Arnold as much as possible in an attempt to avoid tarnishing her reputation or making a fool out of herself. She didn’t have contact with him for the rest of the day.

 After the final bell rang, she was walking down the steps of school on her way to the bus when she heard a, “Hey, Helga! Wait up!” She turned around and saw Gerald in the near distance, approaching her. She did a quick scope of the landscape to see if the coast was clear of Arnold before saying, “What do you want?”

 Gerald seemed to be in the lookout, too. “I’m gonna make this quick. I told Arnold I needed to talk with you about the project. He’ll be walking outside any minute.”  Helga impatiently crossed her arms as Gerald did a quick look behind him before lowering his voice in an enthusiastic whisper, “You were great today! Seriously! It was totally believable. And get this: he definitely had a good day. My plan is working! Just keep doing what you’re doing and your homework is good as done for next week.”

 Helga would never admit this out loud to Geraldo, but she appreciated the confirmation that his best friend had a great day. Instead, she said with a wave of her hand, “Well, doi. Of course I was great.”

 “At least you’re modest about it,” Gerald said sarcastically as Helga looked behind him to see Arnold and Sid leaving the building together in the distance. Helga did a nod in Arnold’s direction to show Gerald that his friend was coming. “See you tomorrow, Tall Hair Boy.”

 “Bye, Helga.”

 Helga didn’t stick around long enough for Arnold to approach. She turned around and started walking home. He had a good day! Because of ME!, she swooned. She engulfed herself in loving thoughts of him as she walked home.

 ——

 Wednesday

 It was halfway through the morning. Helga had her head resting on her hand lazily as she doodled. Helga’s distraction doodles evolved from scattered Football Heads to now a full picture of a scene with hidden Football Heads sprinkled throughout. 

 She casually looked up and caught Arnold staring at her.

 She shut her notebook immediately, out of fear that he had seen what she had been drawing. It was a silly knee-jerk reaction; he was too far away to see her notebook. Her heart began beating harder, and her eyes had to readjust to the rush of adrenaline she felt from his sudden attention.

 This was no accident. He was turned around in his seat, staring at her with a confused expression. His hand resting on the back of his chair flipped upward, as if to say, “What gives?”

 He wants to know why his head isn’t the target of my hostility anymore, she thought with an inward giggle. She played dumb... well, sort of. She responded with an exaggerated, yet sarcastic expression that said, “What ever do you mean, Arnold?” 

 “Arnold, whatever conversation you’re having can wait until the bell rings,” Mr. Simmons kindly informed Arnold, making him spin around and face forward once again.

 “Sorry, Mr. Simmons.”

 Helga smiled, still flying high off of his acknowledgement. 

 ———

 At recess, Helga sat with Phoebe at the picnic table in the sun. It was beautiful out, seasonably warm for October. Helga was leaning against the table, face toward the sun with her eyes closed, as if she were sunbathing. Phoebe was reading a novel she couldn’t put down.

 “Hey, uh, Helga?” 

 Helga cooly blinked one eye open. It was Arnold, sweetly standing there like the perfect specimen he was. After he had initiated a silent conversation in class, she had expected him to come talk to her face-to-face today. She was prepared with an excuse and everything.

 “Yeah?”

 Phoebe, engrossed in her book, scooted down the bench and turned her back to the conversation without even looking up. She didn’t want to be disturbed during the climax of the story.

 Arnold sat down next to Helga. “You haven’t launched any spitballs at my head this week.”

 “It was that obvious, huh?”

 “It’s kind of hard not to notice,” he said with a smile. “It’s been... nice.”

 “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it, bucko,” she said, lightly elbowing his arm. “The custodian must have found my straw and thrown it away. One of these days, I’ll remember to bring one back to class,” she lied.

 She felt the urge to continue talking. She didn’t know why, but acting nice opened the verbal floodgates. “To be honest, it’s been hard for me to focus in class without it,” she said with a chuckle. “As it turns out, ripping up tiny bits of paper occupies my twitchy fingers while Simmons drones on and on.”

 “That’s why I sit up in front. It forces you to listen. You know how I am. Always daydreaming.”

 “Yeah, I know. We all know. It’s entertaining for all of us when you get caught,” Helga laughed.

 “Hey!” he said with a smile, pretending to act offended.

 “Well, it’s true! It’s kind of your thing.”

 “My thing?” 

 “Yes, your thing. One of your things, anyway.” Her open hand gestured toward the playground. “Every single one of us on this playground has snapped you out of a daydream at least once.”

 Arnold looked around at the playground. “Wow, you’re right. I’ve never thought of it that way before.” He paused, and with a sideways glance, he asked, “What’s another “thing” of mine?”

 “Being blindly optimistic,” she answered casually, without missing a beat.

 Arnold rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Wow. You’ve got me pegged. I guess that’s also my thing.”

 “They’re good things to be, you know.”

 Arnold looked at her. “You think so?”

 “Don’t get me wrong. They’re annoying qualities. But good ones,” she offered. They allowed her backhanded compliment to hang in the air for a moment. “Just be thankful your thing isn’t being fat, dumb, and pink, like Harold.”

 “Helga...”

 “I’m just saying!”

 There was a brief moment of silence before Arnold spoke. “You know, you have some good “things,” too.”

 “I-I do?” asked Helga, eyes wide, her walls being torn down. She was genuinely taken by surprise. He offered up that statement unprovoked.

 “Well, sure. You’re smart. You’re funny. And deep down, I think you’re nice. I think you just choose not to show it.”

 Helga sat in silence, staring into her hands. The silence was extremely uncomfortable for her. She felt exposed. She hated feeling exposed. On any other day, she would’ve snapped at him or called him a name to move on from the awkwardness. However, her competitiveness wasn’t going to let Gerald win this, so she was going to have to handle this without her tough exterior.

 She didn’t know what to say. Unable to tear her mind from the discomfort, she finally responded. “Well, maybe you’ve got me pegged, too.”

 Their eyes met. Helga’s eyes approached his with her vulnerability. Arnold’s eyes approached hers with kindness and reassurance.

 The bell rang, breaking their gaze.

 The two were then distracted by their previously silent bench mate. Phoebe shut her book in triumph with finality, tilting her head back, and breathed out a relieved and elated sigh. “Done,” she said out loud. She realized she was being watched. Snapping out of her trance, she peered over to see Arnold and Helga both staring at her, confused.

 She shrugged awkwardly. “What? It was a good one.”

 Arnold’s eyes met Helga’s one more time for a brief moment before Helga said, “Come on, Pheebs. Let’s go. You can give me a one-minute summary of the book on our way back to class.”

 “Coming!” Phoebe answered. Excited to share her story, she started sharing highlights of the book.

 While Phoebe chattered away, Helga was completely tuning her out with thoughts of her beloved. He gets me, she reflected. And he had nice things to say about me, even after all of the misery I’ve put him through. Oh, I adore you, my blindly optimistic, daydreaming football-headed Love God.

 “Uh, Helga?”

 “Yeah, Pheebs?”

 “… correct me if I’m wrong, but you and Arnold… back there… were you talking?”

 ________

  When school ended, Arnold and Gerald left the building of P.S.118. Arnold breathed in a lung full of fresh, outdoor air… well, as fresh as Hillwood air could get, anyway. It was beautiful out. It was always nice outside around his birthday.

 “Hey Gerald, do you want to walk home today? It’s really nice out.”

 Gerald shook his head regrettably. “I know, man, it is. But I’ve gotta get started on that History of Hillwood project. I’m interviewing Mrs. Vitello in about 30 minutes. I’m gonna take the bus. You comin’?”

 With a tinge of disappointment, Arnold obliged. “Yeah, I’ll ride with you.”

 “Man, you are so lucky that you live with someone who has lived in Hillwood for 80 years! This project is in the bag for you.”

 Arnold laughed. “Yeah, it was really easy. I finished my project weeks ago. Every day is History of Hillwood at the boarding house.”

 Arnold looked off at the path he would have taken had he decided to walk. His eyes fell on Helga, who was walking alone. It looks like Helga thought it was nice out, too, he thought.

 While still looking at Helga, Arnold asked, “Have you noticed that Helga has been acting different this week?”

 “Different how?”

 “She’s been… well, nice.”

 Gerald looked at him incredulously. “Helga G. Pataki?” he asked. Emphasizing each word of her name. “Nice? You should see what she has planned for our Uniquely You presentation. You won’t think she’s so nice then.”

 “I’m serious, Gerald! She hasn’t even called me Football Head this week!”

 “Whatever you say, Arnold. Whatever you say,” Gerald said dismissively. Arnold didn’t push the conversation further. He knew his best friend, and that was one of Gerald’s ways of ending a conversation with him politely. He didn’t expect Gerald to understand, anyway. He had zero interest in getting to know Helga on a deeper level. Those two were like oil and water.

 Unlike Gerald, Arnold found her fascinating. Her bullying was maddening sometimes, but there were moments, very brief moments, when she would peel back a layer and reveal a tender, caring side of her. He wished he could learn more, but Helga didn’t work that way. It helped to catch her on good days.

 As Arnold climbed onto the bus behind his friend, he hoped that Helga’s life was going well enough to bring out this more considerate side to her.

 _______

 Thursday

 Arnold sat at the lunch table with Gerald, Sid, Stinky, and Harold that day. Sitting with those three was always… entertaining, could be a kind word to describe it. Sid and Stinky had bet Harold that they could make him laugh while he chugged his whole carton of milk. Harold, unable to back down from a food-related challenge, confidently accepted. Mid-chug, Sid and Stinky started making fart noises with their armpits, leading Harold to spray milk everywhere. Harold tried to balance his laughter and the milk streaming out of his nose. With deadpan expressions, Arnold and Gerald wiped sprayed milk off of their faces while Sid and Stinky high-fived each other in celebration.

 After the moment died down, Sid asked the group, “Oh hey, do you guys think we can delay our baseball game today after school? I need to pick up something from the store from my mom, and the store closes at 4:00. I was thinking we could meet at 4 today instead of 3.”

 All the boys nodded their heads. Gerald added, “We’re all okay with it. It’s Helga you need to convince.”

 “Oh, right. I forgot.” Sid’s posture started to wilt. “Boy howdy, I really don’t want to ask her. She’s going to freak.”

 “I don’t know, Sid,” Arnold said, unconvinced. “Helga’s been a lot nicer this week. She might handle it well today.”

 Sid, Stinky, and Harold stopped and looked at Arnold with stunned expressions. Gerald froze, eyes shifting back and forth between the boys and Arnold.

 “Are you kidding?” Sid asked rhetorically.

 “What are you talking about, Arnold?” Stinky added. “She’s been a regular armchair critic this week. Come to think of it, that’s how she is every week.”

 “Remember when called me fat in front of the whole class when Simmons caught me eating that Mr. Fudgy bar during math earlier?” Harold cried. He crossed his arms, and under his breath, grumbled, “Madame Fortress Mommy…”

 “Wait…” Arnold said, holding his hand up, trying to process. “Helga has been… normal to all of you all week?”

 The boys gave each other puzzled looks. “Arnold, are you okay?” Sid asked.

 Interrupting the interrogation, Gerald quickly got up from his chair, stood behind Arnold, and put his hands on Arnold’s shoulders. “Arnold, I think you need to be the one to ask Helga to postpone the game today. Clearly, you’ve got the magic touch this week, my man.”

 “Me?” Arnold asked. He looked at his friends. They all were nodding their heads rapidly, all seemingly trying to avoid Helga Pataki’s wrath.

 Arnold got up and the crumbs off his shirt. “Alright, I guess so. Here goes,” he said, scanning the cafeteria.

 He spotted her getting up out of her chair to throw her food away. He began to follow her. She didn’t seem to notice him at first. Not wanting to startle her, he waited for her to throw her food away before getting her attention.

 “Hey, Helga.”

 She yelped and did a startled jump. Oops, so much for not startling her. Once she realized it was him, she yelled. “Criminy, Football Head! Why do you have to sneak up on me all the time? Sheesh!”

 Arnold looked back to his friends at the lunch table. They were watching him with grimaces on their faces.

 “I mean,” Helga said, in a much calmer voice this time, causing Arnold to turn back to her, “you, uh, scared me, A-Arnold. What do you want?”

 Arnold rubbed the back of his neck with his hands and down at the floor for a moment. “Sorry, Helga. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked back up at her. “I just wanted to see if you were still playing baseball this afternoon.”

 Helga squinted her eyes in confusion. “Yeah. Every Thursday at 3 at Gerald Field.”

 “Right,” Arnold confirmed. “It’s just that, well, Sid is busy doing something at that time, and he wants to know if you –”

 “Arnold?” she interrupted.

 “Yeah?” he asked, half expecting her to confirm his friends’ concerns and start flipping out on him.

 “Can we move away from this trash can?” she started to wave her hand in front of her face. “It smells like something died in there. Literally.”

 Relieved, Arnold responded. “Oh, right. Sorry. I guess the trash can isn’t the best place to start a conversation, huh?” He took a few steps to the left.

 Helga followed him, plugging her nose. “Seriously, what IS that smell?”

 They heard Curly’s maniacal laughter coming from the nearby air vent.

 “Twisted little freak…” Helga mumbled as she caught up with Arnold.

 “Anyway,” Arnold continued, “Can we postpone the game until 4:00?”

 Helga put her hand on her chin in thought. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders and said simply, “Okay.”

 “Really?” Arnold asked in surprise. “Thanks, Helga! Sid will be so relieved.”

 Helga squinted her eyes in suspicion. “Did that little twerp send you over here?”

 Arnold’s eyes shifted to the left, “Uh…”

 “Don’t bother lying, Football Head. You’re a terrible liar.” Arnold looked at her with rigid eyes. “Well, it’s true! Another of your “things”,” she added with a smirk, in an attempt to lighten the conversation a little bit. It worked. Arnold looked down and smiled to himself.

 “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to him… now. I’ll just torture the ever-living daylights out of him on the baseball field later.”

 “Helga…”

 “Oh, alright, I won’t torture the poor sap,” she conceded. “You’re no fun.”

 “I’m no fun because I don’t take pleasure in other people’s torture?” Arnold asked.

 “Aw, come on,” Helga pressed. “You know it’s kinda funny when Sid gets all twitchy and nervous.”

 Arnold stopped for a second. He wanted to stick up for his friend, but she did have a point.

 “Aha!” she said with a smile, pointing to Arnold’s face, as if his expression gave his thoughts away. “See? You know it’s true.” She crossed her arms in triumph. “Again. Terrible liar.”

 Arnold looked at Helga with serious eyes and a small smile. “Since when did you get so good at reading me?” Woah. That came out a little more… personal than he wanted it to.

 Helga didn’t seem to notice. “We’ve only known each other for the past 6 years. Doi.”

 Arnold nodded, taking that in. “That’s a long time to know someone, huh?”

 Helga crossed her arms, stood beside him, and lightly elbowed him as she said, “Six years too long, if you ask me.” Her eyes met his, her blue eyes laced with humor. She’s joking with me, he thought with a smile. It struck him that, in that moment, he had never noticed that she had blue eyes before. They were… pretty. How has he never noticed this in all the years he’s known her?

 The bell rang.

 “Oh, criminy,” Helga cursed. “I still need to take a leak before class. If I’m not back in time, cover me, would ya?”

 Arnold chuckled lightly at her candor. “Sure, Helga.”

 He smiled as he watched her run off. He quickly went back to the lunch table to throw away his food. His tablemates had already moved on and were probably back in class by now. How long had I been talking to her? he thought as he quickly made his way back to class.

 When he made it back to Mr. Simmons’ class, everyone, including Mr. Simmons, was still situating themselves. He went to Mr. Simmons and informed him that Helga was using the restroom and would be back in a minute or two. Mr. Simmons nodded and thanked him for letting him know.

 It was a minute after the second bell that Helga came back in the classroom. Mr. Simmons was writing something on the board and didn’t even look her way, let alone say anything to her. Helga glanced at Arnold, and Arnold reassured her with a wink. She gave him a small smile and retreated to the desk in the back of the room.

  _____

 Friday

 Arnold and Gerald were on the playground, sitting on the swings, but not really swinging on them. Gerald was quiet. Arnold found himself looking across the playground to the jungle gym, where he saw several classmates talking to Helga. She was animated in her conversation, and laughing. He couldn’t tell what she was talking about, but whatever it was, she was in her element.

 “Have you ever noticed before that Helga has blue eyes?” Arnold blurted out.

 Gerald shot him a death stare, mixed with confusion. “What?” he asked in irritated disbelief.

 Arnold realized the mistake he just made. “Oops,” he said sheepishly. “Sorry, Gerald.”

 “Let me be VERY clear. I do not want to talk about Helga Pataki right now. Seriously, ANYTHING but her,” Gerald said assertively, with a tinge of desperation in his voice.

 “Right,” Arnold said. He decided to shift the conversation to his birthday weekend.

  _______

 It had been a good day for Helga.

 She still couldn’t believe Gerald let her put him in a chin lock, as well as several other compromising positions, in front of the whole class... consensually. It was executed perfectly. As Helga broke down the moves step-by-step, the class seemed to be interested. When she put Gerald in embarrassing positions, it emitted giggles from their classmates, which was what she wanted. She couldn’t stand the guy, but she didn’t want the class to laugh him out of the place. She just wanted to deflate his giant ego a tad. She had a heart, you know.

 Later, on the playground, a few of her classmates even approached her, revealing that they, too, watched wrestling. Maybe there was something to this Uniquely You presentation. Simmons was still a granola boy, but hey, this project singlehandedly improved her week: she discovered some mutual interests with several of her classmates, she got to mortify one Gerald Johansson (with his consent... she couldn’t stress that enough), and she had several pleasant heart-pounding encounters with her beloved. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

 And it was only going to get better: next week, no homework.

 It was early evening. Bob was in the mood for Chinese take-out, so for once, he actually managed to order it and make it happen. Helga’s belly was full and she felt satisfied. In fact, she felt like taking a walk to walk off her dinner and enjoy the beautiful October weather.

 She found herself at Tina Park. She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets, feeling the evening air get chillier. Up ahead, she saw what she thought to be her beloved Football Head sitting on a bench. She had to do a double take, as she often gets distracted by football-shaped objects around her: clouds, flower arrangements, shadows, plants... you name it. She had to get a closer look. As she got closer, she confirmed that it was, in fact, him.

 This is surprising, Helga thought. He normally hangs out with Tall Hair Boy on Friday nights.

 In a good mood and feeling a bit feisty, she approached the bench. “Hey, Arnoldo. What’s shakin’?”

 Arnold looked up at her, surprised. “Oh, hi, Helga.” He gave a small smile that faded immediately. He resumed looking back down, fiddling his fingers together.

 Something’s bothering him. “Mind if I sit with you?” she asked. Arnold shook his head, and she sat down next to him.

 They sat in silence for a second. Normally, Helga would’ve felt intense awkwardness in a situation like this. However, she felt uncharacteristically calm. Wow... I need to strangle my frenemy in front of my classmates more often.

 Before she could say anything, he spoke up. “Can I ask you something?” he asked.

 My beloved, my muse, my sun and stars, wants MY advice? Oh, my kind-hearted football-headed darling, how I wish to relinquish your anguish with my words and lift you back up to your noble fortitude. “Yeah, sure.”

 “Let’s imagine it was Phoebe’s birthday weekend. What would you be doing?”

 She felt kicked in the stomach. She could see where this was headed, and she didn’t like it. She took an unobserved deep breath in before responded. “Well,” she said through the exhale, playing it cool, “I’d probably be spending it with her doing something she wanted to do.”

 “Exactly!” Arnold exclaimed with his arms outward for emphasis.

 “Why?” she urged. She knew the answer, but she wasn’t about to show her hand.

 Arnold sighed. He leaned forward, placing his elbows in his knees, his hands touching each other. “It’s my birthday on Monday, and I wanted to spend the weekend doing fun stuff with my best friend,” he said, with his anger picking up. He sat up. “But he’s busy. Can you believe that?”

 “D-doing what?” Helga asked. She felt the nervousness in her voice. She really hoped he wasn’t going to say what she thought he was going to say.

 “Homework,” he said incredulously. “You think he would’ve planned his time better to be able to hang out with me on my birthday weekend, right?”

 Helga felt like she got sucker-punched in the stomach. Arnold confirmed what she had feared: Gerald was busy doing her essay. She just knew it. By holding up his end of the deal, Gerald had to sacrifice his time with his best friend on his birthday weekend. She felt terrible.

 Arnold got quiet. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him much this weekend.”

 Helga couldn’t take it anymore. She had to take care of this and make this right. She sprung up. “That sucks, Arnold,” she started, “but I just remembered that I have to... feed my cat.” She inwardly winced at the terrible excuse she just made. She started to walk away quickly before turning around and saying, “I hope your weekend gets better,” before running off.

 Arnold scratched his head. “Helga has a cat?”

 ——-

 Helga knocked on the green door. It was getting dark now, and she was officially shivering. When she put on her light jacket when she left the house, she didn’t realize she’d take a one hour detour.

 A man with a serious face answered the door. “May I help you?” he asked. His tone was firm, yet he was poised. With a blowhard for a dad, she definitely didn’t know what having a dad like this was like.

 “Hi, Mr. Johansson,” she said. He seemed like the type of guy who liked formalities like that. She had something to take care of, and she just wanted to appease him and get him the heck out of her way. “I need to talk to Gerald. It’ll only take a minute.”

 He scrunched his eyebrows downward. Maybe I was too direct, she thought. “Okay,” he answered, “but only for a minute. It’s getting late, you know.”

 She nodded her head in understanding. He called for his son, in a stern, yet still-asking kind of way. The whole thing felt foreign to her.

 Gerald appeared at the door. When he saw her, his face became hard. “What do you want?” he asked in disgust.

 “The deal is off,” she said firmly.

 Gerald’s face softened. “What?” he asked, as if he didn’t quite understand.

 “You heard me. The deal is off. You don’t have to do my homework anymore, and I don’t need to be nice to Hair Boy anymore. It’s done. Finished. Kaput. Capiche?”

 Gerald looked like he couldn’t believe his luck. However, he was still confused. “But why? You’ve basically held your end of the deal. Why back down now?”

 Oops. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. Better think of something fast, and this time, nothing involving cats. “It’s too hard to be nice to the ol’ Football Head. I can’t take it any longer.” She crossed her arms and put on her signature scowl, signaling that she wanted this conversation to be over.

 Gerald did a small laugh and shook his head in disbelief. Helga hoped that he would, in true Gerald form, not prod Helga further. “If you say so, Helga,” he receded. He reached behind the door and excitedly started to put his jacket on. “Well, since my weekend is now wide open, I’m heading out. I interviewed Harvey the mailman this afternoon. Do you want me to send you the audio, and you can use it for your project?”

 Helga nodded. “Yeah, that’d be cool. Thanks.” She paused, hoping she wouldn’t sound too interested when she asked the next question. “Where… um, are you going?”

 “To Arnold’s,” he said, without skipping a beat. “It’s his birthday weekend, after all. He’s pretty bummed that I couldn’t hang out with him, so I’m going to go surprise him.”

 Helga tried to act casual. “I saw him at Tina Park near the east entrance on the way here.”

 Gerald was too preoccupied to notice her pretense. “Cool, thanks, Pataki.” He shouted to his family that he was going out. He closed the door behind him as he bounced down the steps past her.

 Before heading off, he turned around. “Hey, uh, thanks again… for being nice to Arnold this week. It really made his week.”

 “Yeah, yeah,” Helga said with a wave of her hand. “Don’t say I never did you any favors, Geraldo.”

 Geraldo smiled, turned around, and ran off eagerly down the street.

 Helga watched him go. When she was sure he was out of earshot, she placed her hands on her heart and whispered, “Happy birthday, Arnold.”